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#NO MORE GUILT ABOUT IT HE GOT AN EXCUSE NOW
todayisafridaynight · 2 months
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being daigo in january 2017 was probably the happiest month of his life because he just got out of jail Again for a crime he didnt commit Again and he's probably thinking how he has to keep running the tojo clan if he wants to respect kiryu even though hes """""""'gone""""""""" or whatever and then some bitch with the newspaper in his ear like 'the governor's trying to evict us what should we do' and i can only imagine the LOUDEST sigh of relief this man had to internalize as he began to flesh out his two-year plan then and there
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ozzgin · 1 month
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More of the yandere monster???? Like their married life, him being such a cutie cutie and the reader is a willing person to his yandere tendencies. Like him physically fighting someone for flirting with her for .01 second and her just being 😍🥰
Alright anon, seeing as this has once again resurfaced, I'll cover a little bit of marital life as per your suggestion. (I'm hoping you're referring to the older sibling monster)
Yandere! Monster Husband x Reader
A little change of plans and the wedding you've been kidnapped for continued without a hitch, except you married the monstrous sibling instead. Made for an awkward celebratory dinner, but no one dared to oppose the Beast.
Content: female reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, saga of the monster hoe reader continues
[First part]
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The next family dinner was quiet. You couldn't help but wonder if your horniness had gone too far, slowly chewing your food and occasionally peeking at the ex-groom with remorseful eyes. Poor guy, you thought. "Well, it's quite convenient, isn't it?" he finally said, breaking the silence. The cutlery sounds paused, and you lifted your gaze again. The man flashed you a radiant smile, which emphasized his handsome features even more. "I mean, we weren't sure we'd ever find a wife for my brother. He has a bit of an attitude, and even monsters are afraid of him. The only marriage attempt-" his speech was interrupted by a grunt, and you turned towards your monstrous boyfriend. The older sibling was frowning, visibly embarrassed. "Oh, I remember!" the mother of the siblings, a halfling herself, suddenly chuckled into her glass, taking a generous sip before continuing: "We'd arranged for a fellow monster to meet him, and the poor soul got so frightened she blended in with the background! Took us two days to find her! She came from a chameleon family, I recall."
Everyone at the table began to laugh and you joined, although with a mild annoyance tinged into your voice. So what, there was no reason for you to be plagued by guilt? You even refused a night escapade with your boyfriend until things "settled", as a way to be respectful towards the cucked party. All for naught. At least now you could be ravaged without further consequences. When the mother in law had pulled you aside hours earlier to make sure you weren't coerced into this arrangement, you had to hold back from crassly confessing you'd slurp her son empty of fluids at any hour of the day. Some things are better left untold.
Unfortunately, one detail couldn't be changed in time: the guest list. As this had been an event meant to strengthen the ties between humans, no one outside of the immediate family graced the venue with their monstrous presence. Many guests were intrigued by the outcome of the affair, terribly curious to see the famed wife-to-be of the gruesome, feared Head of the royal army. Even more so once they discovered it was a regular human by all means. "Fascinating!", the old ladies would occasionally cry out, clutching the plump, expensive pearls adorning their necks. You had to frequently excuse yourself in order to dodge the rather indecent questions regarding your relationship. Except when you did manage to sneak away, one of the younger men of names and titles you never registered would approach you for a dance. "Truly a pitiful matter", they'd whisper much too close to your ear. "You would've made a lovely bride for a fellow human."
"You're unexpectedly calm about this", the prince mentioned to his older brother at some point during the wedding night. "Are you not bothered by all the acquaintances flocking to your bride?" The monster shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't known you for that long yet, but one thing he was certain of: it's not humans he needed to fear.
Indeed, having a wife with a monster kink is particularly challenging when most of the husband's work involves similar creatures. The first months after the marriage were stalked by the insidious doubt that his luck was just that: mere coincidence. Would you have displayed the same interest had he not been the only beast at the table? Would you still pick him in a room full of monsters? Such questions followed him each day, feeding into an ever-growing jealousy.
"What are you doing here!", he exclaimed in despair once he noticed your arrival at his training camp. "You forgot your lunch", you explained, eyebrows raised in confusion. Oh, for fuck's sake. He quickly pulled you away, glaring at the subordinates startled by the commotion. They must've been eyeing (Y/N) like rabid dogs, he thought. Next thing you know, you'll be scooped away by some horned scoundrel. He can't have that.
Initially, the rage-filled, obsession-driven fuck you'd receive almost daily was welcomed with shameless begging. The way your monster husband would pin you down under his claws and thrust into you so hard, you could see its movement in waves across your stomach. The way he'd forcefully spread your legs, hungrily sinking his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs and gnawing your shoulders in delirious need. The tears that sheepishly formed in the corners of your hooded eyes would only incite him more. "Bite onto my hand if you can't take it anymore", he'd coo without stopping. As much as you liked to be left a limp, drooling mess, the soreness grew unbearable. Enough was enough when you found yourself carrying a cushion to sit down on any surface.
"Listen, we need to have a talk." You greeted him solemnly once he returned from his military duties. Oh, no. Absolutely not. The monstrous husband bit his lips in panic, immediately going through a mental list of all his subordinates. Or was it someone in the family that slithered their way into your heart? Is that what it was about, that you'd found a different creature? No matter, you weren't going anywhere. "I don't want to hear about it", he declared dramatically. "I have a bruised cervix!" you shouted in disbelief. "Huh?" He stared at you. "It hurts even when I lay down, man. You have to tone it down. At least for a little while."
Ah. Awkward. You noticed his flinch, and patted the empty seat next to you. "What did you think I was going to say?" The bench groaned under the weight of his gargantuan body. Hands folded in his lap like a punished schoolboy, your husband began to narrate the tale of his seething envy and frenzied passion for you. You must understand, he's never cared for anyone as much. To hell with duty and honor, he would kill his own father if his touch on you lingered one second longer than permitted. "Alright, but you must control yourself a little", you reminded him gently. "Never, my urge to obliterate any threat in my path is insatiable", he concluded with vehemence. "Yes, yes, that I understand. The sex, I mean", you gesticulated. "Of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked."
Somehow, he didn't expect to leave this conversation with a cathartic approval of his possessiveness. "Surely you must be upset by my fanatical behavior", he suggested meekly. "Oh no, it's part of your charm", you reassured him with a smile. "It's just not that sustainable in bed without the occasional break." You pat your stomach to express your misfortune.
Sadly, your monster fucking dreams must adhere to the laws of biology.
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essenteez · 11 months
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𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 || yunho
"falling in love with your best friend feels like eighth deadly sin."
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"And if you really think that it's an obsession, don't worry." He spoke again, this time his voice was hoarse as he struggled to speak, his thumb and eyes now wandering around your half opened lips. "I'll take all of it."
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 : You made a tough decision that left you absolutely devastated. Falling in love with your best friend was unacceptable. You got to leave. The method was slowly vanishing from Yunho's life until he would get used to your abstance. Deep down, a voice kept telling you it was the right choice. However, Yunho never meant to let you go as he stood in your door on one rainy spring evening, demanding an explanation.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Yunho × (f)reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : Angst, smut
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit language, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f!receiving), tongue fuck, anal fingering, ass smacking, missionary, deep penetration, pet names
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 6k
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Is it possible to feel like your decision, at the same time, is the best and the worst? As if you’re attempting to go both ways, feeling like your body is ripping apart.
You asked some of your friends about it, desperate for a helpful answer.
"Depends.'' they always shrugged, which only meant they had the same idea about it as you did. Read as none.
In the beginning, you thought your approach to the problem would be the best solution for both him and yourself. However, the more time had passed, the more it all felt like the most fanciful of tortures.
Nothing had happened between you two, nothing deep enough that you could hold on to. So why, why did you keep failing to convince yourself that everything you went through was for the best. Was it because of guilt that was eating you alive whenever he looked hurt by the distance you had been widening for the past four months? Or because that was a normal reaction after sacrificing something important for a better cause? You were doing that for both of you, especially for him. Your intentions were good. Why wasn't it working?
And now there you were, completely frozen, face to face with him in the late spring evening as he suddenly banged on your door, ten minutes after you ignored his text once more.
You were now staring at the upset man in front of you. Due to shock, you couldn't look away. You allowed his eyes to burn into you.
He was drenched from the pouring rain outside, standing at your door that you should've never opened. His expression and posture reminded you of a wild animal that was about to attack you.
Your hand trembled on the knob as you contemplated slamming the door in his stoic but serious face. All you wanted to do was crawl under your bedsheets to hide for the rest of your miserable life.
You were wrong from the very beginning. You didn't put on any sacrifice. You've been running away like a coward, and at that very moment, you were about to receive your punishment.
"We need to talk, don't you think?" The jaw muscles tensing up under his skin as he almost hissed the words out.
You had to get away from him, as far as possible. Far away, so it was easier for you to breathe again. It was time to dig through the long list of excuses that, to be honest, you were running out of.
"I was actually getting ready to leave for a night out with girls, so can we…"
His index finger pointed in your face, which stopped you from continuing the poor act.
"This is the only chance I'm giving you to explain what's happening, (y/n). If you close this fucking door on me…" he hesitated but the power in his voice didn't weakened, "you'll never see me again."
The breath abruptly left your lungs. You swore your heart stopped for a second just to restart its beating with double the speed. You heard your blood pumping in your veins as the inner panic unleashed from his words that were like a magic spell.
There was no bluff in his words. He didn't mean to scare you, despite him knowing you were vulnerable for empty threats like that. The warning was absolutely backed up. You could see it by the way he stood there before you, how he clenched his fists, the way he looked at you with devouring anger in his brown eyes.
No doubt, you crossed all possible lines. And you had no idea how to handle the consequences. You knew one thing, you'd rather die than never see him again.
"What do you mean?" You still tried, wishfully thinking he spoke about something else.
No answer came your way. He simply passed you by and stormed inside your apartment. You were too scared to protest, not after the eyes he gave you before walking in.
You slowly closed the door, in need of every second to gather all the shreds of courage you had in you. There wasn't much.
Somewhat ready to get eaten alive by the unbearable remorse, you finally turned around. However, he disappeared from your eyes' reach.
"Yunho…"
"You still have some of those spare clothes I left once after a party?" He yelled from what you realized was your bedroom. "I'm totally soaked."
The last thing you cared about now was wet stains on your wooden floor, spreading from the door through the living room up to your bedroom and glistening in the weak lamp light.
You couldn't form a word, every sound was caged in your throat. The anxiety began its biggest harvest inside you. You felt all the strength leaving your body. All you could muster up was standing on your two feet in the middle of your living room, and that alone was impressive in your current state.
You were registering his steps in the other room. Yunho walked into the bathroom to get rid of the wet clothes. He spoke to himself about how nice that the dryer was there. Then he reentered the bedroom and next you heard nothing but his loud sighs.
"Come here." His voice had little volume to it, but the depth of its tone resonated in your ears and echoed in your whole being. The command was crystal clear and sent a set of sharp shivers down your spine.
You let your feet lead you to the doorframe of your room. However, you stopped them there.
He was sitting on your bed, aggressively rubbing the towel on his wet hair. He wore his plain black T–shirt and pair of gray sweatpants you stored in your drawer after he forgot it months ago. He looked like he had just walked out of the shower.
"Do you hate me?" He asked suddenly, still not looking at you. "Maybe I scared you with something I said or did?"
You wanted to refuse, feeling your heart cracking even more, but no sound left your dry mouth.
He, on the other hand, had a lot to say.
"Did I do something wrong, hmm? Cause I've spent three months going back and forth to all our meetings, and I genuinely don't know what that would be." He laughed bitterly, still drying his thick black hair.
You felt like shrinking while the guilt that kept growing towered over you unforgivably. You had seen Yunho angry before but never at you. Why were you so stupid to think it would never reach you after all you had done?
A tint of sadness invaded his chords, "You suddenly started to avoid me, mumble something under your nose instead of answering me, or you have been straight up ignoring me. You don't pick up my calls or respond to my texts and if you do it's always the same shit 'I'm busy, will call you later' which is bullshit cause you never do, (y/n)."
The tears showed up in your eyes, and you bit your lip to stop them from pouring out like a tidal wave.
He noticed it. The hand with a towel dropped on his legs.
"I don't know, did someone tell you we can't be friends or make you feel bad about it?"
Yes. Me. You cried inside your jumbled mind.
"No." You uttered, swallowing your tears.
"Then what?" He urged, aggressively tossing the towel aside after he turned it into a damp ball. Now, all his attention was paid to you, and you felt bare under his eyes.
"I don't know what to tell you." You whispered, the lump in your throat only grew.
"The truth, (y/n)." He begged. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, then fine, I can't force you. But after all this time and memories we've made, I think I deserve to hear a reason behind your decision. Not to mention everything was fine 'till Hongjoong's birthday."
Him, now linking the dots, made you feel as icy needles ruched in your blood, tearing your veins.
Something did happen at your friend's birthday party. One innocent game, alcohol untying people's mouths, and you ended up begging God to help you erase that night from your head.
You thought you kept your composure after drunk Bona spilled her crush on your best friend. This one sentence that she sang toward him smashed the glass of denial and released all the spirits of truth. The realization hit you like thunder, and the effects never left with time.
After that, you slowly, nor drastically, began walking away. Your behavior should not have been seen as related to that party's events.
If it was so clear to Yunho, was it obvious to everybody else?
Although he was right.
What were you thinking? It is Yunho, we're talking about. He would never leave a problem untouched when he saw one. There was nowhere to run and hide now, and it never had been.
You reached your hand to the light switch and let the room get embraced by darkness. There was no option for him to see the shame on your face when you would be telling him the issue that tormented both of you.
He didn't say anything, handing you the mic.
You walked inside the room and slid to the wall, calling on it for support. You were placed in front of him but at a safe but far distance.
"I love you." You confessed, shaking like a leaf. "I don't know what is happening, but I know I want you so much. Every inch of me craves for you, and I lost all control over my own self when it comes to you to the point I can't sleep at night, eat, or think straight. I've never felt like this before, about anyone. And we're best friends. I have no right…" The guilt caged your voice.
The silence on his side was crushing. That was the end. You had nothing to lose.
You took a deep breath, "That's why I've avoided you and purposely ignored you. I have to stay away, Yunho. For both of our sakes."
You heard him taking a few deep breaths.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" Somehow, his voice bore the accusation.
"I was scared of rejection." You chuckled at your miserable position. "The girls laughed that I sounded absolutely obsessed when I told them about this. They said they were only joking, but I started wondering and got scared. What if I am? You asked if you scared me with something. You didn't. I'm scared of myself. Because…no one sane acts like that. No one sane falls in love with their friend."
As you finished the confession, you dared to look his way. Your eyes got used to the dark, and you managed to see his darkened features.
The left side of his face was slightly illuminated by the dim light coming from the living room. You were watched intensively as he was eyeing you up.
His upper body was leaned forward, his arms resting on his spread knees. He looked…disappointed? Angry? You couldn't really tell. However, his deep breathing betrayed that the chaos you let out in indeed affected him.
The question was how would he accept what you brought upon him.
"I'm sorry." You breathed out on the edge of crying. You felt awful by ruining your amazing friendship. "Truly."
He submerged his finger in his damp fuzzy hair and then proceeded to wipe his face. He seemed deep in thought. You watched how he stroked his thighs a few times before standing up.
"Yunho…" you gulped, seeing him closing the distance between you.
He was getting dangerously close.
"Please, stop."
The man listened to your command. Still, he halted only half a meter from you. Yunho gave you a second to calm down, let your guard down, therefore you had no time for reaction as his arm suddenly reached out for your hand, grabbing your wrist firmly, and began pulling you close to him.
You quietly whimpered, trying to twist your hand out of his grasp, but there was no use. He mercilessly dragged you until your bodies met.
You couldn't look up, not with all the panic thriving inside you. However, he did not mean to stop. You felt his finger underneath your chin, and suddenly, you found yourself looking in his eyes that shone with a new light in the dark room.
"I would never reject you." He let out a firm but gentle whisper. "What do you think that I came here for? To fight for you."
The bangs of his wet hair tickled your forehead. He stood so close to you like he only ever did in your intrusive thoughts and uncontrolled fantasies. You had no choice but to let his scent of cologne and rain embrace you from all sides.
"And if you really think that it's an obsession, don't worry." He spoke again, this time his voice was hoarse as he struggled to speak, his thumb and eyes now wandering around your half opened lips. "I'll take all of it."
The touch of his lips was more than you imagined. You whimpered into his mouth, at which he responded with a smile. You fought not to push him away from the intensity of your surprise. Everything was happening too fast and not how you had seen it in your head for uncountable times when thinking about the face-off.
Yunho kissed you slowly as if he was giving you time to get used to his touch and his taste. He let go of your wrist, and after gently putting your arm around his neck, he carefully wrapped your waist. His other hand moved from your chin on the side of your head. The embrace tightened.
You couldn't say you just allowed him to pull you close to him. You were like a ragdoll. The rollercoaster of severe emotions took away your will to move. He could’ve done anything he wanted to do to you, placed you anywhere he needed you to be. You were completely frozen.
Yunho was considerate of your state and didn’t want to push you. He broke the kiss and pulled his head back to look at you with a slight smile that showed understanding.
"Do you want me to leave you alone? If you need time and talk about it once you’re ready, I’ll wait." He assured you, the gentleness in his tone making your heart flutter. "I’ll wait as long as you need me to."
"I– I don’t know." You stuttered, no volume to your weak voice. "W– what would you want?:
"Can I be indecently honest?"
You nodded, the hope sparking in your heart.
"I want to stay. I missed you so much. For the past months, whenever we met, I felt like you were light years away despite you standing right beside me. So I want to kiss all your doubts and fears away so we both never feel that way again. I want to hold you close, taste you. I want to relearn my name as you moan it all night long. I want you. I've wanted you for so long." He flooded you with the confession that held much more fire and confidence than yours from a minute ago.
You trembled in his arms, grabbing more onto his shirt at his back as he wiped away a single tear that managed to escape and roll on your redden cheek. It felt like a dream, and you felt the familiar anxiety of the moment you would have to wake up as it happened all the time before.
After all these months of pain from keeping yourself away from the man you've been falling in love with, feeling like he was slipping through your hands with your own help, you were a shadow of a woman. You were a ruin.
"What’s your decision?"
But the will to fix everything that was broken smoldered inside you, and you felt that with the right blow of wind, it would turn into impressive flames.
"Stay."
He quickly groaned at your allowance, and your faces got close again. Both his arms now embraced your waist and back.
"Of all the things I just said, which one do you want me to do the most?" He asked, his lips brushing yours.
"Everything." You breathed out without hesitation. Experiencing the long yearning, you needed to feel everything, from innocence to obscene.
Your lips interlocked again, but this time, nothing tamed you for kissing him back as you had always desired.
With every breath between, the kiss was getting hotter, wetter. Your tongues twirled in a wild dance, teeth hooking on each other's lips. With quiet whimpers and moans, you drove each other crazy.
His damp hair was tangled in your inpatient fingers that massaged the back of his head and neck. He moaned in your lips from the affection. The sweet adlip instantly woke up the aching between your legs.
You felt the wall behind your back again. One of his arms left your waist and was placed above your head.
He broke the kiss, "You really thought that Bona's confession meant anything to me?" He panted, his half closed eyes never leaving your lips.
So he found the answer. He did mention he studied all three months of your random change.
"I didn't know what it meant to you. I was too scared to think about it. It just made me realize my feelings for you, and I feared for our friendship."
"And your solution to save our friendship was to stay away?"
"I'm sorry."
He clenched his jaw, and that alone was enough to double your already crazy heart rate. His eyes were pitch black, his brows frowned.
"It makes me really angry." He groaned. "To think your first thought was that I would reject you. That you asked yourself that tough question and saw no hope. That you went for the wrong answer. As if I ever gave you a reason to doubt."
"I'm sorry."
"It's me who's sorry, (y/n)."
You moaned at the speed he attacked your lips again. He didn't graced them for long with his unsatisfied affection as he moved onto your jaw, then sensitive neck.
You felt how his body pinned you to the wall. With the power he pushed into you, he picked you up. You were gasping for air from the waves of pleasure shaking your body as his hungry mouth kissed, licked, and bit on your skin.
"You always smell so fucking good." He cooed sultry, placing his hands under your ass, forcing you to put your legs onto his hips.
He pushed himself with you in his arm off the wall and began walking you two to your bed.
You were released from his tight embrace and let him push you on the sheets. With aw, you watched him remove his shirt, putting his beautifully shaped torso and abs on display.
"Now's your turn." He snarled.
His hands went down to your cotton, loose shirt, and ripped it apart with one pull. Your bare breasts bounced free. You only now remembered you had no bra on.
"Yunho–"
But he didn't care about your surprise. He just gently laid on your side, supporting his weight on his elbow. His chest rubbed on your right breast in a slow massage that had you wave underneath him.
"Goddamn it, (y/n)."
His hand embraced your neck, giving it a little squeeze. You watched it going down to your chest, between your naked breasts, and then lower on your stomach where his wrist twisted to go south. Now, you had his long fingers getting dangerously close to your throbbing folds.
You grabbed the sheets at the touch of his fingertip.
"Ahh.."
"I'm not the one who's getting soaked tonight." He smirked watching how your wetness spread underneath your leggings as his middle finger circled on your clit.
He wanted more, your loud moans too accompanying your flooding nectar. Two fingers decisively entered your pussy as the thumb worked on your pearl.
"Oh my…" you whined, arching your back.
To make your torture more difficult, he leaned his lips to your ear and began feeding your mind with the obscene.
"You're always so wet when I'm on your mind, kitten? Do your fingers fuck this dripping cunt like mine are now when your all alone?" He whispered, his breaths tickling your neck, "I can assure you, I walk hard all day because of you."
The image of him stroking himself fast, rough while moaning your name was a perfect way to bring you closer to the edge as his fingers now fucked you with a full speed.
"Yes." He grunted, satisfied with your whimpers and trembling pelvis. "Cum for me."
Yunho drank the sweetest sounds of euphoria from your lips. Your cute moans were like ambrosis for his ears. He craved for more, his soul, heart, and ego demanded more.
He sucked on the skin of your neck as his hand massaged the last ounces of orgasm from you.
"I dreamed of this so many times (y/n) – my fingers, all sticky and wet from your juices."
"Yunho…" you begged. "Please."
The yearning for him or his words along with skillful touch; you couldn't tell, but something was making you lose your sanity way too fast.
Yunho smug eyes began reading your needs. He just licked his lips before walking away to let the room bask in light again.
With the cover of the dark, you felt more secure. Now you laid there, feeling like there were hundreds of eyes watching you, even though the only person in the room with you was Yunho, who just nonchalantly stood there; one hand on the light switch, and the other, that just were inside you, on his sticked out tongue.
Unconsciously, you began closing your legs, putting hands over your chest, but he was quick to stop you.
He agility climbed on to you. Now you had his weight pinning you down, his slim pelvis between your thighs and his hands holding your hands about your head.
"Don't you even hide from me again." He warned you, looking you deep in the eyes.
His arm found its way under you, and with one pull, he moved you further up the bed before he raised himself and sat on his hills.
"I forgot to ask before ripping off your shirt," he smiled adorably, "but do you cherish your leggings?"
Knowing what was coming and feeling more than just excited about it, you shook your head.
Your soaked leggings and underwear shared the same fate as your shirt. With no hesitation, Yunho grabbed them in his fingers and ripped them apart.
You felt the cold licking your dripping slit, wishing it was that man's tongue.
"I had to turn the light back on." He grinned while studying your quivering folds. "I had to see it in detail."
His brow raised, and his eyes became absent as if they recalled something, a thought he cherished.
"I'm genuinely unable to count how many nights I imagined your taste." He voiced it. "How would you feel on my tongue. So soft and warm."
You shivered at those words. The way he said it, the way he watched you with almost worship… Yunho finally found himself on the spot he longed to be for many months.
"It's all yours." You whimpered.
He looked in your eyes again, searching for a bluff, but he was visibly relieved to see your genuine, needy expression.
"Put your pretty ass up for me, please."
You did what you were told, getting rid of the shirt, well now its shreds. Arching your back as your upper body stretched on the bed, you stuck your slightly circling butt towards him.
A gasp left your mouth as the smack landed on your plump cheek. It was sudden but more than welcomed.
"Somehow, I've always known you're filthy." He snickered, clearly glad of your reaction.
"There are a lot of things you have not found out about me yet." You uttered, biting your lip with a smile.
You flinched from another hit that left a stingy feeling and added another flood of your juices between your thighs. There was no option to not let the moan escape your chords.
"I can say the same about you." He growled as if you were about to learn something forbidden.
You felt how he grabbed your ripped leggings and slid it off your hips, down to your knees.
The warmth of his tongue almost made you cry. You grabbed the sheet between your teeth. Slow, but firm licks were meant to have you beg in a second. However, your taste was too much for Yunho to play the game of teasing any further.
He spread your cheeks and dived in deeper.
The man put his whole spirit to savor you with the way his tongue lapped on your folds, latched on your quivering core. He fed on your uninhibited wails that Yunho could swear were a balm to his heart that almost got broken today if you had not opened the door.
He now knew you were his, the same way he belonged to you. Completely. Equal in this healthy obsession.
The essence on his lips worked like the best aphrodisiac for his nature. He wanted to have you loud in pleasure, trembling in ecstasy. For a moment, he craved to control all over your being. Just so you could feel loved, desired, and perfect. So you could see yourself through his eyes.
His tongue found its way inside you. It was sudden, unexpected but more than appreciated.
"Ahh, yes." You hissed, the sheet ripping in your fists.
Yunho shifted his position to have better access to you. Your eyes rolled back at the depth he was penetrating you with. Long, skillfully muscle waved and curled within your walls.
His thumb began drawing circles around your upper hole. Gently, hesitant at first, but your appreciation for his tease made him brave enough to go inside.
With his tongue and thumb sunk inside, Yunho was at the finish of shaping a devastating orgasm for you.
Your face twisted with unbearable pleasure. Moans sent his way were full of gratitude and admiration for his mastery. For a few moments this man managed to make you feel like flying, see the stars above.
He abandoned your holes when he felt the last shreds of bliss left you. You fell flat on your bed, trying to bring yourself down on earth.
Yunho took his time to climb up your spine with juicy kisses, at the same time getting rid of his pants and underwear.
"Yunho." You called him between deep breaths to calm yourself down.
"Yes, beautiful?' He planted a kiss on your shoulder.
You touched his arm.
"Claim me."
He froze above you. You only felt his hot breath on the back of your neck. Somehow, it had you alerted.
You slowly turned on your back, still caged between his arms. His eyes were dark, full of unknown, to you, thoughts. Maybe what you needed from him sounded too much of a commitment. You confessed your feelings. You made him aware of your love. Yet…he didn't say anything back. Only that he wanted you.
"Will you?" You asked quietly, too scared to put any volume to not scare him away or worse, make him realize it was a mistake.
Still with this mysterious expression, he laid onto you, skin to skin. Your faces so close, you could see your reflection in his eyes.
"Like my life depends on it." He said into your lips, tone heavy with sweet threat. "In fact, it does."
You interlocked in a kiss that felt like a seal to what just occurred rather than simple affection. He kissed you deeply, desperately, but most of all you sensed a gratitude.
His velvet hardness began grinding on your sensitive spot with subtle yet decisive moves, lubricating his length with your wetness in the process.
You broke the kiss from all the air leaving your lungs. He was hard, hot against your skin, begging to enter you. And your pussy cramped at the pleas, more violently each second.
"Please."
He put his forehead to yours. Took a few deep breaths before he finally said:
"I love you."
Only then he allowed himself to push inside.
The words you had wanted to hear for so long and the soul easing fullness have tears falling from your eyes. He groaned at your tightness that engulfed him and spasmed around him. The warmth and your nectars embraced him whole.
You gasped loudly as he moved further, concurring more inches of your inferior. Yunho was exactly how you imagined him to be. Long and thick, with popping veins that rubbed on your walls. You moaned, whined, and squirmed with every push and pull.
"Can I go faster?" He wiped your tears of joy away.
"Yes." You panted. "You can now."
After a slow pull, he pinned into you with power, having you gasp in sudden pleasure.
He leaned on the side, now nuzzling your ear.
"You're taking me so well. I knew you would." He whispered, and if all your nerves weren't already awakened, now they were.
The pace fastened. He was taking you, fully almost possessive. He went deep, attacking your sweet spot with even but strong hits. The sound you made bordered with sobbing.
He raised up on his knees, now straddling your leg. The other one ended up over his shoulder. Only when he re‐entered you, you realized why he chose such a position. He reached depths you didn't know anyone could.
"Fuck." You cried out.
Yunho fucked you however he felt fit, placing kissing on your inner thighs as he hugged your leg while doing it. He winded and whirled his hips as he thrusted inside your defenseless cunt.
The release was approaching with no mercy.
"I'm so close." You grabbed his muscular thigh with both hands.
"I know, baby. I know." He moaned as your walls' texture rubbed onto him even more now that you were almost orgasming. You cramped around him, sucking his width unforgivably.
"Fill me in, please. I need your cum inside me." You couldn’t help but beg when the speed and force he was obliterating you with was too overwhelming. You had to have him burst inside. It was what you mean by claiming you, owning you.
He cursed loudly and leaned over, shifting his weight on his arms.
"You have no idea what you've just started."
The new position allowed the man to put on even more speed and power, pushing you off the cliff, straight to the void of the most heavenly bliss.
The euphoria embraced you from all sides. A flow of your juices flooded his cock, making it harder, too hard to not to explode.
"Oh fuck, yes." He whined and soon joined you in ecstasy. He pumped inside with low grunts leaving his throat, and you melted over the feeling of hot load, every last drop nourishing every corner of you.
He slid out after a few soothing pushes, followed by his semen. Yunho didn't have to watch this physical proof he claimed you. He knew you all his. He just lowered down and caught your weak frame in a tight, warm embrace.
Both calmed yourselves down by inhaling your scents, so familiar yet so new.
His eyes when he finally landed at you were smiling, all dreamy. You knew what Yunho's happy face looked like, and it was all plastered on his features right now.
You felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest at the sight. He was happy because of you. You made him this joyful.
"You love me." You slipped. The excitement and emotion didn't allow you to keep quiet.
He kissed you and kept smiling.
"You have no idea."
You didn't hide this time when Yunho watched you as if he learned your details by heart. You wanted him to see the woman and all her love she got for him.
"Come." He said and got off the bed. "We both need a long and hot shower."
"Soaking again?" You giggled lazily, admiring this Adonis of a man that now stood in front of you in all his glory. You bit your lips at the view of his glistening pride, knowing it all was for you to love and pleasure.
Seeing your eyes wandering all over him, Yunho couldn't help but smirk at your bluntness. He then leaned over to kiss your forehead.
"Better get used to it."
You realized how stupid you were to think you could live without his melodic laugh.
3K notes · View notes
lovifie · 2 months
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Back Home
To my lovely anon 🙊.
Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x SisterFriend!Reader
When Johnny finally comes back home, only to find his sister's best friend living in his house.
Soap got injured on the last mission. A bullet too close, well, not close, through. And not a bullet, a knife to the shoulder which left him in a sling. And now he needed almost absolute rest for a month until he was re-evaluated to see how it was healing.
It was Price's idea to go back home, it's been years since he saw his family and when Price mentioned it, guilt started to pool in his stomach.
So he took the first plane home and flew back. Reaching land in the middle of the night, he picked up a cab and went home. The humidity and coldness of his beloved Scotland made his shoulder hurt more; he couldn't wait to get home. 
Once there, he picked up the key from under the mat that he so often told his mum to put away and entered the house. Making a beeline to his room, silent so as to not wake up anyone. And as soon as he took off his shoes, he threw himself into his bed. And the bed talked back.
“Bitch, I told you to go to your bed, I don't want a fucking sleepover.” A girl's voice erupted from under the cover, a hand pushing him off the bed. Well, he stood up, there is no way you would move him with just a hand while half asleep.
“Excuse me?” Soap asks, more offended than surprised he was pushed off his bed. The man's voice woke you up fast, whipping your head around at it and turning on the bedside lamp to see anything in the dark. 
It only takes you a second to recognise your best friend’s brother, the mohawk recognisable everywhere. “Johnny?” You asked.
He asked your name back just as surprised. “What are you doing here?” He asks
“It's… it's a long story actually, I-I’ll go to your sister's room.” You say standing up, leaving his bed for him. “What happened to your shoulder?”
He peels his eyes away from you, suddenly remembering the one thing outside of his family that he always thought about. 
His sister is just a couple of years younger than him, and they always went to the same school, and later on, high school. His sister and you met in kindergarten, and ever since you were joined by the hip. Monkey 1 and Monkey 2, his mother would joke about how she didn't know she birthed twins. 
When the three of you were younger, you were just another annoying brat like his little sister. But once he reached puberty, he started to look at you differently. You were still an annoying brat, but he started to like the way you annoyed him. 
Johnny loved to be in his room, but whenever he knew you were coming he would insist on being in the living room; even if it was just to catch a glimpse as you walked up to your sister's room. 
The thing he hated the most about you? Your boyfriend. The fucking stupid boyfriend that couldn't see how amazing you were, the fucking stupid boyfriend that you cried about so much, the fucking stupid boyfriend that he would fight with so much. 
The last thing he knew about him before he enlisted, was that he had proposed to you and that you had said yes. 
But know, until just a moment ago, you were sleeping on his bed, with an old sweatshirt of his on. He was smiling to himself, the “long story” suddenly short when he connected the dots. 
He wanted to tell you to stay and sleep with him. But he was exhausted and cold, and his shoulder only hurt more and more. And if you hit it on your sleep, he wouldn't forgive you, no matter how much you were the love of his life. 
You were still looking at him, waiting for his answer. Even pointing at his shoulder so he would remember. “Oh.” He said looking at his shoulder. “It's classified.”
You rolled your eyes at his answer and started to walk out of the room; and just when you were almost out you turned to look at him.
“I'm glad you are back, Johnny.”
And in that moment, he knew he had a chance.
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The next morning he woke up incredibly late in comparison with his usual time to wake up. But to the rest of the mortals, it was still early. In fact, only his mom was awake when he walked into the kitchen. 
Giving her a warm hug that the both of them so desperately needed after being away for so long. With a cup of coffee in between, they talked on the kitchen table until his sister woke up as well and after you told her he was back she flew downstairs hugging his brother in a crushing hug. 
You went downstairs too after stretching out and when you saw the image you remained at the doorway, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. 
“Say hi to Johnny, you cunt.” Your best friend lovely said. 
“I already did last night.” You say, before thinking of the double meaning. Johnny catches immediately, a mischievous grin on his face. He wishes you had welcomed him that way. “I thought it was you, crying about wanting to sleep together again.” 
“Whatever, who came to my bed last night at the end?” She answers, smiling proudly. 
You scoff at her. “Well, I'm sorry that I let the wounded soldier that came home after three years to sleep on HIS bed.” You say chuckling, you turn to him. “You are allowed to make arrests, right? According to your sister, seems this is my fate.”
You put your hands together, extending them before you for him to put handcuffs around your wrists. He'll put them soon, he still needs to choose if he wants to tie you to the bed or to him. 
His sister slaps your arm, calling you dramatic, before working on making breakfast with your help. Something about the way you fit in just right with the people he loves the most, still wearing his sweatshirt truly warms him inside. 
“So… how's Adam?” Johnny asks, he needs to know if the coast is clear. But the way both his mom and sister look at him the moment he talks makes it regretted. And the way the knife you were using falls from your hand on the counter, lets him know everything he needs.
“He's fine.” You answer quietly, and Johnny can almost see the walls building around you. Shit, shit, shit. 
You wipe your hands on the tablecloth, turning around. “I think we are out of milk, I'll go buy some.” You say, walking out of the kitchen. Johnny is quick on his feet walking behind you. “I'll go with you.” 
You look up to him as you tie your shoes, nodding without saying anything more. He puts his boots on as well, trying to tie the laces with just a hand. “Let me do it.” You say, no room to argue and you tie his boots quickly. 
Once on the street, you walk next to each other. The shop is not far, but you walk slowly. Johnny knows you want to talk but he doesn't push it. Leaving you to choose the moment. “I actually don't know how he is doing.” You admit, looking at him. “Adam, I mean. I haven't heard from him since the wedding.”
“You got married?” Johnny asks, frankly surprised. He didn't get the invite.
“No. Thank god, I didn't.” You answer quickly, disgust clear on your face. “Almost, but I didn't.”
“What happened?” 
“He cheated. With one of my bridesmaid, during the rehearsal dinner.” You laugh, but without a bit of humour on it. “I was talking with his mom about what we would name the first grandkid, and he was getting another girl pregnant in the bathroom.”
As you talk, your voice breaks, tears flooding your eyes as you cover your face.
“Hey, hey, c’mere.” He motions, hugging you with his nice arm. Good thing he wasn't invited, or else you'll know perfectly fine where the asshole was. Buried six feet under.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” You say, but still burying your face on his chest. “I should get over it, I know. It's been months now, but…”
“No apologies, bonnie. That's a perfectly acceptable reaction.” He says, cupping your face to look at your face. Fuck, are breathtakingly stunning when crying. “Fuck him, all right? You were always too good for him anyway.”
He knows he is exposing himself like this, and that it is obviously not fair to you. But his eyes land on your parted lips, and fuck does he wants to bite. Something must click inside your head, because you suddenly turn around, walking again and wiping the tears from your face. 
“Yeah, you are right, Johnny. Fuck him.” You say, smiling at him but sadness is still in your eyes.
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It isn't until a couple of days later that he doesn't get to talk to you alone again. He is lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone before going to sleep. A knock on his door disrupts him.
“C’mon in.” He says, looking at the door waiting to see who is it. Happiness floods his senses when he sees it's you.
“Are you busy?” You ask, only your head poking in. Soap quickly shakes his head, patting the bed next to him. You walk inside the room and sit cross-legged next to him. “Is it okay if I sleep here tonight? Your sister is beating me up on his sleep. At least I hope she's asleep.” 
He simply peels the covers back, letting you get inside. He lets his phone on the bedside table, focusing only on you, and lays on his side, grateful the wounded shoulder in on the left side. 
“How's your shoulder?” You ask, grabbing a finger from the hand resting on his chest.
“It's better, glad it's not my right one. I wouldn't be able to do anything.” He says
You smile at him, your hand moving to play with the name tags on his chest. “Do you know that Adam was deadly jealous of you?”
“What? He had you, what could I have to make him jealous?” He asks, not even realising his declaration of love.
“My attention.” You answer, looking at his face. “He always said that he didn't know why I was marrying him if it was clear I was in love with you.” 
He looks at your face, catching you looking at his lips. “Were you?”
“Hm?”
“In love with me, were you?”
“To the bone.”
And that's all he needs before he's crushing his lips on yours. He hates he can't move his arm, needing to push you closer. But lucky for him, you do it yourself. Moving your arms around his neck, getting as close as you can.
He rolls, moving you along to lay on top of him, finally moving the arm he was propping himself on to pull you closer. Butterflies on his stomach going nuts at his lifelong crush kissing him, taking the breath from his lungs.
You straddle his hips, leaning down to keep kissing him as his hand finds its way to the back of your head. “I love you, bonnie. I have loved you for years.” He whispers against your lips, making you whimper. 
“Show it to me, Johnny. Show me how much.” You whisper against his lips, moaning when he grinds his hips around your clothed cunt.
His hand pulls his sweatshirt off of you, you help him take it off, and it leaves you bare from hips up. He groans at the sight, his hand moving to your arse to push you forward so he can kiss your boob. 
You sit at his chest, his hand getting under your pants and underwear, him grunting when he feels your wetness on his fingertips. You arch your back when his finger easily slips inside because of how slick your entrance is, him moaning around your chest; sucking and licking at your nipple making you moan. 
“Johnny.” You moan, him shushing you quickly.
“I ken, bonnie. But I need to get this tight pussy ready, right? Make you feel good.” He moans when he feels your hand palm his crotch. “Fuck, press it harder, love.”
A second finger enters your cunt, stretching you as he scissors them. You pull his pants and underwear down, enough for his dick to spring free. You marvel your eyes on the thick, veiny, heavy piece of meat between his legs, wondering about the taste of the oozing precum from his tip; a sharp pain on your nipple pulling you away when Soap bites down. 
“Don't even think about it, bonnie. Not today.” He says, his fingers pulling out of you and tugging the pants down. “Take them off, love. And lay on your side.”
You quickly do as he says, hating that you need to stand away from him to do it. You lay next to him, his eyes glued on your body. He grunts, managing to keep his arm under you, pulling you against him. 
This one is officially his most hated injury up to date, needing to push you closer. He latches at your neck, tasting, sucking and biting your skin. Wanting more, needing more. 
“You need a hand, Johnny?” You ask, heavy breathing when you feel his hard dick probe around your pussy but not being able to enter you without a hand around it.
Johnny chuckles in your ear. “Bonnie, I'll rip my arm off to do it if you don't help me right now.”
You laugh back at him, lowering a hand between your legs parting them and fisting his dick making him moan as you align it with your entrance.
Your laugh turns into a moan when he slowly starts to sink in. When he finally bottoms out, he stays still for a minute, hugging you, pulling you close. You turn your head back and kiss him deeply, he starts to move his hips, catching with his mouth every moan that slips from yours. 
It is such a chaotic situation, one of his arms is trapped inside of the sling, the other is trapped under your body, he is still wearing all his clothes, and you are having sex on his childhood bedroom with his mom and sister just on the other side of the hall. 
Still, it's the best sex of your life. His dick is stretching you as no other dick has ever, he is reaching places inside of you that have never been touched before and that now will need to be touched forever, he keeps kissing you like you were an oxygen tank in the depths of the ocean and you wish you would stay like this forever. 
But with the way his hips are thrusting into you and the hand under your body finds its way to your clit, you know there is not much left.
“I love you, bonnie. I fucking love you so much.” He says between moans. “I'm gonna marry you and I'm gonna love you forever. Gonna make a family with you, bonnie. I love you, I can't wait to fucking marry you. Marry me, please, bonnie.”
“Yes, fuck” you moan back, nails sinking into the skin of his ass when you grab him urging him to fuck you harder. 
Johnny thinks is the longest couple of minutes until you finally cum, wanting to hold on just to feel you clench around him; milking him dry when you do with his name in your mouth. 
The two of you stay panting, still in each other embrace. Johnny's dick still softening inside of you with no urge to get it out. 
“Did you mean it?” You ask him.
“Did you?” He asks back, suddenly too aware of what he just said.
“I meant it if you did.” You say childishly, turning your head around.
“I did.” He says, looking at your eyes. “We should probably date before getting married, right?”
“Maybe not.” You say, still looking at his eyes.
You stay looking at each other eyes, looking for any kind of doubt in them. You speak first; “The courthouse opens at 9.”
“We can have breakfast after.” He says, as if that's the correct answer.
“I'd love to have breakfast with you tomorrow, Johnny.” You answer, because to you it is the right answer. 
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Hii, lovies!! 💗
Let me know if you liked it and if you'll like to write any of the other options of the ask 💗
Oh, and also, there is BIG little something starting today hehe so stay tunned my beloved ❤️❤️❤️
TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @lunari0 @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @dilara-del @multifandomheathenannie @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles
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bitterchocoo · 7 months
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The Never Ending Rain
Imbibitor Lunae . Dan Heng | M. Reader as Neuvilette
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"It's raining... Why is it still raining..?"
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The day Imbibitor Lunae decided to do the unthinkable was a tragic one.. So many people have lost faith and trust.
But one thing stood out from the rest...
It's raining... How..? This is the first time the Luofu ever rained... Is it even possible? For the ship to rain like that...
The Vidyadhara was as clueless as them. They don't remember ever doing something that may cause rain to happen. Even the Divination Commission was confused. In the entirety of their lives, never had they thought they'll ever see rain as a thing they now should worry about. It was strange.. A phenomenon of great mystery..
And so, the Seat of Divine Foresight search day and night for any information that might tell them what's happening, was it a prophecy? An old legend?
That's when they found it, in an old scroll, they say...
The legend says that, a dragon of water once resided in Luofu. Though the Luofu doesn't know where the dragon went, every time they weep the skies will cloud up and pour out rain. And they say that if you want to go out while the skies are clouded, yell out toward the sky at the top of your lungs.
"Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don't cry!"
Soon this Hydro Dragon became a normal legend you'll hear everywhere on the Luofu, even visitors had become accustomed with the legend.
Some poets write about it, some storytellers make up some stories about the legend, and so on and so on. Some even made theories as to why the dragon cries on that specific day... The day that Imbibitor Lunae was banished...
Some of them made sense, while the others are just words being put together and hope something sticks.
.
.
Then... The Nameless arrived...
Kafka had informed them about the Stellaron but she never said anything about the rain.. At first they thought that it was the Stellaron's doing until Miss Tingyun told them about the legend.
Never have they thought such a legend exists but here it is, the cloud up skies and the pouring rain.
March was more than excited when she found out about the legend, yelling out those words in the efforts that the dragon heard it and stopped crying. She expresses her sympathy to the dragon, talking to Mr. Yang and Stelle of how sad it is and start to make her own theories as to why the dragon is crying.
.
.
But on Dan Heng's side...
He was immediately met by rain the moment he steps on the Luofu, he knows full well why that is, his chest hurts at the thought of it before mumbling out an apology and heading out to wherever the trio is at.
During the course of his journey, Luocha and Sushang talk regarding the seemingly endless rain. Some say that it hasn't stopped raining since a specific day, sure there are some days where the skies are clear but that's only for a moment as rain pours out once again. As if the pain and suffering the dragon felt won't go away no matter how hard they try to forget about it.
This got Dan Heng thinking...
It hasn't stopped raining since back then..? This only adds up to his guilt.
To think that... That man cried that much... For a man that was banished...
He can't help but feel guilty because of it.
.
.
While the trio's journey continues, they soon meet the Chief Justice, [Name] [L.Name].
The man could be seen as aloof, distant, maybe even cold as his expression never changes from a neutral one. But despite that he's quite kind to people. As March would put it "Nicer Dan Heng."
They were surprised when the Judge leap from his seat and took care of the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus that invaded the courtroom, they never thought the ever so calm Judge could fight.
As time went on, [Name] insisted on going with them with the excuse that they needed all hands on deck with this crisis. Which isn't wrong.. So they let him. Then... They finally arrived at Scalegorge Waterscape... The flash of hurt and recognition on [Name]'s eyes as he saw the very person that had abandoned him...
As if clockwork, the skies began to cloud up once more.
"It's going to rain again." Stelle says as she looks up to the cloud sky. "Yeah you're right, and here I thought the sky's going to be clear a lot longer. Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don't cry!" March yelled out, looking at the sky with hope in her eyes, she actually likes that phrase because it sounded like she was comforting someone.
"Miss March I would appreciate it if you focus on our main objective here, I believe the Stellaron is a much bigger threat than the Hydro dragon." Jing Yuan spoke up, reminding them of their current objective.
"Not to mention it's just a legend, I don't think the skies will clear up just because you say that." Fu Xuan added.
Dan Heng only stays silent before approaching [Name] with a heavy heart. He knew what caused the rain.. Or rather... He knew who the Hydro dragon is...
[Name] is standing far away from the group as if he's collecting his thoughts, this doesn't surprise the group as the man would usually be like that. Like March says, a "Nicer Dan Heng." With hesitation, Dan Heng wrapped his arms on the dragon's waist as he hugged him from behind, burying his face on the taller man's back and mumbled out. "Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don't cry."
This caught the Judge off guard, did he hear that right? Did Dan Feng—No... Dan Heng just said that to him? As if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders and maybe his heart...
The skies cleared up.
"See! Did you guys see that!" March pointed out with excitement, her words have reached the dragon!
The group looked up at the clear sky with wide eyes, the sky had cleared up... So the legend is real..? People from the Cloud Knights usually think that the legend is just that.. A legend... But to see it for themselves as the skies cleared up once March said those words...
...Unknown to them it was Dan Heng who had comforted the dragon.
[Name] placed his glove hand on top of Dan Heng's before mumbling a small "thank you." But what was it for? Thank you for comforting him? Or was it a thank you for coming back?
Only [Name] knows.
He then patted his hand as if silently telling him to let go, Jing Yuan's right they have more important matters to attend to and Phantylia needs to be stop. Dan Heng reluctantly let go as he took a few steps back. He needs to separate the sea to get to Scalegorge Waterscape.
As Dan Heng gets ready, he tries to use his powers. Only for it to falter as if he's missing something.
Dan Heng tries again. "Hearken, as arbor revives and foe nears, we call forth the mighty waters of ancient sea, to flood abodes of heaven and quell roots of evil. We etch this in stone for all to heed."
It didn't work.
He tries to remember what he was missing he had said the incantation perfectly, and his power is completely at its peak... so what is he missing..?
He tries again, with his hand reach out he say the incantation one more time. "Hearken, as-"
Dan Heng stopped himself once he heard [Name] saying the incantation with him, he turn his head to the side and saw the other man standing next to him with his right hand stretched out, [Name] looks at Dan Heng and gave him a small nod before looking straight ahead. Giving a small nod in return, Dan Heng looks back at the ancient sea.
"Hearken, as arbor revives and foe nears, we call forth the mighty waters of ancient sea, to flood abodes of heaven and quell roots of evil. We etch this in stone for all to heed."
And just like that... the ancient sea separates...
The group was taken aback by this sudden revelation. Dan Heng wasn't able to do it on his own... and needed [Name] to do it with him...
But that can't be... a normal man can't just separate an ancient sea...
Unless...
"Your Honor... are you...?" Jing Yuan spoke up as he looks at [Name] in disbelief. The said man only sigh before giving him a firm nod. Jing Yuan smiles at the answer he was given, a confirmation.
[Name] [L. Name], the Chief Justice of the Luofu... a Judge in a courtroom... is the Hydro dragon.
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roosterr · 23 days
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by your hand | 01
kyle garrick x gn!reader x john soap mactavish
wc: 3.4k summary: johnny leaves you alone again, and kyle is more than happy to fill the space he left behind. warnings: unrequited love (for now), love triangle -> poly pipeline, lots pining longing and desiring, gaz is kind of a nervous wreck, a tiny bit of angst, tasteful clichés, everybody is down bad
so,,, i'm starting another series. don't look at me. based on a request i got forever ago and this idea <3
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will you let me know if john is coming home tonight? 21:04
the text from you sits open on kyle's phone, the only light illuminating his face in his otherwise dark living room. a deep sigh escapes him as he drags a hand down his face, a fruitless attempt to rid himself of the sinking feeling weighing down on him.
johnny's not coming home, kyle knows he’s not, and if you’re texting him then deep down, you must know that too. he’s meeting up with the same hookup from last week, some guy he met at the pub that kyle knows nothing about because he’d hung up the phone before soap could get too into his usual bragging; and though he hadn’t listened to the details, a twisting ache lingered in his chest for the rest of the day after that.
didn't he tell you? he's staying with another friend tonight 21:07
oh okay 21:11
your curt response sends another pang of guilt through him. how soap could be so blind – as well as just plain stupid – he had no idea, but he'll be damned if he doesn't take advantage of this opportunity.
his fingers hover above the keyboard, twitching over the letters as he tries to come up with something to say. he could do what he always does, tell you 'of course' and 'don't worry'; or, he could actually do something. he could give in to his selfish desires for once and allow himself to have you, if only for the evening.
and, really, it's been months of this; all the lingering stares he sends your way, touches that last just long enough to still give him plausible deniability – and when you text him like this, the going back and forth over whether it was the right time to make a move, but every time he he finds some bullshit excuse not to.
tonight is different though. he's been patient, and he's not sure he can stop himself from giving in this time.
the decision was made before he even finished the thought. he types out the message and deletes it five times before he decides to just bite the bullet and send it.
maybe i could come round and keep you company? i'll stop by tescos and grab popcorn and we could watch a film? just the two of us? 21:22
the minutes between him sending the text and you reading it are borderline painful. he doesn’t know how you’re going to respond, and that was utterly maddening. maybe he crossed a line, or maybe he'd come on too strong and you could tell how pathetically into you he was–
the buzz of your response cuts his overthinking short. he unlocks his phone with lightning speed the same moment the notification comes through.
that would be nice thanks kyle :) 21:24
his heart stutters in his chest, and an excited grin lifts the corners of his lips. he reads the message a few more times, just to make sure he didn't dream it up, but it doesn't change between blinks. a light feeling replaces the guilt from earlier.
you said yes. you’re going to watch a movie with him, in your flat, just the two of you. with a slightly embarrassing fist pump, he thanks the stars for aligning to make this happen and rushes to the front door. he grabs his jacket and pulls his shoes on in record time, and he's just about to slip his phone into his pocket next to his keys, but it buzzes again before he can.
get sweet and salty pls xxxxx 21:25
a fond chuckle passes his lips at that, the feeling in his heart only getting warmer as he locks the door behind him and makes a beeline for his car.
on it boss 21:25
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less than fifteen minutes later kyle is standing outside your building, plastic bag in one hand and the other pressing the buzzer for your flat. he absently wonders what soap would think if he knew about this, if he’d object or if he’d even care in the first place, but once again his worries are interrupted by the click of the front door unlocking.
the easy, if slightly more toned down, smile from earlier is back on kyle’s face as he takes the stairs two at a time – the lift would’ve been too slow, he reasons, and he wants to make the most of every second he has with you.
his footsteps echo through the hall as he finally approaches your flat, his grip on the bag tightening and his heart rate picking up the closer he gets. he’s a moment away from knocking, fist poised above the door, when it swings open to reveal you with a similarly excited grin on your face.
kyle eyes gravitate to yours, lifting the hand holding the bag and somewhat awkwardly leaning the one still hovering on the doorframe. "package secured, boss."
his words get a soft chuckle from you, as you step to the side and gestures for him to come in.
"good work, sarge," you tease, shutting the door behind him and taking the bag from his hand as you make your way to the kitchen, "you can pick what we watch, i can't make a decision like that!"
"roger that," his smile is evident in his voice when he calls after you, "but you're not allowed to complain about my choice!"
"better not pick something shit, then!"
kyle watches you go while he undoes his laces, and takes the opportunity to admire the way you look in your pyjamas. it was just a big jumper and some comfy trousers, nothing special, but a burning heat still rises to the tips of his ears all the same.
this is what soap had to come home to every night? and he still chose not to?
he shakes his head to rid himself of the thought and hangs his jacket on the empty hook by the door, beside yours. tonight, you were his, and he was determined to push all thoughts about his idiot best friend out of your mind.
the movie he'd picked is already waiting for you when you shuffle into the living room, the bowl of popcorn in your hands as you flop down onto the sofa beside him.
"hot fuzz?" you ask, placing the bowl in the space between you and popping a few pieces into your mouth.
"yeah, you seen it?" he presses play on the remote, and you shake your head with a curious smile on your face. he grabs a few pieces of popcorn himself, and tilts his head to give you an eager grin. "oh, it's brilliant, love, one of my all time favourites."
you hum thoughtfully, and with your eyes locked onto the screen, kyle takes the opportunity to lay his arm across the back of the sofa, just behind your shoulders. his heart hammers against his sternum, and he subconsciously holds his breath when you settle further into the sofa, closing the distance between you ever so slightly.
"well, you've set my expectations very high, kyle." you shoot him a playful look that he readily mirrors, before focusing your gaze back on the movie. he breathes a quiet sigh of relief that you didn't comment on his manoeuvre, the nervous tension melting from his muscles.
it's hard not to be comfortable around you. even when you're just sitting in each other's presence, it comes so naturally, like it's by design. despite the movie being one of his favourites, he can't help the way his gaze drifts to your profile.
do you see this as a date? because kyle definitely does. or, he wants to, but does it really count if it's just him that thinks that way? was he reading too far into this?
lost in his anxieties, he doesn't realise that when he reaches to grab some popcorn that you do the same, and the sparks that fly up his arm from where your fingers brush startle him back down to earth. he braves a look at you, a bashful smile finding its way onto his face as he meets your eyes.
"you were right," you murmur, and dart your eyes back to the screen in an almost nervous way, "this is really good."
a satisfied feeling blooms in his chest knowing that you liked his choice. "it's part of a trilogy, y'know. we'll have to watch the other two at some point."
there's a pause then, where you get a contemplative look on your face, and kyle holds his breath waiting for your response.
"maybe not tonight," your gaze falls to your lap, and he's afraid for a moment that he'd overstepped before you continue, "but i'd like that."
he smiles at you again, giving your leg a small nudge with his own. "next time soap is out pub crawling, then, yeah?"
your expression twitches downwards, darkening for a split second that he just about catches, before you put on an obviously forced smile. "yeah, sounds good."
fuck.
why did he say that? soap is the last person you want to be thinking about, and the last person he wanted to bring up tonight, so why on earth did he say that?
the silence that follows is negatively charged. your eyes are locked onto the tv screen, but there's a distracted look in them now.
kyle clears his throat, trying to swallow down the hot embarrassment rising to his face, "sorry. shouldn't've brought him up, should i?"
you seem to flinch at his words, your head snapping to fix him with an incredulous look as you stumble over your words. "why– what? why? he does live here."
"i know you like him." kyle frowns when you click your tongue, continuing with a more serious tone than he's had all night, "and i know you know where he is."
you open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. guilt claws at the inside of his ribcage watching you swallow hard, blinking away the despair in your eyes as you face the tv again.
"i don't like him." you mumble, pulling your knees up to your chest and pointedly ignoring kyle’s eyes on you.
he wants to say something, to make this better somehow, but the damage has already been done. god, why did he even start this in the first place? everything was going so well before he said anything, so why did he have to spoil it? 
your brows pull tighter and tighter the longer with every second that goes without a response from him, until you eventually get tired of the concerned look he's giving you and snap. "i don't, kyle! and why should i care what he does with his free time? he's his own man!"
there's a waiver to your voice that only adds to the heaviness building in the pit of his stomach. he shifts his arm from where it rests on the back of the sofa to curl around your shoulders. the movie is still playing in the background, but neither of you are paying attention to it anymore.
"i'm not judging you. we both know how much of a dickhead he is." kyle murmurs, a soft attempt to comfort you while he gently tugs you closer to his side.
you turn your head towards him again, a drained look in your eyes. they glisten with steadily building tears, and kyle's heart breaks at the sight.
"but he's not, not to you or your friends, it's just me that he's– he's like this, i…" your words get stuck in your throat as the first few tears spill past your eyelashes. "...why did it have to be him? i don't–"
"hey, hey," he coos, moving the bowl of popcorn to the coffee table so he can pull you fully into his embrace, "take a deep breath for me, alright?"
you bury your face into his chest, but he still hears the way your breath hitches, and feels the subtle trembling of your shoulders. he draws soothing shapes over your shirt, and he knows that now is the most inappropriate time to be thinking this, but when his fingers brush the skin of your upper arm, the sparks from the contact are impossible to ignore.
the minutes that pass by listening to your muffled sniffling could've been hours and kyle wouldn't have known the difference. he wishes more than anything that he could take your pain away, but the most he can do is be your listening ear and your shoulder to cry on.
eventually you do lift your head from his chest, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks and facing the tv to avoid his eyes. "i'm sorry, i don't know why i'm– i ruined tonight–"
"no you didn't, i'm the one who upset you," kyle murmurs, still with his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to him. he tilts his head to catch your reddened gaze in the dim light from the tv screen, watching you slowly nod in response.
"god, fucking hell…" you mutter, leaning forward with your elbows n your knees, dropping your face to rest in your palms. his frown deepens as you slowly release a deep breath, the anxiety from earlier returning to worry him that he'd crossed a line.
"if you need some space, i can go?" kyle removes his hand from where it rests on your back, suddenly hyper aware of how close the two of you had just been – and the hot feeling of his blood as it races through his veins. "if… if you want, yeah?"
"no, no. i– don't go." you stutter, lifting your head just enough to give him a weak glance from the corner of your eye.
"alright," he murmurs, feeling a sense of relief that you didn't outright tell him to piss off, "i'm here."
he moves his arm to rest on the back of the sofa again, an open invite that he's desperately hoping you'll take.
for the second time tonight, the stars align perfectly in his favour, and you lean back to fit seamlessly to his side, your head resting on his bicep. he has to force himself to relax, and consciously remember to breathe.
he would've been satisfied with just that, your proximity to him more than he could've hoped for, but then you whisper something that threatens to stop his heart completely.
"...why couldn't it've been you?"
what?
…what?
did he hear you right? you want it to be him? it could've just been a throwaway comment, but kyle’s never felt such a light feeling in his chest, his head spinning like he might wake up from this dream at any second.
but it's not a dream, because when you stiffen in his hold, he feels the way your muscles pull taught, and he feels your lungs expand with the sharp intake of breath as he says his next words, barely more than a whisper.
"...it can be."
time seems to freeze as you both process what he means. his stare doesn't falter on your profile, watching every minute expression and waiting with bated breath for a response. moments go by with nothing but the white noise of the tv in the background, illuminating the room in multicoloured flashes that highlight the wide-eyed expression you wear.
"what?" you mumble, slowly turning you heard as your eyes give in to the pull of his, meeting kyle’s equally astonished gaze as the air between you turns thick.
he swallows hard, resisting the nervous urge to look away. "it can be me, if that's what you want."
you stare at each other, a good kind of tension sparking in the distance that still separates you.
"kyle, i… i can't do that to you." you murmur, your brows tilting in a display of the turmoil just under the surface. "you deserve more than that…"
you blink and turn your gaze down to the buttons on his shirt. he still stares at you. he takes your hand with his free one, dragging his thumb tenderly over your knuckles. you look back to him, uncertainty swimming in your eyes.
"i– i don't care," the blood rushes in his ears, anticipation and disbelief lighting his nerves on fire as he stares intently into your eyes, not even daring to blink, "i've always wanted you."
"kyle…" you whisper, quiet and unsure, but you don't pull away.
he's toeing the line, he knows, but you're not rejecting him. there's something in him that just can't ignore the fact that he's making a move on his best friend's flatmate, especially when he knows you like soap – but there's a bigger part of him that doesn't care, that just wants you in any way he can have you.
he lets go of your hand to cradle your face, moulding his hand to the shape of where your jaw meets your neck, and edges his face closer to yours.
"tell me you don't want this," kyle murmurs, watching your lashes brush your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter closed, "tell me to stop, and i will."
he waits, his breathing shallow, for you to say something. he almost wants you to stop him, if only so he doesn't get a chance to fuck this up – but you don't.
you lean further into him, placing your own hand over top of his, and respond in a breathy sigh that he just about hears, "...don't hurt me."
and without a second of hesitation, kyle whispers in reply, "wouldn't dream of it."
he only just gets the words out before you're gently slotting your lips against his. there's a split second of shock where all kyle can do is reel from your touch, but he quickly shakes it off and reciprocates with a shaky sigh against your mouth. he uses the hand on your face to draw you even closer, moving to hold the back of your head while his other arm winds around your waist. 
everything except you is completely forgotten – the drag of your finger as they find his neck, the soft noises you let out under his ministrations, and the dizzying, borderline addictive feeling of your body against his.
he can't help the groan that escapes him when your nails meet his scalp, the blunt scratch only adding to the list of sensations that he'll be thinking about long into the night.
there's a twinge of disappointment within him when you eventually pull away, both of you breathing heavily and holding each other as close as you can. kyle watches your eyes flutter open again, looking deep into his with a hazy, unfocused look to them.
an easy smile pulls at his lips, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek where his hand still rests. you let your own hand fall to his chest, a tiny smile of your own finding its way onto your face.
"we can take it slow, yeah?" kyle murmurs, searching your eyes for any hint of uncertainty that could be hiding there.
"yeah." your voice is airy, still somewhat out of breath as you rest your forehead against his. "you're too good to me kyle."
kyle huffs a quiet chuckle at that, leaning back just enough to be able to see you properly. "'course i'm not, you've just never been treated right."
he feels the heat that rises to your face, and sees your smile grow before you tuck your head just under his collar, turning your attention back to the movie while he chuckles at your reaction.
for the rest of the night, it feels like he's on cloud nine. even as the movie ends and you agree to call it a night, the only thing on his mind is when he can see you again.
"next week," you promise, "we can watch the next one."
he's never wanted the days between today and next friday to pass him by so badly.
when he stands in your doorway and gives you one last peck on the cheek, the smile you give him makes his head and heart feel unbelievably light. even as he's leaving, sending a longing glance back down the hall just before the doors of the lift close, that giddy feeling doesn't leave him.
soap doesn't deserve you, he never did, and kyle would help you finally see that.
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highpri3stess · 2 months
Text
Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
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Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils
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Pairing: Mikey Sano x Fem Reader x Izana Kurokawa
series summary: your grievous sin was emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
chapter summary: the two brothers realize that peace with emma is within their grasp, they just need your cooperation
chapter warning: dark content, 18+ nsfw, character x character smut - cunnilingnus, struggling with sexual attraction, angst, mention of assault, physical violence, slut shaming, misogyny, intrusive/dark impulsive thoughts of murder and rape, manipulation, gaslighting, objectification of reader, mental health struggles, masking, breaking and entering, smut -character x reader, reader is threatened with r*pe, dubious consent, coercion, making out, dry humping, cunnilingus (reader receiving), pussy job, terrible aftercare, religious themes and guilt, panty stealing.
wc: 12.3k
masterlist||chapter 2||chapter 4
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“NGH, K-ken -more please-”
There is nothing more divine to Emma than what Draken was doing to her right now.
It was supposed to be a normal morning after a wild night. She had told Ken last night, after round five, going to round six that she had a test tomorrow, one she absolutely could not miss and he had promised her no shenanigans.
Unfortunately, Ken is not one to keep those kind of promises. She’s not sure why he decided to be touchy today; maybe it was the two weeks of no contact until you pushed her into accepting Draken’s proposal for a date night.
Whatever it was, it got the man in such a rut that he couldn’t help himself but to eat her out.
Her legs spread out wide on either side of Ken, his head buried in between her thighs, lips latched onto her clit, his tongue licking circles. Yellow eyes cast down to Draken, her hand gripping his long blond hair, forcing him to stay put.
Emma knew there was no need for that. Ken is her good boy and she is his good girl. They would do anything to keep each other happy, even if it breaks either of them.
She can’t help but let out soft moans at the gentleness of his tongue, the way his large fingers rubbed the sides of her waist to keep her grounded, occasionally rolling his tongue to her hole, before trailing back up to her clit. The girl felt her back lift from the bed, arching in a perfect circle, her heels digging into the bed. Ken hums into her pussy, sending vibrations onto her clit and a wave of electricity down her spine.
“Ken, fuck more-” she gasped, feeling his long tongue swipe up her clit, his mouth engulfed around her pussy. “Oh yesyesyes- ah”
Emma felt like she was in cloud nine, so high with bliss underneath Draken’s touch. Whenever she was with him, all her problems disappeared for a moment and everything felt so, so good. She didn’t have to think about university or lecturers sucking up to her because of her eldest brother, she didn’t have to think about Mikey and Izana bothering her or their actions or anything.
She didn’t have to think about you.
You with your soft gaze, laughing gently at whatever joke she might have told you -it wasn’t that funny and yet Emma found herself smiling along with you. Your smile, so beautiful when genuine it reflects in your eyes. Your warm skin that she looks for any excuse to touch, to feel you. The way you looked at her shocked when she showed you the knowledge she retained from Taekwondo, underneath her sweaty body, your chest rising and falling.
‘No! shit. I’m not meant to do this now. Not again’ She panicked, trying to focus on Draken’s ministrations again.
But her thoughts kept drifting back to you. Emma’s strong hands securing your thighs, pushing you down to her face until you're on top, her tongue working on your clit and hole while Draken eats her out as well. 
It was too late, the mere thought sent a wave of electricity to her clit, combined with Draken’s touch.
Her two favorite people, sandwiched between them. You’re more innocent, unskilled and Emma is willing to let both her and Draken pamper you, his large hands cupping your breast as he fucks into her while you grind on her face. Or you on the bed, Emma watching Draken fuck you stupid while she touches herself to the thought. 
‘C-can’t help it.’ She relishes in his touch and her imaginations, now switching to just you and her, your bodies pressed together as she rubs her clit on yours, gently kissing you. ‘I want you (name), I want you I want you-’
Emma cried out as she orgasmed hard, white filling her vision. Draken’s tongue worked her through the feeling, letting her grind on his face as she rode it out until she couldn’t, falling flat on her back on the pillows.
She tried to catch her breath the moment it was over, mulling over the feeling of post euphoric bliss. Draken crawled from between her legs and laid on top of her, lowering his lips to hers in an open mouthed kiss. She hummed, relishing her taste on his tongue secretly wishing it was yours too.
The man pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, just staying in silence with her as he usually did after a session. A pang of post nut guilt hit her for thinking about you like that. It felt so wrong and disrespectful, especially knowing how well you trusted her and how she cherishes you so much. You’re her friend, she’s not supposed to imagine you in such vulnerable positions, not when you probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such thoughts and not when she is in bed with someone else.
Not when you might not have feelings beyond friendship.
She didn't realize her face was scrunched up in a frown until Draken traced a large palm to her face and pressed his finger between her brows, rubbing circles in the space. “Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “At least that’s what you told me.”
She rolled her eyes in response, swatting his hand away as she shoved her guilt at the furthest corner of her mind. “It’s a stupid myth I told you so that you stop scaring my other friends that don’t know you. And there’s nothing wrong with wrinkles.”
He smiled mischievously, the kind that Emma was used to when he was about to push her buttons like always. “So what’s with all the beauty products?”
“Get off my case Ken.” she hissed at him, but there was no malicious intent behind her tone. “Besides you and Mikey steal my very expensive products any time either of you come here. Buy your own shit.”
“You steal the fries off my plate, too.”
“The fries are 5 dollars, Ken, you’ll live.”
Draken opened his mouth to retort when her phone rang throughout the room, interrupting whatever playful argument they were having. Emma smirked, silently claiming victory by default as she rolled off the bed -nude and walked over to her phone on the reading table, picking it up.
‘(Name)?’
That didn’t sound right. You never called her this early in the morning, stating that you prefered silence until at least nine am. No matter how hard Emma tried indoctrinating you to work out with her by six am, you were never a morning person, oftentimes falling asleep on the treadmill. It was rare to see you call in the morning and those were usually emergencies.
Emma picked up her phone with trembling hands, and an unfamiliar wave of fear settled in her gut. The last time she got a call that made her so nervous, Keisuke Baji was badly injured to the point he nearly lost his life.
‘No.’ Emma whispered to herself convincingly, steeling her resolve. ‘Maybe it’s an emergency wardrobe malfunction or she needs my laptop.’ her finger hovered on the answer button, gut feeling getting worse as she slid the green phone icon upwards. ‘It’s just something minor. Something minor-’
“hey-”
“Are you Emma Sano?” An unfamiliar masculine voice instead of yours responded, making Emma’s heart sink even further into her belly, already assuming the worst. “Y-yes. Is there a problem?”
“Yes. (Name) (last name) was assaulted last night. She is currently in the intensive care unit receiving treatment at hospital.”
The moment those words hit Emma, she felt incredibly ill to her stomach. It was as if the earth stopped spinning, time freezing her in place as she realized what had happened to you. She could picture it; you all alone, left to die some place possibly crying for her while she was having fun with Draken. Bile filled her throat but Emma quickly swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste -throwing up wasn’t going to help you now, she needed to find you and see if you were okay.
“Hello? Ms. Sano?”
Emma steeled her resolve, taking in a deep breath before continuing, her voice threatening to break. “Yes. I’ll be right there soon. Thank you.”
Emma discarded the phone on the table as soon as the call ended, moving towards the wardrobe in quick strides without another word like a robot. Draken raised a brow in confusion at her sudden mood shift, pushing the sheets off his limbs and started walking up to her. “Em? What happened?” He asked “who called?”
“(Name) is in the hospital. Dress up, you’re taking me there.”
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  MIKEY hated morning classes.
The professor had been droning on about DNA profiling for the past two hours and the blond had already lost any form of interest he might have had the first thirty minutes of the class. At times like these, he’s thankful that he was only in university just to have a backup for whatever business he was going to venture in and felt pity for whoever this was their only choice.
Nothing of any significance has happened since that day in his car. You vehemently avoided him when he tried approaching Emma- which irritated him because he felt your actions are uncalled for. Izana hadn’t taken him seriously when he made the connection between you and Emma, so there was no need to pursue you any further, for now. He had asked Makoto to keep tabs on you for him, in case Izana eventually changes his mind, which Mikey knows he will do after Emma ignores him once again.
And just, for keeping tabs sake.
It wasn’t like he replayed the scene in his mind when he touched himself, thinking about how good you would feel around his cock instead of his fingers. Or that he scrolled through Emma’s instagram with his secret account and went through the photos you appeared in, admiring your smile, your pretty face and sometimes exposed thighs.
Maybe he had judged you too harshly based on his own assumptions. Hakkai had told them about your past in high school; how you were the topic of discussion in the boys locker room. They had all made a bet that Hakkai was roped into to show that he wasn’t weak- to get you to lose your virginity to either one of them in your class.
And eventually, one boy claimed he did it. Saying you even slept with the entire lacrosse team -which he was a part of- and showed them what they assumed to be your panties as proof.
Mikey conveniently left out the part that Hakkai had said was just a rumor that nearly ruined your life when telling everyone else the story.
“Alright, class dismissed! I have your tests graded and I will be sending them to you via email-”
“Thank goodness, it’s finally over” Mikey groaned, pushing himself out of his chair and rushing towards the door along with other students eager to leave. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about his studies - he was far more careful about his grades here than in high school; but it didn’t mean that he had as much patience to sit through an entire lecture without zoning out.
His stomach growled, bringing him back to reality. Since there wasn’t another class until 1pm, Mikey decided to take a well-deserved break and get food from outside the campus. He contemplated on asking Haruchiyo to do it for him, noting how his childhood friend was so obsessed with doing anything for a silver of his attention, but ultimately decided against it. Haruchiyo’s constant fawning usually was nice but it gets very suffocating pretty fast-
“Mikey! MIKEY YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”
Mikey paused in his tracks, turning his head around to see Draken storming towards him, face red and teeth gritted so hard that any more force would chip the edges. Confused, the blonde haired male tried to think of what he could have done that would have caused his best friend to be so furious, he’s causing a scene instead of settling it behind doors as usual.
Sure, they’ve been at each other’s throats because Ken thought that Mikey should have apologized for being disrespectful towards you that night, but that was it.
Nothing came to mind. What the hell was going on?
“Ken-chin calm down-”
Before Mikey could even finish speaking, Draken’s fist made its way to his jaw, the force pushing him to the ground entirely. Mikey didn’t even get a chance to defend himself as more barrages of heavy blows rained down on his eye, his nose, his lips, his cheeks and any part of his body from an angry Ken. 
“YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? DO YOU LOVE BREAKING YOUR SISTER’S HEART SO MUCH? DO YOU LOVE MAKING EMMA CRY?”
Each of his words was articulated by his heavy blows, until Mikey could barely feel his face. Any time Mikey attempted to say anything, he received a heavier blow on his mouth.
Essentially telling Mikey to shut up.
A number of hands yanked Draken away from Mikey soon after, trying to hold him back from hitting the blonde again. “FUCK OFF! DAMMIT I NEED TO KNOCK SENSE INTO THAT IDIOT!” Draken yelled, struggling against his friend's grip, wanting to lunge at him at any point in time. “DOES HE KNOW THE DAMAGE HE HAS CAUSED?”
The blond laid on the floor, in pain, shocked and clearly confused on what was happening right now. Ken had only beaten him this hard when Emma had almost gotten hurt because of him and Mikey swore to himself never to put his sister in that kind of situation ever again.
‘Emma … shit is Emma hurt?’
A sense of dread ran down Mikey’s spine. Did something happen to his sister? Is she hurt? in danger? In pain? A lump formed in his throat as his imaginations began to run wild, thinking up scenarios where Emma was hurt, lying in a hospital bed in a hospital.
Picking himself up from the floor until he could stand on his two feet, Mikey turned around to face his dark haired friend that was held back by Mitsuya and Baji. “Can anyone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Mikey started, ignoring the pain spreading throughout his face as he looked at the other two males, also staring back at him, shocked. “Keisuke? Mitsuya?”
“We don’t know-” Mitsuya began, keeping his grip tight on Draken. “He went to Tenjiku’s frat house first, screaming for Izana but then left when they didn’t answer the door. Then he came to Toman’s looking for you. I tried to calm him down but he stormed off-”
“DON’T GIVE HIM AN EXCUSE TO ACT DUMB!” Ken roared, cutting Mitsuya short. “YOU AND YOUR SHITTY BROTHER KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO (NAME).”
‘(name)? Was she with Emma when Draken came to pick her up?’ Mikey mused to himself, in an attempt to piece the entire story together. ‘Don’t tell me she ran her mouth about that day in the car and gave Draken the wrong impression that I hurt her.’
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mikey roared back, his temper also getting the better of him. If this was the reason that Ken was mad at him, he was going to beat his friend twice as hard and then find you to teach you a lesson. Classes be damned. “I haven’t done anything to that skank that warranted this behavior.”
“OH YOU’RE STILL CALLING HER A SKANK?” Draken screamed back, nearly furious. If not for Mucho joining to hold him back, he would have jumped at Mikey again. “YOU HAVE THE GUTS TO CALL HER THAT AFTER PUTTING HER IN A HOSPITAL? HUH?”
“Hospital?” Now Mikey was sure that whatever Draken was mad about was clearly displaced aggression because he hadn’t done ANYTHING to you to the point you would go to a hospital. “What do you mean hospital?”
“God Mikey, stop fucking pretending.” Draken sneered at his friend. “Who did you tell to do it? Huh? Did you tell Kisaki to get someone for you like you alway do? Or you just decided to take care of it yourself this time?”
“Ken-chin I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mikey was at a loss for words at this point, the pain long forgotten as he tried to prove his innocence. “I didn’t do anything to (name). I haven’t even spoken to her since last week.”
The sincerity in Mikey’s voice was enough to calm Draken down, his shoulders visibly deflating in his friend’s grip, chest heaving with each breath the tall male took. “You… you have no idea what happened?” The blonde haired male asked between labored breaths, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t know?”
“Ken-chin,” Mikey started, in between irritated at being attacked and curious as to why. “fuck if I know what happened to her. Why don’t you tell me?”
Understanding that Draken wasn’t going to attack Mikey anymore, both Keisuke and Takashi released him, letting Draken’s bloody knuckles fall at his sides. Draken didn’t look up from the ground, his fist tightly clenched at his sides. “I know you don’t care.” He rasped, his voice strained from all the yelling. “but that innocent girl was violently assaulted last night and now she’s in the ICU.”
Mikey’s outward expression remained neutral. It wasn’t surprising, considering that he never once cared about you and made that clear to everyone who tried to tell him to apologize to you.
“Emma has blamed herself for putting (name) in harm’s way.” Draken murmured, his fists tightening in response to Mikey’s nonchalant look. Of course he didn’t care but couldn’t he pretend to be concerned at least? “Even if neither you nor Izana are involved, it still doesn’t rule out the fact that you both made her to be a public enemy! Do you know how many people would hurt her just to get in your good books? To get into Toman or Tenjiku?” his voice began to rise again, scolding his friend. “You both robbed her of any support system she could ever have in this school because what? Emma became her friend?”
When Mikey didn’t respond, Draken kissed his teeth. “Of course you don’t care.” He spat out. “It doesn’t even bother you at all. And I’m sure that devil of an older brother would be cackling at the news…”
“Draken, calm down, please-” Takashi tried to reason with him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s not say things we will regret later and focus on the person hurt-”
“Forget it.” He hissed, gently pushing Takashi’s hand off his shoulder and started to leave. “I’m going to stay with Emma and check if (name) is stable.” He took a few steps before turning to look at Mikey with a cold expression. “I can’t believe you’re the same guy I call my best friend.”
Mikey watched Draken walk away, his expression neutral. Takashi was the first to follow after, talking about how he should at least treat his knuckles first. Keisuke and him made eye contact, disappointment evident in his dark haired friend’s eyes before he turned around to leave, not opting to tell Mikey anything at all.
They never saw his knuckles whitening from how hard his grip was.
Or the blood dripping down from Mikey’s clenched fists.
‘Izana’
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  “WOAH, what happened to your face?”
It took everything in Mikey to hold back from decking Shion in the face.
The thoughts swarming in his head screamed murder, over and over again, calling to him. He knew that Shion had nothing to do with whatever happened to you - going by his own injured face and swollen eye, Shion is a victim of Izana as well.
He didn’t want to feel this. To hear his own thoughts curse at him, call him horrible names like ‘woman beater’ and ‘heartless’. He hated that even his own head turned against him once again, triggering something so evil and vile in his heart that made him want to see someone bleed out.
He had tried to fight it. The violent nature inside him. He tried to squash it with anything -meditating, drugs, giving into his depraved sexual urges. All that and still, one singular thing could ruin everything he had built.
And it was always Izana.
“Move.”
Shion was about to say something snarky in response, but quickly shut up the moment he noticed how dead Mikey’s expression looked and stepped aside for Mikey to enter into the fraternity house. Rindou raised a brow at Mikey’s presence, looking up from his video game to ask him what he was doing here. Only for him to swiftly turn his attention back to the game, as if he had seen a ghost.
“W-what the fuck” Rindou whispered to himself. “Holy shit he looks pissed.”
Mikey quietly made his way upstairs to Izana’s room, before forcing the door wide open with a loud bang. Izana -fully clothed- doesn’t even flinch at his presence, despite the naked blonde haired girl kneeling in front of him, mid-fingering herself, screaming in surprise, before covering her top half with her hands.
‘(name)’s roommate. Of course.’ Mikey put two and two together. ‘Always willing to sell her out for dick just like last time.’
“You” Mikey snapped at her. “Get out”
“Y-you can’t talk to me like that!” She shouted back at him before turning to Izana with doe eyes. “Baby, tell him to get out-”
She didn’t even get to finish as Izana threw her clothes at her face, before barking at her. “Are you hard of hearing? Get out before I throw you out myself.”
A sob escaped her lips as she quickly shrugged on her dress and ran out. Izana looked back at Mikey, a knowing smile gracing his lips at his younger brother’s obviously furious face.
“Judging by how you’re looking at me, you’ve seen the little present I left Emma.”
Mikey hadn’t realized when he jumped on top his brother and started exchanging blows with him. Izana doesn’t hold back either, wrestling Mikey off the bed to the ground, swinging twice as hard.
“Oh come on,” Izana yelled, articulating his words with brutal blows to Mikey’s jaw and face. “What are you angry about? She’s still alive isn’t she?”
All Mikey saw was red as he head butted his elder brother on his nose, destabilizing him before throwing Izana on the wall pinning him in place as he hit his abdomen repeatedly. “I told you not to do anything stupid.” His voice didn’t change inflection as he switched his direction to Izana’s cheek. “Why the fuck don’t you ever listen to me?”
The older male blocked the last fist aimed at his face and kneed his brother in his stomach, before kicking him to the floor. A psychotic grin made its way to Izana’s face, like the painful blows were nothing to him. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel-” he kicked Mikey in the face, making the blond tumble across the floor. “-bad for the little slut now? Are you in looooveee with her?”
Izana’s mockery only fuelled Mikey’s anger, making him push himself off the ground and kick his brother violently in his face. The white haired man fell straight to the ground, howling with laughter at Mikey’s outburst as the blonde jumped on top of him, ready to punch his face again.
“Oh. Oh, you’re in love with her-”
“THAT IS ENOUGH!”
Mikey’s hand froze mid punch as Kisaki Tetta - the ever cunning advisor- stepped into the room. Hanma is not too far behind, glancing at the now destroyed room with a low whistle, mumbling about how the wreckage will take a lot of money to fix.
Kisaki looked at the two of them, nose turned up in disgust as he folded his arms around his chest. His glass encased eyes scanned around the room, tsking at the destruction. “Kokonoi’s going to fucking kill me.” He murmured before looking at the two males, a frown on his lips. “All this over one bitch?” he asked, a brow raised in disappointment and shock. “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t pissed.”
Izana was the first to react, scoffing at the younger male’s unwanted interruption. “What are you even doing here? This isn’t your problem-”
“It’s mine now.” Kisaki shot back hotly, irritated by everything that was going on. “Since Mikey’s dearest friend thinks I’m responsible for whatever happened to Emma’s stupid dog, I have to make it my problem. The both of you, get up. Now.”
The two of them begrudgingly untangled themselves from each other and got up, dusting their clothes. Kisaki eyed both of them, moving from Mikey to Izana and then Mikey again.
“Which one of you is responsible for putting her in the hospital?”
“I didn’t even hit her that hard-”
“Are you still arguing about how hard you hit her?”
“Sorry. I’ll take it easy on your ‘girlfriend’ next ti-”
“ENOUGH!” Kisaki interjected once again, extremely frustrated by their constant squabbles. “You both realize that I’m- WE’RE literally under police scrutiny right now because of this entire issue right? I- I mean we need to get Emma back on our side since that is what the both of you are obsessed with.”
It was Mikey’s turn to roll his good eye, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I highly doubt that’ll ever happen, seeing as someone fucked it up for all of us-”
“Manjiro Sano, you are twenty-four for god’s sake. Stop being so childish and think with your brain for once.” Izana spat back, getting fed up with Mikey being on his case about it. “Do you really think (name) would actually admit I did anything? She’s too busy kissing our little sister’s ass to even defend herself.”
Kisaki nodded, agreeing with Izana. “Izana has a point. (Name) wouldn’t want to drag anyone into this, seeing how non-confrontational she is from my observation”
He paused for a bit before continuing. “But we can’t bank on that. You know how women are -they can snap any minute and change their mind.  We need to pressure her into keeping quiet.”
Mikey took a long and deep breath, trying to make headway and listen to what Kisaki was saying, despite the whole ordeal sounding so wrong. His good dark eye flickered to Kisaki’s face as he asked. “Like how? Do we give her a large amount of money to shut up?”
“Don’t think that far Mikey. It’s just a mild assault, not something serious.” Kisaki shrugged his shoulders. “All you have to do is apologize-”
“Apologize?” They yelled in unison.
“Shut up and let me finish.” Kisaki barked, silencing any protest from them. When he was sure they weren’t going to interrupt him, he continued. “You don’t have to mean it. Just tell Emma how sorry you were for the party incident and how bad you feel that she got hurt. Pay the hospital bills or threaten (name). I don’t care what you do. Just make sure she stays quiet.”
As much as Izana and Mikey wanted to pass off Kisaki’s idea as a stupid plan, it actually sounded like a good idea. Pretending to care for you would touch Emma’s heart and give her the impression that they bore no ill feelings towards you.
They had to admit, as much as Kisaki was a bastard who was only doing this for his drug business, they couldn’t deny he was more insightful than anyone when it came to interpersonal relationships.
Too bad he couldn’t use that skill to get the woman he loved.
Now that they had an idea on what to do, one question still remained at the tip of Mikey’s tongue. “What about the police? If they ask who is responsible and she just dropped the case, they’re going to get suspicious.” he looked at his feet. “Plus my elder brother cannot find out that this happened. He’ll personally make sure we rot in jail for hitting a woman.”
“Yeah, he’s so adamant about protecting women.” Izana said dryly. Why does he need to care about other women who were probably asking for it? It wasn’t his business. “It annoys the hell out of me. I can understand protecting my sister but what does other women have to do with me?”
“They probably need protection from you. Freak.” Kisaki muttered underneath his breath before returning to his normal voice. “The both of you don’t have to worry about that. I already have a fall guy. Fucker can’t pay his debt in cash, so he’ll pay with his body”
Izana raised brow, impressed by Kisaki’s speed in doing damage control. No matter how much he made fun of Kisaki not being able to fight when push came to shove, he admired how quick he was with his thinking. At least he had that going for him. “You’re sure you weren’t some criminal mastermind in your former life?”
“I ask the same question everyday.” Hanma, who had been standing at the doorway completely silent this entire time, finally spoke. “Almost scares me sometimes.”
Kisaki only rolled his eyes in response, training his pointed gaze at Izana, issuing a final warning. The hoops he had to jump just to even evade being a suspect in the case, having to talk to police and deny knowing you so that they don’t crack down further on whatever shady business he partook in, was already stressful enough.
 “This is the first and last time I’ll do this for any of you. I won’t tolerate any slip ups again. Don’t make me regret it.”
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EMMA was careful in switching out the old flowers with the new ones in your hospital room.
It had been four days since she had rushed here, bare faced and teary eyed and met you in a sorry state. Back then your face was barely unrecognizable; your two eyes were swollen shut, handprints on the two sides of your cheeks, bruises littered everywhere. Your body was so cold- medium hypothermia the doctor had diagnosed, since you were left outside as the temperature dropped. You were in so much pain and you could barely react, that they had to knock you out to treat you properly.
Ken had left in a fury the moment he was sure you were going to be okay, and returned with busted knuckles, along with Mitsuya and Baji at his side. Emma couldn’t remember exactly what they were telling her as they sat besides her in your hospital room, much more preoccupied by keeping her eye on you.
It was all the same. “Sorry. We’re so sorry Emma.”
She was sorry too. But sorry could not change what had happened to you.
They would switch hours with her. In the morning, Mitsuya would arrive, food, new clothes and a sketchbook in hand and watch you while she goes to the hospital to shower and change. She’d come back to see him gently holding your hand and talking about his new ideas to you, only letting go when she made her presence known. He’d stay until twelve o’ clock, silently sketching for his portfolio before leaving for his next class and in came Keisuke.
Sometimes Baji would come with Chifuyu or Kazutora. Not the both of them, because he said one of them has to cover up for the others missing in class. They would arrive with takeout and Baji would talk about the latest gossip in school- how two professors were caught with each other. Both were married, to other people of course but it never stopped them. Sometimes he’d turn his attention to you as the nurse changed your IV and make corny jokes. He took your fingers moving a bit as a sign you liked them.
Draken came in the late afternoon. Always with flowers and Emma’s school work. Hina was usually with him, silently looking at her feet before taking a seat beside the blonde girl. “How are you?” “Have you had anything to eat?” and then the orange haired girl would go into what happened in class that day.
“We had a test today.” Hinata whispered, watching Emma put the dead flowers in the dustbin. “I wrote your part for you.”
“Did you write for (name) too?” She doesn’t even look at Hinata as she caressed the flowers. “Or did you forget about her like you claim that you always do?”
“I-” Hinata froze at how hostile Emma’s tone was. Before you came, Hinata was her closest friend. They spent so much time together in middle school and high school that people called them sisters. So when you suddenly appeared in the picture, Hinata felt side lined with how you and Emma, despite being different, clicked so fast.
That feeling bloomed into a tiny jealousy but Hina was too kind to wish evil upon you.
“Don’t be hard on Hina.” Draken jumped in her defense. “She tried writing for (name) but the time of the test ran out. (Name) can always retake the test since she’s ill.”
“She should have written for (name) first. One call from my brother would have taken care of my grades. (Name) doesn’t have that privilege.”
“Emma-”
“No Draken, don’t Emma me!” She snapped, all the anger bubbling inside her finally spilling out. “Since this whole ordeal it has always been ‘oh Emma we’re so sorry’ ‘Emma have you eaten?’ ‘Emma, have a change of clothes.’ ‘Emma Emma Emma’ as if I’m the one who is lying in the hospital bed, unconscious! Not one of you has apologized to her!”
“We-”
“Shut up Ken” she screamed in frustration, tears spilling from her eyes. “All of you sat and watched my brothers practically ruin her chance at having anyone care for her, that isn’t me! You watched her get humiliated at that fucking party and sided with THEM! None of you would have given a shit about her being here if I wasn’t looking after her!”
“Emma-”
“I’m not done yet!” she yelled, silencing Hinata. “Her family is useless! None of them cared enough to even come when I told them what happened to her! And now even the people that come everyday only dote on me while she’s just an afterthought! Hell only Mitsuya had the decency to ask me if she had made any progress or woken up. What is wrong with all of you!”
The two of them remained quiet, looking directly at the floor as Emma breathed heavily, clearly exhausted from all the screaming she had done. Awkwardness settled in the air, the two ashamed of themselves. In the end, the bitter truth was what Emma had said and they felt terrible for it. Although it wasn’t intentional, they had ostracized you for the sake of pleasing Mikey and Izana. Even the attack was because of how badly the two brother’s had demonized you in front of other people.
Draken inhaled before stepping forward and placing his large arms around Emma’s smaller frame. She doesn’t struggle, instead collapsing in his arms, loud sobs escaping her lips. He doesn’t say anything, only rubbing circles on her back to ease her. “Easy. It’s alright.” He whispered, gently comforting her.
Before she could say anything, the door of the hospital opened up, revealing Ran with a huge bouquet of flowers, Rindou not following too behind with ridiculously large balloons all spelling get well soon and Kakucho holding a bunch of bags containing chocolates.
The respective trio all glanced at each other, blinking back and forth, increasing the odd tension in the air. After another thirty seconds of silence, Ran was the first to break the ice.
“Uh… did we arrive at the wrong time?”
Emma quickly pushed herself away from Ken, wiping her tears off quickly with the back of her hand and returning to her regular self. There was no way she’d let anyone else see her cry. “No-” she started shaking her head. “No, no, no, this is the right time. Come in.”
The three of them stepped in and Kakucho shut the door to the ward behind him. “Sorry, we didn’t come earlier.” Kakucho began, walking straight to where you laid peacefully, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. “How is she um… doing?”
“She’s getting better.” Emma replied, her voice a tad bit shaky from crying. “The doctors said the moment she wakes up, she’ll be able to leave.”
Draken watched as the three men rallied around her bed after dropping the gifts off in a proper place. Another moment of silence befalls the room, everyone watching you sleep peacefully - trying to bury their individual guilt of being complicit in what brought you here. Emma’s stubbornness, Draken and Hinata’s consistent silence and Ran, Rindou and especially Kakucho’s unwavering loyalty that have forced them to lie to Emma.
And you, in the center of it all. Face almost back to normal now, the swelling nearly gone, but still littered with bruising that surrounded your neck.
All they could do was stare powerlessly and feel sorry for you.
Eventually, Hinata and Draken had to leave as night time emerged. “I’ve got to meet up with Takemichi.” Hinata said as she packed her things away, her voice soft. “He’s not been feeling so good for the past few days now. He sends his regards though.”
“I hope he gets well soon.” Emma replied quietly, before giving Hina one last hug. “And I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”
“It’s okay.” She patted Emma’s back, before pulling away. “I’ll try and talk to the professor about her test in class.”
Ran and Rindou were the next to leave after another hour. “Should we get bigger balloons next time for the sleeping beauty, Emma?” Ran asked, a bit too flirtatious for her liking.
“That’s the last thing anyone would want” Rindou snapped, grabbing Ran by his arm and dragging him away. “Sorry about him.” He shouted as they walked away through the door, Ran muttering about how the pretty girls in there were already stuck dating losers. “I hope (name) wakes up soon.”
Kakucho stayed until it grew dark before leaving Emma. “I’ve tried talking to Izana to at least come.” He said, slipping on his jacket and tucking his bike keys in his pockets. “He hasn’t really said anything about what happened, he just stays cooped up in his room.”
Emma exhaled for the upteenth time today, resting her back on the chair. “I never expected any more from him.” She mumbled. “Thanks anyways.”
Kakucho nodded, patting the girl on the back. “I’ll come see you tomorrow. Make sure you don’t fall asleep on the seat.”
“I’ll try.”
The room fell silent again the second Kakucho shut the door. Now left all alone, Emma gently held your hand, watching over you until her eyes grew heavy. Even with the fading bruises littered all over your face and the disappearing eye bags, you looked so beautiful, at peace with the world. You were like those beautiful statues of mother Mary she saw when she went to church with you one time. A timeless beauty, marred by scars and failed by the very God that sought to protect her.
She longed for you to have the light in your eyes again like the first day she met you in class. You were so happy - naïve but happy back then. You would always light up when you experienced something for the first time. There was a brightness associated with you - far brighter than her and like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to you.
God, she missed your hugs. Whenever Emma had an awful day you would just hug her and stay like that until she felt better. She missed your voice, hearing you speak demurely or shyly. She missed you so much it nearly drove her crazy.
If only she could have been there to protect you. In a heartbeat she would change her mind to be with you or take your place.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please wake up.”
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  MIKEY gently opened the door to your hospital room, careful not to startle or wake anyone up.
A voice nagged him in his head, that he was a coward to come so late in the night but at this point, Mikey could care less of what he thinks of himself. The only important thing right now was to get on Emma’s good side and completely get rid of the notion that he was the bad guy.
Even though he had called in favors from the chief of hospital staff to let him do this.
Izana had insisted on following him behind, but got held back because he was shit at parallel parking. Mikey wondered how his brother even got his license in the first place, considering that Izana intentionally broke nearly all the traffic rules to get here.
His footsteps were soft, creeping towards your bed until he stopped beside Emma’s chair. She slept in an awkward position, neck hanging off the head of the chair, mouth wide open with drool to the side and her hand tightly clutching yours. He could see how worn out she looked, dried tears staining her face, heavy rings of dark circles, coupled with tangled blonde hair.
Wordlessly, Mikey pried her hand from your own and picked her up from the chair to the more comfortable sofa seat, putting her in a better sleeping position before covering his younger sister with a blanket.
He felt bad. She spent lonely nights by the looks of it, wishing you would wake up. He had never seen her look so tired or worn out before and he hated seeing her so stressed over something so … irrelevant.
He gradually walked back to her former seat, man spreading wide enough as he sat down. It was so weird to see you sleep like you were a human being, your chest rising and falling ever so softly. The moon casted its gentle glow on your face, gracefully tracing the column of your neck to the rest of your body. His mind went back to a fairytale his mother used to tell him, about a beautiful princess, pricking her finger on a needle and falling into a death like sleep.
The similarities were there. Tragedy befell you both. You were asleep with no indication of waking up and as much as he hated to admit it to himself- he knows you’re beautiful.
It was the first thing he noted when he set his eyes on you for the first time ever. There was just this brightness and gentility that came with your beauty that nauseated him. You were sweet. Far too sweet when he spoke to you for the first time and too kind to be true. He hated it. Why were you so kind when nobody really deserved it?
Even when he was painstakingly mean to you, you tried so hard to apologize. It made it harder for him, being jealous of your ability to warm hearts faster than him. He wanted nothing more but to make you cry and hurt like him until you’re no longer kind anymore. Anything that would block out that brightness from you.
His mom was nice and sweet like you. And dead. Very much dead. Going by your track record, you’ll marry the first man to bat an eye at you and live a miserable life getting cheated on until you die of a broken heart. You were just that naïve.
You were just that weak.
He watched you for some more minutes, the only noise being the ticking clock above your head. It was so easy to harm you right now. A pillow to your head and it would be the end for you. Maybe Emma would cry a little bit but then she’ll move on and run back to her beloved brothers, then everything would be back to normal.
Or, he could slide his hand underneath the flimsy blanket and just finger you again. Or force his cock into you and cover your mouth with his hand if you wake up. It wasn’t like you would be able to fight him off. As long as he cleaned you up and left no noticeable mark, no one would know what happened.
He put his hand underneath your blanket and rested on your thigh, thumb circling on the bare skin. His mind whispered to just “do it” and “take you”.
‘It’s so easy. So eas-’
“Manjiro?”
It was so faint and yet he heard your groggy voice call out to him, stopping him in his tracks and he pulled away from your thigh. Your eyes cracked open, darting around as you sat up disoriented. “Where am I?”
It was obvious you had just woken up from the induced coma or whatever they had put you on. His mind suddenly blanched, now confused on what to do or tell you. What now? Was he supposed to comfort you and tell you you’re in a hospital? Or get you to lie down? ‘I hadn’t anticipated she'd wake up? What should I tell her?’
And as if the universe cursed Mikey, the door creaked open, revealing Izana mumbling about he hated driving a car.
The reaction was immediate. Your once confused visage morphed into a terrified expression the moment you locked eyes with Izana in the dimly lit room. You must have remembered what had happened before you passed out, every single detail rushing back to you in full force.
‘Shit, this wasn’t part of the plan.’
“You! You tried to kill me! Get away from me-mmhmmphmm-”
A hand slapped on top of your mouth, keeping you from speaking. You looked back up to Mikey with fearful eyes, who placed a finger to his lips, shushing you. “Shut up.” He hissed. “Or do you want us to finish the job?”
Your eyes grew wide with fear at his murderous gaze, the pit in your stomach only growing deeper as Izana made his way to your bedside, now standing in front of you. Your body trembled rigorously when the tan skinned man suddenly pulled out a gun, brandishing it in your face.
“Now listen to me.” Izana threatened, pressing the gun to your temple to buttress his point. “Not a word about anything from that night. Understood?” You nodded, scared out your mind. “You’re gonna act like we’re cool with each other. I don’t want any form of frowning or fear or anything that’ll raise suspicion. I don’t care how bad you are at acting, you’re gonna put on an oscar-worthy performance pretending we apologized to you and you’re okay. You don’t want to find out what happens when you cross me.”
You nodded your head as tears rolled down your cheeks, your fingers gripping the sheets below you tight to anchor yourself, praying he doesn’t change his mind and blow your brains out. Satisfied, Izana tucked in the gun underneath his holster and patted the top of your head patronizingly. “That’s a good, good girl.” He cooed, “you’re a good girl aren’t you? You’ll stay quiet, hm?”
You shivered as his warm hand caressed your face, his touch being so gentle for you as opposed to his violent nature. Mikey released your mouth, his dark eyes flicking from your face to your lips. “Use your words.” The blond snarled.
“Y-yes. N-no one will know.”
It was almost cute the way you stuttered. They should be feeling some sort of remorse for making you cry just as you woke up from a minor coma, possibly ruining a happy moment for you, but you looked so pretty whimpering and shaking for them.
“Good, good girl.” Your stomach churned at Izana’s satisfied smirk. “You’re smarter than I thought.”
You watched as the two of them stood upright and headed for the door, their mission accomplished. Tears gathered in your eyes once again, a loud snivel escaping your lips, slapping a hand to your mouth when it caught their attention.
Izana, already fed up with you, walked back to your bedside, teeth gritted in irritation as he lowered his lips to your ear. “I’ll give you something to cry about if you don’t shut up.” he growled. “Wipe your tears NOW.”
You complied quickly, cleaning your face repeatedly until your face was raw. “Now lie back down.” He demanded and you compiled, pushing your body back until you laid on the bed, facing the wall. You only heard footsteps as they walked away and you don’t dare shed any tears until you hear the door slam shut.
‘Oh God.’
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  YOU knew better than to disobey Izana and Mikey.
Your smiles were as bright as the sun, eyes shining with the radiance that could only be compared to a bright light. There was a pep in your step anytime you walked, pushing forth all the positive energy you could give to the world. Everyone complimented how well you took the incident that befell you and how fast you healed, commending you on not letting the past define you.
It’s toxic. People saying just how strong you are for smiling and existing rots your brain and fills your throat with bile. They can’t see the hurt underneath the layers of clothes you wear or the blinding smile and wave you give everyone.
You want someone to notice you’re in pain and hug you, swear they will protect you and keep you safe. But as long as Mikey and Izana live, nobody will ever risk their life for you.
They got what they wanted. Emma was talking to them again after you lied to her face that they had apologized to you in the middle of the night. Someone else was in jail, awaiting trial for assaulting you, while Izana roamed free, clinging onto Emma to make up for lost time. Mikey would occasionally glance at you from time to time as you watched them from afar, waiting for Emma to be done so that you could go back to your dorms.
She had refused you going anywhere alone since that incident, citing that someone might still attack you. “I just want you to be safe, '' she had said once, trying to explain herself to you.
You didn’t have the heart to tell her what really made you feel unsafe.
“(Name), what’s the subject of the sentence?”
“Huh?”
You’re brought back to earth when Hina snapped her fingers in your face. She had decided to join Emma in helping you study for your makeup tests due in a week, but you don’t seem to be focusing on anything at all. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Izana and Manjiro, plagued by their constant playing god in your life.
Pushing those thoughts aside, you decided to pay more attention to the test you were studying for. Eventually, they’ll give up on harassing you and everything will go back to normal, being the joint kings of the school until they graduate. You’ll be a tiny blot in their memories as they find partners, get married and have kids, all the while running Japan’s crime scene.
There was no need to keep thinking about them. You were insignificant in the scheme of things.
Just keep your head down and study. Be a coward and tuck your tail between your legs.
“Sorry Hinata. The last sentence went over my head.” you said, pushing your book forward. You felt bad for wasting Hina’s time- even though she’s the best in your class, you were sure she would rather be doing something else than having to sit all night studying with you. “Subject verb agreement in a compound sentence isn’t my strong suit.”
The orange haired girl merely shrugged her shoulders in response. “Eh. It’s cool. Professor Hanabi was terrible at teaching it anyways and I didn’t understand what he was saying in class.”
“But you got a perfect score.” You interjected, if Hinata didn’t understand the topic what are the chances of you getting it either? “Only you and Emma don’t have to retake this test again.”
“Because we went on youtube immediately after class. Duh!” Emma clapped back. “Unlike some of us who think facebook is still a valid form of social media.”
“Hey!” You screamed back, embarrassed at Emma making fun of you. Why she loved bringing up the fact that facebook was the only social media you were allowed to use at home still remained a mystery. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again!”
“That’s one promise I’ll never keep.” She teased, sticking out her tongue. You opened your mouth to retort when Hinata snapped back at the both of you. “Alright, that’s enough. Focus on the lesson, I only have an hour left until I meet up with Takemitchi.”
“Fine.” you and Emma groaned in unison. You would get her another time.
You decided to spend the rest of the hour listening to Hinata talk about compound sentences and occasionally, Emma chiming in with short quizzes. It was slow, but you were making some form of progress with their help until you were sure you got the hang of it. You moved on to other topics in the course, asking questions whenever you were confused.
By the time you had reached the quota of your studying, it was about ten pm. The two girls had to pack up and go their separate ways, leaving you to do your revision for the rest of the night, alone.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Emma asked you as she stood outside your room door. “Your roommate hasn’t returned back to the room since you came back from the hospital.”
Shaking your head, you put a hand on Emma’s shoulder, reassuring her that you were going to be fine with staying all alone. “Em, it’s fine. I’m already in my room so no one will harm me.”
“You sure?”
The worry in her yellow eyes made your heart hurt. You hated seeing your friend who had spent the most part of last week watching over you while you were knocked out in the hospital look so troubled. It wasn’t her fault that her brothers were like that and you didn’t want her to punish herself for it.
“Sure, Em.” You smiled, before pulling her in for a tight hug, inhaling her flowery scent. “I’ll even lock the doors tight. Nothing will happen to me in my room.” You mumbled into her shoulder, lingering in her arms before pulling away and forcefully dragging herself until she disappeared into the hallways.
Now left to your own devices, you ensured the door was locked, before going ahead to shower. You let the cold water wash away the sweat and grime off your body, making you relax your tense muscles for the first time today. The stress of having to pretend you were okay was weighing down on you - a heavy burden that felt far too big and far too much for you to carry. You’ve been assaulted twice and the perpetrators still waltzed around like they’ve done nothing wrong to you. You saw them with prettier girls hanging off their arms, all smiles and laughter. Hell, they treat them far better than you, buying them gifts and taking them out.
You only asked for an apology from them, but they couldn’t even give you that.
The sound of your room door unlocking broke you out of your trance. ‘Wow, she decided to come home, finally.’ Your roommate, Kehlani hadn’t bothered to even check up on you in the hospital from what you heard, despite her being aware -and admitting to Emma that she knew. She even confused you further when she gave you a dirty look the day you returned and then disappeared the next without any trace.
It didn’t matter anyways. You and her were never on good terms in the first place so you didn’t bother with her behavior. Perhaps she would one day warm up to you if you kept being kind to her.
Thankful that you took your nightwear with you, you shrugged on your blue tank top and your tiny white shorts decorated with flowers, hung your towel on the rack and brushed your teeth clean, ready for the night. A yawn escaped your lips as you reached for the door, deciding to retire early tonight.
“I have nothing else to do anyways” you hummed, walking out of the bathroom. “I need to rest too…”
The words died on your lips the moment you locked eyes with Mikey’s.
He was just sitting on your bed calmly, looking straight at you with a blank expression on his face, still clothed in his usual baggy carton coloured trousers and button up shirt twice his size. Your heart leaped into your throat at how unbothered he was being caught in your room, his hands resting on his knees. You could feel his gaze, dark, empty -at first, drinking up the sight of you in such little clothes until a smile makes its way to his lips.
“Manjiro.” Your voice started shaking as multiple questions rang through your head. What was he doing in here? How did he get in here? Why did he come here? What was he going to do to you? "Manjiro please-”
“(Name), come here.”
You hate how collected his voice sounds, how he’s not freaking out, like it was his room that you broke into and not the other way around. You stay rooted in place, not wanting to obey him or anything he has to say. “Please…” was all you could manage to get out of your lips, your back pressed to the door as he stared you down. “Please don’t do this.”
“Unless you want me to rape you, then come here. I don’t have that time to play games with you.”
The bluntness of his words sent chills all over your body. Something told you it was better to go along with whatever he said, hopefully he wouldn’t want anything too much from you.
You would rather not want to find out if he would truly hurt you.
Your body pushed off the wall and made its way to him until you were standing in front of him. You swallowed down your fear as his hands reached up to the sides of your clothed ass, kneading them in his palms. “How soft.” He murmured, before pressing his nose to your crotch, sniffing you down until his head was between your legs. Your body grew hot with embarrassment as he smelt you like he was a fucking dog, humming in approval at your scent.
“Manjiro-”
“Shh.” He silenced you, pulling his head from between your thighs. His palms that once kneaded your plump ass suddenly grabbed them and pushed you onto his lap. A tiny gasp emanated from your lips as you felt something very hard poke you through his layers of clothes, your face just inches from his until your noses touched.
You don’t smell alcohol or anything strange in his breath. He was doing this sober.
‘No, no, no-’ you panicked at the feeling of his hard on in his pants. You can’t let him touch you like this, the first time was already a mistake. You can’t make the same mistake again. You’ve spent so much time praying and doing penance, you can’t let it go to waste now.
“Manjiro please. This is wrong-” you started pleading with him, pressing your hand on his chest, putting some distance between the two of you. “I can’t do this. It’s wrong- ah”
His lips find purchase on your neck, before dragging it across your neckline to your jaw. His hands push you until you’re pressed into his chest, immobilizing you from trying to run away from him. You shivered with each wet kiss Mikey littered around your neck, his lips so gentle in kissing you up and down. His hands start to slowly rock your hips, grinding down on his hard on with a low groan as he moves to your mouth, lips pressing gently at the corners.
“Open your mouth.”
You gave in, slightly parting your lips for him to kiss you fully. The way he slotted his lips against yours felt so wrong, so sinful as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth to intertwine with your own wet muscle and yet, your body couldn’t help but react to it, wetness slowly seeping from your womanhood to your panties.
Each kiss was more sensual than the last, a hand moving from your hips to the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he made out with you, his hot muscle gliding over yours.
Was this how he made girls feel? As much as you hated what was happening, your body grew hot with each grind and kiss, his clothed cock teasing your soaked clit. You felt so airy and lightheaded, like nothing else was going on in the world but him. It wasn’t like the first time in his car, where everything was rushed and it hurt; this time he was gentle, methodological which was unexpected from the careless and cruel Manjiro Sano you were forced to deal with everyday.
He pulled away from you, a long string of spit connecting both your lips. The grinding stopped, and you nearly let out a whine because it was beginning to feel good.
The realization made you snap back to reality. What the hell were you thinking? This was disgusting.
“Manjiro, I can’t do this.” You started pleading with him. You don’t know what could have gotten into the blonde haired male, but you needed him to stop this and leave, before it escalated into something else. “Please, we have to sto- oof.”
Mikey was quick to shove you on the bed completely face up, before climbing on top of you, crushing you with his weight by lying down on you. You opened your mouth to protest only to be silenced by a kiss again, this time far rougher than the last one, both your teeth clanging on each other. Your head spun as his hands began to travel underneath your tank top, pushing the flimsy material up until your breast sprang free.
With his body pressed on yours, you felt his dick twitch at the same time.
He pulled away from your lips, his hair forming a curtain around both your faces and focused on your breasts. Your body grew hot as he groped the two mounds at the same time, his breathing heavy as he played with them. Your head falls to the side with him squeezing your tits before massaging it again, eliciting moans from you.
“You have such nice tits.” He murmured between breaths, groping and teasing you with each compliment. You’ve never been complimented by Mikey before, all you knew was how caustic he could be to you. “Nice tits. Nice ass. Nice pussy.” He groaned, pinching your nipple hard and making you whine loudly. “Even your moaning is so cute.”
You don’t know how to react. His behavior is so unlike him. So strange that you don't even understand why he was acting this way. You briefly looked up at him, noticing how hooded his gaze was. His face was red, the blush extending to his neck and hell, even his hands were red.
It made you feel shy. You turned your head and looked away from him, not wanting to be under his scrutinizing gaze. Everything felt so wrong, but you couldn’t deny that his gentle touches made your heart race fast and the pulse between your legs grow wet.
He finally lets go of your breast and kisses your neck again, earning soft moans from your lips. He trailed butterfly kisses down your neck, to your sternum, down to your stomach. A soft “Manjiro” escaped your lips as he kissed your pelvic line simultaneously, hooking his fingers on your shorts and panties to pull them down.
It was as if that snapped you out of your lustful haze. Nobody had ever seen you down there before, it was wrong to let a man that isn’t your husband see such intimate parts of you. You sat up and put your hand on his wrists, stopping him from moving further. “Manjiro wait- we can’t…” you protested. “... it’s against what I -”
“Interrupt me again. I dare you.”
You froze at how dark his voice sounded. It was as if another man had taken his place, with how he was so quick to change his mood. “Lie on your back or I’ll rip these to shreds.”
You obeyed, not wanting to incur his wrath, closing your eyes as he dragged your shorts and panties down to your ankles, leaving it there. Your let out shaky breaths as he spreads your thighs wide, showing your glistening wet pussy in all its glory. He adjusted himself until he was kneeling on your bed and yanked you forwards, earning a yelp from you until your legs were on each of his shoulders, shorts and panties hanging off from one leg.
The position felt so exposing, but any shame you felt disappeared when he began kissing your inner thighs. You breathed through your nose in an attempt to steady yourself. You’re not familiar with this sort of position - not even the romance books you snuck into your room from the library talked about what Mikey was about to do.
‘Just breathe.’ You whispered to yourself. ‘It will all be over so-’
Your eyes flew open as his tongue licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, your whine high enough for the entire dorm to hear. His fingernails pressed crescents into your thighs as he started to glide his tongue around your clit, circling around it in lazy, slow eights. Your body seized up, the bundle of nerves firing signals that even you couldn’t understand.
‘W-what- OH MY GOD-’
“MANJIRO-”
He didn’t let up, maintaining his pace as you trembled underneath his tongue, rolling around your clit before moving down, flattening his tongue until he stopped at your entrance, before moving up again. Your head fell back onto the bed as he opened his mouth even wider, his tongue slurping your juices emanating from your pussy, moving up and down.
His lips latched onto your clit, sucking deeply, his tongue running through the middle letting go with a loud pop before grinding his face on your cunt, his tongue slurping and sucking, sending vibrations from your clit, straight to your brain. Each stroke had your fingernails digging deep into your sheets hard, until you were sure you had torn holes in them. Your body shook and trembled with how fast he bobbed his head up and down, tongue brushing your sensitive nub with each stroke until your head swarmed with pleasure. His grip on your thigh was hard, forcing you to stay put instead of closing your legs around his head or running away.
Your head was foggy as a familiar build up started forming in your belly. At this point, you’re sure the entire dorm building knows who exactly was in your room with how loud you were moaning. Your body writhed in his grip as he increased the speed of his tongue fucking against your sensitive bud, focusing on that particular place with a circular motion and sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your back arched as you pushed your hips further into his face, trying to hump his face to match the pace he set.
“Manjiro-  please I can’t- Ah!”
You let out an ear piercing scream as he flickered his tongue on your nub, dragging you closer to ecstasy. Your hand flew to his hair, forcing his face further into your cunny and hips automatically and clumsily grinding against his lips and tongue- unknowing suffocating him. All you cared for at this point was to get to the edge and just let go, bucking your hips even faster.
“Manjiro, oh God! Ahh unh…”
The noises you let out were nearly unintelligent, just your mind repeating the urge for you to cum on his tongue. Mikey dug his fingers into your thighs, his moans vibrating around your nub, clearly enjoying eating you out as well- increased the sensation, pushing you closer and closer. He indulged you, moving his head sideways to increase the sensation until your vision starts to blanch out, toes curling on his shoulders.
“MANJIRO OH, OH IT’S CLOSE OH OH-”
Your hips stuttered as your orgasm washed over your entire body, grinding your clit on his tongue to ride it out. He’s lapping up your juices as they gush out, groaning at how you’re twitching and cumming on his tongue, crying out his name with every thrust until you’re sure you can’t cum anymore.
 You collapse on the bed hard, your body quivering with the aftershock of the intense pleasure you just experienced. You watch through tired eyes as Mikey discarded your limp legs to either sides of his waist, raising his head up to reveal his cum stained face, a lustful grin gracing his lips.
He reached up to you again and grabbed your chin, kissing you to taste your release, letting the tangy flavor invade your tongue. He pulled away, his hand still on your chin. “You taste good.” He hummed, making you feel so warm and fuzzy before kissing your face again. “You know what a pussy job is?” when you shook your head no, he groaned. “Alright, I can work with this.” He murmured before demanding that you, “pull your panties up.”
You knew better than to disobey or ask questions when he gives you that look, scooping up your panties until you covered your sensitive pussy. He started to unbuckle his belt, zipping his baggy trousers and shimming down his boxers, letting his cock spring free. You averted your eyes from staring at the slightly darkened appendage leaking with precum not wanting to sin any further than you already have.
He’s too preoccupied to care, dragging his hand around his member to spread the pre, lubricating his cock until it was slick. Mikey slipped your panties aside and uses his fingers to spread your still sensitive folds, sliding his cock with one hand into your panties until it’s well balanced between your folds, making you jolt in response.
“Fuck” he hissed, his hips bucking between your legs, slightly stimulating your already sensitive clit. “You’re so fucking wet, shit.” he groaned into your ear, dragging his cock back and forth.
Your poor swollen nub brushed against his cock as he jerked against you, earning loud whimpers from you. Each thrust is accompanied with Mikey’s soft moans, pleasure blooming in his body as your wet juices leaked on to his erect cock, making him press himself further into your folds to feel more and more of you.
His hands grab at your hips again, this time moving them as he rolled his, creating a steady rhythm for each other. Both your moans mixed with the squelching noise of his dick rubbing against your wet pussy echoed throughout the room. The scene was erotic, the two of you pressed against each other, Mikey’s flushed face glistening with sweat and his mouth wide open, heavily breathing above you, your eyes closed and mouth parted open, broken pleas falling from your lips as he stimulated your clit again.
“Uh- fuck-” the blond groaned, rocking his hips faster with each thrust, relishing in the feeling of just being able to play with your folds like this. “Ugnh (name), shit- I’m the only one allowed near your pretty folds, understood?” 
“Huh-”
“No one. No other man.” He rasped out, trying to keep himself grounded as he commanded you, jerking his cock faster and faster, his hips stuttering. “Is allowed near this pussy. It’s mine and mine only-” You nodded mindlessly, not even understanding why he brought that up. “Say it. Say your pussy is mine”
“It’s yours” you breathed. “My pussy is all yours.”
“Yeah. That’s right. All mine.”
Your body shuddered the second he gave his final thrusts, rubbing his cock against your folds until he came with a low ‘fuck’, loads of cum staining your panties completely, the rest dripping on the bed in a final pump. He briefly collapsed on top of you, catching his breath until his heart returned to its normal rate.
The lustful fog had eventually cleared from your eyes and the sting of guilt and humiliation ate you alive. Here you were, lying down half-naked and face up, underneath Manjiro Sano, already breaking your promise to never return back to your sin. You felt so dirty, your body marked and swollen from the littered hickeys and bruises he left in his wake.
You’re not shocked when he pulled out from your soiled panties and tucked his dick back in. The best he does is go to his bathroom to wash his hands, before coming out with a wet towel and a panty change. He sat beside you, taking off your filthy panties and wiping you down before giving you the new ones, helping you to put them on, adjusting your clothes and finally, covering the blanket over you. You’re too ashamed to tell him to help you change your sheet or check if he put your soiled underwear in the right place. You don’t even ask him how he got in your room.
All you do is wallow in your own guilt, unaware that he left the room with your filthy panties in his pockets.
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Bonus scene:
 “SINCE when does Mikey get pissed when we make a joke?”
Takashi tried to drown out Nahoya’s irritating voice as he worked on his new clothing article for an assignment. His fingers worked in tandem with the sewing machine, hoping the noise would drown out the stupid agrument going on right now.
Tonight was supposed to turn out differently. They were all having fun and playing video ganes or asking each other to do stupid dares. This was supposed to be a chance to relax without having the whole school crammed in their frat house. Eventually it came to talking about girls they had slept with or would like to sleep with, and while he didn’t contribute, it was meant to be just something they wouldn’t take seriously.
That was until Hanma opened his fucking mouth and brought you up.
“You guys kept bringing up (name), how was that funny dude.” Keisuke snapped back at Nahoya. “Did you even hear the way you were talking about her?”
“It’s not like we were talking about his sister, Baji.” Pah tried to defend them. “He said any girl that wasn’t a member’s sister or Hina. How would we know he didn’t want to hear about her?”
“Maybe because he hates her?” Kazutora added amongst the ruckus. “Sure, her name is no longer banned from the house but you know he’s salty whenever she’s brought up. Or maybe he doesn’t like to hear people talk about how they want to hunt his sister’s friend down and fuck her like a whore?”
“He’s called her worse.” Hanma, the cause of the entire problem, shrugged, clearly unbothered by the situation. “I’m sure he’s only mad because he’s not the only one that wants to sleep with her. Is it our fault she’s always looks like she’s asking for dick with those eyes of hers?”
That was the final straw for Mitsuya. He slammed the breaks on the machine and quickly got up, now facing Hanma and the rest of them. “(Name) isn’t asking for anything, you’re just a pervert.” He hissed.
“Aww, the gentle man finally speaks.” Hanma teased. “You know she wouldn’t fuck you right? She’s a sucker for Mikey after all.”
Ignoring Hanma’s statement, Mitsuya decided to address the rest of toman’s executives. “Don’t you all have sisters or mothers?” Mitsuya started lecturing them. “How would you feel if someone started talking about them, the way you talk about (name)? She just went through a traumatic event, can’t you have some sympathy for her a litt-”
The room fell quiet the moment Mikey walked in, slamming the door shut. The atmosphere grew tense as their leader made his way to the center of the room, a neutral expression written on his face. They watched him slowly pull out something from his pocket and throw it on the table.
‘What the-’
It was clear what the piece of article was and who owned it.
Everyone in the room stared in shock, looking at the panties and the back to Mikey, who turned around to return to his room. Like he didn’t just do something so vile and disgusting.
He was sending a message, claiming you like you were a territory that he owned. “You can talk about her all you want.” His tone was dismissive, but the lingering threat remained evident. “But have it at the back of your mind she’s my bitch and I hate sharing.”
He disappeared into the room, leaving his friends completely speechless. No one said anything, trying processed what just happened until Hanma broke the ice.
“Mitsuya, you gonna tell him off?”
Takashi felt sick to his stomach.
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special thanks to: @honeybleed @manjibunny @reiners-milkbiddies @izanaki707 @rukiaslvr @ilovetwodmen @bbykoo-7 @tenjikusstuff4 @cockonoi @koffeenoe2 @kodzukein @lostsomewhereinthegarden @cashout-princess @aliyxh-o @kay-bear200 @iluv-ace @vixensbrainrotts @missgab @urmomsksk @sweeytheart @charcoal-xl @uradveragewhore @wcayaw @blueberry3muffin @haikyuusboringassmanager
monica's notes: thank you guys for reading this chapter! i hope you enjoy it and show your continual support by reblogging and commenting! it means a lot to me and motivates me to write faster. i'll be taking any questions you have and if you want to know what parts didn't make it into the final cut you can send me an ask.
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scoobysnakz · 2 months
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loser miguel who can’t get the image of you on your knees with his cock shoved down your throat out of his mind. he’s almost alway hard now, constantly finding excuses to run off and pleasure himself in the nearest bathroom. except nothings enough.
he’s bitten off more than he can chew and his body is punishing him for it.
he’s felt you, had you in his grasp and now you’ve ruined any other form of pleasure for him.
loser miguel who starts off his day horribly. he’s gotten so used to getting his hugs from you that when you walk right past him with your head craned down his stomach drops, leaving him with this icky hollow feeling.
he knew it would be awkward but this… hurts. he hadn’t handled the situation properly and look where it’s landed him.
he had wiped the remnants of his release from your lips before pulling his pants up and walking off. not even glancing in your direction, just leaving you on your knees. if he had, though, he would have seen the desire in your eyes, the desperation for him to stay and explain what had happened- why it happened.
loser miguel who watches from the vending machine as you make your coffee, something he’s used to doing for you. you’re oblivious to him, humming softly to yourself as your pour the boiling water into your mini mouse mug.
he’s lost as to why you’re avoiding him. even when things have been unbearably tense you’ve always been kind enough as to look at him or offer a shy smile but now you won’t even hold doors open for him, just scurrying off before he can catch up to you.
loser miguel who decides that he’s has to talk to you, now.
loser miguel who slowly walks over to you, long legs carrying him faster than you would have been able to run. he stand there for a moment, just looking over you as you add the excessive amount of milk to your coffee that he’s always found unnecessary but never felt the need to ridicule.
it’s not until you turn around that you realise he’s stood there. your crash into his sturdy chest, umber droplets spilling from your mug and splattering on his shirt.
“oh, fuck, i’m so sorry,” you blabber apologetically, placing your mug down on the counter, before you realise who it is.
instantly, you pale. your eyes widen and you swallow hard, unsure of what to do. he’s got you pressed against the countertop, trapped there as he stares down at you, hardened eyes boring holes into you.
“i should go, the lab… paperwork and stuff, y’know how it is,” you mutter while trying to push past him.
“so now you talk to me?” he scoffs.
your gaze falls to the floor as guilt starts to prickle at the back of your neck. “didn’t think you wanted me to.”
loser miguel who can’t believe what he’s hearing. why wouldn’t he want to talk to you ? you’ve driven him insane since the moment he first laid eyes on you, and that was before you sucked his cock for all that it was worth.
“‘course i wanted to,” his tone softer now, the upset and disappointment melting away from his voice.
your hands find their way to their pockets, your fingers finding refuge in the rough denim. “you just walked off.”
miguel’s brow furrows at your words, what else was he meant to do ? he can hear the irritation in your words, see the hurt in your eyes but he’s done nothing wrong.
loser miguel who can’t understand what he’s done, and normally he wouldn’t try to, but the way your bottom lip quivers and fingers curl and uncurl into feebly furious fists has his heart aching.
“i’m sorry.”
you suck in a breath through clenched teeth. “are you?”
you want him to mean it, you don’t want some flimsy apology that’s going to be crumpled and thrown away in a matter of seconds.
he’s been such a good friend to you, always had your back no matter what, but he really hurt you. he didn’t know about the emotions brewing in your heart the whole time you’ve known him, didn’t know how long you’ve been craving him the same way he’s been craving you. but the disappearing act really fucking hurt.
“por favor, believe me, mami,” he croons, “i’d never purposely hurt you.”
loser miguel who pours out countless apologetic promises to do better with his head buried in the crook of your neck as he pulls you close.
his breath is hot on your neck and his arms feel stronger than they usually do, but you try to ignore it, focus on safety of the hug, now how amazing it feels to have a man of his stature begging for your forgiveness.
“i’ll do better, perdóname. eres demasiado preciosa para estar molesta, i messed up, chica, i’m so sorry,” he rambles, thick fingers curling into the curve of your waist.
“migs, it’s fine, you’ve said sorry god knows how many times, please don’t worry.”
“let me make it up to you, please.”
the slight waver in his voice combined with something digging into your thigh tells you he has a few ideas on how to.
a/n so most of my work has been getting sent to schedule for like several weeks instead of a few hours and i only just clicked it before when i was abt to sort out my masterlist 😭 i’m so sorry this has taken gonna update everything later !!
tag list: @lacedinweb22 @xxyaoi-nationxx @farrowroyale @mynamesstevenwithav @m4dyy @pinkismylife @kenz-ee @queerponcho @mcmiracles @nic-stars @ella-unenchanted04 @basedpear @rhythmloid @safixiovi @braverthanthenewworld @sad-author-san @envyjmoney @poeticmoonspirit @avatar-lover @stopxplease @lauraolar14 @straw-berry-ghoul @babygirl7777 @iluvoaldmen @stressed-cherry
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yuyusboyfriend · 8 months
Text
Good Boy ✧.
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roommate!yunho drives me crazy bro...
pairing: roommate!yunho x gn!reader
wordcount: 1,7k
content: helping your roommate with a hard problem...
warnings: nsfw, pet names (tiny, baby, good boy), handjob, cum eating, dirty talk (?), lots of praise, sub!yunho dom!reader (lmk if I missed anything)
comments and reblogs appreciated <3
masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
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When you usually walk through the door after a long day of classes, you'd hear your roommate, yunho, crashing around in the kitchen cooking up something for you both to eat once you got home. Sometimes he would be in his room playing valorant, shouting down the mic to his friend group telling mingi to step up his game -
Tonight? There's no noise. Atleast that's what it seemed like, until you hear a sniffle coming from the corridor as you place your shoes by the door. "is....is he crying?" you whisper to yourself as if the house was going to answer back. As you drop your bag on the counter and take small steps towards your roommates room, all you hear is shuffling, followed by the squeaks of a bedframe.
"No....is someone here with him?", your heart sank at the thought. Not that you had shared this with anyone but your close friend, woo, but some time after yunho moved in, you started having....dreams... about him. At first they were innocent, like playing games and having movie nights, but after the first few you noticed they became more...sexual. The first night you jumped in horror, filled head to toe with guilt and a hotter feeling you couldn't put into words, but grateful that your yelp didn't wake up the boy on the other side of the wall. When he stroked your arm that morning, a normal gesture between the two of you (at least usually), you jumped out of your skin and flinched away from him.
"You okay, tiny?" concern in his voice hitting your ears mixing with the guilt in your head.
"Sorry, yeah im good, just no sleep", you pulled your best fake smile despite all the questions running through your head; why the skin on your arm where yunhos hand formerly was feel like it was burning up? Why was your heart racing so fast? Why did the droplets on yunho's face and neck from the reminence of his shower make your throat feel like the Sahara desert?
"Were you up playing ac with seonghwa again? I told him to not keep you up late anymore, I'm gonna message him aga-"
"It's okay, yunho, seonghwa was probably fast asleep, it was just too....cold", You cut his worrying off with the lamest excuse you could think of. After that encounter, every touch yunho initiated, every time he jumped into your bed when he was bored, or wrapped his arms around you when he put his hoodie on you, made your whole body heat like you had swallowed the sun. You wondered if he did it on purpose, if he knew the control he had over your heart rate....
..."I guess not." You held back an aching tear at the prospect of yunho having someone on his bed that wasn't you. You silently begged the stars that it wasn't the case as you creeped closer to his room. one step. Two steps. You noticed the door was cracked open. three steps.
"y/n please.."
What? did he just say y/n? you stop just short of his door to process what you just heard. Were you hallucinating? was the stress of school and your crush finally getting to your head to the point you think you heard yunho say-
"fuck, y/n please." he says again, this time a litre of desperation in his gravelly voice apparent. He was practically panting out your name in what sounded like frustration, his breaths shaky and uneven.
You took another step forward, finally standing in his doorframe to add a visual to what you've been hearing. Holy fuck.
Yunho splayed out on his bed gripping the sheets with one hand and furiously rocking his hips into the other. His hoodie, once held between his teeth, now pathetically shifting over his sensitive skin making him harder, if it was even possible.
His tip looked red and angry to say the least, his skin was glistening from sweat and he could barely keep his eyes open. How long had he been at this for?
You realise you've been standing here, perving over your unknowing roommate, but as you attempt to step away from the scene of the crime to try and forget what you've witnessed (even though you know this will fuel your dreams for the next month) you felt your keys slip out of your previously suffocating grip.
With a loud clash, no thanks to your 80 keychains, you let out a panicked squeak and yunho jumped to cover himself on the bed at the noise, till he realises what just happened.
"Y/n it's not- I'm-" he tries to get the words out but after his body had been working in overdrive, nothing made sense.
"Sorry yunho, I didn't see anything!" you yelped out as you tried to turn around and run to your own room, but a firm grip on your arm turns you back to yunho.
He was disheveled and had barely managed to put himself back into his sweatpants, the friction excruciating on his aching tip. God, he looked angelic, his hood still over his head covering his sweat drenched hair, and overshadowing the deep red on his cheeks and ears. His eyes darting to look everywhere but yours, eventually settling on your lips.
"y/n...I need... please help me." he whispered while rubbing circles into your arm, scared for your answer.
"sit." Your shaky voice betraying your attempt at being assertive. Nonetheless, yunho walks backward till he falls back, you following in tow.
He's already whimpering at you sitting down and straddling one of his legs as you start to pull his grey sweats down just enough once again.
"god.." You think. He looked big before when he was stroking himself, and you always suspected he was packing by the indent in his towel after showers, but seeing it up close was a game changer.
"think about my size later y/n, please it hurts.." He whimpers out, making you realise you had said it out loud. Putting your embarrasment aside, you brush your thumb down the underside of his dick till you reach the base, where you wrap your whole hand (barely, his girth was just as impressive) and squeeze a little, testing the waters. He cried out in pleasure from your touch, begging for more, and rutting his hips up best he can - in the process giving you some friction making your mind a little fuzzy.
You worked your hand up and down his angry cock turning him into a blubbering mess. Yunho was so overwhelmed by the sensations his brain had short-circuited and all he could blubber out between was "baby please", "y/n fuck, ah", "tiny nnghh".
"am I making you feel good, yuyu?" you asked with a sultry voice and hooded eyes. You could die a happy person right now if this is the last thing you see. God, yunho was in such state, sticky glistening skin looking edible.
"Yuyu. Answer me baby, or I'll stop." You teased, not even sure you'd be able to stop if you tried.
"baby yes yes please god fuck tiny im so close." He huffed out while vigorously nodding his head. What a sweet boy - too bad you couldn't help teasing him a little more. You slowed down the pace making him whine and cry out a symphony of pleads. Music to your ears, you don't know how you lived your whole life without this.
"please tiny, I'll be good please, let me cum" he cried, his voice breaking.
"you sound so pretty like this yuyu... you're such a good boy." His dick leaked precum and twitched in your palm at the pet names, something you'd keep in mind for a later date. You sped your pace back up again and started nibbling on his burning earlobe, making him cry out whatever was coming to his fucked out brain.
"I'm your good boy ah, tiny, please-" and another string of curses and whimpers. You could tell by his tightening grip on you that he was close. He could feel the knot in his stomach getting tighter, ready to snap.
"be a good boy and cum for me, yuyu."
Thats all it took for his whole body to tense up, cum spurting out of his cock in ropes, reaching your face and soaking your hand. He slumped against your shoulder from exhaustion and euphoria as you pumped your hand around him once more, letting him ride out his high.
"y/n," Yunho shot his head up with a sorry expression now that the brain fog had cleared. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to drag you into thi-" before he could finish, you distracted his train of thought by wiping the cum off of your cheek, and experimentally licking the tip of your finger. A little salty but surprisingly sweet? Before giving him a peck on the cheek to see where his head was at.
He watched in awe as you put his cum on the tip of your tongue, nearly eliciting a second orgasm from him just at the sight. When you pulled away from his cheek a dark blush covered his ears and face, and his round eyes filled with shock that you didn't hate him after that, guilt fading with every millisecond.
His eyes locked with your plump lips before pulling you in to join his. Your mouths molded together as though they were made for eachother, and you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip asking for access. Of course he slipped his tongue into your mouth and kissed you like a starved man, biting your lip and caressing your jaw. After minutes of claiming his mouth you finally broke away for air.
with a glint in your eye looking into his, "So, how you going to repay me yuyu?"
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my first fic 😭😭😭 this was suppose to just be drabble but man ....... I love yunho
this isn't proofread or anything so sorry for any mistakes❤️‍🩹
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seresinhangmanjake · 1 month
Text
Super Soft!Simon Riley x reader - You're terrified that Simon's not making safe choices when he's on deployment, so he comforts you. (fluff, allusion to future smut (barely), drunk johnny, cod inaccuracies)
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Johnny recounts the tale of their hard-earned achievement—a victory, as they have deemed it—with a number of beers in his system that you’ve long stopped counting. As he sits at your kitchen table, he is looser, giddier, freer with his words, and spares no detail of your boyfriend’s selfless acts of bravery during their last deployment. Acts that got him shot at; one of those bullets finding their home.
You’d be proud of him, if not for the fear that built up over months from recurring nightmares and an overactive imagination—all of which had you losing the love of your life. But that’s not out of character. You think about yourself, you think about your boyfriend, before you think about the lives he saves when he’s away from you. Maybe it’s wrong, or unfair, but you can’t help it.
While Simon’s work is not something he ever kept secret, you don’t need the reminder that the preservation of his life is not always his priority. It can't be. There are other factors that dictate his future. He has a team, people who depend on him. He has responsibilities and orders to follow. Control is often snatched from his fingertips. And so, what does that mean for the two of you? 
You don’t care to think about it. Not tonight. Not at midnight from a friend who should have passed out on your couch hours ago. So you stretch, yawn, and excuse yourself for bed before your brain implodes from any more of Johnny’s ramblings.
Simon knows. He spent the night squeezing your hip each time you tensed in his lap at Johnny’s words, and now, as you stand to head to the bedroom, he holds onto your hand until your fingers slip from his. Deep brown eyes are filled with guilt and apology and all you can offer in return is a slight upturn of the lips that barely qualifies as a smile.
Away from the men, you cry in your and Simon’s shared bed, waiting for him to encourage Johnny to the couch. There's a few more loud laughs, a whine when Simon cuts off his friend's alcohol supply, and then a final groan of acceptance as you hear the springs of your couch squeak under the weight of a muscled body. It’s only when the animated snores of your drunk friend reach your ears that the door to your room creaks on its hinges.
Simon’s footsteps are thumps muffled by carpeting. From your peripherals you see him shed his clothes as he moves to you. Shoes, then t-shirt, then jeans, until he's in his underwear and settling onto the mattress behind you. 
His arm slips under yours around your waist and he tugs your back to his chest, into the cocoon of warmth. 
“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks, gruff and thick. His voice rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your spine as his breath brushes your ear. “That my life is over.
“Everything I want, everything I need—none of it matters anymore. All because of one look at a woman who was too busy with her friends to notice me,” he says. “I thought, I'm ruined now. If you leave this bar right this second, I won't be able to forget you. And if you don't leave, I can't ever let you go. I didn't know your name and you had me ready to change my whole world for you.”
You sniffle but don't bother to wipe away the tear that escapes. “That's insane, Si,” you whisper.
“It is,” he agrees, pressing a kiss just under your ear. “But it happened. I let you in and you latched on to my entire existence like this beautiful, little parasite. Just like I wanted you to. My life ended and it became our life. 
“I don't take a single step without considering you. Not here and not there. So if you think I don't try to be careful when I'm gone, you're wrong,” he tells you. “I try for you. I try for us.”
Yet, ‘trying’ means he still gets injured; he gets another circular scar to add to the healed knife slashes and the burned patch on his upper arm. ‘Trying’ is not always about picking the safer of two options, but about optimizing luck, which is rare enough as it is. And that terrifies you.
“What if you step wrong not knowing that it's wrong?” you ask. “What if you think it's right and then you're gone? You can't tell me that will never happen.”
Simon sighs. “No, I can't. But you trust me, don't you?”
Turning in his arms—your nose nearly nudging his—you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb along his cheekbone. “Of course I do.”
“Then don't mourn me while I'm still here, love,” he breathes against your lips. “Can you do that for me?”
You nod, because you’d do anything for him. 
“Good girl.” Simon smiles lightly and slides his palm from your back down the length of your arm. He squeezes your fingers, then moves further, tucking his hand into the front of your underwear. “My girl,” he whispers and presses his lips to yours.
A/N: i dont usually write different stuff but i felt like it so i did
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moonstruckme · 1 month
Note
hey if you don’t mind, I’ve been struggling with a lot of anxiety and it makes my chest hurt a bunch so maybe you could rwrite something like that with anyone you’d like, ofc if you’d rather not that’s totally.
have a wonderful day dearie
Thanks for requesting baby, I'm really sorry you're dealing with that! I hope maybe you're feeling a bit better by now.
cw: anxiety, chest pain
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Remus knows you mainly watch this show because he likes it, and yet he’s dozing off. After a long shift at the hospital, the clashing of swords sounds about as lulling as a thunderstorm outside the bedroom window to his tired ears, and his head slowly slumps backwards against the couch cushion. When snuggle closer to his side, head needling its way almost into his armpit, he thinks you’re trying to get him to wake up. 
“Sorry.” His voice comes out raspy, drowsiness clinging to his vocal chords like a paste. 
You pull away, looking up at him. “Oh no,” you murmur, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 
The guilt in your voice has him responding instinctively, “It’s okay.” Remus drapes an arm across your shoulders, encouraging you back to where you were. “I was only resting my eyes.” It’s a flimsy excuse and you both know it, so he moves on quickly. “What’s up, hm?” 
“I was wondering if I could have a hug,” you say quietly, tentatively, your eyes not quite on his, “if that’s okay.” 
Remus checks himself before he can look too surprised. “Of course it’s okay,” he says, tightening his grip on you. 
Granted permission, you go all out. You turn your body into his, both arms wrapping tight around his midsection and face burrowing in the soft material of his sweater. Remus adjusts his hold to get a better grip on you. He brings his other hand to your head, cupping the back firmly. 
Asking for affection like this, so explicitly, is unexpected from you. It makes Remus feel like he’s just had a cup of tea, spreading warmth through his insides and leaving a pleasant aftertaste on his tongue. You hate to need him, but he loves to let you. He’ll take any chance to take care of you. He likes to think a secretive little part of you likes to be cared for, too. 
The exhaustion in his bones melts into something heavy and fond as he pets the back of your head. “Everything alright, sweetheart?” 
You hum into his armpit. “Just felt like I needed this, for some reason.” 
“Any reason’s good enough for me,” Remus half-jokes, dropping a kiss onto the crown of your head. “Did you have a long day, too?” 
“Not really.” Your voice dips into a lower register, disgruntled and bemused. You turn your face up so you can see him but don’t pull away, scooting closer to tighten your hold. “Nothing’s happened, I just feel a bit off, I guess. My chest hasn’t stopped hurting all afternoon.” 
He can see the regret in your expression when his eyebrows go up, and Remus laughs. 
“Oi, what’s that look about?” 
“I’m not trying to put you on the clock.” 
“No,” he says, smiling as he kisses your hairline, “You’re not, honey.” But he does reach for the remote, pausing the TV and silencing your background noise. 
Your eyes narrow. “You’ve got that serious look, though.” 
“That’s just my face, I can’t really help it.” Admittedly, chest pain worries him. Remus is prone to worrying about anything that ails you; it's where his job and his boyfriend duties collide. Still, he doubts you’ve been having a heart attack for the entire afternoon, so he’s not going to frighten you by telling you about the vast number of things chest pain can point to. “Where does it hurt? Can you show me?” 
You sigh and lean back, putting space between your chest and Remus’ side. “Sort of here,” you say, flattening your palm over your sternum. 
“Is it a concentrated pain,” he asks, “or more of an ache?” 
“More like an ache,” you admit. “It’s sort of, like, burning? But that sounds more dramatic than it really is.” 
He ignores the last part of your statement, setting his hand on your chest and pushing down gently. “Does that make it worse?” 
You shake your head, and Remus hums. You haven’t been coughing; he would have noticed. He works two fingers under your jaw. 
“What else feels weird, sweetheart?” 
“I’m not sure,” you tell him, starting to sound a bit raw. “I just feel…not right, you know? Is that bad?” 
“No, I don’t think so,” he says, letting his fingers drop from your pulse point. ”I think you’re mostly okay.” He uses both hands to pull you into his lap. “C’mere, baby dove.” 
You seem far from unhappy at being moved, pushing your face into Remus’ neck and letting him rest his chin atop your head. “What?” you ask. 
“Did you have coffee this afternoon?” 
“Yeah.” You sound cautious. “Why?” 
“And did you eat before?” 
“Remus.” Your warning tone is undercut by unease. 
He kisses your head in apology. “I think your chest hurts because you’re anxious, honey,” he says. “The caffeine probably made it worse.” 
You go quiet for a minute. Remus rubs your back, sorry for the invisibility of your hurt but relieved that its cause isn’t something more sinister. When you pull away, you’re frowning. 
“I don’t think it’s that,” you say. “It’s never felt like this before.” 
Remus feels his mouth slant in sympathy. “I think coffee without eating is already a bad idea, but then if you got anxious and we started watching a stressful show,” he tries to convey some apology in his expression, “it might have made your nerves feel worse than you’re used to.” 
“I think I’m only nervous because my chest hurts.” You blow out a breath. “It’s kind of a chicken and egg thing, yeah?” 
Remus hums, running his hand up the length of your spine. He can feel your heart beating beneath his palm. “Humor me for a minute?” 
You sigh again. It looks strenuous. “Sure.” 
“Breathe with me,” he instructs, folding you back towards his front. You go willingly, though you seem tenser now than before, your hands nearly rigid on his back. “In for eight.” 
He listens to be sure you’re doing it with him, feeling your chest expand against his own. He lets his palm lie still beneath your shoulder blades, sneaking a gauge of your heart rate. 
“Hold for eight.” 
Remus feels your nose press into his collar. He turns his lips into your forehead, holding his lungs at their full capacity and knowing that if it’s difficult for him, it has to be considerably worse for you. 
By the time you’re finished breathing out it's a relief for you both, and you turn your face up to his with a bit less skepticism. 
“That was hard,” you admit. 
Remus bites back an I-told-you-so, but he knows his smile must say enough of it when you roll your eyes good-naturedly. 
“Why don’t I change it to something a bit lighter,” he says, nodding towards the TV. “We can do more breathing during the commercial breaks, yeah?” 
You appear to consider this. “And we can keep cuddling?” 
Remus’ chuckle lures a smile out of you. He’s exceedingly gratified to see it. “That was never up for debate.” 
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feistyfreaks · 5 months
Note
that recent miguel fic was so hot omg now I want to request one 😳. Imagine dbf!miguel sexting us while away at a business trip or while reader is out with friends or something (..or even over the dinner table while out with our dad.. maybe..) he’d definitely be writing the most poetic, romantic yet filthy and disgusting texts ever, like ones you’d have to take breaks after each sentence because oh my god..
& with his ancient ass hed most likely send nudes via email as well 😔 but we’ll eat it up every time!
HIDDEN CONNECTIONS ┈ ! ✶
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₊❏❜ content⋮ dbf!miguel x f!reader. huge age gap. readers aged up (18+). dirty talk. sexting. porn w not much of a plot.
note⋮ i love reading through these requests, i love y’all so much 😭!! yet again, sorry for the wait, procrastination has been eating me alive lol. but without further a do, i hope you enjoy 🙈.
dividers by @cafekitsune.
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you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear as you browsed through the websites catalog, eyeing all sorts of styles. you wanted to up your relationship with miguel and try something new, so you decided to go lingerie shopping.
you scrolled through the petite section, bored out of your mind as you tried to look for something interesting and more erotical. you took a glimpse at the time, noticing that it was past midnight.
you raised a brow, "already? could've sworn it was eight a few minutes ago." you murmured to yourself as you glanced back at your screen, a baby pink set stood out to you and your eyes lit up, clicking on the link without hesitation.
the price was pretty expensive, but you marked it into your cart - just then a notification from gmail appeared at the bottom right of your screen.
it was from miguel.
miguel was your dads best friend, and you grew smitten by his charm growing up. at first you believed that it was a silly little crush that you’ll eventually get over, but that never happened.. instead your relationship with him began developing throughout your young adult years.
you sensed the irresistible tension and you started to question what the two of you were, and your question was answered when one thing led to another, both your clothes being discarded as things became heated in such a short amount of time.
but you struggled with your feelings, torn between your blossoming desires for miguel and the guilt associated with betraying your father's trust; but the age difference between the two of you only added a sense of excitement to your relationship, and both of you fell into the temptation of your desires, initiating an intimate connection, and that’s how you two got yourselves into a secret affair.
as you opened the email, the subject line immediately caught your eye. 'mi luz,' it read. miguel was about twice your age, and for some reason he always stuck to emailing no matter how many times you taught him how to regularly text — he believed emailing was better because they were more formal and easier to navigate.
you quickly opened the email and giggled, “esa linda sonrisa tuya ilumina mi día, y esos ojos tuyos iluminan mis noches."
a small grin curved upwards onto your glossed lips, it sounded kind of corny but you strove to decipher the meaning and intent behind each word. your hands flew across the keyboard as you quickly replied. “pfftt, you’re flattering me miguel. what’re you even doing up so late?” you pressed on send, and not long after you received a new notification.
“i’ve been thinking about you, i miss you. n' what's your excuse for being up so late hm? it's past your bed time nena.”
you could sense his teasing tone over the damn screen, and you couldn’t wipe off that cheeky grin of your face. your fingers hovered over the keyboard, you wanted to keep it a surprise, but the excitement got a hold of you first.
"well.. i was online shopping.. and came across this, what do you think of it?" you messaged along with the picture of the lingerie attached.
you waited eagerly for his response, like a puppy wanting to receive validation from its owner. maybe you should've waited, but you couldn't keep surprises a secret.
"why? are you planning on seducing me with that little outfit, chiquitita?”
a mischievous grin plastered onto your face reading his reply.
“maybe, maybe not, but you didn’t answer my question. do you like it? y'know, easy access.”
“the lace is pretty. yea i like it, and you're right. it does have such easy access. i’d love to see you in that.”
you chuckled, switched tabs and clicked on the checkout option. you filed in the credit card information along with the address, admitting the final 'confirm payment’ button.
“well you’re in for a surprise when you get back from your trip mister." you typed, "how much longer do i have to wait until i get to see you, you know i don't like waiting, i really miss you.”
“aww, getting needy aren’t we? i’ll be back home around this week darling. can’t wait to see you all dressed up for me. i’m looking forward to splitting those pretty legs of yours open and play with that pretty pussy until your soaking wet on my fingers.” he wrote back as you overlapped your legs to feel your clit pulse in your panties.
“i really miss you mig. just want you to sink your fingers into my hole and tell me how much of a good girl i am. i need you to come home n’ fill me up, fuck me into this damn mattress.”
“i want to come home just as badly as you want me to, but we both know that this business trip is important. but i promise you that i’ll bully my cock into your weeping pussy and fuck my cum into your tummy.”
your heart raced and you squeezed your legs tighter as you read email, as you and miguel continue your fiery exchanges, the emails become more explicit.
his filthy words made you palpitate, and he never failed to noticeably make an impact on you, you always found yourself drenching your undies. “fuck yes. use me, want you to pound your cock into me, m so wet at the thought.”
“yea? que putita eres mi amor, show me how much of a slut you are, show me how wet you get from telling you how good i’ll fuck you chiquitita.”
you sat up eagerly, slipping your sleeping shorts down to your thighs as you clicked on the small camera icon. slowly but lewdly you spread your legs, your hand came down to rub at the wet patch on your panties. your cursor hovered over the white button as it snapped the photo, and with another click you hit send.
your grew hot and impatient as you began pressing on the sticky nub over the drenched fabric. it was ridiculous how you were sexting using via email, but it only served to make you beyond hornier with the new adjustment.
“shit baby, look at how you’re fucking dripping. why don’t you go and hump your pillow, yea? tease your little cunnie for me, wanna see your cute pussy wetting the bed. i just know you’ll be letting out the most cutest noises while thinking of how i’ll fucking ruin you when i get back.”
heat raced through you and towards your core, you had to pause to take a deep breath.
holy shit.
you felt your cheeks go hot, and you reached for the pillow as you happily obliged, eagerly kicking off your panties and thighs cradling the soft silk as you settled your warmth into the pillows edge.
you let a soft moan feeling your clit pulse again. you bunched up your blanket and placed it underneath your abdomen as you leaned forward, stomach pressed up onto the bed sheets and the comfort of your blanket.
your page refreshes and your met with another email from miguel, this time there was a few images attached to his message.
you opened it and you feel your cunt clench around nothing. his belt was undone and you could visibly see the pink leaky tip sticking out of the confinements of his boxers, the second image displayed the underside of his fat girth and you felt yourself beginning to drool, the third photo portrayed his thumb rubbing on his slit as a string of his arousal stuck onto on his thumb, showing you just how sticky he was and the caption overall made you bite your lip.
“gonna put you on all fours, y te voy a poner al reves, te veras tan rica mientras te lo hago por detrás.”
you slowly roll your hips, your slick dampening the fabric and you effortlessly slide against the cushion. you moaned, tilting your head to the side and drifting deeper in thought. you start to think of him atop of you, his body fervid against yours, his heated lips attached to yours, his pelvis snug into yours as his cock splits you open — your hips hump the pillow faster and you whine out in euphoria.
your thighs tensed around the soft pillow and you feel your pussy practically flutter. with another rough roll of your hips you stutter, clit pulsing as you gush onto the bed sheets.
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perlelune · 3 months
Text
no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | x.
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Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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Disbelief shimmers in William’s green gaze.
“You’re joking…” He cradles your face, searching your eyes. They are steadily filling with tears. He releases you, retreating as his face distorts with shock. “You’re…not?” He runs his fingers through his brown locks. “God, I’m such an idiot.” He unleashes a humorless laugh. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
Your stomach sinks. 
“This entire time. I waited for you. I trusted you. And you just…What? A-Are you with him now?” The betrayal quivering in his tone shatters your heart to pieces. 
You lower your head and mumble, “It’s complicated…”
“No it’s not. It’s actually quite simple. Do you love him or do you love me? Do you want to marry me or do you want to marry him?”
William’s anger and frustration coat the air, his voice growing louder with every word. You tremble. Your fiancé’s never yelled at you like this before. You’ve argued, of course, like every couple does. But never like this. And never has he looked at you like that. Like you’re a stranger. You wish the earth would open up and swallow you. 
“I…”
“Answer me!”
You jolt and step back, the heel of your shoe hitting the bottom of the stairs. 
Your father appears in the corner of your vision. An exhale of surprise leaves you. He wedges himself between you and William.
“Do not dare raise your voice at my daughter, young man,” Strabo thunders. You gape at his back. It’s the first time you’ve heard your dad use such a furious tone of voice. 
William lifts his hands defensively.
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand-”
“I think it’s best if you go. Now,” your father urges, pointing at the door. 
Your fiancé’s shoulders sag. He tosses you one last, heavy look, his jaw clenching.
“Yeah, maybe it’s for the best,” he belatedly grits out. 
The second William slams the door shut, you’re in your father’s arms. The fat tears rolling down your cheeks drench his shirt.
“Dad…”
“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.”
He rubs soothing circles on your back as you bury your head in his chest. You sniffle as a sob spills from your throat.
You doubt anything will ever be okay. 
The rest of the day is spent in your room weeping underneath your blankets. It’s a wonder there’s any water left in your body, the ceaseless flow of tears soaking your pillows and sheets. Ma and Dad keep visiting your room, bringing you food and trying their best to lighten your spirits.
But nothing can keep you from drowning in your sorrows. William was the best thing that ever happened to you. You remember when you first met him at the University. The two of you were paired for a project and ended up hitting it off while working together. You didn’t even expect him to ask you out. It was no secret half the girls in your cohort harbored a crush on him. And with his boyish charm and outgoing personality, a contrast to your more withdrawn, lonely nature, you never imagined he’d seek your company past the project. 
But he did, constantly finding lame excuses to talk to you like asking for your notes on a class or lying about needing a pen for a quizz. One thing led to another and, after a few months of courting, he got on one knee and asked for your hand. 
Then Janus died. Your world collapsed. Colors dimmed around you. Everything stopped making sense. Still…William did. Whenever you were around him, you could pretend away your grief, laugh away your pain. 
Your heart wasn’t so broken. 
And now…you don’t think it’ll ever be put back together. 
For days on end, you don’t leave your bed. The sun rises; it sets. Yet the same pains shackle you to your bedroom. Quicksands of guilt and sorrow suffocate you.
…Until you’re swept by a sickness one day. 
It happens a little under a week after your return. You rush to your bathroom and pitch forward, dry heaving the near vacant contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. You then huddle on the floor, hugging your stomach as pain pulses through your midriff. Your brows collide in confusion. Hardly a bite of anything has crossed past your lips these days, as you only chewed on a few glum bites of the meals Ma brought to your room. Yet you are nauseous, cramps twisting your insides.
You bolt upward, racing to the toilet bowl again as another surge of queasiness takes you. Following that, you crash into a heap on the floor. Shuddering, you wipe the back of your mouth.
You crawl onto the floor, all the way to your bed. 
Every day after this one, you awake sick and cranky, the same ache and nausea plaguing you. You also begin to experience faint headaches. It becomes dire enough for your parents to summon a doctor. However many times, he checks you out, he finds nothing amiss or wrong with you. Throughout the checkup, concern is etched on your parents’ faces. You’re forced to promise them that you’re alright and that, to prove it, you’ll show up for family dinner as you did before. Your father pats your cheek, visibly relieved, but the concern on your mother’s face doesn’t relent. She keeps scrutinizing you with a strange look on her face, one you’re not sure what to make of. 
Still, even as you hug Ma and Dad, dread creeps inside you. Something else could still be wrong with you. The kind of thing there isn’t a quick fix-it for. The kind of thing you’d have to deal with for the rest of your life. 
But you don’t let your mind wander there. Not yet. 
As you end the day with yet another bout of vomiting and stabbing cramps, your mother rushes upstairs. She sinks to her knees at your side and strokes your hair.
“Are you alright? I heard you.” She frowns as she takes in your shuddering frame. “Perhaps we should call the doctor again so he can do more tests…”
You bristle. More tests would mean exploring other possible causes for your affliction. You can’t risk that. Not with Ma and Dad involved.
“It’s nothing, Ma,” you dismiss with haste. You put a hand on her arm. “Could we go to the apothecary this evening?” Her puzzled look draws a nervous chuckle from you. Twisting your hands, you chime falsely, “I bet it’s just a nasty stomach bug.”
Her frown deepens. “A bug? But you haven’t eaten very much lately.”
You shrug.
“It can still happen.” You slip on a mask of cheerfulness. “I’m sure I’ll be right as rain again with some ginger and camomile, Ma.”
“If you say so,” she says, returning your smile.
You’re a bit unsettled as you find yourself outside. The brightness of the sun sears your eyelids. You squint at the blue sky. You wobble down the stairs as your mother holds your arm. You’ve grown so accustomed to keeping yourself cloistered inside, either by your own will or the will of…others. Strolling along the cobblestoned path while the winter breeze caresses your face has a strange tickle running through you. 
An awkward silence hangs between you and your mother once you’re in the back of a taxi.
Your fingers twiddle in your lap as you keep your eyes low. Who knows what Ma could discern in your gaze. You never managed to conceal much from her ever since you were a little girl. She was always freakishly aware of every blunder, bad grade and secret.
Her motherly instinct is infallible.
“Dad and I haven’t seen much of you these days,” she suddenly notes, causing your head to whip up. “I know you’re sad about William but…” She hesitates, gauging you before stating, “I think it’s a good thing.”
“Ma…”
“He was never right for you,” she insists, her inflection stern. “You’re a Plinth. You should aim higher.”
“Mother!” you hiss.
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but it needed to be said.” She reaches out to drape her hand over yours. “You’re hurting right now but it’ll all be for the best in the end. You have a bright future ahead of you. That young man, nice as he is, was just holding you back.”
Mouth agape, you stare at your mother. While you know that she and Dad have never cradled William near their heart and weren’t too  thrilled with your decision to marry him, you never expected her to be so callous about your engagement ending. In her mouth, it nearly sounds like a business deal gone wrong. But she knew William, talked to him many times, saw you with him. She has to understand how much losing him means to you. How can she be so cold and dismissive about it? You quell the budding sobs in your throat. 
The quickness of the drive to the shop is a small mercy you bask in. After your mother spoke, the air in the car grew heavier, every lungful becoming torturous. 
You hastily climb outside the car once it comes to a stop in front of the apothecary. 
Windchimes sing above the door as you enter, your mother at your heel. 
You linger by every shelf, pretending to be lost between all the labels. 
“We could call the clerk to help…”
“No, it’s okay,” you cut her off. You giggle and shrug. “I like taking my time. Actually, you know what?” You grab a vial and shake it, pretending to study the label. You wave your hand at your mother. “I’m gonna stay behind and gather some more herbs. You should go. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Befuddlement knits her brow. “I could stay…”
“I won’t be long,” you snap, your lips curving in a wide, painful grin. You squeeze her arm, your tone softening.  “I promise. Just wait for me in the car, Ma. Then we could stop by a café and have a bite. How does that sound?”
She yields with a nod. “That sounds lovely.”
Relief fills you when she walks away. 
The second she’s out the door, you’re racing to the front desk.
“I need a pregnancy test, please,” you blurt out, your voice barely above a breath as you keep stealing wary glances behind you.
The mere utterance of the request has your insides coiling in horror. For a while, you were in staunch denial of that being a possibility. But you mulled it over, long and hard. It made you realize that, besides the sickness you’ve experienced lately, you also can’t remember the last time you had your monthly bleeding. You’ve never been late before. Not even once. And while things are a little fuzzy in your head…you’re pretty sure over two months isn’t a good sign.
The clerk blinks at you, seemingly taken aback. Still, she silently moves her head in agreement and dives through a door leading to what you assume to be the back of the shop.
The wait is agony. You count every second, praying your mother won’t show up out of the blue and start questioning what you’re up to.
When the clerk returns, you free a deep breath. 
She places a small, clear vial inside your palm. You give her an inquiring look.
“You must…relieve yourself and transfer it in this vial,” she explains. “If it turns blue, well congratulations are in order.” Her smile dies as she notices your tight expression. “Or perhaps…not?”
“Thank you very much,” you say, carefully squeezing the vial and shoving it at the very bottom of your bag. 
For good form, you ask for some medicinal herbs, some for stomach pains and others for sleeplessness. Just in case your mother inquires about your purchases. One can never be too careful.
When you’re back inside the car, your mother beams at you. 
“Did you find what you were looking for, sweetie?”
“Y-Yes, I did, mother,” you stammer, clearing your throat and letting your gaze roam outside the window. 
You’re thankful she cannot hear the cacophony of your pounding heart. 
You spend the rest of the evening with your mother, drinking tea and eating cake while she babbles about trivial topics. You try your best to listen, giving vague, half-hearted replies.
But your mind is already far away, a million thoughts bumping inside your head.
The entire evening, you’re restless, eager to go home and get answers to your questions. 
It requires every morsel of self-control within you not to make a beeline upstairs once the two of you are back home. You give a swift apology and tell your mother the day’s exhausted you and you need a quick nap. She reminds you that dinner is in less than two hours and you need to dress up. You don’t argue, all too happy to finally be on your own.
Once the door to your bedroom is closed, you slump against it, all the tension in your body draining all at once. You take a minute to breathe, leaning your head against the wood.
You retrieve the vial inside your bag. Your hands quake. Your heart drums.
Hesitation slithers through you. What if you just tossed it out the window, forgot about all this?
No. This isn’t something you can cower or hide from. You have to face this.
Your entire life could change in an instant. And it might be about more than just your life.
Shaking from head to toe, you proceed inside the bathroom. You pee in a glass and pour a small amount in the vial.
Insides painfully tight, you chew on your lip as you wait.
Stay clear, stay clear, you pray in silence, as if the water could hear your plea and change the course of your fate by some fantastical twist.
After a few minutes, blue starts bleeding inside the water. It doesn’t stop until all of it has morphed into the horrifying color, bubbles rising to the surface.
The air in your lungs falters. The vial crashes to the floor, scattering into tiny shards as you collapse on the floor of your bathroom.
You gape at the blue puddle on the floor. Maybe it’s a mistake. Tests aren’t always foolproof. They’re wrong sometimes. Perhaps yours was defective.
For a while, you loiter in your denial, conjuring a plethora of reasons why this isn’t happening.
Then you slowly blink. You realize the puddle hasn’t moved. The shards are still on the floor. The blue isn’t gone.
An audible exhale bursts from your chest.
Despite your desire to pretend otherwise, you can’t escape the truth. The ghastly, awful truth. There are no more ifs and buts, no ‘perhaps’, no ‘maybe’…Just the reality that will make itself known to all much sooner than you’d like.
You’re going to be a mother. You’re carrying Coriolanus Snow’s child. The urge to puke, cry and scream all at once surges through you.
“Sweetie, dinner’s ready.”
Your mother’s abrupt call from downstairs has your heart miss a beat.
“I’m not hungry, mom,” you reply automatically, tamping down the quiver in your voice.
“You promised,” she yells.
Right. You did. Perhaps it was foolish of you. How can you carry on with dinner and smile at your parents as if everything’s normal? As if your whole life didn’t take a gigantic turn…the biggest one there could ever be.
You collect yourself. You rub your sweaty palms on your skirt and pick a random dress from your wardrobe. You’re a little shocked to find the closet half-empty, gut wrenching as you remember a good chunk of your clothes are still at the Snows’ apartment.
Emptying your thoughts, you get dressed, your fingers slipping as you fumble with the buttons of your dress.
Get it together.
You slap your cheeks and will yourself to act normal. You’ll figure out the next steps later. Right now, you need to make it through dinner.
The facsimile of a smile nudges your lips upward as you drag your feet downstairs.
However all shallow semblance of happiness evaporates from your face when you take in who’s standing at the bottom of the stairs by your parents.
His smooth lilt ripples through the room.
“Hey, princess.”
Your stomach drops to your feet. Victory sways in his cobalt orbs as he savors your reaction.
He looks the exact same as the last time you saw him, simply more put together in his crisp red suit and white shirt, his blonde locks slicked back from his face.
Every cell in your body is screeching at you to run from him. As far as you can. For as long as you can. And never look back. 
Your fingers clutch the stairs’ handrail.
Your appalled gaze turns to your parents. They are entirely too calm for your liking. In fact, they appear more wary of you than him.
“What’s going on? W-Why is he here?”
Your father takes careful steps towards you.
“Sweetheart, maybe we should sit, have a discussion as a family…”
You scoff, shying away from his outstretched hand.
“But he’s not…He’s not part of our family. Or did you forget, Dad?”
Your father’s shoulders fall, a great weariness settling upon his features. In that moment, he looks every bit of his years, all the built-up grief and exhaustion displayed on his face.
“Yes, but, in the current circumstances-”
“What circumstances?” you interrupt.
“Stop it,” Ma snaps. She sighs, approaching you. You stiffen. “We’re not stupid.” She lifts her hand to cup your cheek, her voice mellowing. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you, sweetie?”
Your eyes bulge, shock striking you mute.
Coriolanus uses that moment to join your mother’s side. He places a soothing hand on her shoulder.
Your heart threatens to leap outside your chest when his eyes lock with yours.
“Your father’s right, princess. How about you come down so we can talk about this…” He flashes you a wicked smile. “As a family.”
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unreliablesnake · 5 months
Text
Big reputation (Simon Riley x reader)
Summary: You got injured on the field and now Ghost feels bad. Well, maybe it's not just guilt...
Note: The people have spoken. Soft!Ghost. Fluff. Short story.
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In your previous team you managed to enrage a general that you shouldn’t have, and apparently kicking you out of your comfortable position was his way of punishing you. So now you came to meet your new team at the base, already having ideas of who’s who based on rumors circulating in the military. 
There was Price who was fair and relatively calm, Gaz who was loyal to the fault and was a surprisingly nice guy in general once he warmed up to you, and you couldn’t forget about Soap–whose call sign you found utterly ridiculous–who was a big mouthed but reportedly funny Scotsman. 
And then there was Ghost, the man who was a mystery to most. No one has seen his face from the people you talked to about the team, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t get to see it either. But that was okay. Him being a big and scary guy wearing a skull mask that every single person was terrified of was more than enough to make you cautious around him.
Fast forward to four months later, when Ghost became your shadow after a fucked up mission where you got hurt. It happened under his watch so he was probably blaming himself, but he never really gave you a reason why he was always near you. Soap was the one who mentioned him possibly feeling guilty, and since you had no better idea, you believed it to be true.
The big scary guy didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was more like a loyal guard dog that followed you everywhere and scared off people you didn't want to be around.
“You should go to bed, it’s late,” he said one evening after a briefing.
It was only the two of you in the room, everyone had left already, but he was going through some reports before taking them to Price. You let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you observed him. He had left the room before, but after it emptied and it was only you in there, he came back with the files. Out of nowhere. Without a warning. He mumbled something about needing a quiet place, but that was a terrible excuse considering he had his room to go to.
For some reason he glanced over at you every once in a while, watching you as if there was something he wanted to say to you. But every time your eyes met, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He didn’t speak up and you weren’t about to bother him with questions. Ghost was usually pissed if someone asked too many questions, this is how Soap got burned a few times in the past. 
Then something changed. He closed the folder and turned his attention to you again, this time not shying away from making it obvious he was staring. You raised an eyebrow in question, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent. With a groan you stood up and walked over to him, gently pushing the folder away so you could sit on the edge of the desk next to the lieutenant. 
His hand inched closer, just enough to let his little finger brush your thigh. “It’s late,” he repeated his previous statement. 
“I’m not sleepy,” you replied with a shrug. “Why have you been watching me like this? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Ghost sighed under the mask and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He was toying with it for a few moments, his eyes focused on the item instead of you. “You’re causing me quite a few sleepless nights, Rabid,” he muttered as he pulled out a cigarette from the box. He called you by the nickname that awful general had given you a few months back, and you knew he never did that without a good reason. 
What were you supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? No, that wouldn’t be right. So you chose to be careful with your next words. “You can’t sleep?” you asked him, genuinely interested. 
“Not when all I can think about is you and what I’ve done to you,” he replied quietly. 
“Why, what have you done to me?”
He shook his head, mumbled something like ‘fuck it’, then pulled his mask to his nose and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him getting in trouble for this. Price would be angry, because he believed if he could refrain from lighting a cigar indoors, so could others. So now that Ghost was inhaling the smoke with closed eyes, you didn’t know what to do or say. He would eventually speak up, right? 
Just when you were beginning to think he wouldn’t talk to you, his amber eyes landed on you and he said, “I sent you in there. You got hurt because of me.”
Soap had been right, he really did blame himself. Interesting. “Ghost, that wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. “Shit happens, it comes with the job. Don’t blame yourself.”
His free hand moved to take yours in his, and his long, thick, and gloved fingers wrapped around it gently. “I’m not blaming myself for you getting hurt, I know it comes with the job. I just can’t stop thinking about the what ifs. What if you died? What if you got so injured you would be discharged from the force? What if you were mad at me? What if you left me behind?” This last one made you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered this after what happened,” he told you. 
“Never thought about leaving you behind,” you admitted. “You would mind? If I left and we never met again, I mean.”
Instead of answering, he raised your hand to his lips. “You and me… That would be quite a conversation, wouldn’t it? With your reputation and mine… Well,” he said, and you could see the shining in his eyes that gave away he was smiling. 
It took you a minute to realize he was talking about the two of you being in a romantic relationship. He was right, this would be huge. You were also a lieutenant, he wasn’t your superior, but people feared you both for different reasons. Ghost was… Ghost. All he had to do was stare at someone for five seconds and they would run away screaming. You, on the other hand, were feared because you were unpredictable. One wrong word and you would be at the poor bastard’s throat. 
So yeah. If there was anything to know, people wouldn’t shut up about it. You wondered if he was aware of the bets recruits were making about you. If there was anyone from base you slept with, it would be Ghost according to most of them. Maybe they were right. Maybe that was bound to happen. But maybe Ghost was taking part in the bet for fun. 
“I don’t care about that bet,” he suddenly spoke up. You were terrified for a moment since you had no idea how he figured out what you were just talking about. “I care about you. Would you mind if I kissed you?” 
You were too stunned to respond, all you could think about was the fact he dared to ask you this. You weren’t that close, not with him keeping a comfortable distance all the time. “Right now? Yeah, I would mind. Let’s just get to know each other first, yeah? Maybe over a drink.”
Ghost placed a soft kiss on your hand. “Anything you want,” he told you with a smile before pulling down the mask and getting rid of the remains of his cigarette. 
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swingingthehatchetnow · 6 months
Text
Pete always averted his eyes around the homeless man downtown. Whether it was because he got awkward around social interaction or felt unwarranted guilt about the man’s situation, he’d never managed to look the man in the eyes before. He couldn’t describe his face if he tried.
That changed after Jägerman.
The things that used to be uncomfortable really weren’t anymore. After holding court with the Void, a man on the street really doesn’t seem all that intimidating. Ruth and Richie would’ve made fun of him if he was scared of the little things after the whole ordeal, he knew. It helped him to imagine their reactions. Coping and whatnot.
His walk home was lonelier. As were his study sessions and social life. But the walks home were when he really felt their loss. Even though Pete and Ruth lived in the opposite direction, they’d walk with Richie to his place, and then cut through downtown to get back to the other side of town, where he and Ruth would part ways near the Coldstone, both going to their respective homes.
He still followed that route. Coping. And whatnot.
It was just after noon. Pete had his AP statistics final in the morning, and had no class in the afternoon, because his teachers were proctoring other exams around the school. So here he was. Peter Spankoffski, walking through downtown Hatchetfield, alone. Steph had a full school day, so he wouldn’t see her until later.
“Excuse me, do you have a minute to talk about saving our planet?”
He turned. The Green Peace girl was at it again, with a wide smile and a clipboard in hand.
“It’ll only take a minute of your time,” she continued, now holding out a brochure. Trying to reduce the amount of time he had to talk to her, he took it wordlessly.
“I, um—” his voice cracked, and his face flushed red. Nobody else his age was still having voice cracks. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take a look at it. Saving the world and all.”
Not like he hadn’t done that once already.
The Green Peace girl smiled even wider, and did a little bouncey turn on her heel. The way she bobbed off reminded Pete of Steph when she was in a particularly happy mood. This thought relaxed him a bit.
He tucked the brochure into his pocket and continued walking, though he didn’t get far before he was cut off by someone else.
“Spare change for the homeless?”
Of course he knew that voice. Anyone who spent more than five minutes downtown knew about the homeless man.
Before he even looked at the man in front of him, Pete reached for his wallet. He’d just gotten a bonus at work, so he figured he had a few dollars to spare. Besides, his movie theater job paid surprisingly well.
He grabbed a $5 bill and turned to the man.
“Here you—”
He knew that face.
Older, sure, and a little lost-looking, but there was no doubt about it. Pete was looking at…
“Teddy?”
The 20 year age gap between the Spankoffski boys left them with an interesting dynamic. It was hard to feel like brothers sometimes when one of them was coming home from kindergarten while the other was getting a full time job at CCRP.
But they had their moments. When Pete was learning how to drive, Ted would let him use his car, even though he hadn’t gotten his license yet, or the night before freshman year, when Ted gave Pete his ‘Spankoffski guide to charming the ladies’ guidebook.
Hand trembling, holding out the $5 bill, Pete looked into the cloudy eyes of his older brother. His older older brother.
Somehow, some way… Ted was standing in front of Pete, a shadow of his former self.
“That’s way cool, man,” he said, taking the $5 from Pete. No sense of recollection could be seen.
“Ted, what happened to you…?” Pete watched Ted pocket the money. And then Ted… walked off. Just like that.
“Ted, wait!” Pete called after him, but Ted didn’t turn around. He simply tugged his hat down over his ears and walked off.
With trembling hands, Pete reached for his phone. He spent no more than 3 seconds looking for his brother’s contact info and hitting the call button.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Four…
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
Pete sighed in relief at the sound of his brother’s voice on the other end of the line.
“No,” he said, “my AP exam was today. Ted, I—” he paused, realizing he had no idea what he was going to say. How do you ask someone if they know that they’re the homeless man from downtown.
He lost his nerve.
“…I was just wondering if you want to hang out later. I— I got a new game, and—”
“Yeah, sure whatever. I get off work at the usual time.” A sound came from Ted’s end of the line, fabric shifting, like he’d adjusted how he was sitting. “Is that all? Because I was about to pull the ol’ Spankoffski charm on this barista that Paul is trying to snag.”
The familiarity of the conversation was enough to ease Pete’s worries. Sure, he’d held court with the Void, lost his two best friends, nearly got shot executioner-style, and ran into what he was certain was some version of his brother in the streets… but all that didn’t matter because somewhere in downtown Hatchetfield, Ted Spankoffski was fine. And so was Pete.
“I don’t say it a lot, but I’m glad you’re my brother, Teddy.”
“Sorry, I was talking to Charlotte. Did you say something?”
Pete smiled and hung up.
Maybe the universe was bigger than he knew and could ever understand.
So what.
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
Broken
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You wonder if Miguel is broken beyond repair, because he surely believes that.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Angst + hurt/comfort (some fluff)
To say you were pissed off would be the understatement of the year. There was only so much a single person could withstand when it came to this.
You kept shoving your belongings hurriedly inside your backpack, determined to leave his place before crossing paths.
It would be better this way. For everyone involved.
That was until you caught sight of flashes of electric red outside the bedroom window.
“For fuck’s sake…”
You took pride in being fast, but Miguel O’Hara was faster and far more relentless, and before you could react, he was standing tall beside you. “Hey.”
Your spine snapped straight like a whip and you glared at him. Unmasked and unmoving. There was guilt written on all over his face, which fueled your anger even more, because now you knew you were justified in your feelings.
“Bye,” you said, slinging the backpack over your shoulder and heading towards the open window ready to take a dive into the cool air of Nueva York.
“We should talk,” he called from behind you.
“Nah, we’re done.”
“Let’s talk.”
You turned back around, walking straight into his chest.
“I’m done with you,” you said with an indignant growl.
“You’re not being reasonable,” he said.
“Reasonable?!” you hissed. “You let our personal relationship get in between work! You dismissed my perfectly adequate advice during that mission, because I’m just some toy to you or whatever.”
He held up a finger. “Now, see, that’s the issue. You keep misunderstanding things.”
“Okay,” you huffed, reining in your temper as you planted your fists on your hips. “Tell me why you ignored my advice — no, tell me why you always do this. I’ve been here for years and any new recruit has more of a say than I do! Is that because we’re fucking, huh?”
You hadn't bothered to keep you voice down, which you knew was a sure way to get on his nerves, but you couldn’t care less.
But evidently Miguel did care. “Can you calm down so we can talk?”
“You don’t take me seriously,” your went on. “I mean, what is this? I don’t know what to do with whatever it is we have — had,” you promptly corrected yourself. “We screw around, I then try to prove myself on the field, and you shut me down like I’m a nuisance.”
You were about to turn to leave through the window when he held it one hand to you, causing you to roll your eyes and folding your arms. “You’re not sweet-talking your way out of this.”
“That's alright, then.”
Miguel’s hand fell to his side, and he just stood there in silence, eyes boring into yours.
You scowled at him. “Well?” you demanded. “Go on. Why so quiet now?”
“I know you’re upset with me,” he said, face hardening.
“Nice observation skills.”
“I shouldn’t have been that harsh,” he sighed.
You scoffed. “It keeps happening, so it’s a habit by now. We’re both old enough to know fully well how to separate personal from professional, right?”
“I do, but you don’t,” he said simply. “You need to understand my position here. It’s a great deal of responsibility, and you can’t expect to be favoured just because we got involved.”
“Excuse me? I never expected favouritism.”
“But it sure looks like it. Look,” he exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “In here, you have my attention, but out there I need to have yours. For the sake of each mission.”
Your stomach flipped at his words. “Attention? What attention, Miguel? Aren’t we just fuck buddies? Wasn’t that the understanding?”
His shoulders slumped. “Initially, yes. And I could stand here and blame it on you, but it’s entirely my fault.”
“Now, why would I be blamed? And for what?” you asked impatiently. There was this unshakeable feeling creeping in on you telling you he was merely speaking in riddles with the sole intent of being purposefully vague. “Are we just going to throw blame at—”
“Because you have feelings for me!” Miguel’s temper finally exploded.
Your mouth dropped open in shock, but no sound came out.
An empty silence weaved around you, filled only with the beeping sound of Miguel’s watch which he promptly silenced.
He had made it abundantly clear that your relationship was purely built on the principle of mutual pleasure. You both had needs, and it was a very straightforward ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ type of deal — albeit concerning different body parts.
Miguel broke the deafening silence first. “Trust me, it was against my better judgment.”
“Why didn’t you stop, then?”
There was no point in denying the feelings you harboured for him. There was only so much intimacy one could experience with someone else before other thoughts crept through your mind.
But what really made your heart clench was that mownyou knew that he knew, and it made things worse. So much worse.
Miguel took a long and deep breath. “Because by the time I realised how you felt, I found myself enjoying your company more than I had anticipated.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I should have stopped it,” he went on. “I don’t like dealing with attachments. Those lead to liabilities.”
Well, you’d sworn to yourself not to cry because of this. But the lump was in your throat and your eyes stung, and when you spoke your voice had turned into a whisper. "You should have told me," you said through clenched teeth.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t want to put that pressure on you!” you exploded, feeling your eyes water. “I knew it was one-sided, so what would be the point? But knowing that you now know just makes me feel so…”
Miguel paced to his bed, taking a seat by the edge. “This is why I said it’s my fault. I can’t have this in my life.”
Your eyes widened. “Have what?”
“This!” he grunted, motioning with both hands to the two of you. “This is what I do. I get involved and fuck things up.”
“You can’t control how others feel about you,” you said as you brushed a teardrop with the back of your hand. “All I want is your respect.”
“You have it.”
“Then show it! Your words mean nothing if you don’t act accordingly.”
Miguel let out an exasperated sigh. “You want what I can never give you.”
“Respect?”
He shook his head. “Love.”
The word carved into you like a dagger and not because it was a lie, but because it was painfully true.
“Why do you think I fell for you? The sex? Sure, it’s great or whatever,” you said, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. “No, Miguel. You showed me a side of you that you show no one else. You made me feel special.”
He seemed taken aback, but said nothing.
“Everyone here thinks you’re cold and distant and some vessel of righteousness,” you went on, feeling a couple of droplets stream down your face and leaving a damp trail behind. “You want everyone to think that, but you are not that person.”
Miguel scoffed, breaking eye contact with you. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“Oh, but I do,” you take a few steps closer to him, wanting him to stare back at you again. “It won’t kill you to feel something other than anger and resentment, you know? We’re humans. It’s in our nature to bond with others—”
“But we’re not really regular humans, are we?” he scowled deeply, crimson eyes narrowing at you. “I haven’t been with anyone since…” his voice faltered, hands gripping his thighs tightly. “I’m too broken.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
You saw something twist his features. Miguel didn’t like being challenged. He was so terrible at handling his emotions, that anything that he couldn’t control he grew to resent.
“I wanted you to hate me,” he said abruptly. “During missions… just like what happened today.”
“What? Why?”
“Because making you hate me felt easier than me not having feelings for you.”
There it was.
That sentence alone was enough to have your lips quiver shut, heart thumping loudly and head feeling dizzy.
“You’re an idiot,” you managed to say after a while.
“What?”
The sudden flare of rage nearly consumed you. “How could you even think that? How broken are you to convince yourself that you’re not worthy of having normal feelings for someone else?”
“Because I can’t afford it,” he explained as he rose to his feet. “The moment I give into my feelings for you, you become a liability.”
You shrunk away, feeling suddenly really tiny. “I think us getting involved was a mistake.”
He looked at you, surprised. “You’re just saying that because you know this isn’t going anywhere.”
“No, I'm saying it because I feel guilty,” you murmured, hugging yourself for comfort. “I will never understand what you’ve been through. I won’t pretend I ever will,” you paused momentarily, pondering your next words. “But I feel selfish for wanting more.”
“I'm a selfish kind of man, too,” he remarked evenly.
You nodded.
He took a step towards you and you took one back, bumping unexpectedly into the wall. Miguel seemed caught off guard by your reaction and froze, hands held up. "I’m not going to ask you to continue this.”
“It’s better that we don’t,” you whispered unconvincingly. “I’ll get over you.”
“Yes,” he said with a shrug, reaching out to touch a hand to your cheek. “I totally agree.”
You nearly melted into a puddle at his touch. It was like a punch to the stomach, knowing that he could so easily get under your skin.
“I don’t know how to fix this.”
You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel forced to be with me.”
“Too late for that.”
Your eyes zeroed in on his and he froze under the ferocity of your glare. “It’s fucking sad, Miguel. That it took things getting out of control for us to have an honest conversation.”
“I agree,” he said. “But maybe it was necessary.”
He was now stroking your cheek, and as much as you wanted to flinch away from his touch, he had somehow managed to melt your insides.
He leaned closer and you snapped your face away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of submitting.
His lips were near your ear. “Do you want to part ways?”
Your jaw clenched.
“I’ll respect your decision.”
You screwed your eyes shut, blocking him out and seeking clarity. “What if I think we should give it a try?”
“Then we must set boundaries,” he said, breath fanning your ear. “You’re an amazing spider-woman.”
You gave him a cynical snort.
“And I think we shouldn’t be paired in further missions unless strictly necessary. At least until we figure this out.
You shared the sentiment, but also craved reassurance. “But you need to let me in, Miguel. I can give you space whenever you need it, but you can’t keep building these walls around you,” you took a deep sigh. “You don’t have to with me.”
His hands were moving down your sides, and you let your backpack slide down one arm, falling to the ground. He came to rest his chin on the top of your head.
“I know.”
Having him this close to you never failed to make your heart flutter.
“I’m sorry,” he said, bringing both arms to cradle your face, pulling you into his chest. “I don’t deserve you.”
Somehow, that confession brought a faint smile to your lips. “No, you don’t.”
“Was that a smile?”
“No,” you huffed in annoyance.
“I think that was a smile.”
“Stop it. You sound as obnoxious as Lyla,” you mumbled.
“Well, I did program her,” he said, hands caressing the back of your head adoringly. “Are you calling me obnoxious?”
“Maybe.”
“Ouch,” he feigned pain in his voice.
Your stubbornness crumbled at once and you finally wrapped your arms around him.
“How could you ever think your feelings were one-sided?” he whispered, lulling you in his arms. “Silly, silly spider.”
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