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mywritingonlyfans · 3 years

Text

One Shot with Ethan Torchio // It's a bit Fluffly, Smut and Angsty

prompt: in which, ethan always need/visit you when he's not in tour + casual sex(?) with ethan tying you up so you don't touch him i'm telling you this but isn't a hardcore smut

warnings: it's smut. a fluffly kinda sexy(?)maybe it's just sexy bc it's ethan smut ig fem!reader

(he is so hot. i'm crying all my tears, and that's fucking pathetic.)

Your head hurt, you knew your face was probably red due to your desire to go home and cry, but yet, your friends convinced you to go out for a drink. According to them nothing was too bad that a beer couldn’t improve, you doubted it.

Somehow, you found yourself happy to have accepted.

You didn’t know Ethan was back in town, you briefly wondered why you didn’t know, since he always contacted you when he was near (or at least that was what it seemed to be). Still, you were glad to see him. He was always able to make things better, even if only for a short period of time; which in your case was very short one as he wasn’t yours to have.

Ethan complemented your friends, they were all too familiar to him. He hugged you, giving a small kiss to your head while sitting next to you. Suddenly, you felt like a stronger drink would do you good.

It wasn’t hard to tell what was going to happen in the next few hours, after a couple of years going through that, you knew the time you spent together would always be the same. You guessed that you were able to put his head in place, just as he did with yours; and that's why he always came back to you. You'd never be able to tell if it was luck or mischance.

“Was it too hard to find me?” You asked him.

By now, your friends had moved to another corner. “I mean, I’m not complaining, I’m glad you did.” You offered him a weak smile. He did the same.

He looked tired, yet deadly cute.

He shuffled his chair closer to yours, letting his leg touch your bare knee. “Not really, Victoria said she called you in the morning, then told me that you intended to visit here for the night,” he mumbled, signaling to the bartender that he needed a beer, and so did you.

“She’s a gossip,” you wrinkled your nose, causing him to provide offer you a nasal laugh that you had learned to find lovely over the years. “But what has been happenin’ in your life lately? You’re good?” You tried to sound casual, but deep down you knew he wasn’t there entirely for you. Something was bothering him, he was looking for someone to rest on.

“Pretty much the same,” he sighed heavily. He wasn’t tired just physically. “We finished the last album, I feel exhausted.”

He looked at you like a lost puppy, watching your face, analyzing if you were in the mood to listen to him, or even if you were okay with having him around. After all, he came to you out of nowhere.

He’d never make you uncomfortable around him, maybe he hadn't noticed that yet. “C’mon, let it all out. I haven’t seen you for too many months for you to deprive me of the details.”

“If I tell you,” he pondered, “ you’ll tell me why you have a runny nose to match your watery eyes?” He poked your cheek, dragging his fingers so he could put some strands of hair back in place.

His seat was now so close to you that you'd be able to rest your head on his shoulder if you wanted to without creating any bodily discomfort.

“I guess life just hasn’t been all that gentle with me lately.” You giggled at him. “I lost my job last week, the same life shit is goin’ on as usual, and when I finally managed to move to a decent place, I’ll now be actually going back to sharin' apartment with strangers, because, y’know, I can’t afford bein’ in there anymore.”

Ethan was quiet for a while, you needed him more than he needed you. Listening to you made him realize how his worries were nothing at all. He knew that you didn't mind sharing an apartment with someone, but the loss of perspective was always tough.

Without further thinking, he pulled you to himself, fluffing your hair and holding you tight in his grip. You didn’t cry, yet it was possible to read your emotions. It was little, but Ethan knew you.

You took your head off his chest while he still had his arm around your waist. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your laced fingers, feeling it slow down. “I guess it’s all happenin’ at the same time, I’m just not sure how to handle it at the moment,” he held your face in his hand, his mouth close to yours as he ran his fingertips over your chin, until his lips were on you.

He was soft and wet, he had the same taste you still had etched in your mind, at that moment it seemed to be all you needed. He let go slowly, distributing pecks on the corners of your mouth, letting his forehead rest against yours.

You two stayed like that for a few minutes and you could bet that anyone who passed by could see how much of a fool you were for him. You tried not to think about it too much, it was better to have little of him than to have nothing. “Ethan?”

“Huh?” He murmured with his eyes closed, giving your lips a tickling sensation.

“Kiss me more,” and then he did. Ethan was holding you in place while your hands intertwined around his neck. You played with the chain of his necklace, savoring the touch of his tongue on yours, focusing only on him while pulling at his hair to hear his soft moans.

It didn’t take long for the bartender to come get your attention. You laughed nervously against him, you were embarrassed because you didn’t even remember where you were, still Ethan seemed untouchable about it. He wasn’t one to be embarrassed over small things like that, at least not with you. The bartender was quite irritated with the two of you and just now you noticed that your drinks had arrived and hadn’t even been touched; he was rightly pissed.

Ethan stood up, lifting you up with him. You looked in your pockets for your money, but then Ethan said it was okay and that he’d pay. You would argue, yet any money left over would be welcome. You held both beers in hand as he paid, thanking the old lady for the service, still feeling your skin burning with embarrassment, and then headed outside to wait for Ethan.

“Are you drivin’?” He asked, laughing at your state of awkwardness.

You bumped into his shoulder slightly, laughing along with him. “I am not, I’m living nearby,” you whispered as he put his hand inside your skirt pocket, bringing you to his side for a walk. “In the apartment that soon won’t be mine… how ‘bout you?”

“Not drivin’, I thought about staying somewhere to spend the night.”

He was close to home, but not that close, it would take about 3 hours to get to where he lives; it seemed plausible that he wanted to stay. “Are you only here because of me?” You risked asking.

“Yeah,” he took his hand out of your pocket and ran it through his hair. “I didn’t think it‘d be a bad idea.”

There was a silence, but it was far from being uncomfortable. “You know you can stay with me.”

——————-

Considering that you were in the process of moving to another place your house was a bit of a mess. Ethan wouldn’t be bothered by that, somehow your instinct of wanting things always in place - aka Monica from Friends - made you wander around the space in an attempt to make Ethan at home.

“What ‘bout the new album?” You asked, dragging one of the boxes away from him. It wouldn’t even bother anyone, but the thought that it would be in the middle of the room while someone was at your house bothered you.

“I don’t really know, I feel anxious about releasin’ it. It’s not that I don’t want to release it or am afraid of doing so, far from that, it's just, I don’t know… ” His voice fell silent, lost in his thoughts.

You turned to him, wanting to ask him what he had said, after all, that didn’t sound like Ethan, you felt as his hands touched your hips, pulling you on his lap. “Y'know I don’t care about your mess, right? Just, please, stop walkin’ 'round the house dragging boxes.” He said with his face close to your neck, hugging you from behind. His warm breath was in contact with your soft skin, providing heat to your body. Well, there was a minimal percentage chance that you were trying to make the place look good for Ethan, just because he made you a little nervous.

“Okay, fine. I’m fine,” you exhaled, turning to face him. He was smiling with his eyes almost closing; he still looked tired, but at least you were improving his mood. “You know you’re good at what you do, Ethan. You shouldn’t worry 'bout those things.” You held on to his shoulders, breaking something that could turn out to be a pity silence.

He squeezed your thigh at the same time as he laughed humorlessly at your words. “I know that. I guess that this is the short time they gave us to finish the album – it was drivin’ me crazy. The album isn’t bad, not at all, it’s honestly very good. Dami did a incredible job, still if it weren’t for the time it could have been even better. That’s crazy how I’m still letting myself get stressed over this, don’t you think?” He vented, moving his hands up your skirt.

“I know it’ll be good, I can’t think of anything you did that ended up bad!” You ran your fingers over his covered shoulders, down to his chest, going to the first open button of his t-shirt. “But if it’s just stress I can help you.”

He lubed his lips, nodding assiduously, putting you properly on top of him. That way, you were stuck to his body, feeling the rough of his jeans along with the zipper against your underwear. You gulped as he held your face, sealing your lips with his. You were relieved he always guided you through that; the leading up part was way better when it came from him.

You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt in middle of sloppy kisses and grips. Running your hand over his belly, tracing your fingers to the back of his neck while moving your hips lightly. You lugged on his hair, pulling him away to catch your breath. You opened your eyes to find Ethan with a deep pink mouth and brown eyes more intense than normal, at that moment you could have sworn that he was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. You spread his shirt to the sides, sensing your body getting hotter, when Ethan smirked at your rush, managing to hold both of your hands behind you; stopping you in place.

“No need to rush, we have plenty of time,” he clenched you in his hands. You arched your back, breathing heavily at each touch of his fingers on your wrists.

He ran his nose over your neck, placing kisses and bites on the way to your collarbone, leaving wet tracks that would later turn into dark marks.

Your legs ached from that position, the couch wasn’t the best, but feeling Ethan getting hard under you as you writhed yourself against him, made you want to stay there for as long as he wanted you to. It was crazy to think that at the beginning of the day you were sure that the rest of it would be a pure disaster, and now being spoiled by Ethan’s lips your worries seemed to fade away.

Temporary as that would be, you were determined to give him your all, making his and yours next hours one of the best escapes from both of you. Unnecessary to say that you were lost in your own mind by now, craving for having his strands in-between your fingers, wanting him tugged into you furiously, causing you to ache. Your mouth was ajar, your vision was just white dots as he played with your sensitive skin, driving you insane. Ethan paralyzed when his grip became too strong around your fists and you got louder than usual.

“D’you like that?” He did it again, but this time pushing your body backward. He kept his devilish grin on his face, watching you from top to bottom. You bit your lips, containing your noises to yourself. Such an angel in his eyes. “Up, babe. I need to see something.” He didn’t let you answer, not as if he needed to. You stood up in front of him, legs shaking with your head definitely not in the right place. “Undress.” He rested his elbows on his knees.

His face was serious, and you didn’t see any problem in obeying his voice, but perhaps, due to the lack of his body being glued to yours, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it when I tell you what to do,” He caught you by the hem of your underwear, helping to take it off while you got rid of your blouse. “Especially, when I just got you off my lap, almost unconscious 'cause of some kisses to your soft neck, pet.” He added, drawing circles on the inside of your thigh, smoothly going up to your center.

You felt your breath come to a halt. “You’re just too bossy.” You teased, confirming that your breathing was faulty.

He patted his nose over the damp stain of the fabric, placing a kiss there. “And you love it.” He pecked you a few more times, teasing you by running his fingers on the edges as putting the cloth to the side; never touching you where you needed him.

Almost involuntarily you took hold of his hair, bringing him closer to your core. And then, you understood his previous question, it wasn’t just about not being able to touch him, but also about the power he was having over you.

He cut his actions short and got up, hovering over you. “Tonight, you won’t be allowed to touch me, all right?!” He whispered, tossing your hair behind your ear.

That’d be comical in any other situation, yet with his body and eyes fixed on your frame you felt in his domain.

You nodded, diving into the way he pulled at the hair on the nape of your neck firmly so that you were looking at him. “Go on, babe,” He insisted on having the words he wanted.

“Yes, it’s all right, Ethan,” it was far from all right, you couldn’t do that. How could you go without touching, making a mess of his hair or marking your nails on his back?

“That’s my girl,” he praised you in between sighs.

He was excited while your face was overflowing with nervousness; not out of fear, but out of curiosity. He finished removing his shirt and indicated with his fingers for you to lie down on the couch.

You shut your eyes tight, with his voice echoing 'my girl’ in your mind, Ethan was lugging your wrists above your head as you did what he told you to do. He tied them with his shirt. “Is this hurtin’ you? Are you comfortable?” He tightened it in a knot.

Your head and elbows were on the arm of the couch, only your hands were unsupported. Although you weren’t uncomfortable, it was to be expected that pain would appear the next day; it’d be worth it. “No, it’s fine. I’m good.” You assured him as he knelt beside the couch, running his hands down your torso, making you squirm.

He went down to the hem of your underwear, taking it off with the help of your legs kicking the lace away. “Good then,” he warbled, pattering lines on your pubic hair. “Needy and in your proper place.”

“Bastard,” you swore through clenched teeth.

He grinned, admiring how your breast rose and fell in a quick but punctual rhythm while your hips fidgeted at his touch. You looked like a piece of art he had just created, swollen lips, filled in lovely marks on the collarbone. He found himself in need to concentrate on his breathing while watching you, to control his pulse as he reached his fingertips to your pussy.

“Ethan” you breathed out, forcing your fists. “Go on, please,”

With that, he held your hands, forcing them down and slid a finger inside you. Your lips opened in a sigh and he took the opportunity to kiss you, running his tongue over your bottom lip and nipping it to his mouth, keeping things on a slow pace.

You wanted to hold his hand, make him go faster or be able to pull the locks of his hair until he understood how much you wanted him, but you had no way of doing that, and you knew he was just doing that to provoke you.

His lips traveled over your neck again, this time giving light kisses, blowing air on the soft fresh he had left in there.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he said without even opening his eyes, delighting in your skin as he sped up, now rubbing his thumb gently over your bud.

You whispered something almost inaudible that Ethan recognized as his name. He raised his head, coming face a face to you. “Right there, huh?” He asked, focusing on the spot that was blurring your vision.

You groaned. The satisfying delight running through your veins. You closed your legs, wishing you could hold on to his body, but all he did was laugh, shoving his fingers leisurely into you.

“No, no Ethan,” you looked at him properly, thinking that if you hadn’t been with your wrists tied you’d have slapped his chest.

He wiped his hand on your thigh, and stood up slipping his jeans down his legs along with his underwear. You sighed at him, stretching your arms, staring at the ceiling to disguise yourself. Not that it was necessary, Ethan was already too much of a show-off when it came to you for your liking.

“You good? How’s your arms?” He doubted, getting on top of you.

He had his hair damp, falling over the spots on his forehead. Some of his locks was glued to his chest and his golden pendant dangled in front of your eyes. For a split second, you though about saying that you missed him, but you were wise enough to know better than doing such a thing.

“If I say that I’m not good. Are you goin’ to untie me?”

He pressed his chest to yours, your body sticking to his since you were both sweaty.

“Not even a chance,” He stroked your neck with his thumb, up and down, with a silly look on his face.

You grunted as soon as you felt how solid hard he was against your thigh, he aligned himself in-between your knees, holding on to your shoulders, and without hesitation he filled you up. Your body tingled and your voice failed, causing a silent moan to slip from your lips. His head fell over the crook of your neck and you could feel how dysrhythmic his breathing was. His warm body along with his breath hitting on your neck added a pleasant feeling in your stomach, leaving you dizzy under him.

“Move Ethan,” you tried to sound understandable, embracing his waist with your legs.

He thrusted deeply in you, leaving a breathed sigh of relief in your ears. You stretched out your arms, tightening your thighs around him. He held the shirt in your hands, preventing it from coming loose.

“No, I wanna touch you,” you whined.

“You will, just be patient, babe,” he squeezed your wrists in his hand.

Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the way his body was over yours, every movement and every delicate touch.

He went slowly at first, making sure you were taking all of him before going faster. Once he felt your walls clenching around him, he murmured a breathless 'fuck’, letting go of your hands so that you could finally feel him. You dug your nails into his back, kneading your body against his at the same time as he hugged you.

As you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you, with an intense gaze, building you up to feel sexy and wanted.

Both of you were a mess; sweaty and sticky. You felt a tingling ecstasy take all over your body, your toes twitching as you emptied yourself into him. He kept working on you until his body collapsed into yours, filling you up to perfection.

The last thing you remembered was having your fingers entwined in his hair, patting at it slightly as he whispered sweet nothing against your skin; just like a lullaby.

———–-------

You woke up to the noise of the television, trying to adjust your vision to the brightness of the daylight. Failing to stretch, you felt how sore your body was.

Your eyes searched for Ethan, finding him sitting opposite to you with a lazy smile and a cup of tea in hands, his attention was all on you. Friends was playing on the television, but you doubted he was really watching it.

“Good mornin’ babe,” his husky voice echoed through the room. It was the best thing to hear in the morning. “How’s it? Hurtin’?” He asked when you started examining your marked wrists.

He was fully dressed and although you weren’t, he had managed to get a sheet to cover you.

“Good mornin’. It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” you mumbled, scratching your eyes, curling up on the sheet. “How long will you be stayin’ in town?”

“Not long,” he paused thoughtfully. You already expected that he wouldn’t be with you for long, still sometimes you liked to think that it’d last longer than just a few days before he disappeared to another continent. “I need to go home in a few minutes, I’m going to take a flight at night to adjust the final details of the album.”

“Sounds nice,” you wanted to have the courage to tell him how he made things in your life look just right, as if he were some kind of piece missing from your puzzle. “I can’t wait to hear it, hear what your great fingers are capable of.” You ignored your thoughts. He laughed.

However, you truly believed that not saying anything was a wise move.

He lifted a cup from one of the boxes next to him, holding it out to you. “I made one for you too, I hope you don’t mind.”

You didn’t mind it, in fact, you loved the way he made himself at home so quickly. The home that soon wouldn’t be yours anymore. You wished Ethan could remedy your worries for more than just one night.

“Thank you,” you took the still warm drink in your hands, looking at him as if he were part of your decor. “You can smoke in here, I don’t mind that either,” you spoke up. You couldn’t even imagine that he’d have gone without lighting a cigarette all morning.

“The place is all clean, and smells nice. I bet you never lit one yourself, I wouldn’t do that.” He was right.

“Well, y'know that I don’t care about the smell, I just don’t see the need to leave the house impregnated with it.” You explained, remembering that Ethan’s house was a perfect description of that smell, yet you loved his place.

“I know this is going to sound strange,” he started. “But if you can’t find a place in time to live in… you can stay at mine, I mean, you know I am never home and as I’ll be travelin’ you could make yourself at home.”

He said it casually, and you knew he wasn’t lying, if you wanted to he wouldn't even think twice about letting you stay at his.

“No need, I’ll be fine. I do appreciate it though.” you took a sip of your now cold drink.

He bobbed, checking what you thought could be the time on his phone.

“You have to go, I guess?” You asked, your soft voice revealing you didn’t want that.

“I need to,” he gave you a small smile, getting up. “It’s gettin’ a bit late for me.”

“I see,” you went to him, adjusting the sheet on your body, feeling ridiculous for still being undressed. “I guess I’ll see you, right?” You added it while he picked up your stuff on the couch; keys, wallet and the pack of cigarettes. There was no answer for your question.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, heading to the door. “You could come and visit, spend a few days with us. It’d be nice.”

“On tour? Like a groupie?” You wrinkled your nose. His arms wrapping around you. You’d miss it.

He squeezed you into his chest, his tiny beard tickling your cheek. “You know you are much more than just a groupie for me, Y/N.”

You didn’t answer that. He pulled away and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t.

“See ya Y/N,” instead, he kissed the top of your head. “Think about it, both about comin’ to visit and also about needing a place to stay for a while.”

“I’m sure I will, thank you Ethan,” you watched him, from his rumpled shirt to dark circles under his eyes. He’d always have a special space in your heart. “I guess I’ll see ya then.”

>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<

taglist ( 'cause someone actually wanted to be tagged, i didn't even force anyone😁): @maybanksslut , @oro-e-diamanti

#maneskin #ethan torchio #ethan torchio smut #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio imagines #ethan torchio fanfic #ethan torchio fluffly #writing #maneskin x reader #imagines #fiction #fanfic #damiano david #måneskin

613 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

Fuck the context and the way you portrayed shinso in your brother fic of him was so hot. Can’t wait for him to become unhinged and not even care what his parents would think/if they’re home and just defile you whenever he wants bc he’s just that desperate

Prelude - gonna call this mess “FaMiLy BoNdInG” and bruh trust me it’s a mess but I tried so enjoy k gbye

Pairing - Aizawa X Reader X Shinsou

Prompt - at the top and combined with these two!

Warnings - psuedo-incest, NSFW, non con, dubcon, all the cons. Step dad Aizawa and step bro Shinsou are a force to be reckoned with. Mentions of DP at the end.

Music - I listened to https://open.spotify.com/track/1xFfbxmfenEpn4WawGWXiA?si=OUFp4ANsSR-6V_H187Eblw while writing even though it has NO relation to the fic spsosfnjsdhgsslfdn dead

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You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking soda and scrolling mindlessly on your phone when your stepbrother had come up behind you, looping his arms over your shoulders as he leaned down.

“Hey girlie, what’re you doing?”

“Nothin’.” You shifted, moving so his mouth was away from your ear, squirming uncomfortably.

There was a beat of silence, before Shinsou stood, his presence looming behind you like a harbinger of evil. “Come up to my room? I’m tired, wanna hold you.” You sighed, hunching your shoulders and curling in upon yourself. You knew it wasn’t a question, wasn’t a request that you could ignore or refuse. He was just giving you the illusion of having a choice. Well, you did have a choice; go with your brother willingly, or get dragged, risk him getting angry if you said you were feeling sick, get into a fight with the man that could pin you to the ground without breaking a sweat.

“Shinsou…. “

“C’mon.” He didn’t wait for you to figure out how to beg for him to leave you be, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet with ease. You went limp, what else could you do?

The purple-haired man reached under your skirt, a modest, knee-length thing, wrenching your panties down with one hand. You squeezed your eyes shut when his hand brushed against your hip, when he eyed the panties clutched in his fist.

“Cute.”

Gross.

Then he was tugging you along, headed towards his room.

You were so tired.

Mind almost shutting down, you stumbled when the audible clanking of the garage door beginning to open could be heard.

Dad was home.

Wide eyed, you caught Shinsou’s equally-surprised gaze, the man in front of you tightening his grip on your arm. Without another word, his pace was quickened. Aizawa wasn’t supposed to get home until midnight, was supposed to be working late at the office.

Shinsou tugged you into his room, slammed the door shut, pushed you onto the bed. He had a sense of urgency; he was stressed, thrown off by the sudden and unexpected arrival of your father. “Gotta be quiet now, don’t want dad to hear us, right?”

You nodded, dazed, exhausted. Nothing had happened yet and you were already retreating inside your mind, resigning yourself to whatever your older brother was going to do today. He had said he wanted to cuddle, but that usually meant lazy sex while he hugged you, kissing your neck and falling asleep after making the both of you cum.

Without any preamble, the man climbed onto the bed, putting a hand on your shoulder to gently guide you to lay back. Then he was scrabbling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bralette and skirt. He kneeled between your legs, pulling your skirt up to mid thigh to give him more room to maneuver.

“Shinsou please don’t, dad’s-“

“Shhhh, just do what I say and you’ll be fine.”

Shinsou spat into his palm, the sound making you cringe as you thumbed at the soft blankets underneath you. He was unbuttoning his pants, shoving at his underwear until he could get his cock free. The man went quicker than usual as he slicked up his length with his spit, very much aware of the presence of someone else in the house.

At this point, Shinsou really didn’t care.

He had been fucking you for so long, pulling you aside for a quickie when your parents ran to the store, taking his time when they went away for a weekend, fucked you on the couch when they went out for date-night. Feeling particularly bold today, he barely thought to pause when your father had gotten home. Right now, he wanted to lay down with his little sister, fuck you until you fell asleep, and then cuddle with your pliant body. Dad home or not, he was determined.

Your skirt was pushed even further up your body, the material bunching at your waist so your stepbrother had unfettered access to your bare pussy. Clenching your eyes shut, you turned your head away as you felt Shinsou pull your hips into his lap so he could rub his cock against your folds. He hissed at the sensation, spitting into his hand again before reaching around his cock to smear his saliva onto your puffy slit, too impatient and hurried to properly prep you.

It was odd to see the purple haired man like this; usually he was very laid-back, slow and gathered in his movements. Right now he was rushing, pushing the tip of his cock slowly into your entrance when usually he would still be making you cry on his fingers. The stretch was immediate, almost burning, and your lungs tightened.

A hand reached up to cover your mouth, Shinsou’s thumb massaging your cheek as he hushed you. You grabbed onto his arm, not to pull him away (it would be useless, he was so much stronger than you), but to ground yourself, able to do nothing but hold onto the man causing you pain.

The sound of dishes clattering down in the kitchen had Shinsou’s hips bucking forward suddenly, filling you up, pressing too far, too soon. He swore lowly, hand tightening around your mouth as you let out a pained noise.

His hips stilled, the hand not at your mouth petting soothingly at your hip in an imitation of comfort. Funny, you thought - you wouldn’t need comfort if your stupid step brother could manage to keep his dick in his pants.

As the seconds passed, both of you aware of Aizawa down in the kitchen, your muscles slowly relaxed. The stretch burned less, felt more manageable. Still, you were entirely unprepared when Shinsou drew his hips back before rutting into you.

You screeched, the sound muffled by his hand but undeniably loud. Shinsou leaned over you, unwittingly pushing himself deeper as he tried to soothe you with his quiet “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

If you were able, you would scream that you weren’t. You weren’t okay, nothing was okay. Everything about this was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. The way his hips were twitching into you, the way he kissed your cheeks and thumbed away your tears. The pleasure that was sparking in your core, the fact that it was your stepbrother getting ready to pound you into the mattress.

He was thrusting smoothly now, cock drilling into you a a steady pace. You were getting wet, the slide easier and less painful, pleasure slowly filtering in. When Shinsou plucked at your clit, you squirmed, hips shamefully moving to meet his own. He started increasing the pace, breathing heavily as the two of you rocked together on the bed. Occasionally his bed creaked, the wood rubbing at the joints and squeaking.

On one hand, you hoped dad didn’t hear. On the other, you wished he would - that he’d come save you from his son.

You got a mockery of your wish.

“Kids?” Aizawa was walking up the stairs, the third step that always creaked whenever someone tread on it announcing his ascent.

“Shit.” Shinsou breathed, pulling out of you, manhandling you quickly. He threw back the covers of his bed, shoved you down, settled behind you. He didn’t have to tell you to be good - the taboo, disgustingly wrong nature of what he had been doing was too embarrassing for you to reveal to your stepfather. Accusing his biological son of assaulting you? Raping you? Would dad even believe you? You didn’t want him to see you like this, you couldn’t.

Dad knocked as Shinsou pulled the covers up, covering your state of undress. You knew your bralette straps were still visible, and Shinsou still had his shirt on. It would probably just look like the two of you had been napping, but then again, it would still seem odd. Whenever your parents were home you stayed as far away from your brother as possible - you weren’t one to just go cuddle with him.

The door creaked open, and your dad peered in. You were so embarrassed, half-naked and utterly humiliated underneath the covers. You didn’t know what to feel or what to do, frozen in fear and indecision.

“Hey dad, need something?” Shinsou rumbled from behind you, voice steady and monotoned.

Light eyes scanned the room, before settling on you and your brother. Aizawa gave you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be in here, before his eyes shifted to the man behind you. “Wanted to let you know I’m home. Mom won’t be back until late, do you two have any specific requests for dinner?”

Shinsou shifted closer to you, so close that you could feel his rapidly beating heart through the warm flesh of his chest.

“Nah, we’re fine with whatever.”

Aizawa nodded, giving you one more confused glance. Maybe he could tell something was up? You felt like you couldn’t breathe. As the dark-haired man turned, obviously moving to shut the door and head back down to the kitchen, Shinsou was pushing his cock into you, his heart trying to beat out of his chest against your back.

Before you could stop yourself, you were whimpering.

“Dad….”

Shinsou froze as Aizawa turned back, stepping further into the room. You were quiet, tears budding at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t make yourself utter another word, completely unsettled at the situation. What were you supposed to do? You wanted him to save you, but you didn’t know how to ask. Your stepfather was studying you, was waiting for you to say something more. His gaze was flickering between you tearful eyes, your bralette straps visible above the blanket, the position you and Shinsou were in. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

All three of you were silent, the moment seeming to stretch on forever.

You were so tired.

Breaking the stillness, Aizawa took another step into the room, brows slowly drawing down as the realization dawned upon him.

“Shinsou.” HIs voice was low, he rolled his son’s name in his mouth quietly, almost hesitantly. “What the fuck is going on.”

Your brother’s cock was still inside you.

“I was tired. (Y/N)’s cuddling with me, she was telling me about a dog she saw-“ Aizawa snorted, arms crossing as he took another step towards the bed. “Nice try. Don’t lie to me. Tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

Shinsou was silent behind you, his heart beating loud and fast against your back.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” His voice was softer as he asked you, throaty still - but softer. The tears clouding your vision finally flooded, streaming down your cheeks as you looked up at him.

“Please… I....” You couldn’t formulate the words, mortification surrounding your body, Shinsou’s hand squeezing bruises into your hip. It was too much. You wished you had never existed, that none of this had happened.

Unable to get an answer out of either of you, Aizawa strode forward, grabbed the covers, ripped them off the bed and dumped them in a heap.

You sobbed.

Both men were silent as you cried fat tears, embarrassed at being revealed, gratification at dad finally discovering the awfulness you had been subjected to these past few months.

Shinsou thrust his hips further into your warmth.

You choked, eyes snapping up to Aizawa. Shinsou was supposed to stop the second the two of were caught. He wasn’t supposed to keep going. Why wasn’t dad saying anything? Telling Shinsou to get off of you, get out of the house? Why wasn’t he calling the police? Why wasn’t he pulling your skirt down, trying to preserve your modesty?

The man was staring at the mess between your legs, Shinsou’s cock sliding in and out of you as you sobbed. Aizawa was breathing a bit heavier, his face, stance, demeanor no longer angry.

Dread filled your bones, settled like hot glue.

“Can you see how wet she is? She’s dripping.” Shinsou prodded, Aizawa frozen in place, mouth dry as he watched. “She’s always so warm inside, feels so nice.“

He was egging Aizawa on, seizing the moment and capturing his dad’s hesitance, manipulating it. You let out a whine as Shinsou’s pace picked up, cock beginning to hammer into your pussy. The purple haired man looped an arm underneath your thigh, hefting it into the air to allow Aizawa a better view.

“Doesn’t she sound so sweet? She tastes just as good, feels even better.” He was breathing heavily now, as he rutted into your warmth. Dropping your thigh, Shinsou reached for your clit, trapping the nub between his fingers and flicking at it. You cried out, your own hips squirming in indecisiveness , unable to choose between puling away or pushing back into the delicious sensation. It didn’t take much more to have you cumming.

Shinsou grunted as your walls squeezed around his cock, giving a few more frantic thrusts before he shot his load deep within your cunt, hips twitching as he worked through his own orgasm

You watched Aizawa sit down on the bed, close to your knees.

“How long?” He sounded strained. Shinsou shrugged, still panting.

Aizawa’s rough hand rested on your knee, his flat eyes closing as he paused. “Get up.”

The command wasn’t directed at you, but at your brother. Somehow, you didn’t think it would end up with your stepdad kicking his son out of the house.

Shinsou seemed to think the same as he pulled out, uncaring to the way you flinched as his cock dragged against your sensitive walls. He was silent as he shuffled to the end of the bed, tucking his dick back into his pants.

Aizawa grabbed your ankle and in one smooth move, dragged you to him. You squeaked at the sudden movement, eyes wide as you watched Aizawa look you up and down. The front of his slacks were tented.

He pulled you into his lap, your back to his chest, turning so the both of you faced Shinsou who still stood at the foot of the bed.

“Does he make you feel good?” The older man’s stubble was scratchy against your cheek. You didn’t know where this was going, felt so lost and bad and sick.

“Sometimes…”

It was impossible to lie. You knew if you did, Shinsou would cut in, tell his father how he made you cum everytime. How most of the time, you were screaming in pleasure before he would even take his pants off.

Looking at the floor, you missed the look between father and son.

“He touch you here?” You gasped as a large hand grasped at your chest through your bralette. Aizawa’s hands were bigger than his son’s, rougher and more confident in their touch.

“Yes.”

“What about-“ tears streamed down your face as the hand slid further, over your tummy, over the fabric of your skit, down to your abused, sensitive cunt. “-Here?”

“Please stop, please.”

Aizawa didn’t answer, let his hand rest over the top of your pussy, feel his son’s cum slowly leaking out. “Shinsou, come here.”

The purple-haired man obeyed, stepping closer, falling to his knees at the edge of the bed when Aizawa motioned for him to do so.

“Clean up your sister.”

You weren’t too surprised. It shouldn’t have been hard to see where Shinsou had learned his nasty little tricks from. Still, it hurt your heart, struggling in your step-dad’s lap as he held you in place.

Shinsou was smiling, leaning forward to shove his face in-between your thighs, chuckling when you yelped as he tongued over your hole. You used your hands to shove at his head, pull at his hair, but he caught them in his grip. They were pulled down by your sides, where Shinsou held them still.

“No, no! Stop! You can’t, no—dad!!” You were sobbing, pleading as Shinsou continued his assault on your cunt, licking out his own cum from your insides. Aizawa was holding your legs, keeping you spread-eagled and open.

“I’m not a good guy (Y/N), neither of us are.” His hardness was rubbing up against your back as you squirmed. “And from now on, you call me daddy.” “No! I won’t, let me go!” You thrashed, putting all your energy into loosing the iron grip holding your legs. Shinsou pulled back, licking his lips as he glanced up at his father.

“She was like this when I first had her. Mouthy little thing, still hasn’t learned proper manners.” He didn’t wait for Aizawa to respond, leaning back forward to continue slurping at your swollen lips.

“That’s alright, she’ll learn… I am a teacher after all.”

You wanted to vomit. You went limp, sobbing raggedly in Aizawa’s arms - completely demoralized and humiliated. There was no use fighting when Shinsou had been hurting you. Now with two fully grown men focused on you? Forget about it.

Aizawa was quiet as Shinsou worked you up to an orgasm, the only sound besides your crying the wet, squishy lapping of Shinsou’s tongue suckling at your pussy. When he switched his focus to your clit, you wheezed, jolting in place as his tongue started laving over the little bud rapidly, quickly throwing you higher and higher and-

You wailed through your second orgasm, almost unable to breathe.

Moments passed before you were able to calm yourself, ugly-crying and begging the two men to please, please leave you alone. Please leave, don’t touch you.

If you weren’t numb from your orgasm, you would feel sick.

“Shinsou, where’s your lube?”

Purple hair bounced as your brother cocked his head, still kneeling between your legs. “She doesn’t need lube, she’s soaking wet.”

“She’s gonna need it if we’re both going to fit.”

Neither man seemed to be able to hear your panicked pleas, too excited about prepping you to take both of them together.

What an awful attempt at family bonding.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere aizawa shouta #creepy aizawa #stepbro #stepbrother #stepfather #step dad #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #noncon tw #yandere shinso x reader #yandere aizawa

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yourmcu · 4 years

Text

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory, “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

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sicjimin · 3 years

Text

A.N ; Seokjin baby im sorry i torture you here TT and sorry if this was too long ......... and making nonsense . I hope you like a little bit. fluff. in the end :] ( yes this is the 16k that i post yesterday. didnt mean to post it bc idont think this is good enough but .. well. here it go ~ )

TW : emeto , mpreg

Seokjin frowns when he feels his stomach churn at the smell of jjigae he currently made. His hands feel clammy and sweaty and he wants to throw up so badly. He’s not even sure why, but it makes him feel sick. He takes a deep breath, grazing his hand over his stomach as the other hand keeps stirring the food.

"Hyung, what are you making?", Yoongi stifles a yawn as he shuffles to the kitchen, opening the fridge and snatched one of cold water there. Sighing in content when the cold water sliding on his throat.

" Jjigae", Seokjin mumbles quietly with a pout, continuing to stir the soup inside the pot.

"Oohh that nice ..", Yoongi peeked up, " Do you need help?"

"I think I can handle it", Seokjin mutters, taking in another deep breath as the smell intensifies. It smells delicious. But for some reason it feels like his stomach protest again him. His nausea intensifies. And the heat from the stove makes him feels hot all over.

He parted his lips slightly, trying to ease his nausea by breathing through it. His grip on the spoon tightens. Taking slow inhales while the other hand holds onto the counter. Taking deep breaths, he tries to calm down. And then another wave of nausea suddenly hit him. This time harsh, like someone flipping his stomach

A gag escapes from his mouth. He gasps quietly as he quick to clamped his mouth. Trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He swallows and exhales harshly before taking another deep breath.

" Hyung? Are you okay?", Yoongi furrows his brows together worriedly, stepping into Seokjin's line of sight.

“I’m fine Yoongichi... Just suddenly feeling nauseous..” Seokjin says softly, still trying hard not to cough as he continues to stir the jjigae. Nausea hasn't subsided yet but at least it doesn't make him want to hurl that instant.

Yoongi stares at him for a few seconds. As if he doesn't believe a word that Seokjin has said because he knows how easily Seokjin could just lie about something like this. So Yoongi decides to give him a break today.

“Okay hyungie. If you say so”, he replies as he turns his gaze back to the phone.

"Good morning hyung!!", Jimin chimed in from the stairs. It didn't surprise the older, only make them wonder a bit at how someone could be so bright at 7 AM?

Yoongi rumbles a reply, and so is Seokjin, when Jimin placed himself on the stool next to Yoongi.

" Is it jjigae hyung?", he asks curiously, eyes squinted as he looked at the dish Seokjin was cooking.

Seokjin hums, not trusting himself to open his mouth. He can already feel the bile rising up again.

Jimin giggles lightly. “It smells delicious hyung!!"

Smells.

Seokjin's stomach revolts. Again. He gulps, trying to keep his stomach contents. But its hard.

He scrunches his face. His lips quiver as he throws the spoon away and turning himself to the sink. Gagging harshly there, that not long after morph into a full heave, vomit splatters loudly covered the stainless steel.

"Uuurrkk-", he retches again, floodgates of dinner rushing from his mouth. The sound of liquid hitting the sink echoed throughout the kitchen.

"Nnngh"

"Shit.. hyung!", Yoongi hurried to his side, putting his hand on the elder's shoulder. Jimin rushes over too, turning off the stove to save the dish.

Seokjin moans in pain, sucked a deep breath before vomiting once more in the sink. His stomach rolls uncomfortably. His back arched forward, throwing more chunks of vomit.

After several minutes, Seokjin's nausea finally subsides enough to stop gagging and spewing his stomach content. He could see that he lost all of his dinners.

He took another deep breath. A shaky hand wiped at his sweaty forehead. He tried to get his heart to calm down so it would go back to normal as he turns the faucet on, letting it drain what it was his dinner, and rinse some of it around his tongue to get rid of the aftertaste.

"You okay hyung?", Yoongi asked in concern.

Seokjin nodded weakly, leaning against the counter and sighing heavily. " 'm sorry .." , he mumbles. "I think i need to lay down. I feel faint"

Yoongi nodded, grabbing Seokjin's wrist and helping the elder out of the kitchen, walking towards the couch in their living room, dropping himself heavily onto it. Jimin scurrying beside him, hands him water that he gladly accepts and downed it.

"I will continue the food before the rest get up", Yoongi squeezed his shoulder before he stands up. Seokjin mumbles a small thank you.

" What are you feeling hyung? Why do you suddenly get sick?", Jimin asks.

"Just feeling a little queasy.", Seokjin murmurs tiredly as he slowly lays down on the sofa. "I don't know .. it was the smells making my stomach churn"

Jimin nods, rubbing soothing circles on his back as Seokjin leans his head back onto the softness.

The two sat for a while before the others woke up and Yoongi helped set the table and cook breakfast. Seokjin decided to stay behind, not trusting his stomach to accept any food now.

The rest of the day was going well, he stayed at the dorm after some ultimatum from Namjoon and Yoongi, but strangely, he did not get the urge to vomit the whole day. Managed to get down soup and some crackers.

Even though he felt sick the entire time. Though he didn't feel bad at all during most of his days, just feeling slightly uncomfortable and queasy.

That night when they had gone home, Seokjin back to square one. They had set this appointment to had dinner in this restaurant they always wanted to try, before the whole breakfast fiasco happened.

"Come on guys, let's just go. I'm fine! I did not vomit again the whole day. I feel better!", Seokjin tried to convince them as they lounging on the couch, hesitant to go. Namjoon and Yoongi shared a look before sighing.

"Okay, if you say so.", Namjoon says as they both stand up, heading to the door where they both grabbed the keys, wallet and coat. They walked out and headed to the restaurant.

Maybe Seokjin did underestimate himself, because as soon as Yoongi clicked on the stove and grilling the meat, and Namjoon cut the vegetables, Seokjin felt sick again. Like earlier that day. Only worse, much worse. He bites his inner cheeks.

No, he can't throw up now.

Not when the others were excited to eat.

He sucked a deep breath, as his hand quietly slides under his shirt and settled there, hoping that he could hold back everything, at least until he was back at the comfort of his room.

" Hyung, you sure you're okay? You look pale again", Jimin says worriedly, placing meat at the older bowl.

"Yup", Seokjin replies with a strained smile as mutters a small thank you. He forces a chuckle, giving a reassuring pat on Jimin's arms. "I'm fine .. now eat", he says, taking his own chopsticks, even though his mouth-watering rapidly.

Trying to ignore the churning in his gut.

Trying hard to keep the queasiness inside of him.

He ate the first bite, and then quickly eats the second and third. And when the fourth bite had been eaten, the sickness in his stomach breaks.

He quickly clamped his mouth as his body clenched with nausea.

He's gonna vomit now he's gonna vomit now he's gonna vomit now he's—

" Hyung?", he heard Jimin 's concerned voice, and he can see Yoongi and Namjoon staring worriedly at him.

"Are you gonna be sick?"

Seokjin didn't want to nods, afraid that the slightest movement might make his stomach lost its defense. Yet he can't open his mouth, he's afraid that might not be words that gonna come out.

He feels his chest tighten as another round of queasiness hits him full force. His hands grip tight onto the fabric covering the front of his abdomen. Sweat started forming on his temple, the heat from the pan heating his skin. He swallows thickly, eyes wide.

"Yes ..", he breathes out. Not even sure if Jimin or anyone hear it. But apparently, he did, as Jimin tell Hoseok to grab the trashcan beside him, and quickly placed it near Seokjin's side.

Seokjin quickly hunched over it, squeezing his eyes shut as another round of pain strikes him, the wave of nausea overwhelming him. His hand gripping tightly to the wooden table.

" 'm sorry", he croaked out before he gurgles up what he just ate. Rice and half disgested meat plopping loudly to the plastic. "Uurrkkk-", his body convulses once more, emptying his stomach and throw up everything he managed to eat today. He could feel tears springing from his eyes and rolling down his flushed cheeks.

"It's okay hyung, let it out", he hears someone murmurs softly as he pukes more. And again. And again. Until he was almost empty. Then suddenly stopped. Feeling dizzy and weak as his eyes flutter closed.

"Hyung .. here, drink"

He could barely hear Jimin's soft offers, barely even registers that he is still sitting there slumped forward. Eyes closed, panting as nausea still lingering in his gut. He opened his eyes slowly and shakily accept the glass. The cold water pouring against his burning throat. It feels nice.

"Do you want to go home hyung?", Namjoon asks, gently.

Seokjin nodded silently. "Yeah... but finish your food first, 'm sorry", he rasped out.

The two younger nod, grabbing their chopsticks to clean up.

The car ride home was silent, with only the low hum of the engine as their vehicle sped past by traffic lights.

" Do you feel like you might throw up again? Want me to placed a bucket next to your bed?", Yoongi asks after he got out of the bathroom, looking at his roommate that curled on his bed. He looks exhausted.

Seokjin shakes his head, "No, thank you. I feel better already"

Yoongi pursed his lips, and turned off the lights. He crawled into bed and cuddled up, "Wake me up if you need something, okay?"

And after low hums from the older, they went to sleep.

- - -

True to his words, Seokjin really did not throwing up the whole night. But the older repeating his cycles yesterday as Yoongi once again, finding him hunched over the toilet in an attempt to make breakfast.

"Uuurrkk-", Seokjin retches, his head ducked deep into the toilet bowl, stomach clenching painfully as he continued gagging.

His breathing was heavy as he gripped at the rim of the seat.

" Hyung ...", Yoongi mumbles beside him, his hand rubbing comforting circles over his back as Seokjin groans in pain and exhaustion with every jolts of his stomach.

Finally, it ended, Seokjin falling backward, head slumped on the toilet seat, his chest heaved from the dry heaves he had forced himself to.

"Hyung...", Yoongi mumbles again, " Do you have any vendetta against breakfast? or food?", he teases lightly.

Seokjin gave a small laugh.

He turns around and stares at Yoongi with tired eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "I think so, i don't know what's wrong with me. The smell of food always turns me off", he grunts as he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand.

Yoongi smiled slightly, "Do you want to go to the doctor hyung?"

Seokjin shook his head, "No, maybe i just ate something bad or catch some bug. I will be fine"

Yoongi cocked his eyebrow, "But you dont have fever if you catch a bug ..."

"I don't know .. maybe i built differently?", Seokjin shrugs as he rinses his mouth, " Can you continue the food, Yoongi-ah? i'm sorry but i think i will throw up again if i try to cook"

Yoongi nods, giving Seokjin a gentle squeeze on his arms before retreating to the kitchen.

- - -

Seokjin trying to brush it off, the queasiness that comes on and off at him for almost a week now. He doesn't want to worry anyone about it, even though Yoongi now taking his roll to cook breakfast.

Until on the 8th day he got latched by this mysterious bug, it got worse.

As always, it was in the morning, Seokjin hunched over the toilet, this time he managed to eat 3 bites of his breakfast, before a gag making everyone in the room turning his head to him as he run off to the bathroom.

Yoongi really couldn't brush the worry in his mind looking at how the older body was shaking as it held him as he pukes. Seokjin looks so weak, like it takes all force from his body to empty his stomach right now.

"Yoongi-ah..", Seokjin croaked out in between heaves, "I can't... I'm going to throw up again".

Seokjin was sweating a lot, and he was panting heavily. The stench and taste of vomit mixing with the smell of food that wafted around in the room.

" Let it out hyung .. after that let's go to the doctor?", Yoongi asked, carefully watching Seokjin, who just nodded faintly before burp out another watery vomit.

"I think I'm done", Seokjin wheezes out after emptying the rest of his stomach, leaning down on the toilet, and breathing harshly. His cheeks flushed, contrasting with how pale his lips are. "Yoongichi, he swallows thickly, 'm dizzy ..", he admits quietly, feeling himself begin to slip away, as the lightheadedness was creeping up his brain.

"Shit", Yoongi curses was the last thing he heard before he let Yoongi catches his limp body.

+++

The smell of disinfectant was the first thing that waking his senses. Seokjin hates how his body now seems like become more sensitive to everything as his stomach immediately churns at the mere thought of the odor. He tried to swallow, to try and relieve some pain in his throat. But all he could do was cough. And then another wave of sickness rolled through his body.

He whimpered as his hands grasped tightly at the sheets that covered him. He gives up, as he rolled his body to the side, and lets whatever his stomach had in him come spilling from his lips.

He was grateful when he heard his vomit hitting something solid, at least, he didn't make a mess on the floor.

He felt a pair of hands gently rub his back, rubbing calming patterns.

It took a while for Seokjin to regain consciousness. Everything was blurry as he blinked open his eyes. He looked up to see Yoongi holding the bucket he just vomited.

" Yoongichi?", he says as he let himself relax to the bed. A different bed.

"Where am i?", he croaks as Yoongi leans down, wiping his chin with a wet cloth.

" Your hospital room", he responds simply.

Seokjin frowns, confused. Why does he have the hospital? Is he sick?

"You were vomiting a lot this morning until you suddenly fainted on me. Fuck, i was so scared hyung", Yoongi's voice shook slightly as he sit on the edge of Seokjin's bed.

Ah ... he remembers.

" Don't do that on me again", Yoong pouts. Seokjin eyes widen as he heard the younger suddenly sniffle. Yoongi never cried.

"Hey", Seokjin called softly, reaching out to grab Yoongi's arm, gently tugging until he sat on the bed, facing him. "Hey, no crying", he muttered.

"Why are you so stupid?", Yoongi sighed softly, wiping his eyes angrily. Seokjin coos at the sight while he chuckles, " You were worried but insulting me at the same breath", he points out, smiling slightly.

Yoongi huffs.

"What did the doctor say then? Am i sick? Something that life-threatening? Do i had to get surgery?", Seokjin questions.

Yoongi rolls his eyes as he shakes his head, " Stop being dramatic", he mumbles. Yoongi scoots closer, before grinning and steal a kiss from the older, making Seokjin gasp and blush creeping until his ears.

"You're pregnant", Yoongi mumbled against the older's lips, smirking playfully.

Seokjin freezes and stared dumbfoundedly at the younger. He was still recovering from all the sudden shock, and he didn't know what to think.

A child. A baby.... his.

"I .. what?", Seokjin finally manages to utter. It was quiet as both men listened to each other's heartbeats.

"We have a baby", Yoongi mumbles, his eyes glistening under the dimmed hospital lights.

He was silent, just staring at the younger, his thoughts running wild inside his head.

"Hyung?".

" I love you", Seokjin suddenly blurts out.

Yoongi laughs, "I love you too", he says softly and placing his palms on Seokjin's stomach, " and thank you", he adds.

Seokjin smiles warmly and kisses Yoongi chastely on the lips, his fingers carding through the younger hairs.

"Now, we have one homework", Yoongi murmurs as he pulls away.

Seokjin cocked his eyebrow.

" You had to tell the others", Yoongi says, " We can't just keep it a secret from everyone"

Seokjin snorts softly, "Yeah well. Let's just call them here?"

"Hyung .. they dont even know we're dating for months"

"Oh"

"Yeah, oh"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!seokjin #caretaker!yoongi #and again another mpreg fic

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rotten-angel-bonez · 3 years

Text

Harm reduction for people with BED

I have struggled and am still struggling with a kind of binge eating disorder (mixed with that spicy spicy anorexia) and on tumblr I always see harm reduction for people with EDs being focused on restrictive eating disorders. And while that's nice and all it never helped me with the binging side of my ED.

SO, I did some research and will now provide you with professional tips and personal experience on how to not fucking die from your BED because you fucking can.

Okay, now, what even is a binge ?

[binj] 1. a period of uncontrolled or excessive self-indulgent activity

Important keywords uncontrolled and excessive

Meaning, us people with BED can't exactly control our binge urges and we don't simply stop when we're full. This is quite important because people will sometimes mislabel overeating as a binge and that can be pretty harmful as overeating is rather linked to self control and portrays binges as something everyone should be able to control.

However, there are some things you can do to prevent frequent binge urges. While these may work for some people, they won't for others and that's super duper okay and you're still 1000% valid.

Preventive measures:

- making sure you're hydrated

- regularly taking vitamins (and other mineral supplements if necessary)

- having a balanced diet (aka eating frequently and getting all the nutrients you need, his includes unhealthy snacks too)

- getting enough protein!!

- knowing and trying to avoid triggers (trigger foods, situations etc.)

As I said, these won't always work but they can help.

If you aren't able to basically prevent a binge, you can still make sure you're being safe when you binge.

These "tips" are about reducing the calorie intake during a binge (note: there is not calorie limit that qualifies something as a binge, the thing that's important is HOW these things are consumed -> without control/excessively), improving your overall wellbeing after the binge and reducing guilt.

How to make a binge safer:

(Some of these may be quite obvious but I think they're still important to mention)

- binge on fruit and/or vegetables -> less guilt because healthy; you may feel satisfied faster; your body generally feels better the days after bc vitamins and water in those

- drink something in between foods/bites/during the binge -> uncomfortable fulness feeling that drives you to stop sets in faster but also goes away faster; hydration; helps with digestion

- eat high volume foods (salad etc; foods that are high in volume but low in calories) -> earlier fulness; feeling satisfied earlier

- take small breaks in between foods -> forcing yourself to stop for a few minutes (while telling yourself you're allowed to continue eating after that) may help you "get a grip" of your urges and stop completely (this might not work for everyone)

- try to eat foods that are low carb (may be really difficult bc I know that pasta/bread/pizza craving is one hell of a bitch) -> you will be less bloated the next day (which may be easier to handle mentally)

- decide to binge on something that you have to prepare first -> test your binge's "dedication" and maybe it's either too much work or while you're preparing the food, the urge disappears or flares down

- eat ice -> idk how to explain this but sometimes just the sensation of chewing on something (gum might work too for some people, doesn't for me) helps me and makes the urge to binge go away

The binge happened, what now?

Later that day or the following days, you might feel like shit, physically and mentally.

So how do you work through that feeling?

How to feel better physically after a binge:

- make yourself some hot tea (chamomile, peppermint, green tea or just whatever you like) and sip on that -> helps to be less bloated

- sip on water throughout the day (don't chug it) -> helps digestion and to be less bloated

- go on a walk, get some fresh air, do light exercises like yoga -> get your body moving and burn *some* calories; helps to feel better and less sick; takes away some of the guilt you might be holding onto (DON'T HEAVILY EXCERCISE AS IT MIGHT FUCK YOUR BODY UP EVEN MORE AND MAKE YOU RLY SICK)

- take a nap

- don't frickin fast (might make you binge again), instead have some light meals filled with fiber -> boost metabolism and digestion (I suggest waiting until 24-36 hours after your binge to really fast again -> stomach expanded a lot and you might get so hungry you binge, so wait for your stomach to relax a bit)

How to feel better mentally:

- don't look in the mirror for too long -> you're probably bloated and seeing your body like that will not help

- don't weigh yourself for 2-5 days after your binge -> your weight will have jumped up a whole bunch, it might be mostly water weight but it could still upset you

- don't beat yourself up about it, cut yourself some slack and be kind to yourself

- try to work through your feelings and find out what might have caused your binge -> that way you may be able to avoid such situations in the future

- accept that it happened and that there was no way for you to prevent it, it's not your fault

- remember that you are not any less valid or less loved because you binged, your worth is not defined by this

This is all I can come up with right now,

You are important and loved and deserve recovery♡

Stay safe, everyone

[It would really mean the world to me if you could reblog this even if you have a restrictive eating disorder]

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jinkicake · 4 years

Text

Love You Like I Can

Hinata, Kenma, Tendou when their darling finally breaks up with their s/o.

Hinata Shouyou x Reader

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Tendou Satori x Reader

Anon, I apologize, I kinda branched off into something much darker than you maybe intended,,,,,, I couldn’t help myself/still can’t believe I wrote this LOL........ For those wondering what my Feitan writings are like, it is like this but much worse,,,,, sigh. Also! Please let me know if I forgot to tag a tw, I think I got it all,,,,

SMUT // NSFW

TW : heavy implications of yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, sadistic/masochist behavior, dubcon (kinda),,,

Take this into consideration before you read ^^^

WC- 2,171

~~~

Hinata Shouyou

Do you know Yoosung from Mystic Messenger,,,, LOL I think you guys know where I am going with this,,, Yoosung is the same type of yandere that Hinata would be like…. In this situation/in my mind

Hinata is so sweet and pure that it almost seems unreal for him to be possessive and protective,,,, not to mention obsessive and controlling,,,, so you never see it coming

Pls, if he sees you talking to any guy that isn’t him ,,,,, or any person even,,,, I think he would get really riled up

He’d want to be with you always and be the only one that you’re thinking about….

Hinata just reminds me of that soft boy™ who would turn out to be a mf yandere type…..

Let’s say you go to Shiratorizawa and you know Hinata from volleyball,,, bc your s/o also plays volleyball. When word gets out that you and your s/o break up, Hinata would be the first to comfort you and would be so supportive with everything you do

Then it kinda goes to shit because one minute you’re drinking something and then the next you’re waking up in an unknown room that you’ve never seen before. You’re all tied up and can barely move, can barely focus on what is even in the room

When you finally wake up Hinata is so happy and he still has that exciting energy he always has,, he’s like ‘ah I’ve been waiting for ten hours and now you’re finally awake!!!!’ And if you try to ask like where you are and stuff, Hinata would just say some bs like ‘you’re with me?’

This mf,,,,, I feel like when he tortures you, he kinda twists it into a way that it makes it seem like he is doing it for your own benefit. Like him carving his initials into your skin is to protect you and for everyone to know who you belong to, that sorta thing

Hinata would put all his energy into showing you why you belong with him, why you two need to be together, he’d probably punish you for not seeing it sooner and that’s where the angry sex comes in….

“Didn’t you know I was there for you all along?” Hinata asks curiously, still thrusting three of his fingers inside of you while ignoring the muffled whines and cries that leave your lips. “Why did it take you so long to come to me?” He continues to ask, a frown taking up his face as he voices his thoughts. His fingers inside of you once brought pleasure but now they are bringing pain, he has made you cum five times and has not once stopped. Your walls are feeling so stretched and every touch to your clit feels like you’re being shocked with electricity, it hurts. “Don’t you realize how much I love you? Why not me? Am I not good enough for you?”

His orange hair dips as his frustration oozes out of him and he flicks his wrist as he curls his fingers inside of you, dragging along your walls to find that one spot.

“You’re all mine now, I don’t have to worry anymore, right?” He growls and stares at you, his eyebrows furrowed and the dark look on his face makes him look unrecognizable.

“You don’t have to worry anymore, Shouyo-“ You cry, and your back arches into the air as he finally drags his fingers along that spot.

“Good, good.” He sighs happily and uses his other hand to rub your clit with four of his fingers. “I love you (Y/N), I love you so much and now you’re all mine!”

Hinata’s eyes light up with need as he stares at your swollen clit getting tortured underneath his fingers, his mouth waters at the sight of your cum spilling down his wrist. Hinata sticks his tongue out of his mouth in concentration as he repeatedly snaps his wrist to thrust his curled fingers along your walls and his mouth drops out when you squirt all over him.

“You must love me so much, don’t you (Y/N)?” Hinata asks you and you don’t have the nerve to tell him that you hadn’t just cum, not when he is like this. His orange hair dips once again between your thighs as he mutters to himself. “It is so obvious, how did I never notice before.”

Kozume Kenma

Now,,, with Kenma….. I think his feelings would be really dormant for a while,,,, like he would always have these obsessive tendencies with you but he would be able to control it and hide it

He’d become your friend and gain your trust,,, then stick cameras in your room when you’re not watching so then he can always know what you’re doing

Kenma is the type where your friends would joke about him having a little crush on you and you’d all laugh it off but in reality,,, Kenma is obsessed with you…. He doesn’t simply have a crush on you,,, he is in love with you

And as soon as you break up with your s/o, all his restraint will fly out the window. He will have zero problems taking you back to his own apartment/room and keep you there,,,,, Kenma does this in a way so that it makes you think you have control over the situation like you’re going to his place because you want to

He kinda reminds me of 707 type yandere you know? I don’t know why I keep referring to mystic messenger character but it helps me write this so….

Kenma won’t pay any attention to you or give you any attention but just simply having you in the same room as him makes him feel calmer, he lets you talk or rant for as long as you like,,, he is very manipulative with this whole thing

However, when Kenma finally has enough of you talking about your stupid ex s/o that he cannot stand ,,,, he will shut you up

Cue him kissing you and shit~,,, this will go from 0 to 100 real quick like what you think is your ‘friend’ trying to make you feel better will turn into Kenma’s dormant feelings exploding with every touch

All his previous feelings of rejection and just an obsessive need to make you his will surface,,, but he does it in such a way that it isn’t that intense and you’re into it…… even if he has an entire closet filled with sex toys that he wants to use on you

Kenma will leave physical marks on you….. You’re not coming out of this the same, no, he has a hold on you now and he is never going to let go

“Kenma!” You cry out as his slender cock rubs along your walls, his arms tighten around you and you moan again at the feeling of his warm skin.

“I can fuck you so much better than they could,” He whispers into your ear as he twists your leg up into an odd angle, one that makes it easier for him to dive deeper into you but also makes your muscle scream in pain.

“W-what?” You ask, unable to focus on what Kenma is saying due to heat taking over your body.

“You never moaned like this with them before,” Kenma mentally notes and begins to bite down on your neck, letting his thin hair tickle your jaw. “I’m going to show you how much I care about you.”

You can only nod at his words, even if you have zero clues what he is saying, it doesn’t really matter when he’s fucking you this good. It’s like you can’t even remember your own name.

“You like that, don’t you?” He coos in amazement and tests his theory as he sits up on the back of his calves, holding you up by your waist with your legs draped over his shoulders, practically fucking you upside down. This new angle makes you feel everything, and the gravitational pull on your breasts makes you grab onto them which brings a new wave of pleasure.

“Oh, Kenma I’ve never been fucked like this before,” You mewl happily and take pleasure in the way he is quite literally rearranging your guts. Kenma smirks to himself and digs his nails into your waist, watching as you wince slightly.

“I know, I know.” He mutters quietly and continues to smack his hips into your ass, watching with heavily lust-filled eyes at the way you squirm at the sting. “What kind of filthy whore likes this kind of play?” Kenma wonders in amusement, the deep crescent moon shapes are left into your skin by his nails and Kenma starts to wonder what exactly else he can get away with you.

Tendou Satori

Tendou,,,, ah,,, I kept thinking about this one for a while……

He would somehow always be able to keep tabs on you,,, even if you’re not really friends and if you go to different schools. Whether it be that he just always keeps himself updated on your social media or hears a lot about you,

Any aspect of your life… Tendou will somehow know about it without you even realizing it… He also is very attentive with your s/o too and always keeps tabs on them as well and very soon it turns into an obsession like Tendou has to have you

Tendou wants you so badly and all to himself, to the point that he can’t hold himself back and he needs to talk to you

Even if you go to different schools Tendou will coincidentally run into you, it is so perfect that you’d never expect that every minor detail was planned, and he slowly builds up your friendship from there

Tendou seems like the type to be very clingy and always touching you but not to the point where you’re weirded out by it,,,, he does it in a way that you genuinely come to like…. You and your s/o probably break up because of Tendou

I feel like Tendou would manipulate his actions so that you genuinely fall for him,,,, which works perfectly for him because now he has you all to himself

It’s like a flip is switched and Tendou goes from your caring friend to the possessive person he is, all his feelings come pouring out and he can’t help the way he treats you

I feel like when you cry it turns him on so he wants to see your tears when he fucks you,,,, Tendou plans everything he does and manipulates every aspect so you start to enjoy it and you think it is just some hot sex when really….. it is just Tendou showing you everything he feels for you

You are literally his after this,,,, Tendou is not going to let you go,,,, and you wouldn’t want it any other way

Your elbows give out after a particularly hard thrust and you fall face-first into the mattress. Tendou grins and cockily rolls his shoulders back before pressing on the back of your head with his palm to shove your face into the sheets. You can barely fucking breathe but with the way Tendou is slapping his hips into your ass and the way his balls are deliciously slamming into your clit, you don’t care.

“You’ve always wanted my attention, haven’t you?” Tendou spits and narrows his eyes down at you. “You always wanted me to fuck you like this, I know how much you like me.” He throws out into the air and if you could nod, you would. “That little Seijoh boy can’t fuck you like this? Can he?” Tendou mocks and you moan loudly at his words. “If only he could see you now, see how good I am fucking you.”

Tendou brings his hand down to slap your ass, the arch in your back has your ass practically shoved into his face. His grin only widens when he sees how your ass jiggles for him and how each thrust has your tits slapping your face.

“Tell me I’m the biggest cock you’ve ever had.” He twists your hair around his fist and yanks your neck so that your face is slightly up again. You take in a deep breath of fresh air and whine loudly.

“Yes,” You cry and Tendou raises an eyebrow before slapping your ass again, laughing at the way tears fall down your face at the sting.

“Yes, what?” He asks darkly and places his had right against your spine, right above your ass before pressing down hard. The pressure makes you sob even harder and you whimper at the pain.

“You have the b-biggest cock I’ve ever had.” You repeat and relax into the sheets when he starts fucking you again, the fast pace is something you refuse to try and even keep up with so you lay against the sheets with your eyes closed.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now (Y/N), we aren’t even close to being done.”

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder

#hinata shoyo x reader #kozume kenma x reader #tendou satori x reader #hinata x reader #kenma x reader #tendou x reader #hinata smut #kenma smut #tendou smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut

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fandom-puff · 4 years

Text

Satisfaction

Pairing: Finn Shelby x reader, Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested by: anon

Prompts: //

Summary: YN can’t help but be drawn to finn’s older brother Tommy...

AN: okay so I have VERY mixed feelings about this bc on the one hand bby Finn, but on the other hand, Tommy knows what he’s doing. So basically, Finn and YN are more friends with benefits than boyfriend and girlfriend

Warnings: smut, (sort of) cheating, Dom/sub kink, rough sex, spanking

Rolling your eyes, you turned on your side, facing away from a snoring Finn. There was no dull ache in your thighs, no love bites on your skin... you sighed, standing up and wrapping finn’s shirt around yourself as you padded to his little bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you washed away the sticky mess between your thighs that came all to quickly for your liking. You glared at your reflection, running a hand through your hair. You didn’t look well-fucked and you certainly didn’t feel it. Sighing to yourself, you buttoned the shirt up and slipped into your knickers again before getting back into bed.

What you wouldn’t give to have your knickers torn and your wrists rubbed raw from bonds. As Finn snored, your mind wandered... you nodded off to images of your ass getting swatted, your tits being pinched, your cunt being well and truly used... Finn was a lovely boy, and you’d known him since you were little, but... he was shit at sex. You brought it up several times, asking him to finger you or eat you out or control you in some way, but he always told you he didn’t have the time, that he had to be somewhere. It was always fast, sloppy and over in minutes. And it was leaving you increasingly frustrated.

It all came to a head a few weeks later. As you walked into the garrison, Harry asked if you could take the tray of whiskeys into the snug, as the bar was getting pretty busy. You smiled, happy to help, but when you got into the snug, your ankle rolled in your stupid new shoes, and the glasses shattered to the floor. “Fuck!”

“Now now,” tommy grinned, blowing out a puff of smoke as you got on your knees to tidy the mess up. “Such deplorable language from a sweet young lady. Leading our Finn astray,”

You glared up at him, your lips curling into a pout. “Oh piss off, Shelby,” you hissed.

“Oy. Language.” He said lowly. You stared into his eyes for a moment, unable to stop your shiver at the commanding tone.

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled. You soon cleared up the mess and got fresh glasses, before Finn pulled you onto his lap. John and Arthur whistled, and you blushed furiously, looking down. A while later, he began pressing clumsy kisses to your neck, mistaking your squirm as you enjoying it. You soon had enough. “Ugh... Finn. Pack it in! I’m no5 in the mood,” you groaned, pushing him away slightly and pouring yourself more whiskey. Finn looked at you.

“Ah come on, YN, let’s go home...” he said, biting his lip at you slightly. He was getting cocky recently, for no rea reason. You didn’t really like it. “I’ll sort you out, eh...”

You gritted your teeth. “No. I’m not going home with you tonight Finn. I’m not in the mood,” you stood up from the table going to the bathroom to take a moment. When you returned to the snug, Finn had left. You sighed feeling a little guilty, but at the same time... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. Eventually John and Arthur left (John to go and relive Esme of the kids, and Arthur because he was very nearly passing out with the amount of whiskey he’d consumed). That left you and tommy.

Tommy watched you for a moment as you leaned back. In actual fact, he’d been watching you since you dropped the glasses. When you pushed Finn away, saying you weren’t in the mood, he had cocked his eyebrow up. You were flustered, your brow slightly clammy... breathing heavily, irritable... oh yes. Tommy Shelby could practically feel the sexual tension radiating off you. He was confused at first- Finn had told his brothers about when he first fucked you, if he wondered in late and looking dazed... clearly his younger brother was enjoying himself more than his fuck buddy. “Finn worn you out then?” He smirked, sipping his drink. You looked up with wide eyes.

“Wh...” you began. You were about to bluff, but then you saw the stony look etched onto his handsome face and buckled, unwittingly allowing yourself to submit to him without him really trying. “No. Not in the slightest,” you murmured, looking down to your lap.

“Eyes up.”

Your head shot up and you looked at him with wide innocent eyes. He smirked. “So responsive. Haven’t even touched you yet. Come here,” he arched his brows in question, and you quickly crawled over to him. You sighed happily, letting him stroke your hair affectionately as you kneeled on the booth. “You’re practically buzzing with energy...” he murmured. “I bet you’ve never had a proper orgasm, have you pet?” You blushed slightly and mumbled, looking down. “What’s that? Speak up,” he ordered. You looked up and gulped.

“I have but... not with Finn,” you said, biting your lip softly. Tommy smirked.

“Not with Finn, ay? With somebody else then?” You shook your head and his eyes darkened. “Oh... by your own hands?”

“Yes sir,” you murmured. Tommy squeezed your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, leaning close to you.

“Like a little slut, ay? Naughty little sluts like you deserve to be punished, don’t they, Hmm?” You moaned wantonly, nodding eagerly.

“ Please...” you whispered.

***

Not fifteen minutes later you found yourself pushed up against your front door by your throat as tommy kissed you roughly while you shoved his coat off his arms. He wedged his thigh between your legs, groaning as he trailed kisses down your neck as you ground your hips on his leg.

“Look at you, already so needy,” he growled, biting your shoulder harshly. You whined out, quivering with excitement. “Tell me what you want, yn, and make sure you ask nicely,”

You moaned softly. “P-please, sir, please f-fuck me and spank me... please make me cum, please sir!”

Tommy smirked, kissing your forehead. “Good girl. Go to your bedroom. I want you naked. I want you with your face down and your pretty arse up, with your legs spread... off you go,” you moaned softly and nodded eagerly, practically running to get into position. He shook his head fondly at your innocent eagerness. He soon arrived in your room and groaned at the sight, licking his lips. “Right... YN... this will be more intense than what you’ve ever had, you understand?” You nodded. “Verbal answers,” he said sharply.

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked.

“So if it gets too much, you’re to tell me. If it gets too much, say... red, alright? Colour system. Amber if it’s getting too intense, red if you really need to stop, Green if everything is okay. So, what colour are you now?”

“Green, sir,” you said, biting your lip. He nodded and came up behind you. You held your breath for a moment, waiting for him to fuck you into oblivion.

His hand cracked against your arse and you jolted, letting out a squeal.

“Colour?” Tommy asked, rubbing away the sting.

“Still green. More, please, more!” You begged.

“Whore,” he said simply, before planting three more spanks on your arse in rapid succession. He let you calm down for a moment, before alternating between each cheek, warming up your skin. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Whose good girl are you, YN?”

“Y-yours, Tommy! Yours!” You cried out, biting your lip hard. He gave you a few more swats before dipping his fingers into your wetness. “Oh- Oh! Please fuck me, please!” You moaned, pushing yourself back on his fingers. He grinned, smearing your wetness around your needy cunt, before tasting you. He groaned softly.

“I’m going to have to have you coming on my tongue at some point, love. You don’t half taste amazing,” he moaned, unzipping his trousers, lining his cock up. Slowly, he pushed into you, groaning at your tightness while you whimpered at his size.

He left you to adjust for a moment before you began grinding your hips slightly. He grabbed hold of your hips, pushing his fingers into your flesh, starting to fuck you ruthlessly. The constant assault of your most sensitive spots had you moaning like a well-paid whore within moments as tommy fucked you. You cried out, already seeing spots as tommy pounded into you, and you whimpered when he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You like this, eh, love? Like being fucked like a little slut?” You moaned almost embarrassingly loud, unable to stop the sound as it escaped your lips. You could barely form the word ‘yes’ and Tommy just smirked down at you. As he fucked you, he spanked your arse a few more times, loving the way you jolted and tightened your cunt around him. You were so tight, so warm, so wet... he felt his cock twitch slightly in warning and he moaned, reaching around you to rub your sensitive little clit. You cried out, your whole body shaking as you held back your orgasm, wanting this moment to last forever.

“Please!” You squealed, arching your back.

“Please what darling?” He groaned through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming a little sloppier. Even his sloppy thrusts made your eyes roll back, you noted.

“Please may I cum? Please?” You groaned out. When tommy told you yes, you let out a loud, broken cry of sheer ecstasy, your front half pitching forward into the pillows as you muffled your sighs. You felt tommy pull out and whined from the loss, but moaned again when you felt his cum spattering against the backs of your thighs. He pushed his thumb roughly against your clit and you screamed, overstimulated but still pushing against his hand, rutting your hips against his calloused thumb until you came again, your vision blurring- whether from tears or pure pleasure (or both) you couldn’t quite decipher. After what felt like the tenth powerful orgasm (in reality it was perhaps the fourth or maybe fifth) you pushed Tommy’s hand away from your sex, moaning “enough... red,”.

Tommy smiled and wiped you clean, coming to your side. “You were a very good girl for me, YN,” he murmured, stroking the tears off your cheeks. “Very good,” you smiled lazily and let your eyes droop slightly, completely spent. Tommy smiled and tucked a blanket around you gently, kissing your forehead. You had no idea how this would affect your relationship... whether Finn would still keep asking you round for a quick fuck when he felt like it, or if tommy didn’t like to share... all that you’d sort out in the morning, but for now you were well fucked and sated, your hair a complete mess, a dull ache already blooming between your legs, lovebites on your shoulders... you were, for the first time in your life, utterly well-fucked.

Tag List: @the-makingsofgreatness @peakyswritings @haphazardhufflepuff @diksy1112 @zodiyack @soleil-dor @hiddensapphic @fckingpeakyblinders @snugleo @alittlebirds @satanxklaus @glamsaturn @thegirlwithoutaname87 @queenofmankind @awkwardretro @captivatedbycillianmurphy @xshinytrashcanx @hanster1998 @cheekypeakyblinders @champagneholland @moonlover-tobefree @beccibooboo @theendlessdays

#tommy shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders smut #finn shelby x you #finn shelby x reader #request #peaky blinders

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passivenovember · 3 years

Note

Another stupid Harringrove HC bc I'm full of them! Billy being the kind of obnoxious ass who will be pouring you a drink all 'tell me when to stop' and everytime Steve gets distracted or looks away he just keeps pouring until the drink is overflowing and spilling out of the cup and all over the table and he'll still keep going until Steve says 'Stop!', meaning, 'what the fuck, Billy!?' and 'WOAH' and 'knock it off!' are not accepted.

I'm so sorry this took so long!!

When you sent me this I was over the moon because this?? Is Billy's humor exactly. I thought for so long about the perfect universe to build for you, but instead put it in one of my WIPs.

This is a snippet from chapter seven of If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields. I hope you enjoy it.

"How many bottles of this shit do you keep on hand?"

"Cosmo says we should drink a glass of wine a night, so." Billy counts on his fingers. "Four? Seven? I dunno." He giggles. "Is there something in there you like?"

Steve hiccups, moving to cover his mouth with one hand but giggling when the hiccup beats him to it. He looks at Billy with wide, playful eyes. "How many bottles have we had, then, is anyone keeping count?"

His cheeks are so pink.

Billy's never even seen a shade of pink that vibrant, that lovely, and he feels like it could be a fluke because he works in a kindergarten classroom, for Christ sake. Some of his kids have the big pack of Crayola with everything from bubblegum to magenta wasted on cheap construction paper, but Steve.

He has them all beat, the way his tongue pokes out to put a glaze on his lips.

Pink pink pink.

Billy pours them each another glass, leaning heavily on the coffee table to keep from tipping over. "Where did the other bottles go?" He whispers.

Steve looks around wildly, shifting on his haunches to look under the coffee table. When he pops back up he nearly knocks the glass over and that sends them rolling down the hill. Clutching their sides in laughter.

"I love wine." Billy says, finishing his glass. "I love spilling stuff, too. Creating puddles to jump around in."

"I didn't mean to spill."

"You didn't, but you could." Billy slaps a thick, heavy hand on the hardwood below him. "Just dump the whole fuckin' bottle out, if you want to. These babies are indestructible."

Steve gasps, leaning all the way across the coffee table until Billy thinks maybe his head has filled with helium. "My friend just had a baby."

Billy wants to throw up. "Congratulations."

"Babies really are indestructible," Steve says with a voice full of glittering wonder. "The baby will crawl the fuck around sometimes, and I'm always worried his little arms will break when Robin swaddles him because it looks uncomfortable--"

"I like being swaddled." Billy says. Matter of fact.

But Steve isn't listening. He makes a bowl shape with his hands, like, "And his little noggin' just finished growing, like. Yesterday." He folds his arms, frowning. "I'm surprised Robin and her nanny haven't dropped him yet."

Billy leans back on his palms. "What about her husband, does he have a hand in all this?"

"She's raising the baby on her self."

"Like, on her tit? Breastfeeding?" Billy whispers, nearly dying when Steve's wine comes out through his nose.

They spend the next five minutes cleaning up peach scented snot with a paper towel, joining each other on the floor in front of the couch. Almost touching but not quite, as Billy gets the last of it, his fingers gentle on Steve's chin to hold him still.

Billy likes touching Steve.

Billy wants them to be like this forever, and for always. Drinking wine on his living room floor in damp, distant candle light. Steve's eyes have gone heavy lidded, like he's bare-knuckle boxing to stay awake. Billy runs his thumb over Steve's mouth, pretending to dab away the last bit of boogers.

Steve leans into the touch.

Billy keeps touching him. "Maybe you should lay down," He says. "Does your head hurt?"

"My nose burns. It feels like sizzling bacon." Steve wines, and.

It's adorable. Billy pulls Steve to his chest on impulse and Steve doesn't think twice about it, laying down with his head in Billy's lap once he manages to slide from collarbone to hip. His nose is red.

Pink and red, like valentines day.

Billy plays with Steve's hair, winding strands around his fingers and tugging until Steve bats at him, lazy and slow. "Don't pull my hair out of my head, Bill."

"I won't."

"I need it."

Billy grins. "For what?"

"For love. And Sex. And engagement photos, when he finally puts two and two together."

"When who puts two and three--"

"Two."

"Can we stop talking about math?" Billy whines, tugging on Steve's hair again. "Jesus, I feel like I've done more math today than I have in fucking years."

Steve giggles, high and light like a baby. "God help the youth of Hawkins."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're cute." Steve pouts, turning until his nose is buried in Billy's stomach. When he speaks again the words are all muffled. "I should help you find a wife."

And.

Billy doesn't even want to get into that. The impossibility of it all.

"Oh sure, maybe I'll date your friend with the baby," Billy teases, smirking when Steve bites him. "I'm not so good with babies but once the kid can shit in a toilet we'll be best pals."

Steve sits like the ground is on fire, getting right up in Billy's face. "You can't marry her." Steve says triumphantly.

Billy tucks the hair behind Steve's ears. "Why not?"

"Because she's a lesbian." Harrington pokes Billy's nose with his finger, and then with his own nose, like, "Ha-ha, you little cherub asshole, I foiled your plan!"

Steve giggles.

And rocks them back and forth.

And keeps staring at Billy with those eyes. All soft, so.

Billy moves away. "You getting sleepy?"

Steve cranes his neck to stare at the half empty bottle of Boone's on the floor next to them. He raises his eyebrows once, twice, three times, until Billy shakes his head.

"You need water, Harrington."

"I want wine."

"You're gonna hate yourself in the morning."

Steve gets on his haunches, finally pulling away from Billy to grab their empty glasses. He holds them over his head, like, "I'd never hate waking up here." And the glasses make little lady bug antenna's on Steve's head, so.

Who is Billy to argue.

He grabs the bottle and sets up shop, telling Steve to put the glasses on the coffee table so they won't spill.

Steve's lips form a pout. "You promised me a puddle to jump around in."

"I didn't--"

"You mentioned puddles to a drunk bisexual, Billy." Steve says, the picture of resolve. "What else is a gay to do? Forget about it? Move on?"

Billy shakes his head, putting the spout of the bottle over Steve's wine glass. "Tell me when to stop, pretty boy."

Steve nods with his whole body as the glass turns orange in the candle light.

Billy glances at Steve, watching him watch the bottle drain. "Um, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Steve says dreamily.

The glass starts to overflow.

Harrington jolts into action, like, "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting you some wine."

"It's spilling all over the place--"

"I thought you wanted a puddle, Steve."

"I was joking."

"Well you have to tell me when you stop." Billy says, almost bored. Like this is something he does everyday.

"Okay," Steve says, as if gathering his thoughts.

Billy keeps going.

Steve swats him, like, "I said okay, what the fuck--"

"Yeah, but you didn't say stop."

"Well fucking STOP, Billy." Steve laughs, loud and bright. "You're crazy, you know that? Like an apple falling from the tree or whatever it is they say?"

And that's not at all what they say, but.

Steve's fingers make little splashes in the puddle Billy creates for them, anyway, until the room seems to disappear.

#harringrove #snow storms #snowed in #fluff #jaz speaks #billy hargrove #steve harrington

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jean-kayak · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Summary: A relaxing summer after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: Eren being a HUGE fucking tease

Word Count: 1851

A/N: This is lowkey a filler chapter, kinda just something that advances the story, and heightens the tension. And I decided to start to posting on Tuesdays and Fridays bc this series is mad long lmao

Tags: @her-majesty-kiara, @germfart3, @styxtm, @iwascrybaby, @snkpaths, @prxttyguardian

Chapter Summary: You’re falling deeper and deeper into his spell

Your plans haven't been completely thwarted, you've hung out at Jean's house and haven't seen Eren since, so you feel a little bit better. You're at your house this time, the fans blowing on you as you both lay on the floor.

"Remind me why I keep letting you take me outside," you groan, the fans barely working to cool you down.

"Because you love me," he returns, and you shake your head as you roll over onto your back.

"No, that can't be it," you tease, squealing lightly when a pillow comes flying your way, putting your arms up to shield your face. You hear the front door open, but you don't move, letting your head rest against the cool wooden floor.

"Oh, no, the kids are dead," your mom jokes, and you and Jean both chuckle as you turn your head to look at her. "Sweetie, do you think you could help me with something outside real quick?"

You whine as you scrunch your nose. "But, Mom, it's hot," you complain, and she rolls her eyes before waving you off.

"Girl, come on, it won't take long." You groan but slowly start to get up anyway.

"Ha ha," you hear Jean laugh like a little kid, and you chuck the pillow at him as you scowl at him. You whine again when you feel the heat pounding at your skin, and you follow your mom towards one of her flower beds.

"Uh, Mom, those plants aren't going to survive," you tell her, feeling the humid air suffocating you as you wave a hand in front of your face in vain.

She laughs lightly before wiping her forehead, and she digs another hole. "They'll be fine, it's gonna get cooler." You raise your eyebrows at her words as you wait for her to tell you what to do. "I'm almost out of dirt, so I need you to get some from the garage."

You sigh heavily, but turn around anyway and make your way towards the garage. You grimace when the place is way hotter than the outside, and you look for the dirt and sighing when you find it, realizing you have to lift it. You squat down to pick it up, situating it until your arms are wrapped around it with it firmly placed against your chest.

As you walk out of the garage, you look to your left, and you instantly regret it. You don't even realize you've stopped in your tracks as your eyes land on Eren who's working on his truck. He looks up and makes eye contact with you, an easy smirk appearing across his face.

Before you can blink or do anything, he standing upright, slipping his t-shirt off quickly, shoving it in his back pocket before fixing his hair. You bite your lip to stop yourself from drooling which you know you were doing, and even from where you're standing, you can see his chiseled abs and defined back muscles shining in the sun rays with sweat, and he moves back to working on his car, his biceps flexing with every movement.

"Y/N!" You jump when you hear your name, expecting it to be your mom when you look around for the source, but you smile when you see Ymir walking up your driveway.

"Ymir, hey, how are you?" you ask, adjusting the bag of dirt in your arms that's slipping from the amount of sweat on your arms.

"Glad that school is over," she answers, stopping when she gets to you, and you scoff in agreement.

"I know that's right." She laughs with you before turning to where you were looking not too long ago.

"Holy shit, is that Eren Jaeger?" she asks in disbelief, and you smack her with the bag.

"Shut up! He can probably hear you," you scold, and you glance at him. "And yeah, it is."

"I thought he couldn't get any hotter," she comments, and you nod your head as you silently agree with her. "But he's not really my type," she finishes with a shrug, and you chuckle as you turn towards her.

"Yes, we know. Your type is Historia." You laugh again when she shoves at you before you both turn to walk back towards your mom.

You both hit it off pretty quickly when you met, and she was always someone you hung out with whenever Jean wasn't free. Even though you would trust her with your life, you never breathed a word to her about any of your interactions with Eren. Whenever she would ask, you'd give her meaningless or one-sentence answers. Jean finding out what happened back then was enough embarrassment for you.

"How ya doing, Mrs. L/N," Ymir greets, and your mom turns around, standing up quickly in surprise.

"Ymir, oh wow, it's been a while hasn't it?" she asks, resting her hands on her hips.

"It has, it's good to see you," she tells her, and your mom returns it, and Ymir asks what she's doing.

"Planting in the scorching heat of summer," you answer, and your mom rolls her eyes at you. "And now she's got me out here in the heat." She chuckles as she grabs the bag from you, and you wince when you feel how sore your muscles are from holding the dirt when you let them fall to your sides. "Why are you planting anyway?"

"Your father and I made a bet. He doesn't think that I'll be able to grow them," she explains as she gets back down on the ground to open the bag of dirt.

"Can Dad even keep plants alive?"

"You know, I asked him the same thing." You all share a laugh before you and Ymir head inside. Jean's still laying on the floor, but this time his head is turned as he scrolls through his phone. You hear them start talking as you go to get something to drink for you and Ymir.

You walk back into the living room, handing it to her as you find your original place on the floor, and the three of you catch up on what's happened over the course of your freshman and sophomore year, most of the conversation consisting of teasing Jean. You hear the door open, and your mom's complaining about the heat, but what she says after that makes you shoot your head up.

"Come on in, Eren, you've been out there for a while, you're always welcome."

"Thank you so much, Mrs. L/N." You sit up quickly, your eyes landing on a shirtless Eren standing in your foyer, shorts hanging so low on his hips that you're sure it should be a crime as he smirks at you.

"Y/N, why don't you get him some water while I got wash up?" You sit there for a second, dumbfounded before you move, not wanting to raise suspicion as your mom walks out of sight.

"And I still have to see you even when I'm not at home," Jean groans when you stand.

"Love you, too, bro," Eren jokes before following behind you. You open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, and tossing it to him without looking at him. You hear snippets of the conversation between Ymir and Jean, thankful that they're not listening. "Thanks," he tells you, and you trail your eyes up his body, meeting that stupid smirk on his face as he screws the cap off.

He never takes his eyes off of yours, and you watch his Adam's apple bob, some of the water dripping down his face before you snap out of it. "You're, uh, welcome."

He smiles at you when he finishes the whole thing and tossing it into the recycling bin. "I really appreciate it," he says, walking towards you until your back hits the fridge, the cooling sensation not the only thing that causes you to shudder.

"It was no problem. Seriously." You want to push him back, but that would mean you would have to touch him, and every part of his torso is nothing but muscle, and you try to keep your gaze on his face and not his glistening skin.

"I feel like I should pay you back somehow," he starts, his voice dangerously low, and you grip the handles as you shrug.

"You don't have to do that. It's just water," you respond weakly, and he rests a hand flat against the fridge next to your head.

"But I want to," he pushes, and you shrug again as you try to find anything else to look at.

"What did you have in mind?" Your mind isn't even on the right track anymore, Eren is the only thing filling your senses.

He steps closer to you, letting his hand fall, his finger tracing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its path. "I've got a lot in mind."

"L-Like what?" You shouldn't be pushing him, you should be leaving, but he always manages to keep you frozen in place.

"For starters," he says, gripping your hip softly. "I'd pin you down and mark every inch of your skin so that everyone knows that you're mine."

You feel your head spinning, the dizzying feeling nearly making your legs go weak, and when he trails a finger up your neck, you look over his shoulder finding a spot on the wall to try and ground yourself. "Then what?"

He huffs softly as he grips your chin, making you look at him, and you don't fight it. "Then," he starts, leaning in closer. "I'd fuck you until you couldn't walk. Until the only thing that comes out of your mouth is my name."

Your eyes shut for a quick second as you bite your lip to muffle your whimper. "Just for a bottle of water?" you try to joke, but now you're breathing heavy, and the playful tone is overshadowed by lust, your core throbbing almost to the point of painful.

He tilts his head as he smirks at you. "Say it."

Your face scrunches slightly in confusion, but your voice is still wavering. "Say what?"

His response is a chuckle as he's backing away from you, and you grip the handles of the fridge until it hurts to keep yourself from pulling him back to you. "You'll say it eventually."

You don't really know what he's talking about, but he backs away from you to create enough distance that isn't questioning just as your mom comes into the kitchen. "Did you get him the water?" she asks, and you try to nod, but your brain is still foggy so it looks like you're malfunctioning, which you basically are.

"She did. Thanks again," he tells you, flashing that smile that he always put on around your parents. "I think I'm gonna get back to work, but it was nice talking to you."

"You as well." He gives you one last look before he's walking out, and you drop your head as you try to make your breathing even again. "He's just such a gentleman, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he sure is."

|Chapter 1|Masterlist|Chapter 3|

Taglist: CLOSED

#nothing changed #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren jaeger x black!reader #eren yaeger #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction

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corruptedconfessions · 4 years

Note

Are you still in the kiri mood? If yes, can you yeet him into this thought: different yanderes (izuku, bakugo, kiri, or whomever you want!) Reacting to a touch starved reader. Ever the stubborn captive, they deny they want anything to do with the yandere, but during some forced fluff shenanigans, the yandere accidentally squeezes readers legs/ holds onto readers shoulders deeply, and reader let's out a moan. Thanks! And remember to drink water and take a break if you need!

Ngl Kirishima, Bakugo, and Hizashi are like the 3 yanderes im always down to write 24/7

they all live in my head rent free

This one is more of an imagine/drabble thing, I threw in another bonus yandere bc I feel like he fits the prompt well. I hope thats all okay <3

Also thank you for your kindness <3 Im hydrated and hopefully ready to write out some fics! I have a few drafts in my computer already :)

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

Kirishima is the very definition of clingy yandere, he is practically the poster boy for clingy, so it won’t be very long into your...moving in (he refuses to admit he kidnapped you! You were just too shy to ask yourself so he encouraged you! Don’t worry he gets the message no matter what you say otherwise!) that he’ll catch on to you being so desperately touch starved despite angrily telling him to fuck off every time he tries to cuddle. Being the ever delusional puppy he is he just assumes that you’re shy and keeps doing it even more

He’ll try to respect your space and let you come to him naturally but he’ll still insist on being close to you, dragging you to sit on the couch, you sitting on one end with him sitting on the other, your legs entangled in the middle. He’ll wait until you are engrossed in the tv or your book or whatever hobby of choice you have (the poor sap will buy you anything you ask, he just wants you happy) making sure you’re completely relaxed before he slowly slides a bit closer, reaching out to run his hands across your legs, squeezing and massaging them gently. Honestly he expected you to kick him or freeze up, stare at him in fear and confusion and anger like you always did whenever he reached out to touch you.

But you didn’t do any of that. If anything you relaxed, arching up into his touch as a soft breathy moan slipped past your lips, causing both of you to freeze at the same time, staring wide eyed at each other, stunned.

If you thought Kirishima was clingy before you would be dead wrong compared to his behavior after that. He’s constantly by your side whenever he can, brushing against you in the kitchen when the two of you are cooking or washing dishes, moving closer to bump shoulders when the two of you are close by, constantly touching your hair, your neck, your shoulders, everywhere. You’ll be overstimulated and stressed but there is no going back now that he knows. Cuddles and spooning sessions whenever he can get you to sit still, honestly I wouldn’t put it past him to whine and demand you sit on his lap sometimes too, or at least lay against him and let him give you massages when the two of you are curled up on the couch.

And that isn’t even getting started on sexual touching. He’ll be like a dog in heat, constantly aching for you, practically humping you any chance he gets. He’ll wrap his arms around you waist and hold you close as he grinds his hard on against your ass, trying to pull out those cute little noises that you’ll make. Pins you against the counter, over the couch, on the table, anywhere and everywhere is free game.

And know that his poor sweet darling is touch starved? He’ll be quick to try and remedy that, he’ll tie you down to the bed and get you off just by rubbing his hands across your skin, massaging you, kissing you, just touching you. He won’t stop no matter how much you plead until he is done and he is sure that you have gotten the attention you deserve from him.

Izuku is probably one of the best yandere matches for a touch starved darling, he is so submissive and cuddly for his darling, but not so much so its overstimulating and overwhelming like other yanderes. Unlike others he is more likely to let you have your space when he...first takes you home. He understands moving is a big change and you need your time and space to adjust and adapt to your new surroundings. He may coax you out with your favorite home made meals and promises of hot baths or treats, but he’ll smile and suck it up when you yell and scream at him, saying you want nothing to do with him. You’re just stressed and adjusting thats all! He can wait you out.

Now just because he is patient and understanding doesn’t mean he just lets you do whatever you want. He has needs too! The entire reason he had you...move in was so he could be closer to you and spend more time with you without anyone else interfering! Even you just being in the same room with him without throwing a fit is enough for him to feel like his patience is being rewarded.

That patience wont last forever, though.

He tries to work his way up slowly, very slowly demanding more of you, insisting you stay just a minute longer, let him stand just an inch closer, it will be so slow you wont even realize you are practically cuddling up to him until it’s too late and you are so use to an reliant on him that you can’t go back to isolating yourself again.

He’ll always have an idea that you are a bit more...starved for attention than others but he won’t get confirmation until months into your captivity. He’ll sweetly insist that you seem stressed and that you should let him give you a massage to help you relax. His calloused hands will reach out, squeezing your shoulders soothingly, coaxing a soft happy moan from your lips.

Oh sweetheart! How can you expect him to hold back when you make such sweet noises just from a simple touch? He may be a gentleman but even he has his limits...

You can bet there will be more...touching in your future. And much less patience towards an aversion to it.

Bakugo is probably one of the worst (yandere) matches for a touch starved darling imo, the poor boy is sensitive and touch starved himself, and with his aggression he would probably just end up overstimulating his darling, and not in a good way. He’d much rather be on the receiving end of massages and pets, nuzzling himself into your chest or your stomach as you stroke his hair and tell him what a good boy he is.

Having said that he would catch on pretty quick to your little act, seeing right past the screaming and defiance and your insistence that you want nothing to do with him, which is going to get you locked up in the basement and punished heavily, he sees the subtle ways you act that remind him of himself, that tell him exactly what he needs to know.

Unlike the others when he reaches out for you, he knows exactly what he is doing and exactly what kind of reaction he is going to get. The shit eating smirk on his face as you moan in surprise tells everything. He’ll keep touching you, fingers digging into your skin just a little too hard, trying to drag more of those noises out of you until you are trembling under him, left feeling raw and sensitive. If you’re lucky he might notice that he went to far and be how ever much more gentle next time as he can be, but honestly after that he’s the same old Bakugo. He doesn’t go out of his way to touch you more, if he wants to wrap his arms around you he will, if he wants you on his lap he’ll pull you onto his lap, if he wants to lay on you, fuck what you’re doing, you get a lapful of Bakugo.

That act doesn’t hide the way that he curls around you and cuddles you way closer at night in those tender moments, though.

Hawks is another very handsy yandere. He wants constant contact and attention from his darling, so much so its almost impossible to keep up with his incessant demands for your attention, it grows draining. Even negative attention in the form of screaming, crying, fighting seems to fuel him. He just wants you to be looking at him, he doesnt care how. He’ll be the quickest to figure it out since if you wont give him attention he’ll give you his. He’s constantly reaching out to touch you in some way or form, be it grabbing your ass, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, or curling his wings around you to pull you closer to him, you’ll always know if Hawks is home and where he is since theres always some part of him reaching for you. He’s a weird mix of aware and delusional, he knows he has kidnapped you and you’re unhappy because of it, but part of him also believes he just needs to take good care of you and that you love him anyways. Because of that he’s just constantly trying to please you to try and “make up” for kidnapping you. (He often brushes it off like he got the wrong food or forgot to text you back instead of something more serious)

It’ll happen when you’re standing still, he’ll sneak up behind you, reaching out and squeezing your shoulders, rolling his thumbs across them in a brief massage as he happily opens his mouth to greet you, only to be interrupted by the cutest moan bubbling out of you as you arch your back, pushing into his touch with a soft gasp.

Immediately you’ll find yourself pinned down to the couch or the bed, whichever is closer. Hands will be dragged across your body, desperately repeating that movement and many others, anything to drag those sweet noises you had been hiding from him out. He wont be satisfied until you are near tears, gasping and limp under his touch, having given him all your cute little noises, surrendering yourself fully to him.

Not much will change after that, he is just as clingy and handsy as before, but now he knows all the pretty noises and faces you can make for him, and he practically pounces on you every time he comes home, desperate to hear more.

#yandere #kirishima x reader #kirishima ejirou #reader insert #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #hawks x reader #hawks

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 3 years

Note

Enemies to lovers Eddie Kingston hcs? Please and thank you! :)

Oooh, I like this one! I enjoy enemies to lovers and I can easily see Eddie catching feelings for someone, especially given that they prove they give as good as they get. Yes. Yes please, lemme just attempt this.

Warnings:

Uh, not much, tbh. There might be sexual tension heavily implied. Maybe a few empassioned shoves on readers part, lots of swearing.. But nothing really graphic here tbh.

Tagging:

@writertoo18 @thatnerdwriter @wrestlingismyguiltypleasure @chasingeverybreakingwave @waywardwrestlewritingwaif @sassymox @champbucks @hungmanhorsecarriage @wardl0w @ryantaylorgirl @dilfmoxley @hotyeehawman @darbysallins @gabbynorth98 @bec0m

@linziland13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @daddyslittlevillain

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT PAGE | MASTERLIST | TAG LIST ]

From the word go, you two did not mesh well at all. You were the new interviewer and Eddie was the first person you were to interview. And he spent the entire time sizing you up. Which in turn, pissed you off because you felt as if he were writing you off. And he might have been. When he called you babydoll your thighs clenched AND you had the strong urge to grab hold of his throat and strangle, and if your job weren’t on the line, you might’ve just said to hell with it and done it.

-- He’s not the kind of guy who easily admits when a person just gets to him from the word go and you had. Hence the twenty five pound chip on his shoulder during the interview you two met in. There was just something about you that had him feeling some kind of way. He’d never admit that, of course, because Mr. Tough guy up here doesn’t do feelings well at all... But anyway...

After the initial meeting, he seemed to take joy in crossing paths -and picking fights, but of course, the little shit.. With you. And you gave as good as you got, to your credit. Plenty of shouty shoving matches (on your end of course because while Eddo is a hothead, he wouldn’t shove you. He’d actually prefer not to touch you while you’re angry bc it’s not right for one thing, and another, he’s willing to bet the farm that you got one hell of a mean right hook.) that people yelled at you both to just go fuck already.

-- Granted, that was an.. idea.. that may or may not have been on both your minds. But anytime anyone ever said it to either of you, they were met with either a blank look or a ten minute outburst on why that would NEVER fucking happen.

-- Although, if looks of an argument and sexual tension lingering heavily in the air between two people was anything to go by then whew.. Lawd a mercy, jesus. You two, in the heat of the moment at any given moment, appear ready to tear one another��s clothing off. Jaws clenched so tight as you snap back and forth that it sounds like one or both of you may or may not be growling.

But all that fighting is mentally taxing on a person... especially if maybe.. possibly.. they’re catching feelings. As suddenly as it all started, it kind of just..stopped? Seriously... you and Eddie seemed to keep a wide berth of each other. If you were in a room together alone, one of you always walked out. And this got to you. You felt annoyed. hella angry, because he never even gave a really swaying reason as to why he disliked you and said all the things he said to you over the course, in the first place.

Things came to a head at a random chill out at a bar for drinks after work one night. He was there playing pool with some of his buddies and you were sitting there at the bar, nursing whatever you were drinking, glaring a hole through him. “I don’t fucking get that jerk. I just don’t. He continuously makes my life absolute hell for weeks and now, can’t even fucking look at me. Nope. This is gonna come to an end. I’m not going to just sit back and wait on the damn guy to start his shit all over. Not happening.”

-- Famous last words. You slipped off your seat and walked over to him, tapping his shoulder angrily, because all the way over to him, you were thinking back and damn if that didn’t get you stirred up all over again, the anger as fresh as it had been weeks before.

-- Eddie whirled around, staring down at you and you EXPLODED. Only it wasn’t just anger and vitriol coming out, it was remarks like “Your stupid sexy face, I don’t know whether I wanna... kiss it or punch it.” were slipping out in the heat of the moment. Eddie folds his arms over his chest, letting you dig yourself into your own hole. And when he felt you dug deep enough, he stepped real close. His body brushed right against yours. He was staring down at you with that calm smirk. A hand raised, resting against the wall at your back palm down. His forehead brushed right against yours and he muttered calmly, “You gonna shut your mouth, doll, or am I shuttin it for you?”

-- “I’m nowhere near close to..” the words were stopped by the deepest, most biting, desperate and needy, touch filled and kind of annoyed and or irritated kiss you’d ever been given in your entire life. Your hand started off palm down against the front of his jacket but by the time it broke, it was somehow digging into his shoulder as you melted into him and your tongue battled his in a heated frenzy. When the kiss broke, he stood there, catching his breath, staring down at you. “You done now, doll? Or do I need to do it again, huh?”

You, of course, were entirely too shocked to do anything, but when you got your wits back, you were about to pour your drink on him. His hand caught hold of yours and lowered the glass/cup/bottle as he chuckled. “You’re feisty.. Maybe that’s why I wanted ya so damn bad I couldn’t fuckin think straight.”

“You what now?”

“You heard me. Ain’t repeatin myself.” Eddie shrugged it off as if the admission were nothing but to you, it was everything. After things cooled down just a hair, he came and found you again, getting you outside the bar to actually have a talk. And you two wound up walking around a few city blocks. Stopping at a park to stargaze and the conversation continued. You two were really clicking and it hit you... Neither of you actually hated the other the entire time. You were both just simply too stubborn to admit the real feelings you did have.

#eddie kingston fanfiction #eddie kingston fanfic #eddie kingston headcanons #eddie kingston imagines #eddie kingston imagine #my writing; eddie kingston #my fics; eddie kingston #my headcanons; eddie kingston

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butgilinsky · 4 years

Text

happier // rc

warning; language (i’m convinced i can’t write without swearing), heartache, drinking ig, also not proofread bc i’m lazy

summary; where rafe cameron broke your heart and has to live with consequences of it. based on happier by ed sheeran.

word count; 2.7k+

Walking down 29th and park I saw you in another's arms Only a month we've been apart You look happier

rafe didn’t know the boy’s name, but he didn’t need to. he didn’t want to. the boy’s name didn’t change the fact that he was lifting you off of the ground and running towards the ocean while you playfully begged him to put you down.

he supposed it was better than seeing you with someone he knew, but he knew exactly why you had to rope in someone that didn’t know rafe. everybody that knew he him knew you were off limits. it didn’t matter that the two of you had been broken up for a month, you were his.

well, you were his. you had been his since junior year, when he had walked in to history late and asked if you knew enough of the material for him to cheat off of you. his heart practically soared when you laughed and nodded, choosing to scoot your test to the edge of the desk while you bubbled in answers.

the island had never made rafe feel so lonely. he suspected you to come back with someone eventually, but not this soon. the two of you had gone to different colleges, and the fact that you had a guy on dec for you made rafe feel uneasy.

but no matter how much his stomach twisted from the sight of you in someone else’s arms, he knew that it was good for you. you looked happier.

Saw you walk inside a bar He said something to make you laugh I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours Yeah you look happier, you do

it was easy for rafe to notice the way that topper stilled for a split second, his eyes widening slightly at something behind the cameron boy. he turned over his shoulder, despite topper’s attempt to distract him.

the sight of you made rafe’s heart rate pick up, thumping loudly against his chest. your hand was locked with the same boy he had seen you with back on the island a few weeks prior. the odds of you walking into the same bar as rafe were slim, but the universe had a vendetta against rafe, that was clear to him now.

you walked straight up to the bar, looping your arm around the boy’s neck and pressing your lips to his cheek, a wide smile spreading across both his and your lips at the gesture. rafe’s heart clenched when the boy leaned over to you, lowering his lips to your ear and saying something that had you throwing your head back in laughter.

topper tried, yet again, to distract rafe, but it was useless. he had already seen your bright smile directed at somebody that wasn’t him, and that was enough to send him over the edge.

“she looks happy.” was all he said, swallowing the large lump forming in his throat.

he saw the look kelce and topper shared. he knew his friends were pitying him, but he knew why you were with someone else. he had hurt you, and now he had to live with the image of you kissing someone else engraved into his mind.

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain't nobody love you like I do Promise that I will not take it personal baby If you're moving on with someone new

“i can’t believe you would do that right in front of me, rafe.” the tension hanging in the air was thick, thicker than rafe had wanted it to be. but this was his fault, and your reaction was valid.

“i don’t see what the big deal is, y/n.”

“if i even look at another guy you go absolutely ape shit, but when you’re all over some other girl for the entire night, i’m just supposed to accept that?” rafe rolled his eyes, walking past you and opening his car door.

“i don’t want to do this right now, y/n.” you stood in your place, arms crossed over your chest while you looked at him, gaze steady and harsh. “get in the car.”

“no.” he sighed heavily, turning his command into a question with a false sense of softness behind it. when your answer didn’t change, his attempt at being reasonable flew out the window, and his anger stepped back in.

“why do you have to be so difficult all the time? get in the car.” you shook your head, almost smirking at the sight of rafe getting so angry at the fact that you weren’t doing everything he told you to do.

“no.” he slammed his door shut then, walking back over to you and lifting you off of your feet. “put me down.”

“not a chance.” he practically threw you into the seat after he’d opened the door, shutting it once he made sure you had all of your limbs tucked safely into your seat.

the ride had been silent until the instrumental to your song spilled out of the speakers. the two of you glanced at each other for a moment, sharing a look of regret at the fight you had just had. rafe’s hand slid onto your thigh, gripping it softly between his fingers.

“i’m sorry.” you hummed softly, nodding your head while looking over at him. “i love you.”

you returned the sentiment, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach. you knew something similar would happen eventually. it was only a matter of time before rafe broke your heart all over again.

Cause baby you look happier, you do My friends told me one day I'll feel it too And until then I'll smile to hide the truth But I know I was happier with you

“c’mon, man. you don’t need her.” topper clapped a hand onto the boy’s back, trying to snap him back into the mood to get shit faced in order to take on midsummers.

truth be told, rafe didn’t think there would ever be a time that he wouldn’t be head over heels in love with you. he had made mistakes, things that had been unforgivable, but he had never felt anything less than love for you. the only reason the two fo you fought the way you did was because you didn’t know how to handle the overwhelming amount of emotion you brought one another.

but he forced a smile to the surface anyways, nodding along with topper and accepting a drink from kelce. he threw it back quickly, which made topper and rafe cheer and whistle in salute to him.

once rafe lowered his glass, his eyes found your figure once more. the dress you wore hugged you beautifully, reminding rafe of every curve and bend of your body. he remembered the way his hands felt against your skin every night before bed. the way his hand seemed to fit perfectly on your hip, or the way you would lean into his palm when he held your head in his hands.

it was a dress he’d never seen before. a dress that he wished he’d be able to rip off of you at the night. he saw the zipper on the backside of it, thinking of how he would’ve loved to slowly slide it down, admiring the way your breaths came out in soft pants.

he could imagine the way you’d turn over your shoulder and watch his eyes practically devour you. he wish he could be with you right now, gripping your hips while you tugged on his tie.

but he couldn’t do that, because you weren’t his anymore. you were smiling the same smile that he had fallen in love with all those years ago, but it wasn’t towards him.

you were smiling at somebody that wasn’t him, and he knew that he couldn’t do anything about it.

Sat in the corner of the room Everything's reminding me of you Nursing an empty bottle and telling myself you're happier Aren't you?

it was supposed to get better as time went on. it was supposed to come as easily to rafe as it did with you. he was supposed to get over it, get over you.

but he didn’t. in fact, he found himself sitting in the corner of a room full of people, feeling the most alone he’d ever felt. every thing in the house had reminded him of you, pulling memories out of his subconscious and displaying them at the forefront of his mind.

he had downed more of the bottle than he had even realized, intoxication weighing heavily in his chest while his mind raced through everything it had in your file, tucked neatly into rafe’s mind.

he didn’t know you were there. he hadn’t seen you walk into the house, greeted by the same people you hung out with every time you were back home for the summer. he hadn’t seen or heard you until he ran into you on his way out to his car.

“oh shit, sorry.” you rushed out, unaware of who you had run into until after the apology had fallen from your lips. your eyes softened at the sight of rafe, eyes bloodshot and shoulders slumped in his drunken state.

“don’t worry about it.” he whispered, pushing a soft smile to the surface.

"i should’ve watched where i was going, my fault.” he nodded, unsure of what else to say to you in this situation.

he hadn’t spoken to you in months. not after your screaming match that ended in rafe telling you to ‘get the fuck out’. he rememberd the sound of the door slamming, and your tires screeching against the pavement as you pulled out of the driveway. the same noises he heard every time his mind reminded him how bad he had messed up.

“how are you?” he was surprised you were sparking a conversation with him. he thought you hated him, thought you had given up on all things related to rafe cameron the second you left his house that day.

he didn’t know the half of it.

“as good as i can be, i guess.” he wished he could take the words back as soon as he said them, but the way your smile faltered ever so slightly was enough to tell rafe that you still cared. you didn’t want to see him upset. you wanted him to be happy. “how are you?”

“good.” you nodded, though rafe had detected a tone that didn’t exactly back up your claim. “i’m good.”

were you as happy as rafe assumed you were?

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain't nobody need you like I do I know that there's others that deserve you But my darling I am still in love with you

“rafe, stop!” sarah had been begging for him to stop for the past ten minutes, not knowing what else to do other than watch her brother destroy his bedroom.

picture frames had been shattered, glass scattered across the floor. he had thrown his lamp at a nearby wall, shattering the ceramic base. the room had turned into a hazard quickly, uninviting to anybody that didn’t have shoes on.

he grabbed the next thing he could reach, not taking a moment to look at it or think if it was something that he wanted to keep. he didn’t care about anything in his room right now, his vision blurred by tears and his throat scratchy from screaming at the top of his lungs.

“rafe, don’t throw that. rafe! y/n gave that to you!” rafe stopped then, letting sarah’s words register in his mind.

his arm lowered, eyes locked onto the golf cart in his hand. it had been a joke originally. you thought it was funny that they sold toy golf carts and bought one for rafe as an ‘i saw this and thought of you’ gift.

you didn’t expect him to put it on his nightstand beside a photo of the two of you. his favorite picture of the two of you. it was at midsummers, your head tucked underneath his chin as the two of you swayed back and forth. he was looking down at you with eyes full of adoration and a smile soft enough to make just about anybody’s heart melt.

rafe’s chest caved in then, sobs racking through his body as he fell to his knees, unaware of the pain from glass cutting into his skin. sarah had ran over to him as quickly as she could while simultaneously trying to avoid shards of glass.

“i need her, sarah.” sarah’s heart slammed against her chest at the desperation in his voice. she had never seen rafe like this, and she didn’t know how she was meant to help.

“it’s going to be okay, rafe.”

“no it isn’t sarah. she’s gone. i’m still in love with her and she’s gone.”

Baby you look happier, you do I knew one day you'd fall for someone new But if he breaks your heart like lovers do Just know that I'll be waiting here for you

the constant ache eventually dissipated. there had still been something missing from rafe’s heart, but it didn’t hurt as much. it didn’t pain him to think about you, or see pictures of you online.

however, the sight of you with another person’s arm wrapped securely around you would never get easier.

at the end of the day, rafe knew you looked happy, and that’s all he truly wanted. he had bribed sarah to ask how you truly were, and when she came back with only good news for you and bad news for rafe, he knew he had to let go.

sure, he’d always love you, and he knew there was a part of you that would always love him, but he had to stop living in a world where you’d inevitably fall back into his arms at the first inconvenience in your new relationship.

truth be told, you’d never be able to love a person the same way you loved rafe cameron. things weren’t always pretty, but there ws love behind everything the two of you did. you wouldn’t be able to experience that love with anyone else, and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

there would always be a place for the other in your hearts, and that was exactly why rafe blocked your path on the way to the restrooms on the beach. he had seen you step away from your new beau for the first time all day, and he was going to act on it.

“hi rafe.” you held a smile, and your voice dripped with a knowing tone that made rafe smile back at you.

“hi.” you raised both of your eyebrows at the short answer, expecting him to pour out a long heartfelt speech to you if given the chance. “i just wanted to say hi and make sure you’re doing well.”

you laughed softly and nodded. you were happy but you couldn’t ignore there was a piece of your heart missing. you knew exactly where it was, lodged into the hands of the boy standing mere inches away from you.

“i’m good, rafe, thank you.” he nodded again, surprised you hadn’t tried to walk off yet.

“that’s good, i’m glad to hear that.” you nodded again, about to tell him you should head to the bathroom like you originally had planned before he was speaking again. “i just wanted to let you know that i’m glad to see you happy, it’s nice.”

you were even more confused now, not expecting rafe to say anything nice about the fact that you were with somebody that wasn’t him.

“but, if he ever breaks your heart, just know that i’ll be here, waiting to patch it back up.” he gave you a final smile before walking past you, lightly bumping your shoulder in his stride.

you stood there, left with the confusion of rafe cameron’s words and your feelings. you couldn’t ignore the thud in your chest at the confession, but you also couldn’t ignore the voice in your head that reminded you of how things ended between you and rafe.

were you happier without rafe?

obx taglist: @rafej-cambanks @sportygal55 @diverdcwn @maybankiara @mdlyncline @dpaccione @dontjinx-it @popeheywards @solllaris

#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe x reader #drew starkey #obx #the obx #the outer banks #outer banks #outer banks netflix

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heirloommtomatoes · 4 years

Text

you’re in a car with a beautiful boy

I’m at least 90% sure this ask was not sent with the intent of receiving a fic as a response but. Here we are. This got way longer and more convoluted than I had intended it to be and I’m jus gonna post it at this point bc i’m losing my mind re-reading it jsksk ! The title is from part 24 of Richard Siken’s poem “You Are Jeff”. Perfect poem for their first kiss, I think! Enjoy reading! :)

Warnings: Two instances of canon-typical homophobic language; canon-typical swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k~

The day Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, red-cheeked, out of breath, and wanting, no — “I need to see you” — needing him, Mickey knows he’s done for.

What comes out is: “I thought you were working today.”

Nice, dumbshit, that’s helpful, he registers the thought somewhere in the back of his mind, but mostly he just can’t stop staring at Ian. His eyes flick over his face, and he doesn’t have time to be shocked by how much he cares.

He’s embarrassed to reveal that yes, he did memorize Ian’s work schedule because he was in fact listening to the guy when he was busy running his mouth at the convenience store. Instinctively, he casts a quick glance over his shoulder. He can’t let Terry see this gay shit, Ian all worked up about some mommy issues and Mickey trying in his own way. To do what exactly, he’s still not completely sure. Comfort him, maybe? He doubts his father would clue in, his head’s too far up his homophobic ass for that, but like hell Mickey’s gonna risk it. Nothing’s gonna touch Ian. Fucking ever, if it’s up to him.

“I’ll meet you there in twenty,” Mickey says a short while later. He closes the door and goes back inside to stand around the dining table where Terry was going over some kind of raid or bust or heist while somehow managing to boss Mandy around every other word.

Mickey can’t focus on anything. He’s going to see Ian in twenty minutes. He’s bubbling with palpable excitement and fear and feelings he has no name for. What if Ian wants to talk about everything? Does he smell bad? What could Mickey say so he doesn’t leave? So Ian doesn’t see what a miserable shit he is? He hates Ian fucking Gallagher for making him care about dumb stuff like this, for making him incapable of hearing a word his Dad is saying to him and his brothers, for making him want to do some astronomically stupid thing like kiss him.

“Mickey, why you over there starin’ like some dumb fuckin’ fag?”

He doesn’t work up the courage for over another year.

Mickey slams the door to his room after running errands with Iggy all morning. It smells stale and one of the posters is curling off the wall in the mid-summer humidity. He’d changed his sheets this morning. The same red ones from the day Ian had burst in here like a maniac demanding the gun back. From then on, the two had been inseparable; no matter how hard their South Side circumstances had tried to pry them apart, every time they came back together like magnets.

Mickey knows he can’t really hide from Ian, and it scares him as much as it excites him. Ian reads him like no one ever has. The guy even had the nerve to smile that adorable smile that makes Mickey’s chest tight when he’d told him he’d rip his tongue out back in juvie. For some reason that Mickey cannot begin to fathom, Ian seems to want to spend time with him. Seems to believe in him.

He had thought himself perfectly fine to live a life half-awake, to spend his days either in prison or in the Milkovich household (one in the same, he thinks - except that juvie doesn’t have Terry), probably die by shivs or bullets or fists, and have his body buried in some unmarked grave all before his 50th birthday. Ian had wedged his place in the timeline of Mickey’s life. There was a before, and an after, and neither of them would ever be the same. Mickey pretends that its not this thought that keeps him up at night.

As soon as he realized that Iggy and Colin and Terry looked at girls and actually wanted them, that it wasn’t just some bizarre social act they all bought into, he knew he was fucked for life. His whole existence feels like some grand joke that everyone is in on but him, and when he lays down at night and stares at his ceiling and thinks about Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, he wonders if maybe he was the butt of it all along.

Ian Gallagher, who knew him and wanted him anyway, who took the time to care about him, who sought him out to spend time with him just because he wanted to. When had their ten minute fucks turned into smoke breaks? When had their smoke breaks turned into —

Mickey’s phone dings in his pocket as he sits on the steps of the Milkovich house, a cigarette dangling idly from his mouth.

Ian

what are ur plans today

He swallows his heart back down as it leaps into his throat, almost dizzying him with excitement. Get a grip, you fuckin’ girl. He’d done all that he needed to do for the day. He’d helped Iggy with some errands in the morning and had planned on laying low, playing Halo 3, and chain-smoking his way through a pack until dinner.

He chews on his lip as he considers what to say. He texts back:

Mickey

don’t have any

He wants to say “why, what’s up?”, he wants to say “let’s go to the dugouts”, he wants to say “let’s do something”, “let’s hang out”, “i want to see you”, “i want you”. But he’s not allowed to want things. Certainly not…this. Whatever this is. He receives a response almost immediately and can’t help but crack a fond smile. Someone’s eager.

Ian

come with me to that abandoned building near the L

you know the spot

That’s how Mickey finds himself sitting atop a wooden platform, watching Ian run military drills below at 1 in the afternoon on a Sunday.

He fires his gun into the sky while resolutely pretending not to be checking out the younger boy below.

“Hey,” Ian says, breathing heavily and squinting against the sun and Mickey finds himself realizing he is made of things he cannot ever have, “You know that guy you beat the shit out of at that club?”

Of course Mickey remembers. His stomach flops at the mention of him.

“He wants me to sneak into his mansion and take all of his crap.”

“Really,” Mickey responds dryly, firing off another shot. He doesn’t want Ian to keep talking about him, “Hi-larious.”

“Can’t get it himself,” Ian continues, as if Mickey cares. And the worst part is that he thinks maybe he does — he cares about everything this alien-looking ginger has to say and he hates it and he can never, ever get enough of it, of him, of Ian, “Divorce. Says I can take whatever I want. He’s loaded. You want in?”

Mickey fires shots at the ground by Ian’s head where he’s crawling under some boards. He’s remembering seeing them at that bar in Boystown, out in the heat and in the sun and in public, cracking jokes and living a life Mickey can only watch from behind glass, from behind bars. Fuck that old guy for getting handed on a silver platter what Mickey so desperately craves but cannot have. Not just Ian — freedom. Though Mickey thinks they’re one in the same these days.

“Jesus! Use blanks, maybe?! Fuck.” Ian shouts up at him, dragging himself up off the ground.

“Bring my cousins?” Mickey asks, refusing to look at him. Every time he does he sees them together and wishes that it had been him, sun-drunk and laughing and free by his side.

“Yeah,” Ian shrugs.

“‘Aight, I’m in,” Mickey fires off another shot. He’s angry at Ian for nothing other than exercising his complete right to see other people since they weren’t really together anyway, he’s angry at that old ass man for being able to go out for drinks with him, touch him, kiss him, and most of all he’s angry at himself.

He feels broken for wanting him. He feels broken for not being able to be brave enough to admit that he wants him. He gets cut on his own self-hatred any direction he turns.

“I dunno what you see in that geriatric viagroid,” he says, forcing himself to meet Ian’s gaze, if for a brief moment.

“He buys me stuff, orders me room service,” Ian says nonchalantly, looking up at Mickey. It’s obvious how much he’s been working out. His shoulders are hard and defined, his chest chiseled through the dark green of his military shirt. Mickey feels the familiar sting of contempt rising in his throat and fires off two more shots.

He can’t buy him anything, let alone room service. The fuck kind of response is that? More than anything, it annoys Mickey because he knows it isn’t really true. He’s bullshitting him, and that gets to him more than Ted or Ned or Fred or whatever the hell is name is ever could. He knows he’s not that superficial. Sure, he doesn’t doubt those are nice bonuses, but he knows there’s more to it than that.

He knows Ian. He knows Ian and he wishes that didn’t have to mean he loves him, but it does. He doesn’t understand how anyone could know Ian and not love him. But he’s not quite ready to admit that yet, least of all to himself.

“He isn’t afraid to kiss me,” Ian adds.

Ah. There it is.

His world has become a breathing thing with Ian in it. Before it was stagnant, stale, drowning. It has become a beast with teeth that threatens to tear him from the careful scaffolding he has built around the most fragile parts of his life.

If he kisses him, then everything he fears he is will be true.

Some dumb fuckin’ fag.

So Mickey brings his cousins later that evening and doesn’t stop thinking about Ian’s comment for the rest of the day. The van ride is full of loud music and rolled down windows that let in the warm, fresh summer air, and Iggy and Colin are endlessly bickering and hitting each other in the back of the car.

“Can you assholes quiet down when we get closer? You’re gonna wake up the old lady and everyone else in the goddamn neighbourhood before we even roll in the fuckin’ driveway,” Mickey says, swatting at them from where he’s sitting in the passenger seat. Ian glances his way with an amused smile that Mickey only just catches when he settles back. He grins in return around the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Oh hey, pass one?” Ian asks, holding out his hand. Mickey’s about to give him one before a car speeds around a corner and almost T-bones the side of the van. Ian’s hand snaps back to the wheel to swerve out of the way, and Mickey drops the cigarette to the floor of the van in all the commotion.

“Asshole, watch it!” Ian exclaims as he uselessly flips off the car that’s now long gone down the road. Mickey lets out a guffaw of a laugh and abandons handing him the lost cigarette in favour of placing his own half-smoked one right between Ian’s lips.

The intimacy of the action doesn’t strike him until he’s nudging the cigarette against his mouth and his eyes are tracing the outline of his lips and he can feel the warmth of his breath against his tattooed knuckles. The raw familiarity of the action and the fact that Mickey’s own lips had just been on the cigarette that’s now resting on the edge of Ian’s mouth has his heart racing so quickly he can feel it in his chest like a ton of bricks. Ian casts him a side-glance out of the corner of his eye as he parts his lips to accept it. Mickey takes his hand away and clears his throat, glancing at the rear-view mirror to an oblivious Colin and Iggy.

“Thanks,” Ian mumbles, remembering himself as he snaps out of whatever it had been that passed between them just now.

Mickey wants to kiss him. He really, really wants to kiss him. He’d tried fucking girls and had been less turned on than he was just now doing nothing other than placing his cigarette in Ian’s mouth.

Ian pulls into the drive minutes later, cigarette since burned through and discarded out the window. Mickey tries not to feel the absence of it as though it were his own lips against his and not just the ghost of them stained onto the cigarette.

Colin drags open the side door and hops out with Iggy, zipping open a duffel bag full of guns. Mickey’s grateful for the distraction, for the absolute focus violence requires that he hopes will shove his desire to do something as stupid as kiss Ian out of his head.

“Hey! Whoa, guys, guys! No fucking guns, alright? It’s just a drunk old lady in there,” Ian says, brow furrowed as he looks at Mickey.

Trust Gallagher to be the defender of drunk old ladies. Mickey bites at his lip, trying and failing to ignore the way his chest swells with adoration at Ian’s request. Soft motherfucker. He’s right, though — any unnecessary violence and this could be a way bigger deal than it needs to be. Plus, he’d rather not piss off his only and best friend. He grabs the guns back from his cousins, much to their disappointment, and makes off toward the house.

He hadn’t woken up this morning thinking that today would be the day he’d kiss Ian. Hell, even now he’s sure that if he thinks about it any more he’ll chicken out and never kiss him at all. Mickey Milkovich, with the F-U-C-K U-U-P knuckles, who wears dirt and a scowl like they’re permanent accessories, is going to kiss Ian Gallagher, the freckled boy who protects drunk old ladies and smiles at him like he hangs the damn stars. He figures he was about to storm into an old lady’s house brandishing firearms without second thought or fright. Is kissing someone really that much more terrifying?

Abso-fuckin-lutely.

But there’s nothing between them but the van and Mickey’s fear. And fuck the fear. Fuck it.

He can pretend that he kisses him for no other reason than to prove a point, than to fulfill some implied dare.

At the end of the day, he kisses him because he wants to.

He kisses him because he likes him.

He kisses him because he loves him.

Mickey’s heart is racing so badly he feels that he might throw up and well, what an impression that would leave. Every part of him is shaking as he turns and takes one step, two steps, pulls himself into the van and…

His lips are against Ian’s. They’re so much softer than he’d imagined (and he had imagined, often) and warm and Mickey can feel the breath from his nose against his own face. He tastes like smoke and freedom and something sweet Mickey can’t place -- a fucking Snickers bar? -- but loves the taste of anyway.

His brain short-circuits. He lingers longer than he had intended to, but it’s real and it’s better than he ever thought it could be. He’d kissed Sarah Perkins on a dare back in 7th grade and he’d gargled vodka afterwards to wash his mouth out.

He’d thought himself broken for it just not feeling right. But this…this feels right. Ian makes him feel right. He had expected, hoped even maybe, that it would feel wrong. That he would kiss him and feel as though he had done something terrible, something worse than stealing from an old lady’s home, but if it does he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

On his tongue, in his touch, with his laugh, Ian has given him the vocabulary to understand himself. To put a name to feelings mostly only understood in the illuminating glory of hindsight.

He’s spent his whole life outside of himself. Is this what it is to know yourself? Is this what it is for everything to suddenly make sense? He isn’t allowed soft things. He isn’t allowed this.

But here he is anyway.

And the world spins on.

He wants to kiss him again and again and again but he remembers his cousins in the house and what he suspects was probably less than five seconds feels like an eternity and Ian’s lips are starting to respond and move and is that his hand starting to lift to touch him? oh shit what if they come back to get him and this is what they walk in on and --

He pulls back and retreats as quickly as he’d arrived, throwing up a middle finger at Ian. Afraid to kiss him, Mickey’s ass.

Fuck he thinks as he runs back to the house, and can’t think much else but fuckfuckfuck, every inch of him charged and shaking and electric.

“Forgot somethin’,” he says breathlessly to the two boys who are, as it turns out, barely paying him any mind as they bicker between themselves about how they’re going to manage picking up a cabinet heavier than the two of them combined. Mickey’s not listening to them as they end up dropping it to split up and tackle smaller bait.

He grins wickedly to himself. He did it. Mickey goddamn Milkovich made a choice that wasn’t about pain or hurt or violence. He’d made a choice that was his and his alone and it was soft. Mickey Milkovich could choose to be soft, and gentle, and maybe even caring.

And if he can kiss Ian Gallagher? He can do anything.

#reposting this in a better format i think #gallavich #gallavich fic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #why is read more not working brruhhh this is so long im sorry #IS it working??? idk #if it isnt #sorry!!!!#my bOYS~!!!!#my writing

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sicjimin · 3 years

Text

A.N : another spontaneous nonsense at 1am bc im scared to sleep again lol .. im sorry for posting ab mpreg again . might regret this post in the morning :D

TW : emeto, mpreg

Jimin pants heavily, his breathe trickling against the calm water below him. He squeezes his eyes shut as he's riding the sloshing in his stomach. Nausea that has been bugging him since the moment he wakes up, becomes overwhelming now. He spits the thick saliva that dangling on his lips, before brushing his hair back and lean tiredly on the toilet seat. He slips one of his hands under Yoongi's sweater that has been his since their early relationships, rubbing a circle pattern against it. It's comforting, almost calming, if it wasn't for the fact that nausea has been getting worse. He groans, propping himself back facing the bowl, his hand brushing his black hair back as it has been growing longer, before a gag leaves his mouth, followed by another. His hands are starting to tremble as his stomach continues to roil and churn.

"Uuurrkk-", Jimin jolts forward as his stomach clenches. Warm chunky liquid sliding up from his throat and splashing loudly to the bowl. The sound is loud and clear as Jimin retches again.

Tears spring out of his eyes, and Jimin can feel his whole body shaking. His eyes flutter shut again as he grips onto the edge of the toilet seat tightly, steadying himself as his body keep heaving more and more of his dinner last night down to the toilet. The sickly sweet smell of vomit hitting his nose and Jimin gags again.

He coughs, spitting into the toilet when he feels there's nothing more to bring. Jimin leans over the side of the toilet seat, wipes away his sweat from his forehead with his sleeve as a wave of dizziness takes over his body. He flushes the toilet, grimace when he sees it filled with brown half-disgested food. The sight making his stomach twist. He closes his eyes, resting his head on the toilet seat, breathing deeply as he tries his hardest not to throw up again.

Jimin groans when he feels his phone vibrates in his pocket. The familiar ringtone filling the silent bathroom.

"Yoongi-hyung calling..."

Jimin slides the phone button.

"Hello, Jimin-ah?"

"Hm...Hyung" Jimin hums softly.

"Is everything alright? You sound really weak.." Yoongi asks concerned.

Jimin sniffles, trying to keep his sobs at bay. His hand rests on his stomach, rubbing it soothingly. He could feel newfound nausea pooling there.

"I just puked" Jimin mumbles.

"Is it your morning sickness again?" Yoongi asks worriedly.

"I don't know .. maybe. I woke up already feeling nauseous. I was trying to make breakfast but— ", Jimin pauses as another wave of nausea hits him, "—oh my god, wait hyung"

Jimin scrambles back to the toilet, not registering Yoongi that frantically asking from the other side as he burp out water. Another wave follows after as Jimin hurls once more. Tears stream down his cheeks while he gasps for air.

He feels like crap.

"Jimin-ah? Are you sick again?", Yoongi asks through the phone, worry evident in his tone.

"Nn... Uuurrkk-" Jimin tries to say but another wave of nausea hits him. He doubles over once more.

"I'm coming home"

"What? No!", Jimin chokes out when his stomach stops clenching. He could faintly hear shuffling in the background and Yoongi talking to someone.

" Hyung, you dont need to come, i will be fine", Jimin says as he flushes his vomit. Lifting himself from the floor and rinse his mouth. He's sure he's already empty and won't throw anything up, at least for the few hours.

"Yeah, well i'm leaving anyway". Yoongi answers.

"But hyung! I'll be fine!" Jimin cries.

"No, see you!"

Yoongi hangs up on Jimin and Jimin stares at the blank screen for a moment, before placing the phone down and leaning against the sink, sighing. But he can help a tug on his corner lips, knowing that his boyfriend gonna come home soon.

Jimin turns off the tap and walks back to the bedroom, curling himself small under the covers.

🥟 🥟 🥟

Yoongi pulls into the driveway and parks his car. Shuffling his feet to their apartment door and push the code. 9395, before it beep and opened.

"Jimin-ah?", Yoongi calls out.

He walks further into their apartment, looking around until his gaze lands on his boyfriend, lying curled up in bed. Yoongi sighs, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He kneels beside Jimin, taking the younger features. His cheeks flushed, and there are tears stained. Yoongi shakes his head, pulling back a strand of Jimin's hair.

"Hey wake up", Yoongi whispers gently and Jimin groans. "Come on"

Jimin sits up, wiping his eyes before sitting beside him and leaning into Yoongi's side, snuggling close to his chest. "Hyung" he whines. Yoongi runs a hand through Jimin's hair, "How are you feeling?"

"Nauseous", Jimin replies, sniffling. Yoongi nods.

"Have you eat anything?"

"No, i'm afraid i will throw it back up. I don't want to throw up again", Jimin admits, voice raspy and husky. Yoongi purses his lips, looking down as his thumb smooths across Jimin's cheek, before Jimin looks up at him, smiling weakly. Yoongi chuckles.

"But you need to eat baby, you had another person to feed now"

Jimin pouts.

"What if i cook for you? What do you want?" Yoongi asks. Jimin shrugs, "Anything. Really, but maybe something light. I don't know if i can handle rice"

Yoongi nods, offering his palm for Jimin to takes as they head downstairs. Jimin sits on the stool, resting his head on his palms as he watched Yoongi moved swiftly into the kitchen. Light conversation falls between them, mostly from Yoongi, as he's the one that goes out and interacting with people today. Jimin hums, giving in response once in a while.

"Here, eat up"

Yoongi tells him, placing a plate with some rice, and some broth on the counter in front of him. Jimin peeks up, seeing the steaming hot meal on the counter and smiles, before reaching out to take a bite. A sigh slipping past his lips. Yoongi laughs lightly before kissing Jimin's forehead lightly.

"Is it okay?" Yoongi asks, Jimin nods quietly, swallowing a piece of meat in his mouth. He hums appreciatively. Yoongi smiles.

After about ten minutes, Jimin was already more than halfway through the soup, that his stomach decided to churn again. He quickly puts his chopsticks down, his hand going straight to his stomach, fingers squeezing it in an attempt to hold back the sickness he feels rising up. Yoongi notices Jimin's tensed posture and quickly comes towards him.

"Are you feeling sick again?" He asks.

"Yes, a little..." Jimin replies.

Yoongi frowns, pulling the bowl out and grabbing Jimin's arm, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. He moves his hand to cover the top of Jimin's belly. "Are you gonna have another round?"

Jimin nods, biting his lip. "I think .. i don't know. I hope this one is just a fluke", he grunts, holding his stomach.

Yoongi stands up, offering him a glass of water, " Here, drink it". Jimin takes the glass carefully, sipping at it slowly to give himself a chance to get used to it, to ease up his stomach and nausea. He sets it down again, staring at it and sighing heavily. He leans his forehead against Yoongi's crook. "I don't feel good"

"Hmm, i know", Yoongi murmurs. "You wanna lie down?"

Jimin shakes his head no, scrunched his face when a wave of nausea hits him, "It will make me more—", a burp escaped his lips, "—nauseous" he finishes.

Yoongi frowns, wrapping his arms tightly around Jimin. Pulling him close, resting his chin on the boy's head.

"Okay..."

They stay like that for a minute, only their steady breathing that could be heard, as Jimin is way too busy to keep his food down and Yoongi is busy rubbing his boyfriend tummy, giving it as much comfort as he can, hoping that the warmth from his palm could at least help.

"Hyung", Jimin breaks the silence between them, shifting uncomfortably on his seat. His hand pressing his lips to a thin line.

"...what is it?"

Jimin exhales deeply. "I want to puke, i don't think i can hold it anymore", he mumbles.

"Oh shit"

"I think i might throw up, now" Jimin adds. He doesn't feel any better yet. He wants to cry. The feeling of wanting to be sick still lingers inside of him and every time he thinks about it, he gets a horrible taste in his mouth.

"Do you want me to go grab you something to throw up in?", Yoongi worriedly asks. Jimin shakes his head.

"Bathroom .. please .. ", he decides.

As he gets up, nausea hits him once more. He clutches onto the counter in an attempt to remain upright. Yoongi rushes by him, helping him to stay upright, " Slowly baby"

Jimin swallows hard, nodding. He slowly makes his way towards the bathroom, his steps slow and sluggish. Yoongi's hands linger around his waist, keeping him stable and safe.

It was only few steps left, or to be frank, they have already reached the bathroom door, when Jimin's stomach lets go. The sound of gag and chunky liquid splatters against the floor echoing throughout the hallway. Yoongi rubs soothing circles into his lower back, supporting his weight. Jimin was sure he heard Yoongi gasps and curses under his breath, but he didn't have time to ponder in it as his stomach let go of another stream rushing on his mouth, adding to the puddle below him.

Yoongi pulls himself back a little, avoiding it getting on his feet as Jimin bends forward further with heave, his face scrunching into a grimace. Yoongi rubs soft circles into Jimins shoulder and backs away as Jimin stands upright again. The boys face flushed red and sweaty.

"Fuck..", Jimin whispers, looking at the puddle of his food that lay on the floor.

"Shit, Jiminie, what happened?" Yoongi asks, worry lacing his tone.

"I dont know.." Jimin says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry hyung, i didn't mean to make a mess ... ", he whimpers as tears start stinging on the back of his eyes.

Yoongi reaches for his hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

"It's fine baby, its alright. It is just vomit"

Jimin huffs and wipes tears that managed to escaped, "Still..",

"Baby stop worrying about it so much. Come sit down", Yoongi says, leading Jimin to sit on the toilet lid. Jimin lets out a small sob, hiding his face against Yoongi's chest.

Yoongi strokes circles in his hair, running a hand up and down his spine, trying to help calm him down.

" Hyung .. i'm sorry", Jimin sobs.

Yoongi chuckles lightly, "Why are you apologizing?"

Jimin looks up at Yoongi. He sniffled.

"You're feel sick, and that's fine", Yoongi coos. "Now, are you feeling better or ...?"

Jimin shakes his head, "No .. i think i'm gonna puke again", he huffs, " 'm still queasy"

Yoongi nods understandingly and guided the younger in front of the toilet, lifting up the seat, "Let it out until you feel better", he suggests, rubbing Jimin's arm gently. Jimin nods, leaning over the toilet as Yoongi holds his hair up. Jimin throws up for a good five minutes after that, letting out everything he just ate,including Yoongi's soup that now floating on the toilet bowl.

" Okay .. i think i'm done hyung ..", Jimin coughs out weakly, his stomach still aching and his throat dry. He rests his forehead against the toilet bowl.

Yoongi rubs his back, "You're doing great, sweetheart", he murmurs. "Do you feel dizzy, or anything?"

"A little.."

"Okay. lets get you clean up. I will clean the ...", Yoongi trails off at the hallway that still had vomit. Jimin follows his gaze, almost gagging at the sight. " I can help you clean that hyung .. i'm sorry"

Yoongi flicks his forehead, "Stop saying sorry. And no, you're not helping anything. I won't risk you throwing up again because of that. Just clean yourself up, okay? So we can rest after that", he rambles. Jimin nods softly.

"You're not mad?" He asks, a bit hesitant.

Yoongi shakes his head smiling at him lovingly. "When i can ever get mad at you, hm? Stop making your brain working too hard, Jimin-ah"

Jimin's cheeks turn bright red, a smile forming on his lips unconsciously. Yoongi laughs, reaching to ruffle his hair before guiding him to stand up and clean himself.

"I bring you tea, and crackers. Eat that when you feel like it, okay? I hope our little one could accept this", Yoongi says as he trudges into their bedroom. Jimin peek in from the blanket, watching as Yoongi puts the tray on the nightstand before the older scoots at the empty side beside him. Jimin immediately curled himself against the older, sighing contently when Yoongi starts playing with his hair.

Yoongi places a gentle kiss on Jimin's temples, "You should sleep now", he murmurs. " Our baby there has been tiring you out"

Jimin nods sleepily against him, closing his eyes. "Yeah they are .. thank you hyung", he hums.

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #caretaker!yoongi #sick!jimin #and again another mpreg fic

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sinkix · 4 years

Text

《What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Nekoma Edition》

Yo-hoo! Here’s another part to this potential(?) series! I hope you enjoy the possible call-outs in some of these lmao. Writers block been kicking my ass recently but I had a lot of fun writing these. Enjoy <3

You can find the Karasuno ver. here

✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧

Kuroo:

Have a hand fetish and will not say no to choking.

Daddy kink™

Will not accept anything below 6 inches.

More of a dog person but would love to own a black cat.

You drool over tattoos.

Your grades are mostly B’s but you know in your heart you deserve that A, and tbh you probably do. Chase ur goals bby.

Halloween is likely your favourite holiday.

You have to resist not to carve a dick into the pumpkin EvEry GodDAmN YeAr.

You either study for 6 hours consecutively or cannot study at all and you get very frustrated at this.

Have the potential to be a good leader and command the room but probably don’t put it to use as much as you should.

Your playlist parkours from sad 3am crying into your pillow songs to aggressive punk music you could rob a store to.

You like bad boys who hang around bars and look like they would put out a cigarette on your forearm and call you a slut. Just stating facts sweaty xoxo.

Either dress very feminine and girly with a ‘smol girl uwu’ aesthetic or a hardass punk who would kick your ass for a can of beer no in between and tbh both are equally hot.

You’re a big softie at heart either way and just want to be held and told everything will be okay.

Ur a hoe for when people stroke your hair or caress your chin it’s your ultimate weakness.

Watched Rick & Morty.

Twice.

Sleeves rolled up veiny forearms and donning a silver watch are your muse and something you fantasise about frequently.

Most of your memes are shitty top text bottom texts that are somehow funny and I don’t understand why lmao.

You call someone ‘bro’ even if it’s someone you’re immensely attracted to.

Did someone say ties? No it’s just ur dirty ass thoughts thinking about that hot business dudes attire from across the street and how you wish they were tied around ur wrists.

Probably had a crush on Jeff the Killer as a tween and are relentlessly haunted by your old Wattpad library.

Tbh any dark-haired dude with bedhead that screams rugged and probably not good for you is something that draws you like a moth to a flame.

You often question why every person you’ve fallen for has been a Scorpio and curse that tendency of yours.

Dw man they’re hot so I feel u.

Kenma:

Went through a ‘I’m not like other __’ phase and it’s something that you think about a lot and wish you didn’t.

Watched dan & phil as a kid.

Any mention of Pokemon has you turning into a rabid beast you get way too excited.

It’s cute though dw bby.

Pretty antisocial but interesting to talk to.

Your family often question how you’re able to sleep in till 3pm and judge you heavily for it.

Nocturnal night owl gang rise up.

Frequently have bags under your eyes but somehow manage to pull it off.

Listen to ASMR on the down-low and will never admit it to a single soul.

Frequently go on BL binges and have many related book marks.

You pray that someone will never find your laptop bc holy fuck the amount of smut on that.

You wear scarves & beanies even when it isn’t that cold outside.

100% went through a scene hair phase/attempted to.

You dye your hair a lot or REALLY want to.

You have a voice kink low-key so anyone with a pleasant/soothing sounding voice just gets u goin’.

Cats are your favourite animal and you either do or want to own several.

Would name them after video game/anime characters u fuckin nerd lol.

Speaking of cats ,you fantasise heavily about cat-boys and have a folder dedicated to them.

Oversized hoodies are your vibe and always ball the sleeve hems in your fist as a comfort mechanism.

Shopping centres are your worst nightmare and trigger your claustrophobia or social anxiety and honestly I feel that spiritually.

Have a cute sticky note collection.

You like a lot of music consisting of guitar and slow/soothing beats.

You also fw EDM/ techno on occasions.

Honestly wouldn’t wanna anger you since you have a seething temper when pushed far enough.

It’s the kinda temper that’s eerily quiet but no less terrifying, like the other person can tell you are graphically plotting their demise.

You love sleeping to the sound of rainfall and often play those nature ambience videos while you sleep.

Never tidy your sheets and it’s just a big scrunched up heap of fabric in the centre of your mattress most of the time.

Make your fucking bed.

Lev:

Your ships are chaotic and shamelessly controversial.

Would do something just for the sake of creating mayhem lmao.

You were the fucker who stuck their chewing gum under the desk, I see you.

Your brain never stops whirring it’s a constant hurricane of crackhead energy and you have no idea how to turn it off.

Would eat a stick of pencil lead for $2

You don’t help your situation with the amount of coffee/energy drinks you consume.

The class clown who cries themselves to sleep.

Such a wholesome dumbass but somehow kinda intimidating???

Even if you’re not confident you can do something you’ll try anyway and honestly I respect that about you.

You !! use!!! a lot??!! of!! random punctuation!!! so you always??!?!? seem!!111!! excited!!!!!11!?

Every time you’ve ever tried to make a sandcastle it has failed.

You tried to eat the sand once but we don’t talk bout that.

You would also pick up slugs and snails and chase your friends around with them.

Can never tell whether people are laughing with you or at you and while you don’t let it show it high-key bothers you when you’re laying alone in your room at night.

Not one to hold grudges, you carry a ‘shit happens’ mentality which is v good but it sometimes leads to people taking advantage of it or walking all over you.

Your meme collection is both questionable and horrifying.

Like how many cursed images and heavily distorted pictures does one person need.

Never organise the files on your PC/laptop so it looks like a complete dumpster fire.

The one at sleepovers who persistently woke everyone else up with their snickering and refusal to sleep till dawn.

For the love of Asahi charge your damn phone.

I see that red bar and ‘12%’

Charge it now.

Bought a plant one time, gave it a name and talked to it frequently.

It died not long after bc u forgot to fucking water it.

No one better ever make you responsible for a pet.

Type of person that when someone asks you to tag along on an endeavour no matter how stupid it is you will agree.

2am skydiving in france? hell yeah.

Midnight shopping spree and spending over half your pay check? count you in.

Exploring an abandoned hospital and performing an Ouija board to summon the demons of hell? you’re damn right you’ll be there.

I hope you have a mum friend by your side bc if not how are you still alive.

You sometimes put the milk in before the cereal and it’s something I’ll never forgive you for.

Yaku:

Very responsible and usually make the right decisions.

You do have moments where you act like a complete dumbass though.

Like u go from 50 year old to 5 year old in the blink of an eye.

A hopeless romantic but it’s a side you don’t often reveal.

Prefer strawberry milk over any other flavour.

You’re the type of person to shower twice a day w/o fail.

Where that stank smell coming from? Not you clearly bc your skin is basically 90% The Body Shop’s rose scented soap at this point.

You get stomach aches a lot and you can’t figure out why.

Probably an allergy to everyone’s bs.

Really good at dirty talk even though you don’t seem the type so people are always taken aback.

You have to be really in the mood though otherwise it falls flatter than Oikawa’s ass, use your skill wisely.

You often call people clowns when you know you’re secretly the biggest one going.

Honk honk, hoe.

You send messages in one paragraph rather than multiple texts unless you are REALLY excited.

People underestimate you at times then are shocked when they realise you are capable of being a fire-breathing dragon from the flaming pits of hell.

You like spicy chicken wings.

Such a petty little shit at times lmao.

Enjoy the view from the top of mountains so you either hike a lot or really want to.

Way more of a cat person since it’s just much more convenient for you.

Usually pretty cheerful or calm and people are drawn to your stable/friendly aura.

Went through a phase of drinking mountain dew and your body still feels the awful effects

Fav element is probably air.

You’re 5′6″ or shorter.

Box dyed your hair brunette several times and can never get the pigment out to this day.

Yamamoto:

Whenever you smell something weird in the room you always internally freak out and think it’s you.

Head-butting walls is your hobby.

You fell off your bike as a kid and still have the scar on your knee.

Probably have tons of ear piercings.

Would tame a pigeon and call it Larry.

You get frequent nosebleeds and can never tell if it’s a medical issue or your extreme simping for fictional men/women.

Hopefully the latter.

You constantly chew your pen/pencil in class so you never lend them to anyone out of embarrassment.

I really hope no one ever lends you stationery bc 30 minutes later it’ll look like it was mauled by a rabid rottweiler.

You really want to own a dog and would call it something intimidating like Banshee or Diablo.

You bleached your hair that one time and it almost fell out so now you’re forced to stay at least 10 metres away from all at-home hair dye products.

You tried your best though bby so A for effort, even if it did look like dehydrated ramen afterwards.

Your grades are mostly C’s and you’re barely passing bc you just don’t care about your classes lol.

Still though you’re actually pretty smart so put it to good use you lazy oaf, channel that crackhead energy into something good.

Your phone screen has several cracks in it from when you dropped it on the bathroom floor while shitting and you’ll always be angry at yourself for that.

You have some really weird quirks but you make it work.

Actually a v chill person but you just kinda attract chaos/trouble wherever you go.

Carry a lighter with you even when you don’t need one.

Shy texter but once people see you irl you are the complete opposite, you just dk how to text without coming across as awkward.

One of those people that’s unintentionally funny and always get confused when you make someone laugh but it makes you feel good regardless.

Have a cool necklace collection and own at least one dog-tag/army style pendant.

Should really consider buying a rabbit you would look so cute w/ one.

You have really nice legs and people should compliment them more.

Either severely dehydrated or overly hydrated to the point you are peeing pure tap water so for the love of god please learn moderation, your kidneys and bladder will thank you for it.

Inuoka:

Your favourite character would be Hinata but you like people taller than you so your love for Inuoka spawned.

You really enjoy using the double spiderman meme.

Cannot correctly verbalise your feelings without creating a minimum of 10 misunderstandings but once people are used to it it’s kinda endearing.

You usually wake up in a good mood and people can never fathom how or why.

You either stay up till 5am or you wake up at that time no in between.

A morning person bc you love the sunrise.

Change your lock-screen very regularly bc you get bored.

Your humour consists solely of poop jokes.

When you don’t understand a joke you laugh anyway and hope they don’t ask you if you actually get it.

Happened once and you’re still traumatised from the cricket silence that fell upon the room.

Really like the taste of lemonade and drink it more often than you should.

Often think about what you would look like with a shaved head.

More of an extrovert but def have occasional introvert tendencies where you wanna be left tf alone.

Never allowed to pick up anything in stores bc the last time you did you sniffed a scented candle and it shattered to the floor.

Constantly have spontaneous ideas of what to change about your appearance.

You use a lot of hand gestures like thumbs up and peace signs.

‘Dude’ and ‘lmao’ is 90% of your vernacular.

Your nails are a disaster, some are down to the nub while others are pretty grown out bc you only bite a select few please sort it out.

Look really good in red.

Your laptop has way too many tabs open from random google searches of words you didn’t know the meaning to.

You read a lot of books but for like 10 minutes at a time bc you have the attention span of a walnut.

You are the type of person to nuke your AO3 tags with things that aren’t even relevant purely bc you found them funny.

Your Tumblr drafts are a nightmare, you have like 100+ in the works yet keep starting new projects why do you do this.

Happy sunshine but you have a LOT of mood swings like that shit comes out of nowhere.

Cry pretty often but no one ever sees and it’s usually because of said mood swings.

You always smile and pick yourself up again though which I commend you for.

TYPES IN CAPITALS IN SITUATIONS THAT DO NOT REQUIRE SAID PUNCTUATION SO YOU SEEM LIKE YOU’RE YELLING ALL THE TIME.

#hq #haikyuu #nekoma #yaku morisuke #lev haiba #yamamoto taketora #kuroo testuro #kenma kozume #inuoka sou

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