#the text bubble has me fucking sobbing that is NOT something i want to hear out of context

[kennabeth]

#the text bubble has me fucking sobbing that is NOT something i want to hear out of context #anyway i remembered this and immediately trashed my bookcase for this scene #then collapsed to the floor bc i opened it straight to riza crying and alphonse trying to protect her #if it's already off the shelf maybe ill just have to read it... #says kenna #fma

[norrisleclercf1]

Hey, I saw that you were asking for Pierre ideas and I thought how it would be like Pierre dating Esteban sister

A/N: An actual French Civil War would break out in the paddock over this

"I'm sorry? You're dating who?" You cringe hearing the anger grow in your brothers voice, with each passing second. "Pierre, I'm dating Pierre." You whisper. You hang your head, not in shame, never in shame of dating Pierre. But, more so in the fact that Esteban refused to look at you.

"No, no you are not." Esteban growls, and you raise your head facing him. "Estie, I'm only telling you because you're my brother and I love you. He makes me happy," Esteban scuffs, refusing to hear anymore of this. "He's a snake, he'd trying to take my team from me, and now my sister? That fucker has no shame."

"Enough! Do you truly think Pierre would only date me to spite you? In case you forgot we all grew up together Esteban. Me, you, Charles, Pierre, we all grew up together." You didn't want to admit that his words stung, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Yes, I believe the only reason he's dating you is to fuck with me. And you're so naive and stupid to fall for it." Flinching you shake your head, and swallow hard. "I have to go," Your feets tangle in the chair and you trip rushing out of the room.

You hated how he could be so mean. That wasn't Esteban, he wasn't cruel, but he was hurt and tended to lash out at the cause of it. And right now, you were the cause of the hurt. Without thinking you walk into Pierre's drivers' room, earbuds in he doesn't hear or see you.

The burn of your eyes and throat bubble over as you move and climb into your boyfriend's lap. He tenses and goes to push you off but stops when he notices it's you and relaxes smiling as he pulls you closer. The first sound of your sob is muffled, pulling out his ear bud he notices your soft cries into his neck.

"Baby? What's wrong? Did something happen?" Pierre goes into protective boyfriend mode and pulls you so close you could be fused into one person. "Nothing, just hold me." You whimper, Pierre wants to push more but knows it would do nothing but harm in this moment.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what could possibly cause this, and maybe a nosy worker heard the argument and texted Pierre what was wrong. But he was going to remain silent on the matter.

He holds you close and rocks back adn forth slightly, that you've cried yourself to sleep in his arms. Moving carefully, he lays you down and coves you up with his jacket, melting when he sees you take a deep breath, nosing it. Pierre ruffles your hair and slides out of the driver's room.

Walking down the hall Pierre sighs and knocks gently on Esteban's door. Esteband yanks it open, his frown turning into a downright scowl. He opens his mouth but Pierre holds his hand up and levels him with a glare that silences him.

"Let me say this, you ever, and I mean ever make her cry over you again, I don't care that you're her brother, I'll beat the fuck out of you. Second, I love her more than anything, and the fact you think I'm such a scumbag I'd only be with her to fuck you over, makes you weak. Keep your fucking mouth shut about us, you'll smile and be polite and apologize to your sister. She's the best thing I've got in my life, and I'd pick her over Formula 1 without a thought. Be a fucking man, swallow that 2 inch pride of yours, and when she's ready, not you, but her, you'll apologize. Have a nice evening." Turning around he walks back down the hall and slides into his drivers room.

"Pear?" Your voice soft has him breathing out in relife and walks over, crouching down to be eye level with you. "I'm here, baby. Go back to sleep." You nod and reach out, grabbing his hand and pulling him in, letting him lie down on top of you, enjoying the pressure of his body. "I love you,"

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 x y/n #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 angst #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre imagine #pierre fluff #pierre gasly angst #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly

[heavenlyakin]

Starboy Pt 2: Pop star!Atsumu x Fem!Reader. 18+ only! 

cw: reader has red hair and hazel eyes, reader blushes, nipple play, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, atsumu calls reader “doll”, general smut warmings. Also not beta’d or edited too well, pls forgive any mistakes. 

wc: 4.6k

A/n: part one flopped, seemingly since there was no smut, but that won’t stop me from writing more of this AU bc it’s quite literally the most fun I’ve had writing in years. I hope those of you who truly enjoyed part 1 enjoy this too! Reminder “--” is a pov change and “-- – –” is a time skip! Alsoooooo happy early birthday atsumu ilysm <3 

Part 1

–

“I can’t do this. I want to go home,” your eyes fill with more tears, spilling down your cheeks and the sides of your face. Your body shakes, and you want him off you, away from you, and out of this fucking hotel room. 

Atsumu moves, sitting on the side of the bed, standing up, and pacing by the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” 

“No, I’m sorry-” you choke on a sob. 

What the fuck has come over you? 

You get off the bed, standing on the other side, facing Atsumu. He doesn’t look hurt, but there’s something on his face, something you just can’t read. 

“It’s okay,” he puts his hands up, “I’m not worried about me.” He steps closer to the bed, reaching his hand out but you don’t move. “We can get you home if that’s what you want.” 

You nod, knowing it’s what’s best. “Thank you,” you squeak out.

– 

Atsumu drops his hand to his side and walks around the bed and towards the table where he left his phone. He ignores all the other notifications, pulls up his manager’s number, and texts him to send for a car for you. He responds quickly, letting Atsumu know he’s working on it. 

“I’m getting a car to take you back home. Is that okay?” He asks you, laying his phone back down on the table. He places his hands behind him, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

“That’s fine,” you walk past him and into the bathroom, where all your stuff is. 

Atsumu has to stop himself from following you in there, wanting to give you space and not freak you out more. What happened? He didn’t think he misread your body language or the sounds you were making. 

A knock at the door gets him moving, and not towards you. 

“Do we need her to sign a NDA?” Jeff is all business when he opens the door. 

“Why don’t you fucking scream it, so she hears you. No! What the fuck?” Atsumu feels anger bubbling in his gut. 

Jeff lifts his hands in defense and shrugs. “Better safe than sorry,” he sighs, clearly just annoyed with this entire fiasco. He enters the room, looking around like he’s scanning it to see if anything is out of place. 

You come out of the bathroom, change out of your pajamas, and into jeans and a hoodie. “Sorry to cause you all this trouble,” you tell Jeff and he doesn’t smile. 

“It’s no trouble.” He tells you, but you can tell from his voice he doesn’t mean it, he’s just being polite. 

Atsumu wonders if you can hear it too. A few more words are exchanged but he doesn’t hear it. He feels distant like he’s hearing underwater. You start to leave with Jeff, and Atsumu stays in his place in the middle of the room, unable to walk you to the door. This is all so stupid, you shouldn’t be leaving, he should beg you to stay and forgive him for whatever he’s done. 

As you walk out the door, Atsumu can’t contain himself anymore. 

For the first time since the start of his career, he trashes a hotel room. 

– – – 

You lay your head back on the headrest of your office chair, looking up at the ceiling. You don’t turn the lights on in your office, the iridescent lighting always gives you migraines, so you stick to softer lighting with lamps around the office. It’s almost four o’clock, so close to when you’re able to leave and enjoy the rest of the day and then the weekend off to yourself. 

It’s been 2 months since you ran away from Atsumu’s hotel room, and you find yourself thinking about it more and more as time passes. You thought it would be the opposite, but here you are thinking about that night again as if you don’t have several reports to approve and travel to arrange for your coworkers. However, none of that matters when you have this intense guilt building in your chest.

The sound of an office door opening and then closing draws your attention to the hallway, forcing you to sit up and see who may be leaving. You never know when someone is going to pop in and ask something stupid or even worse: ask for a favor. Your boss waives at you as she walks past the door, and you know it’s time to start gathering your things to leave. 

You’re walking out the door when the clock strikes four, not caring that you clocked out a few minutes early. You need to finally talk about what happened. The drive home isn’t too bad, since the rush doesn’t start until about another hour. Your roommate’s car is in its usual spot when you arrive, and you’re glad she’s home. 

“Hey!” Clara, your roommate, greets you at the door. “I brought home pizza!” 

You smile, dropping your purse and work bag on the floor by the shoe rack. You’ll clean it up later. She already has drinks and plates with napkins on the coffee table beside the massive pizza box. She ordered from the one place in town that sells pizza that looks like it straight from a 90s sitcom. 

“Thank god, because you’re gonna want it after I tell you what I have to tell you.” You sigh, sitting on the couch, opening the pizza box, and loading your plate with a slice. 

“Work gossip?” Clara wiggles her eyebrows and you laugh, but shake your head no. 

“So, you already know that I met Atsumu Miya and his brother after the shows in LA, right?” 

She nods, her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, and you didn’t even Facetime me so I could freak out with you.” 

You laugh, shoving her gently and she smacks your arm away. “Okay stop it!” You say between giggles after you stop hitting each other. “But, I didn’t tell you where I was the weekend I was MIA until like three a.m. a few months ago.” 

“How do these two things relate?” She asks, taking a bite of her pizza slice. 

“Well,” you take a breath, then exhale loudly. “I was with Atsumu.”

“Shut up,” Clara rolls her eyes. “How is that even… HE WAS IN PITTSBURGH THAT WEEKEND,” she interrupts herself to yell. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “He came here actually, for just a few minutes. Saw my stupid poster on the wall and everything.” 

“And you didn’t wake me up?! —-- you’re so selfish!!” This is exactly how you expected her to react. “Why are you telling me now?” 

“So, here it goes…” you tell her the story from the night you met him in the gas station, to the concert, to having his team send you home. You don't skip out on any details, including kissing, cuddling, and almost sleeping with him. 

“Why did you leave?!” She all but yells at you. 

“I was scared!” You admit, and for the first time, you realize that was truly it. You were scared of being intimate with him and that being it for you and him. “Clara, I was so scared he’d never talk to me again. And now, I’m pretty sure he never will.” 

She drops her pizza on her plate, puts it down on the table, and wipes her hands with the napkin. “Come here,” she opens her arms and you hug her. 

Clara has been your best friend and roommate for five years now, going through some of the hardest times of your life with you, and overall being a better friend than you ever could ask for. So, hugging her feels like home most of the time, and right now it’s like being a kid and needing your mother to hug you to make it better. 

“You’re way too wonderful to be worried about something like that…” she tells you letting you go and you nod. “If he’d done that, I would have called him out on Twitter anyway…: 

“Oh shut up,” you laugh and toss a throw pillow at her. “Thank you for listening.” 

She catches the pillow and slaps you with it. “Oh, we’re not done here… I have so many questions.” She drills into you then. She asks you about how you brought him home, how you fell, how you did this and that, and everything you can imagine. 

After an hour you’re drained and the pizza is cold. “Okay, I think that covers it all,” you laugh shaking your head when she goes to ask another question. 

“Well, honestly honey, if he’s half the guy we think he is he won’t let your memory of him be you running away.” She tells you, cleaning up the table. You help her and follow her into the kitchen. 

“I don’t know, that’s a lot to ask. After all, I’m sure he’s moved on to some other fan now.” You both know about the rumors of all the flings he had when he first toured the U.S. a few years ago. Why would he have changed with growing fame? 

“He didn’t make you sign a NDA, did he?” She asks, running dishwater and looking over to you at the trashcan dumping the pizza crusts you didn’t eat. 

“No, he didn’t.” You answer, handing her the plates and she dunks them in the dishwater, starting to scrub it after. “Although, I heard his manager ask if he wanted me to. Atsumu said no.” 

“Then maybe he didn’t think of you as just another fan. I mean, why would he have gone through that and not had to sign an NDA, like honestly…” she furrows her brows as she thinks, “it’s kind of embarrassing for him.” 

“Shut up! You’re making me feel worse now!” You whine, drying off the dish she hands you. “It’s not that I didn’t want to sleep with him…” 

“I know,” she laughs, “but I don’t know. Something just doesn’t seem finished here.” 

– 

Atsumu has three more shows, then the tour is over. 3 months felt like a lifetime, but none of it has felt the same since that night in Pittsburgh. Everything in him is telling him to let it go, let you go, but he can’t. He’s had your phone number since that night, his manager passing it on to him after you left. 

Why did you leave your number while you were running away from him? 

The scene has played in his head over and over, and he’s certain he didn’t do anything intentionally that could have hurt you. Everything he did was following your lead, even when you asked him to stop. He has wondered if you heard his manager’s comments about the NDA and perhaps that’s why you left it. 

He’s been too worried to just text you, especially now that it’s been months. He can’t just call you, can he? 

He draws another squiggly line next to the lyrics on his notepad, looking up into the studio and seeing his band still working on the music from earlier. He finished recording vocals and just needs to wait for them to finish up. This new album came to him in the last few weeks, surprising not only him but the band as well since he’d intended on taking a short hiatus to relax for a year before going back to writing and performing. 

“Do we have time for one more?” Atsumu asks, finishing the last line of the song he’s been fooling with for a few weeks. “I think I have this one figured out.” 

– – – 

Your phone dings and you look over irritated you didn’t set it to silent when you got to work. It’s nearly lunchtime, so you pick it up to check it. No one is going to care if they find you on your phone just for a few minutes. 

New single, “I’m Not Sorry” is out this Friday! 

Atsumu’s tweet notifications are still on. 

You click the link, taking you to the Spotify page, and look at the new cover art for the single. You can’t believe what you’re seeing as you look at it. You’re absolutely sure that this picture of him is with the Pittsburgh skyline. You close the app and go to Instagram, looking to see if he’s posted the single cover there. 

He has. 

You’re able to zoom in on the photo now, and you’re absolutely sure that’s where the picture was taken. It’s evening in the picture and you wonder if it was the night after you left. Atsumu had one more show and definitely had time for promotional photos since you weren’t in the way. 

You send the Instagram post to Clara, asking her if she thinks it’s Pittsburgh too. She reads it instantly, sending a zillion emojis with words strung between them confirming your suspicions. You lock your phone and consider what you can do. 

He has your number, but you don’t have his. You could tweet him, but what would that do with the hundreds of thousands of other fans doing the same? Instagram might be better, but you’re sure he doesn’t check his DM’s there either. But… what harm could a comment do? 

You unlock your phone, go to the post, comment a winky face emoji under the post, and close the app. You wash your hands of it after that, if he’s online enough to see it and it’s not just his PR team running the account, then maybe he’ll see it. 

The rest of your day, you ignore your phone. 

– 

“This has to be her,” Atsumu says, showing the stand-in guitarist your profile on Instagram. It’s private, but the profile photo is unmistakably you. “Right?” 

“Dude,” the guitarist, whose name is escaping him, sighs. “I’ve heard bits and pieces of this story and I gotta tell ya, I don’t think this is worth the heartache.” 

“Oh, what do you know?” Atsumu rolls his eyes and hits follow on the profile. 

– 

“-----!” Your name is screamed before the door to your apartment is even open. Clara runs in, looking frantic. 

“What’s wrong?” You jump up from the couch. 

“You’re not going to believe who I found outside.” You finally walk to where you can see her, and the tall blonde behind her stuns you. 

“Atsumu,” you gasp. 

“-----, can we talk?” He asks, his face soft and his eyes focused on you and not your roommate who can’t seem to stand still in front of him. 

“Yeah, come on in.” You tell him and he slips off his shoes, following you to your bedroom. 

“You took my poster down,” he says before he’s past the doorway. 

“Oh,” you shut the door behind him, “I felt weird staring at you after everything… It’s in Clara’s room now.” 

“What happened?” Atsumu asks, turning to face you. 

While you know he’s not trying to intimidate you, you feel small standing in front of him, backed up against your bedroom door. 

“Sit down, and we’ll talk.” You point to the bed, unkept this time since you were running late this morning and didn’t have time to make it. 

He sits, pulling the duvet over his lap, making you smile. You sit beside him, careful not to get too close in case he’s upset with you and doesn’t want to touch you. 

“I’m really sorry.” You start, “I shouldn’t have run off.” 

“I’m not sorry. I just…” he stumbles for a moment, “I need to know what I did wrong.” 

His eyes are full of hurt and you feel like a shell of a person for doing that to him. But, how do you tell him how you feel without hurting his feelings? 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, you know,” you blush, “sleep with you.” He doesn’t speak, content to just listen. You take a deep breath, then decide to tell him. “I just got scared that that’s as close to you as I’ll ever be.” 

He reaches out his hand, laying it on your hands on your lap. “Why would that be it?” 

“Atsumu, why wouldn’t it be? You’re busy and I belong here. You have your choice of anyone in the world, so why would one night with me mean anything?” You sound harsher than you intend, but it’s too late to take it back. You look down at your hands, idly picking at one of your hangnails. 

“I don’t want you for one night, —--!” He takes his hand back, running it through his hair. “I have feelings for you that even I don’t understand, but I know I need more than just one night with you.” 

You look up at him, tears forming in your eyes. “Why should I believe that?” 

“I don’t know,” he takes your hands in his, stopping your picking. “I just know we’d be perfect together.” 

“Atsu-” he interrupts you with his lips, pressing against yours with such strong ferocity you fall back against your pillows, pulling him with you. 

He pulls away, his eyes wild with desire and need. “If you want me to stop, I will.” He kisses your neck and you stifle your moan, way too aware that your roommate very well could be outside your door listening in. 

“Atsumu, Clara is home…” you whine as his teeth bite into your sensitive skin. 

“I gave her a signed record with the new single on it and asked her to leave us alone…” he smiles, a laugh on his breath. “She’s either in her room or she left to go show it to your other friends. That’s what she said she’d do anyway.” 

“Can I at least check?” You ask, shaking your head and laughing. 

He nods and you get off the bed from under him. The hallway is empty and her door is closed. A quick listen through the door tells you she’s either being suspiciously quiet or she left. 

“All clear,” you announce coming back in the room. 

Atsumu pulls you onto the bed, this time on top of him. He holds your face as he kisses you, like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he’s not holding you. His tongue explores your mouth and you can’t help but groan into him. Through your sweats you can feel how hard he is under his pants, pushing against your cunt as you grind on him. 

“If you keep that up, we won’t get to have too much fun.” He warns, breaking away from your mouth. 

His lips glisten with yours and his spit, making you feel something carnal in your gut. You mumble a quick sorry and kiss him again. Your fingers lace in his hair, tugging whenever he bites at your bottom lip. You’re flipped over onto your back before you realize it’s happening. Atsumu hovers over you, looking at you like you’re a meal and he hasn’t eaten in days. 

“I’m serious, tell me to stop if this isn’t what you want.” His voice is so soft it makes you want to whimper. 

“I want you,” you tell him and he smiles. 

He kisses you again, his lips warm and soft against yours. He’s gentle as he pushes your t-shirt up and over your head, revealing your nude bra to him. If you’d known this would happen, you might have changed into something a little more alluring, but this is your reality now. 

His hand cups your right breast through the bra, a muffled moan leaving his throat. He spreads your thighs with his knee. You want to grind down onto his knee but he lifts your torso up to unclasp your bra, so you’re unable to. It falls off your arms and breasts and Atsumu tosses it somewhere behind him. 

His lips wrap around your left nipple, his hand still massaging your right breast. You arch your back, moaning and closing your eyes. Atsumu’s tongue is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Have you ever had this much pleasure from just your nipples before? You shouldn’t already be breathing this heavily, but you’re too aroused to stop now. 

“‘Tsumu,” you whimper and you feel him smile against your breast. 

“Tell me what you want baby,” he looks up at you, twirling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Between my thighs, need you there,” your face heats with the embarrassment of asking him so clearly, but you can't help it. 

Atsumu kisses both your nipples, then down to your navel. His tongue drags across your skin and you can’t stay still. You writhe below him, loving the sensation of his tongue on your body and his hands gripping your hips to try and hold you still. His fingers loop into your sweatpants, pulling them down over your legs and off your body, your panties going with them. 

Once they’re off the bed and you’re completely bare in front of him, you realize how much clothing he has on. His pants, hoodie, and presumably shirt under it are still attached to him. 

“Take your clothes off or I’m going to rip them off myself.” You tell him and he grins wildly. 

“I’d love to see you try.” He laughs, sitting up on his knees and ridding himself of his hoodie, and the shirt underneath. 

You sit up and help him with his belt. He kisses you as you unbutton his pants, slipping your hand in and grabbing his cock through his boxers. He moans as you wrap your fingers around it, slowly stroking him and looking up at him through your lashes. 

“-----,” he moans, “stop that or else.” 

“Or else what?” You smile as sweetly as you can, gripping him tighter and using your other hand to push his pants off his waist and thighs. 

“I’m going to fuck you until you’re crying.” He grabs your face, making you look at him straight on. “But, I planned on doing that anyway.” 

You feel your stomach do flips and smile, releasing his cock and letting him take the remainder of his clothes off. He settles back overtop of you, his fingers trailing around your pubic hair where it meets your lower stomach. He kisses you as his fingers slide between your cunt, and he moans. 

“This wet?” He asks against your lips. “You must really want me, huh?” 

This side of Atsumu is fascinating and hot. You whimper in response and he slips two fingers into you. You gasp as they slowly pump in and out, his lips working on that sweet spot on your neck. His fingers are longer than you expected, filling you up so much more than you thought possible. 

His lips trail down your body again and you feel a wave of pleasure through your core as his tongue drags across your clit. You whine as he sucks lightly. Between his tongue and fingers, you’re not sure what you like more. The combination of them both is overwhelming and more than you could ever wish for. 

You dig your nails into the sheets, moaning as he continues to lap at your cunt. Your eyes open and close every few seconds, taking in images of him between your thighs looking happier than he does when thousands of fans are screaming for him. Your stomach tightens and you feel that familiar knot forming, the tension threatening to break you. 

“Atsumu,” you whine, “gonna cum.” 

He hums against your cunt, and you can’t hold back anymore. You cum over his fingers and mouth. He continues to fuck you with his fingers through your climax and you go limp against the bed, panting with every breath. He finally unlatches from you, bringing his fingers to your mouth. 

“Open up,” he smirks and you do. 

He slips his fingers in your mouth and you suck on them as he watches. Your tongue wraps around them, slowly sucking all your cum from his fingers. He watches you, his other hand stroking his cock as you suck on his fingers. He moans, closing his eyes, but only for a second. They’re open again and focused on you a moment later. 

“Fuck,” his voice is deeper now, sensual. 

You pop his fingers out of your mouth, leaning forward and kissing his chest. He grabs you by your hair, tugging your head back, tilting you to look up at him. 

“Now, now,” he smiles, his eyes wild, “lay down. I’m not done with you yet.” 

You scoot back, laying down against the pillows, spreading your legs for him. He crawls between them, kissing your stomach, up between your breasts, and then your lips. He kisses you several more times, his cock pressed against your stomach, and you swear you can feel him throbbing. 

“Gonna make it?” You ask, a giggle following. 

“Shut up,” he chuckles, sitting up on his knees and bringing your legs over his shoulders. 

He settles between them, your thighs pressed against his body. He lifts your hips, angling you towards him. He pushes his cock against your entrance, pausing and looking at you, his eyes desperate for reassurance. 

You nod. 

He’s slow, his cock pushing inside you and stretching you bit by bit. You close your eyes, feeling the girth and the sting that comes with it. You squeeze the bedsheets, and Atsumu pushes all the way into your cunt, his cock fully sheathed in you. Your thighs tremble and you open your eyes, noticing that Atsumu looks like he’s in complete bliss. 

You smile, letting out a whimper as you do. He opens his eyes, a smile creeping on his face to match yours. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he starts to pull out of you, slowly beginning to thrust, holding your thighs for leverage. 

“So fucking tight,” he moans, closing his eyes again and thrusting into you harder. 

You whine, finally past the burning and feeling the pleasure you’ve only dreamt about. Each thrust takes you higher, closer to the edge. His thrusts are hard, but meticulous, every thrust hitting that spot only you thought you could reach when you’ve used toys. 

“Atsumu,” you whimper, your thighs shaking again. 

“What is it, doll?” He smirks, stalling and pushing closer to you, your legs pressing against your body. 

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he goes deeper, your body seemingly bending at his will. 

“I could record your little whimpers, ya know. Put it in a song and let the world hear how good I make you feel,” he whispers, his lips against your ear, thrusting deeper into you. 

Your face warms and that feeling of being pushed over the edge returns. 

“It wouldn’t be the first song you inspire, and definitely not the last.” He laughs, kissing your neck and fucking into you harder. 

Even with the cheesy lines, you feel yourself falling for them. He could do nothing wrong now, and your body craves more of him if that’s even possible. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you worry you’ll break the skin, but you can’t help it. 

“Atsumu! Gonna!” You can’t tell him the rest before you’re clenching around his cock. 

This time it feels like waves throughout your body. Your eyes squeeze shut, your toes curl, and your body goes limp beneath Atsumu. He uses this chance to use your malleable body to his advantage. He moves your legs off his chest and shoulders, spreading them and pressing against you. 

His tongue swipes against yours as he fills you up, his cock throbbing inside you. You can already feel the cum running down your ass from your abused cunt. You have to break away from his lips to breathe, but his teeth catch your bottom lip. He playfully bites at it and you laugh. 

“Holy-” 

“Shit,” he finishes for you. 

He presses his damp forehead against yours, his breathing still heavy. His body is warm and weighted against you, making you feel small. You wrap your arms around him, holding him as close to you as possible. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he tells you but you shake your head. 

“This won’t last forever.” 

“It will for as long as you want.”

#atsumu miya smut #miya atsumu smut #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq smut #hq x reader

[kpop---scenarios]

Obsession (2)

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Warning: Stalking, Threatening, Launguage

Word Count: 3.8k

Part One

It had been a little over a week since you and Chanyeol fucked, and it had been radio silence. You had hoped he would have texted you by now, but you didn't want to come across as that needy girl. So you kept it cool, until you couldn't keep that cool any longer.

“Oh my god!” Jennie yells. “Did you hear the latest news?” She asks, rolling her eyes. You had been invited for a night out at Baekhyun's apartment with everyone in your new friends group. You had partially expected Chanyeol to have been there and when he wasn't you were disappointed. You liked him and wanted you get to know him more, you also wouldn't have minded fucking around with him again.

“What!?” Lisa asks. Everyone was intently staring at Jennie, impatiently waiting to hear what she had to say.

“A little birdy told me that Chanyeol and Maya got back together.” She says, trying to stifle a giggle. Every single person that sat around Baekhyun's living room table groaned so loudly. Sehun, Baekhyun and Jisoo started fake sobbing, Jongin threw his head back in frustration, Lisa started to pretend to gag, while Kyungsoo began muttering about how he had to go back to avoiding Chanyeol.

You, on the other hand, sat there in complete shock. He had a girlfriend? How long has this been going on?

“What's wrong with her?” You ask, glancing at the dramatic group around the table.

“Let's just say, Maya is..” Baekhyun pauses.

“Insufferable.” Kyungsoo sighs.

“Stuck up.” Jisoo adds.

“Fucking annoying.” Lisa says.

“She's like the worst possible human in the world.” Jongin says. “I don't know how he puts up with her.”

You nod your head, you didn't have anything else to say. You felt hurt and confused. Your hands played with the full shot glass that sat in front of you. Just as Sehun was about to say something, the front door opens and in walks Chanyeol with a big smile on his face.

“Hey guys, what are we talking about?” He asks, plopping down on the floor, across the table from where you and Jongin sat. You felt the anger bubble up inside of you, and even though you had planned on saying nothing, words came out of your mouth.

“Oh, just talking about how you have a girlfriend.” You say, looking up at Chanyeol, staring him in the eyes. They go wide, as if he's a deer in headlights.

“Oh, uh.” He chuckles. “Yeah, surprise, Maya and I got back together.” He says, looking away from you to avoid eye contact. You continued to stare at him, you hoped he could feel your stare burning into him.

“But why?” Baekhyun asks. “Why would you do that?”

“What's wrong with her?” Chanyeol laughs.

You were uncomfortable. You were sad, mad, annoyed. Every emotion was felt right at this moment, and it was like Jongin could sense it. He moved closer to you, putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him. He turns his head to whisper in your ear. “You okay?” He asks. You continued to look at Chanyeol who was now eyeing up you and Jongin, trying to process why his arm was around you.

“Uh huh.” You whisper back, breaking off the eye contact with Chanyeol. You gave Jongin a small half smile, hoping he would stop questioning you but that didn’t work. For the next 45 minutes, every few minutes you would catch Jongin looking at you, you could tell that he was questioning how quiet you were, wondering why and why you wouldn't tell him. You’d finally had enough social interaction for the night and decided to go.

“I’m going to head out right away.” you announce. “Just using the bathroom first.” you finish, walking towards the bathroom. You stepped outside to see Chanyeol standing outside the bathroom door, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

“You’re ignoring me.” he says, looking over at you.

“You have a girlfriend.” you say back. “Were you together..when..” you pause.

“No!” he exclaims. “No.. I, uh, met up with her afterwards. That's who had texted me..and we got back together that night.” he finishes. You can feel the tears threatening to fall. You didn’t want to cry over him, it totally wasn't worth it.

“Great, I'm happy for you.” you say, walking away from him. You grab your jacket, and again, Chanyeol stands in front of you.

“Let me walk you home.” he says, grabbing his jacket.

“Nah man, you stay. I already told her I would take her. Don’t worry, I'll make sure she’s safe.” Jongin says, coming up behind you. He slides his arm around your waist, pulling you towards the door. You were grateful for Jongin, but you really hoped he wasn’t getting the wrong idea. The two of you chatted about anything and everything on your walk, he made you laugh - hard. You continued to laugh all the way to your front door. Unlocking your door, you look at Jongin.

“Thank you.” you smile. “Really.”

“Anytime, Y/N. and look..” he pauses. “I don’t know what's going on between you and Chanyeol, but just know you deserve more.” he finishes, flashing a dazzling smile before starting to walk away.

“Wait!” You call out. He turns around. “You know?” you ask him.

“I had a feeling,” he says. “Good night.” he finishes, walking away. You walk into your apartment, feeling exhausted. You didn't realize how much of a toll this night had taken on you until you laid in your bed. You hadn't even taken your clothes off, but you didn’t have the energy any longer, swiftly falling asleep.

You woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed. As you crawled out of your bed you heard a loud banging at your door. Looking out the peephole, you didn't see anyone there, so you opened up your door, only to see a dozen purple tulips sitting outside your door. A smile spreads across your face as you look for a note.

Miss me yet?

Your smile faded just as fast as it had appeared. You stared at the note, a very uneasy feeling pulsing through your body. You brought the flowers inside, took a deep breath before deciding what you were going to do. You walked into your kitchen, dumping the flowers and the note into the garbage can before heading back to your bed. You'd already had enough for today. All day, you lounged around, your phone was off, you ate and watched shitty movies. You cried, you laughed, you slept. It was the perfect day before classes on Monday, you were dreading them already. You were not taking anything easy, and your entire body was a ball of stress.

Monday you had minimal interaction with anyone, you went to classes, had lunch with the group, went home to study and work on papers and it was the exact same on Tuesday. When Wednesday rolled around, you were so excited. The week was almost done, not to mention the group had decided to do a Friday Friend Dinner every other Friday, and this week it was on. Drinks and good food, you couldn't wait. Kyungsoo was an amazing cook, you often craved his food.

You were walking to your class, when out of nowhere you're yanked to the side. You looked over only to see Mark standing there with a smile on his face.

“Hi baby.” He says, leaning in closely. You try to back up, but you back straight into a pillar. “Did you like the flowers I sent you?” He smiles, moving closer. “I've been waiting all week for you to thank me for them. It hurts me that you haven't done that yet, Y/N.” He finishes, his smile dropping.

“Oh!” You say, forcing a smile. You were trying so hard to not show him any fear even though it was radiating through your entire body. “I didn't realize it was you. There was no name on it. They're so beautiful, Mark, thank you.” You smile. You needed him to calm down and let you go without an issue. You watch his facial expressions, he was getting angrier.

“Who else would they have been from?” He snaps. “Are you seeing someone else?”

You didn't know what to say. He stares at you as the panic sets in. Your body is trembling as he gets closer. You let your instincts take over, pushing him away from you.

“Leave me alone.” You scream. He rushes back towards you, slapping his hand over your mouth, stopping you from screaming anymore. Before you can react, Mark is pulled off of you, thrown down to pavement. You look over to see Chanyeol standing there, huffing as he stares down at Mark.

“Didn't I tell you to keep your fucking hands to yourself?” Chanyeol yells. He goes to you, grabbing your hand to pull you away. He takes you out into the open, and you see a blonde girl standing there with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

“Chanyeol.” You breathe. “Thank you.”

He looks at you concerned. “Has he been bothering you alot?” He asks.

“No, no. He sent me flowers on Sunday, with a note but no name attached. I guess he was mad that I didn't thank him.” You explain. “I'm sure he's gotten the message now.” You half smile. You were trying to be okay but you weren't. Your body shook, you felt like you were still in shock. You looked over at the girl who looked even more unimpressed with you.

“Hi.” You smile, holding out your hand. “I'm Y/N.” You say.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. You retracted your hand feeling uncomfortable now. She looks at Chanyeol with a pout. “You let go of my hand to help her, Channie.” She says. “I'm so sad now.”

Chanyeol sighs. “I'm sorry Maya, do you want me to buy you something?” He asks. She perks up, grabbing his hand to pull him away, spewing on about some purse she wanted.

You already hated her.

Thursday, you didn't go to your classes. You stayed curled up in bed, answering the calls from Lisa, Jennie, Jisoo, Baekhyun, Jongin and even Kyungsoo, asking you if you were okay and what they could do for you. You were eternally grateful for all of them and how much they cared for you. They had asked you if you wanted to postpone your friend's dinner, but you didn't want to. It was something that you desperately needed to try and take your mind off your Mark situation.

Friday comes, and starts off better. You went to your classes that day. It wasn't until you looked at your phone, did your heart sink, and your anxiety flared up.

[From Unknown - 8:45am] I like your outfit today. You look so cute.

[From Unknown - 8:49am] I hope your first class goes well. I miss you.

You slipped your phone in your pocket, trying to focus on your lecture. Your phone doesn't stop vibrating the entire time you were in your hour and a half class. After it ends, you pull out your phone to read some of them.

[From Unknown - 9:07am] Please text me back.

[From Unknown - 9:10am] it's really not nice to ignore someone.

[From Unknown - 9:17am] Please, baby.

You deleted all the messages, only reading a few of them. You didn't want to deal with this. Maybe eventually he would get the hint. And he did, only until the afternoon.

[From Unknown - 2:47pm] I miss your smile. You looked so happy taking in the warm sun as you were walking.

[From Unknown - 2:52pm] Did you take a picture of the sky for your IG? I can't wait for you to post it.

You ignored them again, putting your phone into your pocket as you headed to your last class of the day. The hour went by quickly, with no excessive buzzing coming from your pocket. You were relieved but that didn't last long. As you made your way to Kyungsoo's apartment, the texts continued, and got progressively worse.

[From Unknown - 4:59pm] I don't fucking appreciate this.

[From Unknown - 5:04pm] You are being a goddamn cunt right now, Y/N.

[From Unknown - 5:07pm] ANSWER ME!!

[From Unknown - 5:11pm] I'm sorry, baby. I just miss you so much. Please answer me.

You sigh as you knock on the door of Kyungsoo's apartment, finishing reading the last message.

“Hey.” Kyungsoo smiles, opening the door. You walk into the most delightful smells, immediately causing you to forget about the texts. “You can join the others in the living room.” He says, heading back to the kitchen. You take your coat off, following the sound of laughter into the living room.

“Y/N.” Everyone yells, all happy to see you. You say hi to everyone, looking at Jongin, who mouths “sorry.” To you before you see Chanyeol with his arm around Maya on the couch. You wanted to roll your eyes so fucking badly. But your phone began to vibrate.

[From Unknown - 5:27pm] I can't wait to pin you down, kissing your body all over.

[From Unknown - 5:33pm] I'm going to make you cum so many times from my fingers when I finally get you in my bed. Do you want that baby?

You can feel the tears starting. Why won't he stop?

You press the phone button to call and scream at him but it won't connect. “This number is no longer in service.”

Maybe he deactivated it.

[From Unknown - 5:46pm] I hope you're not fucking Chanyeol or Jongin baby. I'll have to punish you for that.

[From Unknown - 5:54pm] Would you like that baby? I'm going to tie you up and punish you. I don't like being ignored.

[From Unknown - 5:56pm] Y/N. ANSWER ME.

[From Unknown - 5:59pm] I will fucking kill you if you don't answer me.”

You couldn't take it anymore. The tears fell as Kyungsoo walked into the living room.

“Y/N?” He asks, glancing around at everyone else. You completely break down, sobbing into your knees.

“Hey, what's going on doll?” Lisa asks, moving towards you. You slide your unlocked phone towards her, allowing her to read the messages as you sniffle.

“What the fuck.” She gasps.

“What? What do they say?” Everyone asks.

“Can I read them out?” Jongin asks you. You hide your face but nod your head. You didn't want to deal with this shit alone.

“Holy shit. He talks about what she's wearing today and gets mad at her for not responding.” He pauses. “I can't wait to pin you down, kissing all over your body.” He reads out. You look up, every single person there was pissed beyond measure. Except for Maya, who rolled her eyes at every text.

“Y/N answer me.. I will fucking kill you if you don't answer me.” He finishes in a whisper.

No one says a thing. Lisa, Jennie and Jisoo hug you tightly until Baekhyun pipes up. “Who wants to go hunt this mother fucker down and make him wish he never met our precious Y/N?” He says.

Everyone jumps up agreeing, including Chanyeol. Maya scoffs loudly at him

“What the fuck, Chanyeol?” She yells.

“Here we go.” Baekhyun laughs.

“You're going to protect her again? What about me? I actually matter.” She says, pouting again.

“Y/N matters too.” Chanyeol tells her. “She's important to me. As are all my friends.” He says.

“So I'm not as important as this fucking thing whose scared of a few little texts? Like grow up.” She yells at you.

“Who are you calling a thing, bitch?” Lisa snaps, standing up.

“Miss fucking cry baby over there.” Maya yells.

“Maya!” Chanyeol yells, his voice booming through the house. “Shut the fuck up.” He snaps. He glares at her, she tries to stand tall but she cowers under him. “Get your stuff. We're leaving.” He yells. “NOW.” He booms. She rushes out of the room without a word. Chanyeol mutters a “sorry” towards the group before slamming the door behind him.

The group sits in silence.

“Has anyone EVER heard Chanyeol yell that loud!?” Baekhyun asks, jumping up onto the couch. “I mean sure he's loud during game nights but holy shit.”

“literally never.” Jisoo says, her eyes still wide.

Kyungsoo looks at you. “Have you gone to the cops?” He asks.

“Yeah, you really should.” Lisa and Jennie urge.

“I have.” You sniffle. “They can't do anything for me until he physically hurts me.” You cry. “Apparently covering my mouth to stop me from screaming isn't enough.”

“That's messed up.” Kyungsoo sighs. “You shouldn't be alone. You need to stay with someone.”

“She can stay with me.” Chanyeol announces, walking into the living room.

“What happened?” Baekhyun asks.

“I ended things. For good.” Chanyeol says to everyone, before turning to look at you. “Y/N I am so sorry for the way she spoke to you. That was uncalled for and not fair.” He whispers with his head down. “You didn't deserve that.”

“Thank you.” You sniffle. “You didn't have to break up with her though.”

Baekhyun laughs out loudly, making everyone else laugh along.

“Yeah I did. It was time. I can't be with someone like that, I wasn't really into it anyways.”

Your phone buzzes again on the table.

[From Unknown - 7:08pm] I'm so sorry baby, please forgive me. Just talk to me.

Chanyeol picks up your phone, reading the message. He holds out his hand for you to pull you up. “We're going to go to Y/N's apartment and grab her things. I'll let you all know when we've made it safely back to my place.” He says. You go around the group giving everyone a hug while saying thank you to them. You didn't know what you would do without such great friends. you and Chanyeol didn't say much on the drive to your apartment. You were exhausted and just wanted to rest but you knew it wasn't going to come easily tonight. You and chanyeol head up to your front door, you unlock the door, letting him in first before you lock it back up behind you. You felt too paranoid to leave anything to chance. Chanyeol chuckles as he walks towards the table, patting it with the palm of his hand.

“This is a solid table.” He smirks. You roll your eyes at him, heading into your bedroom. quickly you find a bag, shoving your clothes into it, grabbing everything you can think of right now that you would need. You grabbed your charger and your laptop, and just as you thought you had everything, you heard a loud, rapid banging on your front door. You freeze. Chanyeol puts his finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. He waves you back into the room, mouthing for you to hide. Quietly, he creeps up to the door as the banging continues. He looks out the peephole, all he can see is black hair.

“Yes?” He says, his voice loud and deep.

“Where's Y/N?” He asks. You can hear Mark's voice.

“She's not here. You need to leave.” Chanyeol announces. “She's not interested in you. You need to move on.”

“Hah. I need to move on? She and I are meant to be together. You tell her I'll see her soon.” Mark yells, leaving Chanyeol's view. He opens the door slightly, making sure that Mark is actually gone. Chanyeol calls you out of the room, tears streaming down your face. He wraps his arm around you, taking you out of your apartment, heading for his car. You were terrified that Mark was going to be out there waiting for you. But he wasn't. Chanyeol opened the car door for you, you got in, placing your bag on the floor.

The drive is silent. It was late, you were drained. Walking up to Chanyeol's apartment, he unlocks the door, letting you go in first. It's bigger than you thought it would be. It was decorated very minimally, he had furniture around but not much else.

“It's very nice.” You smile.

“I'm still working on getting more things for it.” He laughs. He takes you to his bedroom. “You can sleep here. I'm going to take the couch.” He says.

“Chanyeol.” You sigh. “It's enough that you're letting me stay here, I can't take your bed too.”

He laughs. “You can. And you will. Get some rest okay? I'm right out there if you need.” He gives you a hub before grabbing his pj's and going into the bathroom. He comes out in a shirt and pj pants, heading for the living room. You dig through your bag, finding your shorts and a tank top to sleep in. You change and crawl into his bed. It smells so good. It smells like him. Sleep came to you easier than you thought, but it didn't last long.

You woke up breathing heavily, sweating and a little confused. You had dreamt that Mark had taken you captive and you were really shaken up over it. You crawled out of bed, heading to the living room.

Chanyeol laid on the couch, scrolling on his phone until he noticed you. He sits up quickly. “What's wrong?” he asks, standing up. He was no longer wearing a shirt.

Holy shit, you'd forgotten how ripped he was.

“it was.. a dream.” you start. “Mark.. he had..uh, kidnapped me.”

Chanyeol wraps you in his arms, in a tight and comforting hug. You hold onto him as tightly as you can, you feel so safe with him.

“Can you please sleep in the bed with me? I don't want to be alone.” You whisper.

He lets go of you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom. You both crawl into the bed, getting comfy. Chanyeol rubs your arm and shoulder as your back faces him. You quickly fall asleep, feeling more comfortable than you've been in a while. You wished the feeling of peace would last, unfortunately you knew it wouldn't.

You woke up in the morning with Chanyeol wrapped around your body. You were sweating so bad, you had no choice but to get up. You managed to wiggle your way out of his embrace, making your way to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. You snooped around his cupboards, trying to find something to make for breakfast. You settled on making eggs and toast, it was easy enough. As you continue scrambling your eggs, Chanyeol walks out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes with a smile on his face.

“What's this?” He asks.

“Breakfast. Duh.” You laugh. You were feeling good today, you felt like it was going to be a great day. Until your phone on the table started to ring.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Chanyeol grabbed your phone, declining the call and blocking the number.

“There. That should work.” He smiles. He sets your phone down, before it starts ringing again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER.

#exowritersnet #chanyeol #park chanyeol #exo chanyeol #baekhyun #kyungsoo #jennie #lisa #jisoo #jongin #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #exo #exo fanfiction #stalker #college au

[elvisabutler]

all the angst regarding austin x priscilla actress!reader has me thinking… how would the press tour + vogue photo shoots etc etc go between them? in your head are they back together by then?

i'm working on like ten different things and i already answered the vogue part kind of in another ask that actually came in after this one. but! i actually wanted to address the rest of this. tw: sexual mentions, arguably what comes close to an anxiety attack maybe? possessiveness to a degree?

so consider! maybe they are. in my head, they're back together come cannes. post cannes for sure. but maybe you know they aren't. maybe i've got an au where they are and maybe i've got one where they aren't. but we're- for the importance of this ask and not ally au's this au into like a billion other au's- assuming that yes. they are. and they are. well it's complicated.

the first part of the press tour, the part before it's actually really a press tour officially, the met and cannes are a mess. the met is spent with you wanting to avoid austin because that's what you've been doing minus the phone calls and the texts and the blocking his number because he called you drunk because you had the audacity to go on a date and wear a dress and got fucked. badly, but you got fucked.

except you're supposed to do your job and what do you always tell yourself. you're professionals. so you get close and lean in when cameras are flashing and austin's hand ignites a shiver in your body when it's just sitting on your back. "you cold, little dove?" is all that gets murmured in your ear before you shudder once more. and there's a closet ( that i used for another fic ) and you walk him in there by the wrist and you leave in the same car.

"i don't want to go to bed with you unless you're there in the morning, lil dove." "i'll be there in the morning."

not all mornings, but that next morning. except you scare him half to death when he wakes up and you're not there because you're grabbing your pjs or something from your own room. when you come back he's herding you to the bed and just peppering you with kisses. you're both a little emotional and it's- it makes it so you don't talk to him again until cannes. you think maybe it's been fixed but he doesn't call you either and you're so horrible at asking for what you want that you just let it sit. or at least if you talk it's not about what happened. and it's probably over text.

except now you're so touch starved because you got a taste of him again that he spends half the photocall trying not to touch you for fear of your reaction and the other half of it and everything else actively making sure he's got some form of hand on you.

that night though? that night the dam breaks. you try and not call him, because you can do this. you can be fine without him. you are fine without him but this is the most he's touched you and all you literally want is him. that's all you've honestly wanted for a year because you've missed him. not just daddy. you've missed austin who'd take pictures of you and tell you how beautiful you'd look in the bath with bubbles all around. you've missed daddy who always made sure you were clean after sex even if "it's fine, daddy you're just gonna dirty me up again.".

so you call. you're on your bed, curled up into yourself as much as you can be and you call. maybe in some universes he doesn't pick up. but in this one, he does.

"dove?" silence because he's calling you dove and what are you doing calling him like this. "i can hear you breathing, little dove." a sniffle then. "talk to me, dove, don't- be a good girl and talk, baby." the sniffle has turned into a soft cry until. "daddy i'm sorry. can i please come to your room, please. i know everyone will see me but i need to see you."

austin doesn't say anything for a long while and you're not paying attention to the noise in the background. "you're not leaving your hotel room, little dove." and you start to fully sob swallowing the pleas that threaten to spill out before you hear a knock on your door. "open up. i'm not letting anyone see you like this."

you make up after that. there's issues with the vogue shoot, none really for the vman shoot but every other press event? he's handing you water bottles, food, has his hand on you somehow in every single second. you two wasted enough time for the year-ish you were separated. why waste more now? you start going to therapy. so does he. you go together.

he asks you to marry him at the end of the press tour. it should feel rushed and you almost pass out when he asks. "i like a courthouse better than vegas, daddy."

maybe you do both.

#austin butler x priscilla actress reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #this is what i was working on before my body reminded me caffeine and naps are note equal. it was a good nap though. so no complaints.

[metalsiren-a]

INTO  THE  NIGHT ,  I  DRINK  AND  DRIVE .

                                                        ANYTHING  TO  HELP  ME  LET  GO .

     the moment she finds herself stepping through the threshold, it’s like something primal pulses through her.     a conflict rages, eyes slightly wide as she scans the endless options before her, lined up and eager for the taking.     her mouth dries up, swallowing as she licks her lips, trying to wet them and find some semblance of willpower.     sawyer knows what will happen if she gives in, if she allows herself to fall down that path once again.    six months down the drain.     six months of feeling as though she’s finally found some semblance of control, completely dissolved at the mere thought of going to family dinner.           it always ends up like this.

     there’s a very real desire to text someone – anyone – to talk her out of it. but the guilt of being a burden sets in and she finds it easier to just dive in head first.     the voice in her head tells her to just get a small flask-sized bottle, that way there’s nothing to be left over ( no evidence to hide ) and she can just start again the next day. relapse is a part of recovery.     relapse is a part of recovery.     relapse is a part of recovery.      relapse is a part of recovery.     relapse is a part of recovery.     relapse is a part of recovery.

     the mantra continues in her head as she makes her way through the isles, not needing to think about where her favourite options are – she knows where to go.     it’s muscle memory at this point.    she phsychs herself up all the way to the shelf, all but snatching the familiar bottle of vodka before immediately making her way to the cash register.    the smile she puts on for the cashier is a facade, bright and toothy with the intent to mask the fact that her heart is racing and her legs feel like they’re about to give out.

     the familiar sound of a brown paper bag crackling in her hand makes her want to puke, walking out of the store with a friendly sentiment.     

     it’s clear that she’s frantic, all but ripping the door to her driver’s side open and swiftly taking a seat before tossing the bottle onto the passenger side.     staring ahead, she places both hands on the wheel of the car, knuckles white as if the fear of letting it go would lead her to grabbing the bottle she’s already gone through the trouble of purchasing.       each breath starts to become more and more heavy, suddenly hearing the soft ping of her phone perched so perfectly in the cupholder. head doesn’t move, remaining straight ahead, but hazel eyes shift to peer at the notification, seeing kaleb’s name pop up, the notification showing how he’d simply texted her name with a question mark.    eyes close tightly then, head falling back against the seat of the car as everything washes over her.     all the tears she’s been holding in her throat escape, bubbling up in deep sobs deep enough to shake her shoulders.

     frustration and rage takes over, releasing a scream through her tears, hands jostling the wheel with a fury that, should she be any larger, would have torn it from it’s bolts.     with a sense of rage, she turns to the bottle, grabbing it before ripping it from the bag.    twisting the top open, she takes a large swig, feeling the familiar, comforting burn sear her throat and burn her stomach.      pulling the bottle from her lips, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling her heart slow down and her mind quiet.    of course, alcohol doesn’t work that quickly, she reminds herself, but her brain reminds itself of what will be.     putting the cap on the bottle, she puts it back in the brown bag and tosses it into the backseat before turning forward and pulling down her car mirror.     with soft sniffles, she wipes at her eyes, trying to clean up the mascara that has poured down her face.     staring at herself in the mirror for a moment, that guilt returns.      ❛ you’re such a fucking idiot, sawyer. ❜ she curses herself, tone mono and filled with self-loathing.

     pointedly, she puts the mirror back up before grabbing her phone and shooting kaleb a quick text – a lie that she’s okay.      a moment later she’s putting her phone back in the cupholder before turning on the ignition.     immediately, the sound of aggressive guitar, bass and drums fill the car, screaming vocals following suit as she puts the car in ‘drive’ and pulls out of the parking lot.

#tw drinking #tw substance abuse #tw alcohol abuse #tw addiction #help #this hurt me real bad #° 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔭𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 ; ✞ meta.

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

I wanna say that namjoons dad bestfriend drabble was so freaking hot….🥵🥵🥵 maybe part 2? 🙏 when they make out in family house of yn? And her dad is next room 👀 i am so dirty pls forgive me😂

can't believe it took me so long to answer this... okay, so, my requests are not open but i decided to clear up my inbox a bit, starting with this one. as for this part 2... i know it could have been just a short scene with pure smut, but i wanted the drama of the plot, okay? also i'm not doing another psa: this is wrong and pls don't do this, it's just fiction

part 1

Namjoon knew he had to stop this. This... Whatever it was the two of you had. He had found excuses to come see you multiple times throughout the winter, always missing you too much and being unable to stay away for too long. But when you surprised him, secretly coming back to your hometown to be with just him for a week, he wasn't as happy. It was the first reminder of how different your worlds were; he was a grown man minding his career, at an age where he should be seeking marriage and kids. And you? You were skipping school to see your crush.

"I think my daughter has a boyfriend," his best friend casually told him one day soon after that. Namjoon froze, his heart the only thing reacting to those words. But his friend went on nonchalantly, pointing to his ignorance. "I don't mind, of course. I've only told her one thing, and it's not to get pregnant. I don't want her to go through what her mother and I went through, you know? She's at this age... you know? She needs to enjoy her age."

Namjoon... The grown man who should be seeking marriage and kids was fucking this girl. All those times he came inside you, filling you up a little too aggressively– as if deep down he wished he'd knock you up and keep you to himself forever.

He had to end this.

When he told you those same words –you need to enjoy your age, you need to be with a peer– you seemed more mad than hurt. But perhaps you understood. You weren't stupid, you too knew this was wrong. Perhaps you were just waiting for it to happen, waiting for the excitement of doing something against the rules to die out and the realization of the responsibility to hit him. You didn't blame him. But you were still annoyed. Stopped talking altogether, the only news he got from you now came from your father. You did get a boyfriend, or so he was told. And you were doing well with your studies and you were generally living a great student's life.

Summertime and you were here again. Along with your so-called boyfriend. Namjoon was so pissed off when he saw the skinny, mussy, sweaty boy that seemed to either be very slow or high off his ass all the time. And you seemed pleased with yourself.

"You really had to bring him here?"

You chuckled– an evil laugh, he thought. "I thought you'd be happy to see me dating someone my age." When your eyes met his, you made him feel like your positions were switched. So confident while he was almost throwing a tantrum. "What about you?" you asked. "Dating anyone your age?"

On that topic, Namjoon had more than enough women showing interest. And your father, for some reason, was dead set on finding him a wife. All those blind dates he had to escape from! He was simply not interested. He didn't want to admit it was because he was still thinking about you; that no one else would ever be a good replacement for you. He didn't want to because he didn't plan on coming back to you; he had to be the adult, the mature one, and stay away. It was the logical and the right thing to do. He didn't want to admit that, despite all of his intelligence and reason, he still thought about you... Because if he did this would no longer be just some attraction, just some fucking around. If he admitted it was more, what would happen then?

No... this was good. You had already moved on. Enjoying your life the way you were supposed to, a life he had no room to be in. All he had to do now was follow your example.

"Namjoon..."

That text was sent past 2 am on a rainy night in October. The only text he had gotten from you in months. That was all it said yet it made his stomach tight as if you had moaned his name in his ear. As if he knew exactly why you had texted him; needy in the middle of the night, that measly boy surely unable to satisfy you, knowing exactly who could help you at that moment. Fuck... Perhaps if he replied right then things would go back to how they were a year ago. He didn't. And you didn't text him again.

"Joon! You are staying for the holidays, right? You should spend Christmas with us." Your father was more than happy to share that day meant to be with family, with his best friend. Namjoon was like family anyway, wasn't he? When he tried to come up with an excuse, the other insisted. "See? If you were married now you would have someone to spend Christmas with, but you're not, so you'll come to spend it with our family. My daughter's coming home tomorrow, too. Ah. Could you pick her up 'cause–"

"No. I can't. Too busy."

The man laughed. "It's okay. But I am expecting you for dinner on Christmas!" he said with a pointing finger. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

And so there he was. Sitting right across from you at the table. In the months that had passed, you had gained some weight and he thought you had never looked better. Your face a little fuller, your jeans straining against your round thighs and hips, your breasts fitting your curves just right. The body of a grown woman. All Namjoon could think about was feeling you against him again. And he was mad again... Did your stupid boyfriend have the chance to fuck you like that? He didn't deserve you.

"You didn't bring that boy with you this time..." he commented.

"What, Eric?" your mother answered for you. "They broke up."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving yours. "Really? How come?"

The corner of your lips turned upwards. "He was just... Too much of a kid."

He hated the way he sighed in relief, the way excitement bubbled in his stomach. He shouldn't be as happy to hear that as he was... He glanced at you again, your hair that had grown longer pushed back to expose your neck. It was getting harder and harder for Namjoon to keep his mind from wandering off to inappropriate things. Along with other parts getting hard.

And then your father spoke. "Joon. You know she's graduating next month, right?" His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead because no– no, he didn't know that. "She's looking for an internship and I thought–"

"Dad..."

"–you could help her get in your company? Maybe you could put in a good word for her?"

"Dad!" Your tone and the way your eyes widened towards your father's way betrayed the fact that the topic hadn't been new, and that you were clearly against the idea.

He looked at you until you finally turned back to face him. And surprising both himself and you, he said: "Yes, of course."

"I'm going to sleep," you announced after the dinner was over and you had helped clean up the table. You gave Namjoon a long glance before you disappeared down the hallway. Your parents had moved to the couch, TV on for some music and a game of cards keeping them busy when their friend asked to go to the bathroom. And you heard a soft knock on your door. "I'm assuming you know that's the wrong door you're knocking at," you spoke before you opened. Already in your sleeping outfit that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and just your panties.

"You knew it was me?" Namjoon whispered, eyes still stuck on your thighs.

"My parents don't knock."

You let him in, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you looked up at him through your lashes. You both stayed silent for a moment, your breaths the only thing filling the empty, badly lit room. You noticed how he wet his plump lips and bit them while he was examining your face. So close you could smell his aroma, the one you never forgot.

“You don’t have to… you know,” you spoke, referring to your father’s idea. “I know you want to avoid me.”

Namjoon exhaled from his nose as if he was annoyed. “I- It’s not that I want to…”

“I know.” You gulped, finding your mouth wetting too much at the wish of kissing him, along with other parts getting wet. “You don’t want to— you have to.” You dared place your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling away, he leaned into your touch. Feeling his heart beat fast under your fingertips like the way he was breathing. He was slowly losing his mind but he knew he wasn’t the only one. “You don’t have to push me away,” you continued in a low tone. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the one coming to you.”

“Little one…” he rasped, and it had you catching a moan in the back of your throat. Oh, how you longed for his pet names, his voice calling to you lovingly. He stepped even closer. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be doing this right now… But how could he stop? He wanted you so bad. His hands cupped your cheeks, lips just a breath away from yours, brushing against you as he whispered: “Come work with me… I wanna see you every day.”

The fabric of his shirt pooled in your palms as you grabbed him, closing the tiny gap between you. Both of you sighing in a mixture of relief and impatience as your lips crushed together. The softness only lasted a few seconds before you were moaning and Namjoon was pinning you on the door, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue in like he was trying to devour you. Your arms wrapped around him while his hands traveled down your body, groping you like you were his stress relief toy. Your hips, your ass… He broke the kiss and buried his face in your neck.

“Ah- daddy,” you whined, grinding on him.

Namjoon felt like he was about to cry. “I missed you so much!” he choked out right before latching his teeth on your skin. Your naughty fingers were struggling to unzip his pants quickly and it made him chuckle instead of sob. “Fuck—” he growled. And he pulled back to stare at you with dark eyes. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.” There he was; the Namjoon you knew so well. His words made you shiver.

“Please, daddy. I need you right now.”

He placed a hand on the door right next to your head, while he freed his dick with the other. “Your parents are right outside.”

Ignoring his words, you discarded your panties and took him in your hand, biting your lip. “I can’t wait any longer, need you to fuck me right now, plea-ase!” you whined a little too loud and Namjoon growled, grabbing your legs and lifting you until you straddled his waist, back on the door.

“Gosh, you’ll get daddy in big trouble, baby.” Tip of his cock brushing your wet folds, making your mouth drop. “They might come looking for me.”

“Quick,” you sobbed. “Be quick, please, just— ah!”

He slipped inside and you both gasped. Your legs were shaking at the feeling, eyes rolling back and a moan as quiet as you could manage rumbled through your neck. He got as deep as he could, face scrunching as if he was in pain. You kissed him.

“I’ve missed you, daddy. I’ve missed this so much.”

His head was spinning as he was trying to find the right words, the words that could describe exactly how he felt about you. “I- I-”

Laughter echoed through the house— your mother. You both froze. Namjoon glanced at the doorknob, and then he grabbed it; your parents could walk in at any moment. He didn’t stop though, nothing could stop him now. He angled his hips and started thrusting into you; fast and sloppy because the clock was ticking.

“Daddy…” you mewled, unable to do or say anything else.

Namjoon clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” he demanded. “You better not start screaming like the little whore you are, or they’ll hear us.”

His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; making you moan harder. And the fact that he had his big hand over your mouth made you not care to keep quiet. Your choked whines along with the wet sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you could definitely be heard from the other side of the door, perhaps even from that couch your father was on had it not been for the music.

“Shit, you—” he growled. He finally dropped his hand from your mouth, wanting to grab your ass to lift you higher, fuck you better.

Your head fell on his shoulder before you decided to bite down on it to stop yourself from screaming as Namjoon’s thick dick drilled into you with no mercy. “So-o good…”

“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath already, yet cocky. “Did you forget what it’s like to have a real man fuck your pussy, baby? That little boy didn’t do shit, did he? He can’t fuck you as good as daddy, right?”

Your nails dug in his back and you felt your brain so rotten like he was about to fuck you to sleep. “I… don’t know…” you mumbled.

Namjoon stopped. He pulled his head slightly back but he couldn’t see your face. “What?” Your body squirmed, trying to chase that high he had just denied you. “What do you mean—”

“I don’t know what he was like,” you whined. “I only thought of you.”

Another laughter, loud voices coming from that couch. It didn’t scare him that much this time, his heart was already racing and he only gave that direction a glance before he was pulling your head back to look into your eyes. Only then did he notice the tear stains on your cheeks, and you sobbed, choked as he thrust into you again.

“I only thought of you, daddy…” you repeated with a whimper. And it had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, pumping into you a couple more times, hard, before he spilled his seed deep inside.

A whisper. “Fuck…” Panting and groaning as he was trying to come to, and you watching his glistening face as he grimaced and bit his lip. He let you down, resting his forehead on the door while he still struggled to collect himself, and you basked in the pride it gave you. You tucked him back in his underwear and zipped him up with a smirk on your lips, seeing how he finally started to be able to focus his eyes on you.

You opened the door slightly and peeked out; your parents were still playing cards on the couch, they didn’t notice you just like they probably hadn’t noticed how long Namjoon was gone for.

“You should go back,” you whispered as you came back into the room. Namjoon kissed you quickly like he was trying to catch you off guard. And then he grabbed your chin, staring down at you, breaths still coming out too hard.

“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I’ll come back to finish what I started when your father goes to bed.”

You smiled, pushing him slightly back yet he wasn’t budging. “Go…” you prompted as you started feeling his cum sipping out of your cunt and slowly running down your thighs.

Namjoon smiled too. “Really. I’ll eat you out till you pass out, baby, I promise.”

In the dark of the room and the rush of the moment, you decided you had no reason not to let your thoughts slip out. “I wish you could just come to sleep in my arms.”

He got a little serious. And he kissed you again, slower than before. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He left through that door, meeting your parents that were happy to see him yet didn’t even bother to point out his long absence. Sitting next to his best friend while his breathing was still shaky from fucking his daughter.

Shit… That girl will get him in so much trouble…

Masterlist

#bts #bangtan #namjoon #rm #kim namjoon #request #drabble #fanfic #oneshot #smut #dilf namjoon #bts drabble #bts smut #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon one shot #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #kkklaudiaaa17

[bluecookies02]

When they make you cry

pairings: Hawks x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Aizawa x Reader, Izuku x Reader, Tamaki x Reader

Tamaki, Bakugou and Hawks are in a female!reader perspective, the rest of them are Gender Neutral

warnings: angst to fluff

masterlist

Hawks will get cocky, laughing in your face when he sees your shocked expression.

Both of you were going at each others throats, spitting insults to one another, just your recent daily routine.

Now Hawks knew you were a tough gal, which in his head made it alright for him to strike a really painful nerve into your chest.

As you remained speechless he turned around, a winning smirk plastered on his lips.

Just as he took a few steps forward, sobs wrecked your body as you hid your face in your hands.

"I d-don't think I can take this anymore Keigo" your broken voice reached his ears.

A pang of guilt pierced his chest once he turned around to face you.

He did this. He made you cry. He completely drained your happiness out. He hurt you.

His teeth dug into his lip, his eyes stinging as tears picked at them.

At that point, he didn't give two shits about who's right and who's wrong, his arms reaching for you and wrapping themselves around your shaking form.

He held you there for a while, listening to your cries that gradually turned into soft sniffles against his chest.

"I-" He opens his mouth but his words remained stuck at his throat.

"I don't want us to end..." you mumbled, your own words throwing you into another sobbing fit.

"We won't end here kid, I've got you...shit...I'm a fucking idiot...of course we won't end sweetheart...c'mon look at me" he raised your chin up gently, looking into your red eyes.

"I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry...not just for today, for every day before this, I-, God... don't leave kid, p-please"

You stared at his face, tears now streaming down his cheeks as his grip on you tightened.

You swallow the lump in your throat, grabbing his hands in yours.

"Something has to change Keigo...I miss you...we've been distant for months. Sometimes you don't even come home to me, do you know how that feels?"

"I know, I know, I swear... I miss you too. I'll tell you about everything I promise. Let's go home please."

You hesitantly nod, putting your heart on the line for the last time.

And now looking back, you're glad you did.

//quirk: flesh manipulation (the reader can manipulate the molecules in a person's flesh just by touching it, making them useful mid-battle to make the other heroes ready to fight again in a matter of seconds, but also making them a threat to their enemies )

If there was one thing he despised about you, it was your guts.

Hell curse him for falling in love with someone so stubborn.

To live through a relationship with Dabi meant that you had to have though skin. You had to be strong enough to bite your cheeks and endure the issues that people in regular relationships never face.

He enters your home, covered in bruises and cuts, asking for your first aid kit.

You sigh to yourself, your usual nagging and yelling never reaching his ears.

You place the first aid kit onto your bedside table, turning your back to him, tiredly walking out of the room.

"Hey-" his voice calls out to you, quiet and confused.

You close the door behind you, making your way to your couch.

One of these days it'll be the last time he walks into your home, the last time you help him clean his cuts and the last time you hear his voice.

The weight of uncertainty pulls at your chest harder with every passing day.

He chose to continue living like this, he is the one that keeps ruining his own life, it's his ambitions that are making you this miserable.

Once he patches himself up, he sits on your bed for a while. Your silance meaning one thing and one thing only. You finally realized how pointless being with him is, you finally got it through your thick skull that he's nothing special to dwell about.

Time passes by quickly, a few hours already gone yet he's still glued to the same spot, not having the strength to leave your room, too scared to face your rejection once he gets out.

He should be happy for you, you won't be hurting anymore, you'll be able to find someone better.

He slowly twists the knob, taking slow steps through your living room.

You are laying on your couch, tear stains on your face and a tissue crumbled in your hand.

His chest tightenes at the sight. You cried yourself to sleep. He wonders... how many times did you cry over him? How many times would you just lay here as he carelessly roamed the streets?

He should leave...he should spare you the pain he brings. You were the only good thing in his life and by continuing this he'll ruin you, piece by piece.

You showed nothing but kindness to him, you made him realize that some people are worth getting close to, you being a hero also making his resolves shake under his feet.

He stretched his arm out to your cheek, careful not to wake you up.

He left a soft kiss to your temple before leaving your house.

-----

You woke up to a persistent ring of your doorbell.

You felt terrible...your hair was a mess, your nose was all clogged up and your eyes burned from all the crying.

You opened your door with annoyance, mad at whoever decided to burst your sadness bubble.

"Hey doll, I would've let myself in but my hands are kinda busy"

Your boyfriend stood there with a backpack on his shoulder and a carton box in his hands.

"So...do you happen to have a room to spare for a year or two...maybe three?"

You stare in disbelief your hand covering your mouth.

"I know that me being a villain might be a setback but...I got some hair dye? I might even consider letting you fix my jigsaw face."

Your body crashed into his, the box dropping to the ground as you squeezed your arms around him.

Maybe he can make you as happy as you make him.

You knew he was rough around the edges, but you never even imagined that you would be the one his rage would be directed at.

As soon as insults came crashing your way you left the room.

You were just trying to calm him down, placing your hand on his shoulder as you urged him to stop shouting and just let it go.

His rough hands grabbed yours, throwing your hand away like you were a mere fly, his quirk burning your skin.

You tried calling out to him just for him to snap around and scream at you.

Once you reached your dorm tears freely rolled down your cheeks.

You yearned for a normal relationship, longed for some peace and quiet just for a week or two.

Yet you just couldn't let the blonde go, always hoping for some miracle to come your way and take ahold of his ego.

--------

It's around 2 am and he can't fall asleep for the hell of it.

You're not picking up his calls nor answering his texts and you've been inactive on social media for hours.

Kirishima has been urging him to go to your dorm for two hours already, spamming him massages about him not being manly enough to win you back.

It's not like he doesn't want to, he just has no idea how to. Should he get you something? Get you some food and flowers? Where the fuck can he find all these things at 2 am? Isn't that how people in movies apologize or something...

He hates when you're mad at him, he is scared shitless of actually scaring you off and pushing you away.

A knock at your door snaps you out of your thoughts and a small flame of hope warms your heart for a split second as you make your way to your door.

He's holding a gray hoodie and a pair of bento boxes.

"That's not gonna fix it Katsuki."

"I know shitty woman you didn't even give me a chance to speak!"

You're sure that that's the first time Bakugou said the word "sorry" in his whole life.

The way it rolled off his tongue was shaky but somewhat determined, his hand grabbing ahold of yours gently.

Guilt was evident on his face as he stroked the bandages covering your hands.

"It's not that bad Katsu, and I understand that it was an accident." you mumbled trying to pull from his grip so he can focus on something else.

He grabbed ahold of your wrists, bringing your palms to his lips.

"I'll work on it, I promise. It'll never happen again. I mean it." you just give a soft nod, leading him to the table.

"Good. Now let's eat, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" you cheered, opening the bentos and stuffing your mouth with rice.

"Y/N...it's 4 am."

"Exactly, now eat, you're not gonna let me eat all of this by myself?!"

For this man, it was close to impossible to make his s/o cry.

He cherishes the relationship he has with you, making you feel special every single day at a time.

So when he sees you crying, he's confused and alarmed.

He reaches for you, trying his best to give you the comfort he thinks you need.

When you push his hands away and scream at him...Oh boy...

He's terrified.

Did he do something? Did he forget your anniversary? Your birthday? Did he eat your snack from the fridge??

You're pulling at the strands of your hair, your head buried into your knees as you sob.

He looks around, eyes widening when he sees a photo of himself and some girl kissing on the screen of your phone.

He wasn't there? He has proof! He was in a meeting! All of his colleagues could confirm that, he just needs you to listen! Please listen to him.

He's talking...blabbering...begging for you to just look at him.

As soon as you look up for a split second, he's hugging you, smothering your face in kisses as you weakly try to push him away.

Finally he leans his forehead against yours, letting out a long sigh of relief when he realizes that you're not crying anymore.

"Please Shouta, please, if you even have any respect for me, don't lie to me." you mumble out coldly, turning your head from him.

"Y/N, I would never, ever do that to you! Never! I love you so much, please, you have to know that, you do know that!"

You're too stubborn, but he calls all of his colleges one by one, putting them on speaker for you, asking about the time of the meeting or details of the meeting and they all have the same answer.

So now, your throat is dry and there's a lump in your throat, guilt eating at you as you try to apologize.

He couldn't give two shits about any of that, all he has to know is that you're okay and that you're still his.

He's not letting you go for the rest of the day, you're wrapped under the blankets with him as he makes sure you never believe the bullshit you see online.

"Sweetheart if I ever cheat on you, that's the day I cut my own dick off and bleed to death."

It makes you giggle and then laugh hysterically and he's just looking at you with the biggest heart eyes 🥺

Izuku would never do anything to make you cry.

He pays attention to every single detail in your relationship and he especially pays attention to your feelings.

What he is really bad at, is taking care of himself.

He doesn't take in consideration how you feel when he comes home all stitched up and tired, or how he stays up late to train and push himself further than his body can take.

However one day, he is exhausted from his training and he barely has any strength left. His phone rings and he is rushing out the door, already panting.

You don't reach him in time to stop him, so here you are, hours later next to his hospital bed.

The villain wasn't too powerful, but his state caused him to pass out in the middle of the bettle field.

As soon as he wakes up, you're yelling at him, but at the same time sobbing against his chest.

"I can't just stand here and watch you hurt yourself Zuku... I can't, I can't, I can't....O-one of these days you're just gonna slip away from my hands, I can't. Please" You're grip on him softens as you loose the strength in your hands.

His arms wrap themselves around you, trying his best not to flinch as you rub against his bandages.

His eyes are watering, realization dawning on him as he holds your tired body against him.

You're right...He sees the state of himself after a lowlife villain with a pathetic quirk sent him into the hospital. He doesn't even want to think about what would've happened if there was someone much stronger out there.

"Hey Y/N...I-...I might take a week off, to rest yeah? Does that sound good?"

You nod, wiping away the tears as you sniffle.

"And you won't be training at night anymore. And you won't be staying up late!" you scold as he rubs your cheeks.

"I won't. I promise." he places a kiss at your temple, pulling you onto the hospital bed next to him.

"Let's sleep for a bit yeah? I might owe you a few hours..."

You're crying, he's crying.

He's down on one knee and he's stuttering, his hands shaking as he hears you cry out a happy "Yes".

He barely gets the ring on your finger, burying his head into your neck as soon as he gets to his feet.

You always thought that he was going to propose to you at home, maybe some homecooked dinner with roses and candles. You didn't mind that option either.

You were surprised that he even suggested a walk in the park.

I mean, it was a really small park with little to no people in the area but it was beautiful nonetheless.

You're all giddy and happy as he takes your hand in his, his eyes always glancing at the ring on your finger.

Once you spot an ice cream stand you leap in happiness, rushing to get ice cream for the both of you.

The lady selling it smiles brightly at you.

"Is that the lucky guy?" you nod grabbing your icecream as Tamaki hides behind you.

"Good job sweetheart, you're making this lady very happy, I can feel it in my old bones" you laugh at her remark as you nudge Tamaki forward.

She hands him his ice cream and winks at him.

He's blushing and thanking the lady before running off to an empty bench.

”He’s a lil’ shy but he's got the spirit” you say to the lady as you rush off to get him.

You take the time to really study the ring, the beautiful blue crystal shining in the sun.

”I...I hope you l-like it...Nejire helped me out. Uhm I probably shouldn't have said that...S-she-"

"I like it Tama...I love it actually" you place a gentle kiss just at the corner of his lips, his hands grabbing your cheeks and kissing you deeply in return.

His cheeks are warm and his lips are slow against yours but you melt against him, letting him place you in his lap.

"Oh my God, I have a fiancé, oh my God, I have to call Mirio and tell him you said yes. You said yes, right?"

You laugh as you shake your head at him, playing with his hair as he fumbles with his phone.

All of the pictures are from the original anime/manga (please do correct me if I'm wrong in the comments below)

The Tamaki one has no angst in it because I had to heal from all of the emotional rollercosters.

___________

requests:closed

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#hawks x reader #dabi x reader #aizawa x reader #izuku x reader #tamaki x reader #bakugou x reader #keigo takami x reader #touya x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katuski x reader #izuku midoria x reader #tamaki fluff #hawks x you #hawks fluff #dabi fluff #aizawa fluff #izuku fluff #bakugou fluff #hawks imagine #dabi imagine #izuku imagine #bakugou imagine #tamaki imagine #mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #villan x reader #gender netural reader #gn reader

[kats-baku1999]

Hidden Secrets, Part Two.

wait I can’t believe you guys actually like part one (read that here) I was so insecure about posting it. I’m glad, I’m so glad. Everyone was asking for Bakugo’s suffering so here it is…

READ PART THREE HERE

warnings: I won’t even lie to you all, I have father problems, so this writing hit a little close to home. if in any way you think it’ll hurt or upset you, please don’t read any further okay? mentions of cheating and sex too. also there is some momo slander. I am so sorry.

It was as if the entire world stopped spinning for a second. Kirishima took a step in front of you and Haru, standing chest to chest with Bakugo. Bakugo glared at him, before looking at you. Every ounce of anger you felt towards him began bubbling up. There was so much you wanted to say. So much you wanted to scream at him. You couldn’t yet though, not in front of Haru.

“Kirishima, will you take Haru to your office? I know how excited he has been to see it since the renovation,” You forced a smile, and looked at your son who’s middle brow was creased, which was a for sure sign he was worrying about something, “It’s alright Ru, I will come meet you in there soon,”

“Yeah, come on little monster, I have a huge TV in there now!” Kirishima’s tone did not match the glare on his face, “The conference room is open you two,”

“Thank you Ei, have fun sweetheart,” Haru released himself from you, and let Kirishima take him. He perked his head back over Kirishima’s shoulder and gave you a small wave with his tiny little hand. You forced another smile and waved back, before turning around to face your ex boyfriend. His face was still frozen in shock, as he watched his old best friend walk off with the tiny little human.

“Please tell me what the fuck-”

“Go to the conference room, now.” You snapped and stomped away from him. Bakugo followed after, the boots of his hero costume echoing on the floor of the lobby. He clicked the door behind him as soon as he was in the same room as you.

“So did you just plan on never fucking telling me I had a kid?!” Bakugo yelled, his voice echoing. You turned around and glared at him, “When the fuck did you even find out you were pregnant?”

“Oh, I found out a few days before I found out you were cheating on me,” You laughed dryly, “I was going to tell you that night, but I got a little side tracked,”

“Bullshit absolute bullshit, you should have told me!” Bakugo yelled, not backing down, “Four fucking years! Four!”

“Cut the bullshit Bakugo, I came to your office two weeks before he was born, I ran into Momo and she said you would call me, that night I get a simple text that says you wanted nothing to do with him,” You yelled, jabbing a finger into his chest, “Then you just mysteriously move away with Momo, and no one hears from you, and now you are in Kirishima’s office demanding to know things?!”

“What the fuck are you talk about?! What text?!” Bakugo yelled, grabbing your hand and moving it away from him, “I just found out about the kid today! You still haven’t even confirmed that he was mine?!”

“Take one fucking look at him and tell me he isn’t yours, the only thing that even convinced me he might be from some magical conception is that he is so sensitive and caring!”

“(Y/N) what fucking messages? We haven’t talked since the night you left?” Bakugo’s voice lowered, “I promise you, if I would have known about him I would have, I would have-”

“What? Come back to me? Be with me?” Your voice was monotone and cold, he felt like he was talking to a stranger. A stranger that hates him.

“I mean, yeah maybe, or at least I would’ve been there for his first steps, words, breath, just anything,” Bakugo’s anger was subsiding for the first time in years, “Momo, that day, I know what you’re talking about, because she told me that her and I would never be happy as long as we were here,”

“Oh wow, so the person who you cheated on me with was also a liar, what a shock,” You scoffed, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I heard about her and Todoroki, and their affair,”

Bakugo paused for a second, shocked by your apology. Also by the fact that you even knew. It wasn’t public knowledge yet, considering it just happened two weeks ago. That was the one reason Kirishima was even acknowledging his presence again. He was the one who found them together, and despite his anger towards him, at one point Bakugo was his best friend. So he called him, told him to come to the bar he was at. When Bakugo got there, he found Momo practically on top of Todoroki. A poor, still oblivious, Todoroki who was convinced that Momo had left Bakugo. That she had called off their two year engagement.

“I didn’t realize Kirishima told you, still don’t know how he failed to mention my son-”

“Hey, don’t do that okay? Be mad at me for not trying harder, but don’t be mad at Kirishima, he knew if he would have said anything he wouldn’t have been able to see Haru anymore,” You sat down in one of the chairs, “To be honest, I had just planned on you never finding out,”

“That isn’t fair (Y/n), he is my son.” Bakugo’s tone of voice was frustrated and angry. He didn’t want to be mad at you, he knew he couldn’t be mad at you.

“No, he is my son, mine, I’ve done everything, I was there for all of the bruises and scratches, for when he got into my hair gel to try and make himself look like Kirishima, for his birthdays and Christmases, you weren’t there,” You snapped, “Sharing his genetics does not make him your son,”

“No but you don’t get to hold this shit against me, it wasn’t my fault,” Bakugo fired back.

“You’re the one who fucked her,” You sneered. Standing up again, running your hand through your hair, “You cheated on me with her, you chose her over me, you don’t get to be the victim here either, I don’t even get to be the victim, the only person who deserves to even act like the victim is my son,”

“I’m here now, I know now, and I want nothing more but than to get to know him,” Bakugo looked at you with pleading eyes, “To be apart of his life, of your life,”

“I don’t know, I can’t just tell him that you’re his dad, he has been asking for the past year, and he has so much more going on already,” You laughed, “He doesn’t have his quirk yet, it’s becoming evident that he might not ever have his quirk, so how do I tell him that his dad is the number one hero, and a person he idolizes?”

“So you’ve faulted me because my ex fiancé was a psychopath who didn’t think I needed to know about my son, and now because I’m the number one hero- wait, he doesn’t have his quirk?”

“No, no he doesn’t, that’s why we are in town, for Denki and Hitoshi’s wedding, and to see a doctor,” You explained, the tears finally spilling over, “I can’t just dump this on him too Bakugo, please, you have to understand,”

“I do, okay I do, but please I can’t just let you walk away today with him and not do anything, I have to know him, but I don’t want to make this a problem bigger than it needs to be,” Bakugo grabbed your shoulders, “Please don’t make me villain here, okay I don’t want to be,”

“As much as I want to, I can’t, I know I can’t it wouldn’t be fair to him,” You grabbed his hands off your shoulders and held them for a second, a small sob threatening to escape your throat, “But please don’t take him from me, he’s all I have,”

Bakugo stopped and tightened his grip on your hands. Forcing you to look up at him. His eyebrows were creased, furrowed up exactly like Haru’s always did. The same look of concern Haru’s always had on his face when you said something close to sad.

“I wouldn’t think about taking him away, so get that shitty ass thought out of your head right now,” Bakugo sighed, “He doesn’t even have to know I’m his father right now, not until your ready, but I would like to be your friend, your friend that comes around him, your friend that he gets to know like he knows Kirishima,”

“Okay, okay,” You mumbled, nodding your head, “You can pick us up and take us to his doctor’s appointment, then we can all go out with Kirishima after so he feels more comfortable, we can start there,”

“Okay, let’s start there,” Bakugo let go of your hands slowly, “Does he you know like anything?”

“Yes, Bakugo he likes things, heroes specifically, are you going to blow up this office if I say Deku is his favorite?” You wiped the tears off your face, and finally bust out laughing at Bakugo’s groan that followed, “I’m going to grab Haru, I’ll have Kirishima send you my number okay?”

“Okay, thank you, let me know about the doctors thing.”

You gave him a small nod and walked out of the room. Stopping the bathroom to rinse off the tears. When you opened up the door to Kirishima’s office, you found Haru staring at the large tv completely awe struck by the footage of Midoriya fighting alongside Bakugo. One of their earlier fights, they were just barely pros. You remembered it because that was when he and Shinso agreed to work together. That was the fight that introduced you to him.

— a few days later

“Momma, you’re doing your upset walk,” Haru whispered, as if he was telling some kind of secret. Shinso snorted into his coffee, and earned him self a dirty look from you.

“Your mother is just nervous over seeing her friend small human,” Shinso called you out, and earned another dirty look.

“Momma is friends with Dynamight, Uncle Toshi! She has even met Deku!” Haru’s eyes were sparkling as he said it, waving around his Deku plushie.

“You know, I’ve worked with Deku before, almost beat him-”

“In the sports festival, yes Uncle Toshi we knowwww,” Haru groaned, having heard the story at least fifty time. It was your turn to laugh. Haru loved Shinso, but when it came to his favorite heroes, being ranked under his own fiancé was a bit of a sting.. So poor Shinso tries to impress the kid every chance he can.

“You’ve told him the story at least ten times,” You backed up your son, shrugging your shoulders.

“You know, I was in the room when you came into this world little man, I deserve some props as a hero,” Shinso groaned, and Haru just laughed, taking another bite of his cereal.

“I know, but you’re a hero like you know a dad would be,” Haru said casually and both of you froze. He was trying so desperately to figure out what it meant to have a Dad. The last time Kirishima came to visit, he had even asked him if he was his dad because of their red eyes, and how Kirishima is always there for his big moments. Then he asked you if Shinso was his dad, because they both liked cats.

“Haru, our ride is here, we better go outside okay?” You smiled, changing the subject, “Give Toshi a hug!”

Haru jumped down and gave Shinso a quick hug. You grabbed your things, and your files about Haru’s past doctor’s appointments. After he grabbed his backpack you walked over and kissed Shinso’s cheeks, mouthing a quick apology. He waved you off.

“Let me know how it goes,” He smiled, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about the doctors appointment.

You picked up Haru and carried him outside. Bakugo waved at you both, and Haru hid his face again. Although he was excited to get to meet one of his heroes, he was also terrified. Bakugo pouted a little bit, and you gave him a small glare. He straightened up and forced a smile.

“I just need to grab his seat!” You forced a smile, trying to avoid how awkward this was. Bakugo shook his head.

“Nope, I bought one, it’s got all the things,” Bakugo sounded proud of himself, you raised an eyebrow but walked towards his car. He opened the door and you saw a seat, one of the ones with a cup holder, and in it was a collectible Deku doll that Haru had wanted for months. Along with a signed picture of him.

“Haru, look,” You whispered, making sure to tell Bakugo later that he can’t just buy his love. Haru’s face lit up though, and he quickly jumped down out of your arms. He grabbed the doll and picture, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Thank you Mr. Dynamight sir!” Haru grinned, before climbing in his seat so you could buckle him in. Bakugo stood behind you, and you could practically feel the grin radiating off of him.

“Call me Katsuki kid, all of my friends do,” Bakugo smiled, and got in the drivers seat. You walked over to the other side, and climbed into the passenger seat.

The ride was quiet, just the sounds of Haru playing with his new toy in the background. Neither you or Bakugo knew what to say to one another. So you just sat in comfortable silence, looking through Haru’s main doctor’s notes. Then Haru needed to blow his nose, and out of habit you opened up the glove box to grab a tissue as if you were in your own car. Inside it though you found Bakugo’s necklace that had matched yours, that you gave back to him when you left. You grabbed a tissue and handed it back to Haru.

“Yours is hanging up on the rearview mirror of my other car,” Bakugo mumbled, his eyes not leaving the road. You studied the side of his face, just nodding in response. It was odd that after all of this time he still had that dumb thing. You two had gotten them on your fourth time of hanging out, he had found them at a festival he made some appearance at. They were cheap, but you both wore them all of the time. The necklaces meant something to both of you, the day you took yours off was the day you knew it was over.

The rest of the ride felt tense. You felt silly over thinking the necklace. You figured he would have thrown them away at this point. When you finally got to the hospital, Bakugo went and found a parking spot. He went to walk in with you two but you shook your head.

“I’m not ready for the rumors to start surrounding Haru, so would you mind just hanging out here?” You whispered.

“Oh, yeah no you’re right, I’ll be here,” Bakugo nodded his head, looking a little disappointed. You climbed out of the car and grabbed Haru, who waved a tiny hand at Bakugo as the two of you walked towards the entrance.

You weren’t in the waiting room for long till you were called into the exam room. They did a few X-rays, and tests, on Haru. Then after about an hour you were sitting in the Doctor’s office as Haru played with his toys on the floor. The doctor say down across from you and showed you all of the test results.

“Well the good news is, Haru will most definitely have a quirk, his body is already adjusted to what his quirk would be,” The doctor smiled, “I’m guessing his father’s quirk has something to do with nitroglycerin?”

“Uh well we don’t actually know much about his father,” You lied, knowing Haru was paying attention now.

“Well Haru has high levels of it in his sweat glands according to the tests, but my only concern is that I think he has some kind of mental block keeping him from using his quirk,” The doctor explained, “You’re quirkless correct?”

“Uh yes sir, I am,” You nodded your head. Haru walked over to you and grabbed your hand. So you put him in your lap.

“Maybe he just won’t use his quirk because he doesn’t want to be different from you, since you are his sole provider,”

“No that’s not it,” Haru interrupted and you both looked at him, “It’s not Mommy’s fault, I just want to use my quirk when Dad comes back for us,”

You felt your heart break into a million pieces.

“Haru sweetie, have you known about your quirk?” You whispered, and he nodded his head sadly.

“I accidentally blew up Mira’s doll at the playground, but made her promise to not tell her parents so you wouldn’t know,” Haru hung his head, and avoided eye contact. Like he did whenever he thought he was going to be in trouble.

“Haru you could’ve told me, then we wouldn’t have had to do all these tests, why didn’t you-”

“I just wanted dad to be the one to help me,” Haru cut you off again, his eyes watering. You let out a sigh and pulled him closer to you. The doctor nodded his head, smiling softly at you.

The two of you walked out to the car again. Bakugo’s head perked up at the sight of you both. He jumped out of the car and opened the door for you to put Haru in. Bakugo raised an eyebrow at the sad look on his face, and then looked at you.

“Tell me he has his quirk? Or at least a hope of one?” Bakugo asked, and you closed Haru’s door. Glaring at Bakugo, before walking over to your door. You climbed in the car and didn’t say a word until you got the park where Kirishima was meeting you guys.

“Hey, Haru why don’t you go with Uncle Ei and play while I talk to Katsuki?” You smiled at Haru, who climbed out of his seat and went to Kirishima who had opened the door for him. Kirishima closed the door and walked away with Haru. Bakugo looked towards you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why did you do it?” You whispered and Bakugo just looked even more confused, “Why did you fuck all of this up?”

“What do you mean?” Bakugo’s tone was proof enough that he was annoyed. Not necessarily at you, but more so at the fact he could see Kirishima playing with his son so effortlessly.

“Cheat on me, leave me alone to raise him, leave him confused and upset because all he wanted was his dad,” Your eyes started water, tears threatening to spill over. Bakugo turned his head back towards you, your words stinging a little bit.

“I didn’t leave you alone, I didn’t know.” His voice was stern, “You can’t make me out to be the dead beat father in this situation (Y/n) I would have been there for him if I would have known he was alive,”

You let out a sigh of defeat, making eye contact with him. Bakugo felt his heart break at the look in your eyes. You looked.. Defeated.

“I know, I know it’s my fault okay?” You whispered, “I should have never kept him from you, I should have told you I was pregnant but I was selfish, and hurt, and-”

You were sobbing now. Your words falling off. Bakugo unbuckled your seat belt, and pulled you over the center console so you were sitting on him. He hugged you, tightly. Letting you let out every single sob, as he rubbed your back. You cling onto his shirt as you buried your face in his shoulder.

“I know why you were mad, and I don’t blame you but (Y/n), I would have been there for you both if I would have know,” He whispered against you, you pulled your head back and looked at him.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I still hate what you did to me, to our relationship, but Haru deserves to know his father,” You sighed, Bakugo reached up and wiped some of the stray make up on your face.

“So we’ll tell him?” He smiled hopefully, and you nodded.

“Eventually, eventually we will tell him, but for now I just want you to get to know him, ease him into it,” His smile faded a little but he knew you were right.

Bakugo stared at you and it settled in for him that it was never Momo. It was never once her for him, it was you. Back then, he was too scared to let himself admit it. Despite how long you two had been together when his affair with Momo started, he was scared. Scared of how much he could love a single person. Then he felt guilty because he had no reason to have that fear. He grew up watching his parents have that kind of love. It was his own selfish mindset that pushed him to that decision.. That pushed him to losing you.

You crawled back into your seat, flipping the visor down. Bakugo watched as you wiped the make up off your face. You turned back to look at him, smiling a little.

"I have a proposition for you, if you want to spend more time with him?" Your voice sounded a little nervous, and Bakugo grinned a little nodding his head, "Go to the wedding with us to the wedding? I mean you and Denki were friends right?"

"Are you sure? I mean I know how all of them must feel about me?" Bakugo laughed a little, and you shook your head looking back at Haru and Kirishima.

"They all love Ru, so much, so I think they will understand why I want you there, and besides Hitoshi does nothing but tell me to get back in the dating game," You rolled your eyes, and Bakugo laughed at you a little bit.

"How long has it been since you've been on a date if Dead Eyes is making jokes about it?" Bakugo was half teasing, and half curious what the answer was.

"Oh don't you start asshole, I have been raising our kid," You laughed, a genuine laugh. A laugh that made Bakugo's heart do some kind of internal flip. He smiled softly at you.

"You said our kid," He whispered, and you blushed a little.

"Our kid who is staring in here trying to figure out what's wrong," You laughed, pointing towards Haru who now had an adorable pout on his face. You climbed out of the car and ran towards him, picking him up and spinning him all crazy like. Bakugo smiled as he watched you two together. Realizing that all he ever wanted in life was right here, and in his reach again.

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

tagging all of the people who replied to hidden secrets part one <3

there is going to be a part three, and i promise for everyone who asked for bakugo suffering.. it is coming because i am feeling evil >:]

@girl-who-likes-cold-bois , @leximoron , @shyonigirichan , @tspice283 , @heyomie , @beigeunburdened , @xoxo-teddybear , @silentw-lkr , @semhal , @justmewoo , @jazzylove , @nolimitsam , @da1chisjuicywatermelons , @ayoooooooooooo

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fic #katsuki x reader #reader insert mha #bakugo angst

[inkykeiji]

Many sad thoughts running through my head but I can imagine Dabi having trust issues as you and the other anon saying. Him being afraid of getting left behind. I feel like he would say “I didn’t mean to say I love you” at some point because that’s a type of vulnerable he doesn’t want to be but it’s just one of many thoughts

AHHHHHHHH anon anon why must u hurt me like this?????? pls my whole heart just broke at this and i uhhhhh wrote 1.7k words about it,,,

❅ cw: soft dabi, angst, rly sappy ❅

It seems to happen at the most random of times. It isn’t like the movies, isn’t ever after some profound incident or momentous occurrence shared between the two of you—no, it’s always right after the most mundane things; after he catches you brushing your teeth in a cute matching set of panties and a tank top, sticking out your tongue at him, mouth full of foamy white toothpaste; after he finds you curled up on the couch buried under a fluffy blanket, nothing more than a lump and a head as your eyes rapidly scan the pages of the book in front of you, entirely absorbed in whatever world it’s built for you; after he walks into the kitchen to see you by the sink washing a few dishes, hips swaying and head nodding as you hum along to whatever song is blasting through your headphones.

But God, does it hit him like a motherfucking bus every single time, punches him in the stomach without warning, knocks the breath straight out of him.

He’s usually good at keeping it to himself, usually able to swallow it back down when those three little words begin to creep up his throat, dancing on the back of his tongue and restricting his breathing.

But eventually, he messes up.

You had started it, right after you had finished sprinkling the pizza stone with some flour while he was rolling out the dough, wiping your powdery fingers down his t-shirt, then swiping a thumb across his cheekbone, leaving a streak of white flour painted in its path, a little mischievous smile on your face and glint in your eyes.

He retaliates immediately, grabbing a pinch of flour from the bag and flicking it right in your face.

“Dabi!” you gasp, but your shoulders are shaking with silent laughter as you wipe at your face, fingers only managing to leave more strokes of the substance instead of clearing it. Your hand dives into the bag, grasping a handful of flour, inhaling deeply—enough to expand your entire chest—before blowing air out of your mouth, casting tiny, thick explosions of white at him, speckling his shirt and dusting his inky hair.

“Oh, you little brat,”

And, fuck, you look so goddamn beautiful, giggles ringing out around the room, flour strewn in your messy, tousled hair, smears of it across your cheeks and neck, sprinkled on your clothes, eyes bright and breathing laboured with exhilaration as you daintily leap away from him.

They’re bubbling up in his chest, those three stupid little words, climbing up, up, up his throat to settle on his tongue, light and sweet, floating in his mouth like candy floss and melting on his tongue only to be resurrected by another one of your giggles, or playful yelps, or squeals of his name.

And he’s too preoccupied to remember to swallow them down, to chew and chomp on them until he’s crushed them into a thousand tiny pieces as he chases you around the kitchen while you throw clouds of flour at each other, too enraptured by the soft, cute, precious sounds he’s endlessly pulling from you, too hellbent on hearing more, a man possessed.

Because he hasn’t laughed like this in ages, isn’t sure he’s ever laughed like this in his entire life, and they just slip out, when he finally catches you, chest heaving a bit from the thrill of it all as large hands curl around your shoulders.

“God, I love you,”

They’re muttered softly, just a huff of breath, really, blanketed by his laughs and yours, and you nearly miss them.

Nearly.

And then, everything stops. Your laughs abruptly cut off, and he wishes he’d have missed the sharp intake of breath you inhale through your mouth, lips parted slightly, wide eyes staring at him as your body freezes up, going rigid in his grasp, feet fused to the floor.

He stops, too, lets go of you so quickly you’d think your skin burnt his palms through the thin material of your shirt, sapphire eyes growing wide—wider than you’ve ever seen them before—as his mind catches up with his mouth, stumbling a few steps back from you.

He wants to say something, anything, but his voice is caught in his chest, fading into pathetic squeaks of breath any time he tries to force a few words out. And it aches, heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage, breathing shallow—almost ceased completely—as he stares unblinking at you, sharp, tingling anxiety flooding his veins.

And you—well, you’re staring at him with this look in your eyes, something that he can’t decipher, and it makes his stomach lurch. It’s a look he’s never seen before, your eyes shining as you gaze at him, almost glittering as you stare at him, unmoving, unbreathing, unexplainable. Are you upset? Angry? Disgusted? Stunned? A combination of all four? None at all?

The fact that he can’t tell, that he doesn’t know, when he prides himself on being able to read others so insanely well, ignites flames of anger that alight his entire body, right to the tips of his fingers and his toes, blazing straight through the anxiety and simmering in his chest, eyes hardening as they glare back at you.

A beat passes, your ears ringing from the thick, tense silence draped over the room, and then he’s pushing past you roughly with a choked snarl that sounds a little like a mix between a sob and a growl, and storming out of the kitchen.

He’s cut off all communication entirely, has been ignoring you for a few days now, only leaving his bedroom out of absolute necessity and refusing to answer any of your countless texts that have been collecting on his lockscreen, refusing to even touch his phone. He doesn’t want to see what you have to say, desperately tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care, that he isn’t scared of what your messages might reveal, isn’t terrified of that impending rejection he’s so sure is lurking on the horizon.

But there’s only so long he can keep avoiding you before you finally catch him in the kitchen, just past three in the morning, fixing himself a late-night snack.

“Oh, thank God,”

He whirls around at the sound of your voice, cobalt eyes gaping for a moment before narrowing into sharp slits an instant later.

“Dabi, listen—”

“No,” he growls, eyes flashing. “You listen, I don’t want to fucking talk about it, alright?”

Leaping in front of him, you block his path, prohibiting him from leaving the kitchen and speaking quickly. “Yeah? Well I do!”

“I don’t care,” he spits viciously, the ache throbbing deep in his chest—at the very core of his body—reminding him otherwise. “There’s nothing to talk about, anyway! It’s not like I meant them,”

And that—that gets you to stop, tripping a little over your own feet as you stumble back like he’s physically slapped you, a soft, hurt little whimper getting caught in the back of your throat as tears rapidly pool in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“Wh-What?”

He glares down at you, molars grinding together as his nose twitches.

I didn’t mean to say I love you.

What a pathetic fucking sentence—it’s almost laughable, the corners of his lips quirking up in a sardonic little grin. Your breath hitches, and his shoulders tense at the sound.

‘You aren’t supposed to know I love you’ is much more accurate, his mind sneers at him. Coward. Fucking coward.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says, though his voice is beginning to quiver, trembling hands curling into tight fists in an effort to stop it, short nails biting into the flesh of his palm as the skin stretched taut over his knuckles turns bone white.

“Didn’t mean what?” you whisper, glistening tears finally spilling over and streaming down your cheeks, leaving gleaming trails of salt water behind them. “Say it, Dabi,”

He’s got his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head, knows if he opens them, if he looks at you, that he’ll break, shatter into a thousand pieces, split himself open at the very core of his body and bare his entire soul to you.

“Look at me,” you demand softly.

His jaw flexes once, slowly exhaling out his nose.

“Dabi, look at me,” a pause. “Please?”

“No.”

“W-Why?” the word escapes your lips in a little whine, broken up by your sniffles.

You know why.

But it’s those little half-sobs, the ones that keep catching painfully in your chest, that do it, interspersed with your soft whimpers as you plead with him—please, open your eyes, just look at me for a second, please!

Unable to stand it any longer, his lids finally rise, slowly revealing sparkling sapphire, glowering at you, his harsh gaze protected by a thin shield of water.

He hates this, hates not having control over his own fucking body, over his own fucking thoughts, hates the unfamiliarity of it all, of the unpleasant fluttering in his stomach and burning in his throat, swallowing thickly past the hard lump that’s formed, constricting his breathing.

Revolting, his inner voice snarls at him. You’re weak, letting some stupid little girl get to you like this, as if you even—

Your touch silences the voice, cutting it off midsentence, his whole body flinching at the soft, small hand resting so tenderly against the curve of his face, subconsciously nuzzling his cheek into your palm a second later, eyes slipping shut again.

“Dabi,” you begin, and something has changed. You no longer sound hurt, no longer sound wounded, your voice gentle and—

No. No, no, no, this can’t be happening to him right now. Panic grips his heart, puncturing it with its claws, sending blistering, sharp pain searing through his chest and slicing him open, raw and vulnerable.

“Please, don’t,” he whispers, words tumbling from his lips without his permission, voice frail, fragile, broken.

Don’t. He doesn’t want to hear them, doesn’t need to hear them, can’t bear to hear them—not if they’re false, fake, uttered out of misplaced pity and sympathy.

“I love you, too,”

A pathetic hiccup gets caught in his throat and he chokes on it, chest stuttering as he shakes his head, lids clenching tightly against the unfamiliar sting of tears, lips pressed together firmly to stifle the tiny distressed sounds that keep crawling up his throat, trying to escape.

There’s no way, she’s lying, how could she ever—

“Yes,” you whisper, thumb caressing his jaw. “I love you, too,”

#dabi x reader #dabi #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi angst #dabi fluff #???? just BARELY #TW SOFT DABI #AHHHHHH anon i am screaming endlessly into the void #sweet anon 🥺 #clari gets mail

[bontenten]

Sleeping Beauty

Pairing: Shirabu x f!reader WC: 5.6k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairy tale retelling, incest, dubcon/noncon, drugs (sleeping pill), somnophilia, abusive past relationship, implied rape (not Shirabu), panic attack, victim-blaming, hero-complex with a bit of god-complex, hints of yandere, uhh medical malpractice, Shirabu’s bangs

Summary: The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. Shirabu will do everything he can to keep you in a safe haven where you can freely dance with your prince once upon a dream.

A/N: This is a part of the whorehouse intoxicated collaboration, rest of the pieces of this toxic journey can be found here! Thank you Ria and Angel for helping beta <3 Love you both so much.

Unofficial bgm: Once Upon a Dream & Once Upon a December 

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers, pulling you back by a handful of hair. You feel a blanket of pain shoot across your scalp. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

"G-get away from me!" 

You thrash and kick your legs wildly hoping something will land. The moment you hear a pained grunt and feel his grip loosen, you scramble up to your feet and run. Your shoes grate against wet cement as you take off. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you will your legs forward one after another. The caw of birds seem to act as a beacon leading you through the twists and turns of the terrain.

A left turn here, two blocks straight. Past the corner store and beyond the stoplight. Three blocks. Right turn. Two Blocks. Five steps away. Four...Three..Two...Safety...

----

"In the forest, the princess played with a lot of animal friends. She grew up there in the cottage with three fairies looking after her."

Thunder claps and lightning strikes outside.

"It's so loud Kenjirou-nii!" you cry, burying yourself into Shirabu's arms.

"Shh, I'm here," Shirabu coos, rocking you back and forth until your sobs subside. "One day, the princess was singing with the songbirds..."

Shirabu begins to recount the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty to you, slowly easing your mind away from the turbulence outside.

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

You shake your head and jump again when the thunder claps over the roof of the house.

"It's okay, I'm right here. Big brother’s always going to protect you."

"Like the prince protecting the princess?"

"Yes, exactly. You're always my princess, now go to sleep. I'll wake you when the sun's up.”

After a while, you calm down and slowly drift into sleep with your breaths evening out. Shirabu pulls the covers over both of you and enters sleep as well.

The winds continued to howl outside the window...the branches tapping...tapping against the window...tap...tapping…

----

Shirabu Kenjirou opens his eyes. He had just fallen asleep while studying for the third time that night. There is no use staying at the library if he is going to treat it as a hotel; he’ll be better off going home first. He yawns and stretches his neck, then packs his bags to return to his apartment. There are few students left in the building at this ungodly hour. Dark clouds loom overhead and the air is filled with the pitter patter of autumn rain hitting cement. Shirabu zips up his coat, opens his umbrella, and walks into the dark.

You would have been so frightened by this sort of weather, whimpering under your blankets, counting sheep with shaky breaths. Just like how you did in that dream of his earlier.

While growing up, Shirabu hadn't cared all that much about anything else considering he spent most of his time with his studies or playing volleyball. Although there was you, his little sister, he figured you had your little bubble anyway. But on a stormy night, you teetered down the hall after finding your parent’s room locked. Afraid and sleepy, you looked for comfort elsewhere and arrived at Shirabu’s room.

Shirabu had been most irritated and decided to shoo you out with strings of curses and profanities, but he couldn’t. The sight of your form huddled right outside his bedroom, with young eyes pleading for him took hold of a bit of humanity in Shirabu’s heart. So, he let you into his room, a safe haven, and eventually a world that was composed of only the two of you against the rest of the world.

Shirabu has known for a long time that you are the most brilliant, precious, and purest thing he’ll ever encounter. Always perfect. Forever unsullied. 

There are many things that Shirabu wants to shield you from. If he can secure one more hour of innocence, one more day, one lifetime, he’ll do so without a moment of hesitation. The real world is unlike the fairy tales that you hear about while growing up. 

The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. There isn’t a handsome prince the princess meets in a forest. No color changing cake. No kiss of love. In the real story, the princess is put into an endless slumber and has her virginal body taken by some unknown beast of a king, used like a rag for his carnal pleasure. When he leaves, the sleeping girl is then forgotten like trampled daisies under the hooves of horses. And she will wake to find her womb bulged with bastard life as a result of the damnation. The stretches clawing around the navel as permanent reminders that nothing will wash him from her.

The real world is dark. Horrible. Wretched. Dirty. Filled with suffering. That is why he, Shirabu Kenjirou, responds to the call to action and enters a life of service. In his heart he yearns to save and help, even if just a little, by becoming a prince with a white coat. He will not give up trying to salvage pieces of humanity he’ll touch, and in the process, carve out a haven, a little forest with a cottage, for his dearest sister to safely live in.

It has been a while since he last heard from you. Partly his own fault, really. Ever since Shirabu entered university and then medical school, the number of times you two would meet up dwindled. The hours on the phone became texts and soon after, communication vanished into mostly silence.

You are in university now, grown up and stepping into the real world, but that doesn't mean you are no longer his little sister. And because you are the one and only, Shirabu feels that he should try to do a better job as an older brother and check-in with you to see how you are doing. So, Shirabu takes out his phone that’s still on silent after studying.

27 missed calls from Sister 

Shirabu pauses in his tracks and returns the call. Cars zoom by on the streets while he waits for the line to connect. 

He was right, you must have been frightened.

The first call doesn’t connect, so Shirabu immediately tries the second time. You pick up on the third attempt.

"It's me, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up earlier."

"K-Kenjirou-nii..." your voice weakly translates over the speaker. 

Shirabu presses the phone closer to his ear and turns up the volume. "Where are you now," he demands. "At school?"

"...Your place..." Your voice sounds so dangerously faded, like petals beaten to the ground from the rain.

Shirabu bolts. His apartment is just a couple blocks away. Around the corner just up ahead. Shirabu makes a sharp turn and splashes through a puddle. 

"Stay...on the phone with me," he urges, paying no mind to his soaked shoes and socks.

You nod in understanding, as if he’ll hear your action.

"I'm almost there okay, almost."

Shirabu isn’t lying. A few moments later you hear the frantic footsteps coming closer to you. The stomping noises make your skin crawl, but the familiar face of your brother melts those fears away. He appears with his wet bangs stuck to his face and his shoulders heaving up and down. It’s him, your niichan, your prince finally here.

You scramble up and dive into his open arms, in relief that you are safe at last, as you finally allow tears to mix with rain.

"I was so scared. I missed you so much, Kenjirou-niichan," you sob into Shirabu's wet coat. "Where were you, where were you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm here now, I'm sorry," Shirabu apologizes, "Let's go inside first, alright? We’re both drenched.”

----

Under the bright lights of the living room, Shirabu gets a better look at you. You catch his discerning eyes studying you up and down, visually tracing the markers of your demise. That’s when you crack.

“Kenjirou-nii...the real world, the world is a horrible place. I trusted him, you know? I trusted that man.”

Foolish and stupid, Shirabu wants to say. It’ll be easy to simply yell at you.

Shirabu is not someone without a temper. He was quite known for it back in his high-school days. The bruises, the scars that did not heal well. Shirabu reminds himself to keep his composure, especially in front of you. He’s to be a doctor. He’s to be a protector, a savior. And with the training he already has so far, Shirabu knows he’s already as good as any board certified, licensed white-robed saint. He just needs to do what he’s meant to do. Heal. Clean. Purify.

After listening to your brief tale, Shirabu tells you not to worry about anything else tonight other than take a hot shower and get some rest. He gives you a reassuring smile and sends you off to the bathroom with towels and a large t-shirt.

While you wash-up and lose your thoughts piecing together the messy events of the night, Shirabu paces in the living room after he changes his own wet clothes. Nevermind the medical books he still needs to pour over, all Shirabu wants to do right now is track down the culprit and stick a scalpel through his socket. No, that’s just too easy. That bastard deserves something much more horrible, a slow and patient torture, a death within grasp but just out of reach. As if agreeing with Shirabu’s thoughts, your phone on the coffee table lights up. Shirabu picks up the device and watches the notifications pop-up.

Shirabu sees an unknown number call you. He doesn’t pick up, letting the phone ring while he reads the numbers across the screen and commits them to memory. The phone calls stop and an onslaught of texts follow; some coherent and others far from decipherable. There are messages of broken apologies and confessions of persistent love. Requests for you to go back to him. Shirabu scoffs at the language.

Shirabu continues to wait with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. How dare the man behind that accursed number treat you, his little sister and princess, in such a foul manner. This beast who stole from you. Who is the reason behind the tainting of your now sullied innocence. 

Finally after a few minutes of silence, the screen lights up with a series of curses and condemnation that show the man’s true colors. A morphed beast due to your lack of response. Shirabu scrolls through the list of notifications again with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. 

"You will pay," Shirabu seethes, taking a knife from the kitchen and ramming the sharp end straight into the device glass. The phone buzzes desperately and goes dark. You have no use for that phone anymore after all of this anyway, and the cursed number is already memorized by Shirabu for his own purposes.

----

Shirabu’s room is tidy. The two bookshelves on either side of the table are filled with books, photos, and many other accolades. That’s your older brother alright: perfect, proper, always right. Always right about everything, except one thing. The world you know really isn’t the wonderland he told you about growing up. Not at all. 

You bury your face into Shirabu's pillows and will yourself to sleep. You are safe here in his bed. It’s a haven...safely tucked in a forest. You are in a forest. The trees and the breeze. Songbirds are singing. 

You can dance here, twirl about...safe...free…

The trees melt.

Birds squawk and screech, scampering away…

Ink engulfs you....swallowing you whole

Falling...falling…

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

NO! you try to scream. You can’t, the weight on your chest sinks you deeper, only silence is uttered...choked…

Wake up.

Wake up.

"Wake up!"

Your eyes fly open and you see him. Him. A blood curdling shriek finally tears through your throat and you thrash. "Getawaygetawaygetaway! NO!"

"It's me, hey, it's me. You're okay, you're safe." Shirabu’s eyes widen with worry at your outburst, but gives you ample space to breathe and compose yourself.

This familiar voice. It does not belong to him. It’s definitely not him.

"...Kenjirou-nii?" you ask quietly. The shadow is backlit from light coming in through the door and your vision is still fuzzy from the nightmare.

A tender hand closes around yours. "Shhh, it's okay, you're okay now. It was a bad dream, you're safe. You're safe. I'm here."

Cold sweat runs down your temples. Your breath is fast and shallow.

"Follow me, okay. Breathe in..." Shirabu takes a deep breath. You follow his voice and movement as if they are lanterns guiding you through a maze. "And breathe out. Good, you're doing great. Breathe in...and out..."

You feel your mind slowly beginning to clear with each inhale and exhale. Finally, you see Shirabu clearly again. You can smell the scent of his body wash from him. The texture of the blanket rubs against your fingertips. You’re here in Shirabu’s room. Safety. Haven. 

"I'll be right back," Shirabu tells you, before leaving you for a moment and going towards the bathroom. He opens the medicine cabinet, pops out a few white pills from a box.

"Here," he says holding out the small tablets in the middle of his palm. The off-white seems to almost glow in the dark.

"It's zolpidem, a sleeping pill I sometimes take for insomnia. It'll help you for tonight, and then we'll get you something else tomorrow that'll work better."

You look at the pill and then at Shirabu. Shirabu is someone you love and trust with all your heart. His embrace is your anchor and haven when the rest of the world has turned a blind eye. He’s your brother. One and only. There’s no reason not to trust him.

"I won't see him will I?"

"No," Shirabu affirms. The pills don't really manipulate dreams, but if reassuring you can placebo sweet dreams, then what harm really is there? He didn’t pass Ethics with top marks for nothing.

Shirabu gently presses the pill body against your lips and you part them, allowing the small object to slip through. He feeds another and you open your mouth obediently. You look at Shirabu’s eyes which are fixated on the way your lips wrap around his three fingers.  Kenjirou-nii’s lashes are so nice and pretty, you think. 

One gulp of water later, and you feel nothing but a cold sensation traveling down your throat and disappearing into your belly.

"It'll take about half an hour, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," Shirabu says. He supports your back and gently lowers you back into the comforts of the plush mattress. Shirabu will surely carry the same attentiveness and care when he becomes a full-fledged doctor. You are sure of it. The big brother you grew up with has truly grown up and matured. But no matter how much he changes or how much you mess up, he’ll always be your big brother.

"Can you lie down next to me again, like when we were young?"

An innocent request from a patient-in-need. Shirabu complies and lies down next to you.

"I remember when we were young, I would make you dance with me to live out my princess dreams. You remember?”

Afternoons next to the stereo, crayons scattered on the floor. The smell of something baking in the kitchen. Shrieks and laughter in the living room. Even though Shirabu would be mildly annoyed at first, he found humoring your imagination to be a pleasant and soothing experience. Even he was sometimes whisked away from textbooks into a magical forest that was just you and him. The stress and burdens of everything else all seem so much lighter on his shoulders when you’re simply just there.

"Of course I remember, silly."

You hum softly and continue waiting for the medicine in your bloodstream to make its way through your body.

"Do you...remember the sleeping beauty story you would always tell me?"

"Yea?"

You pause for a moment before quietly asking, "Kenjirou-niichan, why did you lie to me?"

Shirabu does not respond and only glances over at you, eyeing your closed lids. Closed though they may be, the tiny beads of glimmering tears are beginning to emerge from between the lashes and trail down your cheeks.

"There is no prince, Kenjirou-nii...no prince for me, no one...niichan...," you mumble between your breaths. The drug is starting to take its effect, ushering your mind into another dimension far away from hurt and pain. It swallows you like a pit of ink, sinking you deeper and deeper...

----

Kenjirou-nii, why did you lie? Earlier, Shirabu felt his breath hitch when you asked that. 

He calls out your name softly, brushing over your cheeks, and listening to your soft breathing for a good while to make sure you are in fact asleep. At long last, maybe this is a good dream.

A lie? No! Not a lie, Shirabu wants to tell you. For you, his dearest sister, who only ever deserves happiness, in the rawest and truest form. You are supposed to have a life of others giving gifts of love, never having to offer anything of your own.

Shirabu feels his blood boil once more at the thought of that man who stole your innocence away. The one who took your body for his own carnal pleasures. The one who dared to steal you from him, Shirabu Kenjirou. If Shirabu's nails are not kept in immaculate condition for his profession, no doubt, his grip would be drawing blood from his palms.

Those marks and scars across your skin. Shirabu traces his finger down your neckline and along your arms...

Your head turns from left to right and you manage to shrug the big collar of the t-shirt off your shoulder. Shirabu can see, under the glow of moonlight from the cleared night sky, a nasty mark. A permanent mark. And before he realizes it, his fingers are already traveling over, tracing along and testing out the patterns and bumps.

Shirabu feels his chest burn beyond the anger and fury. Guilt. Where was he all this time when you were suffering? Why hadn't you just called him then? Anguishing thoughts of his little sister writhing in pain under that beast's grasps tear Shirabu apart. Did you cry? Were you scared? All these years studying for what? For what noble purpose is Shirabu trying to pursue if he can’t even save those closest to him?

Shirabu continues to search for any other marks or discolorations that are splayed across your skin like a map. It is what it is now. But Shirabu still has his calling. He is a man who answers to a life of service and healing: a prince in a white coat. No matter what happens, even if you’re tainted now, you’ll still be his little sister.

Even if your naivety and stupidity got you into the mess in the first place. Of course, why didn’t you listen to your brother’s warnings and stay in a safe haven like a good girl? Stay in your room and study for your future like a good student? Like him? Why did you think running off for fun, enjoying “youth and freedom” like the other degenerates would be a good idea?

Shirabu grits his teeth. Look at you now, damaged and past the point of no return, used. Injured and ill. Still, he needs to get the full story first, and see where else you might possibly be hurt. A complete diagnosis needs to come first. After the messages from the man, Shirabu is all the more certain that there are more clues left, and he needs evidence. He needs to know. The comforter is pulled away and careful hands examine the lines of your palms.

Once upon a time, you grabbed Shirabu’s hand and tried to use the methods of schoolyard palm-reading on him. You even exclaimed, “Kenjirou-niichan, this line means you’ll live a long life! And we can be together forever because my life line is really long too!”

Shirabu smiles at the memory and presses a kiss to the center of your palm. It must have been so painful, how could you have possibly endured? But you did and you survived. You are so brave. 

Probing fingertips trace across your collarbone and push the fabric of the large t-shirt up to reveal your torso. Shirabu blinks, realizing that this is now the body of a fully matured woman. You take a deep breath in your sleep from the cold air running across your exposed breasts. Shirabu can see the nipples perk up from the chill and hesitantly touches the bud with a hint of academic curiosity.

“Mmm, that tickles...” you giggle softly. Your hand pushes Shirabu's off and scratches the same spot he just traced, fondling your own breast briefly before letting go and continuing to sleep. Even grown up now, still the same adorable little sister.

Shirabu lets himself tease your nipples and knead the soft flesh of your breasts, toying around and watching your cute little expressions. Sometimes you’ll respond again and paw the tickling hands away. It’s fun, like playing a little game.

But when he lets his eyes wander down, Shirabu’s eyes narrow. Below the breasts, on either side of the waist, Shirabu sees damning marks of deep purple turning into a disgusting yellow. Like cursed claw marks. Shirabu hesitantly presses on the bruise, watching the color transform under his touch. He stops immediately when you begin to whine in pain. Carefully, Shirabu presses a kiss on these markings too, just like any other little injury you sustained in the past. A kiss so the pain flies away.

Foolish, foolish girl. Naive princess. Why did you let this happen to yourself? In the future, don’t run anymore. Stay here where it’s safe. 

There is just one place left Shirabu did not examine yet, a hidden spot that is supposed to be locked away that someone else discovered. Shirabu looks down at the dark lace panties obstructing his view like gates of a castle. It’s a poor “keep out” message; if anything it entices anyone who sees it to come in. A tempting invitation to see what’s behind.

Shirabu allows his clean fingers to easily slip through and begin a thorough investigation through the soft folds of flesh. His fingertips dip into a pool of wetness. He furrows his brows. When did this happen? 

Why are you wet? His eyes focus on your sleeping face that still has a relaxed smile. What are you dreaming about that makes your body like this? Shirabu drags the fingers covered with your slick to circle your clit. In response your thighs clamp and twitch. So sensitive, still inexperienced, even if you’re sullied. 

Shirabu slides the soaked panties off and pushes your thighs apart so he can continue his examination. That person must have touched this area too, his fingers have been here, and then…plunged his fingers into you like so. Your body trembles as Shirabu’s two fingers probe in, fully examining your inner anatomy. Soft, warm muscles clamp tightly around his digits and try to stop them from entering further. It’s for your good and his knowledge. He pushes deeper into you, dragging alongside the bumps and ridges of your walls.

You whine loudly and arch your back when Shirabu’s fingers find a sweet spot. Your head shifts on the fluffy pillows.

“Did you like that? Did that feel good?” Shirabu asks, probing your hole once more. As if in agreement, your body twitches again and your hips automatically roll against the palm, pressing your sensitive clit into the surface. Your breathy sighs are soft and sweet, unlike any other sound Shirabu has heard from you. It’s like a spell that enchants Shirabu and beckons for him. He shudders as he feels his cock responding to each noise coming out from between your lips.

It’s good, something feels so good. Under the sunlight, you feel warmth pooling throughout your body. There are tingles in the soles of your feet, like grass tickling skin while running around barefoot. Your body feels so light and relaxed. It’s warm and you’re not in this forest alone. The shape of a prince appears. You know he’s a prince because his voice is gentle and his touch feels safe.

If this feels good, it’s only because this is an act of love. If this makes you happy, it’s because it’s love. If it’s love, it’ll fill the empty pools of hurt. And if you’ll be whole again, you’ll heal. Shirabu makes up his mind and caresses your cheeks tenderly, So beautiful. Always beautiful. A sleeping beauty. His hand reaches to the waistband of his pants.

The prince rests his hand on your hips and excitement jolts through your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile back.

Shirabu freezes the moment he feels your arms wave into the air and reach for him. The sneaky fingers run across his skin.

"Dance..with me," you slur before falling back into silence.

The alarm washes away when he confirms you are still sound asleep.

"Are you dreaming of your prince?" Shirabu asks while tearing open a condom packet. Medical safety. He should have worn gloves earlier too, if he wasn’t already too entranced. "Dancing? Then I'll dance with you."

Forever. I'll be your prince, my sweet darling.

Shirabu runs the length of his hardened cock along your glistening slit. Rather than take, rather than pillage and steal...Shirabu will give. Replace the gross markers of pain with soft fleeting kisses. Replace the innocence stolen with love given unconditionally. Shirabu will give you all the love you deserve and more.

Shirabu’s fingers weave into your delicate ones, the palms join together, and your fingertips automatically lock with your niichan’s. It’s the starting position for a waltz in the forest, once upon a dream.

The man takes the initiation, the leading step. Shirabu closes the gap, sinking his length into your sweet embrace in a fluid and wet squelch. You respond, digging your nails and tightening your grip on his hands. Your other arm hugs around your partner, your niichan, pulling his body close against yours. Your blank eyes flutter open briefly to look straight at the shadow of Shirabu. Of course, you don’t see anything, you’re actually in a warm forest shyly gazing at your prince. Shirabu almost thinks that he woke you up, but you only let out a quiet moan before your body relaxes again.  

Shirabu groans and rests his cock in your warm and tight embrace. This is the way it should be, how it ought to be done. No one else can lead you in this dance the way he can. The way he will. This is not the self-fulfilling king stealing the princess’s virginal body for his own pleasure. This is the loving prince who loves and gives selflessly. Your big brother knows you the best, knows how you’ll respond, knows how you’ll like it. Shirabu slowly draws himself out and thrusts back in.

The prince presses himself so close to you, and you inhale sharply. During the waltz, you always have to maintain body contact with your partner. You feel his breath on your cheeks, and you’re sure he can feel your hammering heartbeat. The intimacy builds in the tender but secure hold. The steps are quick but the movements are not violent. It’s just enough that the heat stirring in your core spreads throughout your body.

Breaths become more labored and raspy into the act. Shirabu sees your face morph into bliss as he continues his pace and rocks his hips into you. His own brows furrow as Shirabu feels his grip over rationality falling apart with each thrust. Each flutter of your walls against him only invites him to come in deeper, farther. Harder. 

“...K-Kenjirou-nii...,” you softly cry out.

Your honeyed voice is a thick syrup trapping Shirabu, coaxing him. It’s like a melody inviting a weary traveler, a lost prince, in for rest. Your voice, your body, it’s tantalizing.

"Too good," Shirabu groans to himself. Why is it so good? You, his little sister, how? He looks down towards where he sees his cock, covered with your fluids, disappear into you. The thin latex barrier doesn’t stop how close the two of you are, Shirabu feels each clench and spasm around him. “My little sister, I didn’t know…” 

Shirabu can now understand just why that man did all that to you. Why that man wants to keep you by his side. Why he incessantly sends messages and tries to manipulate you back into their world.

It’s the only explanation, really, when you don’t even know how bewitching your body is. How enticing your voice is. Anyone would want to keep it as their own. Your warmth, your sweet, sweet hole. This cunt of yours is itself a safe haven. And Shirabu feels like he’s the one being made whole from you. It’s all because of you.

Each moan from you. Those gentle mewling cries, a witch’s spell, an incantation for addiction. That man is trying to manipulate you? How? When your whole existence manipulates everyone first, drawing them all in with the image of your unsullied purity.

Shirabu feels his impending release around the edge. His pace quickens and his thrusts meet with each of your twisting squirms. Your head tosses side-to-side on the pillow as your sleepy climax washes through.

Spin. Faster and faster in the forested ballroom. Twirl for the finale. You feel a dizzying jolt as the prince dips your body back. It’s a whirlwind of love. In your dream, the sunshine is so warm and growing so much hotter. It feels like you’re floating. So light and free. That prickling tickle in your feet is growing stronger until little fireworks set off across every corner of your body, filling you completely. The forest melts as the colors blend together in a dreamy painting. 

Euphoria, as Shirabu finishes spectacularly, clutching your sleeping body close to him in a messy ending pose. The final winds of the dead storm outside sound like a rumbling applause for this sinful waltz. He can hear his own pants and your shaky breaths mix into a fading duet. Shirabu lets himself bask for a moment, resting, entangled with you.

Everything makes sense now. He completely understands why the bastard king forces himself onto Sleeping Beauty. He completely understands why your allure is much too exquisite to pass on. Shirabu pulls out and carefully removes the condom, collecting the white essence you bewitched out from him into a little package with a tie. Dangerous little princess, that you are.

Even though Shirabu now fully understands the complete story after careful examination, there are still a few lines Shirabu will draw. One, that man has still committed a very grave sin, being the first to sample your purity, stealing that away from Shirabu? Damaging your flesh and skin? Unacceptable, he thinks as he tosses the used condom into the waste bin. A complete low-life who doesn’t know how to cherish. Punishment will be due.

Shirabu returns to the bed where your unconscious body is still sprawled between bunched sheets. His blank eyes study your spread legs and puffy cunt that’s still quivering every now and then. He taps his index finger against your sensitive clit. As if it is a magic button, your body briefly trembles on command. As if you are ready to enchant another unsuspecting traveler into your safe little haven. A little bit of fluid leaks out from your hole, presenting itself seductively. Welcome. 

Shirabu scoffs. And number two, you’ll be better off staying here with himself, your big brother. You’ll be safe here with a prince who knows best how to love you right, and give you the world. This is the way it should be; before you completely lose yourself into degeneracy and invite just about anyone into you. 

Those sleeping pills will be insufficient for the long-run. A different concoction while you are still healing from your terrible trauma will be needed. A cocktail of sorts that will target different needs. Yes. Shirabu files that thought away, putting it towards the top of his to-do list. There’s so many things he has to take care of. Too much pain in this world waiting for him to don white robes and be out there.

“But you’ll always come first on niichan’s list,” Shirabu whispers, slipping your panties back on and pulling the comforters over your body. He’ll never allow you to be sullied again. You’ll stay here in this safe haven, like a little cottage tucked away in the forest. Dream here. Find happiness with the only prince you need.

The first rays of dawn begin to brighten the sky, shooing away the cloak of night. The first songs from the birds announce the arrival of a new day. The morning light filters through the windows of the room, spilling over onto the bed and your quiet, unmoving form.

Time to wake up now, sleeping beauty.

#shirabu smut #shirabu x reader #shirabu kenjiro x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #tw:incest #tw somnophilia #tw yandere #tw drugging #tw dubcon #tw noncon #the intoxicated collab #emi.freshtea #🍵.shirabu

[parkers-gal]

yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭

wc: 1.7k ! <3

—

“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.

You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.

“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”

“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”

“Not to me, you aren't.”

“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.

“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”

“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”

“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”

“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”

“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.

You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.

In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.

Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.

Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.

The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.

You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.

Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.

It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.

It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.

“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”

You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”

As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.

“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.

“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.

“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.

“Mummy who’s this?”

“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.

You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.

Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.

“Is this…?

“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.

“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.

“Mummy, who’s that?”

“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”

“Who’s that man?”

“He’s… your daddy.”

“I thought… no daddy?”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.

“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.

You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.

“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”

“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”

Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”

want more? my masterlist.

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x pregnant!reader #dad!tom holland #dad!tom #dad!tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #tom holland request #tom holland fluffy #tom holland angsty

[ronnie-azumane]

Rebound

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader 18+

NSFW, IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

Warning: mentions of breakup, cunnilingus, 1 photo taken (nature of which is slightly nonconsensual), aftercare

A/N: So, uhh, these past few months have been wack in regards to my love life. I went from breaking off an almost 2-year long distance relationship, to proclaiming that I’m gonna have a hoe phase on Tinder, to actually meeting a guy who I actually like (who knew I would have a successful Tinder relationship?!?!)…….. soooooooo

ALSO-- this is my first (serious) smut I've ever written. Please be kind.

ALSO ALSO-- if this gets enough love, I might make this concept into a full-blown fic

You did everything right. You made time for him. You gave him gifts. You sent him both a good morning and a goodnight text every day. You fulfilled his needs, even when it didn't necessarily benefit you.

Or so you thought.

If you didn't answer that butt-dial from him and heard the pants and moans coming from his end, you would have lived happily in ignorant bliss. If you didn't go to check on him to see if he was ok, you wouldn't be in the predicament you found yourself in currently.

Now you find yourself, wrapped in blankets, crying on his neighbor's couch.

Your boyfriend would always complain about his next door neighbor Tetsurou Kuroo, how he would be the reason your boyfriend got in trouble with loud music and smoking with the landlord. However, despite your boyfriend's hatred of him, you grew close to the rooster head, becoming proper friends and not the girl who apologizes after every night she gets a little loud. He didn't approve of this friendship, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

Now that he's your ex, there is absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"So you walked in and saw him banging his coworker?" Tetsurou asked, placing a glass of cold water into your hand. Your body shook as you lifted the glass up to your lips to take a sip. You then set the glass down on the side table.

"Yes, and it was the one he told me not to worry about." you stuttered. You didn't care much for that coworker. She always seemed to weasel her way into your relationship. Date nights were cut short by her calling your [now ex] boyfriend to help her with a problem. He always seemed to be texting or calling her, and when you would ask why, he would just say 'work' and close his phone so you couldn't see. You would express your concern, but he would assure you that he only had eyes for you.

What bullshit.

Your wails of agony have since subsided to small sniffles. Your breathing was still rapid and without control, but for the most part you were calming down.

Then your phone went off, sounding a text tone that you had specifically saved for your now ex boyfriend.

As you reach for your phone, Tetsurou grabs a hold of it.

"Gimmie that," you whine.

"Password," Tetsurou demands.

"W-what? I'm not just gonna give-"

"Password!" Tetsurou demands even louder. Sighing, you tell him your password and he unlocks your phone. He reads over the text your ex sent you, talking about how you didn't know the whole story and scoffs. He taps on your phone a bit and gently tosses it on the couch cushion next to you as she sits himself down.

"Blocked him for you. He was going on about how you don't know the whole story and that this was the first and only time he messed up. Newsflash, I'm his neighbor, and the girl he has been with the last few weeks definitely wasn't you."

"Oh," you sniffle. So your suspicions were correct. This had been going on for quite a bit. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you asked Tetsurou.

"Well, honestly, I just put the pieces together this morning," Tetsurou replies. The walls are thin, so he could hear every gasp and moan that happened on the other side. He figured it was you, since you were his girlfriend after all. He would just turn on a show and watch it to tune out the love making on the other side of the wall. However, when he didn't receive the usual sorry note under the door that you would write, he knew something was up. The amount of times he would have to turn on his show wasn't going down, but the amount of the little notes he received was.

"You know, I don't think he ever loved me," you say, turning away from Tetsurou. "I honestly think he only liked the idea of me." The waterworks started to flow again.

"I tried so hard, you know? I know he didn't treat me the best, but I stuck with it because I thought he truly loved me," you sob into your hands. You smash your palms into your eyes as you cry out, as if you are trying to stop the tears coming out of your eyes. But they don't stop. If anything, they start to flow out faster.

"What did I do wrong?"

As soon as that question escaped your lips, Tetsurou pulled you into his lap and pressed you head against his chest. You cried even harder, balling his tear-soaked t-shirt in your clenched fists. He ran his nails across your scalp, lightly scratching it in an attempt to calm you down. Usually you would tell him to stop so as to not mess up your hair, but hair was the last thing on your mind at the moment. His other hand was rubbing your back, grounding you from the emotions racking your body at the moment.

"You did nothing wrong," he whispered over and over again in your ear, repeating until you calmed back down. He reached across from you and grabbed the glass of cold water and placed you off of his lap.

"Please drink up, I think you cried half of your water weight in the past 30 minutes alone," he joked, earning a small giggle from you. "I hate to leave you alone, but I'm going to change real fast and get you some bubble tea from that place down the street you like. Sound like a plan?" He asked, earning a nod from you.

With that, he stood up and left to go change and get some tea. You sat back on the couch and watched the door close shut. Now you were alone.

You had been in his apartment a couple times before, but now you were truly looking around at his décor. He didn't have much hanging on his walls, but he had a few pictures here and there. One was of his old volleyball team from high school. He stood in the middle with his red number 1 jersey sticking out for all to see that he was the captain.

Another picture he had on the wall was a picture of a small girl in his arms. After recalling a couple of conversations the two of you had, you remembered that he did have an older sister who had a daughter of her own. His niece.

Her short black hair was sticking up into two little pigtails, each decorated with a small pink bow. Her fluffy pink dress contrasted beautifully with the black dress shirt Tetsurou was wearing. Both of their smiles reached their ears.

He looked pretty good.

You sit there thinking, realizing only now that Tetsurou, the 'nasty neighbor' of your ex boyfriend, your friend, was pretty attractive. How come he didn't have a girlfriend of his own? Did he maybe swing the other way? You shook that thought out of your head when you remembered the stories he would tell of his high school sweetheart.

What happened to her?

While you're lost in thought, you don't hear the front door opening up.

"Here!" Tetsurou shouts, scaring the living daylights out of you. In one hand he's holding two cups of tea with the little tapioca balls at the bottom, and in the other are two straws. You sigh in relief as he sits down next to you, handing you your tea and straw.

"Tetsurou, what ever happened to that girl you dated in high school?" you ask as you stab the straw through the plastic.

"Oh, Alisa? It wasn't too brutal. Our futures were going in different directions and we just fell out of love," he shrugged as you sipped some tea and a few balls of tapioca.

The silence is deafening. Every time you glance at him, you shutter. 'How did I not see how hot he is earlier?' you scold to yourself.

The longer you look at him, the more you get worked up. Your eyes travel downwards to his neck. His Adams apple is sticking out, not too much, but just the perfect amount. They continue downward to his arms, which are framed beautifully by the cotton t-shirt he's wearing. His veins twist across his muscular arm and down to his hands.

Oh god his hands! The roughness of the veins popping out contrast with the smooth, even coloring of his skin. light callouses dot his palms, but for the most part, his hands are soft. perfect for caressing-

Not paying attention, you start to choke on a tapioca pearl. Coughing and wheezing, and with a little help from Tetsurou, you get it out of your windpipe. You pull the straw a little higher to avoid any more tapioca at the moment to catch your breath.

"You alright?" Tetsurou asks, and you nod a little too frantically. He squints his eyes and stares at you for a little bit, seeking confirmation that you're actually ok and not lying to him. Pursing your lips together in a sort-of smile, he takes that as the confirmation he needs and moves back to his drink.

The way he sips on the straw, how his soft, supple lips form around the straw and suck. The way the tea he's drinking dribbles down his chin just a little bit. The way he moves his thumb over his chin to wipe it up.

It shouldn't be getting you this worked up.

"So, is there anything you want to do now?" Tetsurou asked, reaching for the remote as if to imply that they should watch something on the TV. The way his arm flexes as he reaches across you.

You can't take it anymore.

"I want you to fuck me!" you blurt. As soon as the words left your lips, your hands shot up to cover your mouth.

Now it is his turn to choke on his tea. He drops the remote and it breaks apart on the wooden floor. Your hands migrate from your mouth to cover your face. This has to be the most embarrassing moment in your life.

"W-what?" Tetsurou asked, finally catching his breath. You keep your hands on your face, as if they are glued in place. The last thing you want is to look at him, much less in the eye.

"Ju-just ignore what I said! It's not important!" you frantically wave your hands around, hoping maybe they can help you fly away from the current situation.

Alas, you are merely human, and must suffer through the consequences of your actions.

Frantically, you shoot up from your seat, mumbling a string of farewells as you walk toward the door. However, you do not make it far, as you find your hand encapsulated in Tetsurou's as he yanks you back onto your spot on the couch.

"You can't just leave after saying something like that," Tetsurou mumbles. His ears are burning bright red while his cheeks are dusting a soft pink.

"Don't worry about it, I'll just download tinder and relive my frustrations there," you stutter, trying to stand up. However, under Tetsurou's grip and stare, your attempts are rendered futile. Fully realizing the situation, you sigh and throw your head back against the back of the couch.

"Fine," you mumble, blushing, "sorry for making you uncomfortable, I definitely did not mean to say that out loud."

Silence.

Unsure of what to do, you start to explain yourself.

"I'm just so frustrated, and I just wanted to... you know... get him back, like an eye for an eye type of deal," yo ramble on.

Tetsurou dropped his head into the palms of his hands, nodding his head left and right.

"And while you were gone, I kinda realized how attractive you were and i-"

"I never said I wouldn't, did I?" Tetsurou asked, not lifting his face out of his hands.

With that statement, the air is sucked out of your lungs. Your heart beats faster in your chest, while simultaneously wrapping itself tight within your body.

"No, uh, you don't have t-"

""Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to... for a while now," Tetsurou admitted, "So I'll do it, my only rule being that we won't go all the way today."

You press your fists into your plush thighs. "Why not? You literally just admitted that you were attracted to me," you ask.

"Because I don't want to give myself false hope."

"Why would fucking give y-" you tried to ask before Tetsurou interrupted your interruption.

"You just broke up with your long time boyfriend, a messy break-up I may add. Your emotions are all over the place. I really like you, (y/n), I just don't want to be your rebound. I want to be with you because you truly like me, not to get back at your shitty ex next door." He let out, like a breath held underwater.

"Oh," you whisper. He made a great point. What were your intentions right now? Was this all a ploy to get revenge on your ex? Did you actually like Tetsurou that way?

Did it really matter?

"So what?" you ask, stunning Tetsurou into silence.

Tetsurou swallows the lump in his throat and asks you to clarify.

"Well, there is a mutual attraction, and we both clearly want this, why don't we just go for it and see what happens?" you ask.

The pause is long and silent. Tetsurou’s eyes were looking everywhere but at you. Did he actually want this? Yes, but in this way? He took a glance in your direction and saw you still staring down at your tea, swiveling the ice around in circles.

You were definitely a sight for sore eyes in Tetsurou’s ever so humble opinion. The way your face was tinted the slightest red color made his heart melt. He would never forgive his neighbor for what he did to you, making your larger than life personality look small and meek.

Overwhelmed with feelings of both attraction and adoration, he simply couldn’t help himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, but after all this time of him secretly crushing on her from a distance, he just couldn’t hold out anymore.

He grabbed your face and turned it toward him, crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss became more feverish as the seconds passed. A simple peck turned into moments of locking lips, trying to taste each other.

His lips were thin, however soft, with the slight sting of mint chapstick tingling your tongue. You decided to take initiative and slipped your tongue out to taste his bottom lip. He took the signal and included his tongue in the dance, the two muscles stroking together as he grasped the hair on the back of your head and pulled you closer.

As the make-out session continued, the two of you started to position yourselves on the couch; you lying against the armrest and him balancing himself on top of you. Once in this position, his hands started to wander across your body.

Every curve of yours was not left without attention. His hands traveled from behind your head to your chest, from your chest to down your stomach, from your stomach to your thighs, and finally spread your thighs apart to gain access to your covered core, where you wanted to feel his hands the most.

His kisses started trailing south to the crook of your neck, moving from kissing to sucking as he started to rub your clothed slit. An airy gasp escaped your lips, enjoying all the sensations you were feeling at the moment. Once he was satisfied by the purple bruise left just above your collarbone, he started to sit up, causing you to whine from the loss of contact.

Your whining soon stopped however when you noticed him grabbing at your shorts, working to pull them down. As he started to pull down, your breath got caught in your throat, causing it to be held in. Flinging your shorts and panties behind him, he gently kissed your thigh and asked, “Do you still want this, you seem a little tense?”

“Yes!” you gasp a little too fast. His breath was so warm against your wet pussy, teasing you to the point of no return.

“Ok, you have to let me know if you get too overwhelmed or want to stop at any point,” he says before diving down. You are about to acknowledge him until a heavy gasp escapes your lips before you can give your confirmation.

Tetsurou didn’t hesitate going down on you. He simply couldn’t wait any longer. Simply pumping his fist wasn’t doing it for him anymore.

He started to kiss, flick, and suck at your clit, making you breathe harder with the rising pleasure. His movements were soft and light, but they were shaking your very core. He grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him more access.

His movement was simple, something you could easily replicate with your fingers and maybe a quality toy, but that didn’t change how it was working on you. Your heavy breaths turned into soft whimpers as the pleasure began to bubble up.

You were progressing nicely, but Kuroo didn’t think it was progressing fast enough. To remedy his frustrations, he rubbed his fingers against your wetness, slicking it up to start thrusting into you.

The anticipation of his fingers slipping into you made your whimpers louder. He switched up his mouth to sucking your clit between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue and slowly inserted a finger. He pressed the pad of his finger against the ceiling and started to thrust in and out, rubbing against the entirety of your g-spot softly.

This new sensation had you bucking your hips and bubbling over with pleasure, pretty much ripping the orgasm out of you. Tetsurou smiled as you rode out your orgasm, moaning and whimpering small vowel sounds.

The orgasm was nice, but Tetsurou knows you can be louder, he's definitely heard you get louder at least.

Before you can fully recover from your high, his lips reattach to your clit and insert two fingers into you. The moan that escaped your lips was loud and almost pornographic. He smirked, knowing your shit ex next store most likely heard it.

Although, he knew that the fun this round was only just beginning.

Instead of thrusting his fingers in and out, he started to press his fingers up against you, as if he was motioning for you to come here.

The new motion of his fingers mixed with his lips sucking and tongue flicking at your clit was causing you to sprint to the edge way too fast. You couldn’t hold back your moans by control alone, so you bit the back of your hand in an attempt to suppress the noise.

Tetsurou was having none of that today. Using his other hand, he rips your arm away from you, silently implying that he wants to hear how loud you were being.

You try to ground yourself by grasping the armrest behind you, although that doesn’t do much to stop yourself from the orgasm that's rising far too quickly.

Your moans are getting louder and louder as you get closer and closer. Tetsurou has you teetering on the edge as his movement gets faster and faster. Soon your coil snaps and you find yourself cumming harder than you ever have before.

You thrash your head side to side as your hips buck up toward his fingers. He removes his lips and fingers and starts to quickly rub his fingers back and forth on your clit as you ride out your orgasm, extending the peak longer than what you're used to.

As you start to once again come down from your high, you hear soft chuckling coming from Tetsurou. You look up to find his shirt soaking wet.

“Di-did i-i do that?” You ask, afraid of the answer.

“If you’re referring to the squirting, yes, you just did. Hard,” Kuroo smirks, causing your already flushed face to burst even more red in embarrassment. Instinctively, you hide your face behind your hands, as if you could magically disappear if you couldn’t see him.

“Pretty hot,” he mutters to himself before beginning to suckle on your inner thigh, allowing you to completely come down before going back at it. Beyond your blissful sighs, Tetsurou heard your phone buzzing in the background.

Blocked Number.

An evil smirk came to his face as a sinister idea popped into his mind. While you were blissfully unaware of your phone buzzing, Tetsurou opened your phone and unblocked your ex, just to see if he was reacting to the pretty sounds you were making.

And reacted, he did.

Countless messages flooded your phone after Tetsurou unblocked his number, with messages ranging from ‘come back, let’s talk baby,’ to ‘you better not be with Kuroo right now.’ The final message read, “I know that’s you at Kuroo’s apartment, you fucking bitch.”

“Tetsurou, what are you doing?” you ask, finally in grip with reality.

“Just giving your ex a bit of a show,” he replied, diving right back in.

Breathlessly, you grasp his bed head, trying to get a grip on your once again slipping reality. In the heat of the moment, he pushed your thighs down to each side, revealing your flushed pussy. While flicking his tongue on your clit once again, he snapped a selfie. In the frame was his face, smirking with his tongue out flicking your clit. To make the picture even better, your manicured hands were in view, gripping his hair in pleasure.

Perfect for a porn twitter account.

Tetsurou typed out ‘your loss, pal,’ and sent the text, blocked your ex’s number once again, and tossed your phone to the side, getting back to work, soon bringing you to your third and final orgasm.

After cleaning you up and bringing you a glass of water, Tetsurou snuggled up to you under a cozy blanket. As your endorphins went down, the pure dread of what your ex did came back.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N), do you regret what we did?” Tetsurou asked, the expression of pure concern expressed on his face.

“No, I’m just angry about this whole thing! Three years gone!” you shutter, trying to hold back tears. Tetsurou held you tighter.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered, brushing your hair out of your face.

For the next ten minutes, you were crying into his chest as he rubbed you back and whispered soothing words.

As you calm down and sip your water, Tetsurou breaks the silence saying, “We need to talk about what just happened and what we are.”

You don’t reply, instead, you stare off to the side past Tetsurou’s shoulder.

“I kinda like you, but I’m not sure,” you meekly reply.

“Understandable. I want you to sleep on the idea of us. After you think of it, I want you to call me. Then we can get dinner.”

Space is what she needs, and space is what Tetsurou is willing to give her.

“Sounds great, but can I stay a little longer?” you ask, nuzzling seemingly closer into his warmth.

“Stay as long as you need, sweetie.”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #tetsurou kuroo smut #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader smut #smut #lemon #do people still use lemon? #oh well im using it #cheating

[1kook]

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol  misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart. 

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jimin smut #park jimin smut #pjm #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #park jimin x reader #park jimin x reader smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #mine

[oikadori]

a/n: not me crying at 2am about an Oikawa edit, that was my twin sister not me at all...this is totally self indulgent so uhm...yeah. Hope you enjoy it tho!!

edit: i'm so sorry for reposting again but i really feel that the best exposure is int the first hours let's hope this time it stays 😔

Oikawa Tooru x fReader

Summary: in which you are tired of hearing how is never enough for Oikawa Tooru.

Genre: angst, fluffy end tho, established relationship

Now playing ⊳ King by Lauren Aquilina ; Next to me by Imagine Dragons

WC~2k

It had become part of your routine at this point, sitting on the couch for hours, staring bluntly at some program as you wait for your boyfriend to come home.

It was not the passion he has for volleyball that has you on a gloomy mood today. It was  not falling asleep on an empty bed as you heard the sounds of balls hitting the wooden floor coming from the speakers of his laptop in the living room, and it was not how  your throat becomes dry after you begged him to sleep.

But you were tired, that is the only way to express it, tired of feeling your heart clench at the way he neglects himself, at this point you didn’t even care if he neglected you, which wasn’t the case, but him.

Your phone always got texts from him, asking if you had breakfast, if you had lunch or simply saying a hello. He called you before coming home offering you to bring some sweet from that store you liked so much. But, when you asked him if he had a good lunch, those tests always seemed to get lost in his inbox.

Oikawa always gave you a smile as the same words came out of the lips that kissed you every morning.

“Don’t you want me to be the best, my love?”

That simple phrase always seemed to wrap your heart in a death cold no matter the sweetness in his tone, they made impossible for you to come with an argument that would make Oikawa’s stubborn head understand. Understand that he was slowly tearing himself up and hurting you in the process.  

However, none of that is what had you sitting on the couch right now, arms crossed over your chest and lips pressed together, but as soon as Oikawa crossed the door, he knew the exact reason.

“Y/N-chan? I thought you were going out with your friends today”, he drops the bag on the ground, the keys of your shared apartment hitting the floor in the process, “Shit”

Your eyes are trained on the way his face contorts as he reaches for the keys, making your heart sink.

“Anyways, how are you, cutie?”, Oikawa stands in his full height before displaying a closed-eye smile at you.

However, his trademark grin fades as he sees your brows furrowing together, the air suddenly charging with the accumulated tension.

“Is there something w–“

“You tell me”, when you look at his knee with inquiring eyes, Oikawa blinks before turning his face away from you.

“It is nothing”, his mouth twitches down, “I’m fine”

‘no you are not’

His answer only makes you sigh loudly as your mind goes back to the early hours of today, the scene that made your chest sting popping out.

Oikawa had kissed your forehead like every other  morning before mumbling a brief goodbye, he chuckled lightly at the way you babbled some sort of greet and  he walked to the door like every other day but he failed to notice how your eyes opened and gazed at him.

His eyes widened as he felt the burn on his right leg, not knowing you were watching in horror the way his knee falters, causing his leg to tremble before giving in to gravity. He held onto the handle tightly, gritting his teeth to capture the whine that threatened your sleep. However, when he turned around, he founded your half-closed eyes fixated on him, but before you could say anything, he rushed away hoping your mind was clouded enough with tiredness to forget about it.

“How long?”, you ask, standing up slowly and moving towards him.

“I don’t know, what–”

“When started hurting this bad?”

His gaze fixes on the ground, his fists clamp together, annoyance bubbling up in his stomach. He knows what’s coming, he has heard that discourse way too many times to not know how this conversation will go.

“Since always Y/N!”, he cries out almost in pain, his hair moving violently matching with his gestures, the gap in your mouth mirrors the shock in you.

“You need a break Tooru…”

“So they can found someone better? No, thank you”, he lets out a dry laugh as he looks down at you.

“What is the point if you end up not being able to walk without limping??!!”, your voice falters at the end as you picture him holding onto the handle for stability, “You are out of control…”

Oikawa’s nails dig into his palm as he frowns, eyes narrowing at you with dangerous intensity.

“As if you knew…” , the sharpness in his voice makes nothing but press the wound in your heart furthermore.

“Of course, I know, damn it! Tooru you are barely sleeping! I don’t know if you’re even eating properly since we almost never have any meal together!”

And then as if your words had hit the right nerve inside the setter, Oikawa snaps, the look he shoots at you makes your movements halt and your voice dissolves into silence. He was tired and frustrated but ultimately scared and the fact you couldn’t see how scared he was, only frustrates him more.

“No, you don’t know a fucking thing! I need to get better!!”

“Tooru you are their regular setter already!”, you scream at him your face getting red with anger as your tone fades into a bare whisper, “Nothing is enough for you, isn’t it?!”

Oikawa knew that the question itself wasn’t entirely related to his volleyball career. The pleading look you give him and the tremble in your lips tells him that you are not only referring to the all the medals and recognitions but about your relationship itself.

You were asking him if you weren’t enough for him…And maybe you weren’t.

“No!”, the word comes out rushed, his thoughts getting more and more clouded by frustration. You grit your teeth when Oikawa places a hand on his forehead as if he had a bad headache, as if you were the cause of the annoying hammering,

“You are so selfish…can’t you see all what you ha–”, your voice comes in low hiss and before you can finish he lets out a loud groan as the keys in his hand fly across the room landing with a loud thud against your living room table, making you flinch.

“Why can you just let me do what I have to? Is it too much for your head to understand?!”, he shouts, and you feel a sting in your chest, your eyes almost seem to fall from your face and your breath stops as you see how your boyfriend’s face contorts in malice.

“I could pick any of those girls who wait for me after the matches, you know?  I could have any of them and they wouldn’t be as half as annoying as you!”

Oikawa’s chocolate orbits are piercing at you in anticipation when he catches the redness saturating your eyes, causing his heart to drop to the ground.

“I–“

“Go, pick a nobody who only wants to fuck with you,” you try your best to not flinch, but the venom in his words make a silent tear to roll down your cheek, “because I’m not staying to watch how you destroy yourself”

You walk past him, brushing his shoulder roughly, your steps to the door are so fast, he doesn’t get a chance to even try to reach for your hand.

The slam of the door makes a feeling of anguish settle on his chest. His feet move subconsciously to the door when a loud groan leave his lips, the pain on his knee makes his whole body shiver as he falls apart a meter away of the handle.

“Shit, shit, shit”, he whines as he manages to move his body until his back is leaning against the door, his hand travels to his pocket, desperately pulling out his phone, a pout cross his features when your name pops on his recent calls. The phone rings and rings but no answer comes, when the small device turns off, he feels himself growing numb.

And the minutes turn into hours, the night wrapping the city as Oikawa rests against the door.

Oikawa had never felt this desperate, the pain in his knee is unnoticeable compared to the ache swelling in his chest. One call, one message, anything that would let him know that you are safe, that is all he needs right now.

“What did you do for her to stay with you?”, Iwaizumi’ words ring in his ears, “You are lucky Oikawa”

He was lucky indeed, his head drops to the back, hitting the wood, his breath falters as tears stream down his face until they turn into uncontrollable sobs, the sting on his knee and the guilt mixing painfully together.

Suddenly, the door pushes his body to the side, hitting the back of his head causing him to grunt.

“Tooru?”, his eyes widen, he turns immediately to encounter your still glassy eyes gazing down at him in confusion, “What are you doing on the floor?”

Your voice is stoic however it is music for Oikawa’s ears, he quickly brushes the tears away from his face as he tries to stand up, a hiss slipping his throat.

“Oh god, Tooru!”, you quickly leave the store bag you are carrying and bend down to support him, “I bought some–

“I’M SO SORRY Y/N!! I-I DIDN’T MEAN TO–“, he groans as you try to lift him up but your small figure can’t do much to move the former captain of Seijoh, so you just drop him carefully back on the floor and kneel in front of him, “P-Please don’t leave…”

Your silence makes his heartbeat pace faster and he grabs your hands tightly, his gaze fixes on yours and you notice the fear his orbits hold. You have never seen him this vulnerable and your eyes don’t fail to show your surprise.

“Please don’t leave me Y/N-chan“, your lips press softly over his own before he says anything else, Oikawa’s brows furrow together as he squeezes your hands gently, sighing, relived.

“You should get someone better–”, he says,

“You are probably right”, you sigh, “you did hurt me, but– I guess I just love you that much”, he loses himself in the softness of your voice and tears threaten to come out again.

“I truly admire how hard you work but you have to take care of yourself Tooru–“,his glassy eyes look at you, still not able to believe you’re here, next to him, you bit your lip before cupping his cheek, “–you might not be the king of volleyball yet, but for what it is worth, you’re the king to me”

You blush violently but not even as close as the flustered red that tints Oikawa’s features, he leans in hesitantly to claim your lips and you both melt in the kiss.

He never thought such words would made him feel so complete and he realizes that all he ever needed was you by his side.

“Not gonna lie, I was hoping you’d say, ‘you are the king of my heart’ or something like that”

“I-Can’t you just take the stupid compliment?”, he chuckles with a husky tone but suddenly stops, he places a hand on your cheek his thumb making soothing circles over your flushed skin.

“Thank you”

“Uh?”

“For giving me another chance”, your knees start to sore from kneeling on the floor but you can’t move as his chocolates eyes stare into your own brimming with emotion, “I love you so much, I’m so sorry Y/N”

“If so, stop overworking yourself, okay?”

Your fingers tangle with his brown locks as he whispers a silent yes, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping your torso tightly as if he was still scared you fade away.  

Oikawa doesn’t  have a  throne, but he’ll proudly wear the title you gave him, and he’ll do his best the be worthy of the crown that comes with it.

❀ Please reblog if you like it! ❀

Thanks for reading ♡♡♡

#oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #oikawa fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #oikawa tooru x you #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru

[hongjoongtrasher]

ATEEZ FINAL PART : when they said something to hurt you.

I'm glad you've liked the previous part (part 1 and 2 here if you haven't read it yet), so here is a final to all this angsty reactions (if it is a reaction). Sorry if there are a lot of grammar errors, English not being my mother tongue -

Gosh this is going to be LONG please, bear with me ugh.

Hongjoong:

After this stormy episode of him totally lashing his stress out on you, he spent some time alone to think and reflect upon his trashy behaviour. He was genuinely aware of the massive efforts you were doing for his ass. Literally be patient and taking everything on you so he didn't have to feel more stressed. But today was different. He obviously went too far, saying those words horribly. Furthermore, he knew how hurt you've been because of him and now he didn't really know how to be forgiven. He always have been busy, always considering his work first and thought you were in an equal part of this, but seems he considered you taken for granted. The leader sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes not seeing any solutions at the moment. It's at this moment that Seonghwa entered the place. "Erm...Joong ?" he didn't answer, only Seonghwa could see how much his leader was in distress. "I heard from Y/N, mh I mean she told San who told me but anyway-" began the oldest before Hongjoong asked simply: "Have you come to scold me ?" A silence then. "No, I came to check on you." Seonghwa was always worried about his leader, since he knew the best how hardworking and diligent Hongjoong was, but today he felt like he was wrong. "You've acted like a real idiot this time" Hongjoong let a sarcastic laugh be heard as he slowly turned to face his friend. "Yeah, I know. Do you think she will forgive me ?" "Probably not easily." he answered honestly before continuing. "She told San she was tired of this, always being a shadow to you, erm...and nowadays she's been really stressed at work" A shadow ? Is this how you were seeing yourself as ? And on top of that, he was completely unaware of your work, how life has been going for you. This made the leader felt more guilty as he bite his lips. "So...What should I do ? Kneeling and beg her for forgiveness ?" Seonghwa sighed and put a comforting hand on the leader shoulder. "Sometimes actions are better than words".

And he left the studio, putting Hongjoong in a more difficult situation than he was already. What did he mean ? He thought about it again and again, watching without really watching his screen before it tilted inside his head. "THE SONG !!" he yelled at himself, feeling now very dumb. He had almost forgotten this track, a very secret one he composed for a long time. This song was special for him, it was a song which were written for you, and was conveying all of his feelings. He had to make you listen to this. A glance at his phone indicated it was already 3am in the morning, but sleep could wait. He spent the rest of the night finishing this track, or actually checking it before he saved a copy and directly sent it to you, praying you'd see it in the morning.

You'd spent the most horrible night of your life. Crying and turning under your blanket as you felt useless, no one. San proposed to come with Yunho, but you insisted to be alone, so they let you be, though they were worried. You only found sleep around two in the morning, tired for having crying most of the night. You woke up at six, your eyes hurting, puffy and red as fuck. Anyone could tell you've cried your eyeballs out. First you went to the bathroom to clean your face with cold water, your stuffy nose not helping in the process. After a while you returned to your bedroom and took your phone, not expecting to see a message from your boyfriend, or was he still yours ? At first you hesitated to open it, but finally did. No text, just an audio file. What was this ? Taking your headphone, you put them into your ear before clicking on the file, closing your eyes. At first, you were confused. You've never heard any melody like this one, so...calm, bubbly and soft. Soon Hongjoong's voice appeared with lyrics he surely had written and...you broke in tears again. This time not from sadness, but ...it was like a dream. You could heard his feelings, how much he loved you. You were ready to forgive him, but...it wasn't easy. Reconciliations were always difficult for both of you. Brushing this instantly aside, you rushed out from your apartment for going directly to Hongjoong's studio, in home wear, messy hair and "after crying faced" only to find him asleep on the couch. Panting, you rushed to jump on your boyfriend, sobbing again . This caused Hongjoong to wake up in surprise, confused. "Y-Y/N ?" why ? Why were you crying again ? After a while of you crying heavily on his shirt, he realised you probably came after hearing his song. His arms softly hooked around your tiny waist as one hand rubbed your back. "Shh...don't cry" he said, heartbroken to see you like this. "You dummy !" you yelled between two sobs. "I know." "I - I love you" "Me too, I'm sorry for being a huge dummy" he said with a gentle smile, holding your face to wipe your tears.

Seonghwa:

How rude he's been with you. It's only after hearing your answer that he realised you didn't deserve this. He wanted to chase after you, saying he was sorry, but too late, you slammed the door. Hongjoong came to their shared room before leaning at the door's frame, arching a brow at the oldest. "Can you explain to me what did just happen ?" he asked calmly before Seonghwa bite his lower tier. "I've been a jerk with her" he mumbled, not proud of himself this time. "Yeah, we saw this. You know, she only wanted to cheer you up. We all know you're having bad times because of vocal things, but you didn't have to lash out on her." His leader wasn't wrong, only himself was. "Hwa, go after her. It's not too late" said Hongjoong. "Now ?" Hongjoong sighed. "Yes now, not tomorrow or later" Seonghwa blinked, overthinking before his own body stood up and carried him outside the dorm, chasing after you desperately. He shouldn't have had been this way, he should have been thankful to have you by his side, always being cheerful and bright although sometimes you were hiding your own demons. But being a couple meant for the good and the worst right ? After running for a while, he stopped, panting his lungs on fire. He started to think. Where could you be now ? He remembered when you were sad or stressed, you used to go to Starbucks and get a drink full of sugar and whipped cream, that's how he thought you'd at the nearest one. Not minding people watching him when he opened the door, he eyed the room quickly before seeing you at the table across the entrance. He stepped inside and directly went to your seat as you were still sniffing with tears, your drink between your hands. Not expecting to see your boyfriend, you gasped when you finally realised he was standing here without saying anything. "Y/N.." You tried to gain composure, not wanting to appear fragile in front of him. "What are you doing here ? I thought you didn't want to see me" you croaked, looking away coldly. You heard him sitting before you and took your cold hands. "Y/N I'm sorry. I've been a jerk, you didn't deserve this- I know my work isn't an excuse for acting this way, I understand if you don't want to talk to me or-" "Shut up..." you mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed as more people were staring at you two. "I will do everything for you to forgive me, really." he said seriously, not quitting your face from his gaze. Some people were whispering and gossiping, and the more they did, the more you felt ridiculous. You stood up quickly and went straight to the exit with your double cold latte with whipped cream, your boyfriend following you closely. "Are you crazy Park Seonghwa ??? Did you forget you're an idole ? Huh ?? What are you going to do if they recognise you ?" You began to yell but Seonghwa stopped you by taking your free hand and said clearly. "Then I will just say you're my girlfriend and that I don't care, cause you deserve way more than this. Beside being an idole I'm a man, and I love you, there's nothing wrong with this, and if they don't like it, screw them !" you were shocked by his fearless answer, and you felt your heart melt again. You were definitely madly in love with him.

Yeosang:

He was aware of his jerk attitude, and as much as he felt guilty, he didn't know how to ask for your forgiveness. The members already scolded him for what he had said earlier but he knew better than anyone that you weren't ready to talk with. You were the type to be angry for a while, not letting space for any peaceful conversation until you'd calm down. He overthought for a while, thinking you'd probably dump him now and he wouldn't see you ever again, or you'd be so mad at him you'd just beat his ass. Tormented, Yunho looked at his friend before saying, not really sure to mingle in his friend's love problems: "Yeosang, I'm not sure about her being mad, I think she's ...sad ?" he said cautiously, nervous about Yeosang's answer. Sad ? He was really dumb. Of course you'd not be mad, or at least not as much as sad. After all he saw you crying when you left, and his motto was all ruined at this moment. "You're right...I should go see her." he said flatly, feeling really bad. "Huh, yeah I don't even understand why you're still here to be honest" said Yunho with a smile. Thanks to him, Yeosang found the courage to go to your apartment, with your favorite pastry from the bakery you both liked to go, and...flowers. Yeosang wasn't the type to make such lovey dovey stuffs, but this time it was important. Inhaling deeply in front of your door, he knocked once, shyly, not sure if you'd hear it. Then he knocked more frankly before hearing footsteps from behind the door and before he knew it, you were standing in front of him as much surprised as he was. "...What are you doing here ?" you asked, rather coldly. He cleared his throat before handling you shyly the flowers. "I...I came to apologise. I've been a real jerk to you earlier...I even promised myself I'd never make you cry, but I failed miserably" he said in a go, probably too embarrassed to say it confidently. There is a silence, as you fix your eyes on your shy boyfriend. Suddenly you wanted to laugh. How laughable it was to see Yeosang acts like he never did before. You can't bear it anymore and just burst out of laugh, laughing so much that you have to hold your hurting belly. Visibly confused, Yeosang frowned a bit. Why were you laughing ? "Oh my god...You're really something else" you said, calming down slowly before taking the flowers. He suddenly lifted his head in hope. "Does it mean you're forgiving me ?" You faked you're still thinking about it, humming in an exaggerate way. "Well, only if you let me eat this" you nudged your chin to the box he was carrying and which you spotted immediately before he gave you the flower. He smiled and shook his head. "Alright, it's all for you then"

San:

He had definitely crossed a line he shouldn't had. After you slammed the door at his nose, he tried to make you open it for a while, but you never opened it again. So he left, defeated. It was supposed to be a romantic moment for both of you since a while, and yet he ruined everything with his mouth. Sometimes he wished he just could rewind and change every thing. Even if he didn't like the dress, he could have accepted it since you were happy, but his selfishness and jealousy got over it and now he was alone, in his car without you. He took his phone, sending you texts. "Babe, I'm sorry, please, you know I didn't really mean it right ?" or "Please answer me, I'm really sorry." etc, but you didn't even open them since they were still on sent. Instead of going back to his dorm, he tried to call you this time. On the fifth time, he let a voice mail, taking a long breath before the beep. "Y/N, I'm really sorry, I didn't want to ruin our date like this, or just ruin it at all. The truth is...you were so pretty in this dress, so sexy that I don't want other men to see you in this, I wanted to be the only one to see you with. You're not a whore, you're not any of this. I'm selfish I know, but please, it's been so long since we went on a date...If you still want to see me...I'll be waiting in front of your building." And he locked his phone, leaning his head on the top of the steering wheel. He didn't know how long he waiting again but he suddenly heard the door of the passenger side opening, making him look at the person who opened it. It was you. With the same dress. He felt his heart stopped as you sat next to him, putting your seatbelt without a word. "Y/N ?" You looked straightforward you, and said simply. "Let's go, I guess the restaurant is still open" you muffled. He couldn't help but smiled happily as he turned the engine on, taking your hand in his before driving and said. "Thank you Y/N, thank you" and kissed the back of your delicate hand.

Yunho:

Since the incident at the practice room, Yunho didn't hear from you for a while. Hongjoong particularly scolded him about how rude he's been on you while you just wanted to wish them good luck for their performance. He knew it right, but at the moment he couldn't have helped but get angry at you. He knew as well it wasn't so like him to get carried away for nothing, so that's why he didn't really know what to do to make amend for you. He made his mind he would apologise right after their stage for Kingdom even if they boys thought it would be better to do it before. He knew you'd definitely watch them, root for them so he put all of his mind and body in this performance, hoping it would bring him luck. And it did since they snitched 1st place although they started low in the classement. When the MC asked Yunho how he felt about their win, the giant boy just shyly smiled before saying with a trembling voice. "I...It meant a lot for us, and to be able to be first is huge honour. We always want to show our best to our fans, Atiny. But today I...wanted to surpass myself for a certain person." Others groups were chatting among themselves, surprised by Yunho's declaration. Changmin, though he was as surprised as the others still asked professionally. "Oh, who would it be ?" Yunho smiled brightly and said confidently. "Y/N, my girlfriend." Some screams and gasps from shock could be heard in the giant room after Yunho pursued: "She's always been by my side and supports me with the best way she can, but lately...I've not been a good boyfriend to her, that's why I wanted to win, for her, and saying that I love her."

Right after the diffusion of this week episode which you've been watching with your friends, you sobbed like a little girl. How proud you were for your boyfriend, and the only thing you wanted now was to take him in your arms, feeling his arms around you. With shaking hands you took your phone to try to call Yunho, but he wasn't answering your call. That's at this very moment you heard the bell of your door and went for it, not expecting to see your boyfriend at your door. "H-hi" he said shyly. You dropped your phone and jumped directly in his arms, crying again. "You're an idiot Jung Yunho...But I love you". He nuzzled the top of your head as he hugged you back tightly. "I love you too, little one."

Wooyoung:

wede Wooyoung always said honestly what he was thinking, and everyone's used to it, so he thought his remarks about your skill about cooking would pass easily, but he was wrong. At first he didn't understand your reaction, why you left like this as he was only joking, or he thought so. Seonghwa nagged at him after you left, saying how rude he's been and at least he could shut his mouth. He felt really guilty. He was the one who made you loose confidence about you, when he knew you're always trying your best. And this time, he really screwed things up. Worst than this, when he ate the cake you'd made, he realised it was really good, and his unfounded claims were really mean. Gathering his courage, he showed up at your workplace, waiting for you at the exit. At first, you didn't want to see him, you haven't digested yet what he'd said to you. But with an expressionless face, you finally appeared in front of him. "Y/N- listen, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have said those horrible jokes. No, I mean, I didn't mean what I said, the cake was really good." he tried to say quickly, afraid you'd just brush him away. After listening to his words, you just sighed and said "You're really a jerk sometimes you know that ? Maybe I'm not good at some things, but it doesn't give you the right to bash me out like this in front of everyone. Do you understand Wooyoung ?" he looked down at his feet and nodded, muttering "I'm sorry". "Fine, if you're really sorry, you better cook something too" you smirked, a sign from you that you're half forgiving him. "What ? Wait-" he looked at you astonished. "I don't know what to cook" "Huh, well not my problem" you sticked your tongue out to him and caught his arm in yours.

Mingi:

Mingi's been aware that his words probably upset you. But he needed to find himself again, to get right on tracks by himself even if he was thankful towards you, taking care of him for so long and everything. But he felt like it was his duty to make his comeback to the team his, from A to Z. He hoped you would understand, but after you left him alone, he felt guilty to suddenly reject you. The first day of his comeback into the team, Mingi felt really nervous. He wished he could call you and talk to you as he used to, but since that day he didn't dare to contact you. Instead he sent you a long message, saying how much he missed you and felt really nervous. That he was sorry for what he's said and how much you counted for him. He knew deep inside his mind that you had understood his reasons to act this way, and he was right. After reading his text, you couldn't help but fall in love all over again for Mingi. He was so sweet and pure that you couldn't hold grudges against him. You texted back saying "Everything's gonna be alright. Fighting ! I love you" which reassured the rapper.

Jongho:

Although Jongho was the youngest from the team, he was really mature and hated childish behaviour when it comes for his relationship. The fact you got jealous and as a result, acted this way got him angry. For him, the fact he was dating you was a proof of his choice, and love. Things weren't bad with his ex, so he didn't see why he would cut the rope from her, and he expected you to understand his point of view. After calming down on his own, he also realised his reaction must not have been mature as well. He took more time to think about how he was going to reconcile with you, but things shouldn't stay this way. He expected you to be at your place, and directly knocked at the door, feeling nervous. "Y/N ?" he called out for you. It took a moment before you opened the door, clearly still furious about what happened earlier. "What ? Aren't you with Mina yet ?" you spatted out, maybe too agressive than you wished. Jongho took on himself not to react to this again, instead sighing softly. "Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted this way." he began, trying to be the most sincere he was. "You're the only one for me, you know it right ? But you see, Mina is indeed my ex, but it doesn't mean I'm on bad terms with her, and it also means that nothing will happen with her anymore. Because I love you so much and no one else"

#ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #mingi #Wooyoung #Jongho #san