#on a heavier note. if anybody EVER refers to whats going on right now as something “political” and not genocide. beat the fuck outta them

[dailykugisaki]

Day 130 | id in alt

I have no idea how Fushiguro dosent stumble over himself and so I made him do it.

Also Kugisaki I saw her run fast as hell girl was basically skipping.

#dailykugisaki #jjk #kugisaki nobara #fushiguro megumi #inumaki toge #Inumaki watching Fushiguro eat shit is funny as hell to specifically me #i have two nice ideas simmering rn #on a heavier note. if anybody EVER refers to whats going on right now as something “political” and not genocide. beat the fuck outta them #privileged assholes are showing themselves more frequently like worms after fresh rain its abysmal #now thats done with #I PERSONALLY THINK KUGISAKI IS PRETTY DAMN FAST #Fushiguro is not he enhances his speed and friction with the ground via shadows thats why he kinda does that #Kugisaki is fast as fuck based on pure spite and hatred for being spun around like a toy #She'll kill panda for that trust me. punt him like a damn football #shes extremely good at manipulating cursed energy its fucking canon so i imagine she knows how to like course that shit through her body ex #ez* #not a master but the best one outta.... basically all the students(not including the third years bc idk where to put them) low-key #she knows her shit #im tired of people saying she dosent know her shit she DOES #She is able to fucking float her nails! i aint seen anybody else float shit on will other than gojo bitch!! SHE IS HER #gojo i know you said Itadori was supposed to be one of those students to surpass you but look at Kugisaki im begging your white haired ass #ive made two au's and man making Kugisaki a witch and Maki an elderitch god and gojo a weird ass vessel n shit #and then the other au is Kugisaki as a fucked up robot and Maki as an angeo of judgement what the fuck am i cooking #bucket is fucking tweaking

[patchwork-panda]

“I won’t tell a soul” (BSD Nakahara Chuuya x Reader #3. Complete!)

“Title: “I won’t tell anybody”/“誰にも言わない”  Genre: Romance Rating: PG-13 for alcohol usage and mild violence/language and a kiss scene. /////>w<;; Reader-insert is written as femme and 20+ Plot: You meet Chuuya at a wine bar and over time, you become close. Your regular meetings become something you both enjoy so when Chuuya stops visiting for several weeks, you begin to worry... When you meet again, you learn the truth... But do you care? Mini Fic is written in 2nd person. title is reference to new Utada Hikaru single                 

CW: street harassment, physical violence

AKA Chuuya saves reader and you get a kiss/get together :3

AO3 link for full fic: HERE

Part 1 Here Part 2 Here                                        

It’s well past last call when you leave. 

You ended up staying until past closing and, perhaps out of a feeling of guilt, the mustachioed bartender decided not to kick you out.

Because his “feeling” had been wrong.

Chuuya hadn’t come.

The bartender had offered to call you a cab but you adamantly refused. You wanted a nice long walk in the cool night air, which would hopefully clear your senses a little. You don’t want to go to bed tonight thinking about Chuuya or you might just wake up crying.

Because this was the last night.

No more.

You needed to move on.

As you leave the bar, you see a group of men, a bunch of hoodlums by the look of it, gathered near the alleyway to your far right. One or two of them give you an appraising look (you wish your skirt were longer but you make no move to tug it down) and to your disgust, another whispers something into the ear of yet another of their companions, who suddenly leers at you.

Ugh.

You keep your eyes trained on the road ahead of you as you walk past them, hoping to get away with nothing more than a wolf whistle but alas, it is not to be. One of them, a man with a scar over his eye, calls out to you.

“Hey, hey you! Lady!”

You roll your eyes and ignore him. You hated running into creeps like this in the daytime as it was. Nighttime is so much worse.

Not to be deterred, he runs after you and stops and slows once he’s caught up.

“Haven’t we seen you before?” he asks, looking you up and down. You suddenly regret wearing heels. You don’t answer but he acts as if you have.

“Yeah, I remember you. You’re here at that bar every Friday, aren’t you? Always sitting there at the counter with that short fellow, the one with the fancy hat and the jacket draped over his shoulders. Chuuya-san, you called him, right?”

You keep walking and scowl when Chuuya’s name crosses his lips. Scum like this shouldn’t have the right to talk about Chuuya like that, much less exist in the same world as him. And how dare this man call Chuuya short when he wasn’t more than a few centimeters taller than either of you.

“Hey, Missy.”

He grabs your shoulder. His tone is suddenly menacing.

“I’m talking to you here.”

“Let go of me!” you snap, tearing your shoulder away.

You turn to walk in the opposite direction but his companions are blocking the way back. In fact, they’re blocking every possible escape route you have. You spin around in a circle, only to come face to face with the man who insists on speaking with you. He smiles and you curse.

“Shit...”

He raises his scarred eyebrow. He looks amused.

“There’s no need for language like that, Missy,” he says, his tone every bit as patronizing as it is threatening. “We just want to talk to you. You see, we’re looking for ‘Chuuya-san.’ Been looking for him, in fact, for a long, long time now and we’re hoping that you can maybe help us find him. You see, we owe him a favor...”

“Well, you’re talking to the wrong person,” you spit acidly, “I haven’t seen him for several months now and even if I wanted to help you find him--which I don’t--”

You voice cracks and you swallow heavily. You hate that you’ve become so upset but that’s what the mere mention of Chuuya’s name did to you tonight. You were really hoping the bartender was right and you were absolutely crushed when he wasn’t.

“I don’t even have his phone number.”

You throw your hands up into the air, as if to indicate that you’d given up. 

“So why don’t you just let me go home and we’ll forget that this whole conversation ever happened?”

The man looks at you. Stunned. Then he starts laughing.

As one, his crew starts laughing at you as well and you feel your cheeks flush in sudden rage and embarrassment.

“Look at that, she just ordered me around, didn’t she?” the man chortles, turning to his companions as if he’d just told a very funny joke. “A real spitfire, aren’t you? And a looker to boot! No wonder he spends so much time with you.”

He snaps his fingers and at once, two of his men come forward and seize you by the arms. You try to fight them off but their arms are twice as thick as yours and you’re still a little tipsy from the wine.

“Why don’t you come with us, little Missy? We’d like to have a chat with you.”

“Hey!” you snap, “Get your hands off me!”

“See, your friend, Chuuya-san,” the man says, a note of humor sneaking into his voice as he copies the way you say Chuuya’s name. “He and that pesky Port Mafia he works for... have been making things difficult for us smaller gangs in Yokohama.”

His eyes narrow.

“Unnecessarily so.”

They start dragging you away. Your efforts to fight back seem meaningless. Panic rises in your throat. You should’ve taken the bartender’s offer of hailing a cab.

“Hey! Hey!!”

You struggle and fight harder but it’s no use.

“And our boss gets the feeling they’re going to be a lot more willing to negotiate with us,” the man continues, following you as you’re pulled backwards by the arms. “If we have a proper bargaining chip.”

His lip curls into that disgusting leer.

“Especially that midget. Can’t wait to see his face after he sees you missing a few fingers.”

You stiffen. Your eyes narrow.

“You asshole...” you growl.

You shoot him a piercing glare.

How dare he talk about Chuuya--your Chuuya--like that. 

“Keep Chuuya’s name out of your fucking mouth,” you spit, “you piece of shit--”

He silences you with a slap across the face and you stumble. The men behind you keep holding you up. Your cheek stings.

“Stupid bitch.”

He laughs and the men laugh with him.

“We’ll see how brave you are after we cut you up.”

As you continue to struggle, they drag you into the alley.

Tears of helpless rage fill your eyes. This was stupid. You were stupid. You should’ve just stayed away like your coworker said.

Now these assholes were going to take you away, do who-knew-what to you, and because of your own foolishness, you would never get to see Chuuya again.

You bite your lip.

Chuuya...

You’re trying not to cry.

Help me...

Just then, a harsh voice cuts through the night. It’s quiet but it rings with authority.

And barely suppressed rage.

“Let go of her.”

You stop struggling immediately. You’d know that voice anywhere.

As one, you and the men gripping you by the arms turn to look down the alleyway, where you see a lone figure standing there at the very end of the street. He is a black shape outlined against the backdrop of the downtown streets, his dark clothes bathed in the harsh blue and red glow of signs made of neon lights. His face is in shadow, but...

The lone figure wears a fancy black hat and a jacket draped over both shoulders.

Chuuya.

“Chuuya-san...!”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

You want to say more. You want to call out to him, loud enough for him to actually hear but for some reason you cannot. Something’s wrong with him tonight. His very presence is unnerving and without knowing why, you begin to tremble.

“Well, look who’s here,” the man with the scar crows.

He takes a knife out of his pocket.

“Nakahara Chuuya. We’ve been looking for you. Come with us. Our boss needs to have a little talk with you. And if you don’t...”

He holds the knife at your throat. You hold your breath as it presses against your flesh.

“The Missy here gets it.”

Chuuya steps forward and out of the shadows and at once, you know why you’re suddenly afraid. You feel the men holding your arms falter.

There’s an odd red glow around Chuuya, around his entire outline. As he steps forward, his long black jacket begins to lift off his shoulders in an unseen wind, billowing around him like a cape. You think you hear something like a dull roar echoing throughout the alleyway and when Chuuya looks up, his gaze is fierce. His eyes burn like twin blue flames in the night.

This isn’t the same Chuuya who’d flirted with you at the bar.

This man is something else.

He continues towards you.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Chuuya snarls, his teeth bared.

When his foot hits the pavement, it cracks underfoot. Rubble rises into the air all around him, glowing red like the aura around Chuuya’s body.

“Get.”

Another step forward. The pavement breaks yet again. It’s as if Chuuya’s weight has increased threefold when he took that second step towards you.

“Your.”

The roaring sound grows louder. More rubble rises into the air.

“Filthy.”

Chuuya’s footsteps grow heavier. He’s now leaving craters in his wake. You don’t understand how it’s happening but the rubble is now orbiting around his body like the rings of a planet.

“Hands.”

The men loosen their hold on you but they haven’t let go. Chuuya sees this and his eyes seem to glow more fiercely in the dark. He looks utterly terrifying.

“Off.”

Chuuya grabs a handful of the rubble around him and draws his hand back. He steps into a pool of dim red light and his body looks like it’s bathed in blood.

“My woman.”

He takes out a stone, flips it into the air like a coin and flicks it with his thumb.

You don’t even see it move.

There’s just a brief whistling sound and a crack.

The arm of the scarred man--the arm holding a knife to your throat--explodes in a shower of blood. Some of it splatters the front of your dress. You’re so shocked, you don’t even scream.

The man next to you, however, does.

He lets out a howl of pain, clutching his ruined arm and dropping to the his knees, his knife clattering uselessly to the ground in front of you. He’s crying and screaming about his arm, blood gushing from the stump of his elbow and into the street. The puddle inches towards your shoes.

The men holding you drop your arms and tear off into the night--the entire crew goes running back towards the street, leaving you in the middle of the alleyway between them and Chuuya.

Chuuya’s bright blue eyes narrow and he repeats his earlier movement, flicking several more stones towards the men in the alleyway with deadly precision. One by one, the men drop to the ground, their screams cut short. The last one is quicker on his feet than his companions and is just about to round the corner when Chuuya crouches down and leaps into the air.

You watch in awe, turning to follow his movements as he soars over you, gracefully arcing through the sky, his body suddenly as light as a feather. The stones follow him, continuing to orbit around him in a ring like a miniature belt of asteroids. With one flick of his wrist, several rocket towards the man who’s almost made it into the street. You turn your face away as you hear the dull, wet squelching of the stones tearing through his body, splattering his organs on the nearby buildings and sidewalk.

The man next to you is still crying and clutching his arm. He rushes past you, desperate to escape.

You can’t see Chuuya, but you know where he is.

You start towards his location but within moments, he’s in the sky again. You whirl around to see him several paces behind you, standing before the man whose arm he destroyed.

He grabs the man by the throat and slams him against the wall. Cracks appear in the drywall behind his body. Miraculously, he doesn’t pass out.

“You tell your boss,” Chuuya hisses, his tone low and menacing, “that if you try this shit again, I’ll send what’s left of his cronies back to him in a fucking bento box.”

He slams the man against the wall again.

“If you’ve got business with me or with the Port Mafia, then it stays with us. You got that?”

The man nods, tears streaming down his face.

Chuuya lets go of him at last and he crumples to the ground in a heap.

Scowling, Chuuya turns to you at last, the glow in his blue eyes suddenly fading as the red-tinted aura around him dissipates. Behind him, the scarred man scrambles to his feet and scampers off into the night.

“Chuuya--” you start but he is in no mood to let you finish.

“You,” Chuuya growls, stalking forward. “What were you doing out here so late at night? Are you an idiot? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

You’re stunned. After all this time, he’s angry?

“I came looking for you,” you protest, equally bewildered and hurt by the sheer anger in his voice. “I haven’t seen you in so long and--and you never gave me a single way to find you--Chuuya, I--”

“Why would you do that?!” he roars, slamming his fist against the wall.

No crater appears, but the drywall cracks.

Chuuya grits his teeth. He seems to have difficulty looking at you. He drops his gaze and the brim of his hat falls over his eyes, obscuring his face. Bits of drywall crumble down around his gloved hand. His fist is shaking.

“Why would you try to find me?” he asks, his voice hushed.

He’s asking you this? Why is he asking you this?

“Because...”

Your hands clench into fists when Chuuya does not not look up.

Fuck.

You bite your lip, hard, so that you don’t cry.

After all this time, he won’t even look at you? After everything you’ve been through? After all this??

“You really don’t get it?” you ask quietly, holding back those hot, bitter tears.

Chuuya doesn’t answer. Still doesn’t look up.

Why won’t he look at you?

It makes you angry. Angrier than you’ve been in years. You want to scream.

“You want to know why I came looking for you?” you ask bitterly.

Chuuya inclines his head slightly, which you take to be a nod. Pissed, you take a step towards him.

“It’s because I missed you, you fucking dumbass!”

Chuuya twitches violently.

He looks up, a mixture of shock and wonder clearly visible in the depths of his deep blue eyes. He looks mesmerized by you.

He’s not moving so you take another step towards him, suddenly feeling like you’re approaching a skittish alley cat. You hold out your hands when you speak.

“Don’t you understand, Chuuya-san? I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you so bad.”

You don’t care that he just maimed or even killed several people in front of you, that he has power beyond imagining and could turn his Gift on you if he so wished. He killed those men to save you.

To you, he was still Chuuya-san.

He was your Chuuya.

“I came looking for you... because you never even said goodbye. I didn’t have your phone number, or address. I don’t even know where you work or what your last name is. Chuuya, I had no way of contacting you.”

“That was the whole point,” Chuuya interrupts but you talk over him.

“So when I heard you might be here tonight,” you say, loud enough that he has to stop talking. “I had to come. I had to, you understand?”

Chuuya falls silent. His expression is contemplative, with an undercurrent of pain. His deep blue eyes are fully focused on you.

It was the same face he made the night he left the bar all those months ago.

“Chuuya-san...”

You swallow, ready to ask the question you’re afraid to hear the answer to.

“Didn’t you want to see me, too?”

But Chuuya doesn’t answer. Hot pinpricks sting your eyes. Shit. You’re going to cry.

“I see,” you say stiffly.

You gather your jacket more tightly about your body, preparing to leave.

“Sorry to have bothered you.”

You’re about to turn around and go when you see Chuuya’s fist tightening. With a start, you see his jaw tensing up. He’s gritting his teeth too. But he still doesn’t speak. You sigh.

“Goodbye,” you whisper. “Chuuya--”

“Wait.”

Chuuya rushes forward and before you can finish speaking, he’s gathered you in his arms in a fierce hug. His grip on you is so tight that you can hardly breathe.

“I did,” he whispers.

His voice is so small you can barely hear it.

“I wanted to see you too.”

“Chuuya-san...”

“The barkeep told me everything,” he growls. “He told me that you’ve been coming here almost every Friday night at our usual time. That you’ve been looking for me.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder and you reach up to comfort him. You gently pat his back.

“And waiting.”

“Chuuya-san.”

You swallow thickly.

“Tell me the truth. Why didn’t you want me looking for you? Are you...?”

You feel his arms around you tensing. He knows what you’re about to ask.

“Are you really with the Port Mafia?”

For a long, heavy moment, Chuuya doesn’t answer. But when he does, his voice sounds slightly hoarse.

“I am.”

As he speaks, you can feel his grip around you tightening, his arms wrapping more securely around your shoulders and waist, as if letting go of you would mean letting go of you for good.

“Chuuya-san...” 

Your fingers slowly curl into fists against his chest and the expensive fabric of his jacket wrinkles beneath your touch.

“My full name is Nakahara Chuuya,” he whispers against your hair. “And I’m not just any member of the Port Mafia. I’m one of the executives.”

Involuntarily, you stiffen and the instant he feels your fingers twitch against his chest, Chuuya groans.

“I knew this would happen. I knew it would. Fuck.”

His arms loosen and unfold from around you. He’s pulling away.

But before he can, you reach out.

“Wait, Chuuya! Don’t go!”

You grab fistfuls of his jacket and pull on it to stop him from leaving. You bury your face in his shoulder and he stops short. You feel his sharp intake of breath.

“Please,” you whisper. “Don’t leave again.”

“H-hey...”

Chuuya’s voice is flustered and unsteady. But he doesn’t move away.

“I kept thinking about it, you know...” you mumble, closing your eyes as you feel Chuuya’s black-gloved hand smoothing down your hair.

“About the way you look when you’re sitting there at the bar with me. The way you laugh when we talk. The way you look at me when we’re together. You were wonderful. Chuuya-san... You’re not a bad person, I know you’re not.”

“But I’m not a good guy,” Chuuya insists.

He drops his hand. Now he’s just standing there as you continue to cling to him. You lift your head and look right into his eyes, which widen in sudden surprise.

“I don’t care whether Chuuya-san is a good guy or a bad guy!” you exclaim. “All I know is... I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as your smile.”

Chuuya stiffens. You can barely feel him breathing.

“You...” he starts, and the emotion in his voice is enough to bring tears to your eyes. “You really think that?”

You nod vigorously.

“Yes. Yes, I do. I think about you all the time... Chuuya.”

I care about you...

He wraps his arms around you and, wordlessly, you do the same. For a moment, you just stand there together, locked in a silent embrace in the middle of this dark, bloodstained alleyway. You nestle your face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like the subtle musk and spice of an expensive cologne, like roses and gun smoke and something more, something uniquely Chuuya...

Finally he speaks.

“I can’t leave the Port Mafia, you know,” he says in an undertone, his fingers stroking through your hair.

“I know.”

In response, you hold him tighter. There’s a subtle wrenching in your gut, but you won’t let go.

“I’m not asking you to. It’s fine.”

“This isn’t going to be the last time this happens,” Chuuya protests, “You could get hurt.”

“I said it’s okay,” you insist. “Just...”

You swallow with some difficulty. You know what you’re asking and you know how selfish it is... but you can’t let go of him.

“Just let me stay by your side.”

You press yourself further into him. His body is warm, still humming with some kind of energy, but beneath that well-fitted vest, you can feel his heart beating against yours.

“Please.”

Time passes. You stay like this for what feels like hours but you aren’t willing to let go. Neither, it seems, is Chuuya. Finally, he sighs.

“I knew you were special from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he says, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. You can feel the low rumble of his silent laughter travel through his compact frame and despite your worry, you feel better.

“I just didn’t realize,” Chuuya murmurs, “that ‘special’ meant ‘crazy.’“

“If I’m crazy,” you laugh, “then it’s only because I’ve gone crazy for you.”

The words are out of your mouth before you even realize what you’ve said and upon hearing you, Chuuya lets out a bark of a laugh.

“You,” he cackles, “you really are something, you know that?”

His laughter fading, Chuuya loosens his hold on you. He lets you pull back just enough so that he can see your face but not enough that you can move out of his arms--not that you want to. Even in the dim lighting in this dingy alleyway, Chuuya looks so beautiful up close. His deep blue eyes gleam brightly as they stare into yours and without thinking about it, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips.

And then Chuuya smiles. Really smiles.

His grin is toothy and somewhat lopsided with obvious delight, and yet, his expression still doesn’t lose any of that cool, self-assured energy you’ve come to associate with Chuuya and only Chuuya.

You smile back. Your body grows warm.

Yes. This is the smile you wanted to see. The smile you’d missed so much for the last few months that it nearly killed you to think that you might not see it again. But right now, Chuuya’s smile is different. Good different.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him looking quite so happy before.

“Chuuya...”

Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as one of his hands slides down to your waist. Chuuya places two black-gloved fingers beneath your chin and tilts your face towards his.

“Makes sense that you would be something special,” he whispers, his breath warm against your lips. “You are mine, after all.”

You close your eyes and the distance between you disappears. Chuuya’s lips are soft and sweet as they move against yours and you feel your breath hitch in your throat as his tongue ghosts over your upper lip. He feels so good and you cling to him as he deepens the kiss, pressing your body to his so tightly, you half wonder if you might be crushed by his strength.

But you like it.

You like the feel of his arms around your body, the way he grips you so tightly that his fingers dimple your flesh, the way he tastes--no wine could ever be as intoxicating as the man called Nakahara Chuuya...

When you come up for air at last, you’re both breathless.

”Wow,” Chuuya breathes, sounding just as dazed as you feel, “You’re... You’re a really good kisser...”

“So are you,” is all you manage to gasp before he dives back in for more.

As the moon rises high in the sky above you, you part at last, flushed and giddy and dizzy with joy. Chuuya takes your hand and leads you out of the alleyway, back to the bar you thought was closed.

He raps on the door with one black-gloved hand, the other tightly gripping yours, and turns back to shoot you that signature cocky grin when that same mustachioed bartender opens the door at last.

“I think it’s time we call you that cab,” Chuuya laughs as he pulls you inside the warmth of the empty room. “But I’ll meet you here again tomorrow, okay? Same time as usual.”

You nod. You’re smiling so hard it almost hurts but you’re just so happy...!

“It’s a date,” you say, to which Chuuya’s grin grows only wider. “So don’t go blowing me off this time.”

Laughing, he tugs you back towards him and presses another kiss to your lips, his grin returning as soon as he pulls away. His blue eyes shine like a bright, cloudless sky.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, holding you close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou sd #nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya x y/n

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 2

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let’s try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We’re living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn’t actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @vozit​ @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings​

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings  ! She deserves all the love 💙

Peter woke me up at eight AM the next morning like the little shit that he was, demanding I make him pancakes. It wasn’t the first time I’ve had the joy to experience him in the morning and he knew exactly how to antagonise me enough to make him the special pancakes he liked so much. They had become kind of a ritual whenever he stayed over at my house, which was quite often - teachers liked me enough to pair me up with one of the most sensible kids for any projects that couldn’t be done alone by yours truly on her own.

I put on my yesterday’s dress, applied moisturizer and obediently trotted behind an excitedly mumbling Peter. The kitchen was large, beautiful and delightfully empty of any resident superheroes. I’ve indirectly crossed paths with all of the tower’s residents hanging around Tony, but I’ve yet had to speak more than polite niceties to any of them. 

Spying a bowl of boiled eggs and some sort of weird salad alongside half burned toast on the counter, I suddenly understood why Peter demanded his pancakes. I strictly instructed the disaster child to stay away from my cooking process and set to work with one ear listening to his ramblings and a headphone in the other. 

A set of thumping footsteps appeared behind me as I was pouring the batter for the first pancake. Their owner loudly sat down next to Peter, sighing, groaning, generally making “I’m not a morning person” sounds.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” Peter’s tone was way, way too chipper.

“‘mrng,” The Sergeant grumbled. “Who’s this and why is she making pancakes?”

I turned around, spatula at the ready. “It’s me,” We’ve actually met before, but Barnes had left before I could even come over from my side of the work bench to say hello.

He nodded in acknowledgement after giving me a suspicious once-over. “One of Stark’s science children. I’m James but you can call me Bucky,” His voice sounded rough and gravely, and he clutched a coffee cup half the size of my head.

I snorted. “Science child, sure,” It wasn’t half-bad actually. I wisely choose to ignore the part of being Tony’s. No matter how hot the man was, I wasn’t anybody’s but my own, thank you very much. “Go get the bananas, Nutella and maple syrup, fellow science child.”

Peter scrambled to follow instructions as I plated the pancakes and cut the bananas into neat little rings to fill the sweet circles with. A tablespoon of Nutella, half a sliced banana, wrap, garnish with powdered sugar and pour maple syrup generously on top. I really didn’t see how this could be difficult but any and all attempts to teach Peter how to recreate my masterpiece always ended up in an absolute mess. I turned around to ask Bucky if he wanted any. The look of a man starved answered all my questions.

“You’re a goddess,” Peter moaned around his mouthful, nose smudged white with the powdered sugar.

“Gross, chew first then talk, you neanderthal,” I scoffed, prepping more batter for the second batch of pancakes. I wasn’t sure if everybody would show up but figured it would be rude to exclude them from the sheer magnificence that were my pancakes. I was just that good.

The music in my ear drowned most of Peter’s disgusting chewing noises, thankfully. My second batch vanished into thin air, inhaled by the two males like the garbage disposals that they were. Peter, in particular, ate an alarming quantity of food and I was surprised how he managed to stay so skinny. His daily eating schedule resembled the Hobbits.

More people appeared, this time acting less surprised regarding me standing at the stove. Hawkeye, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch and her brother, all of them wandered in wearing sleep attire with various amusing prints. Thankfully, they mostly kept quiet or chatted with Peter - I would have definitely grumbled if someone tried to talk to me. As far as my body was concerned it was still the middle of the night.

“PANCAKES,” A booming voice announced and I shuddered at the sheer intensity and devotion contained in that one word. Thor.

“Please use your indoor voice,” I snapped reflectively. My brain caught up with what I just did so I hastily backtracked. “Sorry, I’m a bitch in the mornings.”

The blonde man chuckled, coming over to poke his nose into my flurry of pour-flip-fill sequence. Then, with all the grace and manners of a prince, he dipped one (1) large finger into the jar of Nutella and wandered off with it stuck in his mouth. With this turn of events the Nutella was bound to run out sooner than expected.

I turned around, annoyed confusion in plain sight. “The fuck?.. That’s gross, don’t do that,” Finding his brother (adopted!) sitting next to Thor, wearing a haughty smirk, finger still in his mouth. So Loki turned into his brother to steal Nutella from a jar. I sighed. Nobody even batted an eye. “Your alien germs are in there now, double ew.”

“Alien germs? Where?” Bruce entered the kitchen with a tablet under his arm, wearing Hulk themed pajamas, Captain America in tow. I was honestly on the verge of breaking down into hysterical laughter. Domestic Avengers wasn’t something I’d expected to see or experience, ever, much less be a part of. It took a moment for me to remind myself that they were people, too, and each of them was entitled to their own quirks. 

“America, egg-splain,” Peter muttered under his breath, giggling. “Loki stuck his hand in the Nutella jar,” He pointed at said jar. “She got grumpy,” Peter pointed at me. “Don’t make her grumpy, please, I want more pancakes,” And turned his pleading puppy eyes in my direction again.

“This is indentured servitude,” I pointed my spatula at the little shit. “You just had, like, ten.” But I made more batter nonetheless. I must admit it was kind of cool, seeing the earth’s mightiest defenders so relaxed. And Pete being happy, that was just… The best. I don’t know how to explain it. His eternal cheerfulness was highly contagious.

Chuckles filled up the room, the adults chatting and bickering amongst themselves while they patiently waited for their own breakfast. 

“Do you need some help?” Bruce approached me after stopping to fetch himself a cup of tea. It smelled strongly of tangy herbs and honey.

“I need more Nutella and bananas,” I admitted, surveying the sheer amount of people I had to feed. I didn’t doubt the Captain and two Asgardians had an appetite to match Peter’s which meant a literal extra set of condiments was required. Thankfully, Bruce fetched them for me, coming to a stop next to me. “Anything else?”

“You know, I tried making these with Peter and he just ended up with powdered sugar and chocolate all over himself,” I mused, noting the way Banner was carefully observing the assembly of a pancake. “You think Doctor seven-phds can manage to add a few toppings to a pancake without causing a disaster?“ 

Bruce rolled his eyes fondly, bumping me with his hip. "I’m no Clint Barton when it comes to cooking but at least I don’t burn my toast like Steve,” True to his word, his hands made swift motions of filling, wrapping and plating each individual pancake. They were almost as good as mine albeit more messy. I had lots of practice though. We finished off a batch in companionable silence, sounds of the team and my music playing in the background. 

I didn’t notice when I started swaying to the rhythm, catching a confused look from Bruce. I brushed back my hair, revealing a wireless headphone in my ear and he chuckled in understanding. “What are you listening to?”

“Right now? Kings of Leon,” I said, leaning towards him so he could hear the chorus “Use Somebody” currently occupying my right ear. 

“I like them, too,” He said, his cheek gently touching mine. His hands slowed on the pancake, a soft hum vaguely reminding me of the song’s melody emanating from his throat. “What else do you usually listen to?”

“Mostly heavier stuff, but I have a whole separate playlist dedicated to mid-2000s bops,” I answered. “I’ve heard I’m quite old school when it comes to music.”

“Well, I am an old man, so…” Bruce grinned mischievously. “But my guilty pleasure is Lady Gaga,” He admitted with a laugh.

I laughed, too. The image of his dancing in his lab to Born This Way was too much for my brain and I hung my head, fighting giggles. Bruce bumped me with his hip again, faking a pout. “Okay, okay, that was a fucking hilarious image, you go dude,” I finally powered through my struggle to contain laughter. “My own guilty pleasure would be… Umm… Lana Del Rey, I guess.”

Bruce made a vague noise of confusion. I took a brief break from mixing the batter to dig out my second headphone, presenting it to him and switching to a song. “This is what makes us girls”. Despite the fact I have never stolen a car or had a close female friend, the nostalgia was real. “Carmen” followed after the first song and I silently thanked whatever deity that “You can be the boss” was taken out of Spotify - I don’t think I was prepared to share that kind of information with a lab partner. An older, handsome lab partner. Wait… Where did that come from?

“I like it,” He said after the song ended and my more usual stuff began playing. “It suits you, I think.”

I groaned. “Really? I think it’s edgy,” Hiding away the embarrassment, I passed him a tray of freshly baked pancakes, occupying his immediate attention.

“You’re an old soul,” He gave me a lopsided smile. I saw a very faint blush tinting his cheeks, the kind of blush that had me wondering about the meaning behind his words. 

I gave an attempt at a smile in response, the left corner of my mouth barely tilting up. We talked some more about the rock music we shared in our earphones. I had a lot of 80s hair metal and 90s grunge in my playlist. Bruce was not a Curt Cobain man but enjoyed the works of his legacy, Marcy Playground. 

A tan hand wormed its way between me and Bruce, snatching a handful of banana slices and disappeared just as swiftly. “Tonyyy,” Bruce groaned, picking up another banana to replace the stolen pieces.

The spatula in my hand became a weapon as I blindly aimed at the target behind my back. A loud “ow” indicated I hit it. When I turned around, Tony was clutching the side of his face, a hurt look in his eyes and cheeks stuffed full of stolen goods. I stared him square in the face, absolutely refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was shirtless - the arc reactor glowed brightly in the middle of his toned chest. Fuck.

His chest was honestly what I was aiming for. I constantly kept forgetting how short he actually was. There was this one time when Tony had to put his arms around me to steady a piece of tech - he felt huge, hard and enormous around me. 

“What’s that for, Princess?” He finally chewed through his food and found his voice.

“For being a Tony,” I retorted. “Stay away from my workspace and wait for your breakfast like everybody else.”

“Hey! This is my kitchen,” He whined immediately, like the adult man that he was. I nearly cried from how adorable his face became, eyebrows scrunched up. “I don’t want to wait! And why does he,” Tony’s finger accusingly pointed at Bruce, “Get the bananas?!”

“Because he’s Brucie-bear,” I stuck my nose up in the air when Bruce’s arm wrapped around my waist. “He’s my science father,” I stuck my tongue out at Tony, seeing Bruce’s triumphant smile. Banner used every opportunity to get back at Tony’s incessant sass. 

The gleaming in Tony’s eyes should have alarmed me. “But he’s not your science daddy,” Tony’s flirting was accompanied by a salacious eyebrow wiggle and Peter’s screech of “OH MY GOD!" 

It took me every ounce of willpower to not flush. It was one of those rare times that I was at a complete loss of words. Thinking on the spot, I gave a very meaningful look to Bruce - thankfully, he got the gist and returned an equally filthy smirk back. Tony gaped.

"Is this how they are in the lab?” The Captain’s quiet voice leaked horrified amusement.

“All.The.Time.” Peter’s resonating groan was followed by Romanoff’s laughter.

We went up to the lab after breakfast. Thankfully Tony stopped his dramatic bitching when I served him my pancakes, scarfing them down much like everybody else. So me and Pete were accompanied by one (1) happy engineer, all three of us tinkering away on a robot that we were supposed to present in our science class in a month. The focus that was required to solder was immense and our usual banter was missing, replaced by an occasional request for a specific tool or a water bottle.

It took a few hours to get the dirty job done even with Tony’s help (technically he wasn’t supposed to but neither me nor Pete had the heart to forbid him from it when the man looked so content and happy soldering away). By the time I uncurled from my spot on the bench, my back was in knots and my dress had oil stains and holes all over it. I immediately went to the nearest water bottle, finishing half of it in seconds, picking up my phone to see if I had any important messages from my mother.

None.

Just a message from Bruce.

I tapped on my phone, idly scrolling through the Instagram app, liking some pictures of people I barely knew and keeping up a general appearance of being very busy. When the ringtone started playing, it took me a whole five seconds to understand it was, in fact, coming from my phone - I certainly wouldn’t put something so… Outrageous as my main tone.

Banner had discovered the power of the internet. You Can Be The Boss played loudly, and it played from my phone and Bruce was calling me. I picked it up, turning around, fighting the incoming laughter. “Yes, Brucie?" 

To say that Tony’s and Peter’s faces were scandalised was nothing. The boy’s face was such a deep shade of red, I started worrying about his blood pressure and Tony’s mouth hung open limply, like he was witnessing the second coming of Christ. 

"Is Tony sufficiently traumatized?” Judging by the breathless tone of his voice, Banner was resisting a mighty laughing fit of his own.

“Oh, absolutely,” I happily chirped.

“Good, keep it up. Come to my lab before you leave,” Banner snorted and then, realising what he’d done, promptly hung up, the tell-tale beginning of a giggle fit abruptly interrupted by a dial tone.

I put the phone in my bag, gathering the rest of my things with a look somewhere between innocence and indifference. At least, I hoped it was - my mind kept jumping between the engineer’s ridiculously scandalised face and the way his mouth went slack, lips moist and soft and plush. That’s a very dangerous trail.

A very dangerous trail I couldn’t resist exploring in the solitude and privacy of my own bedroom, at home.

#bun writes #party favours #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n

[shesawriter39049]

|THE PLUG|M| 5|

(I picked this because he looks genuinely happy here...once you read you’ll see why)

SMUT/ANGST/FLUFF

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

About-Post sex come down...a little pillow talk..some feels...and maybe another orgasm or two....

**Your local plug aka your weedman is now offically your boyfriend....

2K SNEEK PEAK

WARNINGS: For this part? Praise kink/Light edging/ Grinding/Non penetrative sex/ Kissing/ Overstiumlation/ FEELS OH THE FEELS/mentions of subspace (1st time) OH breif mentions of previous physical abuse

NOTE- This is a series but you can read this part and not be totally lost...however all the emotions running through Jimin’s body will hit you a little diferent if you later go read the others!

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

“Hey” He coos, low, warm, a little concerned, as he soothes his palm down your back, feeling the way you try and arch up into his touch no matter how weak your body is! So he grips one hand around your neck, the other at the small of your back, and slides you up further. Bringing your forehead flush to his where you can feel a deep, slow exhale leaves Jimin’s tattooed chest as if he’s been holding his breath the entire time.

“How you feelin’ baby?” There’s slight hesitation behind the question and honestly, that was understandable, this wasn’t something either of you expected. You don’t respond, or even fully acknowledge him right away, just blinking slowly, lashes fluttering, eyes trying to readjust, feeling, and looking somewhat disoriented. Yet no matter how confused you initially are, something that’s clear the moment you regain consciousness... it’s how safe you feel in Jimin’s arms right now. I mean yeah, your a little sticky, and need a long-ass shower, but you feel good, you feel secure! Reaching up to scratch his fingertips through your scalp almost as if you’re a cat, and you find yourself smiling, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your head into his hand.

Honestly, your not sure how to process what you currently feel washing over your body! I guess because the couple times you ran through how this scenario may play out in your head, it didn’t go anything like this! It wasn’t this warm and comforting afterward….it all just felt a lot darker, scarier..almost belittling. You’re independent by nature, maybe even a female alpha by some standards, so the thought of giving yourself over to anyone in that capacity, giving them full control...As much as you’ve always wanted it, realistically it always felt scary, intimidating, even a little embarrassing in your mind! Whereas this, this right here, felt natural it felt right, your body felt loved, sated, you personally felt empowered, it was nothing like what you imagined in your head. The weight behind it was so much heavier, the connection felt deeper and more liberating than you ever thought it would. Which is what makes you endlessly grateful that you saved this for someone like Jimin. Someone who would actually appreciate the notion, and understand the mental and physical side of it all, the parts that make it more than just a kink.

Of course, we can’t disregard how you feel physically, this level of exhaustion after sex is somewhat foreign to you. Your body feels sluggish and weak, your eyes are heavy, and you already know your voice is fucked. But mentally which is where your biggest concern came from, your good, you’re at peace with it all.

Lashes fluttering up in his direction, offering a faint hum in response, nodding softly against his chest. “Jus’ tired…” giving him the best smile you can muster hoping it reaches your eyes so he believes it.

He nods, slow and understanding, “Take your time baby, sleep…you were perfect” The words smiled gently into your hair, as his fingers trickle up and down your spine. Jimin knows he told Yoongi an hour, he also knows the topic of Dom being out of jail is a serious situation and needs to be addressed. However, he can’t and won’t allow himself to pull away from you until your in a stronger state than you are right now. He just can’t, so he reaches for his phone sending the elder a quick text, essentially explaining that he’s not sure when but they will talk at some point tonight.

Eventually, he feels your breathing completely even out, and your lashes still against his skin. Indicating your exhaustion has officially washed over your body and you’ve drifted off into what he hopes is a peaceful night's sleep.

Jimin’s not even sure how much time has passed and to be honest he really doesn’t care, the silence is comforting just laying in bed breathing as one. He’s far from tired, though he has every reason to be exhausted, there’s just way too much swirling around his head right now. The only sound in the room is the faint hum of the fan and the occasional playful banter he can hear from his boys downstairs. His heart feels... full, it feels complete as you lay here with him, your body feeling completely at ease against his own. After allowing him to have you in your most vulnerable state of being, after trusting him to take care of you the way you needed, even if you didn't really know what that was!

He’s not sure why or when but his eyes start to burn again and this time he lets the tears gently stream down his face. Reclining his neck, staring up at the ceiling, securing his hold around the nape of your neck and the small of your back. As if he’s reminding himself that you're here, right here and you’re not going anywhere! Jimin knows these are happy tears, and they are, he can’t even remember the last time every aspect of his life has felt as though it’s come together at once. Yet he also can’t help that ache in the back of his heart when he thinks about Dom...he’s not scared of him by any means. They use to be boys, but it’s not a secret they’ve always road slightly different waves until they eventually crashed into one another! What he is scared of is the person Dom might turn him back into if he oversteps his boundaries, especially where you’re safety’s concerned. Jimin told you that night in the car about the situation that eventually led to him leaving his parents for good. About how abusive his dad was to his mom and even after he helped her move she still let him come back. About that one night, he walked in on his dad on top of his mom and completely blacked out! The way his mother had to physically pry him off his father or he's not sure if or when he would have stopped on his own.

Jimin never thought he’d meet someone else that could get him to that point if need be, to the point that he’d do any and everything to keep them safe! Maybe it’s fucked up repossession for the fact that he feels like he couldn’t really keep his mother safe...But as he looks down at you, laying so pliant and trusting on his chest, he vividly recognizes that sense of protectiveness streaming through his veins! A feeling he hasn’t felt in years, he just prays, he never has to go there with anybody where you’re concerned, because what’s evens scarier is he knows he will, in a heartbeat!

Jimin’s not that reckless 16-year old with nothing to lose anymore, and that’s what he has to remember when his mind goes off the grid like that! He’s a  grown-ass man! A man that has so much going for him regardless of how others may feel about is life choices, he knows he’s doing well for himself! He also knows he has so much to look forward too, and more importantly he has so much worth keeping! Including the beautiful woman laying on his chest that’s choosen to walk head first into a hurricane with no fear...because she knows it’s worth it. She knows Your worth it ….

He opts not to fight it and just let it be, and continues to allow himself to feel everything he needs to, trying his hardest not to wake you in the process. Periodically wiping his face so his tears don’t trickle down his neck, trying to keep his body at ease so his abdomen dosen’t tense the more he cries. Allowing his mind to wander continiously flowing from thought to thought. The overall consensus of it all though, is he deserves this he deserves to be happy, all he can hear is Tim telling him at the end of every day they spent together…

“It’s worth it kid, it may not feel like it right now but it is, trust me one day it will be!” And he was right because right now, everything he’s ever been through feels so minuscule in comparison to how overwhelmed and happy his heart is. He almost wants to feel like he doesn’t deserve to feel this overflow but he won’t allow himself to sink there be he dose! He fuckin does….Jimin’s eyes are cloudy and heavy it hurts to keep them open at this point and he’s sure he looks like a damn blowfish. That’s when his phone beeps in his hand and his body stills praying you don’t wake up, instantly turning the phone on silent. Glaring at his phone through clouded vision to see a text from Yoongi that simply reads.

“Whenever you’re ready”

And he can’t help but smile and cry a little more because he swears the elder has a sixth sense when it comes to him. Always knowing exactly when to push and when to just ease up, Yoongi’s been a friend, a big brother, a shoulder, hell even a father in some instances since Tim’s past. Honestly, he really wonders where he’d be right now if it wasn’t; for Yoongi cheering him on, and being his right hand whenever he’d needed one! Jimin’s also very acutely aware that he does owe his “Hyung” (which is a name he’s never called Yoongi in his life mind you so, he still can’t get over the fact that he reffered to himself as such. ) A thank you, for making sure you came over here tonight because fuck if he didn’t need it! Whipping his eyes somewhat agressivly as if to say he’s gotten frustrated with himself from crying so damn much!

“Go, I’m okay…” The words muffled low and horse against Jimin’s chest but he heard you loud and clear. Eyes wide and a little disoriented at your sudden response. I mean he obviously knows what you’re referring to he just- I guess didn’t think you were fully conscious when Yoongi called initially to even know what was going on!

“What baby?” Fingers playing idly in your hair, as he felt you shift against him, head tilting in his direction, trying to let your eyes readjust to the now pitch-black room.

“That was Yoongi earlier right? Go I’m’ fine, I prom-”

‘Baby” Tone a little sharper than before but the concern is overtaking any authority he’s attempting to have right now!

“Stop,” Gently pressing your palm against his chest as if to slow him down “ I know this weekends crazy for you, I wasn’t nexpecting your undivided attention when I stopped by…I just needed to see you.” Reaching out into the dark to stroke his jaw, gently thumbing along his plump bottom lip. “Plus...mm..kinda hungry” Ohhh and the beauiful moment has now ended...smooth transition...smooth.

You could feel Jimin’s face split into a smile beneath your fingers which quickly transitioned into a full-blown cackle, loud, airy, and just fuck relieved...so damn relieved that you genuinely did seem to be okay…

“Ohh so that’s what this is about? Just trying to use me for my car huh? I see how it is…” A blatant pout laced within his delivery though it was clearly playful.

Shifting against his lap slightly, leaning down to search for his lips, which didn’t take long to find. Jimin flicked his chin up to meet yours immediately, sighing out the minute you made contact. “Yup, just wat you for your car...oh and your weed lets not forget your weed” 

A stated smile playing on your lips, as you kissed him,honestly the two of you were smiling so hard at first it took you a minute to even get into a groove! It started off slow, and chaste, initially, until Jimin reclined his jaw to allow you to lick your way back into his mouth for the umpteenth time tonight. The kiss was slow, deep, heavy, the gentle slide of his tongue against your own, as you swallow each other moans triggered by faint touches on the edge of your fingertips. Tattooing goosebumps along the soft planes of your skin after every featherlike touch…Jimin’s hands moved through you like an ocean. Ravishing every inch of you he could reach, gently massaging your aching body between his strong nimble fingers. You could feel the heightened sense of urgency within every kiss that fell of Jimin’s lips, he was kissing you as if he was afraid to let you go. As if he was trying to say something he really wants’t ready to say quite yet, but needed you to feel...

“Thank you” Pants from your lips and brushes agaisnt his, thumbing at the hinge of his jaw “For taking such good care of me, for keeping me…”up” as they say. I know at some point will need to talk about it. But right now, I’m tired, really fuckin hungry...and honestly, I feel good baby, I’m good…” Nuzzling against his nose, a faint smile playing on your lips.

You could vaguely see him nod, though even in the darkness you could sense the hint of concern and hesitation within his eyes as he pulled you back down.  So you reiterated it one more time, only there seemed to be a hint of something more than excitation dripping of your tongue once you realized the way your man was looking up at you.

“I’m good” Nipping his bottom lip between your teeth gently....

“Mmm, yeah, you are good, so damn good...” Placing another lingering kiss along your lips, hands moving down to massage the swell of your ass. which eventually leds to him rocking his hips up into you, causing you to subconsciously grind down against his lap.”Your fucking perfect”

 Panting and moaning lightly against his mouth at the sudden stimulation,within seconds he had you feeling like you were burning from the inside out. Hands gripping down to guide your hips, so you don’t have to move, rolling them even harder against his length which is now rock hard. Well aware that he’s grazing your clit every time which is exactly what he’s aiming to do. Your pussys dripping down his cock, lips spread apart giving him the perfect slide to rip you apart all over again. And your just hanging on for the ride, tt’s not long before your thighs are shaking, and your clits rock hard against him. Your bodies still overly sensitive from your two orgasms barely an hour prior, lets also not forget to mention your body still recovering from its first subspace on top of it all.

“Jimin” You whine out low and shaky, eyes barley ajar “Fuck, your gonna-”

“Yeah, I know..I know...you can do it for me, baby, I know you can...come one more time for me before I go...” There's this slight whine laced within Jimin’s voice right now, as if he’s truly saying he, needs you to come..he needs it. There a silent “please” placed within his delivery that has your toes curling into the sheets. Lips ghosting against yours, as he slowly slides his tongue back into your mouth hot and heavy. Continiously guiding your hips in a deep, hard wave  until he feels you crying against his tongue, body going completely ridget on top of him, as he edges you through it. “Yess” Slurs off his tongue over and over againas he feels you come undone, as if hes cheering you on. Nails digging into his bare chest, and he doesn’t let you breathe he doesn’t give you an inch he just kisses you right through it. Smiling against your lips as you fall completely limp against him…moaning against your tongue as he feels you driping down is cock. ‘Good girl.....my good girl” Gently rolling his hips into you, as he eases you through your comedown, body jerking in oversensetivity the entire time.

“Fuck” Panted from your lips and into the side of his neck, chest still rising and falling against his own. 

Jimin chuckles low and pleased against your lips “I just had to make sure you fell right back asleep once I leave… “ Feathering an array of kisses against your lips that you were far too spent to reciprocate but you appreciate nevertheless.

“I’m gonna assume you want Taco Bell?”

Only offering a faint hum in response I’m not sure what else he really expected you to do at this point, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Gently soothing his hand up your back, giving you a moment to fully come down before he tenatively shifts you off of his chest. Reaching over for his phone with his oppisite hand, shooting Yoongi a quick text

Jimin: Come ride with me to get food for Y/N, we can talk about Dom then, I’ll be ready to leave in 15!

Jimin: Oh, have Tae or Kook go to her car it’s unlocked and bring her bags in, leave them outside my door.

Jimin: Thanks hyung ;P

__________________________

HEYYYYYYY,

If you guys are excited for part 5 show this some love and come talk to meee!!! I’ve been playing with this chapter for about a month now....

Also, CH.5 is the rest of 4:20 weekend...which hint, hint does involve Yoongi and Jimin meeting with Dom, and some other little domestic-esq moments! This also obviously isin’t the only smut in the chapter I actually wanna have them have sex in a fun location I just dont know where yet. Yoongi and Tae are in chapter 5 a little more as well! 

Part 6 is where it Jumps ahead to the wedding she and Jimin attend in miami btw!

PART 4 :

#jimin #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin angst #jimin au #park jimin #park jimin smut #park jimin x reader #bts #bts smut #bts au #bts angst #kpop #kpop smut #jimin fluff

[imacrowcawcaw]

Blood Brothers (Sanny)

*Smut alert! Smut alert! Also blood drinking during the smut!*

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover - Rockfic, luluthechoosingcrow- AO3, theladylovingcrow - Wattpad and Deviantart, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @theladylovingcrow writing/art Tumblr, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram

Fandom: Greta Van Fleet

Pairing: Sam Kiszka/Danny Wagner (Sanny)

Word Count: about 2500

Warnings/Tags: Vampire AU, blood drinking, gay pairing, smut (finger sucking, rim job, anal sex, masturbation), soulmates, cuddling, fluff, kinda angsty beginning, hurt/comfort, sweet ending

Summary: "He leaned forward to nuzzle his face into the crook of Sam's neck, smelling the coconut oil in his hair and the rich rush of life flowing just below his skin. Danny licked at his jugular, giving it a small, almost affectionate nip before grabbing Sam's arm that was around his back and bringing it forward."

Author's Notes:

Inspired by this post with @satans-helper 's tags and just her generally lovely self:) https://satans-helper.tumblr.com/post/188261333372/edyaleda-greta-van-fleet-by-lewis-vorn

Ahh I finished this hours ago but my phone died before I could post it and I was away from home :( But here it is! Hope everyone enjoys the smutty content lol

----------------------

"What do you *mean* she got away?" Sam screeched, looking, just for a second, like a crazed, homicidal *creature*.

Danny shrugged helplessly, running a nervous hand down the front of his faded red jacket. The dried blood on his sleeve was barely noticeable on top of the fabric.

"I don't know! I mean, I was about to go through with it, but then she- she..." he paused, big eyes staring pleadingingly at Sam. "Her mom called her, and she asked for just a minute because she never, ever misses one of her mom's phone calls. And she sounded so happy, so full of life and love and I just couldn't take that from her."

Sam looked back into Danny's slightly wet eyes, and sighed. He wanted to be mad - they hadn't eaten in weeks - but he knew that he would have done the same thing in that moment. Jake was by far the best at getting food.

"We gotta get better at this, babe. You know we can't afford to keep letting them go, not when Joshie and Jake are gone. We have to be tough."

"But it's not right! You know I can't do that to someone! I'm trying to be strong but I'm just too weak. I can't do this, Sammy."

"You're not weak, love, you have a fiercly gentle soul. Nothing can change all the care and compassion you have for people. And I love that you're still so soft, it's one of the most beautiful things about you." In fact, Danny had gotten even gentler as the years passed.

Sam pulled Danny into a hug, mindful of not breaking anything. Just because they could heal ridiculously fast didn't mean he was going to hurt his brother on purpose.

"I just- I feel like I'm not fit to be this, to do this. I'm not ready, and I probably never will be. Wouldn't you want someone else?" Danny whispered into Sam's hair, holding onto him tightly like he was afraid Sam might actually banish him.

"You fit because you're *you*, I wouldn't want anyone else. *We* wouldn't want anyone else, Danny," Sam amended. It didn't matter what his conscious was telling him, Danny had been a part of their family from the very start, way before, even. "You're stuck with us forever now, whether you like it or not. "

Danny chuckled softly, but it was a melancholy laugh, not one of genuine amusement.

"But that means you guys are stuck with me, too. And I can't, can't *hunt*" he forced the word out of his throat like it physically pained him to say it.

"Alright, enough of this self deprecating bullshit. I love you, big man. I'm *in love* with you, which means that I love your quirks, look past your flaws, and accept you for as you are. You can't hunt? You know it's hard for me too, but between the twins and what I can manage to do we'll have plenty, you don't need to. I want you with us because you belong with us, not because of the survival advantages or whatever animal bullshit you're thinking this is. Stop it! I love you, we love you, and we want you here with us!"

It was rare for Sam to get angry, and even then it was often more out of frustration and failed communication than true malice. He didn't know how else to get it through Danny's hair-padded-head that he was as much a part of their family as anybody else.

"Alright, you sap, I get it!" Danny muttered, sounding a little lighter. Sam knew from the tone of his voice that he didn't entirely believe him, but it was a start.

"I *am* sorry I didn't get her, though. I'm really hungry."

Sam sighed and pulled back to look at Danny, arms still around his waist. He didn't want to make him feel worse, but Sam was also seriously needing nourishment. They might technically be starving, actually, and not just in the oh-my-gosh-im-soooo-hungry way.

"Well, I don't think we're gonna be able to get anymore tonight, but there is still..." Sam trailed off, raising a provocative brow and tilting his head so his long tresses swung back, revealing the tendons of his neck.

Danny frowned again. "Sam, you know I wouldn't ever harm you like tha-"

"You wouldn't be! We've talked about this, honey, I've even researched it. It's completely, one hundred percent safe. It's just a little comfort, okay? I know that it won't really satiate the hunger, but I want you, you want me, and it will make us feel good for a while, you know it will."

"But- but we... I... fuck, Sammy," Danny murmered, protests all but forgotten at the sight of his favorite treat: his Sammy.

He leaned forward to nuzzle his face into the crook of Sam's neck, smelling the coconut oil in his hair and the rich rush of life flowing just below his skin. Danny licked at his jugular, giving it a small, almost affectionate nip before grabbing Sam's arm that was around his back and bringing it forward.

Sam's breathing got heavier as Danny rolled up his sleeve, running his hands lovingly over the baby soft inside of his wrist. He could feel his blood pumping, at this point less in his body than there should be as a healthy creature of the night much less a regular mortal. Their diet the last few weeks had been sparse thanks to the two main hunters of their family being gone on what they referred to as a "business trip".

Danny looked up right as he was about to attach his mouth to Sam, eyes shy but laced with a burning hunger he couldn't disguise. It was so endearing how he always cared for Sam - looked out for him, checked with him to make sure everything was all right when no one else would - even as he was about to feast on his blood.

Sam smiled encouragingly at him, eyes heavy lidded and arousal starting to thrum throughout his lower half. They'd discovered that this, the act of sharing blood with eachother, could be incredibly erotic and intimate. Another reason Danny didn't like "hunting" for victims: it was only something he wanted to share with Sam. Even if he didn't let the other person drink from him or have sexual intercourse, it was just too much like cheating to his tastes.

The taste of the blood, however, was sweet. Danny tried to remember what his taste buds were like before; couldn't. Nowadays, everything else was rather bland and muted, everything except blood. It was thick and bitterly sweet, like dark chocolate melted into a bowl and stirred up with sugar.

He drank, knowing he couldn't take much and so savoring every drop that Sam offered him. Danny kept his mouth latched onto the bite, couldn't release to breathe even if he wanted to, lest anything dripped onto the floor. Wouldn't do to waste what they had so precious little of.

Sam made a noise in the back of his throat, a strangled moan of both pain and pleasure. Danny finally pulled back, first holding Sam's wrist above his mouth so that the few drops of blood that could escape before the wound healed could be caught.

Danny was panting heavily, having drunken for nearly a minute without so much as a second-long break. His puplis were beautifully dilated, hiding most of his hazel irises, and they looked at Sam with such a strong message of love and devotion it nearly made him sob.

Now Danny presented his own arm to Sam, running his fingers over Sam's soft, full lips. He felt Sam's mouth part, his sharp canines running over his own skin and nearly slicing open the tip of his thumb.

Sam carefully pricked and sliced each of Danny's fingers, laving his tongue up and down them to catch the blood. He sucked down the digits with hollowed cheeks and hooded eyes, a sparkling of something ethereal, carnal, deliciously sinful glowing from within him.

Danny kept their otherworldly eyes locked, groaned low for Sam to hear how he was effecting him. He carefully curled his fingers within Sam's mouth, running over his palate and tangling with his tongue. Sam sucked him in deeper, swallowing around him and letting Danny feel the convulsions.

Danny laid a hand on Sam's throat, right below his jaw, and the other cupping his cheek, feeling him work. He rubbed his knuckles against Sam's teeth, reslicing them now that the cuts had healed.

Sam kept licking and drinking and sucking and swallowing, enjoying Danny's uniquely rich flavor of blood. Maybe it was because they were mates - by blood, by soul, by heart and mind - that all others paled in comparison to each other.

Sam pulled off of Danny's hand, taking a step back and hurriedly shucking his dark, expensive clothes carelessly, not giving a damn about the ripping fabric from his desperation-boosted-already-superhuman strength. He started helping Danny remove his own clothing before he got with the program and quickly undressed, too.

Danny spun Sam around, pressing him up against the wall in the living room. He snarled when Sam ground his ass back onto his erection, gripping a skinny bicep in one hand and using the other to hold Sam's wrist to the wall. Danny used his body to flatten Sam until he couldn't move, biting lightly - not enough to break the skin, they *never* drank from the throat, despite what some might believe (they werent *killers*) - at the side of his neck where Sam had flipped his hair side.

Keeping the one hand on Sam's bicep and moving the other to push on his back and keep him still, Danny slowly kneeled down so that his face was level with Sam's ass. He bit into the left cheek, drinking the blood that spurred out, then moved on to even more delicious things.

Sam nearly screamed when Danny's mouth closed over his hole. His mouth let loose high pitched groans and a startled yelp when Danny actually went inside the ring with his tongue, forcing him open on the slick muscle.

Danny ate him until he was sloppy and begging for more, the position bringing out Sam's more submissive side. The fingers that were on his arm joined Danny's mouth in exploring Sam's ass, one gently circling and then sliding inside. He moved it in and out for a time alongside his tongue, then added another.

Danny's fingers worked in a V formation, his tongue flicking at the rim of Sam's hole in between them. As he added the third finger and really started to stretch, Danny pulled back so he could watch how Sam's ass clenched down on him. Sam was moaning and thrusting backwards, chasing the brushes of Danny's fingertips against his prostate.

"I'm ready! Please, baby, fuck me, I'm so ready for you."

Danny stood up, keeping his fingers inside of Sam. "You want it? Gonna take me in, love me, hold me? Want you to," he said into Sam's ear, pumping his fingers hard and fast, the weight of his body the only thing holding Sam up against the wall. "Wanna be inside you, fuck you til you scream my name. Fuck, Sammy, so pretty, so sexy. Love you so much."

Danny removed his fingers, and Sam whimpered at the loss as he was turned around again. Sam wrapped his arms around Danny's neck, bringing his heaving chest against Danny's broader one and drawing him into a kiss. They kissed pationately, lips sliding against each other.

Sam pulled away with a gasp, letting Danny hitch him upwards so he could wrap his legs around him. Danny used one hand to guide himself inside of Sam below their connected hip bones, slowly easing the head in as Sam threw his head back and groaned.

They set a slow pace at first, Sam gripping Danny's shoulders nearly tight enough to break the bone. He moaned with his head thrown back, long column of his throat inviting Danny to suck hickeys onto the expanse of skin.

"Fuck! Faster Danny, c'mon an' do me good, honey..."

Danny grunted and sped up in compliance, effortlessly holding Sam up with one arm so that his other could run through Sam's lustrous hair. He snapped his hips, angling down just a little so that his cock rubbed at Sam's prostate.

"Danny! Oh, my god! DaaAANNNNNYYYY!" Sam shrieked, the name of his lover being pounded put of him and drawn out into a scream of intense pleasure.

Sam circled the head of his dick with his fingers, letting it gain the friction he needed to come from their moving stomachs. He orgasmed with the most beautiful expression Danny had ever seen on his face.

Danny fucked him through it, pistoning his hips right against his sweet spot and letting the rhythmic clenching take him over the edge, too.

"Ugnnn, Sam..."

They stood there - or, Danny stood there with his hands on Sam's ass and his mate's skinny legs hanging limp on either side of his hips, foreheads together. Sam panted against Danny's mouth, coming down from his orgasm with a blissed out, satisfied look on his face.

"I love you," Danny said to him, kissing his cheek tenderly.

"I love you too, so much," Sam replied, rubbing their noses together in a feline kiss.

Sam sighed when he got down from his perch on Danny's canted hips. They kissed again, soft and sweet this time, licking at the dried blood smeared across each other's mouths.

"C'mon, come lay down with me."

Danny took Sam's hand, let him lead them down the hall towards the giant memory foam king in the room to the left. Jake said it was ironic that they nearly maxed out a credit card on nice mattresses and bedding when they didn't sleep, but that didn't stop him from enjoying his own. Sam reminded him that there were other things one can do in a bed besides sleep, and that he'd definitely heard Jakey 'use' his mattress in that way.

Danny curled around Sam, wrapping his long limbs around him and pulling up their weighted comforter.

"Hey, why were you wearing a suit? Planning on going out?"

"Planning on *taking* you out," Sam corrected, noting the slight hint of not-quite-jealousy-not-quite-curiosity in Danny's voice. "I was thinking we could go to that nice German restaurant we drove past on Tuesday, I've been craving that schnitzel from the pub in Frankenmuth Village."

"You know it won't taste like it used to, Sammy, even if it was made by Herr Michels."

Sam sighed, "Yeah, I know. But, I still wanna go somewhere nice with you. Show off my man."

Danny laughed softly, tightening his arm around Sam's abdomen.

"Okay, we can go in a little bit. I wanna hold you first, though."

Sam rolled over in his arms, giving Danny an affectionate look. He kissed him, then rested his head on Danny's shoulder. They lay there, basked in the glow of the rising moon, not able to sleep but enjoying each other's company.

They were as connected as connected could be. No longer could anyone say that they weren't brothers, weren't related. They were blood brothers, blood lovers, soulmates for eternity. Their family would continue on in it's love forever.

#greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #sanny #samxdanny #slash fiction #fanfiction #fluff #smut #angst #hurt/comfort #alternate universe #my writing #lulucrowproductions #gvf #gretavanfleet #sam gvf #danny gvf #fanfic #gay smut #vampires #gvf slash #gvf fic

[lord-explosion-baku]

Immortal Servant pt. 2

Demon!Aizawa x witch!reader, demon!Dabi x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, kinda non consensual touching, suggestive themes, occult shit,

A/N: I said I’d return to this and I thought this request was kinda a good way to get into it??? It was kinda rushed but nobody’s perfect! Here are some boys.

Part 1

You flipped through the pages of your late aunt Wanda’s old grimoire in hopes of finding something, anything, that would help you get rid of the demon who was taking a siesta on your bed. It had been only two months since your immortal servant, Aizawa, has come into your life and you weren’t any closer to getting rid of him than the day you tried to beat him up with an umbrella.

It wasn’t all bad, having him around. He taught you a lot of about your magicks and how to harness the power that was laying in your belly or core or whatever. You asked him not to refer to it as your ‘core’ because that flustered you a bit. Aizawa said a lot of things that flustered you. It was annoying. But he helped you learn how to conjure and find lost items. “Baby steps,” is what he called them. You would complain because the first magical thing you’ve ever done, to your knowledge, was summoning Aizawa in the first place. Sure, it was by accident but you thought after doing that, the whole ‘baby steps’ thing seemed like bullshit Aizawa fed you so he could stay on this plane of existence for longer.

You had actually let your pursuit to get rid of him escape you for a hot minute. You let your guard down and started enjoying your time with him. You would make food, even though he could conjure up a meal with a snap of his fingers, and you would share it with him, noting what his favorite cuisine was. You would take him to coffee shops and when someone was especially rude to the barista, he would teach you how to enchant them and the two of you would cackle together when you made men in suits and grouchy old ladies cluck and bob their heads like chickens. You had too much fun with him!

The night before you decided to finally buckle down and teach yourself how to get rid of Aizawa was the night the two of you shared a bowl of popcorn while playing cards on your sofa. You shoved popcorn in his mouth when you got the upper hand and he accused you of cheating. You couldn’t ever beat him without cheating. He shoved his food right back into your mouth and while the two of you were laughing he scooted closer to you. He put his arm around you shoulder and opened his mouth so you could place one puff into his mouth and you mimicked his action. But your mouth wasn’t greeted again with popcorn. You were met with a kiss.

He didn’t taste like fire and brimstone like you imagined he would. He tasted sweet like grapes while his lips were salty from the popcorn and you… you liked it. So you kissed him back. Again and again until your legs were over his lap, your hips were rolling against him, and you were running your fingers through his soft black hair. It wasn’t until he ran his hands down to your sides that you pulled away and looked into his then red glowing eyes.

“Oh fuck no,” you whispered, getting off of him and the couch. “No,” you said again, louder, gathering the cards and shoving them messily back into the box. You grabbed the glass popcorn bowl and ran into the kitchen only to find Aizawa already standing by the sink. You jumped in surprise and dropped the bowl, the contents of it shattering across the kitchen floor. “God damn it!”

You grabbed a broom from out of the cabinet but the bowl was already back in tact in Aizawa’s hands. You groaned. “Stop that!”

Aizawa sighed and placed the bowl on you counter. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“I was going to sweep that up. I could’ve fixed it! I didn’t need you to do that!”

“Y/N…” he put his hands over yours before pulling the broom away. He was probably afraid you were going to beat him with it. “What’s really wrong?”

You breathed out. “You’re here too much!” You went to the sink and started washing dishes that were already clean. “You stare at me all the time. You’re… You do things that I don’t ask you to do!”

“It’s my job…”

“Well! You’re fired!” He scoffed at that. You turned around and glared at him. “I didn’t want you to kiss me!”

“No?” He made his way towards you and placed his hands on the counter, blocking you in. “Because you kissed me back.”

“Go away, Aizawa,” you growled.

“You don’t want me to go away.”

“You stupid fucking demon, you don’t know what I want!” You grabbed a glass and threw it on the floor and started using the broom to sweep it up. You knew it was ridiculous but you had to make a point.

“You’re right,” he said, stepping around the glass. “Yeah, you’re incredibly hard to read and it’s frustrating. The moment I think I understand you or think we’re getting on, you blow me away by doing something impulsive and rash that I often times do have to clean up for you and I don’t complain. I’m here to help you, to guide you into becoming a better witch. I want to help you. I like making things a little easier for you but if you want to act like a petulant child in return, then be my guest. Who am I to stop you? I’m just a stupid fucking demon.” Your heart sank. You didn’t mean to call him that. “If you need nothing else for tonight, I’ll be going to bed.” With that, he was gone.

You ended up spending the entire night trying to translate the grimoire. You thought you might’ve found something a few pages after the one you found the summoning spell for Aizawa. You weren’t great at translating Latin yet but it was for something along the lines of needing help for some unsolvable problem. The spell looked simple enough. It was a simple chant that you did and a pin prick of your finger.

As soon as the blood started to ooze from your the tip, Aizawa grabbed your wrist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re always telling me to study and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.” You yanked your hand back. “I’m finally getting shit done.”

“Blood is for summoning, Y/N! What did you read?”

“Something that’s gonna help me with my unsolvable problem!” You slammed your hand to the book. “You!”

“Stop-!” But it was too late. The book flew back and splayed open. Pages started to turn on their own and wide blue blast erupted from it. Turquoise flames swirled around your bedroom, your body warming up as the flames grew closer. Aizawa kept his arm in front of you like a mother protecting a child at an abrupt stop in a car.

The lights in the room flickered as a gleaming skeleton climbed out of the book, clawing at your carpet. The skeleton stood upright and you heard chuckling as the flames enveloped its form. Your mouth fell open when a man stepped out of the chaotic mess and the flames disappeared.

The demon wore a burnt jacket with a white low cut t-shirt revealing weird burnt looking skin that covered his muscular chest and his chin. It seemed to be stapled on to regular human looking flesh. Short black horns, not unlike the ones Aizawa had when he first appeared to you, protruded underneath black spiky hair. A dark grin crept across his face while his bright blue eyes looked you up and down. You shuddered and Aizawa stepped in between the two of you.

“This was a mistake,” Aizawa said. “We don’t need you here.”

The demon tilted his head at him. “Is that you Aizawa? My my, you don’t look a day over six thousand and three.” He took a step closer and his grin widened when you peaked over Aizawa’s shoulder. “Who’s the cutie you’ve got there?”

“Back off,” Aizawa said, pushing you away. “You can’t have her.” You realized then that you hadn’t seen Aizawa interact with anybody other than you and there he was, having a chat with another demon that he could have known since the beginning of time.

“Oh? You have domain over her soul? I can tell just by looking at her that she’s clean as a whistle. You slippin’, old friend?”

“Aizawa,” you whispered. “Who is that?” Aizawa frowned at you.

“Name’s Dabi. But you can call me,” he snickered, “anything you want.”

You figured right then and there that all demons were perverted and immoral bastards. “Get rid of him, Aizawa.” Your eyes flashed to the amused looking Dabi. “Please.”

Dabi clicked his tongue. “Ohhhhhh, you’re in the service business now, I see. How very unlike you. Well,” he clapped his hands together and the air around you seemed to get heavier, “I have a job to do here so why don’t you run off, Aizawa? Go clean the chimney or garden something.”

“Dabi is a lust demon, Y/N,” he sighed. “That unsolvable problem you read about in the book has nothing to do with me but everything to do with… your core.”

Your eyes widened. “Lust demon?? I didn’t want that! I-!”

“You dug your grave,” he cut you off and moved away from you. “Now, lay in it.”

Aizawa vanished, leaving you alone in a room with a thing that was looking at you like you were a piece of meat. How could he just leave you there like that? He was supposed to be your servant! He was supposed to be your friend!

“Aizawa!” You called for him. No answer. You ran for the door but the handle wouldn’t budge. “Aizawa, you asshole!!”

Stapled hands were over yours and you felt your tension ease up a bit. “Aren’t you just a doll,” the demon purred from behind you. You turned to the voice and you couldn’t help but be entranced by the shining turquoise eyes before you. “Y/N, was it?”

“Um, yeah. Listen, this is a misunderstanding. I was just trying to send Aizawa back to,” you gestured at the book on the floor, “where you both came from I guess?”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Is that so? So you don’t like being served? You don’t like having you every whim catered to?” With every word, his face moved closer to yours.

Heat rose in your cheeks. “Well, no- I just don’t know if I want to have him constantly, uhh…”

“You don’t have to explain to me, little witch. Aizawa might be a little too submissive for your liking.”

“Wha-? No! It’s not like that at all!” If anything it was the opposite. Aizawa never listened to you. You attempted to move away from him but he grabbed your wrist and you were shoved back against the door. “Hey!”

“You know, I think I might be able to help you- banish him that is. I’d just need something in return…” he took your arm and kissed the back of your wrist. A fervorous wave was sent through you from the contact. It took everything you had not to let out a sigh. What the hell?

“...what? You want my soul?”

You couldn’t get your body to move as Dabi’s hot lips trailed kisses from your shoulder to your neck. “Hardly,” he whispered, beginning to nibble on the shell of your ear. “You don’t need Aizawa to take care of you, do you?”

He placed a hand on the curve of your side and started to move it up. His touch was… so warm… enticing. “N-no,” you managed to stutter out.

“No,” he agreed, raking his fingers across your back. “No, when I’m through with you, you’ll know that you just need me, yeah?” His eyes met yours and he made a move for your lips but you turned your head. “Kiss me.”

“I meant no, don’t touch me!” you pushed him off of you and ran for your side table. You had jars full of herbs you bought from the market before you started growing them in your yard. You knew you had sage somewhere and that always seemed to keep Aizawa at a distance but you were only finding lavender and dillweed.

Long fingers knitted through your hair and you were pulled back into Dabi’s arms. He ran his fingers up your stomach and snickered, “you know, the longer you resist this, the harder it’s gonna be for me to control myself.”

That was controlling himself? You took back everything you ever said to Aizawa. He was a damn saint compared to Dabi. “Expollo,” you cried, trying to wriggle away from the demon. “Expello!” You didn’t know enough Latin...

Dabi tossed you onto your bed and the sheets began wrapping around your wrists. Dabi pulled at your shirt while his tongue ran over your breasts.

Your breathing was labored as you felt heat flood into your nether regions. Dabi was petting you through your sweats. He chuckled when your brows knitted together. “Say yes,” he commanded. “You want to,” he crawled on top of you and leveled his head with yours. “You want to so bad, it hurts.”

“Expello uhhh Dabi!”

“Say my name again. I like- ah!” Something hit Dabi’s back and he winced. Did you do that?

“Ab deme Touya huic domui,” Aizawa’s love voice echoed through the room. “Expelle decretum tenebris.”

There was another crash onto his back and Dabi seethed in response. He turned around and hissed something that sounded like Latin but backwards at Aizawa before the skin around his face started to flake away. He took one last look at you before evaporating into the air.

You unwound your arms from the sheets and sat up looking at Aizawa who was holding a glass full of herbs from your yard. “Where the hell did you run off to? You just left me with him!”

He held up the jar. “Gardening. Juniper and fern extract are great for on the go banishment spells.” Juniper and fern. “You’ve lost your grimoire privileges for like a week, by the way. He’s always been bad news and now you’ve got him running free.”

“He… Dabi where is he?”

“He’s around still,” Aizawa shrugged. “Not here but I’m positive he’ll be back. I’m gonna have to teach you how to wean off other pesky demons, aren't I?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out, still trying to analyze what had just went down. “You’re not stupid. I was just frustrated.”

“Frustrated, huh. That might be an understatement.” He grinned, “I’ve told you before that I know ways of getting your frustrations out. You’d never have to summon demon of lust again.”

You shook your head at his suggestion. “I wasn’t trying to do that. I was trying to-,”

“Get rid of me, yeah,” he rolled his eyes. He picked the grimoire up off the floor and brushed some residual ash away from it. “Now you won’t be able to do that. The moment he senses that I’m gone, he’ll be back and I doubt he’ll be as… kind to you while I’m away.”

How eerie. You kinda wished that your aunt warned you about the perverted demons you’d encounter in her will.

“You could always, I don’t know, show me how to send him back?”

Aizawa hummed and wrapped his hands around you. He kissed the top of your head. “Baby steps, Y/N.” It was supposed to be reassuring but your body was flushed and even though Dabi was gone for the time being, residual sensual energy was still pumping through your veins and you found yourself getting a little too excited by Aizawa’s embrace.

You cleared your throat and stepped away from him. “Um,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “I think I’m gonna order some pizza. Are you- uh… in the mood for pizza.”

Aizawa smirked as if he could see right through you. “Yeah,” he said. “Pizza sounds great.”

~

Ab deme Touya huic domui - Expel Touya from this house.

Expelle decretum tenebris - Banish this darkness.

~

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly -of-aly @rubyred-imagines 28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki i @geektastic84 @personoffangirlingandtears @glixeo @rubycubix @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

#demon!aizawa x reader #demon!aizawa #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #dabi x reader #demon!dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #mha x reader

[moodycastiel-writes]

sacrifice

summary: reader undertakes the trials to close the gates of hell in sam’s place. this is a little au that takes place during the season eight finale!

pairing: sister!reader and winchesters

warnings: angst. lots and lots of angst. foul language. y’know, the usual. there’s not a happy ending with this one. please don’t hate me (:

author’s note: i wasn’t originally going to write the confession, but i had a lot of ideas on how to establish a relationship between reader and the brothers, and i felt having her confess to her sins would make her more of an empathetic character. so yes, this is a small au that i had in mind where reader is sam & dean’s older sister who does the trials instead of sam. (((oh, also, cas does end up believing metatron and him and naomi kill metatron so the angels never fall.))) ((double also, crowley calls reader ‘fatale’, which is a rocky and bullwinkle reference, since he calls sam and dean moose and squirrel. just wanted to throw that out there in case anyone was confused to that reference!)) anywho, yeah, i hope y’all enjoy!!

——————————————————————————————————

You could hear your blood pounding in your ears as you stood at vestibule of the run-down church, your shaking hand loosely holding on to the can of red spray paint, eyes trained on the devil’s trap you painted. This was it. Everything that has happened this past year is finally coming to an end.

You let out an uneven breath as the doors opened gently, the heavy footsteps of your brothers approaching you with caution.

“Do you have him?” you asked, not bothering to lift your tired eyes to meet them.

“Yeah,” Sam spoke, a level of uncertainty to his voice. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I have to,” you answered, turning around curtly and brushing past Sam and Dean, leaving the church as you neared the Impala. It was only a few moments before they were both at your side again, the hot sun doing little to warm the permanent chill that settled into your soul when you first started the trials.

“We should get started,” you said, turning to Dean, “the sooner the better.”

Dean nodded his head and smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He opened the trunk and pulled out a handcuffed Crowley, completely at your disposal. Dean walked the demon into the church to get him ready, leaving you alone with Sam.

“How are you holding up?” he asked you as you grabbed the jar of holy oil from the back seat.

“Fine,” you responded, an unintentional iciness to your voice. “I’ll be better when this is all over.”

Dean walked back outside to meet you and Sam, wiping his hands on his pants. “Crowley’s all prepped and primed,” he turned to look at you, “How we feeling about this?”

“Honestly?” you asked, looking between your younger brothers, “Good. Better than what I have in a while. I think we’re finally going to win. This is all going to be over,” you sighed, a ghost of a smile appearing on your face for the first time in a long while.

Sam clapped a hand on your shoulder, but Dean cleared his throat behind you two. “All right, well, no dancing in the end zone until we're finished. What's the good father's playbook say now?”

You looked around the outside of the church eyes falling over the stained-glass windows. “Well... Now that we got the consecrated ground, I just, uh,” you cleared your throat, “I slip Crowley one dose of blood every hour for eight hours and seal the deal with a bloody-fist sandwich. That oughta do it.”

“Your blood's supposed to be purified, isn't it?” Dean remembered, “You ever, uh -- you ever done the ‘forgive me, father’ before?”

You shook your head, gaze dropping to the ground. “No, never. I have no idea what I should even say,” you admitted.

A thousand things were running through your head. All the countless times you’ve fucked up over the years. From the second your mother burned on the ceiling of Sam’s nursery to now, there was so many things you could confess. All the lies and betrayals, the murders and all the innocent people you’ve let die. Tears pricked your eyes, but you cleared your throat and blinked them away.

“Well, I could give you some suggestions,” Dean tried.

“O-okay, yeah. Sure,” anything could help.

“Alright,” he glanced at Sam, who had a disapproving look on his face. “Well, there was the whole siding with the demons thing. Or, um, ditching me when we were in Purgatory. Saying yes to Michael. Oh, also—”

“I get it!” you cut him off, not believing all the things he was currently throwing in your face. A wave of guilt washed over you, and an unsettling silence washed over you three.

“Well, we’re not getting any younger,” you finally said, passing Sam the jar of holy oil before making your way to the church.

“Hey!” Dean called after you, “Maybe open what you did to Penny Markle? In the sixth grade?”

You shot him a confused look, “That was you.”

Dean paused, the memory of what he did to poor Penny coming back to him. Clearing his throat, he waved you off. “Nevermind! Carry on.”

You rolled your eyes at him and made your way back into the church, closing the door behind you. You did you best to ignore Crowley’s eyes following your every move as you walked into the confession room, taking a seat on the bench.

“Okay,” you let out a shaky breath, “if anyone is listening, here we go.” You paused, your eyes screwing shut tightly. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” A cool blast of wind rushed by you, ruffling through your hair. You took it as a sign that someone, somewhere was listening, and continued on. “I have made a lot of mistakes. I have so many regrets, so many sins, that I don’t even know where to begin. I watched my brothers die, so many times, for what? To fulfill some stupid prophecy? I should have protected them. I—” you stumbled on your words, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

You wiped at your face and continued on. “I never should have let Dean sell his soul for Sam. It should have been me. I was supposed to do everything I could to protect those boys. If I just strapped on a pair, Dean never would have went to hell, and the seals never would have been broken. This is all my fault. I have to fix it.” The tears were falling freely down your face now, but you didn’t care enough to wipe them away. “I shouldn’t have let Sam ever say yes to Lucifer. I could have said yes. He never would have gone to Hell and lost his soul. It’s all on me.”

You took in another shaky breath, trying to calm down. “Leaving Dean alone in Purgatory… I don’t even know what I was thinking. I was so stupid,” you let out a humorless laugh. “I thought I was doing my best to protect him, but deep down I was trying to get away from him. From Sam. I caused so much pain in their lives, that it would be better if I just disappeared from their lives all together. 

“But those things I’ve confessed, those sins I’ve committed, they’re not even the icing on the cake. I have so many things just piling up that I could sit here forever, but I don’t have enough time. My greatest sin, the tip of the iceberg… What I want forgiveness from the most is how,” your voice broke as you choked back a sob. “My greatest sin is how many times I’ve let my brothers down.”

An ache settled in your chest as you confessed what you never thought you’d say out loud in a million years. Another breeze of wind brushed past you, and you took it as a sign that your confession was over. You wiped your face, leaving behind all the traces of your confession in that booth and stepped out, your guilt weighing on your soul heavier than before.

Crowley stared at you with a smug look on his face, no doubt he heard everything you had just said. Eyeing a roll of duct tape on the table with your gun, the needle, and holy water, you grabbed it and ripped a piece off, tightly taping the demon’s mouth shut.

“Not a word,” you sneered, walking out of the church. You saw Sam and Dean talking with Castiel at the Impala in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out what they were saying from the distance you were at, and crept closer to them to make something out.

“—You’re asking us to leave her, Cas. Now, if anybody needs a chaperone while doing all the heavy lifting, it’s [y/n]” you were able to make out from Dean’s whispering. His confession about you was like a slap in the face. Did he really not trust you that much? Thinking you needed a chaperone for everything you did?

“You should you,” you announced, startling your brothers. You knew Cas was aware of your presence, and did nothing to acknowledge him.

They turn to look at you, a guilty look on their faces. “Seriously,” you added, not wanting to continue this conversation.

“Yeah, and leave you alone with the King of Hell? Really?”

You frowned at Dean, not understanding why he can’t trust you to do this one thing. Did he really expect so little of you where he is always prepared for you to fuck up and need someone to clean up your mess?

“Yes, really,” you snapped. You ignored the look of hurt that crossed over his face. “You two can’t do anything to help me. This is on me. I think I can get through one little thing without fucking it up.”

“[Y/n], you know that’s not what this is about,” Sam said gently. “It’s not that we don’t trust you. We don’t trust Crowley.”

“Crowley is bound to where he sits,” you argued, “nothing, not even the king of Hell, can get through both a devil’s trap and the chains we have him in.”

“Fine,” Dean said, “Start the injections now. If we’re not back in eight hours, finish it, no questions, no hesitation.”

“Yeah,” was all you responded. Castiel placed a hand on each of your brother’s shoulders and with the flap of his wings he was gone, leaving you alone at the church. With a heavy sigh, you made your way back into the building, facing Crowley. His words to you were muffled under the duct tape, but that didn’t stop him from blabbing. With a roll of your eyes, you ripped the tape off of his mouth, ignoring his wince of pain.

“You really think injecting me with human blood is gonna make me human? Did you read that on the back of a cereal box?”

You ignored the demon as you picked up the needle, pushing it into the vein in your arm. You drew enough blood and slowly ejected it, and walked over to Crowley.

“Are you listening to me, brat?”

“Shut up,” you sneered, thrusting the needle into his neck. He howled in pain as you yanked the needle away.

“You're miles out of your league, kid,” Crowley barked at you as you turned your back on him.

“See you in an hour,” you called over your shoulder, walking to the table at the altar. Your arms began to glow that golden color that always appeared after you completed the trials. Why was it showing up now? You bit back your pain, your hands forming into tight fists, waiting for the pain to go away. When the light finally faded from your veins, you let out a breath of relief and sunk to the ground, your back resting against the altar. You looked up at the cracked statue of Jesus on the cross and closed your eyes, waiting for your watch to beep, signalling the next round of injections.

—————————————————————————————————————

When your watched finally beeped after an agonizingly long hour, your were up on your feet as fast as you could get, the needle already in your hand. You ejected more blood from your veins into the syringe and made your way back over to Crowley, who looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You ignored the look in his eyes and issued the second dose of injections into his neck. In the blink of an eye, Crowley’s head turned and his teeth sank into your forearm, hard enough to draw blood.

“What the fuck!” you exclaimed in pain, drawing your arm back and clutching the new wound in pain. You gave him an exasperated look before punching the demon across the face. “Seriously? Biting? What are we, five?”

You shook your head as you walked away from him, placing the needle back onto the table. You spared Crowley another bitch-face as you walked out of the church, slamming the door behind you. You walked to the trunk of the Impala and grabbed bandages to wrap up your arm. As you secured the bandages, your arms began to glow again, and you fell to the rubble on your knees.

“Stop it,” you groaned as the light grew brighter. “Please.”

Finally, the light faded again, leaving you struggling to get a grip on your breathing. With struggle, you turned your body to sit upright against the Impala, your head falling back, staring at the sky. The sun had begun to set in the distance, the sky painted with beautiful sparks of color.

“I can do this,” you whispered determined to yourself, “I can do this.”

—————————————————————————————————————

Another hour had passed by and you made your way back into the church, stuffing more bandages in your pocket before doing so. At the sound of the door opening and closing, you heard Crowley chuckle.

“How we doin’, Fatale? Ready for another round of injections?” he asked, a joyous tune to his voice. You ignored him and filled the syringe with another dose of your blood.

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes,” he began singing, you instantly recognizing the David Bowie song, “turn and face the strange. Ch-ch-changes, just gonna have to be a different man. Time may change me, but I can't trace—”

His singing was cut off by a loud sound, the church beginning to rumble. You quickly turned to face Crowley who seemed unfazed by the sudden shock to the church.

“What did you do?” you shouted at him over the sound of the quake. He remained stoic, but the hint of a devilish smirk rose to his face. The floorboards began to creak under your feet, a large crack running down until it severed the devil’s trap that you painted right down the center.

“Did you really think you could kidnap the King of Hell and no one was gonna notice, dumb nuts?”

An expression of fury and fear took over your features as the door to the church were ripped open, Abbadon revealing herself on the other side of the door.

“Now that’s what I call an entrance,” she gloated, patting herself on the back.

“Abbadon?” Crowley questioned. “They told me you were dead.”

“So not.”

“Where’s the rest of the cavalry?”

“It’s just little ol’ unkillable me,” she smirked. You turned quickly, reaching for your discarded gun, but with a wave of her hand, Abbadon sent you flying across the church and into the wall, your head slamming against the wood. You groaned as you landed on your stomach, your vision going blurry.

“Brilliant. Why send in a few grunts when you can send in a knight? Say your prayers, Fatale,” Crowley smirked. You tried to get up, but the Knight waved her hand again and sent you through the stained glass window to your right, immediately falling unconscious.

—————————————————————————————————————

When you came back to, it took you a minute to remember what had happened. You scrambled to your feet, hoping not a lot of time had passed in your impromptu siesta. Looking around for a weapon that you could use against Abbadon, your eyes settled on the jar of holy oil you had given to Sam. He must of left it for you, in cast of an emergency. You let out a silent thank you and patted your jacket pockets, striking gold when you felt your father’s lighter in your pocket.

You crept to the entrance of the church where the doors were still open and peered inside, eyes landing on Abbadon hovering over Crowley. You snuck inside, careful to step around any loose pieces of wood to prevent any unnecessary noises to alert your presence.

“Right now, you and I are going to talk about a regime change,” Abbadon said, crouching down to send another punch to Crowley’s face.

“You little whore,” he barked, “I am your king!”

She punched him again, this time hard enough to shut him up. When she went to stand back up, you ran forward and threw the holy oil over her body.

“Burn, bitch,” you spat, throwing the lighter on her. You watched with a smirk as her body lit up in flames and she screamed in pain as her vessel burned. Her mouth opened wide and she exited the body before any further harm was done to her, and she escaped the church in a flash of black smoke.

Without wasting any time, you made work of picking Crowley back up and fixing the chair so it was back in the devil’s trap. He groaned as he came back to consciousness, watching you with a glint of something… admiration, maybe? to his eyes.

“You did good back there, Fatale,” he congratulated you. “I'll deny it if you ever quote me, but I'm a proud man. I'm proud of you.”

You ignored his comment, instead focused on gabbing the can of spray paint you left on the table to fix the trap where it broke.

“Wait, what are you doing?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” you snapped, overly agitated at the events that had just transpired. You finished up the devil’s trap and threw the can to the side, it clattering to the ground noisily.

“Are you joking?” he asked, incredulously. “I just saved your life!”

“Seriously?” you dead-panned.

“Seriously? Me, seriously? We just shared a foxhole, you and I. We beat back the Tet Offensive, outrun the --the Rape of Nanking together! And still you're gonna do me like this?!”

You ignored his tangent and grabbed the needle, filling it up with your blood and jamming it into his neck before he could get another word in.

“Aah! Aah!” he exclaimed in pain, before a whole new emotion washed over him. “Band of Brothers? The Pacific?” he asked. “None of this means anything to you? All those motels, you never once watched HBO, not once?” You shook your head at him, confused at where he was going. “Girls? You're my Marnie, Fatale. A-and Hannah, she just—she needs to be loved. She deserves it. Don't we all—you, me; we deserve to be loved. I deserve to be loved!” he shouted, before lowering his voice back down to a whisper, “I just want to be loved.”

You cocked your head the the demon. “What?” you asked.

A confused look washed over him, and his expression mirrored yours. “What?”

As the moment of Crowley’s tangent passed, a wave of fatigue passed over you. The pain of where the needle was injecting into you suddenly took a toll on you. You walked back over to the table and placed it down, grabbing the spare bandages from your pocket. You wrapped where the puncture wounds were tightly, wishing right about now you had some extra strength tylenol. You took more blood from your opposite arm, wanted to be prepared for the next dose of injections just in case something else was going to happen.

“Would it be possible, Fatale, I’d like to ask you a favor,” Crowley spoke, his voice sounded drained and exhausted. “[Y/n], earlier you were confessing back there, and… well, I didn’t hear much, not really, so I’d like to know what you said.” You gave him a look that read ‘that’ll never happen.’ At the sight of your expression, he instantly clarified his statement. “ I only ask because, given my history...it raises the question... Where do I start...to even look for forgiveness? I mean…” he trailed off.

You paused, shocked at the revelation. The cure, it was working.

“You start with this.”

You held the needle out in your hand, showing him what you meant. Crowley tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck where the marks of the past injections were. You gently pushed the needle through at his submission, and unlike the past ones, he showed no signs of pain, but rather contentment.

“This is going to work, Crowley,” you reassured. “You’re going to be cured, and you’ll be redeemed. I promise.”

A gust of wind blasted through the church, and your arms began to glow again, but this time there was no pain. “We’re almost done,” you whispered, not sure Crowley even heard you. “It’s time.”

You took a deep breath and began the exorcism, the final piece to purify him. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, hanc animam redintegra, lustra.”

As you pulled your knife from its holder, the light grew brighter, and you sliced across your palm. You walked closer to Crowley, and as you were about to feed him your blood, footsteps barreled through the church.

“[Y/n]! Stop!,” you turned at the noise, coming face to face with the worried looks of your brothers. You backed up from them, your hip bumping into the arm of Crowley’s chair, a confused expression on your face.

“Easy there,” Sam coaxed gently, putting his hands up. “Take a deep breath.”

“There’s been a slight change of plans,” Dean said, slightly more aggressive than Sam.

“What? What’s going on?” you asked. “Where’s Cas?”

“Metatron lied,” Sam explained. “Him and Naomi are going to confront him.”

You shook your head at him, still not understanding what was going on.

“You finish these trials, you’re dead,” Dean said bluntly, trying to get you to understand what was happening. You looked between your two brothers, then back at Crowley. You scoffed and shook your head, looking back to face them.

“So?” you said, your voice slightly breaking.

Sam and Dean’s faces melted from worry to an emotion you couldn’t place, but it was somewhere along the lines of hurt and betrayal. Betrayal. Even now, after you’ve confessed and sought forgiveness, you were still letting your brothers down in ways you couldn’t stop. It had to stop. Finishing these trials with your death, it’ll all stop.

“Look at him!” you exclaimed, pointing down to Crowley. “Look at him! Look at how close we are! Other people will die if I don't finish this! Who cares about me?”

You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, but you ignored the sensation. Dean took a small step forward, his brow creasing. “Think about it. Think about what we know, huh? Pulling souls from hell, curing demons, hell, ganking a Hellhound! We have enough knowledge on our side to turn the tide here. But we can't do it without you.”

“You can barely do it with me,” you fired back immediately. The confused look on his face egged you to continue. “I mean, you think I screw up everything I try. You think I need a chaperone, remember?” you couldn’t help the single tear that fell from your eyes as your voice cracked on the last word.

Sam frowned. “That’s not what he meant—”

“No, that’s exactly what he meant!” you exclaimed, cutting him off. You let out a humorless chuckle. “You want to know what I confessed in there?” you asked, pointing to the confession booth with the hand that you didn’t cut. “Do you want to know what my ultimate sin was? The thing that held me down the most?”

When neither of them answered, you continued. “My greatest sin was—is— how many times I’ve let the two of you down. I can’t keep doing it. Not again. Finishing this, it’ll end it all.”

“[Y/N]—” Sam tried, but you continued talking.

You held back a sob as the tears finally began falling. “You two don’t trust me anymore, I can see it in the way you look at me. Like I need one of you with me at all times. You haven’t trusted me in a long time, and it took me awhile to realize it, but now that I have I feel so fucking stupid for not seeing it before.” Another humorless laugh escaped your lips.

“I know I’ll never earn your trust back, there’s nothing else I can do to prove that I love you both more than anything. You don’t see it, and I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of watching you guys turn to other people when you get sick of me.” At their confused expressions, you elaborated. “Who will it be next? Another demon? Another angel? Another vampire?” You shook your head.

“You have no idea what it feels like to see the two people you thought—”

“Hold on, hold on!” Dean cut you off, finally breaking you from your tangent.

“You seriously think that?” Sam questioned, taking a step forward to be back in-line with his brother. “Because none of it, none of it is true.”

“Listen, [Y/n],” Dean began, “I know we’ve had our disagreements, all of us, okay? Hell, I know I have said some really fucked up things to get you thinking the way you are but you need to understand… I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you.”

Your shoulders slumped at his confession, and the tears fell faster from your eyes. You looked between Sam and Dean, then down at your bleeding hand, and in a split second you made your decision. You turned and brought your hand up to Crowley’s mouth, and instantaneously you felt him drinking your blood. The pounding in your ears resumed, and you barely heard Sam shouting words of protest behind you.

You pulled your hand away, and the light erupted throughout your entire body. “Kah-nuh-ahm-dahr,” you whispered. Crowley let out a gasp, his eyes flicking to his demonic red, then faded completely back to his human eye color.

“It worked,” you laughed, turning to face your brothers. They looked at you with wide eyes, not daring to move. You had no time to celebrate your victory of the trials, instead a large rumbling echoed throughout the church, and the ground began to crack again.

This time, underneath the cracks in the ground, a hellish light peeked through, eating away at the floorboards. A hole opened up underneath your feet and you jumped back far enough to the edge, opposite of your brothers as your watched with wide eyes as black smoke broke through all the windows of the church, glass shattering everywhere. The sound of hundreds, if not thousands, of demons screamed as they were forced back into hell against their will. The wind picked up harshly and you were thrown back from the portal to hell, losing the sight of Sam and Dean through the smoke.

When every last demon was through the portal, it closed up tightly, no signs of what had just happened anywhere. When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, you looked across to your brothers, a smile creeping up on your face.

“I did it,” you whispered, pinching yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

Your heart hammered in your chest and you groaned at the pressure, stammering back an inch. Immediately, Sam and Dean were at your side as your legs began to give out, helping you to the ground. “I did it,” you repeated, your voice getting weaker, your eyelids becoming heavier.

“Yeah, [Y/N],” Sam sniffled, “you did it.” He gripped your hand tightly, squeezing it in his large one.

You smiled weakly up at him, using what little strength you had to squeeze his hand back. You looked to your other side to Dean, whose eyes were red-rimmed.

“I’m s-sorry,” you whispered at him, at the both of them.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Dean said, finally looking over your pale form.

“You have to… you have to promise me,” you croaked out, struggling to get out your final words. You coughed, doubling over as it overpowered you. Raising your free hand to your mouth, you coughed up blood into it. “No bringing me back,” you finally said. “I’m at peace.”

“You can’t ask us to do that,” Sam said. You turned to look back at him, smiling sadly at him. You grabbed Dean’s hand with your free hand, feeling your last breaths creep up on you. You could have sworn you’d seen a person standing over Sam’s shoulder, but they had disappeared before your vision could focus.

“I love you both, so much,” you whispered, you eyes falling shut. Your grip on your brothers’ hands loosened, and your chest stopped rising and falling. Your head lulled to the side, your body completely still.

You stood over your two brothers, holding your body in their arms as they wept for you. A cold hand rested on your shoulder, and you turned around with a gasp.

“Tessa,” you said, staring at the reaper.

“[Y/N],” she greeted, a welcoming smile on her face. “It’s time.”

You nodded your head and she stuck out her hand. You spared one last look at your baby brothers, and grabbed her hand in yours, your soul leaving Earth to face judgement. You did not know where you were going to end up, if your final quest was good enough to outweigh all the shit you’ve done in your life.

You knew that Sam and Dean would be okay. They always were without you.

#supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #supernaturalimagine #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #Sam Winchester #sam x reader #sister!reader

[nympsycho-ao3]

Tell Me What You Want

Want to read on AO3? Click here!

Rooming together in a dingy hostel in Singapore, Jotaro and Kakyoin settle in for the night after a full day of crusading. After some questionable choices on Kakyoin's end and Jotaro's incautious response, the pair end the night full of tension and regret. Yet, Kakyoin can't help but wake Jotaro up after he stirs in his sleep from a nightmare, leading to a night full of firsts for Kakyoin.

(Kakyoin and Jotaro engage in some rambunctious frotting before aggressive DomJotaro and PraiseKinkKak fucking [basically read the tags] and sharing their feelings for one another, with some filler fluff thrown in)

Jotaro’s ragged, canvas shoulder bag thumped against the stained floor of the Singaporean hostel room Joseph had managed to haggle down to an affordable price. He heard the light monsoon-season rain patter against a pitiful window draped by thin curtains, hardly blocking the aggressive lights of the adjacent metropolitan displays cutting the darkness of the night. Two beds, stingily dressed, filled most of the room’s space leaving little capacity for much else other than a small bedside table between them.

“What a shithole…” Jotaro chastised to himself, his voice barely a mumble overcoming his sore throat, exhausted from yelling and speaking more in the last three days than he was used to. He kicked off his shoes, not particularly caring where they ended up, before walking further into the room.

Kakyoin stepped over Jotaro’s bag, tempted to kick it out of the way but knew he would probably be murdered for it. The door closed behind him with a soft click. He carried his own bag past Jotaro, who inspected the bed closest to them, before placing it on the foot of the bed closest to the farthest wall. He reached up to brush his maroon hair from his face, not liking the sensation of it sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“Well, it’s only for a night,” Kakyoin reassured, reaching down to unzip his bag.

Jotaro perched on the side of the bed, moving his hand to grip his hat and unceremoniously remove it from his head before placing it on the pillow. A stray lock of black, curly hair bounced in front of his eyes, his gaze locked firmly on the dark carpet beneath his feet. He heard Kakyoin unscrew a bottle and take a drink from it before recapping it and placing it back in his bag. He realized he was thirsty, himself.

“Though I can’t believe that hotel didn’t have any rooms available,” Kakyoin continued. Jotaro heard him click the lamp on the nightstand on before shifting onto his bed, his head plopping against the pillow, a relief from the tension of fighting and riding in cars. Surely enough, as Jotaro turned to remove his jacket and lob it onto the bed next to him, he caught a glimpse of Kakyoin’s outstretched legs crossed at the ankles as he laid in his bed.

Jotaro, opting to say nothing and let out a sigh instead, rested his elbows on his knees. Star Platinum, materializing only for a moment from behind Jotaro, gripped Jotaro’s coat and hung it on a small hook across from Jotaro’s bed. He grabbed Jotaro’s bag and impassively brought it to his User, who took it from him and placed it on his bed. Rummaging through it, Jotaro retrieved a few supplies and indolently zipped his bag back up.

“I’m showering first,” he glowered, standing but not turning to acknowledge Kakyoin.

Kakyoin hummed in affirmation, not one to contend Jotaro when he had evidently made his mind up. Instead, he rested his clasped hands behind his head and rested his eyes, the small lamp on the bedside table emitting a dull light that was just too bright for his sun-scorched eyes. He heard the splattering of the shower’s water against the tub for only a moment before Jotaro closed the bathroom door and the sound became muffled.

Jotaro resented the dingy bathroom not because he felt he was too dignified, but because he’d been promised a room to himself by his grandfather on their way to Singapore. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Kakyoin, in fact he figured him more of a friend than anyone else, but Jotaro was looking forward to some solitude after this chaotic trip he’d embarked on. He’d never admit it to anybody, but he wanted some time to think, rest, and maybe read a bit before continuing their journey.

Yet he felt comfortable with Kakyoin there and was surprised to note that he may have preferred rooming with him rather than being alone. Maybe it was the shadiness of the hostel, but he felt more willing to have a roommate than usual. Perhaps he could find some time during the next branch of the trip to have a moment to himself.

The shower would have to do for now.

Jotaro stripped, his clothes draped carelessly over the porcelain sink. Stepping into the shower, water cool to contrast the intense heat he’d been battling all day, he let the water pour over his head and down his shoulders. His neck craned down, the water slicking his hair against the back of his neck. After a moment of contemplation, he opened his eyes and reached for his soap.

Kakyoin stared up at the ceiling above the bed, his lips lightly pursed in a fit of boredom. Physically exhausted, but not tired enough to sleep, he fidgeted with the buttons on his coat, sitting up to peel it from his shoulders and drape it against his bed. Noticing that the water’s noise against the tub had unmistakably been interrupted, he set about finding something to do. He had been woefully underprepared for the trip, barely having enough clean clothes to get through the trip. Normally, he’d have brought some books or something, but of course with extenuated circumstances he’d packed light. His gaze instead wanders to Jotaro’s bag, still situated on his bed. Not normally one to pry, Kakyoin wondered if Jotaro had anything interesting packed. He was sure he saw Jotaro rummaging around his bag during long car rides. Glancing once towards the closed bathroom door, he sent Hierophant Green to lightly grasp the zipper of his friend’s bag and slide it open. Beneath the expected change of clothes, pajamas, and cigarette boxes, he spotted a flash of shiny color. Intrigued, Hierophant’s inquisitive fingers carefully pried what seemed to be a magazine from between Jotaro’s clothes before carrying it to his User.

Kakyoin’s eyebrows raised in slight amusement. He’d have been less surprised with a porno mag than with what was before him right now.

Marine biology?

The magazine promised enticing articles about the population and ecology of seaweeds in the Pacific Ocean and ecologies of deep-sea hydrothermal vent communities. Kakyoin couldn’t help but grin, taken aback by the nature of his friend’s interests. Perhaps he had just found the magazine somewhere.

Either way, Kakyoin held the cover of the magazine backwards on itself, reading an article not particularly interesting to him yet better than nothing. He leaned against his pillow and the wall behind his bed, eyes scanning the vivid pictures of sea life that greeted him from the pages. Turning the page, he was amused to find something even more surprising than the magazine itself; scribbled notes and highlights marked the page, drawing interest to key points in the article. Kakyoin grinned widely, knowing for sure the messy handwriting was Jotaro’s.

The dry nature of the article seemed intriguing to Jotaro, if the questions written in margins had any indication. So he hadn’t just found the magazine somewhere. Jotaro Kujo, apparently, had a monthly subscription to The Journal of Marine Biology.

Kakyoin’s lids felt heavier with each word that he read. The dim illumination of the lamp behind him was barely enough light to read from, but was comfortable and relaxing. He found himself pulling the thin bedsheet over his legs, not soft, but pleasant enough. He didn’t understand most of the articles themselves, but found delight mostly in Jotaro’s notes.

How many were there before? In reference to a study on the declining population of a species of small crabs. Indeed, the article did not mention the original population.

 Why would they use that?

 Who conducted this study?

 When…

 Where…

~

Kakyoin’s eyes snapped open, startled, instinctively pulling out Hierophant with the sudden noise that ripped him from his sleep.

“What the fuck?” Jotaro thundered, yanking the magazine from Kakyoin’s chest with an apparent visceral disgust. With his other hand, he held up a raggedy towel around his hips. Kakyoin felt drops of cool water drip from Jotaro’s hair onto his lap from the sudden movement. If he wasn’t intimidating enough looming above the lounging Kakyoin, Star Platinum hovered above his back, a warning to Hierophant Green to not even dare.

“J-Jotaro,” Kakyoin huffed, meeting Jotaro’s dagger-like gaze with an almost regrettable quickness.

“You went through my shit?” Jotaro let the magazine flip closed, unbending it and flattening it.

“I—” Kakyoin paused. “I was bored.”

Jotaro let out a furious scoff before turning and lobbing the magazine on top of his bed. He turned back to Kakyoin, who had returned Hierophant Green and sheepishly looked up at the much-taller and very evidently angry Jotaro.

“I don’t fucking care. Don’t go through my shit.”

Kakyoin immediately felt guilty. He knew he’d crossed a silent boundary, one that he wasn’t sure they’d ever needed to verbalize but apparently so.

“I’m sorry.”

Jotaro’s furrowed brow remained tensed, cerulean eyes burning with a look that Kakyoin hadn’t seen in his friend’s eyes even in the most heated of battles. Not just anger, something else bloomed there, making Kakyoin feel two inches all. His hard features angled into a grimace, the stress in his face spreading to his neck and chest.

Kakyoin realized he’d never seen Jotaro without a shirt on before. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised with just how muscular Jotaro was, but he doggedly kept his eyes on Jotaro’s face. The last thing he needed was to piss him off even more checking him out.

Suddenly, Jotaro reached down with his free hand to grip the neckline of Kakyoin’s undershirt and pulled him close to his face. Kakyoin’s eyes widened as he felt the material strain against the back of his neck, letting out a surprised choke before gritting his teeth.

Jotaro opened his mouth so as to say something, but nothing came out. Kakyoin dared not say anything and did not break the fierce stare between he and Jotaro. He could feel Jotaro’s fuming breath on his throat, too close for comfort.

“Y-you’re hurting me,” Kakyoin uttered after a moment, the back of his neck burning.

Another moment, and Jotaro released. Kakyoin fell back onto the bed, bouncing slightly, gawking at Jotaro who finally broke eye contact. It was unlike Jotaro to be without some super cool one-liner after pulling a stunt like that.

Jotaro said nothing, only turning to return to his bag on his bed, reach inside, and retrieve his pajamas before entering the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

Kakyoin released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He deeply regretted snooping, unsure how to patch the ridge that his actions caused. He didn’t even remember following asleep. Gripping the bedsheet draped over him, he felt his heart rate slow and his adrenaline finally abate.

Jotaro emerged from the bathroom dressed in his pajama pants and t-shirt, composed, avoiding the look that Kakyoin gave him. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of him. Kakyoin wasn’t sure what to say as he reached over the bed to retrieve the magazine and stuff it haphazardly back into his bag, zip it back up, and drop it onto the floor on the side of the bed opposite of Kakyoin. Jotaro, mirroring his position from before his shower, planted his feet on the ground while sitting at the edge of his bed. He ran the towel through his hair, drying it, sending locks of hair dancing into curls around his face. He grasped the bill of his hat, moving it from the pillow, simply tossing it to the floor before laying on the bed and slumping his head into the pillow. His back turned to Kakyoin, he reached down to draw the blanket up over his shoulders. The damp towel lay haphazardly bundled next to his hat.

Kakyoin swallowed, wanting to say something but not knowing what. When they’d shared rooms before, they’d usually end the night by playing cards or discussing classes before turning out the light and, perhaps, even continuing the conversation in the dark. Such a stark contrast to tonight, he thought, and due to no one’s fault but his own.

“Jotaro,” Kakyoin tried, his voice not as strong as he had hoped it would be.

“Shut up,” Jotaro barked, almost interrupting him, “I’m trying to sleep.”

Kakyoin had no option but to obey. He didn’t press, only swung his legs to plant his feet on the floor and rose from the bed. He rummaged around his bag discreetly, collecting only what he needed. He took caution walking past Jotaro into the bathroom, not looking at him, and definitely not saying anything. The door shut behind him as silently as Kakyoin could manage, deadening the harsh noise of the shower’s water pounding into the tub beneath it.

~

Kakyoin took his time in the shower, relishing the barriers between he and Jotaro. He’d never done anything so stupid with a friend in his life. After a childhood rife with loneliness and ostracization, he’d almost gotten comfortable with never having a close friend in his life. Yet, just as he needed him the most, Jotaro had salvaged what little hope he had for friendship left. His friend’s coldness especially stung, having gotten a bit uncomfortably cocky in their relationship. He didn’t think Jotaro could get so angry at him, but didn’t know why he had stupidly assumed that. Perhaps his childhood, bereft of close-age friendships and typical adolescent dawdling, may have had a larger impact on his socialization than he was comfortable admitting.

He felt a particular, unaccustomed ache when he considered he may have had hopes for more than just a friendly relationship with Jotaro, as well. These feelings tinged his thoughts whenever he was with Jotaro, a perplexing sense of desire he’d never felt with anyone else before. Jotaro was just so different from anyone else in his life. He’d chalked the desire up to infatuation, deeming himself pathetic to grow so attached to someone simply showing basic decency and consideration.

Withdrawing from the bathroom, Kakyoin allowed the door to remain ajar as he carefully stepped past Jotaro. He couldn’t help but sneak a glance towards Jotaro, a decision he was prepared to regret.

To his relief, Jotaro’s eyes remained closed, his usually furrowed brow straightened in a rare moment of relaxation. Still on his side, his shoulders and chest rose and fell in perfect balance, slow and draggy. His left hand curled towards his face while his right dangled limply over the side of the bed. Still-wet black hair spread out on the pillow. The lackluster illumination from the lamp casted shadows of his eyelashes onto his cheeks, hardened features softened in sleepy felicity.

Kakyoin shook himself from his staring, knowing he was already in deep shit without getting caught doing whatever it was that he was doing. Walking over to the lamp, he switched it off, complete darkness interrupted by urban radiation filtering through the singular window. Kakyoin tucked himself into bed, turning his back to Jotaro, deciding he would dedicate himself to getting some rest before the expedition continued tomorrow.

~

Kakyoin roused from his sleep, at some point during the night turning onto his back and ruffling the sheet drawn over him. His eyes cracked open, the room oddly silent from the lack of rain pummeling the window.

Then, a sound.

Kakyoin’s brows came together for a moment, not sure if he had truly heard the quiet interruption to the silence.

Another.

Kakyoin was sure he’d heard it this time. A whine, low and grumbling, almost desperate sounding. He summoned Hierophant, a precaution against his first consideration that an enemy stand user was nearby.

He turned his head, scanning the room with the aid of the residual outside light. Nothing seemed out of ordinary, everything left just as it was before he’d drifted to sleep. Jotaro had also moved to his back, one arm resting over his abdomen and the other disappearing under his blanket.

Kakyoin returned Hierophant, though his nervousness heightened his reception to every change in shadow or flickering light.

“Stop…”

Kakyoin’s watchful eye snapped to Jotaro, who had let out a command in a similar tone to the helpless whine he’d heard before. He was doubtlessly still asleep, his eyes closed, but his brow appeared slightly crinkled. His chest rose and fell quickly, his arm bobbing with it. Kakyoin noticed movement from his feet, toes curling then extending against the resistance of the blanket.

Curious, Kakyoin fought the urge to return to sleep as he watched Jotaro start to squirm. It was so unbecoming and unusual for Jotaro to be seen this way. A touch of concern came over Kakyoin as his friend began to grind his teeth, the muscles of his jaw flexing and relaxing. He wondered if he was simply dreaming, or if something more sinister was coming over him.

With a heavy heave of his chest, Jotaro let out a much louder whimper, his growling, gritty voice making way for an almost childish outburst. The volume surprised Kakyoin, who jumped slightly in place yet remained a close watch on Jotaro. The muscles around his eyes began to twitch, his lips curling into a grimace around gritted teeth.

His index finger trembled for a moment before all returned to stillness, his face relaxing, his breathing slowing. Kakyoin felt a yawn bubbling within him, his eyes heavy. He closed his eyes once more, still facing Jotaro, the sheath of sleep overtaking him languidly.

“Fuck!” Jotaro exclaimed, voice muffled and slurring. Kakyoin felt adrenaline push the sleepiness from his mind with the outburst, eyes locked on his friend again.

Jotaro, a sheen of sweat enveloping his forehead, appeared more stressed than before. He groaned once before thrashing his head to the left, away from Kakyoin, his blanket caught in his tightly gripped fist.

Kakyoin swallowed. He wasn’t sure what Jotaro would want him to do in this situation. Glancing at the watch that Jotaro had placed on the bedside table, he estimated it was around three in the morning. He had already overstepped an unspoken boundary tonight, he definitely did not want to risk doing so again. Yet a primal anxiety built in his throat, choking him with concern and uncertainty. As Jotaro seesawed in his bed, Kakyoin debated his current choices and went with the most selfish decision, deciding he valued a few more hours of sleep as opposed to being continually awakened by Jotaro.

Kakyoin rose to his feet and closed the distance between he and Jotaro. He kneeled down on one knee, not wanting to shock Jotaro by looming over him as he had done to him earlier that night. As he watched him from up close, Kakyoin recognized just how much Jotaro was contending with himself. Behind clenched eyelids, his eyes zapped back and forth. His breathing was labored, a very soft groan escaping his lips every so often.

He admitted to himself for what felt like the hundredth time that Jotaro was really, really beautiful.

The best approach escaped Kakyoin. He had to wake him up, but how would he do it without pissing Jotaro off? Would he be pissed no matter what?

Kakyoin took a thoughtful breath before reaching up to place his hand on Jotaro’s forearm, outstretched on his abdomen. He gripped it lightly, then, after Jotaro didn’t seem to respond, began to shake him lightly.

“Jotaro… wake up,” he muttered, barely over a whisper. When Jotaro remained entranced in himself still, Kakyoin shook harder. “Jotaro.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Jotaro’s eyes flashed open and fixed onto Kakyoin. His face danced with the always-moving lights of the city, illuminating his stunned expression. He raised his arm to rub his face, clearing the sweat from his forehead.

“What?” he grumbled, his voice gritty with sleep.

“You were… dreaming,” Kakyoin elaborated. He remembered that his hand was lingering on Jotaro’s arm and hastily returned it to his side.

Jotaro rested the back of his hand on his forehead. Kakyoin was afraid he would start chastising him any moment now, sending him sulking back to his bed.

“Thanks,” Jotaro offered instead, opening his eyes to spare a glance to Kakyoin. He even gave him a small smile, before bringing the blanket to his face to dry the wetness that accumulated. He must have been aware of the dream he was having, Kakyoin thought.

Kakyoin listened to Jotaro’s newly calmed breathing, inwardly beaming that Jotaro wasn’t upset. He decided he’d push his luck, in the interest of helping his friend.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Kakyoin offered, his weight shifting from right to left.

He didn’t seriously expect Jotaro to take him up on the offer, instead he just wanted to extend a hand for the sentimentality of it. Jotaro paused, then brought the blanket back down to rest on his chest.

“Right now?” he asked, his voice softer than Kakyoin had been expecting.

“If you want,” Kakyoin crooned, not quite thinking before speaking. He didn’t expect to be asked that question.

Jotaro sighed, averting his gaze. “If you really give a shit.”

Kakyoin was incredulous. He tried to hide this as he shifted to a more comfortable position sitting on the floor.

“I’m willing to listen,” he tried his best to keep his tone smooth, comforting.

Jotaro gazed down at him with a look Kakyoin was not familiar with. Was this… fear?

“Come here,” Jotaro turned his head and patted the other side of his bed. “Unless that’s too weird.”

Kakyoin stood and approached the opposite side of the bed. He noticed Jotaro averted his gaze, staring at the end of the bed.

“It’s not weird to me,” Kakyoin perched on the bed, resting his back against the wall and sat cross-legged. He wasn’t sure what else to do or say, not expecting this reaction from Jotaro in the first place.

Jotaro cleared his throat, pulling himself further up on the bed to rest his back against the wall as well. The passing cars’ headlights lit up Jotaro’s face in strange, undulating patterns as he stared ahead of him, his features uncharacteristically benign.

“Sorry that I hurt you,” Jotaro began, fidgeting with his fingers. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Kakyoin knew Jotaro well enough to not be shocked at his apology. One way or another, Jotaro had a strong sense of justice, of right and wrong. If he believed he did something unjustly cruel, he wouldn’t hesitate to apologize.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry I—”

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just with… everything going on, I’m…” Jotaro interrupted, his eyes darting from one focus to the next. Silence filled the space between them after he drifted off.

“I understand,” Kakyoin reassured, watching Jotaro’s expression carefully. “Is that what your dream was about?”

Jotaro blinked, letting it linger for a moment longer than necessary. “I dreamed that you died.”

Kakyoin was taken aback. He wasn’t sure what to say. Sometimes, saying nothing is exactly what someone needs. Just being there, listening actively, is more therapeutic than prying further or offering benign platitudes. He knew Jotaro may have just needed a moment to parse his words.

“Well, you were killed. I just remember running to you. No matter what I did, I punched and yelled…” he trailed off again, quiet voice still with an edge of gruff as anger returned to him. “I was so close, but never close enough. I watched it. I watched you die.”

Kakyoin considered extending a palm to rest on his back, but decided against it. Silence, again.

“I—” Kakyoin stuttered. “I can see why you were so bothered.”

“Bothered?” Jotaro asked.

“You were calling out.”

Jotaro exhaled with a huff, his lips upturning in a small grin. “I woke you up.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it, though.”

Was he embarrassed? Jotaro had never been so open with Kakyoin before, especially not with a smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Jotaro sighed. “Which is a stupid fucking thing to say, since the last one to hurt you was me. And it was just a dream.”

Kakyoin let out a diminished laugh through his nose. “You think I didn’t deserve it, but I’d understand if you thought I did.”

“You kind of did,” Jotaro glanced towards Kakyoin, his tone more comical than Kakyoin was familiar with Jotaro being. “But we have enough shit going on, you don’t need me breaking your neck for reading a magazine.”

The quietness was interrupted by passing cars and irregular shouts from local night-dwellers.

“Marine biology?” Kakyoin raised a brow at Jotaro.

He rolled his eyes, inhaling sharply. “Shut up.”

“I’m not trying to make fun of you,” Kakyoin clarified. “I just didn’t know that you… were into that.”

Jotaro groaned to himself. “It’s just a hobby, I like… fish. And stuff.”

Kakyoin chuckled, the lightheartedness of the conversation refreshing after the tenseness of just moments before. Jotaro pushed his friend’s shoulder playfully.

“You can’t tell fucking anybody.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kakyoin grinned. Then, the upturn of his lips began to slowly deflate. “Could I actually be honest with you? About that?”

Jotaro was obviously skeptic. “I guess.”

“I think it’s really cool. You’re smarter than you let people know. You figured out that one article didn’t explain the baseline population of those crabs, and—”

“You read my notes, too?” Jotaro glared at Kakyoin.

“Uh—” he chuckled awkwardly, “Just a few…”

Jotaro groaned exasperatedly.

“I really liked them, honestly.”

Jotaro seemed taken aback by that. His frustration fell to reveal intrigue. “You’re smart, too. Aren’t you in the honors program? Teacher’s pet and all that.”

They shared a chuckle. “I try, only because I want to be accepted to a good school.”

Jotaro shifted in bed, pushing the blanket down to his feet. He turned to place his feet on the floor. “I get that. I’m thirsty as fuck, gonna go see if the sink water is drinkable or if I’ll get cholera.”

“You can have the rest of my water,” Kakyoin interjected. “It’s in my bag.”

Jotaro looked at Kakyoin, who summoned Hierophant Green and sent him to retrieve the bottle.

“If you really don’t give a shit,” Jotaro muttered, watching the Stand return to the pair and hold the water out for Jotaro to grab.

“I give a shit about you, there’s more water in the car anyway.”

Jotaro, back turned to Kakyoin, opened the bottle and took a drink. It soothed his throat, strained from dehydration and talking.

“You give a shit about me, huh?” he said slyly, recapping the bottle.

Kakyoin realized what he had said and felt his cheeks seep with heat. He hadn’t intended for it to come across that way, but he couldn’t honestly deny he cared deeply about him. Not entirely sure in what manner, and without knowing exactly how Jotaro had interpreted his words, he was choked by his own unease.

Jotaro wasn’t expecting Kakyoin to be stone-silent in response to his jest. Turning to meet his gaze, he paused when his friend’s eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed.

“Ah—uh…” Kakyoin stuttered, averting his eyes, “You’re a good friend, Jotaro.”

Jotaro hummed in response, straightening, uncapped the bottle, and finished the water.

“Is there more to it than that, Kakyoin?”

Kakyoin’s heart, already quickened, now rapidly beat through his chest. He could feel his breathing get heavier, his throat becoming drier with each breath.

“W-what do you mean?” he stammered, smiling in his nervousness, hoping it came across as indignance at the mere suggestion.

Jotaro placed the empty bottle on the bedside table before returning to rest the small of his back against his pillow. He glanced at Kakyoin, who avoided his eye contact.

“Nevermind.”

Kakyoin was unsure if he wanted to take this chance, right now, at some ungodly hour in the morning in Singapore, to tell Jotaro how he felt. Or, how he maybe felt. He didn’t know. Kakyoin felt a rush of frustration and confusion, yet at the same time, a heat rise from his gut into his throat that he’d never felt before. He felt Jotaro look away and check the time on the watch next to the bed, retrieving it before straightening his torso.

“Holy shit, it’s four—”

Jotaro was interrupted by Kakyoin pressing his lips onto the corner of his own in a chaste, quick kiss that ended sooner than it had began. Kakyoin fumbled awkwardly while balancing himself on one arm to get closer to Jotaro while Jotaro simply looked on, still holding the watch in his hand.

“I’m… sorry,” Kakyoin began to lean away from Jotaro, his voice shaking and almost too quiet to hear. He went to turn his head away, his lips agape, astonished that he’d done that.

Jotaro intercepted, a large, tender hand cupping the side of Kakyoin’s face. Before he could interpret what was happening, Jotaro turned Kakyoin’s face towards him and placed a more genuine, assertive kiss on his lips. Jotaro’s palm felt cool against his flushed skin, Jotaro’s breath on his cheek not helping. Kakyoin’s eyes felt glued open until he matched Jotaro in closing them. He reached up to grip Jotaro’s arm, his fingers finding stability in an incredibly unstable situation.

Jotaro broke the kiss, sensing Kakyoin wouldn’t do so any time soon.

“J-Jotaro…” Kakyoin’s eyes sprang back open, meeting Jotaro’s clear blue eyes just inches away from his own.

“Looks like you knew what I meant,” Jotaro jested, his hand falling from Kakyoin’s face.

Kakyoin stared wide-eyed with parted lips, still feeling the warmth and softness of Jotaro’s lips that were pressed against them moments go. “You…”

“I’m no expert on this shit,” Jotaro muttered.

“N-neither…”

Kakyoin debated telling Jotaro that the kiss they shared was the first he’d ever had, and the feelings he felt now were so brand new he didn’t know how he could even handle them. Jotaro looked so collected and cool, but he noticed the apples of his cheeks beginning to redden.

Overstimulated and overwhelmed, one of the only sensations keeping Kakyoin grounded was a tightness in his groin.

“How long have you felt it?” Jotaro asked breathily, moving to decrease the distance between their bodies.

“S-Since the plane to Hong Kong,” Kakyoin admitted, feeling Jotaro’s hand rest on his thigh, warm and robust.

“Me too,” Jotaro smiled. “Watching you take down Tower of Grey…”

“How did you know?” Kakyoin asked, the praise exciting him unexpectedly.

“That you liked me? You’re not very good at hiding it.”

Kakyoin felt his face flush even hotter than it already was, questioning all the times he’d lingered on a gaze too long, showed a bit too much concern for his well-being, or stumbled over his words.

Kakyoin had never in a million years considered that this was the way he would be sharing his feelings. He especially had never anticipated that Jotaro felt the same way. He felt his cock push against his pajamas for a moment, hearing Jotaro praise him and his Hierophant and still relishing the feeling of Jotaro’s lips on his.

Jotaro suddenly closed the distance between them, their chests pressing together with Jotaro’s face buried in Kakyoin’s neck. He smelled so good, still freshly showered, the same scent that lingered in the steam of the shower. Kakyoin felt Jotaro drag an index finger across the redness on the back of his neck from their altercation. Kakyoin gripped at Jotaro’s shoulder, the heat pooling in his gut getting uncomfortable, his breath feeling impossibly hot. Jotaro placed his palm against the small of Jotaro’s back instead of on his thigh, supporting him.

“What did you have in mind, kissing me like that?” Jotaro dragged his lips behind Kakyoin’s ear, the sensation sending sparks down his spine that pooled in his cock. Kissing him along the way, Jotaro rested his lips at his collarbone, awaiting a response.

Kakyoin had to let go of the fear of judgement if he was going to be honest with Jotaro. “I want to kiss you more.”

Jotaro understood, placing a gentle kiss on Kakyoin’s collarbone before rising. “Lay down.”

Kakyoin fumbled as he complied, his legs barely cooperating under the weight of the situation. Jotaro poised himself over Kakyoin, supporting himself with his elbows on either side of Kakyoin’s head. One of Jotaro’s leg’s pried between Kakyoin’s knees, insisting itself there before Kakyoin even realized he couldn’t close his legs.

Kakyoin’s cheeks burned with heat as Jotaro placed tender kisses along his cheekbone, feeling a sense of disbelieving vertigo cloud his mind as he gripped the back of Jotaro’s shirt, loose fabric balling in his lax fist.

“Just from kissing?” Jotaro mused, his knee grinding against Kakyoin’s inner thigh, obviously alluding to Kakyoin’s hard cock constrained by his pants. Kakyoin’s jaw flexed, Jotaro feeling the muscle tense beneath his lips.

“I-it’s—” Kakyoin babbled, his grip on the situation still not as grounded as he would be more comfortable with.

He was surprised when Jotaro’s face hovered over his own, so close. He pecked his lips, barely touching them, making Kakyoin let out a pursed whine involuntarily.

“Well, you kissed me more,” Jotaro’s lips turned into a muted devilish smirk.

Kakyoin’s heavy-lidded eyes looked up at the mischievous expression Jotaro wielded, eyes searching for answers to a question he wasn’t quite able to discern.

“N-not like that,” he crooned, seeking more apt words but resigning when they never came.

“How, then?” Jotaro was nearly purring, rasping his knee harder against Kakyoin’s thigh. So close, yet so far, Kakyoin’s hips bucked, yet Jotaro kept his knee just far enough away to keep driving Kakyoin crazy.

“How do you want me to kiss you?” he repeated, forcing Kakyoin’s attention away from his knee.

“M-more,” he breathed, almost frustrated now.

“More what?” Jotaro teased in return.

Kakyoin pursed his lips for a moment before thrusting his lips onto Jotaro’s, neck craning, a slight burn reminding him of the redness there. He pressed, indignant against the soft pecks Jotaro teased him with, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of Jotaro’s neck. Jotaro thrummed into the kiss, a long note of approval exciting Kakyoin with the implications. He never thought he’d be doing this with Jotaro in the first place, and he was especially startled by how much he craved Jotaro’s approval, how much he needed to know he was enjoying this too.

Jotaro pressed his tongue against Kakyoin’s lips, begging to part ways. He gripped the hair on the back of Kakyoin’s head, yanking it backwards in a sudden jerk, causing Kakyoin’s eyes to snap open and his voice to hitch in a breathy cry.

“O-ow,” he uttered between the hot breaths of parted lips. Jotaro seemingly paid no mind and deepened the kiss, tongue rubbing against Kakyoin’s, a sensation he’d not expected to enjoy so much. Kakyoin’s brow furrowed, his eyes caught in the waves of Jotaro’s hair. His hand drifted from Jotaro’s neck to the space between his shoulder blades, feeling the breadth of muscles in his back. His hair in Jotaro’s fist kept him pinned in position as Jotaro broke the kiss, a string of saliva sticking to Kakyoin’s chin as he drifted downwards, again kissing his neck in a row of aggressive caresses.

Kakyoin’s cock felt choked in his pants, wetness accumulating in a small spot at the tip. He reached down to adjust, move, do anything really, feeling the pressure ache deeply at the root of his cock. He pulled on his pant leg, thankfully adjusting it just enough to relieve some of the tension.

Kakyoin’s head thumped back onto the pillow after Jotaro released his grip on his hair, the soreness in his neck easing away. Jotaro rocked back onto his knees, the sudden absence of pressure from his chest allowing Kakyoin to take a full breath that he didn’t know he desperately needed. Jotaro rested on his calves, Kakyoin’s legs splayed to either side of him, lazily bunching the bedsheets to his feet. The tenting in Kakyoin’s cream-colored pants was stark against Jotaro’s black shirt, Kakyoin’s eyes transfixed on the sight.

“Are you touching yourself?” Jotaro sneered, placing his hands on Kakyoin’s sides, thumbs rubbing at the flexed muscles there. He edged the hem of his shirt over his abdomen, reaching up to rest warm hands on even warmer skin.

“M-my pants,” Kakyoin huffed, his gaze falling to look at Jotaro’s hands, seemingly dwarfing his body under them. Jotaro had always been much taller than Kakyoin, wider, more commanding, but Kakyoin hadn’t thought about how large his hands must be.

“Want them off?” Jotaro slid one hand to hook the waistband with his thumb. He felt a budding patch of coarse hair, just barely, under the pressure of his thumb.

Kakyoin hesitated. He’d never been so exposed to anyone before. Yet the creeping throb of his cock against his pants seemed to speak for him, his head nodding almost erratically.

Jotaro clutched Kakyoin’s left leg, bringing it to the other side of him. He moved Kakyoin’s legs up onto his shoulder, his feet dangling behind his head. Kakyoin blushed, noticing exactly how large Jotaro’s arms were, now. He lazily pulled the waistband downward until Kakyoin’s cock sprang up to his navel, a short, relieved sigh escaping his lips at his finally-freed cock.

“Your shirt,” Jotaro mumbled, pulling the pants upwards over Kakyoin’s stretched legs. With a thud, his pants landed next to the bed, Jotaro not considering wherever they ended up. He returned Kakyoin’s leg to his opposite side, stroking his thighs gently as his knees bent to encapsulate Jotaro around them as he remained laying on his back. Kakyoin’s thighs draped over Jotaro’s, his cock bare and thankfully free.

Kakyoin obeyed, arms crossing to remove his shirt as he arched onto his ass to provide leverage. Jotaro watched as Kakyoin’s slender build maneuvered the task, Kakyoin finally tossing his shirt to the floor and relaxing his back.

“You too,” Kakyoin whispered, his gaze meeting Jotaro’s, questioning if he must’ve liked what he saw. Not usually one for self-consciousness, Kakyoin suddenly felt very appropriately exposed, an unfamiliar anxiety overtaking him.

“Is that what you want?” Jotaro explored, his fingers still dancing on Kakyoin’s inner thighs as they were propped against his own. The sensation began to drive Kakyoin crazy.

“Yes,” he hissed, his eyes dancing around Jotaro’s chest and arms.

“Tell me, then, what you want,” Jotaro insisted.

“I want you to take off your shirt,” Kakyoin felt embarrassed just saying it, his voice quivering.

Jotaro suspended his ministrations on Kakyoin’s thighs to reach up and uncover his chest from beneath his shirt. Kakyoin admired the way his muscles stretched and his hair bounced in front of his forehead as he pulled his shirt up over his head and casually tossed it to the floor.

Jotaro spared a glance towards Kakyoin’s firm cock, returning his hands to rest over Kakyoin’s iliac crests, accentuated by the compromising position he found himself in.

“Is there anything else you want?” Jotaro gazed down at his lover, icy eyes glistening in the dim early morning light as sunrise would peek over the horizon any moment now.

Kakyoin’s cock twitched at Jotaro’s hold over him, his voice, the view of Jotaro so easily overshadowing him with that irresistible air of coolness. “My…”

He reached down to grasp the base his cock, the contact almost too much after such prolonged touch-starved stimulation.

“If you just want to jerk off, I can leave you to it,” Jotaro’s even, hushed tone still booming in Kakyoin’s ears.

“No,” he groaned, the air of desperation in his voice sending jolts to Jotaro’s half-hard cock. “I want you…”

Jotaro let Kakyoin take a breath, thumbs tracing his hip, feeling his thigh muscles flex and relax. He released the grip on his cock, instead gripping the bed sheets beside him.

“Could you…”

Jotaro grinned, watching Kakyoin squirm under his own discomfort. He trailed off, his hand raising to palm his own face, covering his eyes with the back of his hand for a moment, relishing the pressure.

Kakyoin’s hips bucked with the sudden contact of Jotaro running a finger up the underside of his shaft, petting the soft skin under his head. He relished the sharp intake of breath that Kakyoin offered, noticing his hand now remained plastered against his forehead.

“Could I what?” Jotaro pried, a singular finger stroking the hardest part of Kakyoin’s erection too slowly.

Kakyoin writhed under Jotaro’s touch. His demure demeanor suffocated whatever words he’d wanted to say.

Jotaro scoffed. “Good grief…” he withdrew his hand from Kakyoin’s cock. “You’re hopeless.”

Kakyoin almost feared Jotaro would rescind his offer of intimacy but was reassured when he watched him reach into his pajama bottoms to pull out his cock, half-hard yet still larger than Kakyoin’s. Kakyoin’s eyes widened at the sight, running his hand through his hair to unstick it from his forehead.

Jotaro leaned his cock into Kakyoin’s, stretching his grip to accommodate both of them as he held them at their bases. Kakyoin’s lips parted to make way for a lustful groan, his back arching slightly to meet Jotaro’s touch, feeling the tip of his head rub against the edge of Jotaro’s.

It was almost magical feeling Jotaro’s cock harden against Kakyoin’s, his hand stroking the both of them while holding them together. Jotaro’s jaw clenched, the friction and warmth from Kakyoin’s cock combined with his gasps and moans emboldening him. He grinded his hips towards the man under him, their balls smoothed against each other, Jotaro’s shaft pressing on the sensitive part under Kakyoin’s head on the underside of his cock. Kakyoin writhed, his hands gripping the bedsheets by his side, seeking any sort of grounding that he could find.

Jotaro was too far away, Kakyoin thought to himself, gripping Jotaro’s knees with sweaty palms. His eyes clenched shut, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Jotaro…” he groaned, eyes peering open to gaze longingly at him, “I want…”

“What do you want?” his ministrations picked up in pace, prompting a moan from Kakyoin.

“I want you to be closer… to me,” he breathed, his fingers digging into Jotaro’s knees.

Jotaro smirked, drawing out a long, tight stroke before releasing and gripping Kakyoin’s leg instead, widening the breadth between his legs. He lowered himself down on Kakyoin, their chests pressing together briefly before Jotaro balanced himself on his elbows once more. Kakyoin closed his eyes with the sensation of Jotaro’s warm body against his, wrapping his arms around his wide, solid back.

Jotaro’s hips slid his cock against Kakyoin’s again, this time the friction between their bellies pressing them together. Kakyoin felt the muscles in Jotaro’s back flex with each thrust.

To Kakyoin’s surprised delight, with Jotaro’s face buried in the pillow next to him, he was able to hear his subdued groans with each thrust. He felt his hair tickle his face, sticking to his sweaty skin. Jotaro’s brow, barely visible, was unsurprisingly furrowed, his eyes pursed shut.

Lustful fire burned in Kakyoin’s lower abdomen, not just because of Jotaro’s sparse hair that decorated the area around his umbilicus. He clawed at Jotaro’s back, his hips gyrating to meet his thrusts. He’d never anticipated he’d ever be doing anything like this with Jotaro, especially not now. A voracious thirst overcame his mind, pushing all his doubts and thoughts away, leaving him only with a searing tickle that crept from his gut to his fingers and toes. He felt all of Jotaro’s weight on his cock, the sensation too much.

“J-Jotaro—” he craned his face into Jotaro’s shoulder, lips pressed against the abundant muscle there.

When Jotaro’s head rubbed against Kakyoin’s sensitive point in a rough stroke, Kakyoin felt his threshold breach with a final buck of his hips. He came, tendrils of cum spurting onto his chest, a sharp moan escaping his throat. Jotaro’s gravelly groan of approval warmed the side of his neck.

“Could have warned me,” Jotaro mewled.

“So—”

“Don’t apologize.”

Kakyoin couldn’t come up with anything to say, his mind blank, struck with post-orgasm vacancy. He didn’t even protest when Jotaro lifted himself up and rocked back onto his knees, revealing Kakyoin’s softening cock and heaving chest.

“How did that feel?” Jotaro asked, his hands winding swirling patterns on Kakyoin’s inner thighs.

“Amazing,” Kakyoin huffed, blurting the first thing that came to his mind, incidentally the only thing that came to his mind. He felt his heart beat slow in his chest as he relaxed, the peak of his orgasm leaving him lethargic.

“Kakyoin,” Jotaro murmured, gaining Kakyoin’s sudden attention.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he commanded, his boldness eliciting a twitch from Kakyoin’s diminishing erection. “Have you ever done it before?”

Kakyoin gave a weak shake of his head, still groggy. Jotaro gripped his thigh and closed his legs together, shifting his weight to the end of the bed. Kakyoin’s leg muscles were soothed by the regained mobility after being held in one place for too long as he stretched them. He felt the cool dampness in the sheets where Jotaro must’ve been sweating. The cum on his chest glistened in the neon lighting from beyond the window, and Kakyoin went to clean it off with his hand.

“Leave it,” Jotaro ordered. He dropped his hand, thudding it softly against the mattress.

Jotaro sighed, his own exhaustion suddenly apparent to Kakyoin; his tiredness maintained secondary to his profoundly hard cock, bumping against his abdomen. He leaned closer to Kakyoin, his hand dipping into the puddle of cum on his chest, coating his fingers. Kakyoin furrowed his brow in confusion, but didn’t have time to question his actions before Jotaro’s grizzly voice pierced the quietness.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Kakyoin had always been excited by the thought of sex, but in his lonely upbringing had resigned himself to only fantasies. He’d masturbated plenty, yet never explored his ass, not knowing the intricacies and figuring it superfluous.

“I’m—I’m not sure…” Kakyoin crunched upward, big violet eyes peering doe-eyes at Jotaro. Was he really able to maintain such a position? The idea made him uncomfortable.

“You’ll be fine,” Jotaro reassured. “I’ll make sure.”

Kakyoin wasn’t sure how to bring up the fact that he merely felt self-conscious, knowing that Jotaro wouldn’t hurt him… too much. Yet he complied, planting his palms into the blankets and raising his ass into the air, a pensive grimace gracing his face.

Jotaro moved behind him, a dry hand pressing on the top of Kakyoin’s back. “Good grief… bend your back.”

After a rough push, Kakyoin’s chest fell to the bed, his head turning to let them breathe after it was pushed into the pillow. He felt Jotaro’s palm slide to the small of his back, where it pressed there more gently, angling his ass farther upward.

He felt extraordinarily exposed.

His self-consciousness was interrupted by a cold harshness against his entrance, Jotaro’s cum-slicked finger having cooled before it quickly warmed from Kakyoin’s body heat. He let out a breathy yelp at the surprise, feeling no less discomfort when Jotaro’s fingers began to circle him. Kakyoin’s fingers gripped the sheets around him, his legs feeling weak and shaky.

“You have to relax,” Jotaro’s voice was more blunted than before. Kakyoin looked back to Jotaro, catching his authoritative gaze. “Take a breath.”

Kakyoin did as he was told, apparently not to Jotaro’s commendation; he continued to circle Kakyoin with increasingly impatient fingers. “You look fine, Kakyoin.”

Kakyoin’s eyes widened. Had he read his mind?

“You look great, actually. Just relax.”

Kakyoin gave it his best effort, relaxing his muscles starting at his thighs. He let out a long breath, his gaze averting from Jotaro’s.

Kakyoin gasped when he felt Jotaro insert his index finger, sending a rush of pain through him. Jotaro felt him tighten around his finger in protest. He pushed his second knuckle in, stopping there.

“Relax, I promise it feels good,” Jotaro comforted, rubbing Kakyoin’s lower back with his free hand.

“You should have told me,” Kakyoin whined, still feeling the invasiveness of Jotaro’s finger even as it laid still.

“You’re right,” he admitted, looking down at Kakyoin’s straining features of his face. “I’m gonna keep going. You have to relax.”

Kakyoin gave it his best effort, and when Jotaro felt him loosen, he advanced further. Kakyoin felt the end of his knuckle pressing against him, then the absence of it when Jotaro’s finger withdrew.

“You’ve never even done this to yourself?”

“N-No,” Kakyoin said into the pillow, adjusting to the subsiding pain and the alien feeling of pressure that replaced it.

Jotaro grinned, but Kakyoin didn’t see it. Jotaro began to pump slowly, his fingers slicked by Kakyoin’s cum and meeting less resistance with each advancement into Kakyoin. He let out small gasps every so often, the pressure from Jotaro’s finger pushing out his breaths each time he slid it further in.

Kakyoin didn’t see Jotaro’s mischievous simper, his eyes clamped shut and half his face in the pillow. Jotaro changed the angle of his finger, curling it downwards towards Kakyoin’s belly. As he dragged his finger out, Kakyoin’s toes curled and back arched when he felt an intense pleasure from deep within his pelvis. He smoothed his back when Jotaro coaxed it with his hand. Jotaro hit the same spot again as he pushed in, then again when he pulled back. Kakyoin groaned, his grip on the bedsheets turning his knuckles white.

“Do you like that?” Jotaro asked, relishing in Kakyoin’s reactions.

Kakyoin only nodded his head against the pillow, disheveling his hair more than it already was.

“What do you like?”

“I like when you… touch that spot.”

Jotaro continued, speeding up after Kakyoin’s approval. His cock remained rock hard, almost beginning to ache as it leaked precum into a bead at his head. Kakyoin felt drool seep from the corner of his mouth, agape.

“I’m gonna put another one in,” Jotaro warned before stretching Kakyoin’s hole with the addition of his middle finger. Kakyoin grit his teeth, lips still parted, eyes hazy and glazed. He moaned in response, the extra digit pressing on his sensitive prostate.

Jotaro pumped slowly, each drag eliciting a delicious reverberation from Kakyoin’s body.

“M-more,” Kakyoin uttered, the pillow muffling his words yet Jotaro heard loud and clear.

“Hm?”

Kakyoin whined, nodding his head into the pillow.

“Tell me what you want,” his pace quickening, Kakyoin’s dangling cock swaying with the impact.

“I want more!” Kakyoin exclaimed, louder than Jotaro expected. Was he getting frustrated? The feeling was mutual, Jotaro’s balls beginning to pang with neediness.

Jotaro withdrew his fingers slowly, humming in approval. Kakyoin’s eyes opened, the lack of stimulation starkly disappointing to his most primal senses.

Jotaro gripped Kakyoin’s hip firmly, indenting the soft flesh beneath his fingers. With the other hand, he aligned his cock to Kakyoin’s hole, the warmth extremely gratifying to his desperation for touch. He sent a string of spit down onto the head of his cock, spreading it across Kakyoin’s hole.

“What do you want?” Jotaro managed to contain himself as he coaxed Kakyoin.

“I… want you to fuck me…” he answered, blushing at the sound of the words coming out of his mouth.

Jotaro pushed against Kakyoin’s hole, prying him open to accept his head. Kakyoin’s mouth lay agape, no noise able to escape the tension straining his throat shut. He flexed his toes against the blankets he found them entwined in.

“Relax.”

Kakyoin felt Jotaro’s thighs against the inside of his own as he released the breath he had been holding. Sweat budded at his temples. He released the tightness he found in his abdomen, taking a deep breath in, then out.

“Good.”

Kakyoin didn’t expect to be so excited by praise.

Jotaro pushed in further, managing to fit his head inside. He let out a lecherous grunt, his eyes focusing on the joining of him and Kakyoin, intensely aroused by the sight. He had to resist the urge to pound himself into Kakyoin, remembering he was still so new. Instead, he pushed in further, putting pressure on Kakyoin’s lower back when he tried to arch in resistance.

When he fit half of his cock inside, he slowly drew back with a moan. Kakyoin shivered at the movement, his eyes rolling briefly before closing.

Jotaro growled, his head nearly exposed to open air before he thrusted forward abruptly. Kakyoin nearly yelped, though remained relaxed, the sudden pressure forcing its way past his prostate in a rush of electric sensation. Jotaro didn’t bother telling Kakyoin what to expect as he drove the entire length of his cock flush with his ass, wringing a strained whine out of Kakyoin. He felt Jotaro’s balls press against his taint, a sensation he’d not known would be so enticing. His thighs jerked together before Jotaro’s knee jammed its way between them, keeping them open, ready to accept.

“J-Jot—”

“I know.”

Jotaro would have felt guilty if his mind wasn’t clouded by lust and frustration. He maintained as much control as his body would allow him to, the warmth of Kakyoin’s ass making him cross a line he normally wouldn’t even toe.

Kakyoin felt a sense of dejection, only for it to be obfuscated when Jotaro dragged his cock out again. Jotaro paused, then. He moved to hover over Kakyoin, his back arched like a big cat who’d just captured its prey. The pressure on Kakyoin’s back was almost painful as Jotaro’s hips pushed his own forward.

Jotaro swiftly gripped Kakyoin’s wrist with an outstretched arm and yanked him upward, the side of his face that was previously planted into the pillow greeted with the cooler air of the hostel room. The pair straightened, balanced on their knees, the back of Kakyoin’s shoulders pressing against Jotaro’s chest. Jotaro’s other hand snaked up to Kakyoin’s neck, wrapping his fingers around the delicate skin there. He felt Kakyoin’s throat bob under his palm as he swallowed, the strong pulse of his carotid on his fingers.

“Jotaro!” Kakyoin exclaimed, incensed at the sudden, rough movement.

Jotaro responded by burying his face in Kakyoin’s hair, kissing roughly at his neck. His grip on Kakyoin’s wrist didn’t lessen, keeping him in place as he rocked backwards, drawing out his cock slowly.

“I’m sorry,” Jotaro growled into Kakyoin’s neck with an air of dubious honesty, hot breath adding to the stickiness of his sweat. The sensation jolted Kakyoin’s cock. “Stay relaxed.”

Kakyoin almost resented him for saying that. He was he supposed to stay relaxed with a hand wrapped around his throat?

Jotaro glided back inside with abandon, Kakyoin squirming but dropping his jaw to let out an exasperated moan. He fucked him rhythmically now, smoothly but quickly, Kakyoin’s cock bouncing in return. Jotaro kissed Kakyoin’s neck sloppily, his fingers feeling the vibrations of his cries.

Kakyoin had doubted that Jotaro’s huge cock would have even fit in the first place, yet it glided in and out with ease now as Jotaro pounded into him over and over again. He stared ahead at the wall, gasps escaping his lips with each grunt that Jotaro delivered into his neck. Jotaro’s hips slapped against his ass in a lewd applause. His overstimulated prostate made him want more, each thrust leaving him impatient for the next.

“How does it feel?” Jotaro’s voice rumbled against his skin, his grip on Kakyoin’s neck tightening briefly before loosening to allow him to speak.

Kakyoin had to catch his breath before gathering his thoughts enough to speak. “I love it,” Kakyoin smiled with open lips, the realization that he indeed loved this hitting him the exact moment he found the words to say.

Jotaro nuzzled into his neck, his pace quickening. He moved his hand from Kakyoin’s neck and gripped his shoulder instead, his fingers digging into the muscle.

“What do you love?” he prodded, voice low and laced with gasping whispers.

“I love h-how you fuck me,” Kakyoin gushed. “I l-love your cock, I lo—”

Jotaro snarled loudly, pushing his cock as deeply into Kakyoin as it could go. He came hard with quivering abdominal muscles and a desperate grip on Kakyoin, holding him as if he was afraid he would float away if he didn’t. With his eyes clenched closed and a furrowed brow he rode out his orgasm, Kakyoin’s words echoing in his head.

Slowly but surely, his tight grasps weakened, allowing Kakyoin some slack to relax his posture. He took advantage of this, craning his head to lightly peck Jotaro’s cheek.

“I…I love you, too, Jotaro,” he whispered, finishing the statement he’d begun moments before.

Jotaro sighed deeply, sweat decorating his forehead, finally relaxed from the contentment that could only come after cumming.

“Love you too, Noriaki.”

Tags:

Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Showers

Love Confessions

Friendship/Love

Fluff and Smut

Anger

Physical Abuse

Sexual Tension

Declarations Of Love

Nightmares

Late Night Conversations

Explicit Sexual Content

Dubious Consent

Mildly Dubious Consent

Frottage

Mutual Pining

Light Dom/sub

Begging

Choking

Loss of Virginity

Prostate Massage

Doggy Style

Multiple Sex Positions

Come as Lube

Spit As Lube

Anal Fingering

Anal Sex

Praise Kink

Hair-pulling

dom jotaro

sub kakyoin

jotaro has a monthly subscription to the Journal of Marine Biology

Snooping

Jotaro has anger issues

virgin kakyoin

Awkward Kissing

Awkward First Times

Awkward Conversations

Porn With Plot

Porn with Feelings

Verbal Bondage

Dirty Talk

Top Kujo Jotaro

Bottom Kakyoin Noriaki

jotaro is a dick but he's really a gud boi

#jotaro x kakyoin #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #jojo part 3 #n/s/f/w

[twistedscandal]

Title: Netflix and No Chill

Pairing: Bonnie Bennett/Kai Parker

Summary: Bonnie and her friends are supposed to be gathering at Lockwood Manor for Halloween to watch scary movies with Kai.  What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: None really.  A little language.

A/N: I come from a long line of procrastinators, but this is ridiculous. The Vampire Diaries was still on the air when I started writing this. Then I thought I would revise it and post if for this year's bookai week on tumblr and I still didn't finish until now. So now I am posting a Halloween fic on the day after Thanksgiving. Shameful. I stopped watching the show during season five then picked back up for bonkai in season six then stopped again when I realized they were only going to continue to pay Bonnie dust, so I apologize for any details I may have gotten wrong. This fic contains vague spoilers for a couple of old movies.

It didn’t really surprise Bonnie that Halloween would be one of Kai’s favorite holidays and he had gone all out with the decorations. The pumpkin under Bonnie’s arm seemed to grow even heavier when she realized how unnecessary it was to have brought it. The winding driveway leading up to the front door was already littered with jack o lanterns. Each one bearing a different, grotesque carved expression. The front porch was covered with fake spiderwebs, cartoon cut outs of witches and skeletons posed in a variety of compromising positions. He had done his best to make Lockwood Manor look like a haunted house. Bonnie thought the outside of the house looked sufficiently spooky but knew it didn’t compare to the scariness of the monster currently dwelling inside.

The post it note stuck to the front door read, “Come on in” in Kai’s neat, blocky handwriting; a demented looking smiley face hastily drawn in the corner. Bonnie let herself into the Lockwood house, trying to ignore the general sense of unease that had been hovering over her all day. It was bad enough that they were even having a get together here in the first place but the fact that somehow, she was the only one whose schedule would allow her to get there first and get things set up left a sour taste in her mouth.

It had been a while since Bonnie and her friends had all been in the same room for reasons that weren’t life threatening, so Elena had suggested that with Halloween approaching, it would be a great time to get together and watch a bunch of scary movies. Horrible events that were confined to a screen and happening to other people seemed like a nice change of pace. Also, the thought of a get together that had almost zero potential to end in bloodshed was appealing.

There was one problem however, they didn’t really have anywhere to host said movie night. The dorm room was too small, casa Gilbert was no more and neither Bonnie or Caroline had stepped foot in their homes in over a year; there were too many memories of lost loved ones in the places they grew up to imagine going to either place for a party.

Not even the boarding house was a viable option. Stefan and Damon’s big, beautiful flat screen had been broken during some fight or other and they hadn’t bothered to buy another one to replace it. Neither of them watched a lot of tv anyway. Bonnie supposed that drunken housewives, cooking shows and whatever teenage love triangle tripe the CW was offering, didn’t have much appeal when you were over 100 years old.

There was a tv in Damon’s bedroom that he claimed he only used to “hate-watch” Grey’s Anatomy. Bonnie wondered if it really was hate-watching though, considering how misty-eyed Damon got when McDreamy bit it. That was all beside the point because there was no way Bonnie, Stefan, Caroline, Damon and Elena were all going to cram into Damon’s bedroom (can you say awkward) to watch movies anyway.

They were kind of stumped until Caroline suggested an alternative: “Why not just go to Kai’s place?” And by Kai’s place she meant Tyler’s. Kai had been squatting on the Lockwood property for so long that people had actually started referring to it as his. Bonnie had objected, but of course she had been unanimously overruled. There really weren’t any better choices and the Lockwood estate did have an actual home theater.

Apparently socializing with Kai was a small price to pay for cushioned seats and surround sound.

Bonnie was less than thrilled about the situation but determined not to let having to be around Kai ruin the evening.

She made her way to the kitchen, put down the pumpkin, shrugged out of her coat and began to unpack the grocery bag she’d brought with her. She laid tomatoes, onions, garlic, jalapenos, cilantro and a couple of limes on the island and got a cutting board off the counter. She searched around for a bowl and found one in the cabinet over the stove. Bonnie stretched up onto the tips of her toes and had just about gotten her finger hooked over the edge of the bowl when it suddenly seemed to move further back out of her reach.

Bonnie leaned further in and just when she got her hand on the bowl, once again it seemed to move closer to the back of the cabinet. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Stop it, Kai.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Kai appeared so suddenly that Bonnie wondered if he had cloaked himself and been standing there watching her all the while. He had perfected the art of casually draping himself in doorways and there he stood, his hair damp, his chest bare and a black t-shirt thrown over his shoulder.

Bonnie turned to face him full on. “I know you moved that bowl out of my reach.”

“Come on, Bonnie,” Kai said attempting and failing to look innocent. “Do I seem like the kind of person to engage in that sort of pointless and immature behavior?”

“Yes, Kai. You seem exactly like that sort of person because you are exactly that sort of person.”

“Don’t be like that. I was just having a little fun and I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. You do remember that you’re a witch, right? You could have floated the stupid thing right into your hands.”

“Yeah, well not all of us witches are powerful coven leaders with magic to spare.”

“You’re a Bennett. I seriously doubt that moving a bowl would tire you out.” Kai scoffed.

“Whatever. My Grams taught me that it was a waste of energy to use magic for anything that I could do like a normal person.”

Kai gave Bonnie an incredulous look. “That’s terrible advice. You’re not normal; you’re extraordinary. Try acting like it and you might actually have some fun once in a while.”

Bonnie ignored Kai, turning her back to him while she made another grab for the bowl.

“You are the most hard headed person I’ve ever met in my life.” Kai slid in behind Bonnie and reached over her to pull the bowl down from the cabinet.

Bonnie’s breath caught in her chest as she felt his body move against hers. For just a moment something in her brain went sideways and she wondered what it might feel like to lean back onto Kai’s muscular frame; to let herself be overwhelmed by the warmth of his body and the clean soapy smell emanating from his skin. The moment passed as quickly as it came though and her common sense clicked back into place as she elbowed Kai in the stomach. “Are you even vaguely familiar with the concept of personal space?”

The bowl clanged against the counter as Kai unceremoniously dropped it from his hand. “Are you familiar with the concept of saying thank you?”

“As if I would ever thank you for anything.” Bonnie grabbed a knife and began chopping tomatoes. She watched Kai out the corner of her eye, thankful as he finally shrugged into his t shirt and pulled it down over his torso.

He leaned against the island, his dark blue eyes locked on Bonnie. “So, you’re the only one here?”

“Do you see anybody else?”

“The rest of the scooby gang is actually coming though, right?”

“Of course they are. Why would you even ask me that?”

“I’m just trying to make sure that I’m not being lured into some type of Netflix and chill situation.”

Bonnie knew that she shouldn’t be, but she was continuously amazed by some of the nonsense that made its way out of Kai’s mouth. “First of all, ew. Second of all, what the hell would you know about Netflix and chill?”

“Call it whatever you want, but inviting someone over under the pretense of watching a movie just so you can get them alone in a dark room and start making moves is a tale as old as time. I’m sure there was some Neanderthal back in the day trying to get a woman to come over for cave drawings and chill.”

“Elena and Damon are at the grocery store getting more snacks.”

Kai’s eyebrows shot straight up. “You’re letting those two be in charge of the food? Don’t be too surprised if they show up with nothing but a bag of gummy bears, a few pints of o-negative and a gallon of bourbon. What about vampire Barbie and Ken? Where are they?”

“If you’re talking about Stefan and Caroline, he’s picking her up from Whitmore. She has a late class on Fridays. They should all be here in a little while. You and I will not be alone and your virtue, such as it is, shall remain intact.”

Kai made a dramatic show of rolling his eyes. “Bummer.” A hint of a smile danced around his lips. “I’ll be right back.” He bounced out of the kitchen, humming to himself.

Bonnie resumed chopping tomatoes and wondered if that was going to be the new normal for her interactions with Kai. Ambiguous (and potentially sinister) hovering had been replaced with flagrant (and terrible) attempts at flirting.

Kai returned to the kitchen a few moments later. He took a couple of beers out of the fridge and opened them; he put one bottle down in front of Bonnie as he took a long drink from the other. “What are you making?”

“Salsa.”

“I’ve heard that there’s places called grocery stores where they sell salsa already made in jars.”

“Do you really want to be a smart ass while I have this knife in my hand?”

Kai ignored Bonnie’s threat. “Want some help?”

“No.”

Kai washed his hands then grabbed another knife from the butcher’s block. He stood beside Bonnie and began working on an onion.

Bonnie, understandably, was still somewhat wary of Kai with a sharp object in his hand, but after her initial apprehension passed they worked in a somewhat companionable silence. She thought it might not be so bad after all. Her friends would be there soon and then there would be four people to buffer the space between her and Kai. Damon especially always seemed quite eager to provide a barrier between Bonnie and Kai, both metaphorically and physically. All she had to do was hold on and hope that he could be quiet for just a little while longer.

“Hey, Bon.” Kai’s voice cut into Bonnie’s thoughts; she should have known him being quiet wasn’t going to last. “May I ask you a personal question?”

“If I say no, aren’t you just going to ask me anyway?”

“You know me so well. How come you and Dudley Do Right never hooked up?”

“Why do you keep calling him that? You know his name is Matt.”

Kai stared at Bonnie as though she had said something ridiculous. “And you know that I don’t care. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“There is no subject because I never agreed to have this conversation in the first place.” Bonnie put down her knife and looked at Kai, curiosity getting the better of her. “Why do you want to know anyway?”

Kai shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just curious. He’s around. You’ve known him forever. You’re hot. He’s hot.”

Bonnie raised an eyebrow at Kai. “You think Matt is hot?”

“I’m very comfortable with who I am so I’ve got no problem saying another guy is attractive. Young Matthew is quite handsome; in a bland, generic, Sears catalog model kind of way.”

“How is it that even your compliments manage to be insults?”

“Just one of my many God given talents.”

“I doubt that God has anything to do with any of your so-called talents.”

“I can’t really argue with that. Now let’s get back on topic, Bonbon. Do you not think Matt is cute or were you worried you two would bore each other into a coma?”

“I don’t know.” Bonnie said while shrugging her shoulders. “I guess I’ve always thought of Matt in a brotherly way. Not to mention the fact that he and Elena were attached at the hip for as long as I could remember. Even after they broke up it was hard not to think of him as her boyfriend. Then he was with Caroline and had that thing with Rebekah. After that….” Bonnie voice trailed off.

Kai leaned in closer. “What?” Bonnie shook her head and looked away. “Come on, tell me.”

“I don’t know.” Odd as it was, it felt good to finally voice her feelings out loud. Kai obviously would not have been her first choice for a confidante but at the very least she knew she could tell him anything, he wouldn’t judge and wouldn’t share it with anyone else.

“Matt’s a great guy but there’s never really been any kind of spark between us and even if there had been, I’m not interested in being anyone else’s second or third or in Matt’s case, fourth, choice. Been there, done that and it wasn’t a whole lot of fun. The next relationship I’m in I need to know that I’m not somebody’s consolation prize because they wanted someone else and settled for me. I need to be somebody’s first choice.”

Kai was silent for a moment. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Again, even if I say no, you’re just going to keep talking anyway.”

Kai shot a couple of finger guns in Bonnie’s direction. “Exactly.”

“In that case sure,” Bonnie said, her voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. “I’d love to hear a secret.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”

“Shocking.” Bonnie responded in a deadpan tone.

“I know right. These boyish good looks and devilish charms, I should have been beating the ladies off with a stick.”

Bonnie wondered if her sarcasm had truly gone over Kai’s head or if he was simply choosing to ignore it. “Not what I meant, at all, but okay.”

“My father tried to keep it under wraps for as long as he could but by the time I was fourteen word was out amongst the coven that I was a magical dud and a budding sociopath to boot, so none of those girls were exactly beating a path to my door. Combine that with dear old dad’s insistence that the family not fraternize with outsiders and that added up to a very empty social calendar for yours truly.”

“So, you never went out with anybody? You didn’t have any friends?”

“Not really. Sometimes I used to sneak into town. As useless and unbearable as I found most of the other kids in the coven, I’ve got to admit that nobody can conjure up a better fake ID than a bunch of bored, repressed teenage witches. And it’s not like we were going to snitch on each other. We all snuck into town. The atmosphere in the coven was suffocating; I wasn’t the only one that needed to get out and breathe every once in a while. Wouldn’t have really mattered if I got caught anyway. I was already a lost cause in my dad’s eyes. I didn’t have anything to lose.”

Kai fell silent as a faraway look crept into his eyes. It was almost like he had forgotten Bonnie was even still in the room; like his mind had gone somewhere else entirely.

“Kai?” Bonnie spoke hoping to jar him from his thoughts.

He sparked back to life. “Anyway, it was nice to get out and talk to people that didn’t know. Hadn’t already decided what I was and what I wasn’t. Sometimes it was just enough to be around somebody that didn’t flinch if I tried to touch them.”

Despite her best efforts, Bonnie sometimes felt herself softening towards Kai. At the very least she felt sorry for the person he could have been had he been born with his own magic or born into a family that could have loved him and taught him to love himself without it. Her sympathy however dissipated quickly when she recalled the look in his eyes as he had stabbed her.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Right. My point was that I’ve never had a real relationship before, so if I have one whoever I’m with would be my first choice.” He shyly dropped his eyes a way from hers. “My only choice.”

Awkward, Bonnie thought to herself. She hoped Kai wasn’t expecting some sort of response from her because she was literally speechless. She had given up on pretending that Kai didn’t have some sort of weird thing for her but that didn’t mean she was willing to discuss it with him or anyone else anytime soon.

Bonnie looked away from Kai to check her phone. It had been more than enough time for one of the couples coming to have shown up by now. Not only had no one come, she hadn’t gotten any messages or calls either. “Where are they? I wonder if something happened.”

“Please if something happened to any of them they would have already called you begging for help by now, wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right, but still maybe- “

“Maybe nothing,” Kai said cutting Bonnie off. “Your friends have the attention spans of rabid billy goats; anything could be distracting them. I say we finish making what is sure to be some very delicious salsa, grab some chips, go downstairs and start on our first movie. I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough.”

***********************************

Bonnie and Kai were settled into the reclining seats with chips, Bonnie’s salsa, a bowl of popcorn and a big bag of Twizzlers sitting on the seat between them. Kai had insisted on dimming the lights for an authentic movie watching experience, so the only real light in the room was emanating from the screen.

It came as no surprise whatsoever that Kai was the type to talk through movies.

“I’m confused.”

“About what?”

“Are we not supposed to know that the boyfriend is the killer?”

“Really, Kai? This movie has only been on for twenty minutes. You’re not supposed to say who the killer is.”

“But I am right, aren’t I? Besides it’s not like I’m spoiling it for you. I’m the one that’s never seen this before.”

“That’s not the point. Will you be quiet?”

“If they don’t want you to guess the killer right away, they could have been a little subtler. I mean look at him. The greasy hair, the chock full of crazy eyes. I know a sociopath when I see one.”

“Well you know what they say. Takes one to know one.”

“Exactly.”

“Please shut up.”

***********************************

The first movie had ended and still Elena and Damon nor Caroline and Stefan had shown up yet. Bonnie had tried calling all of them and had only been able to get their voice mails.

“Knowing them you know what they’re probably doing.”

“What are you talking about Kai?”

He wiggled his eyebrows in suggestive manner. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Let’s start another movie.”

Amazingly Kai was able to remain quiet until the end of the second movie. “I knew he was dead all along.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“You’re right, they got me pretty good with that one. People must have freaked out back in the day.”

************************************

By the time the third movie started Kai’s chatterbox tendencies had rubbed off on Bonnie. “You do realize that these movies make absolutely no sense. Mrs. Vorhees goes on a murderous rampage to avenge Jason’s death in the first movie, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, Jason goes on a murderous rampage to avenge her death in all the rest of the movies.”

“Do you have a point, Bonnie?”

“If Jason wasn’t dead what was Mrs. Vorhees so pissed off about in the first place? If he was dead, how did he come back to life? Is he a ghost? A zombie? Every single movie other than the first one is utter nonsense because they ruin the entire premise of the series.”

“I. . .” Kai opened his mouth and then immediately closed it again. For the first time since Bonnie met him he had been rendered speechless. “I’ll be damned. I grew up watching these and I never even thought about that. Stop trying to ruin my childhood.”

***********************************

Bonnie awoke with a start. It took a minute for her to get her bearings and remember where she was. She sat up slowly, the odd angle she’d fallen asleep at had caused a crook in her neck. The room was mostly dark as the last movie that she and Kai had been watching had long since ended. She checked the time on her phone and was surprised to see that it was just after midnight. Clearly, her friends had never shown up. She wanted to be more concerned, but it wasn’t like this was the first time they’d ditched her with no warning.

Bonnie looked over at Kai. He was turned sideways in his seat with his cheek against the headrest. She was taken aback at how young and innocent he looked. She supposed even the devil himself might look harmless while sleeping. She reached across the seat between them and shook his arm. “Kai, wake up.” When she got no response, she stood up and went closer; leaning over him and poking his shoulder.

Kai suddenly jolted awake, the contents of the half empty soda can in his hand splashing up onto Bonnie’s shirt in the process. He started apologizing immediately. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Calm down. I know it was an accident.” Bonnie was surprised by the horrified look on Kai’s face. She wondered where this sort of apologetic energy had been after he’d shot her with an arrow.

Bonnie grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at her shirt, but it wasn’t doing her much good. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I always keep a change of clothes in my car.” Life in Mystic Falls had taught Bonnie to be prepared for anything. “I’m just gonna grab a clean shirt.”

Kai followed behind Bonnie as she left the room. “It’s not that bad, is it? You don’t need to leave.”

“It’s cold and it’s sticky.”

“You can just wear something of mine.” Kai almost seemed to be pleading with her to not go outside.

“What is your problem? I’m not leaving, okay. I’ll come back.” And as much as the words leaving her mouth surprised her, Bonnie also knew that she meant them wholeheartedly. She didn’t want to leave. Despite herself she’d been having the best time she’d had in a while and genuinely did not want the night to end.

“I’ll grab a fresh shirt, come back and we can start another movie. Why don’t you go ahead and start up Nightmare on Elm Street and I can tell you all the things wrong with it too? It’ll be fun.”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Bonnie, wait.”

“What?”

“I just want to say that I had a really good time with you tonight.”

“Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye? I told you I’m coming back.”

“I know.”

Bonnie shook her head. “Weirdo.” She made a detour through the kitchen to grab her keys off the counter before making her way outside. As soon as she reached her car, her phone started going crazy.

Kai was leaning against the kitchen counter when Bonnie re-entered the house. “You know, I would have expected better from a mega powerful coven leader.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bonnie had to admit that Kai’s poker face was world class. If she didn’t know for a fact what he had done his innocent act would have been quite effective.

“I’m talking about the fact that if you had extended the boundary of your spell just a few more feet down the driveway it would have taken me much longer to figure out what you’d done.”

“Still don’t have a clue.”

“Is this really how you want to play it? As soon as I stepped foot outside my phone started ringing. I have dozens of text messages and missed calls. Caroline, Stefan, Damon and Elena have been trying to get in touch with me all night. First, their cars wouldn’t start.”

“That sounds like a problem for Triple A. Don’t know what it has to do with me though.”

“In addition to their cars not starting, they’re bound where they are. Physically incapable of walking more than five feet away from where they are.”

“That’s crazy but strange things happen in this town all the time, am I right?”

“It was a spell Kai. A spell powerful enough to keep four supernatural beings in two different locations rooted to the spots they were standing on. How do you explain that?”

“So, it was a spell. It’s not like I’m the only other witch that’s ever blown through this one-horse town.”

“You’re not the only witch, but you’re the only one that would have done this.”

“Are you kidding? The Mystic Falls Scooby gang has collectively probably made enemies on every continent across the globe. Your bestie Damon alone can’t go two seconds without pissing somebody off. The list of people that might want to ruin their nights isn’t exactly short.”

“You can’t even do me the courtesy of just admitting what you’ve done?” Kai continued to stare at Bonnie, his arms crossed over his chest; his face completely blank. “I don’t know why I bother. I thought we were having a—" She stopped short realizing what she was about to say and pulling the words back into her mouth.

“Go ahead and finish. You thought we were having a good time and that’s because we were.” Kai stepped around the kitchen counter, closing the gap between Bonnie and himself. “Maybe I just wanted an opportunity to be alone with you and show you that I’m not some completely irredeemable monster. Maybe I wanted to be given half as much of a chance as you give everyone else. So maybe I bounced the cell phone signal away from this house. Maybe I bound those idiot friends of yours to the ground they were standing on, so they couldn’t leave.”

“So, you’re finally owning up?”

“I’m owning nothing. I’m just saying maybe I did those things.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I didn’t.”

“You are so full of shit, Kai.”

“I can tell you one thing I definitely didn’t do. I didn’t do anything to make you stay. You weren’t bound in any way shape or form. None of your friends showed up and you were free to leave at any point, but you didn’t. You sat with me all night watching a bunch of dumb scary movies for no other reason except that you wanted to. There was no trick to it. You were genuinely enjoying my company more than you thought you would and more than you want to admit. I think that’s the part that probably pisses you off the most.”

Bonnie opened her mouth but closed it just as quickly. She was at a loss for a comeback because she couldn’t honestly deny anything Kai had just said. She would have been able to feel it if he had worked any magic against her and there had been nothing. They had laughed and talked, watched movies and taken a nap and she would have come back for more, if only he hadn’t done what he’d done.

This was all a little more than Bonnie was willing or able to process at the moment. “I’m out of here.” Bonnie grabbed her coat off the counter and stalked towards the living room. She turned back to look at Kai one last time before walking out the door. He was leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms dangling loosely by his sides. The air of defeat around him was almost palpable. She paused for a moment almost subconsciously willing him to say something, but he remained silent.

As the door shut behind her, she faintly heard Kai’s voice. “Happy Halloween, Bonnie.”

#bonkai #bonkai fiction #bookai2k18

[theolddarkmachine]

SUPER LATE GAJEVY LOVE WEEK 2017: DAY 2- BODY SWAP

Hiiiiiii, have you ever seen the movie It's a Boy Girl Thing? 1) It's really good for being a random, low budget teen romcom and I def recommend checking it out on Netflix. 2) It's what inspired this. Also I wasn't too wildly happy with the last chapter because I felt like I copped out so I just want to apologize for that. Please also see note at end!

“Would you two shut up!” Natsu yelled, his flames escaping his control slightly as he snapped at Levy and Gajeel. The two had been arguing since they left the guild and honestly, he didn’t care that it was Gramps who had told him to take them along on this mission, he had had enough! The old man had had a strange twinkle in his eye when he’d asked him to bring them along, and it’s not that Natsu didn’t know what that look meant. That look meant nothing but trouble. He should know, he was the master of that look. But right about now when the Iron Dragon and Script Mage had been fighting incessantly for what seemed like hours, he was pretty sure he was going to burn the whole damn forest to the ground.

“Butt out, Flame Breath!” Gajeel barked, turning his attention to him instead.

“Yeah, Natsu, mind your own business!” Levy added just as angrily. What was that saying? Couples start to act like each other over time? If only they’d give in to the obvious tension between the two of them, maybe he wouldn’t have to listen to them with their big dumb mouths.

“I give up, you guys find your own way home!” Natsu yelled back, fire engulfing his hands as he threw them up and stormed away. They weren’t too far off from the guild hall anyway, if they couldn’t get home from here well that seemed like a personal problem. He’d done his part, they’d gone to the weird statue in the middle of the woods outside the hall, and found nothing out of the ordinary. Well, there had been that one moment where it seemed to have a surge of magic power, but given his comrades HAD STILL BEEN FIGHTING, he hadn’t paid it much mind. It was gone almost immediately anyway, so most likely nothing to worry about.

He hoped.

****

Levy was worried they may have overdone it with the show they had put on for Natsu when they’d joined him on his mission. Her and Gajeel had agreed to keep their relationship to themselves for awhile. It was honestly none of anybody’s business, but she couldn’t help but feel playing up their fighting would only make things more obvious.  But she was going to go along with it, if only because it was kind of fun to go at the dragon slayer. There was a small part of her that wished she could just hold his freaking hand in public though. Being secretive did have it’s moments where it was kind of fun and dangerous, however. She giggled to herself as Gajeel unlocked the door to his house.

“What’re you giggling about, shrimp?” He asked curiously as he pushed the door open and held it for he.

“Oh, nothing you should worry your pretty little head over,” she smiled up at him sweetly as she brushed past. He rolled his eyes and growled lowly, no real threat behind the sound. He couldn’t actually be mad at his little blue fairy, not that the rest of the guild needed to know that. He was enjoying the bubble they’d been living in and not having to share what they had with anyone else. A loud yawn tore itself from Levy’s mouth.

“I feel you, short stack,” he said in response, smothering his own yawn. “Let’s go to bed.”

****

The first thing Levy noticed when she started to stir awake, was that it was really freaking hot. Like, really hot. Was certain she was cooking from the inside out kind of hot. The second thing she noticed, was a really small arm slung across her waist. The third, and possibly most alarming, was what ever that uncomfortably hard thing was in her pants.

“Gajeel?” She said sleepily wiggling closer to the body behind her. There was only a moment between his name leaving her mouth and her eyes snapping open. Now, Levy wasn’t much of a morning person. Far from it, it took 45 minutes to an hour on a normal day for her to make it out of bed and to the kitchen and another 30-45 minutes before her coffee kicked in and she was able to actually partake in human contact. She was aware that sometimes, her voice could be a bit husky and low in the morning when used before that time. But the voice that she’d heard just now was not her own at all. It was, without a doubt, Gajeel’s.

“Yeah, Lev?” She heard her own voice respond from behind her as the small arm tightened around her waist. Since she had no idea what the fuck was going on, she was going to ignore the fact that Gajeel didn’t even seem to think twice about the fact she was clearly speaking with a man’s voice right now. The bluenette started to count the seconds before the moment of realization dropped. One Mississippi, two Missi- “What the fuck?!” If he’d had his own voice, she was sure that would have come out as a roar. With her voice it sounded, well, harmless. Flipping over, Levy found herself staring into her own horrified hazel eyes. If she was looking at herself, and Gajeel seemed to be her, then it only stood to reason that...

She shakily brought a hand up, terrified to confirm what she already knew was true. breathing in deeply, she looked at the large hands that were now her own, and the forearm that was studded with iron. She isn’t going to admit she screamed, because she wasn’t even sure Gajeel should have been able to make the noise she made anyway, but she definitely let out a manly yell. Then everything went black.

****

Levy-- or would it technically be him? Referring to his body as Levy was weird-- had come back to the land of the living about an hour later. Gajeel would be lying if he didn’t admit it had been a shock to wake up about two feet shorter, a hundred pounds lighter and with tits, but he had to stay strong for his girl. Or... whatever. He currently stood in the kitchen, arms crossed across his chest as he stared up at the cabinet with the sugar for the coffee he was trying to make. He hadn’t even thought about how high that dumbass sugar was until five minutes ago when he’d thrown the cabinet open and stretched up to grab it, seeing that his hand was still about 6 inches from the container. Stretching as far as he could and standing on tiptoes, he was still inches from the thing, but he would be damned if he asked for help. Nope. It wasn’t going to happen. Glaring up at the sugar, Gajeel inhaled deeply closed his eyes, and threw his arm up towards the sugar as he envisioned it turning to iron and lengthening into a claw. He stood there for a second with his arm outstretched before letting out a sigh of defeat. It had been worth a try. Slamming the cabinet door shut, he poured two cups of coffee and took them out to the living room.

There was one thing he enjoyed about being Levy, aside from the boobs which were still fun to play with, and that was how light everything felt. It felt more like he was floating than walking, which was certainly a change from the usual heaviness of his own body. Turning the corner into the living room, he saw himself curled up in the corner of the couch, book open on his knees and Levy’s reading glasses propped on the edge of his nose.

“Lev, if you let anyone see me like that, I will never forgive you,” he deadpanned in an attempt to sound menacing. A fruitless effort since he knew his blue haired girl could never sound terrifying. “Here’s your usual coffee. Black, just the way you like it.” He set the ‘Beware: I Bite’ mug on the coffee table in front of her before falling down onto the couch and sprawling out to take up as much room as he could. Gajeel sipped from his own mug and winced at the bitter taste of the coffee without the sugar.

“Couldn’t reach the sugar, huh?” She said, not looking up from the book in front of her, a  hint of a smile playing across her lips.

“Shut up,” he mumbled as he took another sip of the warm liquid. “Find anything about what the hell might be going on?” Levy finally looked up, leaned forward and grabbed the mug before returning his gaze.

“First of all, talking to myself is really freaking me out,” she said and then took a sip. How she enjoyed coffee in all its plain coffee glory was beyond him. “Second, I can’t really seem to find anything in any of my books. We haven’t run into any wizards with the ability to using soul magic aside from Bickslow, and I doubt he’d switch our souls out for the hell of it,” her eyes suddenly narrowed at him. (He realized now why people found him scary, it wasn’t fun to be on the receiving end of his own glare.) “Unless you pissed him off recently, Gajeel.”

“You know I’d admit to that, short stack,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“There was something that was kind of interesting, but it doesn’t really go into too much detail,” Levy went on to say as she turned the book around. “Doesn’t this statue kind of look like the one from yesterday?” She pointed at a drawing that resembled that of the one they’d gone out to see with Natsu.

“Sure does, Lev!” He smiled. “What is it?” He watched as she shrugged his shoulders, peering at him through those glasses that looked positively ridiculous on his face.

“All it says here is that it’s a statue of Tezcatlipoca, and he’s been known to be a god of discord.” She paused for a moment than shook her head. “You don’t think our arguing yesterday had anything to do with this, do you?” Sipping the disgusting liquid in his mug, he mulled over the thought.

“Ya got me, Shrimp, but it does seem like a good place to start.”

*****

Once she got used to being a man and speaking to herself, she thought she’d enjoy being so big. She could finally reach books on the top shelves, and could finally see what it was like to look down at people instead of look up. Turns out, she hated being so much bigger. All her limbs felt so much heavier, and she didn’t particular enjoy how she kept accidentally glaring at people. Gajeel apparently had resting bitch face, something she never noticed since he never seemed to have that look around her. (That, or she’d just gotten used to it. Actually, that was probably the real reasoning.) The plan had been to find Natsu and ask him what exactly he knew about the statue. The problem was, upon seeing them Natsu did as Natsu does and, well...

“Solid Script: Shield!” Levy yelled out of habit as Natsu leapt at her.

“Wanna brawl?!” He yelled as he came flying at her, fist raised for attack.

“Salamander, get off her!” Gajeel roared, jumping into the fray disregarding the fact his fist would most likely do little to no damage in the state they were in. Almost as quickly as it began, the commotion stopped as the fire dragon slayer looked from Gajeel to Levy and back again. Staring at Levy’s body he cocked his head to the side.

“Levy, are you feeling okay? It’s not like you to call Gajeel a girl,” he said before turning his attentions to Gajeel’s body. “I mean unless there’s something I don’t know. You’d know better than me, I suspect.” Levy watched as Gajeel used her fist to punch Natsu in the face.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, punk,” she heard her voice say lowly. “Now we need to ask you some questions.”

“But first, could you get off me please, Natsu,” Levy said. It wasn’t that he was heavy or anything, especially in this form, but she didn’t exactly like being this close to Natsu. Gajeel’s sense of smell picked up the earthy, spicy scent that Natsu carried and a hint of something much sweeter. Almost like vanilla, and she wondered if that was Lucy. It may be the fact she said please, but he quickly pushed back, still with the perplexed look on his face before turning to Levy’s body.

“Gajeel?” He asked before leaning forward and taking a quick sniff. “Wow it is you! How the fuck did you manage that!” He turned to Levy where she was on the ground and sniffed. “That sucks, Levy, talk about a major downgrade.” She sat up and shook her head.

“We aren’t quite sure how this happened, but we think it has something to do with that statue and were wondering if you could help us out with any information you might have about it,” she said hopefully. With any luck, he would have the answers. Her hopes were quickly dashed as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry, Levy, I don’t really know,” he said apologetically. “Gramps asked me to take you two out to take a look and see if there was anything weird out there but that was it. There had been a moment where I thought I had felt a surge of magic power from it while you guys were really going at it but it was gone almost as quickly as it came about. Dunno if that helps any.”

Levy nodded before perking up.

“But you said that the master told you to take us?” Her eyes lit up when he nodded.

“If anyone knows anything about that statue, it’s gonna be Gramps,” he confirmed. Looking over at Gajeel, she nodded, knowing that they would both need to head to the guild hall right away. Before she could do anything else, she watched as Gajeel punched Natsu in the face.

“That’s for trying to ambush us, Salamander,” he yelled.

*****

Mirajane looked down at the stein she was drying as she shook her head.

“I’m sorry guys, the master went out this morning and said he wouldn’t be back for a couple days,” she said sweetly. “Why, what’s wrong?” On the way to the guild hall, Levy and Gajeel had agreed to not tell anyone else about what had happened, more to avoid the inevitable questions and jokes that would come with it. They hadn’t, however, come up with a good lie for why they’d been looking for Makarov.

“No reason, Mira!” Gajeel said, trying his best to sound as much like Levy as possible. He’d even worked on not scowling, which was a pretty tough thing for him to accomplish. Levy had lectured him about his rest bitch face and mentioned that she was going to be very upset if he gave her wrinkles from scowling like that while they were swapped. The takeover mage smiled at him.

“If he gets home early though, I’ll let him know you wanted to speak with him! Until then, want to go ahead and have a bite to eat?” It was Levy’s turn to speak up, as Gajeel normally ordered for the both of them. After placing their order, they walked over to an empty table to try their best to avoid people. It was a lot harder to be someone else than one might expect. With a sigh, Levy went to lean against Gajeel before she groaned loudly.

“No offense, Gajeel, but I really hate being you,” she said sadly. All she’d wanted to do was lean against her boyfriend and maybe even cry a little bit. He probably wouldn’t appreciate it though if she started crying in the middle of the guild hall while in his body. She was certain there would be a way to reverse whatever they’d gotten into. There almost always was, but in that moment she couldn’t help but think about what might happen if they couldn’t. Gajeel must have picked up on that fact as he snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. He could feel the eyes of the other members in the hall on them and he honestly couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. His girl was hurting so he had to be there for her.

“We’ll figure something out, Lev,” he said, resting against her. He didn’t like being the one to do the leaning, not being the one leant on. She sighed deeply.

“I know we will, Gajeel.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both allowing their eyes to close and imagine that they were back in their own bodies. In that moment, a warmth overtook the both of them and a gold light enveloped the both of them. The sound of the guild hall fell away as it grew brighter.

“What the-” Gajeel started to say before he was cut off and the light blinded them. Once it cleared, Levy rubbed her eyes before looking down at her hands and seeing them as her small dainty hands. And excited squeal escaped her lips as she turned to Gajeel and actually saw him next to her.

“Gajeel!” She cried. “I’m me!” Before she could say anything else, he tapped her chin up with his finger and pressed a hungry kiss to her lips.

“It’s so good to see you as you, Lev,” he smiled. Her stomach flipped as she heard someone wolf whistle from behind them “I don’t know what happened, or why, but I don’t think I’m going to take being able to see your beautiful face with my own eyes for granted again.” This time she initiated the kiss, smiling as cheers erupted in the hall.

*****

Makarov chuckled to himself, proud of his trick as he watched the two lovebirds from his hiding place upstairs. Sure, he’d gambled a bit sending Natsu out with them, especially given Natsu and Gajeel’s penchant for fighting each other and very well could have ended up the victims of Tezcatlipoca instead. Not that that wouldn’t have been great fun either. But as he watched Gajeel throw him arm around Levy as she nuzzled her way into his chest right there in the guild hall, both looking the happiest he’d seen them, he knew his plan had worked splendidly. Everyone had known they’d been together for ages now, and it had honestly been silly that they’d been keeping up this act like no one knew. In the end it was only hurting them. He caught Mira’s eye from where he sat and winked at his co-conspirator. He turned his attention back to the couple, who had been joined by Natsu and Lucy. They all looked so happy and it almost brought a tear to the old man’s eye. Nothing made him happier than knowing his children were happy.

****************

A/N- So, upon quick reread before hitting "Publish" I realize that if you haven't seen the movie the whole what caused them to turn back thing might not be as clear. So basically in the movie the protags are on a school field trip at a museum and they're arguing in front of the statue of Tezcatlipoca and because he's the god of discord, he switches them until they like learn to be harmonious. Basically, the master knew if he sent them out with Natsu they'd be doing their arguing schtick and get switched and wouldn't be switched back until they were able to be like normal and happy and coupley instead of hiding. Basically. The issue is in order to fully develop all that I feel like this thing would have needed to be much longer than I'd like for a one shot length. Especially a one shot I wrote while working XD

#gajevy week #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden #gajeel x levy #gajevy #one shot #THE NEXT ONE IS A DOOZY YALL #I STARTED IT LAST NIGHT AND IT'S ALREADY AT LIKE 5K WORDS HELP