#stretch seems to always have a lollipop in his mouth when i draw him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eddieeatsass · 3 years

Note

If you’re accepting prompts can I get a small smutty Bichie one shot? Preferably including a lollipop and Bill with an oral fixation

I clearly don't know the definition of "small"... so here's 4k words instead uhhhhhhI'msosorry please enjoy this debauchery

Read over on AO3 or under the cut ♡

A lollipop is simply a lollipop until you give it to Bill Denbrough; when in his clutches it becomes a weapon of arousal. It would be fundamentally impossible to see Bill sucking on a lollipop and not pop a boner. Well, maybe it would be possible if you didn't have a dick, and oh what Richie would give to be in that category right now.

The thing is, Bill always seemed to have something in his mouth. He was a chronic nail biter, went through two packs of gum a day, was known to bum a cigarette off Bev every once in a while, and Richie's pretty sure he even caught him sucking his thumb one time at a sleepover.

But lollipops were by far the worst.

"My mom is gonna kill me."

Richie was snapped out of his hyper fixation, his attention pulled back into the conversation as Eddie voiced his newest worry.

"You can borrow one of my shirts if we stop by my place on the way back." Stanley offered, eyeing the big brown stain that now interrupted the pink of Eddie's sweater.

"She'll notice if I'm wearing a different shirt." Eddie objected, scrubbing at the spot with a napkin.

"We can throw yours in the wash and you'll be wearing it again by the time you go home." Beverly suggested, trying to defuse Eddie’s heightening anxiety.

"Yeah, my parents won't mind." Stan added encouragingly.

"This is the last time I ever order a chocolate shake. From now on, vanilla only." Eddie grumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Awe come on Eds, we all know you’re anything but vanilla.” Richie joked, jumping at the opportunity to think about someone else’s sex life instead of his own.

“Fuck off, Rich.” Eddie snapped back with little bite.

“It’s not a secret, we all know you’re a little freaky-”

“You’re the freak! Quit talking about my personal business!” Eddie was getting red in the face, but around him the rest of the Losers were doing little to hide their snickers. Even Bill, whose mouth pulled into a grin around that fucking lollipop.

And Richie was back to square one.

“My parents are gonna be home in a couple hours so if we want the house to ourselves, we should go now.” Stan mentioned, standing up from his spot at the corner of their booth, allowing Bill, Beverly, and Eddie to file out after him.

“So, we’re not going to the Quarry anymore?” Ben asked, sliding out of the other side of the booth and throwing an extra ten dollars on the table as a tip. He grabbed one of the complimentary lollipops that had been left with their receipt and began unwrapping it.

“We won’t have time if we want to keep Eddie alive.” Mike mentioned.

“Then perish.” Richie said, straight faced.

“We don’t all h-have to go to S-S-Stanley’s.” Bill said, drawing Richie’s attention back, once again, to his sinful mouth.

This was becoming a problem.

They ended up splitting three ways; Eddie, Stanley, and Mike went off on their attempt to save Eddie’s shirt, Ben and Beverly decided to go on to the quarry, and Richie ended up sticking with Bill after they’d both agreed that it was too hot to stick to their original plans.

Though, Richie would probably have agreed with Bill no matter what he’d decided.

They arrived at Bill’s place twenty minutes later, heaving hot breaths from their trek in the summer sun.

"You want s-s-something t-to drink?" Bill panted, toeing off his shoes at the doorway but not bothering to chastise Richie when he kept his on.

"Depends whacha got, Denbrough." Richie followed him into the kitchen, hopping up on the countertop as Bill opened the fridge.

"Coke, orange j-juice, and m-milk." Bill announced, his head hidden behind the big metal door.

"Toss me a coke." Richie decided easily, never one to pass up the opportunity for more sugar.

Bill resurfaced with two cans in hand, passing one to Richie and carrying the other across the room where he reached into the cabinet that held the straws.

"Why do you drink everything through a straw?" Richie asked, his cock giving an annoying twitch as Bill brought the straw to his lips and took a sip before answering.

"It just tastes b-better that way." Bill shrugged.

Richie could feel the joke forming in his throat before he could think better than to speak it.

"I know something else that tastes better cumming straight from the straw."

Damn his quick wit.

Bill froze, straw caught between those pretty pink lips as he stared at Richie with an unreadable expression.

"It's your penis, isn't it." Bill deadpanned.

"Yep." Richie responded, popping the 'p' at the end of his statement in sync with him hopping off the counter.

"N-not some of your best work, Rich-ch-ie." Bill teased, biting down around his straw with a flirty grin.

Richie's face flushed a violent shade of red, having to do a double take just to check that his mind hadn't hallucinated the way Bill had smiled at him. But before he could dwell on it too much, Bill retreated to the other room.

The next few hours were torture on Richie’s dick. Bill seemed to find something new to stick in his mouth every two god damn minutes. He was like a badly trained dog.

After the straw, Bill produced a box of pocky which he spent the next hour idling chewing and sucking on. When they finished off the box, he chewed on his fingernails as they watched TV. His pencil was the next victim when they decided to try and do some homework. And finally, as they abandoned their homework for video games, Bill found a toothpick, rolling it around in his mouth like he was fucking Tom Hardy.

But at least things were contained until Richie lost the game of Mario Cart and flopped back on the bed dramatically, resulting in his lollipop from earlier tumbling out of his pocket.

“You n-never ate y-y-your lollipop?” Bill noted, picking up the small, wrapped item and twirling it in his fingers.

Richie’s not sure why his throat immediately went dry.

“I sort of forgot I had it.”

Bill eyed it with interest, which interested Richie far more than it should. He cocked an eyebrow and proceeded cautiously.

“Do you want it?”

Bill’s eyes darted back to Richie’s, quickly schooling his expression as if he’d been caught.

“Only if you d-don’t.” Bill said, trying for nonchalance, but the catch in his voice betrayed him.

A long pause stretched between them, their eyes locked in an unspoken challenge.

“I’m starting to think I do, actually.” Richie responded with much more fervor than the topic demanded.

Bill watched as Richie took the lollipop from him and began unwrapping the small red sucker. The sound from their video game’s pause screen faded into the background as blood rushed past Richie’s eardrums.

Richie was vulgar, all the Losers knew that; he’d been making jokes about his dick since he first learned he had one. But this was something different. Richie wasn’t trying to be vulgar, he was trying to be… something new.

He popped the lollipop into his mouth, keeping hold of the stick so he could hollow out his cheeks and pull it back out, allowing the round candy to stretch his lips as they parted for it.

Richie continued his ministrations for another minute, keeping his eyes locked on Bill’s, whose own were locked on Richie’s mouth.

Richie, self admittedly, had no idea what he was doing. He tried to channel the pornstars he'd watched, to summon some of their sex appeal to guide him along this unfamiliar experiment. But after a moment, he realized the best person to model himself after was already sitting right in front of him.

Richie thought back to how Bill had been devouring his lollipop back at the diner, how his eyes had gone hazy, his attention far away as he moved his tongue around the sucker like it was second nature. His lips had been shiny with saliva, tinted redder than usual by the cherry flavoring.

Richie took the lollipop out of his mouth and dragged it across his lips lightly, as if he were applying lipstick. It glided easily, sticky with spit, and did the job as it left Richie with a tinted smirk.

He loosened his jaw and let it fall open, allowing his tongue to loll out to lick a stripe up the lollipop in what he hoped was a good imitation of what one would do with a cock. To be fair, Richie had never sucked a cock before, so he was blindly guessing. But it seemed to do the trick, because Bill's eyes suddenly broke from their trance, squeezing shut.

"Not f-f-fair, R-Rich..." Bill's voice was broken, mimicking something between a whine and a whisper.

"You want something to suck on, Billy?" Richie asked, surprising himself with his sure-fire tone.

Bill was still for a moment, but when he opened his eyes again, there was something new behind his blown-out black pupils. He nodded meekly, as if scared to admit anything aloud just yet.

"Well jeez, Bill. I've only got the one." Richie gestured with his lollipop, as if to prove his point. “I may have something else for you to suck on though.”

It was a poor attempt at a joke, absent of the usual air of humor that accompanied Richie’s jests. But maybe that’s because it wasn’t much of a joke at all; even though neither of them were quite ready to admit it, they could both feel the change in the air between them.

“Anything.” Bill’s voice was still quiet, but it had steadied out as if the prospect of Richie’s suggestion had sated something in him. Richie had to suppress a shiver.

Richie twisted his body to spring off the mattress, and the sudden action caused Bill to follow, moving himself to sit up on his knees and face where Richie stood at the end of the bed.

Neither of them knew how to proceed, cautious to cross the other’s boundary but excited by the new thrum in the air. Richie was the first to move.

He removed the lollipop from his mouth and place it on Bill’s nightstand before reaching forward and cupping Bill's chin, tipping his head up to lock their eyes. Moving slowly, allowing Bill time to move away if he wanted, he let the pad of his thumb gently trace the outline of rosy red lips, and Bill obediently opened under the touch. He darted his tongue out to lick at Richie's finger, wrapping around it and leading him back into his open gape. Once Richie's thumb was resting inside the warm entrance, Bill closed his lips around his knuckle, and with the most confidence Richie had ever seen on Bill, he began to suck.

It was the filthiest thing Richie had ever fucking witnessed in person, and for a moment he was sure he'd been transported to some alternate porn dimension. Bill moved like he knew exactly what he was doing. Richie wondered absently if Bill had done this before, not sucking the life out of someone's thumb, but sucking the life out of something else.

Bill's tongue licked up the sides of his finger like he was trying to catch the drips from a popsicle, and then he was biting down gently into the pad of his thumb, making Richie shiver delightfully.

He pulled off with a heave of breath before uttering four words that were enough to leave Richie speechless.

"Let me taste you." Bill begged.

Richie could have cum on the spot at the mere fact that Bill was so lust-drunk just from sucking on his finger that he didn't even stutter. But if he did, he'd miss out on probably the best blowjob of his life (the only blowjob of his life, thus far), so he had to keep it together.

Now, let it be known that Richie isn't proud of how quickly he whipped out his dick. There was no grace, no sensual teasing or tantalizing movements; it was all fumbling fingers and uncoordinated shimmies as he struggled to get his dick to hit the air before Bill somehow decided to change his mind.

"Uh... Taa-daaaaa." Richie pointed in the direction of his erection with two unsure hands, an awkward moment passing until Richie glanced upwards.

Bill wore an amused smirk when Richie reverted his attention back to him. It was endearing, but Richie already missed the blissed out, desperate expression he'd had not mere seconds ago.

So, Richie decided he would just have to do better. If he wanted to wipe that smirk off Bill’s face, he’d have to step up. No more awkwardness or unsure movements, Richie needed to take control.

Besides, his life moto was "fake it 'till you make it", why couldn't it apply here as well?

Richie willed his hand to stop shaking before he reached out and carded his fingers through familiar auburn locks, pushing them off Bill's forehead and holding them back with a firm grip. That same grip allowed him to pull Bill's head forward, leading him until he was right in front of Richie's cock.

That look that Richie was chasing slowly began to filter back in. Bill's eyes glazed over as he gazed down at the leaking head being offered to him, his jaw going slack as he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, and finally his whole body followed as it slumped forward with the first lick to Richie's head.

Richie felt drunk, his own head swimming with arousal and a lack of blood flow. Bill looked so good like this; Richie wasn't sure he would ever recover from the image.

But if looks alone were enough to kill, the feeling of Bill's mouth must have summoned him back from the afterlife just to murder him a second time.

When this was all over and Richie had had his brains blown out of him, literally, he was gonna have a lot of questions for Bill. Mainly, had he done this before, and if not, then where the hell had he learned to do that thing with his tongue.

It wasn't long before Bill ceased his lapping and moved to take Richie into his mouth in full. Richie wasn't one to brag (a lie he told himself) but he could physically see the strain on Bill's jaw as it struggled to open wide enough to take his whole cock. Though, if Richie were being honest with himself, it probably had more to do with the size of Bill's mouth than the size of Richie's appendage. But for the moment he allowed himself the ego-boost.

"Bill, jesus fuck, that feels good..." Richie's own voice came out unfamiliar to him, wavering far more than he'd have liked. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"You've always looked good with something between your lips, but fuck, it's like you were made for this."

Bill disconnected from Richie's cock with a wet slurp and Richie had to swallow down the noise his body tried to make in response.

"S-s-so you w-were staring at the d-diner earlier." Bill's gaze was mischievous, as if he'd caught Richie in a lie and now he'd earned himself a prize.

"I'm pretty sure everyone was staring, Billy. You were basically fellatio-ing the damn lollipop."

"F-fellatio-ing isn't a word R-Richie."

"I'm the one getting fellatio'd right now, I think I'd know."

"Well, you won't be for m-m-much longer i-if you keep making up w-w-words."

"How do I shut you up? Where's your off button."

Bill glanced down at the cock still held in his hand, and then slowly raked his eyes back up Richie's form. The implication was clear, and Richie was more than happy to oblige.

Richie replaced Bill's hand with his own, his other flying back into Bill's hair to pull him closer. He led Bill back to the head of his cock, taking a moment to paint his lips with the pre-cum that had pearled at the slit. Bill's lips felt like velvet as he rubbed himself against them, but it wasn't nearly enough.

“Open.” Richie commanded, honestly surprised when he was met with obedience instead of a snarky remark. It made his cock twitch as it entered Bill’s mouth.

No more accurate definition of euphoria came to mind as Richie sunk into the heat of Bill’s mouth, shuddering as every inch of his cock was enveloped. Bill kept his eyes squeezed shut as he willed his jaw to take everything Richie was giving him.

When Richie felt the head of his cock reach resistance, he still had about half of his shaft exposed. There was nowhere else to go unless Richie was going to start feeding it down Bill’s throat, and while that thought did make a new rush of arousal flood his body, he didn’t think now would be the best time to try it.

At the pause in movement, Bill opened his eyes, blinking away tears that had gathered along his eyelashes. Richie could see the cogs turning in Bill’s head as he assessed the situation in front of him in the same way Bill problem solved every roadblock he encountered: with reckless determination.

Bill tried to move himself forward, quickly realizing his mistake as his gag reflex kicked in. The resulting noise was so much hotter than it had any right to be, and Richie had to physically hold himself back from trying to trigger it again.

In stubborn acceptance, Bill brought his hand up to circle around the rest of the shaft he couldn’t fit inside his mouth. Richie loosened his grip on Bill’s hair to allow him to move however he needed, and instantly Bill’s head began bobbing in tandem with small twists of his wrist.

“Holy shit, ahhhhh- what the fuck D-Denbrough.” Richie’s words spilled out in a rush, tripping over themselves with a quiver.

Bill pulled back until only the crown of Richie’s cock laid between his lips, setting his tongue to work at the slit as if he could coax out more of Richie’s pre-cum just like that. When Richie’s thighs began to quake, Bill tilted his head and moved ever so slightly so his tongue could lap at the soft tissue that connected Richie’s head to the rest of his cock.

Richie released a sound that would have been embarrassing in any other circumstance, high-pitched and needy in tone. It only seemed to make Bill move faster.

Bill moved back down the shaft, running his tongue along what he could reach, his hand working the rest. He began picking up pace, flitting his eyes open and gazing up at Richie with pure lust-blown pupils.

Richie had a flashback to earlier that day, watching Bill suck on his lollipop with poorly feigned innocence, juxtaposed with the debauched expression he wore now. There was no fooling anyone, Bill wanted this. He needed this. He’d probably needed it for a long time, and that thought spurred Richie on.

“You wanna taste me, huh?” Richie began thrusting in time with Bill, punching a pleasured moan out of him. He chanced a glance down at Bill’s lap for the first time since they’d begun fooling around and noticed the bulge straining to escape his jeans. It gave Richie even more satisfaction to know Bill was deriving just as much pleasure from this as he was.

“Bet I taste better than that fucking lollipop, ahhh, fuck-” Richie’s thrusts were getting unsteady. He could see drool escaping the corners of Bill’s mouth as he struggled to keep up with Richie’s pace.

Richie was getting close, the warmth in his belly coming to a boil as the heat around him become too much to bear. Richie pulled his shirt up, holding it bunched to his chest so he would have a better view of Bill’s face as he swallowed Richie’s cum.

That thought is what finally pushed Richie over the edge, screaming out a delayed warning that did neither of them much good as Richie’s cock was already emptying into Bill’s mouth.

Thankfully, Bill didn’t seem to mind the lack of a warning, doubling his efforts to suck Richie through his orgasm, taking more of him in than he had been able to before.

Reckless determination.

Richie was squeezing his eyes so tight that stars began to illuminate the black sky behind his lids. A fuzzy feeling accompanied them, starting in his head and spreading through his limbs. It mixed with the overwhelming pleasure in each of his nerve endings, dizzying him with overwhelming sensations, and then there was nothing.

Richie thinks he must have blacked out for a second because suddenly he’s splayed across Bill's bed, staring up at the ceiling. His fingertips were still tingling, and his throat was dry and hoarse, but those were the only indications that what just happened hadn't just been a dream.

Richie propped himself up on his elbows, looking around the room in an attempt to piece things together. Bill was nowhere to be found, which made Richie entertain the dream idea even more. He could have fallen asleep on Bill’s bed, had a wet dream inspired by Bill's casual affair with lollipops… he probably moaned in his sleep and scared Bill off, even.

“Drink.”

Richie nearly jumped out of his skin as Bill suddenly appeared beside him.

“Holy fuck, Casper! Warn a guy!”

A cup of water was thrust into Richie’s hands, and without having to think much about it he brought it to his lips and downed a generous amount. His throat thanked him immediately.

“What were you m-m-mutt-ttering about?” Bill asked, hopping on to the bed beside Richie and causing the mattress to wobble them both slightly.

“I was just… trying to figure something out…” Richie raked his eyes up and down Bill’s form, trying to find any sign that he’d actually had Richie’s cock down his throat not even five minutes ago, but the boy looked as kempt as usual.

“Okay, w-well once you figure it out, can y-y-you put your dick b-back in your pants? Georgie is gonna b-be home soon.”

Richie blanched, moving comically slow as he looked down at his lap, revealing that his dick was, as stated, very much not in its confines.

Bill shifted beside him, and it was enough to shake Richie out of his ‘holy shit that actually happened it wasn’t just a dream bill denbrough is a fucking dick sucking god’ epiphany.

Once he was all tucked back in and had finished the glass of water Bill had generously (and forcefully) provided, he finally allowed himself to look at his friend again.

Bill was already watching him, a gentle smile playing on his features as he rolled the lollipop from earlier around in his mouth.

“You’re fucking insatiable, you know that?” Richie’s heart was thrumming in his chest, unanswered questions clawing to get out. But before he had a chance to ask them, Bill removed the candy from his mouth just long enough to lean forward and capture Richie’s lips in a kiss.

It was a little shy, a little tender; the complete opposite from the way Bill’s mouth worked itself along his cock. Richie decided that he liked it that way.

When Bill pulled back, they were both red enough to rival the lollipop in Bill’s hand, which he wasted no time in replacing between his lips.

“By th-the w-way,” Bill began, settling into Richie’s side and reaching for his controller to unpause their game. “You d-don’t taste better th-th-than a lollipop.” That playful smile was back on Bill’s lips.

“I guess I can’t compete with artificial cherry flavor.” Richie conceded, following Bill’s lead and retrieving his own controller.

“I still like you b-better.” Bill stated with so much certainty that Richie felt his whole world solidify.

#bichie #bill denbrough #richie tozier #bichie fanfic #bichie fanfiction #bichie smut #bichie lemon #my writing

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

Yandere Fling Posse Headcanons // Hypnosis Mic X Reader//

NGL I didn’t really like Fling posse before writing this,but now ....💓💓💓 Also huge thanks to @minoux-x for the help with writing these HC’s!!

🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲

ramuda amemura

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At first glance, Ramuda can't even be classified as a yandere! He's so sweet and loving, constantly showering his sweetheart with candies and new clothes. Every word that leaves his mouth is a love-filled melody that melt's his s/o's heart! He's just the absolute best boyfriend anyone could ask for!...

But life isn't a fairy tale and Ramuda must certainly isn't the prince charming he pretends to be. All those gifts and sweet words where just strings to tie you up with turning you into his little dancing puppet. You'll soon find yourself all alone, walking on a tight rope of Ramuda's lies. Everything is so blurry, just when did you stop texting your childhood best friend and when was the last time you even saw your mother and father. Every single memory you can recall seems to be centered around the pink-haired lollipop enthusiast.

"Sweetheart..."

Sometimes when you lie in bed next to your "boyfriend", squeezed tightly to his chest. Your mind rushes back into the past, burrowing through each and every nook and cranny of your soul to attempt to recall any stretch of the imagination that may have even hinted at life before Easy R. Sometimes you recall certain hobbies you use to take pleasure in, reading, writing, drawing, basic things that everyone must have enjoyed but...but then he said that you didn't need them, all your books began to slowly disappear, all your sketchbooks just vanished one day and every time you tried to type a single word, Ramuda would lay himself over your lap demanding attention. Funny how now, the tables have turned and you're the one begging for the pink-haired man's attention every second of the dame day.

Ramuda practically treats his darling like a little doll. He's persisting in making sure to erase anything in her life that isn't him. He doesn't mind her being numb and brainless, so long as conscious enough to give him kisses and hugs, suffocating him with all her attention. He adores dressing them in the "cutest" most girly dresses that he can make. styling their hair and fixing up their makeup. But be warned one wrong move, one simple word about not liking one of his dresses and you're in for a painful punishment.

Punishments are where Ramuda's dark side really shines through, where his carefree "playful" person cracks, revealing the ugly truth nesting within. His punishments are always dehumanizing in a way, always reminding you that you are nothing but a doll, a marionette with the sole purpose to entertain him. His favorite discipline is pokes sewing needles into his darling's flesh, making her scream out in pain and confusion. Oh, how her cries of pain are sweeter than any dessert! Speaking of sweets, if you dare misbehave than Ramuda is going to take away your "eating privileges" only if you beg will he let you have a tiny scrap to eat. Usually in the form of the vilest tasting candies in all of Japan.

"wanna have some fun with me?"

Gentaro Yumeno

🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮

Gentaro is an extremely manipulative yandere, who's also greatly delusional, he'll slither his way into the mind of his darling, twisting their every thought to revolve around him and only him. He likes watching his lover fall into an endless pit of despair, making them question their own reality and truths.

It took almost an eternity for "Phantom" to find his one true darling. He's all so extremely picky about what they must be like. He wants an intellectual who he can compare wits with. Someone who understands him on spiritual bases. Easy to say that such a person was extremely hard to find. But when he does find "the one" there is no way in hell that he's going to let them get away that easily. He'll stalk them where ever they go, following them, day and night, memorizing their schedules. When he starts to notice the lack of his attention his darling gives him, Gentaro will start to take his delusions out on paper. Writing draft after draft about the "perfect" love story between you two. How he's the intelligent scholar that recuses the poor maiden from her mundane, dreadful life, whisking her away into a world of fantasies and knowledge. But soon, very, very soon, poor Gentaro will get bored with these tales and wish to experience the real thing. It's then that he truly becomes the protagonist of his stories. "saving" you in the dead of night, open the door of both your heart and mind to his great reality. "I love you (Y/N)~"

Life with Gentaro is extremely complex. You never know what true and what's a lie. Your self proclaimed "lover" is a pathological liar, with an icy heart! Failing to distinguish between his lies and reality often leads to both punishments and parts of your sanity chipping away. Of course, Gentaro would never hurt you, no, no he loves you too much. If you wake up to a broken leg to finger pulled out of their socket it must have been someone else. He twisted the fables in such a dreamy manner that you are just about to believe him...that is until he says he infamous catchphrase "that's just a lie" and continues to degrade you for not being able to distinguish such a clean distortion.

Over time you begin to cage yourself in a glass cage made up of Phantom's lies. Using those that benefit you and make you truly believe that he loves you to guard you against the harsh reality of all the cruel, inhumane things he has done to you.

YOU LOVE HIM AND HE LOVES YOU...... OR IS THAT TOO JUST A LIE?

"I promise that is no lie, my love"

Dice Arisugawa

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Dice is a very hard yandere to pin, mostly due to his rather air headed and careless nature. But a good way to describe him is a delusional obsessive. In the eyes of Dead or Alive you are nothing more than a prize, a valuable trophy much more precious than any gold or diamond, but a prize never the less. He will do anything to win his lovely darling. Noting is off the table. killing some punk that made eyes at you? Sure, let him just roll his dice to see whether he should use a knife or ax. Maybe you require money? That's no problem, he just needs to borrow some cash from Rio to play with and hopefully win you a generous sum. Of course, he is going to expect some reimbursement sooner or later.

Dice isn't a fool, he's going to aim for a more unfortunate, desperate darling. One that he can easily talk into joining him in a "friendly" game of cards. It's the game of a lifetime, nothing is off the table. Dice is ready to bet his every last yen he owns, his arms, legs, heck even his organs. Just so he can lure his naive little lover in so deep that she'll have no choice but to bet her self as the final prize. BET IT ALL, That's when the gambling junkie will swoop in, revealing his final hand, a royal flush!

That look of utter despair and helplessness in his darling's eyes is more addicting than any Slot Machines. It's making his heart rush a mile a minute. He's almost positive that his rib cage is going to break from the sheer pressure of each heartbeat. You're him now! He won you! Oh, luck was truly on his side tonight!

"You're my lucky charm (y/n)...."

Life is just one long game with Dice Arisugawa, he'll teach you every rule, ever outcome. But it's all up to you, every breath you take has it's consequences, every step has to be pondered on. But all so very soon you will become an expert at his little Backgammon game. Gradually Dice will let his guard down, after all the name is rather naive and far too trusting for his own good. This would be the perfect time for his sweet darling to escape...that is if she hasn't become too broken and addicted to Dice.

Dice isn't very harsh on punishments, he's quite lax with any form of disobedience. A quick slap to the face or some shouting is as far as he'll go. Of course, they're also the lingering threats that he so casually spews. "(y/n) if you don't behave I'll bid you off the next time I'm out of cash."

"Now, now (y/n) is that any way to talk to the man that practically owns your life? Why don't I just kill you right here and now? I'm sure your body parts must be work some yen, right?"

They're mild, bordering on humor, but it's hard not to take them seriously when you see just how obsessed Dice can get with any game at any time. There is always the possibility you'll wake up without a kidney, or a lung or maybe even your right arm, just because he ran out of money for a poker game. These tiny threats and obsessive tendencies are enough to make his darling completely docile and submissive, out of pure fear for what the unpredictable blue-headed man may do to her.

"...I'm never letting you go~

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

Something Just Like This - CH32

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: Just a sweet, fluffy and NSFW chapter

WC: 3430

A/N: You get two chapters from me today. Please read this one first. Don’t spoil it for yourself! This chapter is just a little fluff and smut but there's angst in there as well. If you read carefully (not the smut part), you'll see the angst in there.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Life’s pretty much back to normal fourteen days after. The scar on Dean’s face is almost invisible. Y/N was glad because every time she looked at the scar she had that cloud over her face and Dean knows that she still blames herself for it.

She’s told him countless times that if it wasn’t for her, Ketch wouldn’t have even found out who Dean was and wouldn’t have shown up and tried to hand him over to the Feds.

Although she doesn’t say it, but Dean takes a wild guess that Ketch was still working for the MI6 and had probably been sent here to dig up some dirt. Of course Ash couldn’t find any information on him. It’s like that dude never existed and it’s weird, like, really weird. Something feels off, but Dean can’t quite put a finger on it.

But now he doesn’t have to. Ketch is off the radar and there’s no interference since. So, actually, life’s pretty good right now. As good as it can be.

Today’s their four months anniversary. They never celebrated actually because they could never agree on a date. They don’t really know when it all started, the lines blur together. For Dean, though, it has all started when he walked into the bar that fateful night. And that’s the date he goes by whether she likes it or not.

He wakes before her and looks over, she’s still sleeping, both of her arms high up above her head, the blanket only covers her to her navel, one leg outside of it. Her lips are slightly parted, her hair is tied into a bun but it’s all messy. Her tits are on display too, because she became accustomed to sleep in only her panties and Dean likes it as much as he hates it because he can barely hold himself back from touching her.

It’s easy, Dean thinks, so easy to snuggle close and trailing the tip of his nose against her warm cheeks. Easy to tickle her skin with the fluff of his scruff.

She stirs, groans a little.

Dean chuckles at that, one of his hands strokes her stomach under the cover, works its way up to cup her tit.

There’s another stir and she gobbles, turning her head to the side but not quite opening her eyes. He knows she’s awake. She must be.

His fingers twist at her nipple, rolls it between them and his tongue starts to flicker against the other nipple, they both begin to harden.

She groans again and Dean grins, sucks in her tits and pulls with his teeth.

“Dean!” Y/N yelps up.

There it is.

He pops the tit out of his mouth, takes the opportunity and keeps her hands pinned above her head with both of his hands as he climbs on top of her.

“Happy anniversary.” He says, noses along her nose and kisses her.

“Anniversary of what?” She mumbles against his lips.

“Our meeting.” He answers, places kisses down her chin and throat, feels her arch her back, pressing her body closer to his. She’s always so fucking responsive.

Dean lets go, though, rolls back to his side and opens his bedside drawer to take out a card, before rolling himself back and handing it to her.

She’s still yawning and rubs at her eyes with her hands and then she looks at the card, frowning. “I didn’t get anything for you.” She takes it anyway and opens the envelope.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll give me something.” He winks and it’s cocky he knows because she’s rolling her eyes.

Y/N takes out the card and he watches her face. It goes from frowning to a smile and Dean’s heart skips.

The front of the card reads:

I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW MUCH I’M NOT SICK OF YOU!

And on the inside, he wrote:

YOU’RE STILL DEFINITELY THE BEST FUCKING DECISION I’VE EVER MADE XX D.

She laughs heartily and Dean hugs her, pulls her close and kisses her temple.

“Thank you.” She kisses his cheek, “Now I feel bad for not knowing what today is.” She says with a pout.

Dean lets her bury her face in the crook of his neck. “Oh I have an idea what you could do.”

“What?” She mumbles against his skin, and he knows that she expects him to say something nasty.

“You remember the auction?”

“Oh no…”

He laughs, “Oh, yes!” And then he adds, “First thing’s first. We’re taking a morning bath.”

It’s weird, Dean thinks. He’s never ever taken a bath before she came along. He’s not even sure if he ever used the bathtub except for the times he fell asleep in it drunk as a lord. Since he asked her to take a bath with him the first time, it became their escape, their sanctuary. Taking baths with her seems to stop time, stretching out the mornings or nights, pushing back obligations. It feels like it’s just them and Dean likes that. Likes the comfort of being naked with her in the tub. Not only the sexual aspect but also the intimacy it provides. He can’t imagine taking a bath with someone else and that should say something.

Y/N’s in the bathroom, putting on finishing touches. Dean had slipped out of the room after their bath and is now waiting for her. She doesn’t bother with make up or anything really, just a hydration cream but she did let her hair loose and tried to curl them but of course it’s a futile attempt. They can never stay the way they should. It’s frustrating, really.

She walks out, braces one hand on the door frame. Dean’s grinning at her from the bed. He has his head propped up on his hands, the blanket covers his legs to his navel. He looks delicious, it’s not fair.

“This is ridiculous.” She sighs and Dean raises an eyebrow because he doesn’t agree with her thinking his idea is ridiculous, obviously.

Dean wanted her to wear one of his dress shirts so he fishes out the one he wore yesterday from the hamper. He doesn’t want her to wear a new one apparently because it smells of him and he likes that. He also requested she wears a garter belt and stockings. And yes, it’s ridiculous because first of all, they won’t be needing clothes for what they’re about to do anyway, and second of all, the shirt’s too big and she’s drowning in it. She can’t really believe that she oozes with sexappeal while wearing that, honestly.

“It’s not.” Dean swallows and he looks at her like he could eat her alive. “Come here.”

She pouts a little, climbs on the bed and crawls up to him on all fours. Her knees are on either side of him and she hovers above him.

“You look so fucking sexy in my shirt.” He growls, hooks his finger into the open collar and pulls her close for a kiss. “You know why I want you to wear it?”

“So I would smell like you?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles, “Because you’re mine and I’m keeping you for as long as you’ll let me.”

“And if I don’t wanna be yours anymore?”

She can feel him tensing underneath her. He looks at her, his eyes are sincere, “Then I will respect your decision even though it’ll probably kill me.”

He kisses her again then, tries to not think about it and she pours everything into the kiss, nibbles at his bottom lips, sucks in his tongue and makes him moan into her open mouth.

Dean turns them around, so that he’s on top and lowers his face, kisses her like he means it, like he’s begging her to stay and let him keep her with every touch of their lips.

His hands skim over her body, lips trailing over her chin, down her throat. He sucks at her pulse point, makes her close her eyes and moan his name.

She writhes when he uses his teeth, bites a mark and sucks at the skin, draws blood to the surface. “You’re mine,” He says with her flesh between his teeth and she nods, because she is. She really, truly is, and she wants him to keep her, wants it so much even if she knows that it’s wishful thinking on her part.

He works his way down, unbuttons the shirt with skilled fingers, cups both her tits in his hands and squeezes them together. His tongue flickers over her nipples, one after another, sucks and bites at them, and she scrambles for purchase at the top of his back, hands finding his head, fists in his hair. “Prettiest tits, fuck,” He curses, seals his lips around the peak, lets it out again with a pop and she feels the tip of his hard cock brushing at her thighs, leaving a wet trail as his face works its way further down.

His teeth nibbles at her stomach, tongue dipping down into her navel, and then he’s in between her thighs, both of his hands fold her legs up by the back of her knees.

“I thought I should tend to your needs and not the other way around.” She says, reminding him that he bid on the PA and not the other way around.

Dean chuckles, hot air breathes against her bare and wet cunt. “Oh, baby, that is my need.”

He swipes his tongue through her fold, parting her lips, the tip of his tongue tickling at her clit as his thumbs hold her open.

“As sweet as ever,” He blows warm air against her wet pussy, before he dives in again, eats her out, and hums with pleasure.

Y/N writhes above him and he has to hold her still.

While Dean licks at her like she’s the best fucking lollipop, he takes his hand from the back of her legs and skims them across the back of her thighs until his fingers dip into the slick at the entrance of her pussy.

He makes space for his fingers inside of her, moves his mouth up until he’s only sucking her clit while he drives two of his fingers inside. Dean curves them right, fucks into her slow and deep.

She keens, pushes her hips up, grinds her cunt against his mouth. Her hands find his hair, fists at them, driving her nail into his scalp. She’s so close already, and is panting hard.

Dean knows of course and pauses to chuckle before he looks up to her. Their eyes meet and then he winks before pushing another finger in alongside the two already inside.

“Dean!” Y/N yelps up, and then Dean stop sucking at her clit and she knows that he abandons eating her out in favor of making her squirt because he’s fucking her roughly, with three fingers.

He moves up keep one of her legs wrap around his body as he leans forward and down, the fingers that’s not fucking her twists at her nipple before they move to claw around her throat.

She fists the sheets before one hand flies to the hand that’s choking her. Dean kisses her, rough and hard.

The sloshing sound that’s coming out of her wet pussy makes her blush.

“Shit,” She sounds broken, barely audible.

Dean lays his forehead against hers, “Come baby, come for me,”

And that’s it, that’s really all it takes for her stomach to cramp up, all it takes for her legs to shake, her eyes to cross and her eyelids to flutter as she comes with a cry. The sloshing sound is still there as he fucks her lazily before he takes it out of her and rubs at her sensitive clit.

She yelps at his touch but then laughs and he presses his lips to hers after whispering, “Good girl.”

He kisses her, hard, hungry and fucking dirty.

“Dean,” She whines, her hands on his shoulder, squeezing and clawing.

He kisses her nose, her lips, her jaw, whispering, “I got you, baby.” Before moving down and spreading her legs, almost folding her in half again.

Dean rubs his shaft along her pussy lips, coats it in her slick and oh god, it feels so good already but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.

“What do you want?”

“Your cock in me. Now.” Y/N has learned to tell what she wants and doesn’t shy away anymore.

He chuckles but is still stalling, still teasing her.

“Please, daddy?”

“Fuck, baby,” Dean almost lost his cool, almost slips in without meaning to. Because he’s a little shit like that, she knows. Likes to tease her as much as she likes to tease him. “Take it, put it where you want me.”

She grins, her hand reaches down, strokes him a couple of times before she places the head of his cock to her entrance and Dean pushes in, going deeper with every move of his hips.

They groan out at the same time. He fills her so good, goes in deep, knows that she likes it that way.

His hands now on her calves, pushing them up high as he fucks her faster. “Is that okay?” He asks like he still needs to make sure.

“Yeah,” Y/N swallows, pinching her nipple with one hand as the other one goes down to play with herself.

When she comes again on his cock, her pussy pushes him out and Dean hurriedly slips right back in, fucks her faster, slips out two more times and he has to chuckle at that, “Your pussy’s too damn wet baby. Come on, on all fours.”

He moves from the bed, makes room for her to take off the shirt and positions herself on all fours in front of the mirror. She sees him through the mirror, sees him climb back to the bed, sees him bend his head down, sucks and licks at her for a short moment while he fists his own cock as he slaps the free hand down on her ass cheek, rests it there and squeezes her flesh.

Dean strokes himself a couple more times, spanks her twice more before he places his dick to her entrance. “Back up, baby.” He says and waits for her to fuck back into him.

And of course she does, at this point she’s too desperate not to. She lowers her body onto her elbows and moves her hips, fucking herself back onto his cock and after a while, Dean meets her halfway. “So good, baby. Such a good girl fucking yourself on my cock. Fuck, wish you could see how good you look from up here.”

His hands are now firm on her ass, spanks her once more, the sting makes her moan out loud.

“Harder.” She pants.

“Harder?”

“Yeah, spank me harder.”

“Christ,” Dean is panting as he brings his hand down on her ass, hard, loud. It hurts so good. “So fucking sexy when you ask for what you want.”

“Fuck,” She breathes out, her eyes look to the mirror, sees him grip at the flesh on her lower back, squeezes it so hard she’s sure he’s going to leave bruises. “Fuck me harder, please.”

“You sure about that?” He asks because he’s already fucking her pretty hard and she knows that because it’s bordering on pain when his dick goes too deep but yes, she’s sure, she wants more. So much more.

“Yes, Dean, please.” Y/N’s aware that she sounds whiny and at this point, she can’t bring herself to care.

“Okay,” He says, and then again, “Okay.”

She can see through the mirror that he repositions himself, bracing one leg up to the side so he has better balance. Both his hands skims up her back, fingertips bumping along her spine until he reaches her shoulder. One hand goes to her hair, pulling at them to keep her face trained on the mirror as he fucks her harder and so much faster.

“Fuck, look at you. Taking my dick so fucking good. Good girl.” Dean’s almost out of breath, pistons his hips against her rear, the sound they make is lewd and loud, skin slapping against skin, obscene moans and groans fills the room.

And she sees if, sees herself in the reflection, sees his hand in her hair, his leg standing out, braced out to the side. Sees the crease his stomach and groin makes when he moves, thinks it’s fucking hot. He always said that she turns him on so much but he has no idea how much he turns her on. How she could come from watching him fuck her alone. And just like that, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, she comes quiet but hard, her legs give out and she slumps down, her pussy’s gripping him tight so Dean’s coming down with her, pushes in deep once more.

“Shit, baby, that’s a fucking amazing orgasm.” He’s grinning as he fucks into her lazily, when the walls aren’t as tight anymore.

When her walls are finally loose enough, he slips out, turns around to lie back on the bed, head props up on a pillow. “Come on, ride me.”

She’s still holding her pussy, covering it because it feels over-sensitive. “Oh my god Dean, I don’t know if I have the strength to be on top.”

“Trust me, I got you, baby.” He beckons her over with a gesture of his hands, and then he adds. “Besides, I’m barely holding myself together right now. I’m gonna burst soon.”

She gets up, walks up to the bed on her knees and then she straddles him. Her hands strokes him before he puts the head of his dick to her entrance and sits down on it. She’s so wet it slips right in.

At first she sets the pace, circling and grinding on his cock while Dean’s hands are on her hips, helping her grind.

“You’re fucking amazing,” He says and looks up at her with adoration in his eyes while his arms go up to knead at her tits. “I’m close.”

He pulls her down then, wraps his arms around her middle and she’s on her knees, both on either side of his body. He fucks up into her, hard, fast and with wild abandon while he whispers in her ear, “You gonna come with me? Can you do that, huh baby?”

“I-I can try.” She says and lets herself fall. She’s sucking at his throat before Dean makes her look up and then he kisses her when she comes, following her over the edge right after.

He’s still holding her as they come down from their high. His dick still lazily fucking her, the feel of wet cum in between them.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out and smiles when she holds herself up, looking down at him. “I think we need a shower.”

The day with her being his PA was filled with both of them walking around the house naked and Dean eats her out right at the kitchen counter when he wanted to prepare lunch. After he finally made lunch, he made her sit in his lap while they ate and slipped right in but didn't move. Made her sit there with his dick inside of her and every time she would wiggle her hips, he held her still and that, is pure torture.

Y/N sucks him later when he was asleep on the couch, woke him right up and made him come down her throat.

It was good. Really good. Dean made it a challenge to see how many times he could make her come. She lost track after fourteen and she doesn’t think that he still has an overview of the score.

At the end of the day, they were exhausted and while they’re sitting around naked, eating leftover pizza, she’s still leaking cum all over. Dean jokes that his dick is swollen and raw so she can’t be expecting him to fuck her in the next couple of days but then he winks and he says that he’s going to eat her twice a day instead, she snorts out a laugh, the bite of pizza flying right out of her mouth.

It’s easy with him, she thinks. Easy how they can fuck like animals but can chill and calm down together and joke around. Easy how they can draw strengths from one another. Easy how they know each other's boundaries. It’s easy to love him.

CH33

#something just like this #dean winchester #mobster!dean #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #nathalie writes

196 notes · View notes

1988hc · 3 years

Text

"Shit babe, I just, I don't know if I can do the work tonight," TK says, face scrunching up as he withdraws from Nolan's mouth.

Nolan frowns. He just started getting into it, TK's dick pushing past his lips, hips working in tight little thrusts, just the way Nolan likes it. TK had even pulled on his hair a little.

TK thumbs at Nolan's mouth, wiping away a trace of spit. His dick is still hard and shiny with Nolan's spit, bobbing in the air. "Maybe some other day, eh babe?"

He sounds apologetic, like. Shit. Not like someone who got first star tonight. In fact, TK sounds downright exhausted.

"Sit down."

"What?" TK looks confused, even though Nolan knows he heard him perfectly well. The room is pretty quiet, not a whole lot of guys still left, the ones who are mostly quietly tending to their equipment, getting stretched out, G working on his foam roller over in the corner.

"I said, sit down," Nolan says, making sure to speak clearly. When TK just continues standing in front of him, staring at him dumbly, Nolan sighs, stands up, and pushes TK down by the shoulders onto the bench.

It's not something he usually does. In fact, it's nearly unheard of. Nolan is happy to play with whoever got first star honors that night, provided they put in the work. Nolan Patrick does not get on his knees for anybody.

He does now, dropping to the floor in front of Travis, shouldering between his legs none too gently when TK doesn't get with the program quickly enough.

"Patty, you don't have to..." TK starts weakly, but Nolan just glares at him.

"Shut up."

He's not interested in discussing this. Certainly doesn't want to examine the fluttery feeling in his stomach at the thought of TK turning down his celebratory blowjob.

"What the fuuuuuck?" Comes an incredulous voice from somewhere over Nolan's shoulder. "Why does Teeks get special treatment? He isn't even hurt! You didn't go down for me last month!"

Nolan turns around, staring at Farabee. The movement pulls a little on his hair, from where TK's fingers have strayed back into it, curled around a few strands. Nolan ignores the lurch in his stomach at that. "Maybe you didn't deserve it."

"I was first star!" Bee protests. "I couldn't fucking stand after that puck to the knee and all you did was shrug and told me to find someone else to do it then."

"You didn't get a Gordie Howe," Nolan shoots back, and just the thought of TK's goal in the first, his assist on Ghost's powerplay redirect and then the way he had planted one on DeBrusk in the third, wrestling him down to the ice, has Nolan's own pants growing a little tighter.

He turns back to TK, doesn't wait for anyone else to say anything, sliding TK's dick back into his mouth. TK's dick is like the most perfect dick on the team, the perfect girth to make Nolan work for it without giving him lock-jaw, uncut and curved just the tiniest bit to the left, and Nolan likes playing with his foreskin, likes pulling it up and sliding his tongue inside, lapping up the bursts of precome. TK's fingers tighten in his hair, TK letting out an appreciative moan, and Nolan sucks a little harder, works on taking him a little deeper.

"This is fucking favoritism," Bee whines, but it's quiet enough that Nolan feels justified in ignoring it, focusing instead on fitting TK's dick down his throat. It's easier, usually, when all he has to do is tip his head back and let TK push inside, when he can fist a hand in TK's sweats to pull him in, instead of having to bend down himself. He has to work, time his breathing, can feel a little spit dribble out and down TK's dick. It's messy, and uncomfortable, straining his neck, knees aching on the hard locker room floor, and Nolan remembers why he usually doesn't do this, why he never does this. He can't seem to find his rhythm, can't slide into that easy space where all he has to do is lie back and let the team take what they need from him, shutting off all his thoughts. Right now, his mind is whirring, trying to catalogue all the little sighs and shifts of TK's hips, trying to figure out how deep to go, how fast, how hard to suck.

"Nolan, Patty, babe," TK mutters, fingers carding through Nolan's hair, pushing it behind his ear. "Just focus on the head."

He's guiding Nolan up, high enough that his dick slips out of Nolan's mouth and Nolan's about to say something, to call this off, this was a bad idea after all when TK shushes him. It's something Nolan positively hates, getting told what to do, but TK sounds fond and soft when he does it, muttering "just let me" and then he's pushing the spongy head of his dick against Nolan's mouth, tracing it over Nolan's lips like the world's most sticky lipstick before nudging at the seam.

And Nolan parts his lips, just enough that TK can slip the tip of his dick inside, caught in the tight seal of Nolan's mouth. It's shallow enough that Nolan can swirl his tongue all around it, flick it against the little cluster of nerves on the underside of the head. TK draws in a sharp breath between his teeth at that, an appreciative hiss, pushing a bit deeper into Patty's mouth. He's got his hands placed firmly on either side of Nolan's head, holding him steady while his hips work in tiny little shifts, not thrusting so much as squirming inside Nolan's mouth and that--. Fuck. Nolan sucks a little harder, presses his tongue against the slit and earns a harsh "fuck, Pat, yeah, just like that. So good for me, babe, look at you, so fucking perfect for me."

Nolan can feel himself flushing, can feel the words drip like honey down his spine. He's sucking on TK's dick like a lollipop, running his tongue over and around, and TK keeps up a steady stream of curses and moans, giving Nolan the shallowest tender face-fuck of the universe, but Nolan doesn't care, not when he's boxed in by TK's legs and hands, his own hands flat on TK's thighs digging into the straining muscle, letting his thoughts scatter as another bright burst of precome blooms across his tongue.

It doesn't take TK long, neither of them has the patience tonight for anything but single-minded focus, and Nolan misses the way TK's dick usually feels pushing into his throat, cutting off his air supply. He doesn't know whether it's his whine, embarrassingly not as muffled as usual, or TK's just thinking about the same thing, but TK moves one hand down to Nolan's throat, stroking over his neck before settling low at the base of it, the dip between Nolan's collar bones framed perfectly between TK's thumb and his fingers, and then TK squeezes just a little and Nolan feels anchored enough that he could fly away.

He makes another sound, this one possibly even more pathetic then the last, but it mingles with TK's harsh breaths, and when TK starts chanting "fuck, fuck, almost there, god" Nolan sucks for all he's worth, flicking his tongue against TK's dick, rubbing it over the ridge of the head and then TK goes quiet, holding his breath and Nolan's mouth floods with the bitter taste of TK's release. He can taste him, can feel TK's dick twitch and squirt inside his mouth and Nolan swallows reflexively, his whole mouth coated with TK's come, an entirely different sensation from when they usually come down his throat, buried so deep that Nolan hardly tastes anything.

He's almost a little remorseful when TK finally hisses and pushes Nolan off from where he'd been suckling on TK's dick, lapping up the last spurts of come.

"Shit, babe, I think you sucked my brains out," TK laughs weakly, looking at Nolan with glazed-over eyes that grow even darker when Nolan smirks a little and licks his lips, smacking them together for extra effect.

There's a space where Nolan knows he should say something, chirp TK for the dumb look on his face, but he can't really think of anything, doesn't let himself think at all when he pushes up from his perch between TK's legs to capture TK's mouth in a kiss.

He doesn't do this either. The team can stick their dicks in Nolan all they want, but nobody gets to kiss Nolan on the mouth, and Nolan certainly never sticks his tongue where it doesn't belong. He doesn't have an explanation for why he does it now, TK's mouth soft and pliant beneath Nolan’s in surprise before he visibly rallies, one hand moving to the back of Nolan's neck.

The first swipe of tongue is a little tentative, just a wet meeting of mouths, but then TK lets out a little sigh and opens up and Nolan dives right in. It's everything the blowjob wasn't, a little rough, a little loud, both of them moaning, pushing too deep too fast, Nolan letting TK taste himself on Nolan's tongue, lick his taste right out of Nolan's mouth. It's slick and dirty in a way that TK's dick in his mouth never came close to, making the blowjob seem almost sweet in comparison. Nolan uses his hands on TK's thighs to push himself up, really get up in TK's face, pushing him deeper into his locker, getting pulled there by TK's hands, roaming over Nolan's back and arms in broad, possessive swipes. And Nolan, he, like. Maybe melts. A little. The kiss between them gentles, a bit, until it's TK nipping at Nolan's lips, teasing him, the soft scratch of his goatee tickling against Nolan's skin, both their mouths stretched in matching little grins.

Nolan will happily sit back and let anyone fuck his throat who gets first star of the night, but he always makes sure it’s them putting in the work. Nolan never, ever, goes on his knees for anybody, doesn’t kiss on the mouth, and he sure as fuck would never in a million years fall in love with a teammate.

Cause that would be just dumb.

…

Shit.

#pattyteeks

7 notes · View notes

ill-skillsgard · 4 years

Note

I've been thinking about Faith giving Faust head and getting frustrated that she can't fit all of him inside her mouth. Faust would have to teach her some tactics to work around his size - using her hands, sucking his balls etc. (Or maybe she just fucking chokes on him, idk 🙈)

Warning: 18+ smut/anti-religious/anti-Christian themes/angst etc.

Faust x Faith Masterpost [x]

Faust wasn’t answering his phone. After the first few unanswered text messages, Faith assumed the worst. When she called, every ring seemed to echo in her head, warning her of things she had to force herself to suppress. She called again. No answer. Her call dropped and the line went dead.

In her fearful heart, Faust’s absence came from sudden disinterest. He had had his way with her, and that was all he needed. It was on to the next girl. Faust said himself: he’d fucked many girls. Some of them once and then never spoke to them again. Was his profession of love just a show? Faith swallowed the knot of anxiety clogging her throat, but it returned, bigger and more constrictive than ever.

Her parents dropped her off at her dorm after church. Faith waited until they drove off and turned the corner before marching to the bus stop, cell phone in hand, still waiting for Faust to return a message. When the bus arrived, she flashed her student card and took a seat near the back so she could hang her head and avoid the stares. In her Sunday best, Faith felt ridiculous, and with tears lining her eyes, she was sure somebody would notice her for the wrong reasons.

Faust’s roommate answered over the intercom with a careless grunt when she pressed the buzzer.

“It’s Faith. Is Faust home?”

His roommate didn’t answer, but the door clicked open, allowing her to pass through. She rode the elevator up, wringing her wrists and smoothing out the front of her dress over and over until she reached the top. As always, loud metal music seeped from under the door at the end of the hallway. She didn’t bother knocking since nobody ever did, and opened the door to find an empty living room.

Faith paused at Faust’s door, pressing her ear to the wood. At first, she heard nothing. Then a hollow clicking noise came from inside. She knocked, but there was no answer.

“Fuck,” she heard Faust mutter. “Oh, fuck.”

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Faith opened the door and peered into the room to find Faust sitting at his computer desk with a large pair of headphones muffling his ears. He was in his boxer shorts, shirtless, legs spread wide under the desk with both his knees bouncing.

The clicking noise came from his drumsticks hitting various pads of an electric drumkit hooked up to his computer. The screen showed a mostly gray interface, streaked with multi-coloured lines. Every time he struck a pad, the line blipped. Faith let out the tension from her overfilled lungs.

“Faust?” She called.

The man didn’t hear her voice, so she came up from behind him and tapped on his shoulder. A startled gasp leapt from his throat as he whirled around in his desk chair, green eyes wide with fright. Faust ripped off his headphones, ready to berate her for startling him, but his words faded fast as she dropped to her knees before him.

She tugged his boxers down to his knees before he dropped his sticks and grabbed hold of her hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked.

Faith continued wrestling his underwear off until he conceded, spreading his legs wide so she could fit between them. One dainty hand rubbed up and down his soft shaft until it twitched and rolled to one side, filling with blood. Faust stopped her.

“How did you get in here?” Faust asked, eyebrows clinching together.

“Your roommate buzzed me in,” she replied.

“Fucking Isak,” he griped. “Aren’t you supposed to be in church?”

“That finished hours ago. Aren’t you supposed to answer your phone when your girlfriend calls?”

“I’m a little busy.”

Faith tried on her most innocent smile. “Too busy for me to suck your dick?”

Before she ducked down, Faust rolled his chair away, though his cock remained fully erect. “I have to get this track recorded.”

She crawled toward him. Faust noticed her hair tied up in a glistening pink ribbon, and the gold cross shining across her collarbone. The dress she wore looked like it had come off a porcelain doll—all velvet and lace, puffy sleeves and buttons down the bodice. He shouldn’t have found it arousing, but it was, and he cursed under his breath.

“What? You get a taste of dick once, and now you’re some little cum dumpster?”

“Your cum dumpster,” Faith purred.

Her hands travelled up his thighs again, enclosing his shaft in a double-handed grip. She tugged him back and ran her tongue over his balls, sucking one into her mouth, then the other. Faust hummed like an engine as her grip tightened.

“You ever suck a cock this big before?” He asked.

Faith shook her head, using the motion to stimulate him a little more.

“Of course not. You’re too much of a good girl,” Faust said, tangling her bouncy ponytail around his hand. “But somehow you know exactly what to do, huh? How is that? Have you been practicing a lot on your dildo at home?”

“I’ve seen how it’s done,” she claimed.

“Is that so? Have you been watching porn? Trying to figure out how all this works?”

Faith descended on him, his girth forcing her lips into an exaggerated O-shape. His head hit the back of the chair, and he moaned, thrusting his hips up once to choke off her airway, but only for a split second. She giggled, and the vibrations tickled his groin. Faust used her ponytail as a reign to draw her back, the head of his cock popping out of her mouth with an animated noise.

“You made me fuck up my best take,” he growled as he stood up, taking her with him.

Faust guided her to the bed, where she sat on the edge and looked up with shiny, innocent eyes. She opened her mouth again, tempting Faust with her tongue lolling out. He bounced the head off her tongue, then gagged her with half his length in one swift motion. A wave of saliva oozed from her glands, and he came away with several strings of it dripping from his cock. He gave her throat another quick prod, shivering from the spit connecting them.

“How was church, baby? Did you tell God about the filthy fucking things you did to my cock the other day after you lied to your daddy? Tell him how I stretched that fucking pussy and dumped a huge load all over you?”

Faith shook her head. “Why would I tell him when I’m not ashamed of it?”

“Well, you should be. It’s a sin to be so cock-hungry. You shouldn’t be thinking about swallowing my cum.”

“But I can’t help it.”

Faust stroked her cheek, then tapped her lips, glossing them with his pre-cum. “I know. It’s because you’re a bad, bad, filthy little girl. You’re corrupted. And God doesn’t want nasty things like you.”

Before Faith answered, Faust cradled the back of her head and pushed forward, sheathing his entire length until he hit the back of her throat. She came up with a sharp gasp, eyes watering. He bit his lip, a jolt of guilt stopping and restarting his heart. Faust climbed onto the bed and pressed his back against the headboard, spreading his legs so she could crawl between them.

“Lie on your stomach. That’s it. Suck my balls again.”

Eager to please him, Faith did as she was told and hefted one of his testicles with her tongue. She rolled it between her lips before taking it in her mouth. Faust stroked his length and spread his legs wider to watch her treating his scrotum like she would a lollipop. He bent his knees and inched his pelvis lower. Soon, her excess saliva dripped down, and he shivered when she let the tip of her tongue drag up the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, you look so cute in your little dress, with your ribbons and shit. Were your panties soaked all morning while you sat listening to your minister telling you how much God loves you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Faith moaned.

“Did you sit next to your daddy and pray for the chance to take this big fucking dick down your throat?”

Again, Faith agreed. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, pumping him in time with each bob of her head. After a few minutes, her jaw began to ache, and Faust noticed. It reminded him of how she hurt the morning after they had sex for the first time. As satisfying as it was to know he’d left his mark in the form of nagging pain, her whimpers struck his chest in a sickening way that made him wince. Suddenly, the tears in her eyes from choking weren’t as erotic. He snapped his hips back and took her up in his arms, kissing her swollen lips until she tried pawing at his groin again.

“Please, I want to,” she whispered.

“I’m hurting you again.”

“No, I like it.”

“I don’t like making you hurt.”

“Faust, please,” Faith whined. “I can take it. It might hurt a little, but it feels so good. Please, I want to make you feel good too.”

“Turn around then.”

Faith reversed her position, lying down so her chest pressed against his stomach while she took him in her mouth again. Faust lifted her dress, sighing at the sight of her panties before wedging them to the side. Her pussy looked smooth, appetizing, and so wet he longed to suck the dew from her lips. He did, and the moment his tongue made contact with her opening, she groaned around his length. He gave her mouth one shallow thrust before spreading her wide to stare at her opening.

“Fuck, your pussy tastes so sweet when you’re all wet for me. Just soaking through your panties for me.”

Faith learned to breathe through her nose as she sucked his cock. His remarkable length hitting the back of her throat caused wave after wave of spit to fill her mouth. She swallowed it all down, moaning when his tongue sluiced back and forth over her pussy lips, locating her clit after a moment of teasing.

“Oh, yeah. Suck that cock while I eat your perfect little pussy.”

She squealed when he spanked her, the sensation encouraging her to go faster. Faust placed her thighs over his shoulders and got off the bed with her hanging in the air. Though suspended several feet off the ground, Faith continued working his shaft while he tilted his pelvis, effectively fucking her mouth while he sucked her clit.

If Faith were a regular band-slut, Faust would have dropped her back onto the bed and thoroughly fucked her throat until her cheeks turned purple. But she wasn’t. Faith was all his and had never given thought to jump from one guy to the next the way his previous flings had. It’s what made him treat her with care. He couldn’t get off to the sounds of her gagging and spluttering all over his dick. He wanted her to feel as good as she made him feel, no matter how badly he wanted to pound into her mouth.

Though she was much smaller than him, suspending her weight grew tiresome, and he lay back down on the bed so she could finish him off in comfort. He cradled her jaw, forcing her to look up at him while his shaft glided back and forth over her tongue. Then, she slid onto the floor, kneeling before him in a more traditional position. He fought off the urge to pull her face closer and let her follow her instincts.

After a while, Faith popped off his dick, stretching her sore jaw muscles. Faust still hadn’t come, and she wondered how much longer he needed. Was she not doing it right? Did her skill pale in comparison to others he’d experienced? She stared up at him, eyes wide with wonder.

“I’m almost there, baby. Keep going. I know it hurts, but... Fuck, I’m close, I promise.”

The real issue was time. Faust expected is bandmates to show up at any moment. Sundays were designated for practice, and this week, they were recording demos before heading into the studio. He looked at the clock, and it read five past one. If they hadn’t shown up already, they were late. Faust shook his head free of worry and focused on the beautiful girl between his thighs, lavishing his dick with her tongue and lips. He closed his eyes, dropped his head back, and concentrated on the sensation. But before he made it to the edge of orgasm, his bedroom door flew open.

“Fuck!” Faust exclaimed, pulling out of Faith’s mouth before she realized what happened. When she looked up and saw the shock on his face, she turned around and gasped.

Ola, Mordy, and the new singer all stood in the doorway with varying degrees of amusement on their faces. Mordy tried pulling the door shut, but Ola’s boot was in the way. The guys tripped over each other, embarrassment and intrigue causing them each to stumble and offer apologies.

“Shit, Faust. Sorry!”

“Get the FUCK out! Doesn’t anyone know how to fucking knock?” Faust hollered.

Once the door shut, Faust looked down at Faith, who was glowing with humiliation.

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe that just happened,” she groaned.

“This is exactly why I wasn’t answering you. Today’s just not a good day.”

Faust rose from the bed, now flaccid, scooped up his boxers and got dressed while Faith fiddled with the hem of her dress.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had plans for the day. I just thought you were ignoring me because you’d had enough. I thought—”

“That’s fucking ridiculous, Faith. Don’t even bother finishing that sentence. You know that’s stupid. If I don’t answer my phone, it means I’m fucking busy. It doesn’t mean I’m out fucking other chicks. Don’t start to get all paranoid and clingy, okay? I hate that shit.”

Faith bit her tongue and nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“I already told you... Sundays I have band stuff to do. You have your stupid church shit, and I have my shit. We can’t be together every single day of every week.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I said I’m sorry.”

Faust found his wallet, opened it and took out a twenty-dollar bill. He handed it to her. Faith looked at him, confused.

“What’s this for?”

“Take a cab home. I can’t drive you.”

“But—”

“Look, babe, I’ll call you later. I have a lot to do today. We’re going into the studio, and I’m supposed to have my tracks down already, which I would have had finished had you not come in unannounced.”

Faith looked down at the note and then back up at him, feeling terribly obtuse and regretful. “I didn’t mean to interrupt something important. And you could have said something instead of letting me waste my time trying to make you feel good.”

Before Faust could get another word out, Faith left the room and shut the door with enough force to make him flinch. He knew he should go after her, but his pride anchored him in place. He would have to pick up the argument at a later time, though he knew the unfinished business would tail him to the studio and nag in the back of his mind all day.

Faust scoffed. “Goddamn it.”

He left his bedroom and found his band sitting in the living room looking like they’d seen a ghost walk by. Faust shook his head, not wanting to talk about what had just transpired.

“Uh, sorry, Faust. We thought you were still laying down drums. We had no idea you were—”

“Just shut the fuck up, all right? Let’s just get this over with.”

#faust x faith #faust stuff #valter skarsgard imagine #valter skarsgard fanfiction

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 1

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 2.9k

⇝ Summary: The goal has never been in your favor, and despite all your best efforts, you don’t think it ever will be. But that’s right when you finally get the chance to turn things around, to do things the way you’ve always wanted to and to go after what you truly love. However the problem isn’t if you can do it, it’s how much are you willing to do...?

⇝ Warnings: pg13; none for this chapter

⇝ *Disclaimer: If you’ve read gender bender manga before, you know exactly what this fic is going to be like. However if you haven’t, this story will involve themes of cross-dressing only for fictional and story purposes. This will include numerous instances of the reader having to hide that she’s a girl and this being kept secret. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with this idea.

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, March 24

One Step.

Two Step.

Turn around.

The building before you is coloured a burnt red, grimy bricks stacked together until they join to create a giant brown rooftop. Craning your neck further, there are rows and rows of glass stretching out in between the reddened bricks, crossing what you assume to be at least ten floors. A small ding from the inside snaps your attention away, eyes no longer taking in the towering landmark that looms over you.

The rumpled map is carefully folded within your hands, doors automatically shifting apart when you draw closer. Your bewildered eyes can only glance around aimlessly until they locate the elevator, rushing over and hurriedly pressing the button to go up. After what feels like an entire eternity, it finally dings again and you step inside, grip tightening on your bags.

When it comes to a full stop, you hesitantly lean forward. Your gaze traces over the many rooms that span across the lengthy hallway, each one containing a string of numbers stamped in fine print. It’s eerily silent as well, compelling you to wonder if that’s such a good thing until you begin sweeping by the various rooms, hearing distant sounds of shouting and yelling, even a certain crash that has your shoulders spiking and a shiver running down your spine.

There’s a sudden loud thudding noise coming from your right that mimics the quickening of your heartbeat, a cluster of students jogging by. All of them are glued to one another, swinging their arms around each other’s necks and loudly chattering away until they notice you, despite your best efforts to become one with the wall in the hallway.

Shoulders bump into you rapidly and your backpack slides off, getting harshly trampled on until it's kicked away to the side, a collection of snickers echoing before the group leaves. You kneel down, dusting off any remains of nasty footsteps with a sigh and shrugging it onto your back. Picking up your fallen suitcase, your eyes are both lost and confused so you opt-out for rummaging through your pocket, a crumpled piece of paper emerging in your hands.

“Room…613..…” You whisper, scanning the various number plates, “610, 612…” You look on the right side, “611..…613!”

Inhaling a deep breath, your fist rattles against the door.

When it seems like time has begun to slow down and the chattering of your breath erratically increases, the door is finally yanked open. Your eyes and mouth are both wide, jaw nearly dropping at the young man that stands before you.

Long curly black locks fall down his forehead, resting delicately against his sun-kissed skin and nearly covering his surprised eyes. He’s dressed in a loose black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a lollipop sticking out of his pursued lips.

He’s extremely handsome, you acknowledge right away and when he leans forward to get a closer glimpse at you, you also realize – and very tall.

Before you have a chance to say anything, he spirals around and shouts in a deep tone.

“Jungkook-ah! Did you end up adopting a scrawny little kid and not tell me?”

“What?! No!” You hear a voice shout back far within the room, a delicate tone in comparison to the guy at the door. There’s some shuffling before footsteps stomp over, the voice growing louder, “Tae that’s our new roommate, stop being weird and just let him in.”

“A NEW ROOMMATE?!” The man – ‘Tae’ – glances at you with huge eyes and opens the door to the room wider, “Oh my god, where are my manners! Please come forth to our lovely home and pardon the mess, the black-haired fairy in the corner over there has refused to clean up his shit since yesterday!”

You’re greeted to exactly what he says; an utter mess. There’s piles of takeout and clothes sprayed out all across the floor, mixed in with a handful of dishes, specks of dust and some random clutter as you stand in the middle of the room. You catch a peek at the individual facing Tae, appearing to be drastically younger in comparison and sporting shorter black hair, a set of silver hoops dangling from his ears. Yet despite his youthful appearance, you notice that he’s on par to Tae in terms of height when he stands right next to him.

“The mess isn’t just mine you know?! You can clean up once in a while too!”

“What was that?? I can’t hear you because I’m too busy untangling myself from your dirty laundry on the ground half the time!”

You watch them argue from a distance, not quite sure about what you should be doing as your hand remains planted on your suitcase. Biting down on your lip, you wonder if perhaps you should say something, eyes darting between them at a speedy pace.

A scream almost threatens to leave you when a hand taps you from behind, whirling around to be greeted to another person – one with ashy-grey hair and flushed cheeks.

“Please do ignore those two idiots and come in.”

He kindly smiles, immediately taking the suitcase from your grasps. You’re at a loss of words when he gestures for you to follow him, gaze still darting back to see Tae and Jungkook completely at each other’s necks. However when you hear your suitcase being strolled away, you hastily trail after him to catch up.

After rummaging through a couple of keys, he unlocks one of the doors and opens it wide.

“Here’s your room!” He declares and his arms stretch out, as if presenting to you a wonderful creation. When you step in with curious eyes, you notice immediately that it’s extremely small – just a narrow window and closet in the corner, only a third of what your room back home was like. It’s also something that Jimin regards right away.

“I know it’s not much, but I can assure you it’s cozy!”

And yet contrary to the room, you find yourself absolutely agreeing with him.

“I love it.” You whisper, eyes spread in awe when you pivot around your surroundings, utterly mesmerized until the man behind you chuckles. “Thank you– uh…”

“Jimin.” He reaches out a hand with a smile and you instantly take it as he tilts his head to the side, “Those two are Taehyung and Jungkook, they’ll be your roommates.”

“Oh, so you don’t live here?”

Jimin shakes his head, “I actually live next door, but Taehyung and Jungkook are my close friends so I come by often.”

You nod and he whirls around, eyes darting to outside of the room.

“Speaking of which….”

You trail behind him when he goes back to the living room, a new high-pitched voice soaring out.

“Hey! Don’t fight, don’t fight!” Your eyes catch sight of a man with brown hair standing in between Taehyung and Jungkook, his serious expression causing you to feebly cower behind Jimin. But that’s when his eyes dart over to you, and similar to a light switch, he immediately brightens up.

“Hi! You must be their new roommate!” Rushing over, he snatches you up into a hug right away and you turn into ice in his arms, “I’m Hoseok!”

“N-Nice to meet you.” You take a step back, clearing your throat as you naturally deepen your voice, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Taehyung frowns, “That’s a strange name for a guy.”

“I-It’s not really, it’s usually used for both genders so it’s not out of the ordinary for a guy to have it.” You suck in a breath when you've forgotten to breathe, all eyes in the room simultaneously glued to you.

Taehyung hums, “I guess you’re right.” He reaches out to grab Jungkook, who simply scoffs at him before his eyes roll over to you in curiosity, “As you might have heard already, I’m Taehyung and this grumpy twerp over here is Jungkook.”

“I would be less grumpy if you actually cleaned up for once in your life.”

“You really want to start this up again Kook?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at him, practically fuming as you dart your eyes all over the place. Hoseok flicks Taehyung against the forehead, causing him to whine as he tugs Jungkook over to his side.

“Will you two behave?! We have a new member in the room!” Hoseok scowls, donning a similar expression to before and they both immediately zip it.

Jimin giggles, “Seems like you’ll have quite some trouble on your hands Y/N. If these two aren’t getting their act together or bother you at all, don’t hesitate to call us.”

“Exactly!” Hoseok points over to Jimin with a grin, “We’re just next door so reach out whenever the case!”

“Thank you.” You whisper, softly smiling until an idea suddenly sparks in your mind. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking– do any of you know about the competitive basketball team here?”

“You like basketball?” Jungkook inquires, doe eyes growing wide. When you meekly nod, there’s an explosion of awe surfacing in the room.

“That’s great Y/N!” Hoseok exclaims, eagerly gazing at you, “Are you thinking of joining?”

When you nod, Taehyung jumps in, “We have our first meet tomorrow morning! You should come with us!”

“Us?” You question, hopeful eyes scanning their faces. Taehyung smiles, a proud expression on his features.

“You can say you’re looking at last year’s elite team, Bangtan Sonyeondan!”

“Still hate that name.” Jimin mumbles.

Jungkook crosses his arms and scoffs, “I think it’s cool.”

“You and Namjoon are the only ones that actually like it,” Jimin rolls his eyes, before bringing his attention back to you, “but you should definitely come tomorrow Y/N.”

“Yeah! It’ll be so much fun!” Hoseok adds, causing you to smile.

“Of course.” You glance over at your room, an apologetic look appearing on your face, “I hate to break this up but I should really start unpacking…”

“Hey no worries, we should all get some shut-eye for tomorrow.” Taehyung gestures over to Hoseok and Jimin, snapping his fingers, “And you two, out.”

Jimin pouts, “You can ask nicely…”

“Last time he did, you guys protested and fell asleep on our couch.” Jungkook’s eyes narrow onto Jimin’s, “and drooled all over my carpet.”

“To be fair, Hoseok pushed me off when I tried to cuddle and– okay, okay we’re going!” Jimin holds his hands up in defence when Jungkook glares at him, grabbing onto his roommate and dragging him as he waves to you with a heart-shaped smile on his face. “Bye Y/N! It was nice meeting you!”

You giggle at Hoseok and Jimin offers you a kind smile, carefully closing the door behind him as Taehyung turns back to Jungkook.

“Now, does cleaning mean I have to do the dishes tonight?”

Jungkook grabs a dirty sock from the ground and throws it at him.

***

After spending countless of hours unpacking your belongings, you eventually decide to call it a night. You take a quick glance at the apartment, noticing the front door you had walked in had led into the living room – which aside from the couch and small TV, was still sprinkled around with Jungkook’s clutter. He had managed to get rid of the laundry Taehyung had mentioned along with some takeout boxes, though you’re not quite sure how Taehyung had seemed to convince him to do that. Taking a fast peek in the tiny kitchen, you notice there are no more dishes leftover either, so in a way you wonder if a compromise had somehow gotten established between the two.

When your head falls down onto the soft pillow you brought, you adjust yourself on the mattress you had plopped down on the ground, still exhausted from all the unpacking to set the bed up properly. Looking at the top of your headboard to the bottom where your blanket is, you recall that your room is right in between Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s, being the smallest one out of all them.

Thankfully, both of them have fallen asleep, the room being silent enough for your lids to flutter close.

***

A loud pounding sound jolts you awake, a bird’s nest resting on top of your head and half-lidded eyes darting around. You eventually realize the sound is coming from your door – another series of knocks greeting you once again.

“RISE AND SHINE Y/N! We have our first meet at 6 am sharp!” Your puffed-up eyes glance over at the clock you hanged up last night, the time reading 5:30 in the morning. With a sharp inhale, you scramble out of the bed and attempt to locate your comb and toothbrush.

“I’m awake Taehyung!” You hurriedly shout back, detangling your long hair at a quickened pace. Glancing around, you grab onto the short mop of hair sitting on the ground next to your bed, brushing it thoroughly before planting it onto your head.

“You better hurry! It looks like Jungkook’s cooking up some breakfast and I’m going to need help convincing him to share!” Taehyung retorts like he’s telling you a secret, a giggle being drawn out of you as you slide on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Not to worry, back-up is on its way!” You grab your shoes and sink your feet into them, a foaming toothbrush sticking out of your mouth.

When you finally come out, your greeted to the smell of freshly sizzled eggs and sweetening pancakes, eyes widening in surprise when Taehyung grins at your expression. After a full ten minutes of convincing Jungkook to share with the two of you – one that Taehyung had told you involved showering him with praises until he gave in – you’re happily chomping down as you race against the clock to head over to the court. Taehyung and Jungkook guide you through the buildings along the way, your eyes eagerly taking in every aspect of the school that you had just enrolled in.

“Oh, that’s the canteen!” Taehyung quickly says, “We usually eat there together after class.”

He starts pointing in several different directions, your eyes barely being able to keep up. “Classes happen there, those are the libraries, there’s also this really cool place called The Zone that let’s you get free food on Fridays.”

You nod, quite impressed with how well the school was built. Based on your own research, you had heard it was more catered towards students interested in the sports rather than academics, but there was a fair share of other things going on aside from the two.

“Guys.” Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he points to the gym, your breath almost being stolen at the sheer size of the building before you. Taehyung takes a glance at his watch, sucking in a sharp inhale when you’ve only gotten a couple of minutes left. He grabs hold of you and Jungkook instantly, dragging you along with him at a speed that has the air knocking out of your lungs.

“We’ll show you the rest later Y/N! I don’t want to get killed for being late again!”

He speeds down the hallways, a blur of yellow locker rooms whizzing past your vision alongside the vast expanse of water behind glass doors. However, the small handful of details you take in isn’t what has your expression contorting in absolute marvel.

It’s the massive gymnasium that Taehyung brings you into.

It would be a shame to put it into mere words, the large interior that rises high above to the ceiling, wide enough to fit at least 10 teams. The ground is decorated with various streaks of colours, hues of bright orange and fresh white. From the corner of your eye, you can see the long rows of bleachers – already the sounds of thrilled fans echoing through the gym.

The astonishment steaming from your eyes is stolen away when Taehyung plants you in a line-up, right next to Jungkook and a familiar individual with ashy-grey roots.

Jimin beams at the new sight of you, and from a distance, you can see Hoseok standing right to him – but instead of having a giant smile on his lips and eyes full of excitement, his shoulders are stiff and his gaze is hardened.

Confusion waves over you for a second until you feel a sharp jab to your waist that has you straightening up, not missing the subtle glare Jungkook holds.

Taking a deep breath, you’ve failed to miss how the large gym is quiet – including the boys that are currently lined up. It almost makes you feel like you’re in the military, a heavy silence in the air as everyone’s form remains ominously tense.

Before a million of questions are ready to spill by your lips, the sound of footsteps stops you. Just like the rest, you swivel your head to the right towards it and if you thought the gym itself had already taken you aback, you were definitely not prepared for this moment in time.

Similar to a hit of deja-vu, it’s vastly familiar. The dark maroon hair, the narrowed yet intrigued eyes, the basketball clutched tightly in his hands as if he was holding a prized possession. Every single thing about him has you nearly dropping dead onto the ground, but its something you whole-heartedly try to refrain from, especially when he walks past you with a slight frown.

He moves to stand in front of the boys, a programmed commanding stance embedded into him and trained eyes already resurfacing.

Because in front of you stands the Min Yoongi.

The infamous captain of Bangtan Sonyeondan.

#btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #bts yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi basketball au #yoongi basketball au #yoongi sports au #bts suga fanfic #bts suga fluff #bts suga basketball au #bts suga sports au #min yoongi fluff #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts basketball au

186 notes · View notes

kanene-yaaay · 4 years

Text

Wait, no! [Or ‘Feathers’ - 1º Day]

Kanene’s note: Me??? Still translating Tickletober fafics??? OH YEEEEEAH!!!

Okay, okay, but, look: In my defense, the first version was just not good enough for me to translate it,, but then I went out internet and FOR SOME REASON THE INSPIRATION JUST BROKE INTO MY HOUSE, MADE ME LOOK IN A VERY OLD WORD DOC. IN MY COMPUTER

And when I realized, I was already in the fourth page-

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Lee!Patton , LereRoman, Lee!Virgil, Lee!Logan and... Ler!Feathers, I guess? xDDD

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are fabulous arts in this site!! ‘u’).

* Something around 1500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* E a versão em brasileiro será reescrita assim que eu puder! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video, listen some songs that can make you travel across the universe and drink water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

- Okay. Okay. Patton, it’s your turn!! – Roman spin in a grand flourish, showing to the excited, almost as much as he is, parental side. Logan let go an exasperate “Thanks Sherlock” and quickly move away, opening space for the other wearing cardigan gets closer in bouncy steps.

- Now let me see… - The embodiment of creativity began to encircling Patton, being cautious to not step into the circle carefully traced in the middle of the shiny floor of his room. The one with black rims glasses controlled himself the best he could with the warm, euphoric feeling running across his veins to not follow Roman and stay still in his actual position, knowing how much the other got excited about his new idea, which in the next video, each of them would emerge surrounded by a small tornado of something that represented the personality of said side. – It has to be suave, light but at the same time explode in a rainbow of colors for show all the facets of yourself and also to demonstrate your fun side, of course.

- Are you sure that we can’t have puppies to represent your happy pappy Pawtton, kiddo?

Logan groan in distance, Patton’s smile just increase, don’t lasting much before becoming a small pout when Roman just shook his head, concentrated eyes flying everywhere, wandering among options and possibilities that none of them could see.

- I would love it, my dear Padre. – A bit of a grin shined his features, maybe due the pun from the parental side or the incapacity of the same to hide his enthusiasm and literally, yet slightly, beaming in his tip toes. However, his expression quickly changed to a thoughtful one. – But it for best all of us keep alive beings far away from thi- OH YES, EUREKA! – Jump, victory pose, bold smile. – The perfect idea!!! Patton, sink out!!

The cat lover did what said. Creativity’s representation rubbed his hands and made some arms stretches, fingers wiggling and each piece of himself radiating pride for his brainstorming, especially in the cocky grin directed to the aspect behind the holophote, who stared back with the best angry frown, his song blastering through the room even with his headphones on.

- VIRGIL, YOUR TIME HAS ARRIVED!! LIGHT, CAMERA AND ACTION!

- I don’t have any idea of how the heck you guys manage to drag me into these things. – The grumpy, acid reply was followed by the bright of the object being turned on and direct towards the painted circle. Roman, finally summoned, not before his usual series of flourishes and magic gestures, a weak tornado of stunning, although velvety, colors, which swirled fastly enough to transform its entirety in a dance of senses, however slow enough to be able for who watched to differentiate between each one of the feathers with a little bit of concentration.

- PATTON, COME UP!

The problem in conjurations: You can’t always have the best control over the things created due this. Get this fact together with an embodiment of the moral and feelings excited in a way to not remember the exactly place where he should reappear and very much probably your result will be a high pitched squeal of a poor unfortunate Patton as he felt a bunch of feathers get into his shirt and immediately fell in the ground, too much occupied with his squirming only increasing the feeling of the fluff objects spinning across his stomach and sides in light strokes causing unbearable tingles in every place it touched (and tickled) to really notice that, in consequence of his move a large part of the others feathers speeded thought the place without any control and having a really fond spot to explore any infinitesimal possibility to run into any researchable shirt and the ticklish bodies that it covered.

- No! NononononononO!!

They were really suave sensations, but at the same time so impossible to ignore that in only a few seconds after the ‘explosion’, the others three sides followed Patton’s lead and rolled, squirmed, kicked on the floor, seeking to expel the tickly feathers that danced, floated and swirled in every sensitive spot that they managed to find.

- NahahahaHAHAHAHAHahahahaha!! – Virgil shrugged, struggling to protect his neck from some of the ones that insistently dragged themselves from the shell of his ear, slowly wiggling to the base of his neck, focusing some mean strokes there before making all the way up one more time, and then one more and one more and one more, just caring to change to the other side or deviating their attention to concentrate in the spot right under his chin, getting few mixes between squeaky muffled snort and the low giggles flying from the huge smile, so rare, which took over his lips. – ROHOHOHOHOHOHOHOMahahahahaahahah!! – His hands went up in the attempt to do something before immediately going down when he felt two feathers get into his sleeves, quickly went dangerously close to his armpits. – Ihihihihihi gohohohohohohna to KILL – Squeak, squeak, squeak. – YOHOHOHOHOHOU! NAHAHAHA!

- Nohohohohohohoho! Ple-hehehehe-pleHEHEHEASE! – Patton knew, deep in himself he really knew, that it was useless to beg to inanimate beings mercy. Albeit, in the exactly instant three of the fluffiest, tickliest feathers he even felt in his whole life found his unfairly, extremely sensitive bellybutton, the tip of them digging and carefully spreading the tickles equally in its walls, sometimes even slipping to the unprotected skin outside the tickle spot, spinning and spinning nonstop. - NOT THEREHEHEHEHEHE! NahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! - He didn’t care if they could hear or even understand him, specially when his trashing pushed his shirt up and in the same second four others feathers, two using their quill and two their fluff part, traced the entirety of his waistline, exploding a shriek between his loud, belly (pun inserted) laughter.

- ROHOHOHOHomahahahaan!! – Some few feathers manage to brutally attack his armpits in gentle strokes, leading Logan to maintain a strong grip of his hands in his hair strays, even if that meaned let enough space to the diabolic tickly tools dance in spirals into the sensitive skin, liberating electric shivers that got more unbearable every time they got in the middle of his pits and made all the reverse way back only to repeat the pattern a couple more of times again, just because he knew it would be worse if he let his instincts take over and low his arms. The single thought of the attackers stuck in his armpits being enough to make a blush burn in his features and his ticklishness increase as his arms trembled as his will power. - Mahahahahahahake it STOHOHOHOHOHOP!! – However, when he felt the quills starting to poke and draw whatever thing a feather would knew draw in every inches of not only his pits, but also his upper ribs and biceps, leading his laughter to rose some octaves and his eyes close tightly, as if this would help to ignore the feeling, the usually serious and rational side really thought in just give up and fall into the same beg technique as Patton.

- It isn’t uhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhunder my cONTROHOHOhohohOL – The prince kicked as a large amount of feathers got into his pants and now focused in happily, quickly scribble and flutter around his calves, his fight only leading them to spread and therefore research a bigger area, as well as it gave new spots to satiate they curiosity, for example the skin extremely susceptible to soft touches behind his knees which made a loud, uncontrollable laughter escape from his mouth. – At least NOT ANYMOHOHOHOHOHORE!! – And then squeals took over his vocal chords, especially when, for instinct, Roman hugged his legs and trapped some feathers which now angrily wiggled behind his knees and seemed to make all the others tickle-attack with full force and speed, resulting to their creator to unfold himself and trash before the sensation become unbearable again and he hugged his legs, all the cycle repeating, again.

Nothing more than laughter answered the aspect of romance, and, if he was being honest, maybe yes: Roman could stop all the tickly, evil feathers if he managed to get enough will and concentration. However, as his laughter reverberated amongst the others’ and that warm feeling filled their (faces and) hearts in a melody that lighted his soul, he wondered when this will power would ever appear.

#Lee!Virgil #Lee!Patton #Lee!Logan #Lee!Roman #Ler.. feathers???#I mean tecnically it was Roman's fault so fghjukilkjhgf #Tickle fanfiction #Sanders Sides Tickling #Ticklish!Virgil #Ticklish!Patton #Ticklish!Logan #Ticklish!Roman #Tickling #Oneshot #KaneneFic #KaneneArt #Patton nO-#Tw: Tornado Mention

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vesuviannights · 5 years

Note

fem!reader X Muriel 9, 39

i got u anon.

PSA Muriel and MC fuck exclusively to Hozier no exceptions and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Muriel/You. Female/afab reader. Lemon.

Muriel kisses every inch of your skin with soft, barely there movements. You - frustrated, impatient, unable to shy away from what he awakens inside of you - need more, and he does not disappoint.

Prompts: “Stop teasing, I can’t take it anymore” and “I want you to come all over me, to make me into your dirty little whore” from this post.

Wide, calloused hands explore the planes of your body, the little ridges of their scars scraping oh-so-gently over the curves of your breasts, down your trembling stomach. Their owner leaves soft kisses wherever they follow, as though worried that a touch each scar from his life of suffering might somehow turn that suffering onto you.

At first, it is wonderful, tender. His lips linger, slightly chapped from the winter winds, over every square inch of you as though no piece were an more or less important than the rest. It makes your heart ache to kiss him in return and spill all your feelings to him for the thousandth time, even though he still blushes a little when he hears you say them.

Now, though…now it is torture, in its rawest and most treacherous form. Having his lips on every inch of your skin, watching and feeling them curve as you sigh or shift impatiently, having him hold you so softly between the vast expanse of each hand, shadowing you with his body as he moves over it…absolute torture, of the Devil’s most intricate design.

You do not dare to move because if you do, he will surely stop. But you very much want to move, because every inch of you is positively aching. Stiff nipples, trembling thighs slick with your arousal. You’ve been playing with yourself while he’s been kissing and exploring you in an attempt to quell some of your impatience, and if you have to keep waiting for something more than butterfly-soft touches, you might just go mad.

“Muriel.”

You call his name, soft and barely there, but he keeps kissing you.

You say it again, a little more impatiently; he has your ankle, and kisses the bone there as his thumb traces the arch of your foot.

Watching this movement you think you can see a flash of amusement in his eyes, which causes you to sit up and say his name again for a third time, and this time he definitely is smiling—the sight is always so beautiful to you that you almost forget how to breathe—and there is even a laugh, deep and throaty, a little husky.

“Stop teasing me,” you huff, barely holding back an eye roll. “I can’t take it anymore. I won’t.”

His teeth graze your skin, eyes glinting with amusement. “Not very patient, are you?”

“Not when I’ve been playing with myself for thirty minutes.”

“Well whose fault is that?”

“Mine,” you grumble.

He kisses your ankle one last time before moving up your body, the expanse of his shoulders shadowing you from the flickering light of the fireplace. His palm smooths over your thigh, knocking away the hand you’ve already taken back there in your impatience. Two fingers gently move through your folds and probe your hole, testing you before they slip in to replace your own. They crook carefully inside of you, the movement slow enough to draw a whimper from the depths of your throat as they beckon you forward while his thumb drags itself almost lazily over your clit.

“Is that good?” He asks. You nod, thighs shaking as his fingers—so much longer than yours, so much thicker—twist and hit your g-spot, stars exploding in your vision as you babble your approval and appreciation.

He kisses you, tongue sweeping into your mouth, before you reach down and push his hand away. You feel a little too dazed to be refusing his advances, a little too heady and close to the edge, and it must show on every flushed part of your skin and each uneven rise and fall of your chest.

And he must see all of that too, confusion shadowing his features even as he lets you push him back and off you to sit back on his feet. Your gaze drags down his body, slow and with purpose, until it finds the taut stretch of his trousers, where his cock is straining to be given attention. All this time he has been kissing your skin, murmuring your praises, listening to you sigh impatiently as you touched yourself, and no attention has been paid to what might be—at least in this moment—your favourite part of him.

You lick your lips as you eye his cock over, and you have to catch your lip between your teeth to hold back a groan as it twitches under your gaze, nearly delirious with hunger. You barely manage to pull yourself far enough out of your haze to speak.

“You know how the other day…” You start. You place a hand on each of his knees and begin to smooth them up his thighs, leaning in closer as you go higher. “You said that you wanted to try more dirty talk? Use all of those delicious words I’ve been teaching you?”

He nods, only the slightest tinge of pink coming to the tops of his ears. Your hands are at the tops of his thighs now, fingertips brushing against the bulge of his cock; you feel him twitch beneath your hand, the warmth of him radiating through the material. He groans, hand shooting out to grab your wrist, keeping your hand exactly where it is as he gently grinds his hips up into it.

“I want to suck your cock,” you tell him, slow and with deliberate care with the final word. He nods his consent to your request, but it’s clear by the jerking movements of it that he’s barely even listening to you, too caught up in the feel of your hand as he grinds up into it like a horny adolescent.

Your other hand, while you’ve been speaking and while he’s been grinding, has popped open each of his buttons one by one. You pause to pull him free, the length of him sitting hard, heavy, and a little too thick in your palm.

“Can I suck your cock? Please?” You ask him. He nods again, groaning as your thumb grazes over the tip of him.

“Suck it,” he gasps out, trying out some of the words and ways you had been teaching him. “I want you to—” He swallows his words, groans as your other hand moves to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. “Choke on it. I want you to suck it, swallow it…take it down so far you can’t breathe.”

Well.

You move forward eagerly, settling your hips a little further back to let you lean forward and take the tip of him in your mouth. You moan softly around it, tongue swirling and tasting the salty pre-cum waiting for you there. You suck gently, lips following the curve of it like a lollipop as you pop it out of your mouth and then turn your head, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock from base to tip. His entire body shudders above you at this, his hands delving into your hair but taking care not to grip too tight or take your control off you.

“Suck it,” he tells you through gritted teeth. “Take it all, I want to feel the back of your throat.”

Well fuck.

You take the head into your mouth once more, hollowing out your cheeks as you bob on his cock, wetting him, savouring the taste of him, trying to take as much of him as you can. You feel a little pressure on the back of your head from his hand, the tremble of his thigh beneath your palm that tells you he is holding back. He loves the feel of being entirely inside of you, in any part of your body that you’ll let him be, but most of all he loves the warm heat of your mouth, the feel of your throat tightening and constricting around him—you even suspect that he loves the sight of your eyes watering as you look up at him, in the few moments before you run out of breath and have to pull back off him with a gasp.

Your eyes dart up as that moment approaches, the head of him knocking the back of your throat, causing you to gag a little. He pulls his hips back, apologising with his gaze, but you shake your head and start your actions again, eyes watering, hand following the planes of your stomach downward in search of your needy, aching clit. You moan around him as you find it, tracing small circles as you slip two fingers inside of yourself once more, crooking them and stroking your inner walls.

“Are you touching yourself?” You nod, and he groans in appreciation, his hips making small thrusts into your mouth, his cock twitching when your teeth accidentally scrape him.

“I’m gonna come—” He growls, and before he can, you pull your mouth off him, gasping as you speak.

“I want you to come all over me,” you tell him, beg him. “Come on my face, come on my chest, come on my greedy little cunt. Come on every part of me to make me your dirty little whore, so everyone can see—”

He takes himself in his hand and begins to stroke, the movements uneven, jerking as he holds back his release even now. He nods, moans your name softly under his breath as you shift back, still touching yourself, and tilt your face up toward him with your tongue out and waiting.

His tell is always the same—his hand latches onto something nearby, his jaw ticks then goes slack, his left leg shakes. He comes with a growl, his seed spurting all over your waiting tongue, your face, your chest as you gasp. He continues to stroke his cock, aiming it down to where your fingers are still furiously pumping inside of your cunt, your thumb flicking over your clit, thighs shaking. His come covers you there, too, long white trails and spurts that mark every inch of skin you asked to be marked. You cry out as your own release crashes over you, your cunt pulsing and clenching around your fingers, his name on your lips as you babble and groan and thank him.

Your thighs are aching as you come down, but the rest of you is aching in such a delicious way that it hardly seems relevant. His come is streaked all over you—over your thighs, your cunt, your nipples, your chin—and you’ve never felt more beautiful, more wonderful, more his.

Your eyes move to find his gaze, which has already travelled the same path yours has, eyeing every part of you without an inch of bashfulness. His eyes were a few shades darker, his muscles rolling beneath his shoulders. You part your lips to speak, but before you can, he snatches you up, pulling your body against the hard length of his.

One hand cups the back of your head, the other wipes his seed off your chin with his thumb before claiming your lips in a furious kiss. You are greedy for more, allow every moan and growl and touch that comes with the kiss, and only pull away when your head is swimming and you need to breathe.

Muriel pushes your hair off your face, kisses your forehead, and you see some of the bashfulness return to his gaze as the haze of his orgasm—the sight if you covered in his seed—begins to fade.

“We should get you cleaned up,” he tells you.

“I don’t mind,” you tell him. You aren’t surprised to feel his cock twitch between you at your response. He sighs, scoops you up in his arms, walks you toward the bathroom.

“We’re cleaning you up,” he tells you as he walks you over the threshold. “And then maybe we can go again.”

Well, you think, as he sets you down on the edge of the tub and begins to run you both a bath—that doesn’t sound like a half bad compromise.

#the arcana #smutty drabble game #muriel #muriel/you #female reader #afab reader #lemon

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icyharrington · 5 years

Text

Sweeter Than Candy (Michael Langdon X Reader)

i could not get the image of slutty, subby hawthorne!michael eating a lollipop out of my head, so i turned it into a short lil PWP fic. hope y’all likeee ;)

plot: it’s impossible for you to resist michael langdon. especially when he’s just so goddamn sweet.

warnings: bratty!sub!Michael, soft!dom!reader, femdom, pegging, dirty talk

word count: 2k

If there was one thing in this world you were unable to resist, it was the temptation of your boyfriend, Michael Langdon. God, there was just something about him, something about those plump pink lips and the way they wrapped so beautifully around his velvet-smooth words. You’d give him anything he wanted- all he had to do was ask, bat those hooded baby blue eyes of his, ever-glistening with a mischievous light, and you’d give in.

Somehow, though, you didn’t mind.

Tonight was no different. He’d been practically begging all day for this, buttering you up with soft kisses to your neck between classes, toying with your hands in that way he knew made your heart flutter. Michael, I have to go to sleep early tonight, you’d told him half-heartedly, wanting so badly just to give in like you always did.

But I’ve been such a good boy, he’d countered lowly into your ear, sending your muscles rippling, goosebumps taking over your body. Fuck, he always knew exactly what would get you.

Now, as you lay reclined across Michael’s pristinely-made bed, preparing to give him exactly what he’d been begging for, you shook your head at how goddamn spoiled he really was. The little brat could never take no for an answer, always used to being handed whatever he wanted by his teachers and classmates. And you, you knew, were just as complicit in the matter.

The door to Michael’s bathroom opened and out he came, swaying his hips as he sauntered over to the end of the bed. He radiated confidence, and understandably so - he looked fucking ethereal right now, a goddamn androgynous angel, white dress shirt unbuttoned to expose his smooth, slightly curved tummy. The shirt was wrinkled, hanging loosely around thick thighs, an unraveled expanse of black ribbon swung haphazardly over one shoulder.

A pair of form-fitting gray boxer briefs left little to the imagination, clinging to his mouthwatering bulge, already semi-erect and leaking, leaving small dark spots in the fabric. He noticed you looking, a smirk crossing his face, and it was then that you noticed the spit-slick lollipop in his hand, because of course he was eating a goddamned lollipop, now of all times.

He dragged the candy against his stained lower lip, swirling his tongue over it as he hollowed out his cheeks, the fucking tease. You could see that the candy had turned his tongue a deepened red shade, and your mouth watered, imagining the cherry flavor you’d taste when he kissed you.

He pulled the lollipop back from his lips with a noisy pop, making a dip in the bed as he knelt by your feet. He jutted one hip out, eyes flickering as they traveled down your upper body and over to your pelvis, where a thick black strap-on was fastened with leather straps.

He smiled.

“C’mere,” you said softly, running your fingers along the plastic length as you beckoned him forward with your other hand. He lowered his body, crawling towards you with a greedy hunger in his drooping eyes, almost looking animalistic with each melodic roll of his narrow hips.

Wedging himself between your bare thighs, he took the shaft in one veined hand and nuzzled his cheek against it, never one breaking eye contact as he craned his neck to administer a slow lick up the side. You rolled your lower lip between your teeth at the sight, reaching down to run your fingers through his soft golden waves, falling wildly around his angular face.

“What do you say?” you asked him, cupping his jaw and caressing the flawless skin with your thumb.

“Thank you,” he said, drawing out the syllables to the point where he almost sounded drunk, and in a sense you knew he was, intoxicated by the pure, unbridled lust that vibrated in his bloodstream. He wrapped his pretty lips around the head of the plastic cock, eyes wide and unmoving as he dipped his head down further, moaning wantonly around the toy as you gently guided his head up and down.

“Good boy,” you praised. “Show me how bad you want it.”

You already knew without him having to show you, of course. It was fairly obvious that he craved the feeling of your fake cock filling him up, pounding him until he couldn’t remember his name. He’d made those desires abundantly clear, whispering how badly he wanted to be fucked as soon as you saw him that morning. And, even though you’d denied him at first, not wanting to be bothered with the exhausting ordeal of fucking him, you’d both known that eventually you’d give in to his desperate pleas, just like you always did.

Spoiled little shit, you thought affectionately, watching as Michael pulled the cock out of his mouth with a soft gasp, a silvery string of saliva trickling down his chin.

He wiped it away with the back of his hand, popping the lollipop back into his mouth and sucking noisily.

“You ready to ride my cock? Hmm?” you said, and he nodded, soft curls falling into his face with the motion of his head. He brought himself back to his knees, towering over you unintentionally; you reached over to his neatly kept bedside table, retrieving the bottle of lube from the top drawer. Squirting a generous amount into your palm, you smeared it across the plastic and swirled the substance into Michael’s saliva, hissing under your breath like you were really experiencing the sensation of wet skin against skin. Michael took another lick of his candy, making sure to keep his eyes locked with yours as he spread the gathered sweetness across his upper lip with the tip of his tongue, working down his tight boxers with his opposite hand.

You couldn’t help yourself, reaching out to impatiently pull his underwear down to his knees, tracing a finger down the soft trail of blond hair beneath his navel. His cock immediately sprung upwards, hitting his stomach the second it slipped from its confines - every time you saw it was like the first time, your heart hammering at its mouthwatering length, and again you couldn’t help but touch him, massaging the milky bead of precum into the angled tip.

He whined at your touch, bringing himself further up on the bed and straddling you. Next he reached behind him, fully removing his underwear and discarding it onto the wooden floor, leaving him in only his dress shirt and tall black socks, stretching all the way up his toned calves to his knees. You thought this look suited him, the dirty, debauched school boy.

“Turn around,” you urged, wrapping your fingers around his shaft one final time before he complied with your demands. “Wanna watch that pretty ass get split on my cock.”

He got into position, facing away from you now, one hand emerging from between his parted thighs to grip your strap-on. You traced your fingernails along the curved expanse of his ass cheek, leaving shallow pink marks against the smooth, undisturbed skin before giving it a teasing slap. You could hear the almost erotic sound of Michael’s teeth and tongue working at his lollipop, peering at you over his shoulder with a coy look in his glittering eyes.

Taking a firm hold on either side of his body, digging your fingers into the padded, warm flesh of his hips, you pulled him downwards before moving your grip back to his ass to spread him open. Pushing the slippery head of the cock against his entrance, you eased it inside, reveling in the needy moan that spilled past his swollen lips in response.

“Go on,” you said, bucking your hips up with just enough force that a surprised squeal escaped the boy’s throat. In one smooth motion, he glided all the way down until his ass was flush against your pelvis, cheeks clenching hungrily around the plastic cock. “Work for it, baby.��

You took a fistful of his ass in both hands, kneading the mounds roughly as you eased them apart, eager to see his tight hole stretch for you. His sounds were low at first, just cute little whimpers as he began to roll his hips back onto the cock, leaning back to support himself on one hand, splayed palm-down beside you. It wasn’t long, though, before he was crying out, panting as he bounced himself against the thick member like his life depended on it. His head lolling back limply, pale eyes fluttering into his skull, he brought the lollipop again to his lips, head tilted to one side so you could view his profile over his toned shoulder; he groaned as he lapped at the shrinking candy, red-tinted spit glimmering in the corners of his plump mouth, and without thinking you let out a raspy moan of your own.

“You like having your tight hole stretched by my cock, Mikey?” you asked him, tone so syrupy sweet it was almost condescending. He opened his eyes, shooting you a cheeky wink as he bobbed his head up and down, sweat-soaked curls clinging to the sides of his face and neck.

“You know I do,” he replied, still managing, even with his cracked, fucked-out voice, to sound nauseatingly self-satisfied. God, that boy wonder was something else, always seeming to have the upper hand even when he was submitting to you.

You dug your fingers harshly into the blonde’s muscular upper thighs, hoping to leave some sort of mark on his body; then you thrusted up into him with as much pointed aggression as you could muster, meeting him halfway, and in return came a deliciously needy whine from the back of his throat.

“Fuuuck,” he sighed, and you loved it, loved the sweet vulnerability seeping from his pores like honey. You worked your hips in time with his, making sure he could feel you filling him up, making sure he’d remember this for days to come. “Can I —“ he asked, looking over at you again, tongue darting to the edge of his mouth as he jutted his chin downwards towards his neglected cock. You knew what he was asking; smiling, you lifted your arm to lovingly pet at his damp hair.

“Since you’ve been such a good boy, and since you asked so nicely, go ahead.” Even if he hadn’t been so good, you probably would’ve let him anyway, but you weren’t about to admit that. He shifted himself so he was upright again, still eating that goddamned lollipop, and with his now-free hand he began to pump his length loosely.

His moans were erratic now, his hips pushing frantically down against your fake cock as his fist worked quickly between his legs. Vulgar sounds of slapping skin filled the air as Michael fucked himself on you, melding perfectly with his pornographic “uh-uh-uh’s” and your own low grunts. He was close, you could tell, his head thrown all the way back towards the ceiling, and with a few more upward pushes, he was cumming hard.

“Good boy,” you cooed as he rode out his orgasm, his motions slowing as he sucked in a sharp breath. Once he’d ridden out every last drop of white-hot pleasure, he gingerly pulled himself off of your cock; you observed with awe as his hole gaped from the massive thickness of your strap-on, the puckered skin surrounding his opening irritated and pink.

When he turned around, you could see that his smooth torso was painted with silky streaks of his cum, his cheeks flushed and rosy and beaming with perspiration. You were certain, in that moment, that there was no sight more beautiful than a defiled Michael Langdon.

“You’re too good to me,” he said breathlessly, biting down on the remainder of his lollipop and chewing the splinters of hard candy that had broken in his mouth.

“I know,” you teased, leaning up further against the pillows as he bent down to become eye-level with you. Pressing his lips against yours, you sighed at the hot, sticky sweetness clinging to his lips, warm tongue melding against yours to transfer the sugary flavor.

Just as expected, he tasted like cherry.

#michael langdon #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon one shot #american horror story #ahs #hawthorne michael #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagine #ahs smut #mine #cody fern #ahs x reader #ahs one shot #apocalypse

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stories-mostly · 5 years

Text

Stark's bug

Tony Stark x Son!reader

A day late it is here! Chapter 8 has arrived. For anyone wanting to read from the start I tag all the chapters #starks bug chapter 1;2;etc or just #chapter 1;2;3; etc. Since I solely post from mobile. Maybe one day I will link them but until now it's done this way. Have a nice read.

Words: 2067

Chapter 8

Easter was this weekend. You never celebrated in a religious sense but liked the preparation for it in school, like the crafting of egg baskets or drawing on eggshells. Still, you didn't like the thought of it passing without your dad by your side. The thought of him not hiding a few sweets around the house was saddening.

It's been almost three months without him, and while you weren't losing hope, clinging to the thought of him being alive, you really wanted him to be home for Easter so you could give him the egg you had colored in art class. It had the easter bunny on it. Or rather your best impression of it. You really didn't know what a humanoid rabbit had to do with jesus coming back from the dead, but you liked to think it had some connection. And now you had no smart ass dad who would answer your question with an outrageous and funny story exactly why the Easter-bunny and Jesus were connected before telling you the real truth an hour or so later. It bummed you out. And researching it yourself didn't have the same feeling to it.

Tuesday evening you were unaware what was just happening on a continent miles and miles from home. While you were falling asleep in his bed that was barely holding his scent anymore, a certain someone had just escaped his captors. Miles and miles away from home. And was now lost in a seemingly endless desert.

So you fell asleep feeling secure surrounded by the faint smell of your father still lingering deep within his unchanged sheets.

The dream you were having was hectic. It had slides, fireworks, a gameshow with ghosts and much more seemingly senseless themes that made complete sense within the dream.

Around 3am, maybe later, you were woken up by your uncle. He was shaking you a bit. Gently whispering for you to wake up, that he had good news and such.

You, half asleep, sat up yawning and were handed a phone by an ecstatic looking uncle Happy.

"Hello?" You mumbled as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. Still exhausted from the early wake up.

"Hey, Stark Jr. Good morning. I have someone here who desperately wants to talk to you. He said it can't wait. Should I let him?" Rhodey's voice came through the speaker sounding as if he was speaking through a smile.

In your tired confusion you just said "Yeah?" not really thinking about anything but how tired you were.

"Hey Bug. How are you?" The tired familiar voice sounded through the phone and awoke you suddenly.

You paused for a second, your still half sleeping brain processing the voice that was ringing through the phones speaker. Your stomach had reacted before you and was giving you a ton of happy little kicks.

"Daddy?" You asked in a shushed tone almost afraid it wasn't true. That your mind was just playing a cruel trick on you. But smiling nonetheless.

"Yeah Bug, how've you been?" A voice that clearly belonged to your father said softly with a smile you wouldn't be able to see.

"Daddy!" you said as your grin grew.

"Yeah I think we went over that."

"I'm great! Are you okay? When are you coming home?" you said basically bouncing up and down in his bed.

"I'm fine now. We're boarding the plane in a few minutes so about, a handful of hours? I'll be home soon don't worry. What's the time over there? Did Happy wake you up?"

"I don't know, yes. Come home soon daddy. Can I pick you up at the airport?"

"Of course, you and Pepper and Happy will all come to the airport later okay?"

"Okay!"

There was a short pause.

"I have to hang up now sweetie, see you soon. I love you."

"I love you too daddy. See you later."

And with that the call ended and your cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so brightly, happy tears were rolling down your cheeks. You sniffles as you said the next words.

"Uncle Happy, Daddy's coming home!" You jumped around the bed full of energy you didn't know what to do with before engulfing you uncle in a hug. Happy smiled and returned the bear hug.

"I have to show daddy what I've done while he was gone! Where is my diary? I need to check it." Happy handed you your diary together with your pen knowing full well you wouldn't go back to sleep now. You began flipping through it perfecting everything so your dad would know in full detail what you did the last three months. Happy left you to it and began making breakfast. Really early breakfast.

You ate and went to school like normal but today you were telling everyone about why you were so happy. The fatigue from being woken up so early hadn't set in at all.

Back home you prepared your diary some more and put the timeline you had crafted in school with your pictures in the back.

"Daddy will like this." you said to yourself and put it in your backpack ready to go pick him up. Though you were gonna have to wait one more hour for that.

You just bounced around the mansion making sure all your craftsmanship was still intact so your dad would be able to see them and be proud. Knowing that if you sit down for too long you'll fall asleep.

You also couldn't wait to show him the egg you had painted in school. You couldn't wait for all the things you had planned with him to happen.

When Happy had called you to get going you basically sprinted into the car. Your legs where bouncing up and down so fast that your didn't see them clearly.

On your way to pick up your dad you picked up Pepper too. She seemed like she had been crying so you gave her a hug, hers always made you feel better. So you returned the favour basically.

You talked the whole drive there about all the things you were going to do together. The amusement park being highest on your list, followed by going camping, and the zoo and playing together. And not to forget showing him all the progress you had made with the force.

As soon as the car was parked you jumped out and looked around yourself only to see nobody. That was a bit of a downer but you could live through a few more minutes of wait. You passed your time by talking to the strangers present at the site. Some paramedics gave you a lollipop. So you stuck with them for almost 20 minutes just talking about everything and nothing.

A plane soon landed and rolled up to you all. When the ramp opened you were basically vibrating with excitement. As soon as it touched the ground you said screw waiting and ran up to your dad. The impact of your hug almost sending him backwards if Rhodes hadn't been there to grab onto his arm.

"Good to see you again Bug. I hope you didn't miss me too much." You just held onto him for a few minutes until you were certain that this was your father and that he was actually back. When you looked up at him you were crying.

"Come here buddy." Rhodey said and stretched out his arms. As you went to him he picked you up and carried you down the ramp.

"I missed you too, you know? It's not like I have seen you either in the past months." Rhodey commented and tickled you.

"Where's my hug huh? Where's my hug?" He said grinning as you squirmed and laughed from being tickled.

Rhodey sat you down while your dad was talking to Pepper. You gave him a quick hug and ran away, not wanting to get tickled again.

Once you all were in the car Pepper was in the front seat first making phone calls, after bickering with your dad, while you were ranting to your dad about all the things you had done and learned while he was away.

"I can crush a spoon now!"

"Oh really? Show me ."

"But I dont have one."

"You can show me once we're home alright?"

You nodded and continued your rambling and how you had some gifts for him so he would know what you did while he was away.

When you stopped at Burger king you got some chicken nuggets from them, then it was off to the press conference Pepper had organized short term. She seemed really stressed.

You walked into the building walking next to your father, still eating your nuggets while the press people took pictures. You smiled and waved at some of them but didn't answer them as your mouth was full. It was bad to talk with your mouth full, you could choke and it was rude.

Inside a man named AGENT Coulson grabbed your attention and you decided to stick with Pepper and him instead of your dad and Obie. You still had a clear view of your father so all was fine.

"Is your name really Agent?" You asked him before he could even say hello.

"...No, uh my name is Phil Coulson, agent is like a title. Cool shirt by the way." he answered pointing at your Captain Magic shirt.

"That's sad, agent would be a cool name. And thank you Daddy bought it." You said, Phil just nodded.

You were about to ask another question when your father started talking. You listened a bit but decided to just look at the agent instead trying to figure him out. That seemed much more interesting.

You stayed standing since you weren't paying attention and a few people chuckled when your father was telling you directly to sit down. Embarrassed you did as told.

Once your dad was done with his announcement all hell broke lose, people were taking pictures and asking questions but your dad just went off the stage and out of the room with Obie.

You were confused about the ruckus so you stayed with Phil, he seemed nice and Pepper and Rhodes were close by so you felt safe. Also it looked like they were going to argue and you really didn't like it when they did.

"So, are you like a spy?" You asked him picking the crumbs out of you chicken nuggets box.

"No, I mean kind of? I'm an Agent, I'm working with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"Thats a long name. What are you doing here? Spying?"

"No," he chuckled "We need to ask your father about the circumstances of his escape. I already made out a date with miss Potts. So I think I will see you again soon," Escape? So he was kidnapped? You shrugged off the thought.

"Cool... So do you have a gun then, like in the movies?"

"I do have a gun from time to time but not currently."

"What do you do with it? Kill people?"

"I try not to."

You were stunned, there was a person who claimed that he was an agent for a Division you had never heard of and he was telling you how he had probably killed a few people. Your mouth was hanging open.

Before you could ask any other questions he was gone and so was everybody else besides Pepper who was waiting for you.

At home, once you two were alone, you told Tony all about what you've been up to while he read your diary. You talked and talked and talked until you were finally tired. You fell asleep on the couch with a piece of Pizza still in your hand.

Tony smiled down fondly at you, despite you being torn away from him for almost three months you didn't treat him much differently than before.

You were still the rambling mess of a little boy he remembered. And very inquisitive about the arc reactor in his chest.

He put down your diary, took the pizza piece, and covered your body with a blanket.

Well you might have become a bit more clingy. He thought while stroking your hair softly. He had been so afraid of what might happen to you if he doesn't come back. He didn't want you to end up like him. He wants you to grow up knowing that you can rely on him, that you always have his support. And he cant do that when he's dead.

He shuddered out a sigh and put you to bed.

Tags: @shannonr2003 @art-estrange @nicholasbich @tater-thottie @tonystanktheirondad @gaylemonshark @emilaa2001

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

Yandere Fling Posse Headcanons // Hypnosis Mic X Reader//

NGL I didn’t really like Fling Posse before writing this,but now ....💓💓💓 Also huge thanks to @minoux-x for her help with writing these HC’s!!

🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲🏮🍭🎲

ramuda amemura

🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭

"Sweetheart..."

"wanna have some fun with me?"

Gentaro Yumeno

🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮🏮

"I love you (Y/N)~"

YOU LOVE HIM AND HE LOVES YOU...... OR IS THAT TOO JUST A LIE?

"I promise that is no lie, my love"

Dice Arisugawa

🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲

"You're my lucky charm (y/n)...."

"Now, now (y/n) is that any way to talk to the man that practically owns your life? Why don't I just kill you right here and now? I'm sure your body parts must be work some yen, right?"

"...I'm never letting you go~”

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anon-luv · 5 years

Text

[.2.] Countdown to Us (Yoongi X Reader, Taehyung X Reader)

Genre: Romance/Angst Soulmate AU

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader, Taehyung X Reader

What if your soulmate’s life was literally in the palm of your hand?? What if your soulmate is not the same man you have been in love with your whole life?? Was your soulmate late, or had the fates done a grave mistake..

Word Count: 4.2K+

♪ New Fic Playlist ♪ (Will be updated as story progresses)

Author’s Note: Sorry I took so long loves. I have been super busy at work, and with everything going on writing has been a bit slow. I was able to finish this chapter and almost finish a few other’s of my WIPs. I am hoping you all enjoy this story. I promise it is going somewhere. The begining is slow, but I am so excited to show you all what I have planned for this. This story has been my favorite to plan, since I literally made up the whole world myself. Let me know what you all think :D

LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!! Good or bad it is always appreciated since it helps me develop as a writer. Minor Grammar mistakes are possible ( I will come back and reedit about a million times I promise). It takes me a lot to get the confidence to post, and when I do I love to see ya’ll comments and reblogs. It encourages me. So thank you guys :D

♪ It’s like I told you; If you stay, I stay. ♪ — Lana Del Rey

It was like a ticking time bomb. It marked the beginning of what our society had deemed as normal, and it marked the end of what I had classified as my normal.

Taehyung's brown eyes had not left my figure the whole way home, and now as we laid in bed his voice was silent, but his trembling hand as it traced the darkened ‘50’ in my palm communicated the internal dilemma tonight had pitched our way.

“You know I love you… nothing has changed” my quiet raspy voice rang through the quiet room shocking us both.

“Nothing has changed... yet” Taehyung replied in a stronger voice than that of my own. Taehyung had always been brave, he had traveled through cities and forests bringing back full notebooks with stories of high mountaintops filled with white cold snow and drawings of an endless row of lit up buildings. Everything in my imagination vivid with the descriptions he planted to bloom within my brain. Trails I could only visit in my dreams for now because I had been condemned with strict, close minded parents.

“No, don’t say that… we have battled through rougher storms”, I replied grasping his sun kissed face between my hands, “You and I are not just for nows. We are forevers. We are eternal”

Taehyung avoided my eyes as he sat up, “Do you really believe that (y/n), you think we can go on like nothing happened while that clock in your hand ticks synchronized with each of his heartbeats. This soulmate shit is not a joke”

I looked at him petrified, “I will not hurt him. I will not misbehave and have his years stolen if that is what you think…”

Taehyung nodded, “(Y/N), you can’t fight fate”

“I know I can’t. A new year is about to begin, and you will be expected at the soulmate ceremony. You will meet your soulmate that night, what are you going to do about that??” I asked as fear and rage consumed me from the inside out.

“I am going to talk to her, and I will explain my heart already belongs to someone else. I will be her friend; not her lover.” Taehyung confidently replied, “I am strong and sure of who is the true owner of my heart”

I gulped down nervously. I had almost forgotten the soulmate ceremony would arrive along with the strongest storms of winter, and with our 25th year of life it would be our turn to walk on forward to be matched if we hadn’t run into our other half’s yet. Young adults from all over the world met up in the largest ceremony of the year in the capital/holy city where The Fates and Aphrodite made a guest appearance to finish matching the lone souls who had yet to have their mark burn into their skin.

The ‘50’. The curse. The countdown in my palm. Each number down is one less year, not for me but for him…. my soulmate. I had behaved in the eyes of my peers and superiors to keep his years intact for when I would finally encounter him, I would be able to move on forward without guilt. His lifespan untouched. 50 years from when our eyes would meet for this first time his would end. My soulmate would have a full life.

“I am strong too” I stubbornly said as my eyes watered and voice trembled. The sting in my palm pulsating.

“Did he have a 50 too??” Taehyung asked trying to drop the subject of his own soulmate that was still somewhere out there walking unknown to him in this world.

I shrugged my shoulders, I had not bothered to check at the moment with everything that was going, “I am not sure”

Taehyung stood up from the bed quickly rushing towards his sweater, “Wait, where are you doing??”

“We have to find him” he rushed out, “I will go, you stay here it is almost morning”

“No Tae, wait…” I rushed to him, “It is late, he probably isn’t there anymore. We can go tomorrow. Together.”

Taehyung stayed silent at the suggestion, his eyes glimmering with the internal battle brimming from these nights’ events.

“Please babe. He didn’t look like a bad person. I highly doubt he would sabotage my years by misbehaving. He didn’t seem very scared of the demigods either which is a good sign…. yes??”

Taehyung nodded, “Fine, but tomorrow we will head that way around the time we last saw him alright?? Together??”

I nodded, “Together”

I lied. During the night as I rested entangled within Taehyung’s warmth I didn’t think about those brown orbs or rosy lips against the pale skin of my soulmate. I didn’t dream about his deep voice or long slender fingers interlacing with mine. I didn’t dream about him, but as soon as the warm rays from the sun tickled my skin awake everything about the stranger from last night intrigued me. The bed was empty beside me, just like it was almost every morning after a night spend with Taehyung. My mom’s frightening yells would scare him away from the comfort of my bed sheets and into the cool early dim mornings.

I stretched as my bare feet hit the floor, my impulsive ass had always been curious of what fate had chosen for me. Clearly Fate was blind to not see my one and truly soulmate had been with me all along; Taehyung.

I put on one of Taehyung’s old hoodies, the sleeves long enough to cover my hands from curious eyes.

“Mom I am heading out” I yelled loudly and jogged away before I could hear her scream out a response.

I traveled the street and alleys quickly, not bothering to stop and interact with neighbors or acquaintances. My mind had a mission, and that was to find the stranger and get rid of these nagging thoughts that had been attacking me since my eyes opened this morning.

A fluttering feeling of what I was declaring to be just nerves had doubled with every step, the dialogue I had relentlessly practiced repeatedly on the way to the convenience store had been thrown out the window as soon as it came in sight. I pulled up the hoodie trying to block my face from the world as I walked on in. I took a deep breath of encouragement as I stepped into the lonely store. His silhouette taunting me from outside the window throwing doubts my way as I fast paced into the candy isle. A lollipop hung from his mouth as he read a magazine.

“Welcome, let me know if you need help” his deep voice traveled throughout the small store shaking the daylights out of me, goosebumps traveled up my arm as my eyes found his.

I deviated my line of sight quickly hoping not to get recognized only to miserably fail as I saw him walking towards me, the magazine left abandoned at the counter. I turned to face him with a KitKat chocolate bar in hand.

His dark brown hair was silkier than I had remembered, the need to run my fingers through it had me cracking my knuckles nervously, the forgotten candy now laying on the floor.

The handsome stranger/soulmate bend down to pick it up before it was left abandoned. He looked into my eyes as he cautiously touched my arm pulling it towards him. He very slowly and carefully pulled up my sleeve revealing the mark in my palm as he placed the forgotten candy on it.

I looked towards his hand then, the dark 50 printed on his own reflecting my life intact and mesmerizing at the same time. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, the fear that had gathered in the pit of my stomach released with that lone deep breath.

“My name is Yoongi” he stated with a deep voice and a nervous bite of his lip.

“(Y/N)” I said trying to sound strong yet spilling out a small tremble at the end of my name.

Yoongi’s eyes traveled along my face making me self-conscious as I lowered down my hoodie allowing him to get the full image of what fate had put in his path. Yoongi looked at my palm once again and then back to his own. I could hear the gears turning in his head with the way his eyes traveled from my hand to his.

I stayed silent. I was unsure of what to say as I let my own eyes travel along his handsome features. I couldn’t help but compare Taehyung to Yoongi. They were both so different, yet they both had an unknown power over me. I had to look at the facts though. Taehyung had been slow to grow. Natural. Yoongi had been fast and unexpected. Fate/Fake.

Yoongi’s deep timbre brought me back to the present, “We need to talk”

I nodded reluctantly, “That we do”

“My mom is dying” Yoongi said breaking the silence that had been established from the moment he escorted me to a small break room placed in the back of the store.

Yoongi stood tall against the wooden worn-down counter as I sat in a raggedy old plastic chair placed about 5 feet away from where he was. The air was thick and the need to run into his arms had strangely been creeping up on me as an unwelcome runny nose in a rainy winter day. Annoying, overwhelming, and part of the norm as per society deemed it, but I hadn’t expected the effect of a soulmate to overrule my senses the way it had been. His mere scent had me trembling in place, and his voice soothed me in ways no one else had in my life. He felt familiar, like coming home to your own bed after spending weeks away from it. Safe. I did not like it.

I nodded not sure of what to say as I coughed awkwardly squeaking out an, “I am sorry about that”

Yoongi smiled a bit my way, “It is in no way your fault, but I do need a favor from you.”

“What?” I asked a bit confused to where this conversation was heading to.

“How long??” He asked as he stared straight into my eyes.

I tilted my head like a confused puppy unsure of what he was talking about.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow as a smirk crawled its way into his handsome features, “How long have you been together with…”

“Tae… his name is Taehyung. We have been together for years now… we have been best friends since we were children, and stuff just started building up from that…” I started building excuses for my relationship with Taehyung unconsciously, my tongue feeling heavy against my lips as my mouth moved on its own.

Yoongi carefully inspected my face as if he was trying to read more into the words that were spilling out of my lips, “Hmm… you know you don’t have to do that right??”

“Excuse me… What am I doing??”

“This soulmate thing doesn’t have to change a thing. It is your decision. You are free to love and be with whoever you want to be with. I am no one to tell you what you should or should not do. I am not going to do that to you” Yoongi said, his voice soft with a small sprinkle of concern.

“Oh… I… thank you” I said now my face hot, unable to meet his brown eyes.

“OK. Now about that favor… I need you to pretend to be okay with this whole thing. I mean I know I just said I was okay with you not being with me, and I mean it, but you see my mom is a firm believer in fate and soulmates. You see her, and my father were stubborn kids and then when they met and everything fell into place… it was too late for them, she doesn’t want me to go through the same thing” he rushed out no longer looking at me, but instead looking dead set on the floor.

“You mean for me to pretend to be accepting of our bond?” I asked.

“Yeah, just for a bit… like I said she doesn’t have very long” he whispered now looking at me pleadingly.

“How long did they… I am sorry I shouldn’t ask”

“No, it’s okay.” he said, “From the time they met… he was down to 20 years and she was down to 25 years left. We estimate she has less than one month left”

“More than half?” I asked.

Yoongi just nodded.

I raised my palm to him, the 50 clear as day in my palm, untouched he still had a lifetime ahead.

He walked forward his hand reaching out to my palm as he eyed me questioningly as if asking for permission before he carefully traced the 50 in my palm just like Taehyung had done last night. Unlike Tae’s burning painful touch, Yoongi’s felt almost minty as if he was soothing the recent burn with an almost fresh cold sensation with just the graze of his fingertip.

My hand wrapped around his before I knew what I was doing. I took my time inspecting his long pale fingers and his visible veins, and then the 50 that resided right in the middle of his own palm. He interlaced his fingers with mine and I was more than accepting, the need to be close to him finally taking over. Yoongi smile and I smiled back.

“It’s nice isn’t it” I asked unsure of why I was saying such things when a second ago I had confessed of loving another man, “I know it’s just the soulmate bond triggering all this but it’s nice”

Yoongi let go of my hand quickly and took a step back, “Yeah the soulmate bond, anyway do you think you can come over tomorrow night for dinner??” His soft tone had been thrown out the window, his voice now deeper and distant.

“Yeah sure. Tomorrow is fine” I replied standing up from the chair. I started walking towards the exit as I could feel Yoongi following close behind. Taehyung’s face flashed through my mind reminding me of the planned visit for tonight.

I turned quickly around only to bump into Yoongi’s chest. His body warmth sending a swarm of chills up my spine, “Actually, I need a favor as well.” I looked up to meet his eyes, his closeness making my breath come in and out more rapidly, borderline hyperventilating as I drowned in his brown eyes. What I was about to say left forgotten as I counted each and every eyelash that framed his eyes.

Yoongi’s hand caressed my cheek softly and for a second, I let myself be consumed by his touch, but then Yoongi’s once again soft caring voice spoke out, “What favor?”

I snapped back to reality and reluctantly took a step back as Yoongi’s hand fell to his side, “Can you not tell Tae I came to see you today?? He wants to come talk later on tonight, and I wanted to wait…but...I… just...I”

Yoongi nodded, “Don’t worry about it. I am assuming the favor I asked from you, should be kept on the down low as well, right?”

I nodded, ‘Yeah I don’t think he would be very fond of the idea of us spending too much time together.”

Yoongi send a sad looking smile my way, “I guess I will see you tonight then”

I nodded, “Later Yoongi”

I turned once again towards the exit, as my feet grew heavier and heavier each step, I took away from him. It was like my body wanted something my heart had rejected. My own body was rejecting my decision. I looked back to wave Yoongi one last goodbye. He send a bright smile my way as he waved back, but I could have sworn his eyes were anything but happy.

Darkness came quicker than I had expected and with the shadows came Taehyung. He jumped up my window and into my room as if he had some kind of superpower. He ran forth embracing me as if he had been gone for years, his hands trembled as he caressed my face slowly, I could see relief in his facial expression as I hugged him back. My lips sprinkled kisses all over his face finally searching his lips in an earth-shaking kiss. The warmth of his mouth coating mine sweet and slowly taking our time to rediscover each other as my hands traveled underneath his shirt on his bare back.

Taehyung smiled as he separated himself from me, “Not so quick there princess, we have places to go tonight”

I sighed annoyed, “Can’t we just cuddle for a little bit???”

“We can cuddle, kiss, and do anything you want on the way back, but we got to start heading out. I know you well darling, and I know once you get into bed it will be almost impossible to rip you away from those sheets” Taehyung said as he walked to my closet pulling out one of his old hoodies. He helped me wiggle my way into it, and as soon as my head had popped up, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead, “It is chilly outside”

I nodded, “Looks like we might be getting some storms too, so let’s get this over and done with quickly”

Quietly we both made our way out into the shadows of the night. The town was almost clear of wandering souls as the moon lit the path to the little store.

“Are you nervous??” I heard Taehyung ask after a long period of silence.

“No, why should I be??” I asked in return.

“This is your soulmate we are going to be seeing, and he is right up the street” he replied as he held onto my hand a little tighter.

“And you are the love of my life. I am fine, don’t worry about it. Are you nervous??” I asked curiously as I peeked at his beautifully sculptured profile.

“No, just a bit possessive to be honest… and jealous. This man won the lottery with my woman. It is only normal for me to feel a bit … you know…” Taehyung joked around as the store came into sight.

Taehyung walked inside first. I walked closely behind him curious of how things would develop now that it was known that the stranger before him was my soulmate. Yoongi stood right in front of the counter as if he was waiting for us. He was dressed in dark tight jeans and a white plain shirt that framed his body perfectly. There was a glint of something in his eyes I could not pinpoint as he eyed Taehyung and I from head to toe making me a bit weak in the knees when we met each other’s eyes.

“Good evening, can I help you with something??” Yoongi smirked towards Taehyung. The hostile environment overwhelmed my senses as I hid myself behind one of the isles.

“Cut the crap”, Taehyung responded surprising me, “You know why we are here. I doubt you would be stupid enough...”

“Cut it out Taehyung” I heard my voice ring out, “You promised we weren’t going to make a huge scene out of this, so please stop this rabid dog attitude and let’s do this peacefully, ok?”

Taehyung looked at me with betrayal written all over his handsome face, no more teasing smile my way as it was now replaced with an upset pout similar to that of a five-year-old who had just gotten grounded

“Babe please” I said softly, and his demeanor changed drastically with that simple plead. I could see him melt in front of my eyes as his shoulder’s relaxed and his found turned into a little smile as the word babe slipped passed my lips.

Yoongi looked down at his feet as if in deep thought, he then proceeded to lock the front door, “It was closing time anyway” he said as he shrugged his shoulders uncaringly.

Taehyung rolled his eyes as Yoongi signed for us to follow him to the back where him and I had spoken previously. The room looked a bit homier than before as there was now a row of snacks in a corner. I was assuming Yoongi had set up for us, and the fact he had been as thoughtful enough to do such a kind thing set a few butterflies off in my stomach. I smiled at the small cute detail as my eyes wondered around the goodies.

“Would you like some chips or cookies??” Yoongi asked, “There is also some juice here…”

“Yes please” “We are not hungry” rang simultaneously.

Taehyung glared at me as I walked forward and grabbed a juice box and cookies, “Thank you”

Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly before eye contact could even be made between Yoongi and I, “Anyway, I am Taehyung, and this is (Y/N). I am sorry about earlier, but due to the circumstances… I didn’t really know how to act”

Yoongi nodded understandingly, “Name is Yoongi, and I get it. Take a seat. Look I am not going to try and force myself onto her or anything if that is what you are worried about. Being soulmates doesn’t always mean we have to be together”

My heart surprisingly dropped at that comment. I was with Taehyung I shouldn’t had felt that way, but I did. My bag of chocolate chip cookies no longer looked appetizing after that. I snapped back into reality as Taehyung pulled a chair out for me to sit on.

“Thank you for being understanding, but that is not all I came here to talk about” Taehyung proceeded to say even catching me by surprise as I sat on the chair.

“Wait it isn’t??” I asked confused myself.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow my way as if in sneaking in a gesture my way.

“What’s going on??” Yoongi asked intrigued.

“I met an unmarked” Taehyung monotonously stated as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“A what??” I asked completely uneducated on the matter as Yoongi’s eyes widened with surprise.

Yoongi responded this time, “An unmarked is an uncursed. In other words, a person without a dictated soulmate.” He turned towards Taehyung now, “How?? I have only heard rumors of such people and situations”

“Same. My friend Jimin introduced me to him. Jimin’s mark is fading. They think his soulmate died in an unexpected accident and he wants to get rematched, so he was seeking out in dark places for an answer to his prayers, and then he ran into him. His name is Namjoon and he said he could help us break the curse and get us rematched so I can be with (y/n) and you can find a soulmate who will be able to correspond your feelings” Taehyung said excitedly.

Yoongi scrunched up his nose worriedly, “That doesn’t sound like it would be easy though. How does he propose we do such thing??”

My mouth dropped in shock. The realization of what we would probably have to go through shook me senseless and fear started to cloud my mind. I knew what Taehyung was capable of and what he would do to seek out what he is looking for He had never been one to back out of a challenge, and for that I dreaded for the worse possible outcome. For the first time in my life my admiration for his bravery and sense of adventure turned into fear of the unknown.

“Travel. A country away before the fates get to the capital. Make a deal in exchange for the freedom of you both” Taehyung replied as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

Yoongi’s grimaced Taehyung’s way, his eyes filled with worry. His mom. Yoongi couldn’t travel, especially not at this time.

“No, we can’t. That sounds way too dangerous Taehyung” I plead his way, “We can just arrange something between the three of us. Simple and without any traveling or dangers.”

“(Y/N), Yoongi deserves love as well, and we would be affecting his love life and way of leaving. He would be linked to you just like you are to him. The soulmate bond goes both ways. You wouldn’t be the only one suffering because of the fates’ mistake” Taehyung tried reasoning with me as he took a hold of my face and quickly pecked my lips. For the first time in my life his touch did not soothe my uneasiness. It felt wrong. I separated myself quickly from him and turned towards Yoongi. His face turned to stone without a single feeling encrypted in his pink lips.

“When do we have to leave??” Yoongi asked monotonously.

“You don’t have to...” I started only to be cut off by Taehyung enthusiastic response.

“This weekend. A group of them are going to strike deals and they invited us along” Tae smiled towards Yoongi, “I can pay for food and any necessary items for the travel”

“Not necessary. I will go” he replied.

“Wait, but…” I said trying to halt the escalating plans.

Yoongi turned to face me, his face blank of emotion, “I will go”

★ The universe, I’d learned, was never, ever kidding. It would take whatever it wanted, and it would never give it back. ★ — Cheryl Strayed

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exonclzen · 7 years

Text

ice cream & haunted houses

pairing: chenle x reader genre: super super super fluff you will vomit rainbows through your eyes plot: date with chenle at an amusement park word count: 2,429 a/n: i am TERRIBLE with scenario titles wtf. it’s my first scenario after one year of hiatus, i seriously hope u like it! ♡

He was already there when you arrived at the fountain, located near the entrance of the amusement park. The dusk painted the sky in shades of peachy pink and waves of soft violet, and you noticed how the colour of his hair matched harmoniously with the tints of brown trying to fit into the odd mixture of hues and saturations. He hadn’t seen you, not yet, but you took that as an advantage to study his handsome and soothing figure.

He was wearing that old pale pink oversized sweater he had since the third grade – the same sweater you were always complimenting -, even though the sleeves were having trouble reaching out to cover his wrists. He insisted on wearing it as much as possible when he was with you, because he knew you loved how good it looked on him.

A paper bag loosely swung between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had brought it there for. He kept turning his head from one side to another, perhaps looking for you, anxiously waiting for you to show up in front of him – or at least, that’s what you hoped for.

You raised your hand as if you wanted to touch the twilight sky, making yourself visible for the boy on the other side of the street who was blindly searching for you in all the wrong places.

“Chenle!” you waved your arm, clumsily standing yourself on your toes.

His head turned to the petite figure near the water fountain, worried eyes instantly turning brighter than the moonlight as they landed on you. Inside your chest, your heart skipped a beat the moment you watched the corners of his plump little mouth curl upwards into the smile he only made when he saw you in your graphic t-shirts, and your skinny jeans and your rounded glasses. He frantically waved back at you, gesturing with his hand for you to come closer.

The urge to have him closer to you was so intense that you mindlessly crossed the street, making your way towards him like a child attracted by the scent of gummy bears and lollipops.

The moon and the stars were already hanging from the tidal wave of the darkest blue like adornments in a marionette show. In less than a second, both of you were facing each other, with stupid in love smiles plastered on your faces. You looked up at him, taking your time admiring his looks and how soft he looked covered in your favourite pale pink sweater.

You and your pretty little mind were so caught up in Chenle’s soft smile that you didn’t even notice when his middle finger and thumb flicked against your forehead, earning a cry from you as both of your hands covered the barely hurt spot.

“Outch! What was that for?” you asked with accusing eyes.

“You didn’t even watch if there was a car coming when you crossed the street!” he nagged at you as if he was one of your parents. “Don’t ever do that again!”

Under your breath, you tried to conceal a smirk. Seeing him caring about you and scolding you for not being careful never failed to make your heart flutter and your cheeks become hotter than blue fire.

“Well, sorry.” You replied pretentiously, letting your hands fall to your sides as you wondered if Chenle would notice the shades of red absorbed in your face. “What’s that?”

Chenle diverted the sweet stare he was holding on you to the paper bag on his hand. His expression transformed immediately and, before you noticed, his eyes were a curved thin line and his teeth were showing in a wide smile. “Oh, this is for you!”

He stretched out his arm towards you and as he did, your lips slightly parted in pure surprise. You had gone in so many dates with Chenle, yet this was the first time he was bringing you a gift. You knew he was up to something, you knew him well enough to know. But what? Had something changed in your friendship that you didn’t quite pay attention to? If so, what had changed?

You took the paper bag in your petite hands, not only curious about what he had brought you, but also apprehensive. Chenle was one of the sweetest boys you had met your entire life; however, he was also one of the most mischievous.

The paper bag contained a medium sized black box, its cover involved in a silk bow. You grabbed the box in your hands and let the paper bag fall onto ground, carelessly. Giving Chenle one last curious glance, you opened the box to see a pair of round spectacle glasses with coloured lenses – the same glasses you couldn’t seem to shut up about for the past two weeks. In all of your dates, you would always drag him to the store just to whine about how pretty and cool they were.

You gasped at the sight of the most precious object you now owned. “Chenle… I’ve been wanting these for so long… You really didn’t have to… Thank you…”

He chuckled and you felt your heart jump a little. “Y/N, stop it… I wanted to give them to you for a long time, but I wanted to give them in a special day.”

“Special day?” You asked almost in a tone of negligence. You were still too focused on examining every millimetre of the beautiful glasses you could now call yours.

Chenle gently took your hand in his, helping you in the movements of your fingers to put the glasses back on the box as in a please pay attention to me request. You stared at him, bewildered, and you swore you had blinked hundred, a thousand, perhaps a million times when your cold skin touched his.

“I’m glad you liked the glasses.” He smiled, then pointing to the enormous and twinkling amusement park’s entrance. “Shall we go in?”

Holding the paper bag on your hands, your eyes shone at him like a million fireworks in the night sky. At that moment, you were the happiest girl in the planet.

***

The silver moonlight immersed into Chenle’s hair colour like a feather carried by the warm summer breeze. You were walking slowly around the amusement park, half trying to find the next attraction you wanted to ride on, half appreciating each other’s company while comfortably eating your ice creams in silence.

As you took the last bite into your mint chocolate ice cream, your eyes darted to relish Chenle’s feautures, from his beaded eyes, to his perfectly sculpted and defined nose, to the chubby apples of his cheeks and finally halting at the sweet form of his plump lips; he was too handsome for you to handle, but his personality was way more valuable than his looks. He was clever, funny, perceptive, enthusiastic of your interests and, above all, the strongest shoulder you could ever lean on. He knew you better than anyone else. He always offered to help you doing your homework whenever you had difficulties; he never failed to make you smile or laugh when you were feeling down and had tears threatening to slide down; he was your best reader, he knew exactly what each one of your expressions meant, you were like an open book for him, but just for him, no one else; listening to you talking with passion about the things you loved was his ultimate favourite hobby, he would never let you down or make you feel bad for loving the things you loved; his shoulders were always available for you, and only for you, and they were your favourite place to rest your head on at the end of tiresome days.

Your wandering thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Chenle’s cocky voice, accompanied by a mischievous wink. “Y/N, I know I’m handsome, but you don’t need to keep staring at me.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Ugh, stop it. I just thought I had seen a bit of ice cream in your face, that’s it!”

“Yeah, right!” He giggled. “So, what attraction do you want ride on now?”

“Hmm… I was thinking….” Your eyes roamed between all the surrounding attractions, with colourful lights blinking, unsynchronised, each of them drawing more of your attention that the one you had seen before.

Then, you spotted a darker attraction, filled with monsters and ghosts and bloody figures waving their dangerous knives and letting out evil laughs like in a horror cartoon.

“That one! I want to go on the haunted house!” You rejoiced, pointing excitedly to the attraction.

“T-the… The haunted house?” Your eyes met Chenle’s when you spotted hesitation in his voice.

“Yes...” He gulped. And you noticed. “Wait… Are you scared to go on the hauted house, Zhong Chenle?!”

“No! No at all!” He frantically shook his head no and you burst into laughter the second you realised he was lying. “If you want to go to the haunted house that badly, then let’s go!”

He started to walk towards the haunted house, determined to show you how fearless he was, and you followed behind him.

You insisted in buying the tickets and after a long argument about it, Chenle gave in and let you. Both of you patiently waited until the little carriage of the train who would tour you around the haunted house had a free seat and, as soon as other people got out, you sat side by side at the front.

“Are you sure you want to stay in the front?” Chenle whispered and when you looked at him, fear was all over his face.

You tilted your head to the side, comforting him with a soft smile. “Chenle, it’s okay… We don’t have to g-”

“No, I want to go into this haunted house with you.” He smiled. “It’s something you like and I want you to share the things you like with me too.”

Deep down, you knew he had always been terribly scared of anything that had to do with horror – and this time, you chose the haunted house not only because you liked the adrenaline it gave you, but also because you wanted to help him fight his fears. Although it might not be the best occasion to do it, you wanted to, at least, try.

Trying to conceal his fear, you watched him as he played with his fingers, anxiety beginning to erode him inside. Regardless of being overly responsive to every touch of Chenle – your heart skipped a trillion beats, your cheeks turn red and you always avoided eye contact -, this moment was one of those where you couldn’t let your shyness win over the love you felt for him. With your mind settled, you inhaled and slowly let your fingers search for his, entwining both of your piano hands together. Chenle held your gaze with an incredulous look plastered onto his face, probably surprised by the fact that this was the first time he was not making the move on you. You curled your lips to him in a smile which he returned with glittering irises and dilated pupils.

The moments Chenle shortened the distance between your bodies and let his head fall upon your shoulder, the train started.

***

Honestly, you almost hadn’t paid any attention to the haunted house tour. In fact, you hadn’t paid any attention at all. Your whole world had stopped the second Chenle tightened the grip on your hand and leaned onto your shoulder for comfort. Your heart was beating faster than the speed of light, harder than a meteor shower crossing the atmosphere and cratering the earth. Although the air was filled with other people’s screams and laughs within the haunted house, the sounds of your heartbeats had been loud enough for you to fear that Chenle would listen. He had spent the entire trip clinging onto your shoulder while pressing his lids together from time to time. And you… you had spent the entire trip staring at him.

Staring at Chenle in secret was always the same as clicking in a button to mute all the noise buzzing in the world. Then, your favourite love songs started to play in the background of your mind and you admired his every feature and flaw and thought about how it would feel to have his arms wrapping up around you in an embrace full of care and love and support. An embrace you could only imagine and, much to your disappointment, were not able to bring to reality.

The haunted house train arrived at its final destination and Chenle detached himself from you, yet not breaking your sweet and warm holding hands. You got out of the train and Chenle was guiding you silently through the crowd of people wandering round in the amusement park, always looking over his shoulder to make sure you were still there with him. Something was not right. Why was he acting this oddly?

As soon as you reached the frontier that separated the amusement park and the river, Chenle stopped under a pretty tree showered by the beautiful moonlight and shining stars and immediately enveloped both of his arms on your neck, pushing you against the warmth of his sweater.

You gasped, caught in surprise by his sudden act. Your arms were hanging loose, with an unknown place to settle. Chenle wasn’t much taller than you, but tall enough to rest his chin on the top of your head as one of his hands played with your hair, gently and purely out of love. “I really like you, you know?”

When you woke up from your static state, you managed to place your arms around his waist, linking your hands together on his back. Your eyelids clung into each other and you sank into his embrace as if there was no tomorrow. “I really like you too…”

His chin parted from the top of your head and that allowed you to look up at him in delight. For the hundredth time tonight, he caught you by surprise by leaning in and placing a sweet kiss onto your forehead.

There you stood, two kinds in love under the starry night and ocean of silver moon, in the arms of one another. You felt warm, protected, loved. You were smiling and your head sank into his chest even more.

At that moment, everything was right in the world. At that moment, you swore you were the happiest girl in the entire universe.

#chenle scenarios #chenle x reader #chenle gif #zhong chenle #chenle fluff #chenle cute #chenle series #chenle oneshot #mayswriting: chenle

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