#also pls let me know if there's any typo in your tag

[wonustars]

𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺

Soobin vers. | Beomgyu vers.

txt as 5sos songs: you look so perfect.

Summary: yeonjun is a well known, attractive, and respected. you two are total opposites. the last thing that you would expect is for him to take interest in you. first meeting you at a coffee shop, he beomes a regular. constantly coming back to visit, but not just for the iced americanos.

Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)

Tags: nonidol!yj, popular!yj, campuscrush!yj, shy!asocial!reader, total opposites, opposites attract, yeonjun is so sweet and gives lots of reassurance, reader is a little angsty but still a lovely mc!

SMUT! MDNI 18+ only!

Warnings: dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, afab!reader, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering, mating press, creampie, bigdick!yeonjun,this one is more on the vanilla side.

Word count: 5k words

Note: this story contains smut so minors pls DNI! I mean it, if I see you interacting i will be blocking you. hellowwww!! a lot of people really liked the preview so, heres the full thing hehe. i like half assed with the proof read so let me know if i've missed any typos, tags or warnings!! my lovely Taehyun will be after this one :)

happy reading ~

All your life you had been the one in the shadows. There are no major plot points or no “y/n moments” that people would use to describe Wattpad-like events. You weren’t upset about this though, the life you live is content, happy enough. 

A normal day-to-day for you consists only of two things, school, and working at the cafe across campus. Your life isn’t appealing to others, but you like how quiet it is. A quiet life with no disturbances, no drama, and no feelings of stress. It's a peculiar feeling to want something that seems so lonely.

The last time you witnessed a major disturbance in your life had to be the event that took place within the confines of your part-time job. Two men were trying to win the heart of a girl. Two attractive men at that. The whole time the three were quarrelling you wondered what it would feel like knowing someone wanted you that bad, that they would fight someone else to have you. 

It left an odd taste in your mouth, and a stinging feeling behind your eyes. 

“Hey… are you guys still taking orders?” a voice brings you out of your internal tangent. You perk up from the relaxed position you were in. Shamefully, you nod. Not wanting to make eye contact you head towards the register. 

“What can I get for you?” you ask, eyes trained on the ordering screen. 

“A large iced americano please, that’s all.” 

“And the name of the order?” you ask, a stupid question. No one else was in the cafe except you and this random guy. The music feels louder than it usually does, the embarrassment causes your ears to turn red. 

“Yeonjun.” 

..̇·𓏲 would you wanna run away too?

Yeonjun found himself coming to the cafe across campus more often now. The girl behind the counter piqued his interest, more than anyone he’s ever come across before. The energy you gave off, the fact that you were so shy? He couldn’t get you out of his head. So much so that he caught himself visiting you for his iced americano at least once a day. 

Yeonjun was never on the shy side, he had always been popular at school, living a life filled with social interaction. Everyone at school always adored him, not only for his looks but his charming personality. Which only made the fact that not being able to talk to you is a weird, new feeling for him. 

As much as he wanted to talk to you, he just didn’t know what to say. Where to start, how the conversation should come about. He was overthinking, and he also felt like it was wrong to only visit the cafe as an excuse to see you, like a stalker, although this is just some innocent crush. 

“A large iced americano please,” Yeonjun asks, giving you his sweetest smile. You glance up at him and give a slight nod. He has been coming to the cafe more often lately, you weren’t sure why but you weren’t complaining. A handsome customer becoming a regular was something that caused you to look forward to your shifts. 

“Is that all?” you ask, looking up to glance at his features again. Fuck he was so attractive. 

“Actually, there’s something else I wanted to ask.” Yeonjun declares, his face covered with a layer of determination. You don’t say anything, the feeling of anticipation bubbling in your stomach. “Can I also get your number?” 

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Not in a million years could you have predicted that the handsome regular would ask for your number. 

“U-um yeah sure it’s  _” you're stuttering, no one ever asked for your number before. Is this the “y/n moment” so many people on the internet talk about? 

..̇·𓏲 you look so perfect standing there

As soon as you get home from your shift a notification lights up your screen. It was a foreign feeling to see your phone light up from a notification, let alone a message. Of course, you had friends, but they preferred to hang out in person rather than text. 

You already knew who it could be from, your cheeks heating up at the thought, and possibilities of what this notification might contain. Getting ready for bed quickly, you envelope yourself in your comforter. The light from your phone screen lights up your dark room. 

unknown number: hey, is this y/n? its yeonjun. from the cafe. 

you: Yes this is y/n :) 

yeonjun: hi! you got home safely, im glad. 

you: Yes I did, and so did you. I’m also glad. 

yeonjun: lol ya i hope i didn’t come off too strong earlier. i just want to get to know you more. 

you: No you didn’t, Its ok. I didn’t think you would even want my number. It was kind of a surprise. 

yeonjun: what ofc i would want your number, i think you’re really pretty. and you make good americanos

you: Thank you, it just wasn’t what i was expecting. Americanos arent rocket science tho, its literally water and espresso lol 

yeonjun: yeah ik but they taste so much better when you make them :)

It’s only been a few minutes since you and Yeonjun started talking over text, but your face has already turned into a deep shade of crimson. Throwing your phone across your bed, you shove your face into your pillow letting out a scream. The sound of your feet hitting your bed as you kick them and giggle like a mad woman. As you come back to your senses, you quickly remember that you have yet to reply. 

you: You flatter me Yj, you should keep coming back for them if you like them so much. 

yeonjun: yj? even my nickname sounds sweeter coming from you, but the Americanos weren’t the only thing i was coming back for. 

The smile on your face hurts your cheeks. Never has anyone made you feel like Yeonjun did as he texted you. The blatant flirting and numerous compliments realized how much you were missing out on while living your mundane student life. 

It had only been a few hours of texting each other back and forth, but you started to grow fond of the person Yeonjun is. He’s so handsome, not just in the face, but also with the way he carried himself. The impression he gives off is insanely attractive. The way he made you feel wanted, liked, and cherished over the simplest things reeled you in. 

..̇·𓏲 your lipstick stain is a work of art 

It’s been a few weeks since you and Yeonjun started talking but it has started to become a part of your daily routine. You’ve become accustomed to the many good morning and goodnight texts, the late night Facetime calls, and the blatant flirting from Yeonjun. 

He still comes into the cafe daily to grab his iced americano which you look forward to every shift. 

“Hey y/n!” a voice coming from the entrance grabs your attention. 

You’re working the lunch rush and have been trying to restock the pastries in the glass display. To your dismay they weren’t cooperating with you, leaving you frustrated and tired. A sigh of defeat leaves your lips and you turn your head over to the person calling your name. 

It’s him. The one person who makes your whole shift a little better. He looked so good walking through the door. His dark blue hair appeared more vibrant than usual, and the sun was hitting his face in the most heavenly way. Your heart was pumping hard, the flow of blood running to your ears and cheeks. 

Yeonjun walks up to you, and you notice someone following close behind him. Your eyes shift between the two of them. Assuming thoughts filling your head quickly. 

She is really pretty, you thought. 

They walk up to the counter together, laughing about something amongst themselves. It made your heart sink to the floor. The feeling in itself made you want to throw up. 

Quickly, you push it aside. You were not wanting your feelings to get in the way of your professionalism, especially at work. 

“Oh, hey Yeonjun and friend. What can I get for you guys?” you ask, smiling a little too hard, trying hard to act normal.

“Two americanos pleasee,” he answers, prolonging the ‘please’ with a little pout. If not for your current situation you would’ve found Yeonjun adorable. Your heart can only feel a stinging sensation at the view of the two in front of you. 

“Sounds good. They’ll be at the end of the counter for you guys,” you mumbled, not really making eye contact with Yeonjun. 

He senses your change in mood but didn’t want to make a fuss with a line slowly forming behind him. It’s the lunch rush after all, so he brushes it off for the time being. Leaving you to work, making a mental note to ask you about it when you’re off. 

..̇·𓏲 got your name tattooed in an arrow heart

Your shift felt longer than usual, probably due to the fact that you couldn’t get Yeonjun off your mind. The feeling in your chest still hasn’t subsided. Who are you to feel jealous about him hanging around other girls? Especially knowing that the two of you aren’t even together. With that tidbit of information circling your mind, you felt even more guilt for letting jealousy get the better of you. 

Not bothering to even check your phone, you focus on getting home quickly, wanting to take a shower as soon as you got back. Walking down the sidewalk your legs felt like jelly, thankfully you didn’t live that far from work. It was already past sunset and the light summer breeze whistled with every step you took. Five minutes and you’re already standing in front of your building. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you stare up at the brown bricks towering over you, imagining your bed and the comfort it brings you. 

As you come closer to your building you see a figure leaning against the wall near the entrance. Your senses are heightened considering there usually aren’t many suspicious people who tend to hang around your building. The distance between you and this stranger has gotten smaller, revealing their identity. All the while your heart drops once again, but in relief. 

“Y/n! Hey sorry if I freaked you out. You weren’t answering my texts I thought something bad happened to you.” Yeonjun explained, coming closer to you. His scent fills your senses, calming you down in just a blink of an eye. Thank god it was just him and not some stalker. 

“Hi Junnie, sorry I didn’t answer you. I didn’t check my phone after I got off. How do you know where I live?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him, pretending to be suspicious of his actions. Your arms are crossed as you face towards him, his eyes are round as a globe. 

“U-uh sorry if I seem like a creep y/n-” he chuckles nervously as he scratches the back of his head “-I asked one of your friends because you usually shoot me text when you’re off work.” 

“Oh ok, and no I don’t think your creepy. We’ve known eachother long enough to know these types of things anyways.” You comfort him, patting his back as you tilt your head towards the entrance. Silently asking if he wanted to come upstairs with you. 

As if it didn’t exist in the first place, the feeling of jealousy brewing in your stomach disappeared. The only thing left was the warmth Yeonjun brought you, even though your relationship has been undefined. Unlabelled. He felt like a new world you had yet to explore. New experiences that you’re waiting to try. Although he was popular, especially with the women around campus, he was a total green flag. 

Yeonjun nods his head, giving you his signature heart stopper smile as you lead him up to your apartment.

The familiar air of the building envelopes you, both of your footsteps echoing as you slowly ascend up the stairs. It wasn’t too long of a trip since you live on the second floor. 

A warm hand intertwines with yours, causing the hair on your arms to stand. The chills running through your body like an electric shock. If you weren’t quick enough, you would’ve tripped on the next step; taking Yeonjun down with you. But you relax, squeezing his hand reassuringly as you allow him to continue to follow you. 

What felt like an eternity, was in reality only a minute or two. You and Yeonjun finally made it up to the front door of your home. Your hands staying intertwined even when you fetch your keys from the bottom of your bag. As you unlock the door, your shoulders instantly relax. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you clocked into work. 

“Well, this is me.” you turn to him, shyly smiling. It wasn’t much but you were happy here. 

He chuckles. “Its cute. It suits your vibe.” 

You can’t help but smile as you continue to drag him through the rest of your living space. He follows you obediently, taking in everything little by little. The whole place felt warm, cozy, familiar. Which is exactly how Yeonjun feels about you. 

“Im gonna take a shower and change. You can watch something while you wait if you’d like.” You beam up at him with his hand still glued to yours, both sets of eyes twinkling against the ambient lighting. In this specific lighting you found Yeonjun to be so pretty. The dim lighting accentuating his features; the pink tint to his lips, the sharpness of his nose, the admiration in his eyes. 

Distracted by your beauty, Yeonjun can only smile and nod. 

..̇·𓏲 dont move, honey

As you leave your room, you see Yeonjun sitting on your couch. Looks like he’s made himself at home, you thought. Giggling quietly to yourself, you close the door shut. The sound causing Yeonjun to move his eyes over to you. His eyes are stuck on your figure, he didn’t expect you to walk out in such little clothing. The lump in his throat gets harder to swallow as you make your way to him. 

Your definition of comfortable clothing is a oversized shirt and some sleep shorts. Yeonjun doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to be rude and keep staring but he just can’t tear his eyes off you. The way your wet hair is causing your shirt to dampen; giving a sneak peak at your breasts. Or the factt that your shorts barely covered any part of you, it almost looked like you weren’t wearing any at all. God, he felt like a pervert, you looked so good he couldn’t help but feel-

“Whatcha watching?” you inquire, sitting down beside him, dangerously close. 

“Hmm just some random youtube video I stumbled upon.” he shrugs, trying to look non-chalant, but in reality, he was screaming at himself for being so turned on right now. 

“Oh ok.” You turn your attention towards the TV, your body stiff as you think about the proximity between you and Yeonjun right now. It’s the frist time he’s been over, and it’s also the first time you’ve spent alone time in person. At this moment you can only wonder if he feels the same way you do. 

With that thought, the memory of the girl who accompanied him to the cafe ressurfaces. You wonder if she was something more to him, of if they are just friends. Silently you pray its the latter. The feelings you’ve grown for Yeonjun seems to strengthen with everyday and night that you two talk. Although its a sad thought, he has every right to talk to other people; especially since neither of you stated that you would be exclusive. You aren’t really an expert in these types of situations anyways. 

Ever since you were young, the only relationships you’ve experienced were through media or reading. Some of your friends would tell you about their dating experiences, but you had no stories of your own to share. You were never as outgoing as they were, and you also didn’t like the idea of going out as often as they did. Funnily enough you still ended up in a job where you had to talk to strangers. All of that had lead you to believe that you were better off living the single life, as sad as it sounds; it was true for a good portion of your life. 

Until Yeonjun. 

“H-hey can I ask you something?” you turn over to face your body towards Yeonjun, your eyes flashing with clear nervousness. He pauses the video turning towards you with curious eyes. 

“Yeah of course, anything.” He smiles at you, his hand patting your bare thigh reassuringly. The action causing your cheeks heat up almost instantly. 

“Who was that girl you were with earlier? I know it’s not my place to ask considering we’re just friends but I’ve been thinking about it all day. Obviously if you’re not comfy you do-,” He cuts you off, a giggle leaving his lips. 

“Shes just a friend. She’s dating Soobin so you don’t need to worry.” he reassures, his hand coming back to your thigh again, squeezing it lightly, but this time he keeps it there. Your heartbeat is now in your throat as you look down at his hand. The veins running along his arms were prominent; the fact that his whole hand could grip more than half your thigh caused an unfamiliar heat to flow down to your lower body. 

“O-oh, ok just pretend I didn’t ask that then,” you mumble, your eyes still focused on the way he was no rubbing your thigh. It felt good to experience this type of skinship with him, even if it wasn’t all that much. It still has you stumbling over your words. 

“I thought you knew I liked you already y/n. I thought you knew from the moment I asked for your number.” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. 

Your breath hitched not being able to move your eyes away from his lips. 

“U-um I didn’t know. No ones ever shown interest in me.” you confess, your head now turned down towards your hands as you play with them nervously. 

“Thats ok baby, I’m interested in you. I like you.” Yeonjun states firmly. His finger carefully placed under your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. The look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. This is the first time you’ve seen Yeonjun look so serious. You couldn’t help but gulp. 

“I like you too Junnie.” you whisper, your eyes locked on his. Smiling, Yeonjun strokes your cheek with his thumb. The warmth of his hand still burning onto your thigh. 

“Fuck y/n It’s so hard for me to hold back when you call me that.” His tone is low. Staring at your lips, he begins to trace their outline. 

“What? Junnie?” you provoke, matching his tone. A groan almost leaves his lips but instead his grip on your thigh only tightens. 

“May I kiss you y/n?” Yeonjun’s polite words are a stark contracts as to all the thoughts brewing in his head. You seem to have lost your voice, only nodding as you slowly try to close the gap. 

With Yeonjun’s lips on yours he grips your waist pulling you onto his lap in a swift motion. You can’t help but yelp at how easily he can move you around. It was like you were his own personal ragdoll. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he deepens the kiss.

This is your first time kissing someone but you’re glad your first is Yeonjun. Not only do you have feelings for him, but he tasted so good. It felt so wrong but right at the exact same time. 

The two of you continue to kiss passionately, and you feel yourself naturally move with the flow. Your hips starting to move back and forth slightly as Yeonjun guides you with his large hands. A tiny gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard rub against your core. Although this was all new to you, it was like you already knew what to do. Yeonjun takes the opportunity to allow his tongue to enter your mouth. This surprises you, pulling away you say,

“Junnie I-i’ve never done anything like this before.” you squeaked, burying your face into his neck. He rubs his hands up and down the sides of your thighs, soothing you. 

“Thats alright princess, I can show you how. Will you let me?” he asks, his hands moving to take your face away from the space between his shoulder and neck. Brushing the hair out of your face, he tucks the strands behind your ear. The action in itself can only cause your cheeks to burn a deep red. Everything Yeonjun did always had you feeling like the most cherished girl in the world. You can only nod as his actions have left you speechless. 

“With your words princess.” he demands, a hand snakes down to your hips giving you an encouraging squeeze. 

“Yes Junnie, please show me how,” you murmur. Steadily, you move closer to him wanting to close the gap between you two again. You want to feel the same way you did when your bodies were pressed up against eachother. 

“Alright darling, just let me know if it gets too much for you ok? I’ll only go as far as you let me.” 

“Yes Junnie.”

“Good girl.” his hands are back on your hips, his lips back on yours. The wet sounds coming from both your mouths have you riled up. Yeonjuns back to moving your hips back and forth, desperately wanting to increase the friction. The sensation of his hard dick rubbing against you was addicting. Your thin shorts not really leaving anything up to imagination. 

Yeonjun can only groan, the feeling of your warm cunt against his cock is driving his crazy. He can only wonder how it must feel to be inside you. 

“F-feel’s good Jun.” you moan into the kiss, your hips now moving on their own accord. 

“You like that princess?” he chuckles, peppering kisses along your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his tracks. Slowly his hands creep up under your shirt. It lifts ups as his hands move higher. They almost hit your bare breasts, but before he proceeds he looks up to you for approval. You can only nod, dazed from all your senses going into overdrive. 

Yeonjun doesn’t waste any time and removes your shirt. You’re left bare in front of him, the blush on your cheeks still noticeable in the dim lighting. 

“You’re beautiful love,” he assures, going back to his ministrations. Kissing up and down your neck until he reaches your breasts. He takes one in his hand and the other one in his mouth. You can only moan, your head lolling back from the pleasure. Hands gripping onto his hair for some type of balance. 

Yeonjun is rock hard under you, the pulse in his dick only getting more noticable the more he pleasures you. He wants to show you how much he wants you, to show you how much you deserved to be cherished. 

Tongue swirling around your nipple, your moans become less shy, the feeling of being pleasured taking over you. Yeonjuns mouth moving onto the other nipple as he picks you up. You yelp from the sudden movement but wrap your legs around his waist anyways. 

His feet padding towards your bedroom, he opens the door. Gently he places you on your mattress, situating himself between your legs.

“Are you still doing ok over there sweetheart?” he inquires. 

“Really ok Junnie, please keep going. Want more.” you whimper, your elbows stablizing you as you get a good view of him. He begins to remove your shorts, your pussy glistening from how wet he’s gotten you. A groan bubbles up in Yeonjuns throat; just looking at you in this light could make him cum. 

He makes himself comfortable with his head between your thighs. Taking things slow, he uses one finger to play with your entrance. Rubbing you all over, collecting your wetness before he finally pushes a finger in. 

You moan, your elbows collapsing from the pleasure. You grip your sheets as he pumps his finger in and out of you. The lewd sounds of your soaking core bouncing off the walls. After a few more pumps he adds in another finger, the stretch burning so good.

He looks up at you to see you whimpering for him, his name leaving your mouth in what sounded like a sweet melody. The way your brows scrunch with his every moves turns him on even more. Watching you coming undone on his fingers is a sight he wants to see everyday if he could.

“Let me taste you baby.” Yeonjun says with a deep tone to his voice. Every word coming out of his mouth is dripping with lust. With that warning he places a kiss on your clit, your hands moving from your sheets to grip his hair. He continues to kitten lick and suck on your sensitive bud, the pleasure sending you to another universe. 

“O-oh Junnie, it feels so good.” you squeak out. He places your legs over his shoulders, delving into you more. He’s properly eating you out now, his fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat while licking you all at the same time. As he goes on, an unfamiliar feeling starts to brew in your stomach; growing stronger as more time passed. 

“I can feel your pussy gripping my fingers baby, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go.” Yeonjun purrs, his words of encouragement is your last straw before your orgasm. 

“Good girl, so good for me. You’re doing so well my love.” he’s praising you as he moves back up to your face. Hes smirking at you as he hovers over your naked body. His own body still in between your legs, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. 

“Can I fuck you princess?” he asks.

The vulgar words spewing from his mouth, the way he asks so nicely, the way he calls you such sweet names; the polarity of it all gives you whiplash. 

“Yes please, wanna feel you inside me.” you mumble and you press kissing all along his face, moving down towards his neck. You found it so attractive how he always asks for your consent. 

He quickly undresses, both your clothes randomly thrown around the room. Situating himself between your legs once again, he sits himself on his heels. Pumping his length a few times he then rubs the tip up and down your slit, collecting your juices. The squelching sound of your lips rubbing against his him is like music to his ears. 

Yeonjun finally enters you, causing your back to arch with every inch he slowly puts in. You’ve only heard about sex through friends, but being able to experience it yourself is on another level. The stretch of his cock pushing inside you stings more than when he was fucking you with his fingers. 

“Mmm Junnie I think you’re too big,” you whimper while hes pressing kisses all over your face to soothe you. 

“It’s ok love, it’ll feel better as it goes on ok?” Yeonjun groans, as he keeps pushing into you. He continues till hes dick is buried deep inside you. Stilling for a moment, he lets you get used to the feeling. The scrunched up look on your face begins to relax, giving him a signal to start thrusting into you. 

“Fuck baby you feel so good around me.” he whispers. 

At first hes slow, but the sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his dick starts to fog his thoughts. Your moans increase in volume, his name falling off your lips repeatedly. 

“Junnie, hmmm it feels so good. Faster please.” you beg as your wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down for another kiss. Who is he to deny you? 

He fucks into you faster, this time you can hear the slapping sounds as his length goes in and out of you. One of his hands moving between the two of you to rub your clit and his thrusts to turn sloppy. 

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head the more Yeonjun pumps his dick into you. You could feel his length kiss your cervix with every thrust. This is all so new to you, and the only thing you could do is keep moaning and telling him how good it felt.

“This pussy was made for me. Isn’t it baby?” he states rather than asks.

“Y-yes Jun.” you’re a stuttering mess, you could barely answer him as it is.

“Taking me so well princess. I wanna fuck you like this all the time now.” he praises again, taking your thighs and pressing them towards your stomach. The new angle causes you to whimper, you can feel him so much deeper. Your gummy walls are practically suctioning him.

You moan in response. He’s fucked you dumb at this point, cock drunk with every move he makes inside your wet cunt.

“Can I cum inside you baby?” he asks in between kisses. 

“Please Junnie, wanna feel you cum in me.” you moan, the feeling of your clit being stimualted as he fucks you is causing you to see stars. You cum around him, gripping his dick as you ride out your second orgasm. As if on queue Yeonjun relases his cum inside you, halting his thrusts. He continues to kiss you making sure you feel loved and wanted, his member still buried inside you. 

“You were amazing for your first time princess.” he praises you once again, you kiss him in response. 

“Lets do it again please.” you giggle. 

Yeonjun kisses up your neck, his cock still rock hard. 

“Whatever you want love.” he responds, thrusting into you again. 

© wonustars

#yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #txt smut #txt fic #yeonjun hard hours #wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {series: txt as 5sos songs} #wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}

[coolaboutlucy]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 | 𝙚. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨

pairing: nepo baby!business owner!ellie williams x afab!business owner!reader

tags: smut, fingering (r receiving), pet names/name calling?? (dirty girl, pretty, good girl, baby), slight praise??, god why is tagging so hard, mild language, unethical business practices??, thoughts are green, ellie lowk an asshole, but both reader and ellie are pretty harsh to eachother, maybe that’s it, bare with me if i forget something pls. 😭🙏

a/n: i wrote this directly on tumblr bc i did NAWT feel like pulling up google docs today saur the format might be a lil off. i was watching this show on netflix called ‘locked up’, and like an episode from season two is what inspired this!!! 😜 the show is good honestly it just drags on sometimes!!! ive actually never actually written smut any times before this (believe it or not hehe) anyways, let’s get into it!!!

P.S - DEDICATED TO @sweetysaccharine YAWP YAWP!!!! <333 HOPE U ENJOY POOKIEEEE

P.P.S - don’t look at the typos or i will find you (IM JOKING)

rumors traveled fast, and sometimes it wasn’t always good. for one, they could be infuriating. a company you’d been toe to toe with for.. quite some time had gotten a new ceo. some young girl. articles appeared online about some kinda nepotism scandal. the photo on the top of the article displayed a photo of the previous ceo — joel miller, and the new owner, ellie. they looked happy. but why were they accused of something as harmful as nepotism? long story short, joel turned his brother down for the position (even though he was the better option) so ellie could have it. favoritism of sorts. but god was she infuriating! her stupid, flashy displays of wealth (that probably didn’t even belong to her) made you so mad! and also, her arrogance and her constant need to compete with you was very infuriating aswell. you had influence, she had money. wouldn’t these things be considered as a double kill in some perfect world? yes. would you ever even consider working with someone like her? absolutely not. you couldn’t even stand being in the same vicinity as her whenever you two ended up at the same social events.

imagine that terrible, ugly feeling of anger that coursed hot through your veins once finding out she’d brought possibly one of the biggest clients you could’ve ever had. it was one thing for her to shove it in your face that she was wealthy but this? she’d completely overstepped. storming your way through the companies large building, you find yourself at her offices door knocking like a madwoman. “open the goddamn door, williams!” you yell as you attempt to open the door on your own. she doesn’t say anything, but you’re just almost certain she’s smirking or something. she opens the door with this.. look. it was weird. a perfect mixture of condescending, arrogance, and ‘i know what i did and i don’t regret it’. “are you insane?” “mm.. yeah. i guess so.” you laugh, dumbfounded by her. “how bout you come into my office for a seat and a drink?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “let’s handle this civilly, shall we? knowing you, i have the feeling that this could get real ugly.” she pushed open the door with that same condescending/arrogant smile. of course, reluctantly, you walk inside. maybe this could be resolved civilly.

the sound of some smooth music played. it sounded like micheal buble or something. she walks around her desk to pour you a glass of bourbon. she hands it to and you just hold it. “it’s not poisoned, see?” she says before taking a sip. you take a sip and of it before putting the glass on her desk. “so, i realized that.. i have something you want.” the something being that client. “why else would i be here? that was a really petty move and you know that.” she chuckled. “yknow, i could just.. refer them back to you.” initially, you’re in disbelief. ellie? being generous? no way. she must’ve completely lost it. “but! it comes with a price.” of course it does. nothing was free, not in this economy. you kept your expectations low for this very reason. you raise an eyebrow at her. “we could work together. become business partners.”

she turns her music up a little. she dances her way over to you, circling you a bit. “no chance, ellie. how could i ever work with someone like you?” she chuckled again. “why wouldn’t you work with ‘someone like me’? you have something that i want aswell.” “what?” “power. influence. however you may wanna word it. i admire that.” it had to be some sick joke. why would she wanna work with you? “shouldn’t all your daddys money be more than enough to keep you in a position of power?” you quarry, then crossing your arms. a part of you didn’t believe that she’d been the one asking you for help.

“just think about it. me, giving you money. you, drawing power hungry clients in with that pretty face of yours. we’d work together like yin and yang.” she proposed before taking another sip of the drink in her glass. that was her giving a go at an analogy. was it good? she didn’t know. did she care? not at all. “you bullshitting me, williams?” “not at all. all you gotta do.. is say ‘yes’. cmon.” she offers her hand, those pretty slender fingers and that tattoo that peeking from underneath that black button up shirt were just so.. enticing. you were in your head, just thinking. was this a good idea? could i trust her? she probably has bad intentions. but she was so tempting. this had to be one of the seven deadly sins or something.

she snaps infront of your face. “where’d you go?” she asks. “nowhere.” you respond quickly. “so, you taking the offer or not? or.. will i have to convince you?” she takes a step closer to you. temptation taints your brain.

you’re not in control of your thoughts anymore. ellie was.

her hand seeks solace on your waist. “shouldn’t finding business like this be considered illegal?” you whisper to her. “im not a law abiding woman. and quite frankly, i don’t give two shits.” maybe it wouldn’t be illegal if nobody knew. but all you thought about was her. how she smells. how she’s looking at you. how her hands feel on your body. you can’t stop yourself. your lips crash down onto hers. your fingers tangle in her auburn hair as the both of you kiss passionately. she brings you to her desk, knocking stuff over as she sat you on her desk.

glass shattered, pictures were knocked out of their frames, and her computer mouse was.. somewhere. your back arches into her touch as you let out a soft moan into her mouth. she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. in the competition of dominance between your tongues, she reigns supreme. her hands slide up your body and end up on your oxford button up shirt. she doesn’t unbutton it, she rips that shit open. “i’ll get you a new one.” she mumbled as the buttons from the shirt scatter across the room.

“you’d better. or else id have to come back here and get it by force.” “oh please, you’ll be back here for more reasons than a goddamn shirt.” she said as she peppers kisses down to your jawline, then your neck. “don’t leave any marks.” “but why?” “oh, i dunno, cause i don’t want anyone asking me who i had sex with?” “who gives a shit? your workers get paid to look the other way, don’t they?”

well, she makes a good point. and you can’t argue with a point as valid as that. she sinks her teeth into a sweet spot of your neck, making you moan out as she runs her tongue along the new mark. she sticks her tongue out again to run it all the way down to one of your boobs. the sensation makes you shiver. “wore this pretty bra for me, didntcha? you were just expecting this. you must’ve wanted me to touch you like this, didn’t you? dirty girl. must’ve been waiting for me to bend you over this table.” she rambled all while stripping you of your bra, then leaving soft kisses and licks across the valley of your breasts.

she takes her time, making you wait for it. she knew what she was doing to you, and she was going to make you wait. “ellie, you’re going soo slow! you know what i want.” you whine as she leaves kisses and bites all over your exposed skin. “tell me what you want or you’ll get nothing. tell me where you want me.” she whispered. “i want your fingers.” “where?” “you know where.” “tell me or you get nothing.” you hesitate for a moment before saying feebly. “in.. in my pussy..” “that’s a good girl.”

she smiles as she pushes her hands into your slacks. she could feel your wetness. “i got you this worked up, huh? who knew little miss perfect could get this wet over me, a ‘nepo baby’?” she teased with a cocky smile. she slowly slides your slacks and underwear all the way down to your ankles before she applies a delicious amount of pressure to your clit. you gasp, your hand wrapping around her wrist. “oh, you like that do you, huh? you want more? fucking beg for it. cmon.” she applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing small and soft circles as her fingers ghost your sopping entrance. “oh— please ellie, i need more. give me more.” “gonna take more than that, baby.” you whine when she suddenly takes all that pressure away from you.

you let out another whine as you attempt to rut against her hand. her free hand slaps your thigh as she shakes her head in disapproval. “none of that. keep still. you get nothing until you beg like a good girl.” “please, please. ill do anything. just please touch me.” she chuckles at you. she found it cute how you were so desperate to chase that pleasure. “god, you’re so desperate. you need it so.. goddamn bad, don’t you?” she lets out a grunt in the middle of her sentence as she suddenly plunged into your pussy.

as she moves her fingers, she groans at how wet her you were. first she starts with middle finger, then adding her ring finger. her long fingers are hitting that sweet spot in you. she was making you see stars. “listen to yourself. look at ‘er, she’s crying for me.” she coos as she speeds her pace. you moan out. “watch me, baby.” you slowly look down at her fingers plunging in and out of you. sounds of wet squelching fill your ears. you bite your lip and you toss your head back as you let out a moan. you grind yourself down onto her fingers, chasing that wonderful and blissful orgasm.

you felt a pressure building up in your stomach. your eyes were fluttering open and shut. everytime you looked away, she stopped. you made sure to not look away. once that pressure in your stomach felt like it was gonna release, your moans became more broken. “ellie! ellie— oh fuck! ellie! im gonna cum! don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you say between moans as you bring your hand back down to hold her wrist in place.

“oh yeah? gonna cum? let go for me. make a mess on my fingers. cmon. i know you can do it.” she said as she kept her pace at that same one that was making you see stars. she’d been rambling something to you, talking you through it as she watched you cum all over her fingers. she helps you ride out your orgasm, a slight tremble in your legs becoming more apparent.

“what do we say?” “thank you.” she smiled as she pulled her fingers out. the sudden loss makes you whine. she sucks her fingers clean and you watch as her tongue runs across the length of her fingers. “still being a tease, williams?” you ask as you look at her while she does it. “mm.. well no, i dont think so. just savouring how good you taste.” when she was finally satisfied, she drops her hands. “so, you finally ready to stop being so stubborn and take the deal?” “not a chance if it means we get to have sex like this.” you respond with a chuckle. “maybe you need to be fucked again, hm?” she ask with a smile.

needless to say, you’d went another time, and on the third you fucked ellie. eventually you come to some sort of agreement after you’d been laid on her leather sofa, naked and feeling like you were floating. the only question you had now is what the hell had you gotten into. “will this turn into a scandal?” you ask. “.. probably not if we keep this under wraps.” she responds as she puts her head in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to it. “plus, yknow i can just pay the media off right? they won’t say anything. not a peep.” she reassured as she smiled softly.

#wlfabby #tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us part two #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #ellie x afab!reader #ellie smut #tlou x reader smut

[ihadlife]

Achilles' Heel

pairing: (aged up) pro hero!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

synopsis: You and Bakugo aren't dating, so you can't be really mad when he's toying with you. What you can be, though, is miserable. Especially when you get laid off from work. And to whose else's arms can you run into other than the person who's hurting you the most. 

tags: 18+, adult content, fem!reader, fem gendered pronouns and pet names, angst, so much fucking angst, baby trapping, unprotected sex, dumbification, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talking, oral sex (male and female receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, impact play, unrequited love, reader and other people smoke, reader has crippling mommy issues and self-isolates, the worst possible decisions ever made at all times, toxicity contest between reader and Bakugo i guess

an: crossposted on ao3. reader makes decisions so bad i wanted to smack her head against concrete all the time. if you're reading this for the smut i suggest you skip this one, it's not centered around it. it was pain in the ass to write bakugo’s direct speech but if it doesn’t make sense from an accent standpoint i’m begging you let me know and i’ll adjust it. and as always, english is my second language so if you spot any mistakes or even typos pls let me know.

“I get that he was like… busy, and probably exhausted after, but he could’ve sent me a message at least, you know?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been telling you he’s a dick.” 

Your best friend inhaled the cold autumn air through the tobacco and filter in their cigarette, filling their lungs with smoke before exhaling it, letting it mix with the breeze. 

“He’s not a dick… there’s just a lot on his plate.” You tried defending him, but even to your own ears, the words that had left your mouth sounded pathetic and feeble. “God knows how I would’ve acted if I had his job.” 

You were looking down at your own hands, playing with the handle of the mug that was now empty, the coffee in it long gone. You didn’t even have to look up to know that your friend was giving you a dirty look. 

To be fair, they weren't completely wrong. You still couldn’t get behind their words – a dick – but you more or less agreed with their general idea: he wasn’t treating you right and you deserved better. 

Knowing and realising all that, you still couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it. 

“You would’ve been honest and communicated.” They took another drag through their cigarette. “And he should be too. If he wants to keep a relationship.” 

The truth was, he had a demanding job. Being a pro hero and saving people’s lives almost every single day was taxing. Not only physically, but also mentally. You understood that. You had let him know that you understood. 

Still, as your friend said, and even as your own head was telling you, wanting him to communicate his needs and intentions beforehand was the bare minimum. Not even letting a problem arise and preventing it. Because he should have cared. 

The thing that hurt you the most was that it hadn’t always been like that. 

At the start, when you two met, he was attentive. Funny. Kind. Charming. You were sure he was still the same person, only not towards you. Not anymore, at least.

You entertained your friend and they tried to distract you from your own thoughts for about another hour before you both got up and went separate ways, counting on seeing each other sometime in the next two weeks again. Not that any of you could make it longer without seeing each other. 

You decided to take the longer walk home, hop to a small market on your way and buy some necessities you needed. Maybe pick up something small to treat yourself. 

Your heels were clapping on the sidewalk loudly, your tempo moderate. Your feet hurt after spending the entire day in your heels and once again you cursed yourself for choosing this type of footwear when you had known you would have to spend an entire day in them. There was a huge blister forming on your right Achilles, you were sure. 

You fished your phone from your purse without even thinking about it, your thumbs moving on the screen as if they’d had a mind of their own. Or maybe it was a muscle memory at this point. 

You opened the messages app on your phone and stared at the screen. Maybe hoping that if you stared long and hard enough, you would somehow manifest his response. Or maybe he would even open and read the message instead of leaving you on delivered. 

I’m sorry to hear that! You really should take a few days off, you deserve it :( 

Pathetic. 

Scoffing at yourself you put your phone back into your purse and entered the small market. After greeting the lady who owned the shop you grabbed a basket and started browsing the isles. 

You liked this market. The owner was aloof, she never asked you personal questions. You had been going here for long enough for the lady to remember you, you were one of the regular customers, yet she treated you like a stranger every time. 

You appreciated that. This kind of curtness. 

You began your usual route around the small store – a route you’d walked so many times you would be able to walk it with a scarf around your eyes without bumping into a single thing. 

You idly strolled through the shop, picking up the stuff you needed. 

Toast bread. 

A premade sandwich with cheese, ham, and cucumber. 

Spam ham. 

Canned fish. 

A few packets of instant ramen. 

Cheap coffee. 

Two single rolls of toilet paper. 

Two bottles of soju. 

Your feet stopped once you were in front of the register. You put the basket on the counter with a tiny smile and waited for the owner to scan the items. 

Your eyes slid from the small woman to the stand next to the register, where the magazines were, all kinds together. The serious ones and the ones that just wrote about celebrity gossip. Living and lifestyle ones. Ones for teenagers. Weekly sudokus and crossword puzzles. 

You weren’t the same scared, shy, uncertain intern as you were a few years ago. You’ve earned your place in the publishing company; you were a proper columnist at that point. So when your boss had assigned you the interview with the pro hero that would be the main feature of the next issue, you had been elated and had readily accepted the task. You had been sure this would help further your career. Maybe help you get a raise. 

As you had soon learned, you might have been a good columnist, but you were still very much naive. You hadn’t gotten a raise. Nor had the feature helped the career. 

What you’ve gotten out of the interview, however, was your phone number in Dynamight’s phone. 

“Thanks for the interview, it was great.” You smiled and closed your laptop right after saving the file. 

“No, ya were great.” 

You laughed a little, bashful, a quiet ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you put your laptop into its case and into your faux leather bag that was resting against the chair you were sitting in. 

“I mean it,” he leaned back in his luxurious office chair, his elbows resting on the arms of the seat. “Most of the interviews I do are real uncomfortable. People love bein’ nosy and invadin’ my  fuckin’ privacy.” 

“You can’t blame them,” you grinned. “Of course, they wanna know everything about one of the most popular heroes.” 

“And ya?” He asked after a slight pause and butted his chin in your direction. 

“Me?” 

“D’ya wanna know everythin’ ‘bout the most popular hero?” 

You didn’t miss the way he changed ‘one of the most popular’ to ‘most popular’. Shameless. 

“Uhm,” you bit your lower lip, not really sure what to answer. 

“Lemme take ya out.”

You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. His cockiness and the roughness around the edges were more alluring than you would like to admit. 

“Okay.” You breathed out and gave him a nervous smile. 

Were you ready to go on a date with a pro hero though? 

“Sorry?” You apologised to the woman when you realised she had said something. 

She repeated the total price to you. 

Oh, right. 

You fumbled with your purse a little and fished out your wallet. 

“Could you please add a bag to that?” 

The woman grabbed one plastic bag from under the counter and put it on top of the things you purchased, not bothering to bag them. 

���Actually… I would also like some cigarettes. And a lighter.” You put your wallet on the counter and started bagging the groceries yourself. 

“What kind?” Was all she said, but you didn’t miss the judgy look she gave you. 

“Gold Marlboro.” 

She turned around to retrieve the cigarette box and basic, plastic lighter in a bright blue colour and handed them to you. 

You finished bagging your stuff quickly, paid for it and with a goodbye exited the market. 

A silent groan left your lips when you felt the rocky cement underneath your feet again, the back of your shoe digging into your Achilles more than before. The blister was going to be a big one. 

The rest of the route to your home was uneventful. Thankfully. Once you opened the front door of the crappy building where you lived, you stood in front of the elevator. 

It was old, unreliable, and just barely held together. This is why you usually took the stairs, but the painful cushion filled with fluid made you reconsider your actions. You looked from the elevator to your feet. It was either the stairs which would abuse your blister even more, or the risky elevator. 

You sighed as you carefully stepped out of the heels. 

“Shit.” 

The blister that formed on your Achilles during the day must have popped and was now bleeding. Your entire heel and the inside of your shoe were stained with red that was slowly turning brown; the edges were crusty and flaking.  

“Great.” 

You bent down to pick up the bloody shoes in your free hand and started walking up the stairs. The stone and occasional tiles of the floor were just a tad too cool on your soles but you didn’t necessarily mind the sensation. It felt nice on your slightly swollen feet after the entire day. 

Once you made it to the seventh floor – your floor – you stopped in front of the door to your apartment, and with a loud bang let the shoes fall from your hand to the floor. The bag with your groceries followed suit and soon you were trying to fish out your keys from your faux leather shoulder bag. 

Your phone started vibrating, set on silent mode. Scrambling to quickly pick it up, you found your phone in record time and checked the caller’s ID, hoping to find a certain hero’s name on the display. 

Your eyebrows furrowed a little when you found out it was your mother calling you. Inhaling deeply and breathing out through your nose, you slid your finger over the screen and put the phone against your ear. 

“Hi, mom!” Your voice was too high-pitched as you greeted her. You leaned your head heavily to the side and squished the phone between your ear and your shoulder to keep your hand empty. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You pulled a face at the pet name. You hated loving it. 

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy right now. Is it important?” You slightly fumbled with your bag as you kept trying to find your keys. 

“Oh, no, I just wanted to call and ask how you’re doing,” you could hear the smile in her voice. 

“I’m doing fine! Listen, would it be alright if I call you tomorrow? I’ve got a lot of things I still gotta do today.” You were lying through your teeth. 

It took only a few more seconds of conversation with her, and you both agreed on a call the next day when you ‘have more time’. You tossed the phone in your bag and rummaged through all the things once again before you found your keys in the bottom corner of your bag and unlocked the door. 

 First, you walked into the small and cramped hall of your apartment and put down your purse, then just halfway stepped out of your flat to retrieve your shoes and finally the bag with groceries. 

Eventually, you closed and locked the door behind you, the grocery bag in your arms as you stepped into the apartment that was way too small to even fit a single person. Not even two steps later you were in your living room and bedroom and after three more steps and turning the corner twice you were standing in the ‘kitchen’. ‘Kitchen’ with quotation marks, because the very few cabinets with a sink and without a proper oven could hardly count as a regular kitchen. 

The apartment was horrible. It was in a worse part of town – not necessarily the worst, but bad enough. The prefabricated block of flats was old and in desperate need of renovation; the plaster on the outside of the building was slowly crumbling, the insolation was thinner than the walls between apartments, the pipes were rusty, and you heard that several neighbours of yours from lower levels had complained about mould. 

Most of the people here, except for a few old grandmas and young women around your age, were unfriendly. The neighbours, with whom you shared one of the living room walls, were too loud. 

Oftentimes, there were strange smells, ones you could not identify or describe. Whether they were lingering in the hall of the building or, for some godforsaken reason, in your own flat, they always lasted only a couple of hours. 

During your walks up and down the stairs to get to or from work, you’d meet people who’d make you cross the street if you met them in the city at night. They were mostly younger men with pronounced eyebags and a strut that was either overconfident or not confident enough. 

The only reason you stayed there was because it was cheap and the commute to your work from here was alright. Even with a salary that was too low for the job you did, you were able to afford it and even save a little bit of money on the side for any possible emergencies. 

You set the grocery bag on the counter and went back into the hall to take your probably ruined shoes, bringing them to your minuscule bathroom and setting them on the floor in your shower, deciding on trying to salvage them later. 

On your way back to the living room you took your work bag with you. Opening the window first and letting the cold autumn breeze in, you sat down on the couch and fished around in your bag once again, looking for the cigarettes and lighter that you put separately into your purse. Once you found it, you chucked the bag without any care on the floor and leaned back on the couch, putting your bare feet up on the coffee table. 

You hissed as the raw meat on the back of your heel came into contact with the old glass top of the table that needed some proper cleaning, but ultimately did nothing to alleviate the pain. Instead, you took a single cigarette out of the package and rested it between your lips, inhaling at the same time as your fingers brought the fire from the lighter to life. 

You left the cigarette hung from your mouth, held by your dry lips, and leaned your head back, your hands splayed on the sides of your body. 

The fact was, you were exhausted. 

And you didn’t even have a good reason for it. 

Sure, work sucked. You worked like a dog only to be constantly overlooked and not earn enough. You were lying to your own mother every time you talked, pretending you were much more successful than you actually were, trying to get on her good side and receive any bit of praise. You hated living in your apartment. You were seeing a man who probably didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him. 

The only good thing was your high school friend, always by your side and ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. 

Maybe you should go see a therapist. 

You closed your eyes and deeply breathed in the stale air that refused to move even with the window opened through the tobacco and filter. You wondered what Bakugo was doing right now. Maybe he was working on the paperwork in his office, sitting behind the big, wooden table that you’d once seen. Or maybe he was out, patrolling with one of his sidekicks, walking in the streets. Maybe he was covered with fake sweat, flexing his muscles for a shoot for another men's magazine. 

Your mind lingered on the image of that. 

His healthily tanned skin taut over his herculean muscles, the drops of water rolling down and creating a web of moisture, leaving goosebumps behind. 

You pressed your thighs together, putting a small amount of pressure on the nether part of your body. 

You thought back to all the passionate moments you’d spent with the pro hero. Bakugo might have been getting on your nerves lately due to his behaviour but he was an exceptional lover. He was the best you’d ever had, not that you would admit it out loud. That fiery personality of his projected itself well in the bedroom. 

You brought your hand to the cigarette between your lips, took it away from the dry skin and shook off the stack of ash that was growing bigger and bigger at the end of the tobacco. Even though the hot ash landed on the floor covered by very cheap linoleum that was slowly peeling in some corners, you didn’t care. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, princess,” Bakugo was panting above you, the drops of sweat rolling down his forehead, neck, and chest and occasionally landing on your damp skin. 

Your pussy was drooling on his dick, your juices wet on your inner thighs as well as his entire crotch and lower abdomen. He was bullying your body with his cock, repeatedly slamming it in and out of you at a fast pace. 

“Katsuki,” you pleaded. You didn’t even know what you were asking him — to slow down? To change the angle? To fuck you harder? Your brain was a mush at that point and all you could think about was him, him, him. 

“Not my name, sweetheart,” he grinned and slapped the top of your cunt with his hand, successfully hitting your clit. 

You winced and tried to comprehend what he just said to you. Once the words registered, you corrected your mistake. 

“Dyna- Dynamight!” His hero name on your lips was cut in half by your gasp. 

“There we go.” He praised you. He didn’t move his hands from your hips when he angled them more, making your back arch and your pussy more open for him. “Your pussy fits me like a fuckin’ glove.” 

Your head was swimming from all the sensations. Bakugo’s dirty talking, his hot breath hitting your calves while your legs were propped up on his shoulders, the blunt nails on his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, the tip of his dick dragging along your warm walls while he made sure you could feel him for several days to come. 

“Look at ya,” he continued. “My dick feels so good’ya can’t even think, huh? Did I fuck ya dumb, princess?” There was a mocking tone to his voice while he talked. 

In a normal situation, if you were having sex with anybody else, you would’ve been embarrassed. Both about the mocking and also about the fact that he was right. To be fair, none of your exes were able to fuck you good enough to get you into this state. But with Bakugo you couldn’t even manage to form thoughts coherent enough to feel the embarrassment at the moment. 

“Dynamight,” was all you managed to let slip from your lips. 

With the cigarette still between your lips, you unbuttoned your trousers and pushed your dominant hand under the fabric of your panties, the tight cotton sandwiching your fingers between the textile and your cunt. 

You circled your entrance to gather some moisture, your pussy just starting to get wet. With the now slick pad of your finger, you moved it upward, tucking it a little underneath the hood to touch your clit directly. 

Breathing out cigarette smoke from your nostrils, you leaned your head back, resting it against the headrest of your couch. With your eyes closed and a gentle sigh leaving your lips, you started moving the finger in circular motions. 

“That’s right, princess.” 

Your eyes were watering as you tried to swallow around the thickness of his cock in your throat. 

“Fuck yeah, just like that.” His grip on your hair tightened. You were running out of air and fighting your gag reflex when you put your palms on his strong thighs, ready to tap out at the last second in case you needed to. “Choke on my dick.” 

Your nose scrunched up against the neatly trimmed pubes as you gagged hard and you quickly tapped his thigh. Bakugo didn’t release your hair, instead, he tugged your head backwards so you would get him out of your mouth quickly. Your lips were red and swollen, covered in your own spit and as well as his precum, parted as you panted for air. Two tears rolled down both of your cheeks as you looked up at the man standing in front of you. 

“Good girl,” he sadistically grunted through his gritted teeth. “You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t ya?” 

You closed your eyes as he gently, almost affectionately, slapped your cheek a few times. 

“Open,” was all he said as he pushed two fingers into your mouth, reaching so far into your throat it made you gag again. 

You grabbed the butt of the cigarette with your hand that wasn’t down your pants and leaned over to your coffee table to put it out against the glass. Leaving the butt there, you reclined against the couch once again, moving your finger from your clit back to your entrance, adding a second one to cover them both in your wetness and pushing them inside of you, immediately targeting your g-spot. 

“Don’t stop.” 

Bakugo’s hand on your hip helped with guiding your movements, effectively pushing you up and down on his cock as you rode him. You were so close to him your nipples were rubbing against his chest with every motion and you were practically breathing each��other’s air. The tip of him was deep inside of you and rubbed against your g-spot each time you moved. Your arms were resting on his shoulders. One hand was leaning your weight against his trapezius and the other one against the god-awfully expensive leather sofa of his which you were probably staining now. 

“Fuck,” he groaned so quietly you were only able to hear him thanks to the proximity. “You’re mine, do you understand?” His other hand, which wasn’t holding your hip but was snaked around your waist and pushing in between your shoulder blades so that you would be close to him, moved upwards and firmly, but not forcefully, squeezed the back of your neck. The gesture only made you feel that much closer to him. You nodded your head as fast as you could, but that was not enough of an answer for him. 

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” 

There was a certain desperation in his voice. Desperation that you heard for the first time with him. 

“I’m yours.” 

The words silently left your lips with a puff of air following suit. Bakugo wasted no time and kissed your lips passionately, seemingly putting all his feelings into it. 

But you knew better. 

“Say it again.” 

“I’m yours.” 

The buzz of your phone vibrating in your bag next to the sofa disrupted you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You let out an angry grunt. 

You debated not picking it up and calling whoever it was that interrupted you later, but decided against it when you felt a considerable amount of guilt in your throat. What if it was important? 

You quickly pulled your hand out of your trousers and wiped your wet fingers on your blouse, leaving shiny, sticky splotches behind. Fumbling with the bag a little, you managed to find your phone just in time, not even looking at the caller ID as you swiped your finger against the screen and put it against your ear. 

“Hey.” 

Your body froze a little at the sound of the unusually cheery voice on the other end. He must have had a pretty good day, judging by his tone. 

“Uh, hi.” 

“Ya busy?” 

You straightened on the sofa and tried to clear your throat as discreetly as possible. 

“No, I was just cooking, sorry.” Lie. 

“Cool. Listen, we haven’t seen each other for a while so I wanted to call ya.” 

“That’s nice of you.” Bare. Fucking. Minimum. 

“Yeah. I can’t really talk now, I’m ‘bout to go grab a few beers with my mates. I’ll call ya later, so we can talk properly, yeah?” 

“Oh, sure.” You turned your head to look at the clock on the wall in your kitchen. It was already nearing eight o’clock, just how late did he mean to call? 

“Alright. I’ll talk to ya later.” 

He ended the call sooner than you could say goodbye. 

Your hand that was holding the phone to your ear fell limply against the couch with the device still between your fingers. You didn’t know if his call made you feel happy or even more pathetic. 

It was good that he called you, right? He obviously wanted to check up on you. And also promised to call you again later. 

So why were you feeling like this? Where did this feeling come from? 

You gulped the saliva that gathered between your teeth and the flesh of your cheek, accidentally swallowing a bit of air as well. 

No, you thought to yourself. He was trying. That was good enough for you. For now. 

You raised your hand with your phone again and unlocked it, opening a food delivery app. You debated between classic pizza and maybe something healthier, but your finger ultimately landed on the pizza picture on your screen, successfully tapping it into the cart. You chose the address for delivery and type of payment and locked your phone.  

Releasing a deep breath, you stood up and with your phone still in your hand walked the few steps to your bed. The pizza was supposed to be delivered in 30-60 minutes. Might as well masturbate properly with your vibrator in the meantime. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

After giving yourself two orgasms, eating the entire pizza and drinking several shots of soju, you fell asleep on your sofa just a few minutes after midnight. Bakugo didn’t call. 

»»————-　　————-««

It was several days later that you heard from him again. This time, he didn’t even bother with calling you; he decided that two texts would suffice. 

hey, sorry for not calling you the other day, i got wasted 

you wanna see each other sometime again? ;) 

‘That’s not a proper apology. Send him to hell.’ your friend replied when you sent them a screenshot of said messages. 

You were sitting behind the desk you were assigned at work, your hands idly resting on the keyboard of your computer, but your eyes were glued to your phone that lay locked next to your cup of coffee. You should send him a reply. 

“Do you have a minute?” 

You jerked in your seat involuntarily, the sudden proximity of the voice effectively scaring you. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face, when you realised you were caught slacking off. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied to your boss, not exactly enthusiastically. 

“Great.” He gave you a fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes and quickly left his lips and tapped the side of your cubicle a few times before he turned around and started walking towards his office, obviously expecting you to follow. 

You cleared your throat and got up from your seat, tugged your pencil skirt down a little and followed him as quickly as you could in the garment that was sexy and elegant, but also restrictive. 

You closed the door once you stepped into the personal office that was separated by glass walls from the rest of the cubicles where you and your colleagues worked. 

“Sit down.” Your boss moved his hand in the general direction of the seat that was positioned in front of his desk. 

The table was made of a grey and white particle board, as well as all the desks you and others worked on. The carpet in his office was originally the same shade of dark blue as the rest of the entire floor, but was less walked on and therefore managed to retain its colour better than the carpet in the rest of the space. 

The window behind his back that you were facing and that he liked to stare out of so often was as bleak as it always is this time of the year. The strange shift between autumn and winter when the weather gets even colder and the days even shorter, when you usually reach for your second-hand wool coat before leaving your apartment. 

“We need to talk.” 

You were fucked. 

»»————-　　————-««

Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you held the phone in your hand. 

When are you free? We need to talk. 

A small part of you wished Bakugo cared about you enough to actually get stressed after reading your message. But the more rational part of you knew that that wasn’t the case. The pro-hero with a super-inflated ego wouldn’t get anxious due to a mildly threatening message from an average journalist who had had his balls in her mouth not so long ago. 

Unemployed journalist. 

You debated calling your mother but ultimately decided against it. You weren’t in the headspace to deal with that kind of phone call. 

You also considered calling your friend. 

You didn’t, though. 

You knew they would pity you. You didn’t want people to pity you. You just needed somebody to listen. And maybe a hug. But none of the people you were in contact with or that were in your life would ever just listen. 

So you were left all alone with all these feelings that felt just too heavy on your chest. A lead that made it hard to breathe, a lead that your muscles had to actively fight against to fill your lungs with much-needed air. A lead that made you drag your feet against the pavement. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand. 

this thursday at 5pm, come to my apartment

You didn’t even open the message to properly read it, your eyes just skimmed over the message in the notification on your lock screen before you stuffed the electronic device in your bag once again. 

Good, you thought for yourself. You had three days to somewhat get your shit together before visiting him. As much as you had feelings for a certain pro-hero, you were not about to let him see you like this. 

Especially not since you were determined to end whatever the weird situationship between the two of you was. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

You rested the back of your head against the cool mirror behind you. The extra thick layer of concealer underneath your eyes to hide the dark circles was slowly creasing even though you’d used enough powder to set it… you could almost feel it. 

The Visine in your eyes to make them appear whiter and not like you cried just this morning felt unnatural – too watery and a tiny bit stingy when you closed your eyes for long enough. 

Your thought process? Don’t let him see your weakness. Don’t look like you actually care about this ‘relationship’. Could you even call it that? Could you call this situationship a relationship when he kept you secret from the public and his friends as well? When all he ever wanted to do with you lately was to fuck you? 

The odd smell of the hairspray that you had used deliberately to keep your hair bouncy was almost palpable in the air, even though you used quite a lot of perfume. Those two smells as well as the lingering stench of a cigarette you smoked earlier combined were almost suffocating you, pressing down on your person, making you feel smaller and smaller. 

The supposedly calming music that was playing in the elevator was paradoxically making you even more nervous. 

The trousers you decided to wear that day made your ass look extra good, but cut into your stomach every time you sat down – a decision you, again, made on purpose. To get it over with quicker. You can’t even really sit down with these on. Plus, obviously, it wouldn’t be bad to remind him what he was going to lose, right? One last look at your ass was all you were going to grant him. 

Saying that you were uncomfortable was an understatement. 

You lost your job just a few days ago. It was clear to you you’d have to consider moving soon; the shitty apartment you lived in was cheap, but not cheap enough to keep while unemployed. And now, on top of your job and an apartment, you were about to lose him. 

Maybe it was a good thing, though. Even though he made you feel like you were on cloud nine in the beginning, showering you with affection and spending most of his free time with you, lately all you’d been getting from whatever was happening between you two was stress and anxiety. Self-doubt. More insecurities. 

Besides, were you really going to lose him? Could a person lose something they’ve never had in the first place? 

Your mind wandered on its own to your favourite memory with him. It was still quite fresh, you could remember it as if it had happened a few days ago, even though in reality it had been weeks. 

Your head resting on Bakugo’s thigh, the sound of the television and the feeling of his fingers playing with your hair inevitably lulling you to sleep. Your belly was comfortably full thanks to the amazing dinner Bakugo had cooked for you. 

“You’re sleepin’.” 

“Am not.” You replied, but you could hear it in your own voice, the tiredness and how you slightly slurred your words, your eyes still closed. His smell and proximity was just making you feel so, so safe.

A sigh left your lips as your hand moved on its own and started rummaging in the small purse that you’d brought with you. The fluorescent light in the elevator did nothing to flatter your appearance, quite the opposite, actually. You found the lip gloss you were wearing that day in the depths of your bag and reapplied it generously. You gave yourself another look in the mirror as you stuffed the small thing back into the bag. 

God, it looked like you’d tried too hard. 

Quickly, with only a few stories left, you tried to card your fingers through your hair to make them messier and ruin your appearance a little. Your hand flew to your lips to wipe off all the gloss you’d just put on as the door of the elevator opened to Bakugo’s floor. 

You hesitantly stepped inside of the apartment and took off your shoes, the elevator door closing behind you. Leaving your coat and scarf on the hanger that was situated in the dead end of the hallway, you then stepped in the other direction to actually get further into the flat. 

Your feet were quiet on the overpriced Persian runner rug, so you called his name to announce your arrival. 

“Hey.” 

You were looking directly at his back as you walked into the more open space and the centre of the floor. With his back to you and broad shoulders covered by a simple oversized black hoodie, he was standing right in front of a kitchen counter, probably mixing something judging by the sound of it. 

“Hi.”��You replied, your voice lacking the usual enthusiasm that laced it whenever you were with him. You put your purse on the couch in the living area and walked closer to where Bakugo was standing. 

“Hope you’re hungry.” He said without raising his head or really looking at you. 

When you came close enough, you were actually able to see what he was cooking – tamagoyaki. 

“Not really.” You’d kill for some tamagoyaki at that moment, to be honest. “I'm not planning on staying long, actually.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your weight against the kitchen counter, resting your hip against it. 

“Hm.” Was all he said. 

You watched as he poured another part of the egg mixture into the pan, helping it spread by tilting the metal and sort of pushing the liquid with chopsticks. 

Bakugo was an amazing chef. You’d asked him about it when you were eating curry rice during one of the occasions that you’d visited his flat and his response was a grunt and cookin’s not that hard. 

“You know why I’m here, right?” You asked. 

You hoped that he would say it first. Yer leavin’ me. You had prayed that he would say it, make it easier for you. Spare you from having to force air over your vocal cords and formulate the sounds with your tongue and lips. 

He didn’t. 

The silence stretched on as he seemingly minded his business, rolling the tamagoyaki into a perfect little roll and adding more egg mixture. 

“I can’t…” You started but cut yourself off. You gave it another thought before you started again. “This has to end.” 

Bakugo didn’t move a single muscle to indicate any sort of reaction he might’ve had. You watched him finally move as he took two bowls out of his kitchen cabinet and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen aisle. 

“Siddown, food’s almost ready.” 

He started filling the bowls with steaming rice straight from the rice cooker while the egg was frying on the pan. 

“I said I’m not hungry. I’m not here to eat.” 

“And I didn’ ask.” 

“Stop treating me like a child.” Anger was gathering in the pit of your stomach, twisting it more than it already was. 

“Then stop actin’ like one.” 

A moment of silence. 

You were speechless. 

A lump formed in your throat, successfully gagging you and preventing you from defending yourself. You could feel them, the tears forming in your eyes, threatening to fall over your lower lash line and roll down your cheeks. 

“Please, siddown so ya can eat your food.” 

You swallowed around the tightness in your throat and just nodded your head, not trusting your voice to keep steady. Without another word, you walked around the kitchen aisle and sat down on one of the tall bar stools, resting your forearms on the cold granite countertop. The stone was cold enough to sting your already cold skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. 

After not even two minutes the meal appeared in front of you – a bowl of rice, another bowl of miso soup with tofu, a plate filled with cut tamagoyaki and a small bowl of steamed spinach with garlic. 

“Eat up,” Bakugo said as he put his own bowls and plate on the countertop, sitting next to you. 

The food was warm, filling your tummy with a nice feeling. 

“It’s delicious.” You complimented after a few careful bites. You meant it. 

“It’s alright.” 

Ever the critic. Even when it comes to himself. 

The two of you were eating in silence, only the sounds of chewing and slurping filling the air. 

Bakugo raised his eyes from his meal when he noticed your reluctance to continue eating about halfway through the meal. 

“Why aren’ ya eatin’?” 

You could hear the disapproval in his voice. Not worry, not even concern. Just disapproval. 

“Uhm,” you started, but couldn’t finish your sentence. 

The godforsaken jeans you’d decided to wear were digging into your stomach painfully, to a point where a sharp pain was shooting up your chest. And you filling your belly more wasn’t helping it. 

“D’ya not like it?” 

“No! No, that’s not it.” You moved a piece of the omelette with your chopsticks around on the plate. “It really is delicious.” 

Hmph. 

You chewed on your lower lip. Bakugo was obviously unhappy with your answer. He was still staring you down. 

“I’m wearing my standing jeans.” You admitted after a few seconds. 

“Standin’ jeans.” He repeated, obviously not understanding the term. 

“Yeah. Standing jeans. Jeans that look great when you stand up, but you can't really sit down in them because they’re too tight.” 

Your laughable reason was met with silence, he was obviously letting you stew in the ridiculousness of it all. 

“They’re too tight when I sit down, they dig into my stomach.” 

Bakugo blinked at you once before he rolled his eyes and without a word got up and left the kitchen, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. 

You heard some sounds coming from the other side of the flat before he reappeared with grey sweatpants in his hand, handing them to you. 

“Change.” 

“I’m not going to change into your sweatpants.” You protested, looking at the fabric in his extended hand. “I didn’t even want to stay here. Nor eat your food. Can we just get this over with?” 

You were this close to begging him. This close. Begging him to say the final words, those ones you had no guts to really say. Even though they were long overdue. 

“Ya look like shit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ya heard me. Ya look like a’mess. Change'nto those damn sweatpants and finish your food.” 

You looked from his face to the sweatpants he was still holding out for you. Reluctantly, you took them and stood up, immediately feeling the relief in your midsection. You walked back into the hallway where you came from and disappeared in the door on the left – Bakugo’s bathroom. 

You peeked a look at yourself in the mirror immediately after closing the door behind you. He was right. You looked like shit. The concealer was cakey under your eyes; the foundation was sitting on your skin almost unnaturally, making you look like you were wearing some sort of a mask. The mascara formed spider legs on your lower lash line – where some stray tears had gathered. The Visine you had used obviously wasn’t working.

You could just leave the apartment. Just leave and not look back. Obviously, he would get the hint, right? 

Leave and not say a word. Save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation, the uncomfortable feelings that would inevitably bubble up your chest and settle in your throat. 

You sighed and put some liquid hand soap in your palm, turning on the water with your other hand. Smearing the soap across your face, you rubbed hard enough to get the mask off your face, so you could feel the inevitable tears on your skin without any barrier between the two. The soap was slightly stinging as it got into your eyes, but it didn’t stop you from rubbing your face with your nails until your skin was all red and the makeup was now underneath your fingernails. 

It didn’t matter if you wore your mask or not. Not anymore. He had seen right through it. Might as well bare yourself to him. 

Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you saw the black streaks of mascara all over your face, which made you dunk your face into the watery, soapy concoction for longer, until it was running down your forearms and to your elbows, dripping down onto the grey rug on the floor. It didn’t bother you at this point. 

You only opened your eyes again when you ran out of breath, now looking at beet-red skin with two bloodshot eyes that were staring back at you in the mirror. 

That would do for now. 

Opening the drawer underneath the bathroom sink, you knew exactly where to look to find the hair accessories Bakugo kept for all his hookups. Grabbing the ones you needed, you pinned your slightly damp hair out of your face. Stripping off your standing jeans, you folded them neatly into a nice square before you put on the grey sweatpants that were ill-fitting on you. 

It didn’t matter now. 

Didn’t matter what you looked like. 

You sniffled a little and opened the door, emerging into the hallway and letting only the slight taps of your feet announce your entry to the kitchen. 

Bakugo looked up from his meal, unphased, and nodded his head to himself. 

“Thanks for the sweats.” You put your jeans on the counter to your right, where there was empty space. 

“No problem.” 

That was actually kind of nice of him. 

Your brain whined in your head. 

He wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Not now. Not when you needed a final push to end this. Like a coward. 

“Is al’this just ‘cause of me, or did somethin’ else happen?” 

You stayed silent for a while, instead putting in your mouth a spoonful of miso soup with a piece of tofu. 

Should you be honest with him, or lie? 

…It didn’t matter anymore, did it? 

“I got fired.” 

You stuffed your face with the fried egg. 

It was really nice to eat a warm meal after some time. Only now that you were wearing his sweatpants and your entire stomach wasn’t hurting from those damn jeans did you realise how much you actually relished the feeling of warmth filling you up. 

“Sorry t’hear that.” 

All you replied was a low hum from the back of your throat, continuing to fill the dark, empty space inside of you with the home-cooked meal. 

“Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” He asked after a minute. 

You could see in your peripheral that he was looking at you now, pausing his eating. 

“Not really.” 

After that, the two of you finished eating in silence. Once you accepted that Bakugo knew you weren’t alright, the silence actually turned comfortable. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking things over while the two of you were eating. Was this really the last time you’d ever see him? He deserved to get dumped for how badly he had treated you, right? 

Maybe he had his reasons. Maybe something in his life happened the same way you got fired just recently? 

You shook your head from side to side discreetly as you swallowed down another mouthful. It was too late. You came here for a reason, and that reason was exactly what you were mulling over now. 

Don’t be a fucking coward. 

It was the right thing to do. 

Bakugo treated you as disposable. If that was what you were to him, there was no reason for you to stay. 

Were you ready to prove to yourself that you truly were disposable to him, though? 

You realised you had been staring at now empty plates and bowls in front of you only when Bakugo’s hand appeared in the picture to collect the dishes. 

“Thank you for the food, it was really nice.” 

“Hm.” 

You stayed seated at the kitchen island as you watched him neatly put the bowls and plates into the dishwasher. It was obvious that he followed a certain system. You didn’t even consider getting up and offering any help. You knew him well enough to know that he would scold you and tell you to sit down again. 

Your eyes drifted over his body while he was bending down to put the porcelain away. The way his back muscles moved underneath the fabric, the way the dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck brushed against the skin. 

You could almost feel it. Feel his muscles move under your fingers, taste his skin on the tip of your tongue. 

Your eyes followed his movement as he finally turned around once he was done, resting his backside against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes met and your look didn’t falter. It didn’t. 

“So ya wanna break up?” 

You let him win and looked down at your lap. All you saw was the grey fabric that belonged to him. 

“Is it really a break-up if we haven’t even properly dated?” You dared to raise your eyes again. 

“Fair enough.” 

It was him now that looked down. You won this round. 

You were sitting on the bar stool in silence while he was just standing there, in the kitchen, the kitchen island creating sort of a safe barrier between you two. Your fingers were fidgeting in your lap, trying to make your mind focus on anything else than what was really going on in your head. 

Don’t say it. 

Don’t. 

“What happened?” 

You winced. You said it. 

“Whaddya mean?” 

This was a mistake. 

You abruptly got up and grabbed your jeans from the countertop. You were leaving in his sweatpants. You’ll send them back to him sometime later. 

“Wait.” 

You could hear his hurried footsteps following you to the living room area where you collected your purse from the couch. 

“Wait, god dammit,” he grabbed your arm and spun you around so you could face him. “What didya mean by that?” 

You were staring at the neckline of his hoodie, tears smudging your vision. There was not enough of them to roll over the notional barrier, but enough of them for you to fear that they would. 

“What didya mean by that?” He repeated the question. Now that he was so close to you, his voice got much softer. Much quieter. 

That along with the smell of his cologne and deodorant made you realise just how much you’d missed him. The emotion filled your body with a strange feeling of sorrow and grief. 

His hand left your arm and you craved for his touch to return. 

“What happened?” Your voice sounded broken. It felt like it was another person talking rather than you, you couldn’t recognise it. “It was so nice at the start.” 

You dared to look up at him, which turned out to be a mistake. The movement sent the drops of salty water over the edge of your waterline. You felt them rolling down your cheeks to your chin where they connected into one and dripped down. 

Bakugo’s vermillion eyes followed the movement of the liquid on your face. He almost looked guilty. 

“I don’ know whaddya want me t’say.” 

“The truth.” 

He looked away from you for a few seconds while he put his hands in his pockets. It was clear he was debating it. Whether or not he should really be honest with you. 

“You owe me that much.” You encouraged him to talk even though you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to be anywhere else with anybody else than in his apartment with him. Maybe you were a masochist. 

“I used ya.” 

Fresh tears started streaming down your face as soon as his words registered in your brain. His saying it out loud made it all too real. If he hadn’t admitted it, you could still pretend it was something else. You could pretend and make yourself feel better about it. When he admitted it you lost the possibility and comfort of gaslighting yourself into thinking he had a good reason. 

He had enough sense to look at the floor almost shamefully when he carried on. 

“I had a lottov things goin’ on ada time. Ya distracted me from it.” 

You blinked harshly to force the water from your eyes out. The gentle gasp for air left your lips even though you tried to fight it, to conceal it from him. 

“’M sorry. I thought I could give ya more, ‘cause you’re really nice.” 

“Yeah, well… really nice doesn’t seem to cut it, does it?”  

You both stood there in silence for a few more beats before you felt his hand on your cheek, his thumb smearing the tear away from underneath your eye. 

“Don’t.” 

It was a quiet plea, a quiet plea that sounded too much like a whimper, leaving your lips parted after rolling off them. 

“I meant what I said.” He pulled his hand away from your cheek, moving it to the other and wiping your tears there as well with the upper side of his index finger. “Ya are nice.” 

“Whatever.” You removed your face from his touch, eyes glued to the floor. 

“Spend the night.” 

Was it an order, or a request? You didn’t know, but the sentence froze your feet to the floor before you could turn and make your exit. 

“What?” 

“Listen, listen. No funny business. Just, spend the night. Ya can sleep inda guest room.” He added the last sentence almost as an afterthought. 

Your eyebrows were furrowed above your eyes that were moving from right to left, going from one red eye to the other, trying to gauge the sincerity of his statement. 

“Spend the night.” He repeated once more, his voice just barely above a whisper. 

Your mind was screaming at you to get the hell out of that apartment, but you felt yourself nod. 

A masochist. 

“Yeah?” He was making sure. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, not even looking him in the eye. The lump in your throat was making you feel like you could choke on it and you already felt bad for betraying yourself like this and agreeing to his outrageous request. You couldn’t bear the way he was definitely looking at you on top of all of that. 

Bakugo gently put his hand on your shoulder and guided you back into the heart of his apartment. 

“D’ya wanna watch some movie?” He led you to the couch so you sat down on it without any protest. 

“Sure.” 

He sat down next to you, not really close, but not far away from you either, turning the TV on and switching to the streaming service on it immediately. 

You kept biting the inside of your cheek and looking everywhere else than at the TV or him. Hearing the opening of a movie, you raised your eyes to the big screen mounted on the wall. Your throat went dry as soon as you realised what was playing. 

“No, something else.” You demanded quickly. “I wanna watch something new.” 

Bakugo looked at you for a few seconds and then nodded his head, taking the TV remote in his hand once again and switching the movie to a different one. 

The movie that he initially pressed play on was a movie you talked about with him. You could still remember how you gushed about it, mentioning how it was your favourite movie growing up and saying the words we should watch it together sometime. Of course, that 'sometime' never really came. So, now you wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him taint your movie. This was yours. He had no right to claim this thing as well. 

You wouldn’t let him have this because that would mean that at some point he actually listened to you. It would mean that at some point he might’ve tried if he cared enough.  

The sound of a different movie playing commanded your attention then and so you tried to tune in as much as possible. Just from the music, you could tell that it was an action movie. 

“Real’ like this one.” 

You wished he didn’t say those words. 

»»————-　　————-««

You were probably in the middle of the movie and lucky for you, you were already able to say that you hated it. Loud explosions, ridiculous situations, plot with holes. Surprisingly, Bakugo liked a Hollywood action movie with too big of a budget. 

Your eyes drifted from the TV screen to the window. Living this high up definitely had its perks. The view being one of the main ones. You remembered how naïve you had been when this situationship started. How you had thought maybe if this goes well, I’ll be looking at the same view every morning. 

“Ya don’t like it?” 

Ever the observant. 

You turned your head to the other side, looking at Bakugo who was looking right back at you. You bit your lip and shrugged your shoulders. 

“It’s fine.” 

You didn’t want to be mean but you also didn’t want to lie about liking it. 

“Fine?” 

Wrong answer, apparently. 

“I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for an action movie.” You tried to calm him down a little. Lying it was then. 

“Shoulda told me that hour and a'half ago. Dammit.” 

You watched him as he grabbed the remote and exited the movie. 

“What are ya inda mood for, then?” 

You watched his profile illuminated by the light from the TV screen for a few seconds. He was so beautiful it almost pained you. The constantly furrowed brows you almost couldn’t see because of his hair covering his entire forehead, his perfect nose, the shape of his lips. His skin without blemishes, apart from a few small scars, even though he didn’t really have a skincare routine. 

You remembered how you imagined what your possible babies would look like. They’d be perfect. 

“So?” He asked impatiently when you hadn’t answered immediately. 

His eyes met yours when you decided what to do. 

Moving closer to him, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as you remembered. He still tasted the same. It was Bakugo who leaned back, looking at you. Making sure you knew what you were doing. You leaned in more, kissing him again. Gently, almost tenderly. What if this was the last time you ever got to taste him? You relished the feeling, trying to commit to your memory as much as you could. His taste, his smell, the way his lips felt against you. The kiss got interrupted when he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“Are ya sure ya can handle it?”

You knew what he meant. Are you sure you can handle that, emotionally? Are you sure it won’t ruin you even more?  You couldn't help yourself. Bakugo was like a scab you couldn't stop picking at. An open wound that just wouldn't heal. He was your weak spot.

“No.” You said with your voice all breathy, kissing him once again, this time more passionately. Bakugo reciprocated without missing a beat, one of his hands grabbing the side of your face and the other one going straight to your waist. Not even a few seconds in, you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling him without breaking the kiss. 

You were eager. 

And Bakugo was just as eager as you. 

Part of your brain hated this. Hated how good his touch felt, hated how familiar all of this was. How safe you felt right in that moment and just how vulnerable and exposed it was all at the same time. You felt weak. 

Bakugo’s hand that was on your waist moved to your hip and gripped it tightly, pushing you back and forth, guiding your movements so you would grind against him. There was impatience in the movements from both of you. You knew where it was coming from on your end but the implications of it coming from him made your heart drop in your chest. 

“Need you.” You half whined against his lips before you quickly stood up and took off the sweatpants he had lent you. Bakugo followed suit – he took off his trousers hastily and welcomed you back in his lap with open arms, immediately grabbing at your flesh and squeezing what he could. 

“Couldn’t leave ‘thout one last fuck, could ya?” He growled against your skin when he moved his lips to your neck and started kissing and nibbling it. 

You let out a quiet moan and grabbed his growing bulge through his boxers, the thin fabric the only thing separating you from him. He was almost fully hard already, huffing against your neck as you stroked him. 

“Fuck, okay, lemme go grab a condom.” The hero parted from your neck momentarily and was about to get you off of him and get up when you stopped him. 

“No!” 

You surprised yourself with how quickly you objected to that. Bakugo stopped himself and gave you a look. 

“No,” you said calmer this time. “I wanna feel you.” 

You deserved it. You deserved this. You deserved at least one good thing in your life. And he would be the one to give it to you. You didn't need his love or affection. All you needed was a piece of him.

You pushed his underwear down just enough so his balls and dick, now fully hard, were free and stroked it, eliciting an almost painfully sounding groan from the man. 

“I wanna feel you tonight.” You repeated, pushing your own panties to the side and lining him up with your entrance. 

You definitely needed more prep than this, you knew that it would be an uncomfortable stretch and that you weren’t wet nearly enough to help with it, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 

You groaned from the slight sting, it was a bit worse than you expected it to be. 

“Shit, easy.” Bakugo put his hand on your hip to slow you down a bit. “No need’da hurry. We got all night, princess.” 

»»————-　　————-«« 

You sat on the bathroom floor in your mother’s flat, having to temporarily move in with her due to your unemployment. The phone you kept pressed against your ear kept ringing and ringing. To be honest, you were expecting it to go straight to a voicemail right away. 

“Yeah?” He picked it up probably at the last possible ring. 

“Hey.” You greeted him. “Listen, could we talk?” You bit your lip as you looked at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. 

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #pro hero bakugou #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bakugo katsuki angst #tw: baby trapping #ves writes

[freimeka]

am i the only one who's about to explode by thinking of a bodyguard ghost??? like he's... extremely on another level please help me !! i actually hate this and might delete this pls forgive any mistakes ans typos it's 3am . i feel like i forgot some tws and tags but oh well idc

★ obv bodyguard!ghost + pwp + just unholy thoughts + descriptions of masturbating + very brief mention of idk just a heated argument + ghost is kinda voyeur here

You have no idea how the two of you ended up like this. You clearly remember that you were screaming at Ghost's face. The reason was something completely dumb...like, he probably insulted one of your friends and you just exploded. You've been feeling on the edge because of him for the last week now—you cannot even count the times that your hand, completely out of your control, has traveled down on your body once you were alone to touch yourself.

As you think of him.

That fucker.

Ghost can easily get under your skin without even trying, it's like a love-hate relationship. You've known him for many long years—he has always been right there, next to you whenever you turn your head around to see him. He's protected you, spoiled you maybe even more than your parents did. Well, there have also been countless times that he annoyed you so much that you just wanted to slap him across his face but you just let them pass. You're used to Ghost, and he's used to you.

You should be mad at him now, your body should be on fire just by how angry you're at him but... your hand keeps traveling down on your body. You get comfortable on your bed, letting your body meet with the soft mattress as your legs immediately spread apart as if on autopilot mode. One of your hands easily travels underneath your shirt to touch your perked nipples, your fingertips pinching them just to feel a bit more. Your other hand slips past your soaked panties, and you realize that you're embarrassingly wet—with every move of your fingers you can hear a slick sound that's faint, yet loud enough to echo in your empty room.

You throw your head back when your trembling fingers start to rub circles against your clit, gathering the wetness and spreading it all over to make it easier for you to move your fingers in circles. Your eyes are shut, and you feel yourself taking short and erratic breaths as your fingers keep rubbing circles. No matter how you do or what you do, the mere idea of being stretched by Ghost's cock just doesn't leave your mind. Your fingers don't feel thick enough, they don't reach the parts that you want them to reach—and that's getting frustrating. You're usually so careful about being quiet in order not to get caught, but the feeling is overwhelming; you think that you might cry. That's why a soft, yet a bit louder than ever whine falls from your lips. You don't think that it's dangerous because everyone except Ghost is outside, your parents work long hours and that's why Ghost has become a babysitter as well as a bodyguard—that's what he says, but you know that he's trying to annoy you.

Since you two have argued like fifteen minutes ago, and his mad and hoarse voice somehow made you wet, Ghost must be outside on the balcony. He's probably smoking.

Right?

You feel your bed being crushed down under someone else's weight, and you want to open your eyes but the scent is all too familiar. And you feel like you're about to explode from embarrassment. Ghost rests his hands on your bare thighs, his fingers grazing the soft skin with such gentleness that you struggle to hold back a whimper. It's a small touch— it's obvious that he's testing the waters first.

"You're making it hard to be around you," you hear him whispering, his voice is dangerously low. You finally decide to open your eyes, to see him without his damn mask and he's already looking up at you. However, he breaks the eye contact as soon as you look back at him—he's now looking at your thighs, his lips touch your inner thigh as he speaks. "But you're also making it hard not to be around you."

You can't believe he's admitting it.

"Please—Ghost, I—," you barely whisper, your voice is shaky as your fingertips burn to feel Ghost's soft hair. "I'm... I just," it's impossible for you to explain yourself, but then again you don't have to do it since everything's pretty clear. Ghost is breathing so heavily against the skin of your inner thigh, and he's not done—for fuck's sakez he's not even started yet. Ghost's hands skillfully reach down to your sides, and he drags you against him to make you feel just how much he wants you. You hear the sounds of fabric as your body is pulled down on the bed, you're almost at the edge of the bed now while Ghost is kneeling down in front of you. He doesn't speak for a while, and you feel yourself get even more stressed. It's obvious that he has no problems with what you've been doing, but damn it, say something.

"You're perfect," he hisses, he sounds almost out of breath as he whispers against your skin. You feel him pulling your panties up, letting the already soaked fabric cover your wet pussy again. "You're so perfect."

And that's probably all you need to hear, you're way too gone, too overwhelmed to care about the consequences. You can worry about them later, but you know that this is mutual, and he wants you as much as you want him. He kisses you, it's a gentle peck on the lips first. But then, he gets harder and harder, pushing you back against the bed and holding onto your hips tighter— and you realize that he's making you think about only how badly you want him inside you. The way his big, calloused hands are touching your bare thighs, the way his kisses are getting more and more intense... He's getting you to feel hot enough to make you melt in his presence.

"I was waiting for the fun part to come," he breathes out, "But you take damn too long."

There's a moment of silence.

"I can help you with that."

You make a sound like a whine, like a soft cry of pleasure—all of those anxious thoughts that say you've embarrassed yourself are gone in a minute. Your body aches, you can feel your heartbeat getting faster just by the thought of Ghost finally filling you up to the brim.

He leans in, his broad shoulders are enough to make you disappear under his body as he presses his lips against yours desperately. There's something almost feral in the way he kisses you, as if he's even more impatient than you are. As if he's been waiting for this to happen for a long time.

Ghost's breath grows more and more desperate as the two of you kiss; his tongue licking into your mouth as your teeth bite into his bottom lip, your bodies are pressed against each other as much as they can. The feeling of him rubbing circles against your clit through the fabric of your panties drives you crazy and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs. You need to feel him, somehow; it doesn't matter if he pushes his fingers or decides that he can pound into you, you just need him. Not through the damn panties, you need to get rid of them.

He's kissing you fiercely now, his tongue tasting your lips and then sliding inside your mouth greedily. His hands are working on your trembling body, touching your pussy through the fabric; you feel like crying, he should take it off.

"This feels so good," Ghost says, his voice is deep and it feels like he's speaking in your head. "Doesn't it? Don't you think that I can do a better job of filling up that cunt?" Ghost asks, and you know that he's taunting you—but you can't stay under that now, can you?

"Take them off," you breathlessly whimper, it's something like both a beg and a demand—Ghost can take whatever suits him. "Please, just take them off."

Ghost lets out a groan, and it's clear that hearing what you just ask him to do is driving him insane. If he was desperate to kiss you before, he's desperate to make you bury your face into the damn pillow and pound into you until your pussy remembers the shape of his dick.

"You're so wet," he chuckles deep in his throat, staring down at you for a moment as if he's trying to gather himself before he gives you what you want.

"I should keep your panties with me, you know," he lets out a deep sigh as his fingers hook around your panties and pull them down slowly but surely. As he keeps talking to you, his voice lowers. "You're not the only desperate one here."

He finally pushes a finger in, letting your walls stretch slightly to the feeling of his thick index finger—but you still feel like that's not thick enough. You're greedy when it comes to him. Your moans turn into whines as he adds the second, and the thirs finger without any prior warning. He's moving his hand quite fast now, causing your legs to tremble as your fingers wrap around his thick biceps—all you can do is cry out, whines and whimpers and string of curses fall from your lips as Ghost toys with you. Your body tenses up when his hand starts to move a bit faster, his fingers curling inside you until he finds a spot that will have you begging for more. He succeeds, and it causes your walls to get tighter around his fingers.

"Do that again for me," he mumbles against your mouth, breathlessly. "Do that again for me when I'm inside you, baby."

"It would be such a disgrace if I never tried to make you feel good," he whispers. His breath is hot against your neck. "But look at you... what happened to that fierce girl? All I'm seeing is an obedient little girl, my sweet girl, who's already getting dumb without being filled up properly."

"Oh, I hate you," you reply, your voice is low and filled with desperation as you wet your lips with your tongue. The more Ghost makes you wait, the more you feel like crying.

"Of course, you do," he replies, his voice is full of sarcasm. "That's why you're dying to get your pussy filled by me, correct? You're lucky that you're not the only one who does this," as Ghost speaks, you feel him moving around—and soon after the sound of his belt coming undone is heard. He doesn't even bother to get rid of his clothes properly, he just pushes his trousers down before he pushes your shirt above just a bit to indicate that he wants you to take it off.

Who are you to say no?

Your trembling fingers grab the hem of your t-shirt and you take it off with one swift motion, letting the piece of clothing fall to the floor.

You're way beyond gone at this point, your mind is empty, so no words come out from your mouth. You feel Ghost pulling you closer to himself on the bed. He's resting his knees on the edge of the bed as leverage while holding you by your thighs and making you spread your legs as much as you can. He's always wanted to touch you, fill you up, and the way you're looking at him through your heavy-lidded eyes is making it even harder for him to resist you.

"You know," he murmurs, "I would imagine us all over the place— my room, the backseat of cars or a damn parking lot, some closet, bending you over any surface that I find as soon as we step back in the house." His voice is thick with lust, it's like he's ready to devour you, consume you until there's nothing left of you. "I imagined you in my lap, your legs open for me, and..."

Ghost doesn't finish his sentence and instead, he finally gives you what you've been craving all along. He's big and thick, and the moment you feel the tip of his cock pushing inside you let out a soft yelp—Ghost is slow until he's fully in you, and just as you think that he'll give you some time to adjust to his size, he mercilessly thrusting. Sharp and powerful, almost abusing your cunt as his big hands spread your pussy even more just for his hungry gaze.

"I always felt like I was going to explode." You can hear him grunting, letting out low and deep sounds of pleasure as he mercilessly fucks into you. Your body moves up and down on the bed, putting on a show for Ghost that'll just drive him insane with how you look. He leans in, and his tongue licks hot stripes all over your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue flicks around it, his teeth gently and teasingly bite into it just to see your reaction. Every time you're slightly overwhelmed and sensitive, your walls clamp around his cock, making Ghost let out a string of curses as his grip on you tightens more and more.

He wraps his arms around your waist, gently rolling over to let you lie on top of him—his body presses into the mattress. You find yourself sitting on top of his body, his arms wrapped around you and his face in between your breasts. "Ride me," he whispers. "I wanna come inside you like this," and he's so, so cruel—how can he talk to you like that when he knows you're so, so, so sensitive. You whine, your arms tightly wrap around his neck as you start to do as you're told; but you're so close, so, so, so close that your movements become sloppier and messier.

"Can't," you gulp. "I can't, Ghost—," your words are breathless and low, your vision is blurry as you come all over his cock without even having the chance of letting him know. But that's Ghost, and Ghost knows you very well. He knows you better than you know yourself. "Yes, sweetheart," he whispers against your chest. "Go ahead, show me how you do it. I promise I'll make you feel even better than this."

#cod mw smut #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost riley #simon riley smut #ghost riley smut

[mercurygguk]

TEASER; if it’s not you | kth (m)

↳ summary; Kim Taehyung grew up watching his parents fall more in love for each day that passed and he always longed for that great, passionate love himself. But if it’s not you? Then he doesn’t want it.

POSTED !! read here

pairing; taehyung x f. reader

word count; tba.

rating; 18+

content; exes to lovers!au, smut/angst

warnings; will be stated in final post.

release date; nov 18th 2022, 10 PM CEST

chapters. part one | part two

↳ listen to the playlist here.

author’s note; took a break from jk fics and wrote a tae fic !! please let me know what you think of this lil sneak peek and make sure to reblog if you enjoy it as much as i hope you will 🫶🏼 happy reading! (ps. pls ignore all my typos if you see any)

will be posted next Friday! stay tuned and lmk if you wanna be tagged <3

Kim Taehyung is not sad.

Sadness is not what he feels when he goes out with his friends and spots two people all over each other, happy and in love. Sadness is not what he feels when he sits at home, watching a movie by himself. Sadness is not what he feels when his friends tell him they’re engaged and are having an engagement party to celebrate.

No, Kim Taehyung is way past sadness.

If anything, what he feels is most likely something more akin to a feeling called ‘I don’t care anymore’... a certain, unexplainable emptiness. He doesn’t care that everyone around him is falling in love and getting engaged, he doesn’t care if two strangers are all over each other when’s at a bar. He doesn’t care that all of his one-night-stands give him a nasty look when he tells them to leave in the middle of the night after having emotionless – I don’t care who you are or what your name is – sex with them.

Taehyung just doesn't care anymore. Or that’s what he thought, at least.

He thought that he wouldn’t give two shits when he saw you walk through the door, arriving at the engagement party his friends are currently throwing. He also thought that he wouldn’t care that some unknown guy was trailing right behind you, his hand tightly wrapped around yours.

But Taehyung should’ve known better.

He should’ve known his mind would play tricks on him and pull up flashbacks to the day he lost all belief in love.

Two years ago…

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. He begged you, the unsteady tone of his voice giving away that he was on the brink of breaking down if you didn’t connect your lips with his within the next few seconds. He was desperate, breathing heavily as he tried his best to keep the tears from welling in his eyes.

The last few weeks had been absolute hell. The apartment has been empty beyond measure, most of your stuff gone by now. You haven’t been in the apartment since the day you left and the only reason you were back tonight was because you forgot a few things and wanted them in your own, new apartment. Taehyung knew you’d come, you had texted him to let him know just so that you wouldn’t be barging in on him at a random hour. One thing he just didn’t realize when you texted him was how much he genuinely hated all of this before you stood in front of him with a small, sad-looking smile on your face.

How you ended up in the bedroom, cuddling and now almost kissing, was unbeknownst to him and you as well. Taehyung had been sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as you packed your remaining things in utter silence. When you were finished and wanted to give him one last goodbye hug, he had made the first move to urge you onto the bed with him. It’s not that he had bad intentions with it. He just needed to hold you one last time before you’d move on for good. Cuddles then turned into him pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist, begging and pleading for you to kiss him.

“Taehyung…” You softly let his name fall from your lips in a sigh as you looked down at him from your straddling position on top of him, “we shouldn’t-”

“Please, ____,” he tried again with pain laced in his words, sitting up with you still perched on his lap, “please, just kiss me.”

[end of flashback]

Two years since he last saw you and talked to you. Two years of losing every ounce of belief he had in ‘the great love’ of life. Why continue to look for love when he already had the love of his life and lost her?

In Taehyung’s head, there was no reason to look for love when the person he loved more than life itself left him with only half a heart to live by two years ago. Even if he wanted to find another great love, it simply wouldn’t be possible. He lives with only half of his heart and you can’t love a person with just half a heart.

Not when someone else has the other half.

#fic: iiny #teaser #taehyung #taehyung smut #bts #bts smut #taehyung angst #bts angst #angst #smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #bts x female reader #taehyung x female reader #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #bts v #kpop #bts exes to lovers au #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fluff

[lorkai]

Chapter I; Family

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: After literally a year I've finally finished writing the first chapter and the second is half-way done. But rereading this I realize I was being too demanding on myself, this chapter is fine. And despite the immense delay, I hope y'all like it as I do. I'll post it later on AO3 as well, the link to my profile is in my pinned post if you want to read it there btw. → Necromancer Au masterlist here.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Mc was written gender neutral but in the original idea Mc was a man. So uh if there's any typo about their pronoun pls let me know and I'II fix it, I proofread two times but sometimes something can escape me. Also Lilith's alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Word account: 3K

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Tagging: @dicetheroll @sunshinebea (It's been quite a while so I understand if you no longer want to get tagged in this.)

Traditions can be boring sometimes. But you absolutely adored the holiday tradition with your beloved demons, sitting in the living room before Christmas dinner and telling horror stories. Well, it wasn't just horror stories that were told on that day, there were jokes, challenges and various pranks going on, it was certainly your favorite day and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

Discreetly you watched the faces of each of them react to the tale of terror Lucifer was telling so intensely, clutching your cup of hot chocolate as you listened.

The fire in the fireplace lit his dark hair and his dark voice carried the same touch of drama even though he had already told several stories throughout the night, you watch as the older demon adjusts his glasses over his nose and takes a deep breath before continuing his unhappy tale. His grave words escape your ears as you can only thank whatever deity your path and theirs have crossed, because they were your family and they became very important people to you. You loved them and you knew they loved you too.

They were people you could no longer imagine living without. Each of them was special in their own way and they all brightened up your mornings, even if they were yelling or fighting as early as six o'clock sharp. You still managed to find joy even in the midst of your irritation through the chaos they created and dragged you into.

Beside him, Mammon lets out a loud scream and throws himself on top of the person closest to him for comfort. Everything happens in slow motion in your vision, he and Levi roll off the couch onto the floor and both struggle like fish out of water, completely in the middle of a senseless panic. The avatar of greed hugs his brother's torso with all the strength he has while the avatar of envy tries to flee. And a round of laughter spreads across the room like the hot fire that runs through their bodies and you try not to laugh so hard to spare them some dignity, but it's impossible once your gaze and Lilith's meet. And you burst into loud laughter as Satan helps them back to their feet.

"Grow up, Mammon." Asmo sneered in a cynical chuckle. His muffled voice was almost a whisper between the fabrics of the scarf he was wearing, and he burrowed deeper into the covers for a source of lingering warmth.

He resembled a kitten wrapped like that and Solomon seemed to have thought the same, pulling him closer and whispering something in his ear that made him laugh softly. They finally embraced again, Asmo resting his head lazily on the sorcerer's chest as the other man played with the demon's peach hair.

There's a certain simplicity to the gesture that almost makes you envious. Almost. You know you could throw yourself on top of both of them and snuggle into Solomon's chest too. It wouldn't be the first time after all

Belphie laughs at his older brother, hiding his laughter in his hands. The youngest of the brothers squirms in his seat and with the same malice as ever, places his cold foot on Mammon's bare ankles, which makes him jump once more and glare at him.

"Why did you do that?" Mammon, embarrassed and mumbling something under his breath, came to sit beside him again, so close that their knees were touching as Belphie laughed along with Satan. The avatar of greed sneaked a path to where your hand rested and wrapped it in his, warm, comfortable and your fingers fit together as if your hands were made for each other. You didn't say anything, sparing him embarrassment as you watched his reactions to the story Lucifer kept telling.

If anything, Mammon would rather work full time to make honest money than sit there and listen to one more tale of ghosts, goblins and fairies that makes him shudder all the time. But he didn't dare to oppose that tradition, not when it marked a really special period for each of them. The day you definitely went to live in Devildom with him and his brothers.

What was utterly ironic, however, was that at the end of the night he would most likely seek comfort in your room even though he knew that was precisely where the spirits he feared sought refuge.

You were a necromancer after all and everyone knew it.

"What, um... what happened next?" Luke asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. His heart clenched at the pessimistic thought that something might have happened to the fictional people in Lucifer's history.

Avalanche shadows and enraged mystical beasts were reflected between his blue eyes - few details you were paying close enough attention to remember, the youngest of the angels almost didn't want to think about the end of the story, but Simeon's hand on his shoulder gave him courage enough to keep still and wait.

  There was an expectant pause in which a smile graced the morning star's lips and he continued promptly after Barbatos poured him some more melancholy coffee. "To this day, they say that if there's a storm and you're walking around the mountain, you can see her spirit wandering aimlessly, looking for her children." Lucifer finished with a sigh, running his fingers through his messy hair, and then ran his eyes over the faces of each of his brothers and their guests.

He seemed satisfied with the collective shock that spread and then looked at you, searching for some surprised expression on your face or something, only his pride kept him from pouting when he realized he wouldn't have any of your expressions.

Stories like that didn't scare you for a long time, precisely because you've been dealing with situations like that since you were just a child. Still, the impact hit you hard when you processed all the information, not because it was scary, but because it was sad to imagine a woman who died during an avalanche and left her children helpless behind, on the verge of certain death that would befall them in the absence of her protection. It was just sad and yet, real. Just like so many ghosts who came to you begging to help their children, to tell you they were dead, or to offer solace.

If someone asked you how you see death, you knew exactly how you would answer. Melancholic and real. Things you loved during your life, things you were proud of, and all your deeds would be forgotten, buried in an endless round of study and work, of pain and hardship, of arrogance and greed, regardless of whether they were a good person or not. But it was also scary and cold, and bad for those who couldn't move on.

Whispers of approval at the story ran between the brothers. Lucifer was, much to Satan's displeasure, a very good storyteller. He confided in you once about how he tucked his brothers and sister into bed and told seven different stories every night when he was just a young archangel. In your mind a cute image popped up whenever you remembered that; just a young looking Lucifer putting little kids in their beds, tucking them in, kissing their foreheads and reading silly stories. It was hard to imagine him doing such trivial things when he was always so serious and austere all the time.

At least, you thought, after all the years that had passed he started acting more carefree like he used to be, according to what Mammon told you.

Five long years have passed quickly since you first came to Devildom as a mere exchange student, and in just a few days it would be six years. You still marveled at that fact on Christmas nights, mainly because everything was so different and surreal. You never imagined that talking to Lilith that day would take you so far away from human things and show you something unique, but here you are, happy, complete and feeling accepted among them. Thing humans would never do because they don't accept different people and you know it.

You remember all too well what happened when your so-called best friend found your grimoire and all the rumors she spread about you. Just because she was afraid of the unknown instead of trying to understand it. And mostly, you remember what your parents and doctors did to your older brother, thinking about him even after so long still makes your heart ache. How do you get over something like that?

"You forgot one detail, Luci." Lilith said suddenly. She was leaning over a small table, selectively choosing the sweets she would like to eat and then cramming as many as she could manage into her mouth at once. The lack of manners made her brothers all laugh at the way she resembled a squirrel with her cheeks puffed out, but even the embarrassment on her face didn't stop her from eating.

"The woman tends to follow the person she sees. So to get rid of her, you must guide her to the light, it's, um, pretty similar to what my kid here is used to doing since they were just a little sprout. Oh, how proud I am of them, you all should see them in action!"

The comment in a maternal tone warmed your heart and you almost wanted the former angel to wrap you in one of those warm hugs that took all the anxiety away, just like she did when you were just a child. But you restrained yourself and made a toast in her honor, raising your cup and drinking away with a goofy smile on your face.

"Come to think of it, how come we've never heard a story from you, Mc?" Satan asked. A cat pad was draped over his arms as he clutched it to his chest, the fabric mimicking the warm fur of a kitten. The blonde sipped his hot chocolate while waiting for you to respond with great interest in the topic.

But you knew he was just waiting for a chance to ask you to tell the story you briefly mentioned a few months ago.

On the one hand, it was true that they didn't know much about your histories or past in general. The brothers knew only brief details that Lilith told them when asked what kind of things you had been through together, some sad ghosts wandering and asking for help, the sound of footsteps on the floor of your room during the night and figures that you always saw out of the corner of your eye. But it was always fanciful, almost a sugar-coated lie.

And on the other hand, you didn't know if you'd like the idea of recounting all the thousands of sad and brutal cases on a night like the one when you celebrate family and unity. And there was so much blood and pain and torture in them that it could turn the stomach of anyone listening.

You could almost feel the presence of the people you've helped coming back to you, their hands rubbing your back or their warm breath on your neck, urging you to tell their stories, coaxing you to talk about what bothered you about each one of them. But that sensation only lasted a second and then your gaze hardened and you focused your attention on the flames devouring the charcoal and the crackling sound they made.

"I'll let you decide if you really want to hear such stories, but I must warn you that they are violent." You said it wisely. Then you leaned over and poured yourself some more hot chocolate, taking small sips to savor every drop of that precious liquid you hadn't had in a while. "I already have one in mind, in case the answer is positive. Not too violent and not too quiet, good enough for the Christmas mood."

"It's a must to have you tell the next story Mc, I can't stand listening to Lucifer talk all night anymore." Satan growled. The emerald eyes were focused in your direction, then quickly his focus returned to what he was drinking and to something Solomon had commented on some kitten post on Devilgram.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and began dramatically massaging his temples across the room, his melancholy coffee still curling upward in steam. And seeing that, Belphie quickly joined Satan just to make Lucifer's headache worse.

"I fully agree!" He suppressed a yawn before continuing to speak in a soft tone. "We've heard many stories told by Lucifer, Simeon and Barbatos. It would be nice to hear one that actually happened."

Leviathan and Mammon, however, seemed oblivious to everything going on around them. The two were playing a new game together that had just been released. The name was The Nephellim's Deal or something like that, you weren't sure, but you knew that several important figures for the history of Devildom were present in the game. Various wars, deals, and betrayals were elements you remember Levi talking about for several minutes.

Perhaps if you have time, you'd play it later and then you could compare your opinions on the game.

"Yummy sweets, they remind me of the ones we ate on our trip to India." Beel muttered suddenly, swallowing all the sweets on the tray and licking his lips so that not a single grain escaped him. You looked at Barbatos at the exact moment he trapped a sigh in his throat and smiled imperceptibly, tired and still wearing his white apron.

The poor demon has been baking cakes and pastries since early morning. You didn't have as much aptitude as him when it came to cooking, but your hands were aching after helping him for so long, the knowledge of his techniques, however, was too interesting for you to let a chance like that pass. Besides, you couldn't trust Solomon with cooking and you couldn't ask Luke to stay in the kitchen all day when you knew he wanted to play in the snow with the others.

Simeon smiled kindly. "I know you liked them so I brought these sweets directly from India, Beel."

At that moment Beel seemed to be hit by a cupid's arrow and he smiled widely. "Thanks Simeon. They were delicious."

"Boys, make up your mind please, Mc is impatient." Noticed Lilith. The angel was arranging the stockings over the fireplace in a specific way as she hummed her signature slow song, she almost seemed to float in the large coat that Lucifer always wore over her shoulders, smiling smugly as she managed to get her brother to hand over his favorite coat to her. "Don't torture my poor child too much or they'll get cranky."

You suppressed a giggle and waved your hand. But there was as always a ring of truth in her words, the brothers took ages to agree among themselves and the heady heat of the flames was enough to make sleepy sighs leave your throat and have you second-guessing whether you want to stay in the classroom or return to your quarters and sink into the comfortable, fluffy bed for a nap before Christmas dinner.

You let your head fall on your own shoulder as you waited for a statement from your other friends, humming the same song that Lilith was humming minutes ago, but more brighter and faster.

"I'll be happy to hear any stories, but I'm going to put Luke to bed first." Simeon signaled to the young angel who was sleeping in his lap. He got up and walked away towards the guest room that was given to him slowly, looking as tired as the others. And you swore you heard a yawn coming from him, but the sound was buried by Levi who let out a scream at that moment.

"Watch where you're going, Mammon!" He scolded his brother. "Why I'm playing a precious game like this with you?"

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just that ghosts and spirits are a darker topic than the horror stories we hear." Solomon stared at a fixed point, lost, he too had had his experiences with the supernatural. Instinctively he took his hand to Asmo's curls and twisted strands of his hair with his fingers, calmly patting Asmo's head, making the demon of lust purr violently. "But if you guys want to, I'm all for it. The only time I heard you tell any stories was during our practices together and they were all so short."

Lucifer turned to Diavolo and Barbatos with his eyebrows raised in mute question. But before they could even say anything the sound of the main doors opening made everyone fall silent and look at each other, noting that five people were still missing from their little celebration. Their voices and footsteps echoed down the hall quietly as if they owned the place and the shrill sound of Thirteen's laughter reached the room long before them.

And like a good host, the Morningstar calmly got up and went to meet his late guests. The sound of their happiness echoed in his deep voice as he greeted them warmly, you could hear the smile on his face.

And you took the opportunity to get up and stretch. Your feet were numb, but your mind seemed more awake and obviously the memories were resurfacing as well as Lilith, who was already smiling. She rubbed her hands together in an exaggerated manner and like a mother, she began to fix your hair and the collar of your shirt. "I kind of miss those times really, I always enjoyed running around and having fun with the ghosts."

"Are we going to tell the story about the drunken ghost? Or should we tell about the dancer and the mimic? So many stories to tell, I'm excited!" Lilith excitedly quoted the stories she remembered, counting on her fingers, her eyes shining in a special way as the faces and names of those people passed like a blur in her head, it's been a few years since most of them will happen. Those memories were as precious to her as they were to you and not for a second did you doubt that this wasn't the case, after all it was because of you that she had come back to life.

For the third and she hoped it would also be the last she was revived - but without dying this time, she was back in the world of the living, now as a half angel, half demon. One white wing and one black wing. Until now you didn't understand what went wrong with your reanimation spell to have caused this. But as long as she was alive and healthy, you assume it doesn't matter what she is. Plus she was now like Morgana, a nephellim.

She was finally back to life and that was all that mattered, you, her and the brothers could live happily ever after now, with nothing to worry about, with the exceptions of the usual chaos and silly fights that made everyone laugh.

You wouldn't trade it for anything.

"So… what do you intend to tell us?" Asmo eyed the two of you with interest, another purr leaving his lips as Solomon continued to rub his scalp and leave warm little kisses on his forehead. He looked sleepy, but curious enough to keep listening to you. "Oh, I already know! You could tell me how you met Lilith, for example."

"Or the story involving the S." Belphie smiled like he knew something his brothers didn't. And he sent you a particular look, a look that already communicated what he was thinking at that moment. He wanted to hear that story. For the third time…

Spoiled brat! You throught, smilling.

Lilith let out a laugh and gave her brother a shove with her shoulder. It was her way of telling him to be quiet, but you could already tell by the way everyone was looking at the two of you that their curiosity had been piqued by the comment made by the demon of sloth. They wanted an epic tale with spirits.

"What kind of story is this?" Beel asked his twin brother, stifling a small yawn against his hand. "Is it a scary one?"

It depends. You assume that human nature was more frightening than the facts that occurred, but yes. That was one of the scary stories you didn't like to remember, it reminded you that ordinary people at first sight could nurture bad thoughts and commit even worse crimes.

"Okay, let's tell the story of S." You took a deep breath and smiled, watching how the fire lit up the face of everyone present in that room. You were all about the dramatic effect.

And you sat in Lucifer's armchair, turning his coffee cup in your hand before you decided to taste it to see if it was good - big mistake, the taste was horrible for humans and Solomon laughed in your face almost like a little boy who won his favorite candy.

You were sure that he already tried the drink. "Awful, an outrage, I don't know how he drinks it! Uh-huh, completely insane, bitter, there's a distinct bitter that's really good, but this one? Bad…"

Barbatos laughed too. "I think you forgot, but the coffee of melancholy turns bitter when a person who likes you prepares it."

Oh yes. It makes sense.

Despite being strict, Lucifer was very soft with you. So sweet you didn't even have to eat candy to taste sugar on your tongue. You continued drinking his coffee with a chuckle.

But a clearing of his throat caught your eye and an unimpressed Lucifer glanced in your direction, a smug evil smile growing on his lips as he returned to his conversation with Hesperus, his counterpart and Nightstar, and his daughter, Morgana.

You didn't know what they were saying, but it seemed important as Diavolo glanced in their direction for a brief second.

The other guests began to sit in the vacant seats, Mephisto and his brother, Iblis, whispering softly and laughing, leaving several gift boxes under the Christmas tree and looking in the direction of the other people. You knew why since Mephisto had asked you what kind of things the brothers would like as gifts. But Thirteen was already heading to the coffee table for something to eat while she struck up a conversation with Beel, an elegant scarf draped over her shoulders perfectly enhancing the outfit she wore.

"So, uh, I suppose I can start?" You whispered to Lilith uncertainly, but the girl shrugged.

"Just a sec. Here!" Morgana handed you a small package. An unexpected gift and you smiled in her direction, thanking her softly.

"Uh…Okay." You muttered uncertainly. You left the box in your pocket and rubbed one hand over the other, waiting for everyone to settle down to hear that story. Mammon and Levi were still playing high enough to interrupt the immersion of the story, so Lucifer took their D.D.D and stuffed it in his pocket, sending them a severe look as they opened their mouths to complain.

At that moment Simeon returned, still drowsy, and sat down in his place. With everyone paying attention to you, you let out a long sigh and closed your eyes letting all the memories of that first event come flooding back. Everything you felt, everything you saw and lived, and with a smile you began to narrate the events.

"At that time I was six and my family was moving to the countryside..."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me solomon #obey me ocs #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #oc morgana #oc hesperus #obey me thirteen #Necromancer AU #obey me series

[strawberrycamel]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

The rules are: Answer the 15 questions and tag 15 of your mutuals.

Thanks @kinglazrus for the tag :D

1. Are you named after anyone? Technically yeah

2. When was the last time you cried? about a month ago i think; i was sitting in a pretty empty Tim Horton's and teared up about something or other that i've since forgotten about

3. Do you have kids? nope!

4. What sports do you play/have played? Track and Field, Softball, and Basketball briefly.

5. Do you use sarcasm? Me? Sarcasm? Never. ( :3 )

6. What's the first thing you notice about people? oh god dude i dont know, probably whatever's the most colourful thing on them

7. What's your eye color? Brown

8. Scary movies or Happy endings Happy endings pls. I can't handle scary movies at all.

9. Any talents? uhhhhhhhhhhh i dont think so

10. Where were you born? Canada

11. What are your hobbies? Writing, doodling, reading fic & fiction books, watching anime. Also playing a handful of very specific games.

12. Do you have any pets? no, BUT my cousin has a dog and he is a very sweet boy and i love him with all my heart

13. How tall are you? 5'7 and a half. or smth like that

14. Favourite subject in school Writer's Craft and. Accounting. [HEAR ME OUT, high school accounting classes were hella easy so i NEVER had homework to take home because i always got it done in class and then it was just. idk. weak sauce so most of the time i was goofing off.]

Runner ups are Marketing and International Business because I had the same teacher for that class and he didn't give a shit if you were late or absent or w/e, but if you were going out for food or something, he'd give you some cash and ask you to bring him some coffee and we were all chill. He let me use his empty classroom to eat lunch in too aaa. Mr. M you were quite literally the best. [Also, one time, despite being the Good Student and also taking the bus to school, the student council president was like "hey you wanna go to Tim's" and I was like "yeah sure" because I was playing it cool but genuinely. Ditching school to go to Tim's during school time as a high schooler was such a magical experience. okay im done now]

Favourite university class was Participatory Media and Communication hands fucking down, very specifically the assignments were always amazing and mostly carte blanche and the topics did not shy away from the harsh stuff and encouraged lots of discussion and analysis on the people and groups we were reading about. like, learning about the origins of BLM Canada, analyzing parts of The Finkelstein 5 by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah and Boys Go To Jupiter by Danielle Evans, the AIDS crisis in Canada, or how black queer people faired during the 80s. There was other stuff, but uh, *cough* those four bits really stuck with me for totally no reason whatsoever <- black queer person who likes learning about and discussing black, queer, and black queer history

15. Dream Job? shit man idk. whatever pays the bills and i don't hate completely. i dont really like the thing i majored in anymore, but woodworking/carpentry seems cool

Tags! @kawaiijohn @echoghost1 @sheepheadfred @goliath-de-senfina-sango @princessfanonanona @redead-red @ectoplasmicsoda @ln-ofx @grub-xd @ghost-pasta @themockingcrows @bubblegumbeech @redajcted @glorious-typo @basedstoutland

(feel free to join in or ignore)

#ask game #woops ask me about my favourite classes and i'll never shut up about them #also its kinda funny to me that the other questions were like a couple sentences tops and then. 3 paragraphs. then two sen.s for the last #lmao #im still so proud of the last assignment i did in that class aaaaa #really wish i recorded it but also. i would never post it bc thats how you get hate anons lmfao #(it was about intergenerational dialogue and discussions on sex positivity <3)

[incorrectsnkships]

The mental image of Levi with a baby strapped to his back while he's doing chores is 🥵 Maybe more than one baby so he looks like a grumpy mama possum.

i am very tired rn and running on one (1) bowl of cereal but god damn is dad levi one of the hottest things in the world (forgive any typos i am in so much pain)

young, single dad levi + me = incoherent screams

i am an absolute fucking sucker for single parent levi, bonus points if he had the kid at a young age, too.

just. him. holding his newborn and bouncing her (levi is a girl dad fucking fight me) up and down when she starts to grizzle is so cute. he’s so scared because what if he isn’t good enough and what if she’ll be better off with someone else? but no, he couldn’t do that. she didn’t ask to be born, so it’s his responsibility to make her life as happy as possible.

and he takes her to nursery and all of the other parents just silently judging him at drop off and pick up time because he must be the youngest one there judging by his face and his attitude nd his clothing and his style. they think he’s probably still a child himself, mentally, but when i tell you that he is a good dad anon, you best fucking believe it.

the shit he does for his kid. he’d go to the edge of the planet just for her. if nobody at school was taking her seriously or if she ever got bullied but nobody tried to stop it, i know for a fact that he’d be at his kid’s school in a heartbeat trying to sort things out.

they didn’t take him seriously at first, either, because, “mr ackerman, you’re barely twenty one yourself, i’m sure our grown, mature teachers know what they’re doing,” and that makes his blood absolutely boil. sure, he may be a kid with a kid, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t a parent, and being a parent means looking out for your child, putting them first, and doing things in their best interest.

the bullying doesn’t stop. levi’s had countless meetings at the school, so many that if he were to tally them all up, he’d be counting on both hands more than once. levi tends to lose his cool in said meetings, which has, unfortunately, meant that rumours have spread of levi being the “irresponsible, neglectful and careless dad,” which his kid has suffered as a result of. not in any legal consequences, more like teasing from other children. nasty stuff, kids can be cruel.

it gets too much. levi switches his kid’s school, and also puts in a complaint about her previous school, too. she’s five, school is meant to be fun, not hell. the realisation hit when he went over all the times when he’d try and dress his kid for school, try and get her to go but she just wouldn’t because she’d come home crying anyway, so what’s the point, right? the trouble is, levi has a hard time saying no, so this meant a lot of phone calls to school saying “oh, she has a fever,” “she has a stomach bug and won’t be in,” “she was up all night and now she’s paying for it, poor thing.”

obviously, levi had to be careful, otherwise it would turn legal.

l: baby come on. please, you have to

k: lol no

l: i’ll actually get in trouble pls go

k: bitch come at me

l: fine fuck u i’ll call the school and let them know you won’t be there ur going tomorrow tho

but the new school, oh, the new school. it was wonderful. the staff were so considerate, so kind and gentle with the children. they didn’t judge levi, but respected him very highly, and took their hat off to him for being able to raise a child whilst raising himself.

levi came across the term “gentle parenting” whilst aimlessly scrolling one day, seeing the posts that old friends from high school made - out having fun, clubbing, graduating, while he’s renting out a shitty two bedroom apartment with, practically, a toddler. but he wouldn’t have it any other way. anyway, he came across this title/style thing, and figured “huh, this must be me,” but gagged at some of the posts under the tag.

all millennial couples in their late thirties posting their yucky gender reveals and yucky baby showers and yucky kids with yucky names, commenting yucky things like, “my little bravey baby boy had an ouchy, broke my heart to see him in such a state! he’s so strong!” and realised that, okay, maybe this wasn’t him after all. not that type of gentle parenting, anyway.

levi liked to swear. a lot. but never in front of his kid. well, sometimes. he would curse when some fucker blocked off his right of way whilst driving, and would mutter “shitshitshit fuckfuckfuckfuck” under his breath whenever he’d hurt himself. sometimes, if he thought it wouldn’t do any harm, he’d swear to his kid. things like, “you’re a little shit, huh?” after his kid came up to him and blew a raspberry right in his face, but always followed it up with, “don’t say what i just did. it’s bad. don’t be like your dad, okay?” just to ensure that his bad habits aren’t rubbing off on her. and to cover his own tracks. technically it’s not his fault if she swears at school if he told her not to do it.

except one time when she did swear at school, and the teacher called home to inform levi. this school, the new school, was much more supportive. didn’t punish their younger years for cursing.

t: mr ackerman?

l: what’s wrong? is my kid alright?

t: yes, yes! she’s perfectly fine. however, i’m just calling to let you know that she did swear at another child earlier

l: oh really

t: yes, she did say the f and the s word, so i was just wondering if she might’ve picked it up from anywhere?

l, exaggerating: wha- well, i can assure you mrs roberts, she definitely has not got that from me, i am definitely going to be having a strong word with her when i pick her up!

the said word: “don’t cuss at school, ‘kay? i know dad does but maybe when you’re older.”

one night, levi tosses and turns in bed, can’t sleep. remembers when his baby became his. how little her hands and feet were, ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes which were his to look after. the blanket, which he kept, smelt like her, and the matching crocheted boots laid in his dresser drawer. he missed it. it made him think, it made him realise - he wants another baby. it couldn’t hurt, could it? to have another lil one.

but he couldn’t, really, could he. no partner. he’d be denied for adoption straight away, wouldn’t even get remotely considered. he’d just have to wait a little longer, ‘is all.

when levi turns twenty five and his kid is eight, they move out and stop renting the “apartment.” levi had worked many jobs over the years, multiple at once, even took his kid to work with him the majority of the time, just to be able to put money away for new opportunities like these, if his kid ever wanted to go to university and further her education. they buy a real house this time, a proper one, with more than three rooms.

when she grows up a little bit and gets older and starts to develop her own mind, thoughts, and opinions, levi gets a little sad. the day she turned 11 he swore it only felt like yesterday that he was bringing her home from the hospital, to their home and to her crib.

the day she goes to big school, levi cried after seeing her off. it wasn’t fair. when did she get so big again? was he watching?

the time flies like there’s no tomorrow. before he, and his kid, knew it, it was finals week. then, college, then, the decision of what she should study in university. levi wants whatever she wants. their bond only becomes closer, they act like friends rather than a parent and a child.

k: what would you do if i came home pregnant one day

l: kick you out

k: you’re one to talk

l: don’t talk to your father that way

k: hange says you were quite the man hoe back in the day

l: okay, “the day,” that you’re on about, was sixteen years ago, alright, and never listen to hange, just don’t

k: sixteen or sixty?

l: you are an asshole

his child grew up so quick. and if he had the chance to redo it all, he would, just so he could relive it again. he says he hates children, but no, he couldn’t really, and he doesn’t, he thinks about having more every day. dad levi = panty dropper. there, i said it.

i love dad levi so much i’m contemplating rn if i should write a fic about this (after the jearmin exchange ofc) because i just cant get enough of this material. if you have any dad levi fics, please share them!

#incorrectsnkships #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi ackerman #dad levi #dilfs tbf #eryx responds #levi being a dad #sort of dodged the question on this one #it was very self indulgent

[thegirl-kjrp]

Name: N/A

Alias: The Girl

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Age: Appears to be approximately 8 years old

Birthday: unknown

Gender: Female

Ethnicity: unknown, although she appears to be of mixed race and/or afro-latino.

Appearance: Short stature with sholder length light brown curly hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin.

Status: Alive

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

Immediate family: Mother, (deceased) [REDACTED]. Father, unknown.

Note: Fabulous Four is considered adoptive family

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Red text is Party

Green text is Ghoul

Blue text is Jet

About the writers:

Hi! You can call me Ash, I write for The Girl and others (as seen by my multiple side blogs...it's like the characters have minds of their own lol). I'm always down to write be it a thread or anything, even with new people, and feel free to shoot me an ask or a dm at any time! I swear I'm not as mean as my characters can be lol.

A couple things to note, I'm a junior in high school with a lot on my plate. Between honors courses, band, theatre, clubs, hobbies, and general life stressors, I just can't be as active as I would like to be. In addition, I'm physically and mentally disabled as well as immunocompromised. There are times where I'll get sick and be significantly more/less active.

Also, my memory is absolute dogshit. If I forget to reply or something, just let me know. There's a 50/50 chance that I ran out of spoons or just straight up forgot.

So, yep, I think that's enough about me. Rules are down below, as well as Mary's intro post, and I look forward to writing with you all!

P.S. pls use they/them pronouns when referring to me thank you very much

[Insert Mary's lil paragraph about herself here when she gets the time to write it]

Rules:

-Please do not ask to roleplay smut, we're both minors (16 and 17) and therefore uncomfortable with that.

-no playing god

-please discuss before injury is inflicted

-please be kind and keep in mind that we're both very inexperienced rpers, so we may make mistakes or typos at times

-please let us know if we need to tag or add trigger warnings to anything.

-don't be an ass. Please. If your character is thats cool, but if you are, we will block you. Goodbye.

[thatwasthenightthingschanged]

blogs to tag

here’s a list of blogs you can tag in your edits! I’ve found that most of those already floating around we’re not up-to-date so here’s a fully updated list:)

@alanisinterludemp3 - #userclem

@alanisinterludes - #useroutofstyle

@aliciareads13 - #bye alyshia

@alliexs - #userjoyce

@allmyfriendsarefake - #useramb

@alltoosam - #useralltoosam

@alltoowsll - #useratw

@ashleysfrangipane - #userjiya

@askmeifilovehim - #tsuserelle

@bellesbooks - #tsuserellie

@bitchsession - #userroyal

@burstintocolor - #burstintocolor

@cages-boxes-hunters-foxes - #cbhf

@callingeverybody - #userkeely

@callitwhatyouwnt - #usercallitwhatyouwnt

@cardsharksplayingames - #userandrea

@caryslast - #usercali

@cellphonehippie - #usercellphonehippie

@clean-remastered - #userclean

@clearbluuwater - #userbluu

@cruel-style - #tsuserellen

@dancingwithourshandstied - #usermiranda

@doremifah - #userdoremifah

@eastcoast - #tusertori

@edythemasen - #userpatty

@everythinghaschanged - #userkree

@gilfaizons - #userthemis

@goodpipeandmoonlight - #editsandall

@gravesyard - #useraashna

@halseyz - #usertellmewhy

@heroesfadings - #tsusermaddison

@itsgoldenlikedaylight - #userdaylight

@itsgoldenlikedayllight - tsuserjosy

@ivelovedu3summers - #tsuserkara

@itsmorningnowitsbrighternow - #tsuserbeginagain

@jessdcy - #userkaley

@jokewedmade - #userhelin

@justicerains - #tsuserclara

@killinboys - #usertts

@krstnbells - #tsuseraly

@livinonahighwire - #tsuserkris

@loseherlove - #tsuserkat

@lovelessgneration - #tuserjohanna

@loverdeluxe - #userasif

@lovers-ts - #userloversts

@melodramas - #tuserabby

@missegyptiana - #tsuserbella

@niallsaysgayrights - #tuserlillie

@nweromantics - #nweromantics

@oldiaries - #tsusersara

@onelookdarkroom - #tsusernina

@paintedmegolden - #tuseramy

@paintedmesgolden - #tuserliana

@papersrings - #userhasti

@pridesandprejudices - #userananyab

@primeverdeens - #useravee

@princessmishaps - #userpayg

@purpleswift - #userpurpleswift

@pushforyellow - #tsuserashley

@raininsohos - #userbattledemo

@rockbackandforth - #tsusergracie

@sappyswift - #mal’s edits

@seedaylight - #seedaylight

@shegavemeroses - #tuservioletjane

@so-devoidofcolors - #userdarling

@soitgoes23 - #soitgoes23

@spidey-swift - #tsusermeggie

@stepintothedaylight - #userojo

@stoptaylornation - #useraprilh

@sunwillcomeup - #tsuseranne

@swifteras - #swifteras

@taylorswifh - #usertaylorswifh

@tayorswift - #usersar

@thatwasthenightthingschanged - #thingschanged

@technicolorvisions - #tsusermegan

@thegamesbegin - #thegamesbegin

@thesonofneptune - #userleanne

@thewineforyou - #userthewineforyou

@timcgraws - #usertimcgraws

@timotheechalxmet - #userspendsmychange

@tryhards - #youbelongwithmes

@tswift - #zaniswift

@twinfiresiigns - #usertwinfiresiigns

@tylorswift - #tsuserarchi

@uhh-imean - #tsuserbee

@veronicasawyyer - #userjacinta

@walkcornelia - #tuserlivie

@wannagetbetters - #tsuserandrea

@wonderstruck - #userwonderstruck

@ybwms - #userybwms

#i also went through my follow list & collected tags :) #if any of the ppl i added that way want to be removed from this list lmk! #also pls let me know if there's any typo in your tag #save

[neosarchives]

because i met you

—ep2: dressed like hyuck?

warning: the cutest!

word count: 0.5k words

Saturday afternoon and the father and daughter had just been laying around on Mark's bed until Mark thought to finally do something.

"Bada baby, what should we do today?" Mark asked the cute little girl, while still laying down.

Hearing her dad's voice, she turned to him and paid attention attentively, "Outside! Outside!" the little girl cheered, jumping with her knees on the bed.

The excitement of the little girl caused Mark to giggle, "Alright, alright~, where do you want to go?" he asked.

"I want some pancakes!" Bada cheered. "Also can uncle Hyuck join us? Pretty please?" she added, cupping her dad's face in her hands.

"Oh? Is uncle Hyuck your favourite?" he asked in a teasing tone. She hummed and mumbled an "I dunno kno—" under her breath.

Mark lightly laughed. "Okay, let's give uncle Hyuck a call."

Ring~ ring~ ring~ on speaker. Haechan picked up the call, "Yesss~ 'Melt'?"

"Yooo—are you free today?"

"I most of the time am, so yeah, what's up?"

"I asked Bada if she wanted to do something today and she said she wanted to go out and wanted you to come with."

Bada rushed to bring her mouth near the phone and yelled, "Uncle Hyuck! Come with us please!"

Haechan laughed at the cute little girl and replied in a sweet tone, "I would love to Bada, I'll get ready right now, okay?"

"Yay! Okay! See you soon and take care!" she replied and added a 'muah'.

Mark smiled and adored how sweet his daughter was.

"Yo Hyuck, any idea where we can go? Bada said she wanted pancakes," he asked the boy on the phone.

"Yeah, wanna try this new cafe my friend recommended to me? Apparently, it's kind of nearby our area," he recommended.

"Yeah ok! Cool! Mind meeting here? So we can just take my car." Mark suggested.

"Okay yeah, I'll be there in 25!", Mark replied with a bye and ended the call.

Mark got up from the bed and turned to his daughter, "Bada, come on let's get ready! Uncle Hyuck is coming soon!" Bada then jumped off the bed and quickly ran to the bathroom.

Bada had ended up playing around with Mark in the bathroom, and by the time they were just about to be done, Haechan, knowing Mark's code had barged in while announcing he had arrived.

"Just a sec!" Mark yelled from the bathroom. "Bada, hurry! Uncle Hyuck is here!", causing Bada to hurry out in her towel to greet Haechan.

Haechan giggled at the sight and greeted her with a hug. "Uncle Hyuck! Can you pick my outfit for me?", the little girl asked. Haechan nodded, and giggled, "Of course sweetie."

"I want to dress like you!" Bada noted.

Mark yelled, "Are you getting dressed Bada?". Haechan replied, "Yes she is Mark!"

After some time getting ready, the three were done getting dressed, and everyone was set to go. "Ready Bada?" Haechan asked the little one, "Yes!", she cheered. And everyone was on the way out.

home     [prev.]     [next]

⋆ pairing: lee mark x reader

⋆ summary: after the mother of his child left him for another guy, mark had developed trust issues which brought him to never want to fall for any girl again. everything was going well in mark’s life, just him, his beloved daughter, his best friends, and his success as an author. what happens if a girl unexpectedly comes, and already falls before even realizing it?

⋆ a/n: pls ignore any typo and if the writing is bad, i suck at writing:) i hope you guys will like it! send an ask if you wanted to be added to the tag list! also just a little s/o to my bestie @najaemism for helping me with things! <333 ignore timestamps!

s;taglist: @najaemism @catscoffeeandkpop @studywoo @keijikunn @aedreamzy @smolpeyy

bimy;taglist: @tennieboiii

#smau: because i met you #neosarchives #mark lee smau #nct mark lee smau #mark lee #lee mark #nct dream #nct dream au #nct au #nct #nct fake text #nct imagines #nct fluff #kpop fake chats #nct haechan #haechan

[alpacaparkaseok]

How to Sell Sunshine |12|

Chapter 12. The Mole

→ Pairing: mafia!BTS x reader (not poly)

→ word count: 4.7k

→ warnings/tags: murder, pretty violent depiction, betrayal, no Lambo so sorry but the SUV is doing great, we’re getting down to the end of this series so things are going crazy

→ a/n: I’m back! So sorry this took forever long to get up - and sorry for any typos. I’ll go back in the morning and edit if needed lol. also pls let me know if you have questions because this chapter is a mess.

Series Masterlist ♟ join the taglist!

In the dark of the night, a feather light touch is what rouses you from sleep. It lights upon your cheek, trailing down to caress the line of your jaw. Something about it is strangely familiar, calming your panicked heart as you groggily open your eyes.

           “…hmm?” You can’t form any words in this half-asleep state. It’s almost completely void of light in the foyer. Squinting, you can just make out the silhouette of your visitor. Again, something about their figure strikes you as familiar.

           Whoever it is, they don’t respond. Rather, they linger a moment longer, watching you. The feeling gives you goosebumps. It’s not unpleasant, but the longer they linger, the more something sours in the pit of your stomach.

           “I can’t see you,” you whisper out with a rasp. “What’s wrong?”

           A soft laugh reaches your ears before, in the blink of an eye, your mysterious visitor disappears into the shadows. Staring at where they just were, you become more and more awake as you struggle to comprehend what just happened.

           “What a strange dream,” you mumble despite knowing full well it was real. Before you can really take a moment to dissect what just happened, a sudden wave of exhaustion crests. Some part of you is surprised at how quickly you’ve tired, but it’s quickly quieted by the addictive lull of slumber. Tumbling headfirst into dreamland, the sound of a muffled scream echoes through the house.

It falls on deaf ears.

--

Something’s wrong.

           Squinting into the sunlight, syrupy silence fills your ears. A dull pain throbs along your neck from where you slept on the couch, but it fades into the background as something much sharper pierces your senses.

           The house reeks of death.

           Heart leaping into your throat, you jump off of the couch only to immediately shrink into the corner of the room still untouched by the early morning sun. Like a bloodhound on a hunt, you pause to sniff out trouble. When only the dull hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen reaches your ears, you venture out into the hallway.

           Immediately you notice that the door to the study is cracked open. Peeking inside reveals an empty room save for an open book on the table. Something tugs at you, curiosity or dread, making you investigate further. Silently creeping inside, you get a closer look at the book. A chill runs down your spine as you immediately recognize what it is you’re looking at.

           A collection of Shakespeare’s greatest works. Julius Caesar is proclaims atop the page. It’s been left opened on the scene of Caesar’s assassination by those he loved and trusted most. A ragged corner of the page is torn, cutting the scene short.

           “There you are.”

           Nearly jolting out of your skin, you turn to see an exhausted Yoongi hovering in the doorway. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You harshly whisper. When Yoongi only seems to grow gloomier by the second, your frown deepens. “What happened?”

           “I’m not entirely sure.” He glances over his shoulder, down the hallway. “Come with me.”

           Not seeing much else of an option, you follow him as quietly as possible. To your surprise, he leads you to the basement. As you begin to descend the stairs, Yoongi quietly begins to explain.

           “You were asleep last night when the others got home, but they brought Ortega back for questioning, as well as that book in the study.”

           “The one with the torn page?”

           Yoongi doesn’t bother to hide his grimace. “Yeah, that one. Jimin said it was stashed under the desk at the library. They didn’t get to do much more snooping because Ortega showed up, armed and ready to rob the poor librarians.”

           “So he went rogue?”

           “Basically. Said his money was tied up with Bianchi, and now that he’s gone, he doesn’t think he’ll ever see it again. Not with Shylock in charge.” The basement is dim, casting long shadows along the walls. Yoongi pauses outside a door that leads to room you rarely use. You wait for him to open it, but he appears hesitant. Perhaps it’s because of the thick scent of iron wafting from underneath it.

           “Did they question him?” You ask. Yoongi nods curtly.

           “Didn’t get much out of him, he gave a few vague and scattered details about Shylock’s attack the other night at your father’s mansion, but he left pretty quickly after all that. It’s proven to be much more of a hassle than it should’ve been, if you ask me.”

           You gesture to the closed door. “Is he in there?”

           Yoongi takes a deep breath. “I found him this morning when I woke up and something just felt…off. I came down here to make sure he hadn’t escaped, but-”

           You place a hand on his shoulder, making him look at you. “It’s alright, Yoongi. Open the door.”

           He does, regrettably. The stench hits you full force, leaving your eyes watering as you take in the sight before you.

           There sits Ortega – or what’s left of him. His clothes are in tatters and blood stains the floor in a puddle beneath him. His head lolls to one side, eyes shut almost as if even in death, he didn’t want to look upon his bloodied state.

           “He’s been dead for hours,” Yoongi quietly surmises. He stands just behind you, squinting at the scene. “I don’t know…I should’ve stayed up and kept a watch.”

           You shake your head. “He was left here unsupervised?”

           “Make no mistake, the cameras were monitored, and an alarm was set to alert us if it detected any sort of movement in the basement or in this room.”

           “So what happened?” You swivel around to take a look at the camera in the upper corner of the room. There doesn’t appear to be any physical damage to it. “Cameras crashed?”

           “Something like that. Whoever did this had some sort of technology that caused all the cameras to freeze up. By the time I realized what was happening…” Frowning, you turn to see Yoongi looking up and down the hallway just like he did upstairs. Paranoia is written all over his face, making your anxiety spike.

           “Do you think whoever did this is still here?”

           He nods at Ortega’s lifeless body. “Look at what’s on Ortega’s chest.”

           Reluctantly you turn to glance at the man’s blood-soaked form once more. Nothing jumps out at you at first, but then you see it. Covered in dried blood and resting just above his heart, a small piece of ripped paper gazes back at you. It perfectly matches the tear from the book laid open in the study, instantly taking you back to the scene that was playing out.

           “’Et tu, Brute?’” You read aloud.

           Caesar’s final words, according to Shakespeare. Amidst the chaos of the attack, he turned to see his closest friend Brutus wielding a dagger. You’d always felt pity for Caesar in that moment, knowing that his dearest friend would bring about his end. There was no anger in those final words. Simply heartbreak.

           “You too, Brutus?” Yoongi softly echoes. His footsteps are quiet as he comes to face you. You look right past him, staring at the paper as if staring down your own death.  

           How could you be so blind?

           “Yesterday, when I pinned Alexandra down as the traitor,” Yoongi quietly explains. “I believed that there could be an accomplice. Another mole. I didn’t want to say anything with the others around – not yet. Time – I needed more time to observe. But I’m too late. I waited too long to confer with you, and for that I apologize.”

           The world seems hazy as you slowly meet Yoongi’s eyes. His words sound as if they come from underwater, but that does nothing to deter the sting of the truth.

           “There’s a traitor among us.”

#

           Getting rid of a body has never been your strong suit.

           When you ask Yoongi where everyone else is, he explains that they must all still be in bed. “Whoever did this is either sleeping it off or cowering,” he adds with a disdainful look at the stains of blood soaking the floor.

           “Do you have any leads?” You ask. Ortega’s body has been carefully wrapped up and placed in the back of the SUV. “You mentioned before that you’ve been thinking about it a lot. What triggered it?”

           For now, you’re trying to mop up the mess. Yoongi holds the torn paper in his hands, practically burning a hole through it with his gaze. “A few suspicions or questions. Now, for example, which one of us is most likely to prefer a knife to a gun for a murder? Stabbing is dirty and less effective. More time consuming. You’d think that anyone trying to get away with this would want to move quickly.”

           Your stomach lurches once more, one of the few things you’ve felt since you discovered a traitor in your midst. Shock has settled upon you, leaving little room for panic.

           “Or,” Yoongi continues, “who among us has been in contact with Shylock? Obvious candidates are Jimin and Namjoon, since they’ve been working on the outside and could have easily been in communication with him before moving here permanently.”

           “Not Namjoon.” You nearly choke on the name, but you force it out anyway. Wasn’t it just yesterday that Namjoon was going on a grocery run for you? The thought of his betrayal is foreign and strange. “He loathes Yadiel just as much as I do – even more, perhaps.”

           “But why?” Yoongi presses. “How much do we actually know about his story?”

           “You’re just trying to get me to suspect everyone.”

           He nods, a half-smile on his face. “Of course I am. At this point, trust nobody. Not even me.”

           You nod, knowing he’s right. “I still say it’s not Namjoon, though. He seemed genuine in his hatred. And he’s never given me a reason to distrust him, in the short time I’ve known him.”

           “Then we have Jimin.”

           “Honestly? I have no reason to assume it’s him, but I also don’t have any reason to assume he’s innocent.” You shake your head. “We’ve butted heads in the past, but I don’t think he would sell me out because of it. What do you think?”

           “Let me tell you what I think: Hoseok is ruled out for two reasons. First, stabbing doesn’t fit his style. The man can’t stand blood on his clothes and honestly has no reason to betray you. Before this, he had no allegiance to anyone. Which means nobody could pressure him into betraying you over an old debt or something.”

           You let the thought sit. “I’ve trusted Hoseok with my own life before. If he wanted to betray me, he’s already had plenty of opportunities. But, if you’re saying that stabbing isn’t Hoseok’s style, then I have to say that it isn’t Jimin’s, either.”

           “True enough, I suppose.” He frowns at the floor. “Then there’s Seokjin. While I wouldn’t rule out this sort of violence from him – don’t look at me like that, we both know he’s a little off his rocker – I have a hard time getting a motive from him. His loyalties lie with himself. Working with Yadiel seems a bit out of character for him.”

           “And there’s you,” taking a step forward, you tilt your head as you study Yoongi. “Drowning beneath your warring loyalties and always looking over your shoulder. Daggers aren’t your preferred weapon, but you’ve done it before, haven’t you? At the bidding of the Genovese family, you’ve done anything and everything. Right?”

           Yoongi swallows heavily as the ghosts of his past threaten to drag him under. “Yes.”

           “Everyone knows that you were loyal to a fault. Why did you leave? We both know that defecting from the Genovese family is as good as a death sentence.” Yoongi opens his mouth but you cut him off, feeling your heartrate rising. “Don’t tell me something vague like freedom. If you chance leaving, you must have done it for something real and concrete.”

           You’re still holding the mop in your hand, and Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to it as if expecting you to wield it as a sword. “I left because of this. This moment, right here.”

           “What do you mean?”

           “Most people shoot first and ask questions later. But you…” he shakes his head, trying to find the words. “You actually talk to me. To all of us. Instead of immediately assuming the worst, you get to the bottom of things.”

           “I’m no Sherlock Holmes.”

           “No, but it makes you a good leader.” He eases a little closer, placing one hand atop the mop before taking it from you and continuing to clean up. “I left because with you, for the first time in my life, I felt as though I was essential rather than expendable.”

           Warmth brushes against your paralyzed heart. “I still haven’t ruled you out, yet.”

           Yoongi snorts. “Worth a shot, don’t you think?”

           Rolling your eyes, you lean up against the wall and watch him work. “What about the others, then? Taehyung and Jungkook?”

           “Be cautious,” Yoongi immediately advises. “Jungkook has ties with Shylock, as you well know. Although he did express what appeared to be genuine concern over your safety. That being said, it’s entirely possible that Shylock has some hold over him, which would explain why Ortega was murdered instead of you. He could just be beating around the bush, giving you time to escape.”

           Your throat is dry, voice coming out in a raspy whisper as you press on. “And Taehyung?”

           Yoongi gives you a rueful smile. “Never trust Italians.”

           Forcing out a dry laugh, you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “You know, it’s an awful thing to have to clean up a murder before I’ve even brushed my teeth for the morning.”

           “You’re telling me. I’m the one that has to smell your awful morning breath.”

--

           It’s decided that Hoseok and Seokjin will assist Yoongi in disposing of the body. A quick trip to the Hudson is all it should take, but they can’t be too cautious.

           “Let’s grab Namjoon, too” Yoongi mulls it over as you rouse Hoseok from his deep slumber. It’s pushing ten already, yet for some unnatural reason nobody else has risen for the day. “While we’re gone, he’ll have your back.”

           Hoseok rubs his eyes and stares at the two of you with utter confusion. “…what?”

           You’re suddenly reminded of your strange visitor in the middle of the night. A bolt of fear stabs your heart as you now know why they seemed so familiar to you. Whoever it was, it was one of the people that you trusted – that you live with. They must have made a stop on their way down to the basement and stumbled upon your sleeping form.

           “Is it possible that the traitor slipped everyone something during the night?” You wonder aloud, turning to face Yoongi completely. “That would explain why everybody’s been out. Why I was out – although it doesn’t explain why I woke up early.”

           Hoseok quickly literally stumbles out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweats over his boxers and a bright hoodie covered with hearts. Yoongi nods along to your words, connecting something in his head.

           “That’s very plausible,” he decides. “As for why you woke up early…they could have given you a smaller dose in hopes that you’d stumble upon the scene of the crime first. They’re not hiding that they live among us – they were probably hoping to scare you into running or showing your hand too early.”

           “I’m ready,” Hoseok mumbles, bumping into you as he wanders out into the hallway. “Where’re we going?”

           When the three of you make it to Seokjin’s room, you’re surprised to see him already awake. He’s sitting up in bed, frowning up at the ceiling when you enter. His hair is an absolute mess, something you’ve never had the opportunity of seeing. It brings a small smile to your face before it’s wiped away.

           “You’re awake.”

           His frown deepens at your statement. “Am I not supposed to be?” He asks. Then, “It feels like I shouldn’t be.”

           “I’ll explain on the road,” Yoongi supplies. “Get up. We should hurry, before the others get up.”

           Seokjin doesn’t ask any questions, nor does he have a snarky comment ready. Instead, he quietly gets up and pads around the room as he gets ready. When he emerges out of his room a couple of minutes later, there’s not a single hair out of place.

           The walk to Namjoon’s room is longer than normal. You each try to move as silently as possible, making you even more paranoid. It’s a relief when you finally reach his room. The sound of his snores greet you before you can even open the door.

           Tip-toeing over to his bed, you fight back a laugh at the obscene amount of drool on his pillow as he snores away. “Namjoon,” you whisper, nudging his shoulder.

           After a few more seconds of your efforts, Namjoon awakes with a jolt. You jump back to avoid being headbutted, launching yourself directly back into Seokjin’s chest.

           “Oof-” he grunts, holding you steady. “Easy there.”

           Namjoon is up and out of bed in a flash, hastily wiping his mouth and looking at each of you in turn. “What happened?”

           Yoongi gives you a pointed glance. “She’ll fill you in while we’re gone, but we need you to keep her safe. Don’t trust the others, no matter what they say, alright?”

           Namjoon doesn’t look convinced. “Why should I trust you?”

           “You shouldn’t.” Turning on his heel, Yoongi pauses in the doorway, leveling Namjoon with a heavy look. “Promise me that she’ll be kept safe, Namjoon.”

           You observe Namjoon as he nods curtly. “You have my word.”  

Breaking the heaviness in the room, you send Yoongi off with a mock salute. “And you have my word that I’ll finally brush my teeth.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly, rolling his eyes. With that, the three walk out of the room, leaving just the two of you in silence. You listen as they walk out the door and the hum of the SUV disappears down the driveway.

“Would you like me to accompany you to your room so you can brush your teeth?”

Namjoon hisses as you elbow him in the ribs, but he follows you just the same as you sneak out of his room. The house is still quiet, but you tread carefully as you head up the stairs and near your room. Jungkook’s room is close by, as is Taehyung’s, setting you on edge. Making a beeline straight for your room, you let out a sigh of relief once you’ve made it in without any sign of the other members of your mafia.

Namjoon meanders about your room while you brush your teeth and get ready for the day. As you do, you inform him in hushed tones of all that’s transpired over the course of the night.

“So, Ortega’s dead.” His brows furrow slightly as he winces. “Brutally.”

“The note left on his chest was a little unsettling, too,” you joke, trying desperately to keep some form of lightness in this conversation for your own sake. The fear of drowning under the knowledge of there being a mole among the boys is growing with each passing second.

“Et tu, Brute?” Namjoon whispers. “It’s practically a declaration of betrayal if I’ve ever seen one. And you said the book was left open in the study?” You nod. “So whoever it is…they’re not trying to hide their betrayal. But there’s no specific clues as to whom?”

The thought of trying to figure it out is enough to send your head spinning. Especially as it conjures up the image of your late-night visitor – their familiar build and soft touch. A touch that you know; if only you could recall where you know it from.

“I…” you bite your tongue, deciding for now that it might be best to withhold that bit of information. “No? Unless I’m missing something?”

“Well, let’s break it down. Last night, we brought back Ortega for questioning-”

A timid knock on the door nearly sends you flying. Namjoon is on his feet in a second, eyes trained on the door with murderous calculation. Moments later, another knock follows and a concerned voice reaches your ears.

“Jagiya? You in there?”

Your heart leaps into your throat. “I…I’m just sleeping, Jungkook. Did you need something?”

“Oh. Can I come in?”

Namjoon’s gaze that he shoots back at you feels like daggers against your skin. It’s easy enough to understand: trust nobody.

Including Jungkook.

Hurrying to the door, you give Namjoon a small nod to show him that you understand before opening the door just a crack. The sight before your eyes is enough to have tears welling up only for you to blink them away.

Jungkook stands close to your door, clad in basketball shorts and a hoodie. His hair a tumbling into his eyes, which he shoves back with a yawn. It’s a sight you haven’t seen in ages despite sleeping in the room next to him.

Nothing about him screams betrayal. Yet, with a pang, you know that you can’t allow yourself to slip up because of a soft spot for Jungkook. Especially not when the vision of Ortega’s state is fresh in your mind.

Jungkook blinks blearily at you, clearly confused. “Can I…come in?”

The feeling of Namjoon’s worried gaze on your back is palpable as you respond. “I’m just about to take a shower, actually. Do you mind?”

“Oh. Oh,” he turns beet red as he realizes why you’ve only opened the door a fraction. As far as he knows, you’re lacking in the clothing department on your way to the shower. “Right. Er, yeah. That’s fine. Just – do you know where everybody is? Yoongi said he wanted a full report on how Jimin’s interrogation went with Ortega last night, but I can’t find him anywhere.”

He’s tossing a body into the Hudson at the moment. “He’s out. Tracing some new leads on Yadiel with a few of the others.”

“Ok. I’ll just text him, then.” You nod, relieved, but Jungkook stops you before you can close the door on him. “Hey, are you alright?”

You blink slowly at him, heart beating as fast as a rabbit in your chest. “Me? Good. Yeah, fine. Just didn’t sleep great last night.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, and for all the world he sounds genuine. A part of you loathes how sincere he is, knowing that it’d be much easier to distrust him if he didn’t look at you with those starts in his eyes. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your shower. Sorry.”

“You’re fine, Kook. Thanks.” Quickly, before he can say anything more, you close the door and wait until you hear him leave. Something dark and nasty curls in the pit of your stomach at the thought of keeping this all from Jungkook, knowing full well that it will hurt him more than anyone else.

Namjoon lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You did well.”

Managing a shaky nod, you brush off his hand on the way to the bathroom. “Maybe I really will take a shower. Is that fine with you?”

Sliding a book off your nightstand and plopping onto your bed, Namjoon gives you a broad smile. “Perfect.”

In the shower, you’re nearly melting beneath the scalding water but you can’t bring yourself to turn it down. Instead, you force yourself to become spotless under the heat. The shock of the water quiets the shock in your head, providing a moment’s reprieve from the constant chatter in your brain.

Chatter like, Jungkook would never betray me like this, and why was Yoongi awake so early? dominate every moment, leaving you breathless when you finally exit. After quickly toweling off and getting changed, you emerge from the shower with an idea and half a plan.

Which is better than usual, honestly.

Now, the question remains: who can you trust?

           Striding out of the bathroom, you feel fiercer than your fluffy bathrobe makes you look. Namjoon watches you out of the corner of his eye as you strut into your closet, thoughtfully putting on clothes and mulling over your new plan. Who to trust appears to be the biggest obstacle, which leaves you at a loss.

           Hoseok appears to be the best candidate, along with Namjoon. Yoongi, for all his assistance, has too much motive.

           Seokjin is…complicated.

           Jimin could easily have been in communication with Yadiel behind your back.

           Then there’s Jungkook and Taehyung. Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to trust them, to confide in them, but something holds you back. Perhaps it’s because of Jungkook’s history with Yadiel or Taehyung’s entangled history with you, but you push them to the side for now.

You’re in the middle of braiding your hair back as tightly as possible when Namjoon pops up behind you. He meets your eyes in the foggy bathroom mirror, huffing out a quiet laugh when you pause in order to let your sore arms rest.

“Going somewhere?”

“Yep,” you pop the p. “And you’re invited.”

Namjoon’s brows rise, clearly interested. “Oh? You think Yoongi will let you venture out after everything that’s happened?”

“Two things, Namjoon. First: this is my house. I come and go as I please.” With a wince, you continue to braid, ignorning the burning in your arms. “And secondly: I think for the first time, I might be safer out on the street than in my own home. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He sucks in air through his teeth, wincing in acknowledgement. “Fine. Where are we going?”

--

In hindsight, you wish you would’ve brought another gun.

Standing in front of the gate that opens to the grand Genovese estate, you can’t stop fidgeting. Namjoon doesn’t have the heart to scold you as he scuffs his shoes on the gravel, looking around as if waiting for archers to begin firing from the treetops.

           “State your name and business,” comes a grainy voice through the intercom.

Pressing down the button, you reply, “Bianchi. That should explain it.”

When no response comes for a couple of minutes, you begin to worry. Have you come all this way for nothing? Sneaking out of the house was difficult enough, not to mention the fear of Yoongi’s fiery wrath when you get home.

You’d crafted a careful text to him earlier, explaining that you were taking Namjoon and heading out to complete some important business. His lack of response wasn’t anything new, and before he could finally respond you shoved your phone away and left with a second thought.

The voice returns, slightly more interested but just as robotic as before. “Please no walking on the garden or shrubbery. Please keep on the path at all times. Please complete a weapons check before entering the Genovese home.”

The gates swing open, granting access to a place you never thought you’d see. In fact, under any other circumstances, you’d be dead before ever making it to the front gate. Now, you have something they want. They’ll grant you your life for curiosity’s sake.

You just hope you can make it out alive.

Looming before you like a meteor crashing into the earth, the Genovese Manor holds no mercy or warmth. It sets your blood pumping as you stroll right in through the front door to your biggest rival’s home.

Namjoon stays close behind you as two gruff looking guards take your weapons. “We’ll store these for you somewhere dry,” they explain with a crooked smile. Once again wishing you’d brought an extra gun to hide away. Once that’s taken care of, you’re cleared to enter.

The interior is rich and lavish, immediately making you feel out of place as you continue down toward were you see a roaring hearth. Before the flames sits a single figure, flanked on both sides by guards that eye you questioningly.

“Come in,” calls the person. “I’d love to have a chat, Madame Bianchi. I expect to find you much more reasonable than your late father.”

Rounding about to face the man clearly, you fight the urge to step back and run. “I’m here because we have a mutual problem that I’d like to assist in eliminating.”

Before you, Russo gives a dark smile. “I’m listening.”

previous / next

pls come talk to me

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts mafia #bts mafia au #bts ot7 #bts x reader #mafia!bts #mafia bts x reader

[ethanesimp]

THE OAK TREE // TWO E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x GN! Reader

Summary: Everyone at the Oakes Academy is aware of the rivalry that exists between two of the school’s best students, Ethan Torchio and Y/N L/N. What nobody knows is what a brilliant team they are when they’re at risk of their reputations being damaged and a killer’s on the loose.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of blood, mentions of death and descriptions of it, mention of suicide (pls read with caution, ily <3).

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

CHAPTER ONE

A/N: Again, I apologize for the delay, life has been a lil bit crazy this past week. I also wanted to apologize for any possible typos because I’m working on a project but decided to take a break to finish this for you guys! I promise I’ll proofread this as soon as I get some time. Also, in the part where they’re texting, I recommend you check the texts on the Google Drive for context. Otherwise you might get a bit lost.

DON’T FORGET TO CHECK OUT TE AVAILABLE MATERIAL IN THE GOOGLE DRIVE WHICH YOU CAN FIND ON THE SERIES MASTERLIST

Taglist (strike means it won’t let me tag you):  @oro-e-diamanti @gretavanfleetlove @victoriadeangeliswifey @cheese-toastie-11 @selenophiliaxx @superchrystaldrug @petit-poussin @bidet-and-legolas @fallingforyou123 @ethaneskin @soft-boy-ethan @teenyweenynightghost @reputationdamiano @cantaraiilmionome @tabi-toast @queen-of-brokenhearts @geklutst-ei @juststalking @cruz-ata @ohtorchio @ethan-torchio-angelo @unitermoonshine @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @marriedwithmarktuan @its-afucking-mess @juststalking @goldenpeaxh​

LAST CHAPTER’S WINNING DECISION: They believe it is all real and go search for the body the finger might belong to. (The impact of this decision will be reflected next chapter).

Let the games begin. 

You had to read the last part once more, so consumed by the shock that barely any words had registered into your brain. Your hands were shaking as you held it closer to yourself. Maybe it was all part of the disbelief because you found yourself scanning the words over and over again until you had the first paragraph memorized. 

But then… then Ethan started laughing. 

Short, breathy laughs escaped past his lips, immediately followed by sharp inhales, as if he were desperate to get more air to reach his lungs. You brushed it off and went right back to reading the last few phrases that were on the very back, even said them under your breath to try and make them become real because everything seemed like nothing but a dream, no, a nightmare.

Then it slowly dawned on you after you finished reading the letter. All worry subsided and you had no doubt in your mind you would’ve started laughing too if you weren’t seeing red. Consumed by the sudden rage, you turned to Ethan and didn’t hesitate to tackle him into the ground.

In any normal instance, you wouldn’t have been able to do it, but you’d caught him off-guard, which was confirmed by the surprised yelp he let out as his back collided with the muddy floor and dry leaves crunched underneath his weight. You moved to straddle him the second you felt him shift beneath you, as if he wanted to get up. 

You looked at him for a split second. His face was illuminated by the soft glow of the red light. His distress was apparent. He was thrashing around to try and get you off him when you started hitting his chest over and over again. Your hits weren’t hard nor were they intended to cause any damage to him. In fact, he could have easily pushed you off him effortlessly if he wanted to, but Ethan didn’t even try. Instead, he let you continue hitting his chest.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? You’re… a… fucking… psycho!” Each word was accompanied by another frustrated hit to his chest as tears slowly fell down your face and sobs rattled your body, “You were the only one who knew that. The only person in this goddamn school I ever—ever was stupid enough to tell it to. And you use it for one of your sick and twisted pranks? Fuck you. Fuck you!” 

Your head fell and rested on his chest as you kept on crying. However, your words seemed to pull him back to reality. Only after a few seconds of you speaking, Ethan had already rolled the two of you around until he was on top of you. 

You firmly held his stare as you tried to get him off you. For some strange reason, it sent shivers down your spine to see his eyes so full of fear. Ethan was always centered and glued firmly to the Earth. No matter the issue, he was always capable of keeping his cool, but now was far from being the case. His voice trembled as he tried to speak up, “Shut up Y/N! You’ve got no right to blame me for something that is clearly your doing. I have no fucking clue what your stupid letter said but mine said something that has me convinced it was you!”

His accusation was followed by him shoving his crumpled up letter into your face. You had to squint in order to see it better with only the aid of the red light. When you read the words placed at the very bottom, your eyes went wide and immediately looked for his in a desperate attempt to convince him it wasn’t you, but he had his head turned away. You firmly grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie so he’d look into your eyes, “I-I didn’t. Ethan I don’t like you one bit but I’d never. Not this.”

Ethan scoffed and shook his head. He got off you and turned around so his back was facing you, “You know what? I don’t give a shit what you did or didn’t do. I’m going to wash this disgusting stuff off me and report this in the morning.”

“What the hell? Are you crazy? Ethan, we're in the middle of a crime scene. We cannot leave it like this. I mean, look at you! You’re covered in blood because, let me refresh your mind, you fell into a fucking puddle of blood and found a finger!” You flailed your arms around furiously at his stupidity and started followed him the moment he started walking away, “What if this is real?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at you, “What is real? A threat that looks like it was written by a thirteen-year-old who just finished reading The Analyst? And the blood… it belongs to an animal for all I care,” He didn’t seem an ounce convinced by the way he took a second to come up with an excuse, and he couldn’t even look you in the eyes, “Besides, what do you want us to say, huh? Oh yeah, sorry. We’re out past curfew because of reasons we can’t tell you and we casually found a disembodied finger lying in a pool of blood. Ah! And I almost forgot the most important detail. We’re being threatened with things that are not only good enough to get us expelled but also get us thrown in jail. But everything is fantastic.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, do whatever the hell you please.”

Ethan nodded nonchalantly and walked away from you. A long and deep sigh escaped your lips at his stubbornness. You wanted to scream out in frustration at how stupid he was being, but decided it was pointless to stay behind, just in case someone arrived and found you standing there, with your clothes filled with blood. 

——— ☆ • ♧ • • ♧ • ☆ ———

When you arrived back at the dorms, the first thing you did was take a hot shower as you tried to assimilate everything that had happened. Despite the water being so hot it almost burnt your skin, you still spent the whole time shivering and hugging your arms to your body. 

You had washed the blood off the hoodie in one of the sinks and still threw it in the washing machine afterwards. You didn’t know what was going on and part of you was convinced you didn’t want to know. Either way, you weren’t going to risk being roped into a crime investigation as a suspect.

Afterwards, you collapsed into bed. Your whole body was aching and, if it weren’t for the fact that your phone had exploded with notifications after you connected it, you would’ve fallen asleep. You lazily felt around the small bedside table for your phone and picked it up. Most notifications were just memes Will kept sending to the group chat you had. However, you’d also received a message from Ethan.

Upon reading the first few words, you already felt the urge to throw the phone out the window. He was being annoying, not like that was a new thing at all. You responded to the text nonetheless and left the phone back on the bedside table. You turned around in your bed to try and find a spot that was comfortable and cuddled deeper into the sheets. Then, just when you were about to close your eyes, the phone vibrated again. You groaned and picked it up once more. After reading those texts, you were unable to sleep all night.

——— 

You spent the great majority of the night crying and shivering despite being covered by layers and layers of warm blankets. Those few hours before your alarm sounded extended into what seemed like an eternity and you didn’t want to leave the room, afraid you’d find something like what you’d just seen at the oak tree. 

You only managed to sleep for about half an hour before your alarm went off at exactly six AM. Any other day, you would’ve snuggled back into bed for a little longer, but on that particular day, you’d jumped out of bed and hadn’t wasted a second before getting ready. You’d run out of the building to meet your friends at the dining hall, where you were currently at.

Damiano, Rory, Vic, and Will were already sitting at your usual table in front of the large window when you arrived. The curly-haired boy was practicing for a presentation while your three friends listened and made a few comments here and there on things they thought he should change. 

“Good morning everyone,” You murmured, then took a seat in between Damiano and Will, who turned to look at you and frowned, “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” You nodded and put on the best smile you could manage. Then you stole one of the berries from his plate even though you weren’t hungry at all. 

You turned to look at Rory and Damiano, “Hey Ro, has the new phone you ordered arrived yet?” You questioned. After your conversation with Ethan the previous night, you needed to make sure it wasn’t them who had sent the text. Just the thought alone made you shudder in disgust and fear, but you just took a deep breath in and kept a soft smile on your face as your best friend shook their head.

“Funny that you ask that because yesterday I got an email from the store saying the delivery was going to take longer than expected because of the weather issues, so I gotta survive with this piece of crap for a few more days,” They sighed and placed the cracked phone on the table. You wanted to stop holding back the tears right then and there. Rory’s words were the confirmation that someone else had sent the text and you doubted it was Emilia. As much as you didn’t want to, with each passing second you started to believe the threat was true and that someone had died or was terribly hurt somewhere, and you needed to find them before it was too late to save them. 

Then you remembered another one of Ethan’s texts and had to resist the urge to get up and go search for him because you needed to talk to him as soon as possible. Instead, you distracted yourself by listening to Will’s presentation practice.

You were close to nodding off at some point as he kept on speaking, “Back in earlier civilizations, it was believed that any type of illness was caused by demons and—Hey, Y/N!” You hummed softly as Will called your name. He poked you on the rib and you swatted his hand away, “Are you sure you’re alright? You look terrible.”

“Thank you,” You mumbled sarcastically, “I’m doing fine. I just stayed up working on a project and barely got a wink of sleep,” You let your head rest on Damiano’s shoulder and yawned.

“I wish I were that productive,” Victoria said as she played around with her food. Everyone had insisted on her eating at least a few bites even if she was still sick, “I never do shit.”

Thomas piped into the conversation, catching everyone by surprise as he took a seat next to Victoria, “To be fair, Y/N always complains about feeling half-dead from lack of sleep. I’ll never be crazy enough to sacrifice my sleep for a stupid assignment.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re one project away from failing Year 12,” Victoria laughed and Thomas rolled his eyes, “The other day I put him in charge of finishing this essay thing for philosophy and by the time I went back to check on him, he was already asleep. I honestly still wonder how we’re at this school. I would’ve thrown us out a long time ago.”

“Look who’s decided to join us today!” Damiano exclaimed with a large smile on his face as Emilia and Ethan took a seat right in front of you. It was an unusual occurrence for him to eat with you because, well, you were there and he couldn’t shut his mouth for half an hour while you ate, which usually ended in an argument that made the whole table annoyed. 

You frowned at his appearance. He was struggling to keep his dark eyes open and his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. It was very apparent that he hadn’t slept much either from the bags under his eyes and his slow steps. Ethan was almost like a zombie. 

He shook his head the moment his eyes met yours and your shoulders slumped. It hadn’t been Emilia either. You got up from your seat abruptly and walked away from the table without an explanation. You desperately needed a breath of fresh air before you went insane. So with quick steps, you moved down the hall until you reached one of the open windows next to a couch. You let yourself fall onto the couch and tightly shut your eyes as you breathed the fresh air in.

“You seriously need to calm down. Otherwise everyone will start to notice just how suspicious you’re acting,” You sighed at the sound of Ethan’s irritating voice and up straight on the couch. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hands and looked up at him with an annoyed expression.

“You cannot ask me to calm down after what we saw last night. When will it get into your thick skull that whatever this shit is, it’s real. Those threats were real and if we don’t do something we’re both going to end up in jail, or worse, people are going to die. We don’t know who this psycho is nor what they’re capable of doing. We need to do something now before it’s too late,” The words rushed out of your mouth desperately. The urgency in your tone and your voice quivering as you spoke made his face fall. It wasn’t often that he took you seriously, but by the look in his eyes, you could tell he was just as scared as you were and that was enough to make him shut up and listen to all you had to say.

“Shit Y/N, can you lower your voice? We have no clue at all who could ev—” Before he could even finish the whole sentence, the Head Professor cleared her throat. But your heads snapped in her direction and you gulped in fear at the thought of her overhearing the conversation.

Your heart fell to your stomach the moment she spoke, “Just the two I was looking for. I need you in my office right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you turned to look at Ethan, who already had his head turned in your direction. He nudged his head in the professor’s direction and you both followed her as she walked to her office but stayed a few steps behind.

“This is it, we’re going to jail,” You mumbled loud enough so only Ethan could hear. He hushed you and pulled you along when you stopped walking. People were looking at you as you passed by and that only made you feel worse. You loosened the tie around your neck and gulped.

“We are not going to jail unless you don’t pull it together. Now breathe and keep on walking. I’m not your fucking babysitter,” He whisper-yelled and quickened his pace. You sighed and did the same thing. It surely couldn’t be that bad, could it? You were probably just overreacting and the events of the night before had nothing to do with this impromptu meeting. 

You kept those thoughts in mind as the professor opened the door to the small office and you took a seat on one of the two squeaky chairs. The room smelled clean in a comforting way and you let your shoulders relax as you played with your fingers nervously and looked around the place. 

Her office had always been your favorite out of all the professors’. The place was always warm and during the mornings, you could hear coffee brewing in her old coffee machine in the corner of the room. There were books scattered everywhere and piled in a way that didn’t look messy but inviting. During your first weeks at the academy, when you still hadn’t made any friends, you’d go into her office and read while you sat curled up on the couch and enjoyed the warm and calm atmosphere of the place.

Things used to be so much easier back then and you had no clue how things could’ve changed so fast. Back then your relationship with Ethan was decent and you had no trouble with anyone or anything, now you were being threatened into being framed for murder and being sent to jail.

“You totally forgot about our meeting today, didn’t you?” She asked calmly as she poured coffee into one of her cups, filling the room with the delicious and strong scent. The professor pushed her long dark hair out of her face and straightened out her uniform before sitting down opposite to you, “You looked quite shocked. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”

Ethan sat there, speechless, just like you. But then realization hit you and you realized you were just being paranoid and stupid. She’d told you about this meeting weeks in advance. It was supposed to have something to do with your chance to get the sought-after 100% scholarship to study your career at The Oakes. 

“Nothing important whatsoever,” You replied quickly and sat up straight as you placed both hands on your lap. Ethan copied your actions and tied up his long hair with the black elastic that had been on his wrist.

Your eyes followed the professor as she dumped a small spoonful of sugar and mixed it around with the dark liquid. You couldn’t help but notice her hand shaking as she poured the milk and even spilled a bit of it down the side of the cup. 

She cursed under her breath and apologized as she got up to search for a napkin. With furrowed eyebrows, you shared a look with Ethan, who shrugged. 

“I apologize. I’m afraid I’m quite distracted today, but let’s continue. Shall we?” She smiled sweetly and opened up one of the folders on her desk as she sat back down. She grabbed two papers from inside and placed one in front of each of you. 

You picked it up and examined its content. It seemed to be some sort of permission slip, “So, as I’m sure you both know, our academy offers a program for all our brightest students that gives them the opportunity to continue their college studies with everything paid. You two are the people with the highest grades amongst the whole generation. The semester is—.”

Her words were interrupted by a few quick knocks on the door before a professor pushed it wide open. He couldn’t stop fidgeting with his hands and playing around with his tie as he spoke, “The council wants to have a meeting, professor.”

“I cannot do it right now, I’m—”

“They want to have it now.” 

The professor turned to the two of you nervously and laughed awkwardly. She stood up from the chair after quickly pushing it back, “I’ll see you another day, okay? Meanwhile, please send a scan of that permission slip to your parents and have them sign it, as soon as possible.” 

Once both professors were out of sight and had closed the door, leaving the two of you alone, Ethan spoke, “Something’s wrong.”

“No shit. Neither one could stop shaking. I say we go and try to listen to what the council members are saying,” You suggested and stood up, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit back down.

“We need to go back to the oak tree first. Y/N, if this is all real and there’s something going on, we need to find that body before they do,” He said firmly. Both his tone and stare were serious and you could tell that there was no way in hell he’d take no for an answer. Instead of arguing, you agreed and walked out of the office right behind him, but then you paused as his words registered into your brain, “Why do we have to find it before them?”

He didn’t stop walking to respond, so with a groan you started to walk faster until you were right next to him, “You weren’t even attending the school when it happened,” Ethan began to talk under his breath, so quietly you could barely make out the words he was trying to say, “It was years ago so I cannot remember exactly how the story went. You can ask Thomas though, he has better memory than I do,”

“Either way, there was this boy who’d just gotten into college and during the secret society’s initiation, he was told to climb the highest tower at that campus but he slipped and fell like ten stories. Like I said, it was a secret society that neither the public nor the parents knew about. If the story of what had really happened got out it’d ruin the school and some of the most important students would’ve been sent to jail, so they twisted it to look like a suicide and got away with it. The only reason we know about it is because one of Will’s cousins, the duke, was involved in it all and Will told us all about it.”

“I refuse to believe that’s true. C’mon, it’s Will,” You laughed, “The same guy who convinced everyone in class that your family secretly ran part of the Italian mafia.”

Ethan only shrugged and stopped walking to knock on the door of the greenhouse. You’d left yours at your dorm that morning from how distracted you were, so you had to wait for Mr. Murphy to open up and let you through.

When he finally opened the door, his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked at the two of you in confusion, “What in God’s name has happened to get you two in the same place without fighting?” He mocked. You rolled your eyes and shook your head as a smile appeared on your face.

“I assure you, we can both be perfectly civil. Besides, it’s for a homework we need to do. And believe me it’s the last thing I want to be doing,” You lied and walked into the greenhouse with Ethan following behind, “Anyways, we’re gonna go to the lake to get some water and—”

“I’m afraid you cannot go out there,” He interrupted. You frowned at his words and tilted your head to the side.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Nothing you should care about, kids. Just go to class, yeah? There’s someone coming and if you want to stay out of trouble you better leave before they arrive.”

YOU CAN VOTE ON THIS CHAPTER’S POLL RIGHT HERE. THIS POLL CLOSES AT 12:30 PM CDT ON TUESDAY.

#ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio fanfiction #ethan torchio x you

[campyvillain]

AT LAST YOU HAVE THE VISION TO FIND MY ABOUT....

i’m making this bc i don’t have the energy to go thru making a carrd or separate about page lawl

hi there. call me jackie/stevie/raymond switch it up from time to time yknow. call me whichever one you like most doesn’t matter. he/him only, don’t call me by they/them please.

16, mexican+white (white-passing), tme transmasc acespec butch. don’t call me a woman, i perfer masc terms. autistic, adhd, mentally ill. i love my partner wormie pillbugplushie even when they say something about blood being the gender fluid /lh

so sorry for any typos or anything i have really shaky hands and tbh a lot of the stuff i say is incoherent ramblings. also i have difficultly reading tones and tons of issues w empathy so i can come off as a little mean or cold or my jokes might seem a little puzzling like they only make sense to me but i promise i’m nice. <3

interests.....

^ jack my friend jack do you like him? you better. he is my friend jack twf

special interests: the walten files, phantom of the paradise (best movie ever made), fnaf, character design, cartoons, horror + slashers, splatoon, punk subcultures, plushies, practical gore effects

hyperfixations: fnafvhs series, reanimator, texas chainsaw massacre 1+2, miitopia

normal interests: roller blading, antiques, insects, reptiles and being diabolical and funny and oh so talented!

there’s more i’m probably forgetting lol

dni please god!!!! i use the block button like it was just invented

biphobic/acephobic/panphobic/transphobic etc i could not give a shit less just let people live u cant change my stance on that.

terf/truscum/gender crit

proship/anti-anti/pedo/map

kink/18+/ddlg

anti neopronouns, anti he/him lesbian (thags me bitch!!!) anti she/her gay and so on

fans of: harry potter, dream smp/mcyt, south park, camp camp, aot, hazbin hotel/vivziepop or anything similar to it

racist or any other kind of variant

pro cringe culture

ableist

bootlickers (elon musk defenders, cop supporters you know the drill)

under 14 or over 26

generally if u seem Off or weird lol

if ur someone who’s like “no minor interaction w me pls!! “ but then go out of your way to interact w minors, like those types of ppl

other accs

i’m too lazy to link these by hand by my insta is locksuit i should post there more...anyway byyyee 🖤

oh yea also rb my art it’s really pretty and i work very hard on it you can see it in the my art tag

#about

[washymylifeaway]

SunaOsa fanfic recs: valentines edition~~

SunaOsa is one of my all time favorite ships and this past month, there has been/was an exchange going on between writers (here is the link) and artists (separately) and because I don’t have a life (or maybe it’s just that SunaOsa is my life LOL), I’m here to tell you some of my favorite fics from the pile :D However, as much as I love a ship, sometimes fluff is too asajndajnd so mind you there will probably be a lot of good fics missing just cause I couldn’t get myself to read more fluff (or angst) LOL (IM SORRY but sometimes I also just can’t motivate myself to read a fic no matter how good it looks OOPS).

As always, please check warning and tags before reading any of these fics, and take care of yourselves!!!!

In no particular order (jk the order is last updated haha) tho my favorites will have *** next to them :)

***glass stained black by unrequitedangst (E) 31k // Mafia AU’s are some of my favorite kinds of fics, and this one did not disappoint! The character development of Osamu is really legit and despite being mafia, it’s not that heavy or angst of a fic (but you should still definitely read tags and warnings first). It’s an Osamu heavy fic, and if you’re into reading him being stupid, go right ahead LOL.

redux by catalysis (T) 2.3k // ngl I hate break-up fics with a passion truely (when you can’t handle fluff or angst what to do) but I liked the concept for this one hehe (so I made myself suffer LOL). It was short, but cute !!! and the unspoken words really hit me in the FEELS (so what I’m dramatic fight me LOL).

Impropriety by DeathBelle (T) 5.7k // royalty~ I love the banter between them in this fic and we DO stan respectful Osamu yes we do <33333 The relationships between not only SunaOsa but SunaAtsu (because even though it isn’t really SunaAtsu best friend agenda, I can delude myself into think it is okay :/) are done so well and so nice he’s mean Osamu is best Osamu.

***what are you waiting for? by Slumber (T) 3.7k // MIGHT BE MY FAV FIC FROM THIS EXCHANGE!!! It made me cackle and I love how they learn new things about each other!!!! Like the development is so good and Suna is really doing the MOST!! Also, I love recursive endings AHHHHHH!

agape by sketchedsmiles (T) 11.7k // soulmates, then they were SOULMATES! (ik that’s not how it goes but pls just humor me LOL) This fic really depicted Osamu’s insecurities/internal turmoil/overthinking really well and the realization he has vs Suna’s AHJAFKASFJ. I love confident Suna.

fireside by tartaglia (starkartifices) (T) 3.6k // we do love the subtle flirt flirt don’t we hehe ;) It’s short, it’s fluff, and it’s funny - what more could you ask for? Also whats a vigilante fic if there isn’t at least one pun about being a vigilante LOL.

Over and Over Again by tookumade (G) 6.4k // I would like to order one reassuring, reliable Miya Osamu for myself please and thank you :((( The way the relationship is so GOOD like both Suna and Osamu pick each other up and they know the other has their back ajfhkajdfl. I would purchase all the onigiri with the deal Suna was proposing ;) Onigirintarou.

from here to eternity by TheGlovedArtist (T) 6.6k // I for one am a big fan of mythology and stuff (heroes of olympus but like IDR any of the plot LOL) so of course I read this fic. The snark appearances of Sakusa and Komori gave me LIFE and the difference in descriptions from Astumu and Kita cracked me up. This is another respectful Osamu fic (yes I love these) and in this one it was a ‘I save you as much as you save me’ type beat LOL. Gotta love rings.

***Subtle Inarizaki Dating by sifuhotman (T) 15.2k // THIS ONE. Even if you don’t read the whole thing, I beg of you, please, I AM ON MY KNEES, read the SID for Astumu. It is worth the loss of all your brain calls I guarantee it. It made me giggle so freakin much. Suna might be an A-Hole but he’s OUR A-Hole <3

Forever Begins with 8 Seconds by subtlehues (T) 3.9k // FLUFF hehe, I love their dynamic in this one it’s very good and cute and everything great! Also, I am all for the head cannon that Suna cannot cook, yes pls. Also SUPERPOWERS whooooooooh.

***try again, and again, and again by rosegoldwriting (T) 2.6k // SOULMATES! If you ever wanted a specific soulmate AU! for SunaOsa look no further, it probably comes out LOL. I love this concept of them just being like ‘WTF’ everyday, it gives me life. Also, count how many soulmate AU’s you recognized because I just thought about it and I think it’d be fun LOL. (I went back and I think 11 but I’m not sure LOL)

let us burn by SilverMoonT (G) 13.5k // I am always up for a nice vampire Osamu and witch Suna (which believe it or not, is my second one because I read the other one by this writer LOL) This one is more Suna POV and it really goes into his fears and desires, and I like the way Osamu pushes him to live more freely.

***reasons to microwave an elixir by spiritscript (T) 8.2k // THIS ONE. UGH I love, and it’s funny and cute and it EVEN HAS CRIME (kinda not really but yes)! I love the quiet moments they have and the PET AHHHHHHH! We love medic Osamu :DDDDD But also the betrayal and the sparring (and the irony at the end LOL) AJSKJNFK.

we fall between by stringendos (T) 14.7k // honestly the entire time I was just screaming at my computer, begging for them to hurry up and realize, but alas this is a ~slow burn~ for a reason and the tag ‘exes who act like theyre married’ really is the reason I read it and I do not regret LOL. Also bless Matsuda and stan her.

All the Time in the World by minie_ai (M) 8.8k // we love immortality! Denial! And Suna mentally filing away blackmail against people (namely Astumu) LOL. Running away from your problems is always the answer (I am saying this is a not sarcastic manner because I too, run away from my problems LOL) but ramen is ALWAYS a good answer. We love ourselves some emotional constipation LOL.

***none but you by broikawa (T) 7.2k // everything is a competition always LOL, not that I’m complainin but still LOL EVERYTHING. I really love this one because I love the progression and cock-block SakuAtsu hehe. I love them being synchronized idiots <3

it all comes back to you, (my home) by iritaescents (T) 4.5k // FOREVER, WE STAN FOREVER. Anyway, LOL this was is very very cute and fluff and not slow burn, it fast burn LOL. It’s a cute fic to read and it even has our favorite, now say it with me SOULMATES LOL.

Can't help falling in bed with you by tirralirra (T) 6.7k // here we see a 5 + 1 with points for the title (I think it’s very funny LOL my humor is bad ;)) Not that it really needs extra points because it’s a great fic in itself LOL but I really liked the title so I felt the need to share this with you all (OOPS). This was so cute, and the + 1 is HILARIOUS.

It’s no longer up :(((((( -> love's consequences by xginpuff (T) 6.5k // WARNINGS AND TAGS been a while since we had an angsty fic in this list (LOL the way I just tried to avoid all of them hehe). I read the tags but ngl I was still surprised later LOL maybe I’m just dumb, but anyway IK it starts out a bit confusing, but after you read more, you’ll get into it!

***sunagashi by bastigod (T) 9.8k // if there’s anything I like more than mythology, it’s folklore LOL. I love this fic and the plot is written so artfully AHDSAJN. Also the scene with the Ume-chan and her comment (so snarky I love). Also they way I went through so much trouble trying to figure out the kanji LOL (SPOILER it’s miyarin hehe)

catch me (while i'm still runnin') by lunarins (T) 4.3k // first and foremost, may we have a moment of silence for Komori and his eyebrows..... Continuing, this fic was so good because I love a good heist hehe. Their slight of hand abilities really doing the most LOL, and the ending OMG. I love the way the writer added in how they appeared to others during the heist, it really made it so good! Ugh to have a painting class and almost die LOL.

***if we get this right by Slumber (G) 5k // OLD FRIEND plsplspls I love this fic and I love how Osamu slowly relearns who he knew Suna as AHHH. The ending, again UGH, I really loved it and their banter with one another.

The Study of Suna Rintarou by DeathBelle (T) 6.1k // PLEASE the way Osamu kept getting offended omg. But also the effort Suna puts into getting to know Osamu, I was in ~love~. Read to me Osamu, READ TO ME. But also the Osamu is an oblivious MF agenda is alive and well within this fic hehe.

Take a Hint by pancake_surprise (G) 2.3k // ok so I had just read a tumbr post about the one bed thing and then I saw this fic. It was like the stars aligned okay? I was like, ig I HAVE to read it now hehe. But seriously read it, it’s cute and like everything else, of course there’s a challenge to be made LOL.

Heatwave by pancake_surprise (G) 2.1k // the way they were dating without knowing they were dating man. The tag ‘Didn't Know They Were Dating‘ more accurate than the ‘first dates’ one LOL jk but actually tho am I kidding? It’s the first official one IG. LOL anyway, we do love the doin of the defining of relationships. Yup.

If you made it all the way down here, CONGRATS LOL. Like I said, I didn’t read all of them (sadly) and these were the ones i did read LOL. I might add more depending on whether I can motivate myself into reading fics I know will be good LOL so we’ll see heh. Honestly, I thought I was gonna get word counted, but YAY we finished (for now hehe). Also sorry for any possible typos (is this no beta we die like men?) I’m running on 90 min of sleep so my engrish be strugglin LOL. Be safe and wear masks :)

#haikyuu fanfic rec #haikyuu fic recs #sunaosa #osasuna #do people even use that ship name? #I think SunaOsa superiority #it flows more nicely hehe #anyway #this is like the fifth time I made another post while making a different post #like #do I have issues with finishing one post at a time? #apparently #manga #fic #ficrecs #read pls #pls read them #is it worth it? yes #LOL #valentines #haikyuu #hq #hq fic rec

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

red, white, blues in the skies, summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes

summary: Can you write a daddy kink and spanking fic with Steve? Hes all about it at first but then all hell breaks lose🥵🥵 You know you said somewhere that Steve's so respectful when fucking you and so THOROUGH. Thank you😘😘 --requested by @donutloverxo

i just want to take a moment to thank you so much for messaging me a while back when my friend moved to california. it was a sad night for me but your messages honestly made me feel better. even the ransom one, which i still need more details on. is he okay? i feel like he would cry. anyway, hope you like this!

warnings: everything. anal. choking. spanking. biting, mentions of blood maybe. don’t judge me. hair pulling. breath play. major daddy shit, you know, the usual.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

a/n: so sorry for any typos! i am about to be late for a tattoo appointment! and for that reason, I know i missed some of the people who asked me to tag them in my chris evans fics so i apoloize! so if i did pls message me and i promise i will add you to my tag list in my phone asap!

The question of how you got here—bent over Steve’s thighs, your ass propped up, stripped naked—could have been given many, varying answers, depended on who you asked. Steve would claim it was attitude, sheer disrespect. You would credit it to him not paying enough attention to you. Why you got here, that only had one answer. Because you wanted to be here.

It started last night. You were out with Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and Okoye. Okoye and Bucky were, when drunk, very simply, philosophical hippies. They wanted to talk about the universe and how we were all destroying the planet and each other. Sam just got plain annoying and needed to annoy Wanda. It was the weirdest thing, he just needed to get on her nerves. He would get competitive about who was drinking more, he would challenge her to anything. Darts, once, a race back to the compound another. That ended terribly, but neither seemed capable of recalling that past a certain level of alcohol intake.

That left Steve, this authoritative presence—always able to get you wet, but when you were drinking, your friends were surrounding you, acting like children, and he was just there, you were hopeless. He was strong and always so sure of himself, that was what you loved most about him.

Everyone was scattered around the bar. You had disappeared for the restroom and once you got out, Wanda and Sam wrangled you into a conversation about who was a better lead on missions.

Steve was at the table, his phone in sight because he was Captain fucking America. He was the most important man in existence and he always needed to be available for his country, or the world, more accurately. That used to be an issue, before Thanos, before they fixed everything. That used to strain your relationship, never knowing when he was going to be called away. It was rare now, so rare, but his habits were tough to break. He had a beer bottle in his hands, sipping here and there, but mostly, he was watching you. Only you. He came out to be a babysitter, but it was barely a job he took seriously.

He just wanted to be with you.

You made your way to him after it seemed Wanda and Sam had forgotten you were there at all. He set his beer down on the table and took your hips. It was a move of pure control, you couldn’t get away from him, but you also couldn’t get closer to him. “What do you say? Should we call it a night?”

“It’s been an hour,” he pointed out.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s why you haven’t been drinking much.”

“I missed you, daddy.” Daddy? It was a key to the lock that sometimes was Steve Rogers. Was there anything you couldn’t get him to do while you were calling him daddy?

“How much?”

You scoffed. “What?”

“How much did you miss me?”

“What kind of question is that? I miss you a lot when you’re gone. I ache until you’re back home, falling asleep with me, waking up with me. I understand that you’re a Cancer but you’re being so extra right now.”

“No, I’m just being curious.”

“Do you need me to show you how much I missed you?”

“What if I do?”

“Then I will do anything you ask,” you guaranteed, “I would get on my knees right now, daddy. I would let everyone watch me choke on your cock, let them all watch you fuck my face.”

He nodded once. “I don’t think such a grand display is necessary. Especially given that I could just watch you fucking a toy last night, despite my clear instructions that you were not allowed to.”

Your face flushed. “You…were watching me?”

So, it had been a mutual decision to set up a camera in the bedroom. When he was gone and he could call, it just made phone sex easier. When he came home, that sex was always something else. You liked watching it from time to time. However, he was not supposed to be using it to make sure you weren’t breaking rules! That wasn’t fair, that was a major invasion of privacy.

“Yes, I was watching. I missed my baby girl, wanted to see her beautiful face, her stunning fucking body.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Were you going to lie to me?” he questioned. “If I came home and asked you if you had listened to me, what would you have said?”

You glared. “I guess we’ll never know.” You turned on your heels to return to Sam and Wanda, but he grabbed your arm and yanked you back to him.

“Daddy didn’t tell you that you could walk away.”

“Steve,” you warned.

He scoffed. “So, you messed up and now you’re going to be a brat with me?”

“We’re not doing this here.”

“No?” he feigned confusion, reaching for his phone. He tapped the screen a mere three times before turning it to you.

Right—you had stupidly let him talk you into shoving a vibrator in your pussy before you headed out. You’d thought that just meant he missed you incredibly. Clearly not. “Don’t,” you said.

He scoffed. “Baby, I know you didn’t just tell me what to do.”

You glanced back to make sure your friends were preoccupied. “I don’t want to do this tonight, okay? I’m tired and I missed you, you were gone for a long time and I just wanted you to come home so we could spend the night together and have fun. I didn’t think you were going to invade my privacy—”

“Invade your privacy?” he interjected. “You have no privacy, doll, because you’re mine. Normally, you’re fine with that. But you were misbehaving and you need to be punished, so now you suddenly want to pretend it’s a problem? Your dramatics won’t save you tonight.”

He knew you well. And you knew him, he wasn’t going to drop this game. If you said no for an entire year—which, just to be clear, you did not have the ability to do—he would just punish you that very second you finally said yes because he could hold a grudge like it was nothing. Better to get on with it, before he decided to just stop all sexual activity. “Fine. What first?”

“Would you have lied to me?”

“Technically, no.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Can’t wait to hear this one.”

“Well, you always know when I’m lying, so is it lying?”

“Yes, it is. Don’t say something to me if it’s not true.”

You finally moved closer, taking one of his hands in both of yours. He watched you carefully, ready to stop you if you made a single move he didn’t like. You turned his hand and kissed his palm several times. “I love you.”

He scoffed. “And I love you. That doesn’t mean I’m not spanking you until your ass is several different shades of red.”

You huffed. “Well, can we get it over with?”

“No,” he scoffed. “Definitely not.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew that would only provoke more of this nonsense.

He turned to the phone again.

“Steve, not in front of everyone—” your words cut off with a yelp before you pressed your hand flat over your lips, desperately trying to silence the sounds you were making. The toy lying against your skin, set just right thanks to the very tiny, tight panties he placed you in, abruptly began to vibrate at a speed you were not prepared for.

Steve caught your arm and kept you steady. “Don’t call me Steve again,” he directed. “Not tonight, doll.”

You only let your hand slip when you couldn’t handle it anymore and needed to speak, not when you had the confidence you wouldn’t humiliate yourself. “Daddy, please—”

“Already begging to come?” He turned it up and one of your legs buckled, he kept a hold on you, mistrusting your ability to stand on your own.

“No, no,” you blurted out. “Stop, please—”

“Apologize.”

You snorted, eyes widening when you realized what you had just done. “I’m—”

And once more, the speed picked up. You grabbed the edge of the table for balance even though you knew he wouldn’t let you fall. You shot him a desperate look and he finally took pity on you, turning off the vibrator all together.

“You’re in for a rough night,” he informed you.

You pretended that was the last thing you wanted to hear, you pretended that you were upset, annoyed, exhausted. That was so far from reality. It had been a while since he went all out to punish you, you almost forgot how much you liked it. But standing there, hoping no one knew what was going on, you were quickly reminded.

Only, when you got home, you didn’t get your rough night. Well, not the one you wanted but his satisfied smirk told you this was what he had always meant. He watched you undress and remove your makeup, then he spent a cruel amount of time just kissing you everywhere, except the one place you needed him the most.

He tied your wrists and ankles to the bedpost. You were sure he was going to fuck you, make you so stupid and obedient that a sincere apology would just fall from your lips. You were wrong.

Instead, Steve elected to get himself off several times and cover you with his cum. You weren’t complaining about that, you loved feeling it on your skin. Your issue was when he untied you and told you to get in the shower before you both turned in for the night. He didn’t even get in with you.

While you were in the bathroom, he took the liberty of picking out what you were going to wear. You couldn’t be much of a tease in a simple oversized t-shirt—which wasn’t his—and leggings. You kept your back to him the entire night, but he circled his arm around you and held you like he was scared he was going to lose you, regardless of your clear anger.

It didn’t end there. When you woke up, he kissed you. It was the kind of kiss that always prefaced something, it was the kind of kiss he always gave you when he came home from a mission—a message of ‘I missed you’.

But as you were pushing on his stomach to get him on his back, he pulled away. He explained to you that he was still upset that you disobeyed him. He gave you the option, he could spank you now and fuck you later, or he would wait until you apologized and meant it.

It was an awful way to wake up, added to the frustration of the night before, your response was rude and vulgar. He merely smirked, kissed your forehead, and slipped out of bed.

Training shirtless in December. Getting way too close whenever he needed to walk by you or around you. Constantly touching you or doing things with his hands when he knew you were watching because he knew you were addicted to his fucking hands. He was shameless. And mean. And you were limited on options because you needed to have sex with this man! But you also wanted to keep your pride intact.

It was like this for several days and just one night less. He would torture you in front of everyone because he knew you weren’t going to act out. Then, the nights were strict. He made you shower alone, made you dress yourself in bland, old clothing, and then it was nothing but actual sleep.

The night it all changed was another night out, only it was a Stark party and that meant the whole gang was going. He couldn’t tell you what to wear if you avoided him all day, so you did. You spent all your time with Wanda and Nat. It was an obscenely early breakfast, then shopping, then brunch because alcohol was needed, and more shopping, up until the team was getting ready for another—undoubtedly—eventful outing.

In your skin-tight, tiny pink dress, Steve was slipping. You could see it in the way he looked at you, in the way his hands were fisted at his sides, his set jaw, and his squared shoulders. Control was fleeting and you were nothing short of smug, which only made him more determined to fight back.

He drove you to Tony’s because you both were trying to appear normal to everyone else. They always made their jokes about the games you two played, so discretion was a must. The aspect of getting caught and not just blatantly being shameless also played a role behind your secrecy.

He inquired about your day because he wanted you to admit what you did. Instead, you were almost wholly honest, you told him that you wanted to spend time with the girls. He didn’t buy it, but he wasn’t going to call you out, not while you were alone. You took advantage of his silence and divulged secrets told to you that you probably shouldn’t have—but this was Steve, he would never tell a soul.

“Wanda says Vision is terrible at going down on her.”

He shot you a look. “Can you not tell me these things about my teammates?”

“Will you help him, baby?”

His eyes went comically wide. “What?”

“You’re just so good at it.”

“You’re insane.”

You sighed. “Fine, just let Wanda suffer.

“I will.”

He was clearly uncomfortable, and you were enjoying it immensely. “Nat says Bucky is really, really good.”

He sighed. “I didn’t want to know that.”

“But I’m sure no one is better than you…remember the last time you ate me out?”

He scoffed. “Pretty sure we were going to a Stark party…it’s been too long.”

“I don’t mind,” you claimed. “I’m always the one that is too impatient to let you, anyway.”

“I always have to tie you up,” he muttered almost more to himself. “But if you were trying to get on my good side…”

“What?”

He jerked the steering wheel right and sped into a parking lot.

“Steve, what are you doing?”

He turned off the car and looked at you. “If you behave now, you might get a reward tonight.”

“Steve, we’re going to be late. The team gets mad when we’re late.”

He didn’t look worried at all. He began angling your body toward him, hands sliding down your sides until he reached your hips. He pulled you closer to the edge of the seat and you took the cue to lean against the door. “Open your legs for me.”

You curled on leg around the side of the seat and pressed the opposite out as far as you could. This was not a good idea, but when were you ever going to say no to him telling you to open your legs? Most days, they just fell open for him.

He ran his hands back up your thighs to move the dress out of his way, smirking as you shivered.

You didn’t care anymore, about anything. You couldn’t stop staring at his lips, completely willing to forget all the shit he had put you through the past few days. His mouth could make you do anything, all he ever had to do was ask.

He started by kissing your thighs because he wanted you to snap at him, to tell him to hurry up. You wouldn’t—screw the team. You would just have to bring up all the times they were late.

His eyes flit up to you several times make sure he had you absolutely wrecked with all his teasing. Your thighs were shaking, tired from how you were using them, but you always knew that he made it worthwhile.

When he finally pressed just the gentlest kiss to your pussy, you shuddered. “Daddy,” you whined. “Please eat my pussy.”

He hummed as if he was contemplating.

“Please, daddy,” you whined. “Please, it’s been so long. I miss it.”

“You don’t prefer the beard?” he challenged knowingly. The beard didn’t always make sense for his cover, sometimes he had to get rid of it. You never let him do so without fucking you just one last time—rough, fast, dirty.

“No,” you denied. “I do not prefer it.”

He arched an eyebrow, ending all those small kisses he was scattering along your skin. “Really?”

“I prefer you, Steve Rogers. Beard, no beard. Long hair, short hair. I don’t care what you look like. I just know, every second of every day, I want you to be fucking me.”

He hummed, tried to pretend it didn’t matter. But it did, because Steve needed a partner that needed him. Not in that gross, misogynistic way most men were guilty of. He needed a partner that sometimes couldn’t think straight, that sometimes couldn’t complete the simple task of living until he was inside them. “Good answer.”

You smiled. “I’m aware.” You fit those requirements well. Yes, you were good and wanted to please him. However, you were also greedy and demanding and sometimes, you threw fits and tantrums, sometimes, you refused to do what you needed to do until he made you come. You felt zero shame about wanting and needing him and you knew the simple fact of desiring him specifically always got him off.

“You really are my good girl,” he feigned realization, as if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear a million times over.

“Yes, I am.”

“And my good girl wants her pussy eaten?”

“Yes, I do.”

He kissed his way up your thigh again and finally, turned to your cunt. He kissed you several more times as you squirmed, then licked up slowly as his eyes were locked on yours.

You shuddered. “Daddy, that feels so good.”

“If you weren’t being such a good girl, I would spank you for not wearing underwear.”

You smiled.

He repeated that same touch several times, looking more and more pleased every sound you made, every jerk of your hips. It was all slow, all calculated movement designed to pleasure you just enough, but not enough. He just wanted to taste you and tease you, and you didn’t mind any of it. This is the most time Steve has spent on you in a while, you were just enjoying his attention.

You were 40 minutes late, messed up hair, flushed cheeks, shaky legs because he didn’t let you come—and everyone knew exactly what it was that had made you late, exactly what you had prioritized over them.

You were insane. You had been driven to that point by Steve Rogers, Captain America—he was a cruel man not that selfless hero everyone got to see. He’d taken you so close to that edge so many times, promised if you were patient that he would make it all up to you.

When he finally lifted your hips and buried his face between your thighs, you were sure your finish was coming. He sucked on your clit mercilessly, tongue swiping out a few times to gather the arousal leaking down your pussy. When you let him know you were close, he set you down on the seat again and told you to put your seatbelt back on.

He had done this before but maybe it was all that time that he had been gone. Maybe it was that his face was wet, his lips redder and fuller than usual, and that he simply smirked and wiped the back of his hand over his skin. It was just different. He was not going to get away with it.

You didn’t say a word for the rest of the drive. Even though he was cooing at you the entire time about how you were his doll and you were beautiful, and he claimed to love you so much. He kept touching your hair and your arm, but you wouldn’t budge.

When Bucky threw you a pitiful look, the whole plan just sort of fell into place. You couldn’t really be blamed, right? He couldn’t consider it your fault—no, at this point, he had to know that anything you did in response to his disproportionate punishment was all on him. He left you alone, didn’t fuck you, didn’t let you come—flirting with Bucky was well within your rights.

It started simple. Bucky was trying to warm up to his metal arm more—the next step in his therapy—and you liked helping. This wasn’t that, necessarily, but you could say you were killing two birds with one stone. You simply walked right up to him and draped his arm around your shoulders. You knew your boyfriend wouldn’t like it because that was what you did to him, it was one of the many ways you liked asking him for attention without using words.

Steve eyed you for nothing more than a second, and neither of you acknowledged it any further, but you knew it bothered him. You’d been given quite a powerful gift one night when Steve had you pressed to the wall, chest to your back, hand to your throat as he fucked you from behind. He had admitted that he was being so complicated—that was a week of hell, one you always shuddered thinking about because you couldn’t walk straight a few days after—because he didn’t like how he felt whenever you would just disappear with Bucky. He promised he wasn’t accusing either of you of anything, it just reminded him of how things used to be with his best friend. You didn’t like flirting with Bucky, but after what Steve had done, it was deserved.

Apparently, he wasn’t too angry since he was on you as soon as you and Bucky separated. He held you as close as possible until he talked you into going outside. Stark parties were always crowded and loud and it wasn’t rare that people would be nearly glued to the side of the building and one another, practically having sex with their clothes on. But it was rare that you and Steve were some of those people.

Yet, he was not hesitant. He led you outside, his fingers linked between yours. As soon as he could, he turned back to you and caged you against the building with his forearms on either side of your head.

He made no further moves, he just watched you. Your skin was itching with desire, but you wouldn’t let him know that. “Did you want something, daddy?”

He smirked a little, shaking his head. “Not much. I just wanted you to know that I’m aware you’ve been good.”

You smiled unintentionally, but it felt nice that he knew you were being good, knew that you wanted something very specific. Him, completely to yourself, just one night. You deserved it.

He leaned down and you tilted your head back to meet his kiss. “Well,” his lips brushed over yours, “that was until you decided to be a brat with Bucky.”

You pulled back, pouting at him.

He arched an eyebrow, challenging you to protest.

“Well, if you’re not going to touch me—”

“I was going to reward you for your patience. Good thing I decided to wait.”

“Are you kidding? I waited for you to come back and then your stupid mission got extended by three days—three, so I broke on the last night. Big deal. Then you get here and you don’t fuck me, and don’t even get me started on the shit you just pulled. I wanted attention and affection and Bucky seemed willing to provide.”

One of his hands wrapped around your throat, his thumb massaging over your pulse point. “So, your grand solution, if I’m not giving you what you want, is to run to Bucky?”

“What if I say yes?”

He glanced around before tightening his hand and looking down at you. “If you say yes, then I’m going to punish you. I’m going to take you to the side of this building, in the alley, get you on your knees, and make you remind me how much you love me. So, baby doll, what’s your answer?”

It was as if he thought you wouldn’t enjoy every second of that. “My answer is yes,” you claimed. “If you’re not giving me attention, I’ll get it from Bucky.”

He took another quick look around before dragging you into the alley just like he said he was going to. Before you could say a word, he was tearing off his jacket to toss onto the floor. He pressed you down onto it by your shoulders, hands then flying to his pants.

By the time you were comfortably settled, hands safely on his thighs, Steve had his cock out for you. Eyes on his, you opened your mouth and swallowed as much of him as you could, slowly because you needed some type of upper hand.

He didn’t let you keep it for long, however. His hand settled at the back of your head and he began fucking your throat like someone who wasn’t just pretending to be angry. Like someone who wasn’t just being the most extra fucking person because he had wanted this the very second that he’d returned home.

You knew better, you always did. He wasn’t mad, you weren’t sincerely flirting with Bucky, you wouldn’t do it again, but he wouldn’t mind if you did—given that you didn’t cross any lines. It was a fun game, but it was time to end this. All this fighting over him watching you, the power struggle, it was done. You just wanted this man to fuck you. You would surrender and you wouldn’t mind it one bit when he had you in bed later that night.

It had to be fast, he couldn’t let you tease. There were people around, people who would undoubtedly gravitate toward the alley. It was pure luck that it was empty at all, but he wasn’t going to waste time being grateful. He was rough sliding in and out of your throat, these quiet grunts just barely audible through all your gagging and the noise of the outside, the people, the cars.

By the time he finished, your throat was sore, tears began running down your cheeks all the way to your neck, drool was starting to slip from your lips. You were a mess, on your knees in an alley, all for Captain fucking America. You never dreamed of being this cool when you were younger, but sometimes things just worked out.

He had leaned onto the brick wall behind you with his forearm, eyes slammed shut, mouth hanging open as he caught his breath.

You waited patiently, despite your declining oxygen and your growing desperation for it. You swallowed when you could, tried breathing through your nose calmly, you didn’t want to have to tell him to pull out. You wanted to keep him for as long as he wanted you to, you wanted him to tell you that you were good with those heart eyes that he always got when you sucked his cock.

He began running his fingers down your hair. “Clean me up, baby.”

You did so as well as you could, but he barely gave you sufficient time before he was pulling you onto your feet.

He leaned in almost immediately to reach down, under your skirt to slide your panties down your legs. You lifted your feet when he needed you to, but mostly, just stupidly stood there. He wasn’t going to fuck you out here, was he? He was a risk-taker, you’d give him that, but an actual gambler? Not quite on that level yet.

He stood, pressing the lace to your chin to dry your face of spit and tears. He was so soft about it, so different than how he had been just moments ago. You watched his face the entire time, blushing terribly at how intently he was staring at you.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You did so, fully expecting him to kiss you. Instead, he shoved your panties between your lips and was turning away before you could blink. He tucked himself back into his pants with such ease, ease that only came from having super-hearing and knowing for sure that he wasn’t going to be caught.

So, yeah. Long story short, you pushed Steve too far and now he was mad. More than the average amount. Honestly, did he expect you not to retaliate? After he left you alone in the alley without calling you his good girl? If he didn’t see it coming, then he didn’t know you as well as you thought he did.

But he did know you enough. His rough hands had been moving over your ass for the better part of an hour. He’d positioned you in the bedroom so you could see the clock, he wanted you to see that he intended to take him time. He hadn’t spanked you yet and you were just about shaking in anticipation, you knew he had to feel how wet you were.

Yet, he didn’t say a word. He didn’t let you either, any attempt was cut off by some disapproving noise and you were too scared to push him more. Not after what you did…

But you were also impatient. You weren’t trying to be disobedient or argumentative, but you had to communicate with him. He was driving you insane, you weren’t sure you could do this much longer. You cleared your throat a bit. “Daddy—”

“Baby girl, one more time and daddy will have to gag you.”

You immediately shut up. You didn’t want to be gagged. You noticed that when you were less vocal, he was less vocal, and at the end of it all, what was the point of all the theatrics if he wasn’t going to praise you?

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head.

You just wanted to hear it. That you were good, that he was proud of you. Instead, without warning, his hand struck one side of your ass and you were so surprised that you yelped.

Your hands rushed to your mouth as you turned back over your shoulder slightly to eye him. You saw him smirk, this was obviously what he wanted, but then he tsked at you. “I’m sorry, daddy, I was just surprised. I’ll be quiet, I swear.”

He let his palm rub over the red mark across your skin. He hummed, feigning thought. “I don’t know, doll.” His opposite hand came up to grab your jaw, turning your attention forward again.

You were opposed to the gag, but if he wanted to choke you… You brought both your hands up to his forearm and pressed against it until his hand slid down a bit, settling confidently to your throat.

He scoffed. “Want me to choke you?”

You nodded.

“You can speak.”

“Please, daddy,” you begged.

“After all the misbehaving? Do you honestly think you deserve it?”

“Yes.”

He snorted. “Okay.” His hand wrapped around your neck, so suddenly that the surprised noise you made got caught in your throat. The next time he smacked you, your moan was choked, barely audible.

You were immediately relieved. You weren’t going to have to try to be quiet. He always treated that part like a game, if he told you to be quiet, he would then do whatever he could to make you get loud.

He was hitting harder than usual, hard enough that the only thing keeping you draped over his lap was his hand in front of you that was wound around you. You didn’t mind at all, you always wanted him to let go a little. But of course, he was Steve, and he couldn’t stop being overprotective if his life depended on it.

That he wasn’t more concerned with checking in on you was testament to how angry you’d made him. The thing with Bucky was clearly a game, Steve knew you were just making some cheap shots to get his attention. Taking you outside and getting you to suck him off was just him indulging you.

This was not that. You were being punished and his greatest source of irritation seemed to be that you were completely unapologetic. Also, there was the pride aspect, that you had done this in front of the team. If he couldn’t keep you in check, what kind of a leader was he?

But he most certainly couldn’t control you, not unless you wanted to let him. Mostly, he seemed to like that, seemed to like the challenge, the power struggles, the attitude. However, tonight, when you were dancing with Wanda, he seemed a bit…opposed. Wanda herself had been mad at Steve because of a little disagreement they had during their last mission. She was playing to win and if your sore aching ass was any indication, she had.

You always danced with Wanda, you danced with all your friends. But see, Wanda could read minds and that didn’t always produce the best scenarios. She knew you were desperate for an upper hand and she was just crazy enough to help you get it. It started fun like it always did when the girls were free of the boys, but then her hands were on your hips. Yet, you were fine, you knew Steve wouldn’t like it, but oh well.

Then, she spun you around, your back to her chest, and you were facing Steve. And well, she let her hands wander. You had been drinking a little, it was thrilling watching Steve watch you, knowing that he was going to make tonight hell for you.

He was beautiful, sat there, contemplating, strategizing, waiting with the restraint of a god. This was one of those moments when he just couldn’t turn off Captain America, when one was blending into the other. You never minded that. You loved Steve first, of course, but Captain America was just right after that.

You were excited when he calmly got onto the floor almost an hour later and told you it was time to go. You had to bite your tongue to stop the giggles and the words you desperately wanted to say as he took your hand and led you outside. Your body was humming with energy as he drove you back to the compound, hand firmly on your thigh.

He told you he could smell you, your pussy, how terribly you wanted him. He carried you to his room, knowing that your legs were weak and that if given the option, you’d beg him to fuck you in the hall. It was the start of your submission, you both loved it when he handled you like it was nothing.

By the time he yanked your panties down, you were already crying and shaking, your entire body throbbing for a release. Some of your tears had rolled down your cheeks and onto his thigh, and he could feel your knees buckling despite you trying to stand for him. He always ordered you to stay on your feet no matter how useless it was, no matter that even in heels, draped over his huge body, your feet barely touched the ground.

He stopped spanking you only to grab one of your hands from his forearm, dragging it down. “Touch your clit.”

It was nothing short of awkward positioning. You had to reach under his thigh and back up to where your cunt was. You had to angle your ass up just a little to have access, and he took that to mean that you wanted him to smack you harder.

He leaned down, kissing your head. “You’re okay?” He let your neck go just a little, a sign he wanted you to use words.

You nodded, clearing your throat. “Yes, daddy.”

“Don’t stop touching your clit until I tell you. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“And you better not come.”

“Okay.”

“If you do either of these things, I will tie you up and spank you for the rest of the night. I won’t fuck you, I won’t make you come.”

You nodded again. “Okay.”

You were slow about it, worried that you might work yourself up too quickly. He only just started with this, he wasn’t going to let it go for at least 30 minutes. He smacked you the entire time. It was heavy and noisy, and never failed to make your hips jolt so much that your clit was constantly moving out of reach before you panicked and set yourself back in the correct place.

“Rub your clit faster, doll.”

“Daddy—”

He reached down to take your hand, pressed firmly on your clit, and spoke over the moan that fell from your open mouth. “Do it like that, don’t make me tell you again.”

Even when he moved his hand, you continued. Your moans were strangled but loud enough for him. “Daddy, I’ll come like this.”

“Don’t,” was all he said and followed with another strike across your ass.

“Daddy, please, I’m going to come.” Your thighs were already shaking, that pressure in your lower body was building, threatening to bloom into a numbing orgasm. “Daddy, I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” Another smack. “Aren’t you my good girl?” And another. “Don’t you wanna make daddy proud?” Another.

“Yes, daddy, but it feels too good,” you blurted out.

“My decision has been made.” He hit you twice more before you started to panic.

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you whined. “I’m really sorry, please let me stop!”

He settled one hand over your ass cheek and removed his hand from your neck to take your hand away from your pussy. “Baby, make it a good apology or we will start all over.”

You pulled your joined hands up and started kissing his knuckles. “I’m sorry, daddy, I promise I am.”

“For what?” he asked slowly. “Say all of it.”

“For flirting with Bucky.”

He smacked you again and you hissed. “How did you flirt with Bucky?”

“I let him touch me.”

Once more. “And why is that wrong?”

You waited until your skin stopped stinging before you spoke. “Because only you should be touching me.”

He hummed and his hand came down again. “Go on.”

“And for dancing with Wanda.”

“You wanted to make daddy mad, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted.

“Because you wanted to be spanked,” he accused.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“How’s that working out for you, doll?”

“It was fun for a while,” you admitted.

He snorted. “You’re a god damn brat.”

You kissed his hand again. “Your brat?”

He rolled his eyes, but you could see he was trying to fight a smile. “Yeah, mine. No one else should touch you, no one else should be dancing with you.” He finally pulled you up, quickly setting you so that you straddled him. He touched your face with both hands, looking over you carefully.

Your hands went to his pants and you began moving them out of the way.

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “I know you’re not doing that without permission.”

Biting your lip, you shrugged and pressed your palm against his cock through the pants.

He spanked you again and you crashed into him. Your knees slipped from the mattress and you frantically caught onto his shoulders. He gave you no time to recover, instead, rolled over so you were under him. “You know what I want to hear, doll.”

You did know. As much as you wanted him to praise you, he wanted you to tell him you loved him. But, again, you truly were a brat and sometimes decided to withhold such an admission. “I love you, daddy.”

“I love you, too.”

You brought a hand up to his face. “Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?”

“I’m gonna ruin you, baby doll,” he corrected. “First, I’m gonna eat your pussy and let you come. Then, I’m gonna fuck your pussy until I’m not hard anymore. Then I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I’m ready to fuck your ass.”

You would place money on the absurd idea that he’d somehow gotten a degree in teasing. Pathetically, you clutched at his shirt. “Please?”

He smirked. “Anything you want, baby girl.”

You yanked the hem up his back and he assisted you in taking it off. You kissed him hungrily, open-mouthed, moaning, yanking on his lip with both of yours.

He wasted no time, spared no warning, offered no preparation time. Abruptly, two of his thick fingers were inside your pussy and you were crying out, throwing your head back, body arching up closer to his. He started kissing your face, down the faint tear tracks that resulted from the prior spanking.

Again, he ordered against your skin, “say it again.”

“I love you,” you blurted out, hips rolling up to get him in further. “Daddy, I love you so fucking much.”

As his fingers curled, he kissed down your face, your neck, all the way down to one of your breasts. “Touch the other,” he directed, and didn’t close his mouth around your nipple until your hand had cupped your neglected breast.

He sucked hard, pressed his fingers hard, held you down with his hips hard. Everything about him was hard and rough and determined. He took you there fast, to that place where your body was shaking, these whiny, small noises couldn’t stop pouring out of you if your life depended on it, your hips jerking, your pussy clenching, stars behind your god damn eyes.

“I’m close, daddy. Can I come?”

He bit into your skin instead of answering, perfect teeth surrounding your nipple, a fucking threat. Did he actually think you didn’t want him to dig his teeth into you?

Your second hand came up to the back of his head where you fisted his hair and pressed him down more. “Harder, daddy, harder.”

He let his teeth pinch you just a tad more, concern clear in his actions.

“Harder,” you repeated.

Again, he gave you what you asked for, and pressed a third finger inside you. It was a delicious, disorienting, blissful stretch that you had to spread your legs to try to take.

“Harder,” you ordered, tone sharp, maybe a little condescending.

His fingers began pounding into you, wet noises echoing from your pussy. Finally, you were sure his teeth had pierced your skin.

You screamed so loud you were sure the entire floor heard you—distantly, you spared thought to who was going to give you a rough time at breakfast. Your orgasm followed almost instantly, and Steve fucked his fingers into you until you were mewling and brushing your fingers through his hair. You couldn’t say much at the moment but that little gesture never failed to stroke that unspoken part of Steve—which you had always known about—that also liked praise.

He turned up to you and you saw him lick his lips, maybe you’d seen a flash of red, maybe you’d just imagined it. Your breast stung, you thought you might have felt something drip down your skin… He pulled you up with him, hand on your arm, his other hand touching your lips, giving you a little taste of what your pussy had left behind on his fingers.

Before you could say a word, Steve was getting you on your knees and pushing you toward the headboard. You were confused by it but since you were still reeling from your last orgasm, you decided to trust him. He kept you facing away from him and you didn’t understand why until your wrists were being tied to the headboard. He took your hips and yanked you back and it was then you thought maybe you knew what he was doing. Your ankles were next, which was a long process given that you were so far away from the next spot on the bed that could hold a rope.

You were uncomfortably angled, body pulled tight. It was his favorite way to eat you out, you were completely exposed to him, unable to pull yourself away if he was overstimulating you. How he got back under you is another part of this that you were unclear on, anticipation now clouding your ability to logical thoughts.

His hands slid up your thighs, over your ass, clasped around your waist and then he pulled you down almost violently, clearly unconcerned about the way that pulled at both your arms and legs. You didn’t mind much either.

Once more, he didn’t bother with any of that elaborate shit. You weren’t built up, you weren’t led to an orgasm. He ate your pussy like it was the only thing he knew how to do. He alternated between running his tongue through you—prodding your entrance just slightly, then over your clit, back down and the same, over and over—to sucking your clit between his lips, moaning, sighing, making all of these appreciative noises that only added to all the sensations.

His fingers dug into your skin, your ribs painfully, your limbs were aching, but you knew it didn’t matter. Even if you told him all of this, even if you could make yourself care—as if you could focus on anything but his mouth—he wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied.

Your first finish was slow, a somewhat drawn-out process that he worked to keep you on the edge of for just a few moments. He wasn’t teasing, necessarily, but he needed to remind you, in this state of hazy pleasure, that your body was wholly his. You squeezed your eyes shut, yanked on the ropes because that was the only thing you could do, and once again, reminded him that you loved him.

The second orgasm felt nearly immediately after—though, time distantly existed to someone as satisfied as you. You were trying to relax, worried you would spend yourself before you got fucked. He didn’t stop, he didn’t slow, if anything, he was faster, more skilled. He sucked at your skin roughly, a demand because he was getting impatient.

You were a whimpering, crying mess, begging him in half sentences because you were unable to articulate fully what you wanted. Your pussy spasmed, clenching in desperate need to be filled as he focused solely on your clit. You screamed things that you knew he would be smug about for days to come, how good you felt, how badly you needed only him, how much you wanted to be on his cock because he had the best cock in the world.

Prior to you, Steve thought he didn’t need to hear such biased things from a lover. But since he couldn’t get drunk, this was basically the only drug he could indulge in and get something out of.

This was around the time you started to worry, because again, you were offered no recovery time. He flicked his tongue over your clit regardless of your pleas for a break, regardless of how desperately you pulled on the ropes, regardless of the tears rolling down your cheeks. It was too much, you couldn’t come again.

He brought his hand up and spread your cunt, tongue continuing back and forth over that sensitive spot. You sobbed, utterly broken, overwhelmed, consumed, and insisted that you couldn’t give him another one. He stopped licking you only to say, “you can, and you will,” before diving right back in.

He must have known that this was it, this was when you needed your reprieve. You finished and he made sure not a drop of you went to waste, but then he was kissing around your thighs, you could feel that his cheeks and jaw were wet and there was something deep inside you that loved that his face was covered in you—maybe you could go a couple more rounds.

He tore the ropes off, uncaring of what happened to the bed or anything else—though, the way the post creaked made you worry. He just wanted to get you loose quickly and as soon as you were free, he was laying you down and kissing you wherever he could reach, mainly your chest and one of your arms.

When his lips were on yours, you remembered how badly you had wanted him inside you. It didn’t matter that you could barely move, you insisted on pushing his jeans down. “Daddy, please?”

He helped you because he doubted your ability to do so on your own, but he made the mental note to let you undress him before he ate you out next time. He loved when you undressed him, how your fingers would glide down his skin so softly, like he was something delicate or breakable. Sometimes, it made him forget who and what he was.

Though you were soaking wet, somewhat numb from all that overstimulation, he was hard enough that it hurt. His cock pressed into you carefully, inch by inch, his eyes on your face the whole time. He loved the flush on your cheeks, that hazy gleam in your eye, your swollen, parted lips—you looked so wrecked.

You weakly hooked a leg around his ass, hands following to grasp at his shoulders. “Daddy, I feel like I’ve needed you inside me for a fucking year.” And now he was there, and it made no sense how complete you felt, how sated, how at-home.

He kissed your lips first, a clear apology, then he kissed all around your face until you couldn’t stop smiling. “I’ll make it up to you,” he assured. “I’m gonna pound your beautiful little pussy until I know you can’t take it anymore.”

Sometimes, fucking so wildly and creatively was at the cost of simple intimacy. As he picked up this steady pace, this nice roll of his hips that was deep enough to make you cry out and forceful enough that his skin slapped noisily against yours, your eyes sought his out. He set his hand to your cheek, a nonverbal order to keep looking at him. His eyes always seemed like an ocean to you, so great, so dangerous, so mysterious. You realized he hadn’t spoken about his last mission, you were beginning to wonder if there was a bigger reason for all these games. Maybe this was his way of sneakily getting you here without having to talk about it—he never liked you to worry.

You finished and it felt like he was finally home, despite him having been there for several days. You shuddering beneath him, tightening around him to the point of being painful just grounded him like nothing else could, reminded him that he was human.

His hips stilled immediately and before you could say a word, his lips were on yours. He was smart, anyone who ever claimed Steve wasn’t alarmingly intelligent was dead wrong. He was a strategist above all else, that also applied in bed. He wanted you to come down fast before he started up again, he wanted you loose and weak because you were less likely to make him come that way. And he had such grand plans for the rest of the night, it was written all over his face, meaning he was edging himself.

There were few things better than when Steve did this. He always knew how to start slow for himself, not gentle, not boring, just simply not enough. With time, he fucked you harder, he grabbed you like you were little more than a toy given to him simply for his pleasure, the noises he made were animalistic, the things he would say… You just had to last that long, and it was always a mystery if you would, if he would take it easy on you or not.

Usually, he didn’t care to be so considerate.

He settled his weight on one of his forearms as he pulled away from the kiss. His opposite hand slid down your body and to your sensitive cunt.

“Daddy,” you whimpered. Nope, he most certainly was not going easy on you tonight.

He didn’t start fucking you again. Instead, he rubbed firm, quick circles over your clit until you were shaking and screaming and crying and squeezing his shoulders in your hands.

While you were coming, he brought his hand over your mouth and nose. You did your best to look up at him, but he kept his fingers on your clit and you could barely think straight, let alone see straight.

“Hear that?” That was when he started thrusting. “Hear how wet your pussy is? It’s been that wet all night, you’ve been so desperate for my cock all night. When you were flirting with Bucky, when you were dancing with Wanda. And they both knew it. Bucky can smell you, too, and I’m sure Wanda was reading your thoughts.”

Both of those suggestions were mortifying. It wasn’t normal how weak and pathetic you got over Steve’s cock. Thinking that the team knew that, that Wanda was listening to some of your thoughts, you wouldn’t be able to look them in the eye for at least the next week.

He kept his hand over you, preventing you from breathing because he knew it would make your next orgasm better. He felt a sinful amount of pride when your eyes began crossing, when your hips started to jerk, when you started digging your nails into his skin. You were so fucked out you didn’t care what you looked like or sounded like, and that was what turned him on like nothing else after long nights like these.

You started shoving his arm as you were coming down, realizing once more the importance of oxygen. He waited, kept his hold over you, eyes locked on yours, until your eyes filled with more tears and your skin turned just a little red. When he let you go, your chest heaved as you greedily took in air. And he never once stopped driving his cock in and out of you, reveling in the sounds.

“Daddy—”

He scoffed, rolling over effortlessly so you were on top. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you’re not trying to tap out right now.” His hand spread over your back, holding you down flat. His voice was surprisingly steady considering his erratic thrusts. “Not only would I not let you, but you know you’re tougher than that.”

Your cheek was pressed to his chest, the loudest sound you could hear was his pounding heart. You had your hands somewhere on his body, all you could feel was skin and muscle and heat. His hands slid down to your ass where he held you in place and fucked you harder than he usually liked to. Screams tore from your throat along with these small mewls when you were almost choking on air because you could barely remember how to breathe.

“You love me, baby doll?”

“Yes,” you rasped. “Yes, daddy, I love you.”

“You gonna be a good girl and let daddy use you all night?”

“Yes.” That was a big promise you weren’t sure you were going to be able to keep but your desire to make him proud sometimes beat out logic.

“Sit up,” he directed but moved you himself. He placed your hands on his chest but kept a good hold of your shoulders. “You know what I want.”

And for some reason, your hips, despite all the screaming your muscles were doing, started to roll.

He let out a pleased sigh, eyes roaming over your body. His hands weren’t tight, they were just there if he needed to catch you, but this was all you. This was his baby, riding his cock because you were such a good girl.

This had to be adrenaline, there was no other explanation for why you were able to move on your own. From this position, you could feel how wet and sticky you’d gotten his thighs—how many times had he made you come? You weren’t sure anymore.

As you drew yourself closer to an orgasm, now wildly bouncing on his cock, screaming, gasping, sobbing, you pressed your nails down into his pecs as sharply as you could.

He watched your breasts move with you, smugly admiring the bruised and broken skin around your nipple. His heart swelled when he felt you trying to mark him up, too. You made him wish that he didn’t heal so fast sometimes, if only so he could be covered in you as much as you were covered in him.

He caught your hip in one hand when you were getting him too close. He dragged you down until you were flat on his lap, struggling to sit on the entire length of his cock. His other hand went to your clit again and you threw your head back and moaned shamelessly. He flicked his thumb over you until you were shaking, your knees digging into his sides, your chest heaving, your arms buckling.

He let you come down this time but not because he was feeling nice. He’d been so lost in you that he had let himself get just a little too far. But that didn’t stop you from being a fucking tease, he suspected nothing in this world could. You were sitting there, pussy occasionally clenching around his cock, your hands kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples.

His hand tightened on you when your shaky fingers touched the bite he’d left behind. You hissed a little, glancing down to assess the damage. He was sick for biting you like that, but you were sick for looking so god damn happy about it.

Your eyes flit up to him, catching him looking just a little weak. His mouth snapped shut when he realized you were watching him. “Wanna give me another one, daddy?”

Scoffing, he sat up, situating himself onto his legs so you could sit on his thighs. His arms slid around your back and he pulled you up until you were a head or so taller than him. With your eyes locked, he sucked your nipple between his lips.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whispered.

He hummed lightly, teeth just barely pressing down.

“Shit,” you muttered, almost more to yourself. You always liked feeling it, but he’d never taken the time to let you watch him do it.

He started sucking, taking more of your breast in his mouth until he’d decided where he wanted to let his teeth cut into your skin. He did it slow, sinking them in carefully and keeping his gaze on you the whole time. You were shaking again and he could feel your cunt leaking onto his lap. He wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten you this wet before.

Your eyes filled with new tears when he finally broke your skin. You bit your lip to keep from making a noise too big, but it was an agonized cry that made him pause for just a moment. But then you squeezed your pussy around him and his hand came down on your ass loudly, you weren’t sure what scared you more the sudden sound or the force behind it.

He pulled his mouth off and admired his work for a second before turning up to you. “You want to be a fucking brat after I’m making you act like this?”

You scoffed shakily. “And how are you making me act, daddy?”

Instead of answering that, he asserted, “I’ve never seen someone so desperate to have every hole fucked this hard. I’m sure most people haven’t.”

You arched an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe I should fuck you in front of the team, hmm?”

That idea probably didn’t put you off as much as he thought it would. Although, calling him daddy, begging for his cock and his cum, crying because he won’t let you finish—thinking of other people watching you submit like that was a little embarrassing.

“How about just Wanda and Vision?” you suggested.

He snorted. “Really?”

“He can watch you eat my pussy, you can show him how to do it.”

He hummed, pretending that he didn’t care.

But he should have stopped you because you were about to cross the line with him. After all, it was one of your favorite hobbies. “But before we get Wanda’s hopes up, maybe he could practice on me a few times.”

And when he gripped your hip tighter, you knew you’d hit the bullseye. He took his opposite hand and grabbed your jaw. “I’m only going to say this once, doll.”

You hummed, trying to hide how pleased with yourself you were.

“If you ever joke about someone else eating your pussy, I’ll fucking spank you until I see some blood.”

Though it was more than likely an empty threat—Steve didn’t have it in him to do that to you, even when you promised you would tell him if it was too much—his deep voice, his unrelenting grip on your jaw, his dark eyes all made you wetter.

“Understood?”

You tried not to smile but you failed, and continued to fail as you tried to hide it by nodding.

He scoffed sharply. “You’re so fucking spoiled.”

He grabbed a handful of hair at the back of your head, smirking when you startled. Before you could say a word, he was yanking you down until his cock had slipped out and you rolled off his lap. He didn’t much care where you landed, he just shoved your face into the bed.

Then he was on top of you, settling his body over yours but being careful not to set any weight on you. He was not gentle at all when he entered you again because this was the kind of fucking that wouldn’t stop until you were sweating, dripping with cum, crying, and blurting out nonsense that always seemed to placate him.

He kept your face pressed into the mattress as he railed into you. You screamed loudly because you could, because he wasn’t letting you do anything else, because it was the only way you could express to him how badly you wanted to finish, how badly you wanted him to finish. As you were coming, you only got louder, your throat was starting to ache, your heart was pounding, your head spinning—you couldn’t fucking breathe, not that you minded, and you were wasting the little oxygen you did have to let this man know he was fucking you just right.

He waited until your body was thrashing with aftershocks, until your voice had died down somewhat, and then lifted your head. Instead of letting you catch your breath, he leaned over and kissed you. It was a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss with a lot of tongue, both of you moaning as his hips continued to move.

“Daddy, are you gonna come?”

“You want me to?”

You nodded as well as you could with his hold on your hair. “Please, daddy.”

He hummed before shoving your face back down. He sat back then, free hand coming to the small of your back to keep you right there. With this new position, he had a lot more leverage and he took full advantage of that. You didn’t scream this time, you couldn’t. A sound had caught in your throat the second he slammed back into you harder than you could ever remember him doing so. It fucking hurt and you were aching, but you loved that harsh sting you felt in your pussy. You loved that he was the one who did it to you.

He collapsed back over you as he finished. His mouth took your shoulder, biting down to muffle the groans pouring from him as his body moved at a steady pace. You could feel his cum filling you, soon it would be dripping out, soon he would be moving again until he’d just about fucked it all out of you, and he’d want to do it again and again, until he wasn’t hard anymore.

Currently though, he was. He was buried deep inside you and it hurt to have him there while you were still tight from your last finish and the impending next one. It was a feeling you’d gotten used to, a feeling you’d grown to crave sometimes. That pain that was so uniquely Steve Rogers because no one else had that stamina or strength.

He sat up again, releasing his hold on your head so you could finally breathe. He let you collect yourself as he began positioning you over him. He spread your legs as wide as they could go, draping your thighs over his.

Was he ever going to give you a break?

His hands both curled around your waist, fingers pressing firmly down on that skin. He dragged you down further onto his cock and you threw your head back. He kept fucking you like this, just pushing and pulling your body and holding you so tight. He was merciless, forcing you to take as much of his cock as you could before you screamed. He loved hearing you scream. It fueled him on, so it was no surprise when he pinned you down to the mattress, hands painfully grasping at your skin, and began fucking you so roughly that the bed was rattling. You were shrieking and crying and pleading, and your hips were angling up so you could take him in deeper. All you wanted was your next orgasm.

When you got it, you felt much like a shattered vase. You could do nothing but lay there in pieces, panting, disoriented, struggling to keep a grip on reality. Through it all, he pounding into you, roughly handling your body to best get himself off.

You knew he was coming when he brought his forearms down on either side of you. It was a few more harsh snaps of his hips and then he was unmoving, and you were full of him. He wasn’t completely rested on you, but it was the only thing in that moment that could ground you.

You blindly, mindlessly reached for him. You curled your arm back, grabbing his hair to pull him closer. You didn’t want to kiss him, you just wanted him as close as he could possibly get. Regardless, he did kiss you until he felt like you had come down enough for him.

He slipped his cock out and you felt his cum following, dripping from your pussy. He climbed off the bed, standing at the very edge where he gestured you over. “Come here, baby doll.”

You weren’t sure how you made yourself crawl over to him. It was purely a miracle that your muscles worked. You were on your hands and knees when you took him into your mouth. His hand settled in your hair and he let his head fall back.

He wasn’t totally soft, but as soft as he was going to get while his thoughts about all the ways he wanted to fuck you persisted. He grabbed your hair and pulled you off, smiling a little when he saw you pouting. There were few things he liked seeing more than when you would get bratty just to suck him off. “Lay down on your back.”

You quickly obliged. He had never placed you in this position before and you loved when Steve took control of positions—it was never disappointing. He took your waist and pulled you to the edge of the bed until your head was dangling over. Immediately, you opened your mouth for him and he thrust back in.

You gagged noisily, your throat moving around him as you struggled to take him. He let you adjust on your own while his hands wandered your body. First, he grabbed your breasts, pinched your nipples until your back was arching and you were whimpering for more. He let them slide down until he could grab your thighs. He spread your legs as wide as they could go and watched your cunt pulsing and clenching, messy, sticky. And dipping with his cum.

“Keep your legs open for me,” was all he said before he leaned over and his tongue was sliding through your folds. You whined, muffled by his cock, utterly frustrated by how badly you wanted him to suck your clit. He pressed his hands down flat on your thighs to keep you pinned right where he wanted and began fucking your mouth.

The room was filled with sounds of you choking and moaning and him eating your soaking pussy and those breaths that you drew from him when you swallowed him just right. During your finish, he stopped his hips, denying himself the same relief. This happened several times and you wouldn’t have minded if he did it for the rest of the night. You didn’t understand how you could want more after all he had given you, but you did. More of his mouth, his hands, his cock.

When he pulled himself from your mouth, he was hard again. You didn’t let him tell you what to do next. You just reached for him, one hand wrapping around his cock and the other massaging his sac. You didn’t stop even though he was fucking you with his fingers, cruel and punishing, until he was spilling out on your skin.

He watched as you let your hands spread his cum all over your breasts and down your body to your pussy where more of him remained. You covered as much of yourself as you could in it and all he could think was that he wanted to do the same to the rest of your body, particularly your ass.

You knew immediately what was coming next. You got up, haphazardly crawled around the mattress until you could lie down and pressed your ass against him eagerly. He got his cock wet with your dripping center, just lightly dipping in and chuckling at the weak sounds you made, and then slowly, he pressed into your asshole.

You gripped at the sheets as he fed you more and more of his cock. Once more, when his hips were flush against you, he became insatiable. He used you to get every last ounce of frustration out and you felt powerful and wanted. He was rough and relentless, he didn’t care how many times you orgasmed, he didn’t care that you were overstimulated and overwhelmed.

You were sweating and shaking, impossibly wet, but he kept going because your hips were driving back to meet his thrusts. You could whine and beg as much as you wanted but Steve knew your body and he was the one that decided when you had had enough. You grabbed at his arms where he had them placed over your head on the mattress for balance, desperate to touch him, to bring him closer to you.

He never stopped fucking you while he situated himself on his side and pulled you along with him. He held you against his chest, arms wound tightly around you as his fingers either pinched your nipples, wrapped around your throat, or rubbed your clit. You were drowning in dozens of sensations that you couldn’t distinguish if your life depended on it.

When Steve finished again, he held onto you almost desperately. He whispered in your ear, the sweetest things, a major contrast compared to the entire night. “Thank you, baby doll, I’ve needed that since I got home.” He took your jaw in his hand and turned you to face him. “Do you love daddy?”

You nodded and made this pathetic noise because you stupidly thought you were capable of forming words. He smiled a little and suddenly, you were just lost in him. His eyes. His lips. His entire fucking unfairly beautiful face.

“Did daddy make you feel good tonight?”

You nodded again. You didn’t know much but you did know that you were high off these things that Steve did to you.

He gave you a single, chaste kiss. “You deserved it, baby girl.”

You began turning your body toward him and he took the hint. He pulled out, grabbing the blankets that were strewn all around the bed. You curled up against him, so tiny and so weak, and he was brimming with pride because he did that to you and you let him and you, this amazing fucking person, loved him. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve it, but he didn’t ponder too long as he wrapped you up in the blankets and cradled you against him.

tags:

@donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @onetwo3000

#steve rogers x reader #my writing