#jd writes

Mikey's head was pounding as he awoke, clearly regretting his mistake of drinking a bit too much the night before. He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to ward off the dizziness. When he manages to open them, he realises just exactly where he is.

He's lying on the couch of the tour bus. Or, more accurately, on you.

He has no recollection of how he ended up there, but he feels it's safe to assume he made you stay with him last night; he's been told he's a clingy drunk, and god knows he'd get attached to the person he's head over heels for. The person who's currently asleep under him, hips between his legs.

He sits up, gazing down at your sleeping form, and he can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction at the situation drunk him had gotten current him into. He admires the shape of your body under him, the contours of your face, the shape of your lips, the way your eyes are shut so peacefully... he's never seen you more beautiful. He tries to be mad at himself for thinking of you that way, but with the alcohol not quite out of his system and the blood quickly rushing downwards, he lets that idea go rather quickly.

His jeans are growing uncomfortable as he sits on your hips, watching your chest rise and fall in your sleep. He whines softly, mind clouded with desire as he observes you, and the conflicting knowledge that it's so, so wrong.

He'd be gentle. Quick. You wouldn't even know.

Mikey slowly begins rocking his hips against yours, stifling a groan. The friction from his jeans makes the sensations all the more delicious, and he can't help but imagine what it'd be like to be inside you. He shuts his eyes, picturing his aching cock pushing in and out of your tight cunt while you shake back and forth like a ragdoll in your state of sleep. He imagines himself thrusting into you roughly, waking you up with the way he splits you open. His hips move faster as he imagines the sounds you would make if you were awake, the way you would beg for him.

He leans down as he grinds against you, pressing light kisses along your neck so as to not wake you. But none of it is enough. He needs more. He's got to have more.

He sits back up, fumbling with the fly of his jeans and shifting them down slightly along with his boxers. He takes himself in his hand and runs a hand across his length with a shudder, already leaking with precum. He tries jacking himself off to the sight of you, pretending it was your hand instead of his like he's done so many times before, but it's not enough, it's not right, it's not you. And so he reaches down to the waistband of your pants and pulls them down.

The sight of you in your underwear makes his hips jerk unconsciously. Internally, he feels disgusting, like a monster, for what he plans to do. But physically, he's never felt more pleasure.

And so he pushes your underwear to the side, lines himself up, and pushes in.

He knows it's wrong, but he doesn't care. He knows he should've looked for protection, but he doesn't care. He knows you could wake up any moment, but he doesn't care. They're all risks he's willing to take.

He bites his lip to stop himself from moaning as he bottoms out, carefully watching your face to see if you'll stir as he begins to slowly move his hips. He watches the peaceful expression on your face as you squeeze around him; the only sounds on the silent bus are his quiet pants, and the sound of slick as he gently thrusts in and out. He's careful not to hurt you or move too fast, in order to prevent you waking up and catching him in the act.

He can't believe it. He's finally fucking you. Sure, you're asleep, but it's close enough. If anything, it turns him on more.

He can feel his stomach tightening as he nears his limit. He kisses your neck softly, not stopping himself as he moans into your skin. He tenses up, hips stuttering at their own accord as he fills you with his cum.

He pulls out after a moment, crawling off you and resetting your clothes to hide what he had just done. He sets the blanket over you and heads to the bathroom to clean up. He takes one last look at you as you lie there sleeping and he can't help but think to himself that he doesn't regret it.

There is something completely off about the side of his face. There should be more wrong than that, she thinks, after all—he is dead. (He is not). (He might as well be). He’s never coming back.

The day after it happened, Mai had almost cried, because they would never see him again. Ty Lee didn’t come by the palace for weeks. Now, they are two years older. Azula still sees him, all the time.

His face is not burned like it should be, but it is distorted on the side father’s hand had been. Like she can’t really see it properly, blurred, forgotten.

Sometimes, when it is hot, she can hear him screaming.

“Daddy wake” you whined while holding your dragon stuffie. “It’s pool day today. Please don’ say you forgot” you said softly while poking his face in hopes of waking him. It didn’t work. It led you to try to shake him awake. Nothing. You laid on him and still got nothing. You were starting to get frustrated with your failed attempts until you decided to hit him with your pillow.

“Dadddddyyy. It’s pool day.”

Namjoon muttered incoherent words as he started to wake. When he caught sight of you with a pillow in your hands, he immediately showered you with kisses.

“Good morning, bubba! Are you excited?”

“Yes, daddy! I can’ wait to play with the pool toys!” He frowned at that statement. “What about me?” He feigned hurt. “Of course! I can’t forget about you!” You said through giggles.

“Alright, darlin’. Here’s how today is going to work- we’re gonna freshen up, have a nice breakfast, pick up some last minute things, and we’ll get in the pool around twelve. How does that sound?” He beamed at you.

“Sounds good daddy!”

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

After following Namjoon’s morning plans, you two made it home a few minutes after twelve.

“Alright, bubba, I’m gonna start putting things out by the pool. Can you put on your swimmie by yourself?” He asked you. “Of course I can, daddy! I a big girl- not baby.” You replied giving bill a tooth rotting smile. Namjoon smiled at you and made his way to the backyard.

As you were putting on your swimsuit, excitement flooded your veins. You couldn’t stop dancing. “Lunaaaaaaa-“ you cooed at your dragon stuffie. “It’s pool day! Daddy is letting me play in the pool!” You started dancing in the middle of the room chanting “pool day, pool day, Luna it’s pool day” until bill came back in the house to see if you were done getting dressed. “Daddy! I’m ready!!”

“Bubba, before we go outside, daddy has to put up some paper work. Is that okay with you?”

“Bu- but daddy, I’m all ready” you pouted. “I know, it’ll only take a few minutes and we’ll be outside in no time.” He said while reaching for a Manila folder that was tucked away in your shared dresser. “I want outside now!” You yelled, Namjoon raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Watch your tone, little girl. I said it won’t take long.” He pointed at you.

You didn’t want to wait. Namjoon promised to take you outside as soon as you returned home. He never mentioned he had anything else to do. Why would he wait until it was pool time?

He placed the Manila folder on the dresser and walked into the bathroom and that is when an idea struck.

A very bad decision.

You waited until he settled himself in the bathroom to take the folder and run.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

You threw the contents of the folder everywhere with a smile on your face. You scanned the living room seeing what else you could put out of place. Your eyes landed on the basket of blankets near the entertainment system.

Those would look nice elsewhere.

You dumped the blankets in the center of the living room and were off to do more damage. You scanned the living room once more and decided to knock over the large plant in the corner sending soil all over the white carpet. Finally satisfied, you looked to the mantle to be met by Namjoon’s most prized possession.

His Las Vegas snow globe.

Before moving any further, you stopped. You knew it was a bad idea so why were you doing it? Eh, the world may never know.

You giggled and walked over to pick it up. As soon as you put it in your hands, you heard a cough from the other side of the living room. By the looks of his face, he was more than pissed.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. He rarely got upset with you.

“Bubba, put it down now, or it’s your ass.” Namjoon gritted as he inched closer to you. You just wanted to be outside as soon as possible. Nothing major.

“No daddy!” You bit back. “Is pool day! You’re wasting time with your stupid work! Play with me!” You walked backwards taking a notice of his small steps.

“Who said you were still having it? Look at the mess you created. Your pool day? Gone. Your privileges? You’re down to two left. Let’s not forget you’re knee deep in spankings.”

That momentarily snapped you out of the red you were seeing. Your pool day was gone. The day you were waiting for gone just like that because you were being impatient. You haven’t even made it outside yet. How dare he take something away from you when you were on your best behavior? It’s “his fault” you created this mess because he took to long.

“I hate you daddy! You n your work!! I hate you” you screamed. “You promise me pool day n you took it!”

Namjoon was stunned and also hurt. You never said that to him. He understood your frustration and that you didn’t mean it, but in no way did that give you a reason to be rude to him.

“Repeat that for me”

“I said I-” before you could finish, Namjoon swiftly walked over and snatched his snow globe lightly tossing on the couch. He grabbed your forearm as he dragged you to your shared bedroom.

Once you reached the bedroom, Namjoon threw you over his lap and immediately pulled down your swimsuit bottoms.

“Let me go you big meanie! Let me go!” You wailed in his arms trying to escape his strong grip. “I don’t want to hear it. You’ve done and said enough. Now be good and count.”

You were about to spit out another smart remark before you were cut off by a sharp sting on your bottom. “Why are you so quiet now? I should be hearing you counting, darling.”

“On- one daddy” you wailed. The force of the strike was enough to make you lose your breath.

He didn’t give you time to breathe after another sharp strike was delivered. “Two daddy!” Around seven taps in, Namjoon gave you a minute to catch your breath.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Deep breaths, darling. You’re doing so well for daddy. You have eight more to go. You can do it.”

After a few more hard taps, he pulled your pants up and sat you up on his lap. You couldn’t bear to look at him, so instead you put your face in your hands.

“Look at me” you shook your head ‘no’ while letting soft sobs escape your lips. “Baby, I need you to move your hands and look at me. Do you think you can do that for me?” Namjoon asked.

You nodded slowly and proceeded to put your hands in your lap not looking at Namjoon. He gently grabbed your chin and tilted it up so that you could face him.

“Do you understand why I had to give you spankies?” You nodded slowly. “Good job. Can you tell me why you got them?” He asked softly.

“Cause I not patient with daddy and made mess of hi- his work and living room” you sniffled.

“That’s my baby. I love you so much and I’m proud of you for knowing that your actions have consequences. Now I want you to help me clean the mess you made, put your day clothes back on, and go sit in the corner for 10 minutes.”

“Yes daddy”

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Mikey shut the door to his dressing room quietly, pressing his back against the door and taking a few deep breaths. He could still feel the adrenaline of being on stage pumping through his veins; it had been months since he'd done a show, years since the last time he'd toured, and even longer since he'd done so wearing that oh so familiar coat and badge. The last time he'd worn his parade outfit didn't feel like that long ago, and he died a little inside every time he remembered that he hadn't performed as a member of the black parade in seventeen years.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the time. Fifteen minutes was plenty of time to change before the second half of the show. He made quick work of unbuttoning his coat, carefully folding it and draping it over a chair. He removed the plain black t-shirt he wore underneath, followed by him kicking off his boots and starting to undo the clasp on his pants. He was just getting them over his hips when he heard the door swing open behind him, and he turned quickly, feeling his face burning as he fumbled to pull them back up. His panic only began to subside once he registered it was you who had invaded his privacy.

"You gave me a fright," he breathed as you shut the door behind yourself, and he loosened his grip on the waist of his pants.

"Hi to you too." You came over to him; his hands flew to your hips immediately, pulling you close.

He kissed you gently. "You having a good time?"

"Yeah," you rested your head on his shoulder. "You all did so well, babe. And you looked so good in your uniform."

"Did I, now?"

"You did. And being at the barrier meant I got a great view of your crotch every time you came up front."

He laughed. His heart was still racing, both from the adrenaline from the show and the intrusion. "I'm sure you loved that." He buried his face in your neck, pressing quick kisses to the skin there.

"Maybe."

He grinned. His kisses moved down your neck and across your shoulder, pulling the collar of your shirt to the side to gain access to more of the surface area of your skin. "Good," he murmured. "You look pretty good yourself, y'know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He pulled you closer to him, hips pressed together as he whispered into your ear, breath ghosting across your skin and making your hairs stand on end. "Y'know, we have a bit of time..."

"Fifteen minutes isn't that much time, babe."

"We'll make it work."

You raised a brow, but you didn't fight him, instead bringing your hands to rest on his biceps. You didn't protest as he pulled you in for a proper kiss, didn't argue as his hand came to cup your face, didn't complain as the kiss became hungrier and more desperate.

He began to rock his hips against yours, slinging his arms around your neck so the two of you were pressed chest to chest. His tongue darted into your mouth to deepen the kiss. With the way he was pressed against you, you could feel his arousal growing---the adrenaline from performing and from you walking in on him changing meant that it didn't take much to get him hard. Only a few minutes in and he was already a moaning mess.

He stepped forwards, manoeuvring the two of you to the chair he had abandoned his uniform on. Clumsy lips on yours, trebling hands pulling down your pants, sitting down on the chair with a thud and dragging you on top of him. You straddled his hips, the air filled with moans---thank god for soundproofing---as you ground against each other, hands running across each others bodies everywhere you could possibly reach.

He paused. "Do we use protection?"

"Do we even have any on us? Besides," you pointed out, "It's not like we never don't use it."

"Fair," he said before pulling you back in for another set of heated kisses. "You good?"

"Yeah," you spoke against his lips. You stood quickly, head spinning, to remove the final layer of clothing covering your hips---neither of you were bothered to remove your shirt for the short time you had---, watching as he untucked himself from his boxers and ran a hand down his length with shaky breath. He helped position you over his dick, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation before his grip on your hips loosened and you sank down on top of him.

He moaned your name as he felt your warmth around him. He gave you a second before his hips slowly began to move once more, and yours soon followed suit. Neither of you spoke; the room echoed with moans, wetness, the undeniable sound of skin against skin as you repeatedly lowered yourself back onto him.

His moans slowly morphed into whimpers, his movements more erratic, and you knew he was close. As you sped up, so did the frequency of the sounds coming from his lips. The fact that he had his face buried in the crook of your neck meant that the noises he made vibrated through your skin, and god, nothing was hotter. Every hurried breath of his had begun to be coupled with a whine, and it didn't take long before he came and filled you up. As you kept moving to help him ride out his high, he slipped his hand between your legs, and with a few strokes across your clit you followed with a cry, spasming around him.

The two of you sat there, panting, bodies slick with sweat. But it didn't last long. You both jumped as there was a sharp knock at the door, and Gerard's voice made its way to your ears.

"Mikes, you almost done? We have, like, one minute to be backstage."

Mikey swallowed, trying to hide the weakness in his voice. "Uh... yeah, Gee. I'll be there in a sec, I'm almost ready."

"Alright, man. Be quick."

The moment his brother's footsteps had disappeared down the hallway, he pulled out and the two of you scrambled to get dressed again. He used his previously discarded t-shirt to mop up his sweat before changing into fresh clothes.