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obsessedtomone · 2 months

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Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 15 - Doll▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤“And to think that all I had to do was take you the way I originally wanted to, huh? Here I thought I’d wait for you to come around,” he exhales and begins sliding your pants down your waist.

“Fuck—Slow down!” you mewl weakly, digging your nails into the rim of your desk and feeling your legs almost buckling under him.

“Like hell I will. I’ve seen your hand now, slut.”◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Very Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ???, Toxic Romance Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Past Child Abuse, Bullying, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six • Seven • Eight • Nine • Ten(ko) • Eleven • Twelve • Thirteen • Fourteen • Fifteen • Sixteen • Updates every Monday!

Chapter 15 - Doll “Hoooooly fuck! Look at this! Hahaha!” His voice bounced against the walls of the room.

You panic, mentally going through all the options you have in the span of a second.

Unplug the cable to your computer or go for the power button and shut it down.

One of the options being under the desk in the back—and you’re not about to get in dick-sucking position for gamers 101 with him right now—and the latter being hooking your hand over his leg and holding the button pressed before he catches you.

Both options were out of the question, so you pick for option number three, going in to alt+f4 the fuck out of your browser.

As it turns out, your little mental dilemma was completely unnecessary when you realize Shigaraki—as always—is too fucking fast for you, grabbing you by your waist harshly and sitting you down on his lap while promptly restraining your wrists.

“There’s no point closing it. I’ve already skimmed through half of them while you were ignoring me, loser.” He grins, pulling you closer to him and away from the keyboard, while he could still reach and click around. “Don’t squirm too much unless you’re trying to get me hard.”

You think you could die right fucking now and you’d be fine with it.

But then again, weren’t you always?

“Let’s see,” he starts, and you try really hard to get off of him again, unable to bear the fucking shame of what’s to come. “Told you to stop moving, moron. Now pay attention here,” he orders, keeping you close to him. “Oooh, praise kink! You want me to call you my good girl?” Shigaraki coos really close to your ear with a sickly sweet voice and it sets your face on fucking fire, rendering you absolutely speechless.

“Oh my god, you do!” he exclaims, giggling. “What else? Dirty talk, degradation—fucking creampie?! Mmmh, you filthy slut. Should I fill your tight little pussy up with my cum?” he moans obscenely next to you and suddenly you feel way too hot, too fucking embarrased, so you shoot your hand to cover his mouth and wish you could grab the keyboard and beat him to death with it, picturing little bloody keycaps flying all around the room.

Shigaraki wakes you up from your brief coping daydream by licking your palm sloppily in retaliation, immediately grossing you out and making you pull your hand away. You wipe his saliva against his shirt, your body still still going through the after-shocks of repulsion.

When you look at him again, he gives you another one of his half-lidded smirks.

His leg shifts, holding your waist even tighter against his lap and you feel something hard pressing against your ass.

“S-Stop that! Let me go!” you plead, but his arms won’t loosen up.

“Look.” He drags the mouse and highlights a word on your screen. You glance at it and then promptly look the other way, the ugly white paint on the walls of your apartment suddenly being infinitely more interesting. “What does that say? Hm?” He rocks you against him. “Speak, slut.”

“No! Fuck off and let go!” You claw at his hand, scratching and pinching at him to let you go but he doesn’t even flinch.

Instead, he grinds his erection against you again, groaning and nuzzling into your neck—any previous inhibitions about letting you off the hook for now were gone right out of the window.

“My precious little slut is always fucking lying to me,” he says in a sing-song tone, biting the back of your sensitive neck harshly and causing you to whimper. “You fucking freak,” he pants, “Mindbreak? Breeding? You want me to breed you, make you scream on my cock until you can’t even think anymore? Is that it?”

He slides his hand up your back and pushes your shoulder forward and down—hard enough for you to have to bend and grip your desk in order to catch yourself from falling altogether.

“Hahaha,” he laughs darkly, scrolling the website and reading through more of your favorited fucking tags, “Dubcon, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, emotional manipulation—Jesus. Even rape? Holy shit,” he snickers, standing both of you up but keeping you nice and bent for him.

You shudder, making a strangled noise when he thrusts himself against your sex roughly.

“You’re so fucked in the head,” he cackles. “Is that why you provoke me all the fucking time? You want me to get mad? To break you? Make you—ahh, fuck—my own personal cocksleeve?” Shigaraki breathes heavily, bending himself over your back and using one arm around your waist to lift your hips, high enough for him to be perfectly slotted against your backside.

You moaned at the repeated cruel drag of his length against you, the raspy sound of his voice shamefully sending electricity all the way to your clit.

“And to think that all I had to do was take you the way I originally wanted to, huh? Here I thought I’d wait for you to come around,” he exhales and begins sliding your pants down your waist.

“Fuck—Slow down!” you mewl weakly, digging your nails into the rim of your desk and feeling your legs almost buckling under him.

“Like hell I will. I’ve seen your hand now, slut.”

“That doesn’t fucking count! You—You can’t compare fantasy with fucking reality, Shigaraki!” you cry his name out, when you feel him snake his digits below the band of your underwear and sliding two rough fingers against your slit, the pads brushing firmly against your sensitive clit, gliding past it until he reaches your opening and teases it.

He feels the resistance and pushes both of his fingers inside you at once, the sudden stretch feeling really uncomfortable at first. Your back arched in response, hips involuntarily jerking against his hand and he begins lazily fucking his long fingers into your cunt.

“You’re such a fucking liar. Look at how wet you are for me, fuck.” He takes his hand out of your panties, splaying his slick-covered fingers in front of your face and presenting them to you proudly.

Your head turns around, face flustered and you glare at him through glossy eyes as he licks them off, starting all the way from the tips, then pushing them knuckle by knuckle inside of his mouth and making a great show of sucking on them.

Shigaraki’s eyes fluttered closed and he groaned like he’s never tasted anything better before in his life.

And maybe he hasn’t, because to him there was nothing sweeter tasting than victory itself, making you his hard-earned prize.

“What, you wanted some too?” He leans in and whispers huskily, completely drunk on his lust—on you, “Shame, because I don't feel like fucking sharing today.”

Then all of the sudden, his warmth leaves your back and you gasp, immediately feeling yourself missing the contact. You curse at yourself for folding so easily.

He doesn't leave you for long, though, can’t afford to when there’s so much he wants to do to you now.

“Take them off, sit on the chair and spread your legs wide for me,” he commands in a low serious tone, making you feel just how fast your heart was pounding. “I’m going to fucking devour you tonight, slut.”

It briefly crosses your hazy mind to refuse him and run out of the house, never turning back—but you were extremely turned on and… and there’s never been someone so eager to have you the way he does, especially when the electricity between the two of you, among the hatred and the violence, was undeniable.

You, broken enough to let him have his way with you.

Him, fucked up enough to claim you.

It was a line you didn’t want to cross, not with him, not really. But the way your hands had a mind of their own as you reached for the waistband of your pants, sliding them down your thighs while you were watching him palm the outline of his erection through his clothes, told you your answer.

“Hurry the fuck up, before I lose all of my patience and fuck you into the floorboard instead,” he growled, a dark glint in his eyes while he watched you bend over, slowly taking your clothes off like a tease.

And you listen.

You take your pants off in a way it left no room for interpretation on whether or not you wanted this, stumbling back and sitting on your chair, watching his lustful gaze lock in on your hips as you shyly lift your legs up and get into position.

His head was reeling, taking a tentative step forward, watching your reaction before he kneels in front of the chair, grabbing your ankles and rolling you closer to him.

He slides his trembling hands across the surface of your legs, all the way to your waist and hears you gasp when he leans in closer to your heat, the plainest pair of panties covering it with an obvious wet spot in the middle.

“Fuck,” he whispers, intoxicated when he sees your legs trembling in anticipation, his confident streak slightly dampening now that you’re letting him actually have you, submitting to him so naturally. “Such a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?” Shigaraki’s piercing eyes turn to look at yours through dark lashes until his gaze falls on your bitten lip.

“Please, as if you c-could ever get me off,” you challenge and he grins dangerously, feeling warmth spreading inside his chest. He presses his cheek to the cold skin of your thigh and nuzzles it, soft hair tickling you as he peppers you with soft hungry kisses.

You look down at him and feel your mind become hazy, unable to breathe more than shallow breaths, so you slide your hand in his hair and rake your fingers through it, pulling a groan from the depths of his soul, his eyes screwing shut, brows angling downwards, an incredible sight for sore eyes—

Until he fucking bites you.

He bites down on your skin so hard you let out a pained cry, fingers twisting in his white locks, pushing him away but he keeps pressing in until you can’t help but spill hot painful tears, blurring the way his possessive eyes were locked in on yours.

“I-It fucking hurts, please,” you beg, and because it sounds like heaven to his ears, he listens, flattening his tongue and licking the bloody mark he’s left on you, kissing it as if he could nurse it. “W-What the fuck was that for, asshole?” You release the grip on his hair, hooking your other leg atop his shoulder and sniffling when he wraps his arm around it, bringing his face closer to where you wanted it to be.

“A reminder,” Shigaraki states with underlying excitement in his voice. Strong, rough arms pull you closer and your ass partially slides off the seat in the process. He pushes your legs upwards, nodding towards your hands. “Hold them up properly.”

“A reminder,” you repeat, hooking your arms under your thighs and holding yourself up like he’d asked you to, looking away and feeling shame racking through your body as you shrink under his impossibly sinful gaze.

“Tch. Don’t you dare look away from me,” he orders you, low and careful and once again, you listen, swallowing empty and looking back at him.

A deep growl escapes his throat, sitting back on his knees to admire your obedience for him. Your quivering body, teary eyes and a stubborn needy pout, all on display for him to enjoy. Shigaraki leans in and reaches to swipe away at your almost-dried tears with a thumb, bringing it to his mouth and licking it off, watching you with desire and making you pant heavily in anticipation.

“A reminder that you’re mine,” he promises, lowering himself and placing a soft kiss above the waistband of your panties before continuing, “And that I’m in charge now.” He runs his thumb against the already painful wound he’d created and presses his nail into the coppery dent his teeth left behind, making you hiss in pain and your hold falter.

“Keep holding them up,” he warns and you whimper as he goes to kiss and suck in purple marks all over the expanse of your thighs, blatantly ignoring the ache between your legs and your weak moans.

Fucking finally gracing you with some mercy, he hooks his fingers around your panties and slides them off, until they’re only hanging on one ankle. Shigaraki shudders, swallowing hard, now standing and watching you from above like a predator.

You move your hand to cover yourself, but he grabs your wrist and pries it away forcefully. “No you fucking don’t.” He thumbs at your wet slit roughly and you shiver.

After pondering something for a second, he sinks back on his knees and dives right into your cunt, licking a long stripe from your clenching hole to your clit.

You moan brokenly but he doesn’t relent, blunt nails scratching your sides as he eats your pussy sloppily, listening carefully to every noise you make. Your fingers dig into the plastic handle of your seat, free hand finding purchase in his messy white hair once more.

He’s as greedy for your sounds as he seems to enjoy giving, hands sliding to part your lower lips and honing in on the bundle of nerves that seems to make you lose your mind every time he’s flicking his tongue in that particular way.

The barren room echoes with filthy sounds of your cries, his groans and your increasingly wet cunt, muscles in your legs twitching involuntarily and you struggle between keeping a steady position on your chair and giving in to the pleasure.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, because he dips two of his fingers in and starts finger-fucking you at a brutal pace, one strong arm moving to keep your lower body pinned for him, and judging by the heat pooling in your lower abdomen, you know you won’t last much longer.

His normally rough lips, now softened by your arousal, close around your sensitive clit and it’s him sucking on it roughly, combined with him repeatedly curling both his fingers against your most sensitive spot that does you in. You clench around his fingers hard, locking your thighs around his head and he whimpers against you, fucking you through your orgasm and licking the mess of your climax hungrily.

“Good fucking girl,” he praises when he lifts his mouth with a devilish grin, still rubbing soft circles on you , pumping his fingers lazily and watching you whimper in overstimulation.

“Tongue out,” he commands and you look at him with a half-lidded look. He slips his soaked fingers out of you and smacks your pussy playfully, earning him a moan. “Don’t make me repeat myself, c’mon.”

You whine and open your mouth, tongue peeking out just slightly, when he stands and drapes himself over you, making your heart beat faster.

He places his slick-covered fingers on top of your tongue, pressing down on it for you to open wider, giving you the idea that he wants you to suck on them, but before you can close your lips around them, he spits into your mouth.

“Swallow.” Shigaraki orders and your nose scrunches, but you close your mouth and swallow. “Show me.”

When you do, his face breaks into a creepy smile, sliding his fingers in and forcing you to taste yourself.

“Good, right?” he giggles, voice filled with unrestrained giddiness and you roll your tongue over his fingers, giving him more than he asked for. His jaw falls slack and he stares at the fingers in your mouth, taking them out and leaning in to replace them with his moistened cracked lips instead.

The kiss is sloppy, hungry, wet and messy. Shigaraki wasn’t kissing you, he was devouring you, and every time you pulled away for air, his mouth would follow yours, his hands gripping the handles of your chair and pushing you until the backrest is pressed firmly against the wall where he has you caged in.

You groan into his mouth in complaint and he finally breaks the kiss, your lungs filling with delicious oxygen once again.

When you glance down, you see a string of saliva connecting you two, lips shiny, mixed with both your wetness and his own spit. He looks dazed, eyes clouded as he breathes in deeply. Breathes you in deeply and he finds that it’s not enough, he wants to have you, all of you, all at once.

“I’d love to shove my cock down your throat and fuck your face right about now,” he whispers low, corners of his mouth turning up in a smirk, hand reaching down to rub more circles around your clit and you shudder. “But that’s for next time.”

Next time?

“Look at you. You’re a fucking mess,” he muses, kissing your cheek softly—too softly—and you frown, getting ready to bitch at him.

He sees it and pinches your bundle of nerves harshly making you whine again, “Ah–ah. Don’t give me an attitude now. Come on, get up.” He slides his hand to your hips and squeezes, using his other one to grab your wrist and hoist you out of the chair. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Your eyes fall on the tent in his pants and you can almost feel him stretching you out with how painfully hard he looked, length lined down his left leg.

Before he could push you along, you reach and run your curious fingers across the bulge, feeling your chest flutter with strange butterflies.

It takes him by surprise and his whole body shakes, knees trembling and he slaps your hand away as he scrambles to hold himself up against the desk, eyes blown wide and breaths coming out heavy.

No fucking way. That sensitive?

You smile deviously and he glares at you.

“D-Don’t fucking do that, I almost—ugh, just move!” he grumbles defensively, grabbing your shoulder, turning you around and shoving you forward.

Fuck, that was hot.

You find yourself wondering again if he’s done this with other people like he seems to have had.

You might’ve thought he was a virgin before, but how could he be with the way he acts? How many men have you met to be confidently inexperienced before? How many of them actually cared to get you off?

Fucking zero, that’s how many.

There wasn’t time to ask, because you suddenly heard the front door slam shut behind the two of you, followed by a violent thud of Taylor’s paper grocery bag spilling against your floor.

Eyes wide, you fumble to pull your shirt down, trying to cover yourself and frantically picking up your clothes. You sober up immediately, realizing you were about to let Shigaraki Tomura fuck you stupid tonight—part of you disappointed not at yourself but… at the prospect of it not happening.

You look at your friend, feeling deeply ashamed and then at him who was already running a hand through his hair, huffing irritatedly at the unwanted interruption.

So fucking close, he thinks. Tomura really wanted to rip your friend’s fucking head off.

“What the fuck do you two think you’re fucking doing?” They stomped forward, absolutely fuming.

“Get the fuck out. Can’t you see we’re busy?” he snaps back, reaching to hook his arm possessively around your waist and pushing your body flush against his own. You smacked at his chest to let you go, cursing him repeatedly, but he wasn’t paying attention, opting to cautiously eye your friend’s presence instead.

“Like hell you are!” Your friend yanks him by the collar of his shirt and pries him away from you. “Think I forgot the shit you pulled at the party, creep?!”

Anger flashes across his face and he’s not beyond beating the fuck out of your friend for so much as daring to touch him—but he knew that doing it would set things back with you.

Tomura really fucking liked the new stage of this relationship he’s unlocked with you, and he wasn’t going to let his temper ruin it for him this time.

You however were none the wiser.

So you cut right in the fucking middle when Taylor decided to hit him, the only person ending up getting slapped by unnecessarily expensive acrylics being you.

“Ow—fuck!” You glare at your friend, who looked absolutely mortified. Shigaraki scrambles to assess the damage and your friend is already tearing up and apologizing, both of them immediately crowding you.

“Get. Out. Both of you. Now,” you whisper angrily, prompting them to give each other a death stare. “I want to be alone, so—fucking please.”

To your surprise, they both (very reluctantly) back off.

Shigaraki, who looked defeated, made an odd sound of disapproval, grabbed his shit and angrily stormed out first.

Taylor on the other hand lingered, trying to pry, to apologize, to ask why you didn’t answer their texts all week, but you were only able to snap back and make them cry harder.

When everyone finally left you the fuck alone, you began breaking down, absolutely burnt out by this horrible series of events happening in your life.

You throw yourself on your bed, and realize you’re still able to smell his soft lingering scent against your bedding. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you also realize he forgot his fucking hoodie at your place.

Why the fuck were you about to let Shigaraki have his way with you earlier?

Why did you listen to him? Were you that fucking sexually deprived to let another psycho fuck you?

They were questions you could not fucking answer, not when you know that you’re falling right into his trap.

So you pull his hoodie over your head and inhale deeply into the collar.

Then you proceed to replay the earlier events in your head and do something you swear you’ll take to the grave with you. ───────── The following days, including your whole weekend, were completely Shigaraki-free. That meant you got to study your ass off for your exam week and you didn’t have to deal with him at all after the incident.

You didn’t speak to Taylor either, and Taylor avoided you like the fucking plague.

It was fair in a way that you didn’t like to admit.

You deserved it. You were a shit friend. So now you’re studying in the main cafeteria at lunchtime, when he casually slips into the seat next to yours with a tray of food in his hands.

He pushes a box of juice to you and you stare at it.

“Hey,” he rasped, dragging his chair to be as close to yours as humanly possible, seemingly nothing changing in his Shigaraki branded demeanor during the few days that he went MIA.

You clicked your tongue but didn’t reply otherwise, deciding to completely ignore him instead.

So he does what you should’ve expected he’d do and grabs the spoon on his tray, angling it perfectly in your direction and flicking a disgusting wet fucking pea at your face.

It hits you, falling on your rented notebook and fucking stains it.

“HEY! I have an exam in an hour and this is a fucking rental! Cut it out, dickhead!” you snap at him, wiping your face with a grimace but he only smiles.

“There we go! Was worried you forgot how to speak.”

“My god, you’re seriously the worst fucking asshole on this planet, I swear.” You snarl when you look at him.

“So they say.” His lips curve upwards.

Shigaraki lets you be for a minute and starts eating his lunch, but notices—because he’s always observing you—how deep the circles around your eyes are, figuring you haven’t been able to sleep much lately.

“You look like a zombie. Did’ya miss me so much you couldn’t even fall asleep?” he asks in an upbeat tone, elbowing your side and making you mess up the words you were writing. Then he snorts at the way you clutched your pencil tighter in irritation.

“Drop it,” you hiss, feeling more on edge than usual.

None of the information you’re forcing yourself to fucking remember is sticking to your brain. This never happened before and it really, really unnerved you. You’re not allowed to slack off. You can’t afford to slack off.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today?” He leans into you, becoming genuinely concerned. You snap your head at him, looking livid.

Feeling already fed up, you grab your stuff hastily and stand up.

He, of course, has none of your fucking bullshit and forcefully grabs your arm, pulling you back down.

“Sit. I won’t ask twice,” he warns coldly, clenching his jaw.

The look you gave him was one of defeat, so you crumple your study notes and then aggressively drop your bag on the table, half of its contents landing on the floor together with the box of juice he shared with you.

Your lips started quivering and you rubbed at your eyes.

“The fuck you so pissy for? Are you on your period or something?”

You deliberately ignore him again and he grunts, choosing to grab you by the roots of your hair really hard and making you gasp. “Fucking try ignoring me again, bitch,” he spits at you, eyes full of contempt and feeling betrayed that you reverted back to treating him like shit.

There were a lot of students looking at you whenever you were together, because Shigaraki had a reputation—and by extension, so did you.

But you felt that him being openly violent with you right now and in public of all places, pushed you too fucking far in this moment.

Academic stress.

Mind games.

Fighting with your best friend.

Feeling lonely.

Wanting to die.

Wanting to die so bad it suffocated you. The thread snaps and the tower of your sorrows finally topples over, crashing over the entirety of your soul, the acid raindrops of all the emotions you’ve been suppressing this entire time raining on your consciousness until all you could feel was nothing. You can’t focus on your studies.

Can’t handle their attention.

Can’t do this anymore.

So maybe you should—

Just obey. ”You don’t have to think about anything else other than how to please me, bunny. Do you understand me?”

SPANK— “Yes, Sir.”

He lets go of your hair almost immediately, red eyes widening and you lower your gaze like you’ve been taught to do. “The fuck did you say to me?”

“My apologies, Sir,” you reply robotically. “Would you prefer I called you Master or Daddy instead, Sir?” Tomura’s brain short-circuited. Was this another one of your weird fucking games?

He glared into your eyes and could only find a dull submissive look in return.

“What is wrong with you?” He frowns, voice wavering.

“I’m extremely sorry, I do not understand the question, Sir. Could you please explain?”

He runs a hand over his face and scrunches his eyes shut.

“What is this—What the fuck are you doing right now?” He uses his pointing finger and circles it at you.

You just stare at the floor.

“Answer me, moron.”

“My apologies, Sir.”

“Stop calling me that. Explain what’s going on.”

“I’m just your dumb slutty bunny, Sir. I’m yours to have, yours to breed, yours to break,” you say and he almost has a fucking brain aneurysm at how willingly you’re humiliating yourself.

Did you seriously completely fucking break—right here? Like this? In the middle of the fucking cafeteria?

Not in the bedroom where he’d be making you scream his name until your throat was sore and you couldn’t speak anymore? Not by you provoking him and him having to put you in your place, but because of him getting annoyed with you once today?

It was an opportunity too good to pass up.

Tomura’s grin spread wide, resolving to immediately test this newfound control over you, feeling excitement bubbling in his gut at the prospect of you finally becoming an ideal toy, accepting him fully.

How far would you go, he wondered.

“Get on your knees and under the table. Now,” he barked at you—and to his surprise, there really was no bratty remark, no comeback, no hesitation.

You stood up, got on your knees and slipped under the cafeteria table, keeling all over the disgusting floor and still avoiding his gaze submissively.

“Look at me.” Shigaraki snarled and you obeyed, eyes distant and devoid of any expression.

The students were catching on, whispering in the background. You waited patiently for his next command, blankly looking up at him through your lashes.

“Tch. Give me your hand.” And you did, without any resemblance of your usual resistance.

He grabbed it for you and pressed it flat against his semi-hardening cock. “Now go ahead and fucking use it. Show them what a dumb bitch you are,” he orders, looking down at you coldly. You do as he says and start stroking it the way you were taught to—not the way you were with him that evening, eager and curious, but trained, expertly wrapping your digits around the rising tent in his pants and stroking against the fabric. It wasn’t the same.

It did fucking nothing for him.

There was no trace of the sparks he felt in the pit of his stomach every other time he’s made you squirm before. Every other time you made him squirm.

Instead, he felt hollow. “So fucking useless,” he hisses, covering your hand with his own and pressing it harder, rocking his hips against your palm and feeling incredibly frustrated when it only seemed to have the opposite effect on him.

It pissed him off how you weren’t worried about catching a sex offender case anymore. It also pissed him off that he can’t even enjoy this half-assed victory.

You were looking at him in a daze, but not the daze that betrayed how much you wanted him to fuck you—how much you wanted him in the hallway when you had him pinned under you. How your eyes sparked with flickers of desire he saw in-between your apprehension or even fear, at the party. How wet you were last week at your place, bent over your desk and soaking just for him. How he almost got to feel the warm fluttery insides of your cunt and finally made you his.

God were you hot, every single time.

Instead, you were now staring through him and mindlessly following dumb orders like a brain dead fucking sex doll. He somehow used a cheat code to break you like he’d always fantasized to in the beginning.

But isn’t this exactly what he wanted?

Is it fucking not?

Wouldn’t it be great for you to leave every decision in your life to him?

So then—

SO THEN WHY THE FUCK WAS HE FEELING THIS WAY?

Like he’s made a huge fucking mistake. Again. Tomura swallowed hard, unable to keep the inner turmoil at bay. His shoulders became tense, his free hand scratching red angry lines against the scarred skin of his neck.

“Fuck!” He slapped your hand away and you just stared back. “STOP looking at me like that, dirty fucking whore!” he yelled at your face, voice cracking. You look down at his feet again. “Apologies, Master. Please feel free to punish—”

“NO! FUCK! Don’t EVER fucking call me that again!” He grabs you by your arm before you could finish your stupid fucking sentence, roughly pulling you off the filthy floor and knocking the chair out of the way for you.

He takes your bag and chaotically shoves all of your things inside of it, together with the stuff that spilled on the floor earlier.

Tomura throws it over his shoulder along with his own and shoves you forward. “Walk.”

Useless NPCs gathered around for the theatrics, but he was having none of it.

“If any of this comes out, I’ll fucking kill every—single—one—of you. Am I clear?” He turns around and barks at the circle of idiots that surrounded the two of you, gawking and recording the scene like they usually did whenever Shigaraki publicly did something unhinged to someone on campus.

The only difference was, that this is the first time he’d ever shut it down, taking everyone in question by surprise.

“Am I FUCKING clear?!” his voice booms again, as he’s grabbing one of the chairs in a fit of rage and smashes it repeatedly against the floor, plastic parts flying in all directions from the impact and throwing whatever chunk was left of it at a random cluster of individuals.

He then fixed a piercing gaze at the room, waiting expectantly while breathing erratically.

Some of them were frozen and nodded quickly but most had already hurried off. Fuck.

Everything was so fucking itchy and all of it was your fucking fault.

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foreverrogers · 2 years

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Hii Hayes!!!

Congrats on 1.5k!! 🥰🥳 Very well deserved indeed. I love your work ❤️

I'm here to ask for some austen if you feel up for it. I was out of ideas for quotes so I went into my notes app and I found this from The Cruel Prince by Holly Black:

It turns out that having kissed someone, the possibility of kissing hangs over everything, no matter how terrible an idea it was the first time.

I was wondering if you could write something on it with Jeb Pyre (or any of your other characters I love them all).

Love ❤️🥰

thank you thank you hun!!! i don't think I've ever written a blurb so fast, this quote is so perfect!

cw: post utboh, smoking, drunken kissing, allusions to loss of faith, very brief mention of hitting knuckles as a punishment {1.5k}

austen - the queen of romance. send me a favourite quote of yours (can be anything! books, poetry, plays, songs) and I'll make it the theme of a little blurb/dialogue

he had been drunk. the first time, at least. he still wasn't used to being drunk, had spent so many years being told it was a sin.

maybe it was a sin, but he didn't care anymore.

wanting you felt a little bit like that, too. like it was wrong, like you were something out of bounds he should feel bad indulging in, made him feel like a child sneaking treats out of the pantry when nobody was looking, waiting for somebody to come scold him, hit his knuckles until they couldn't reach anymore.

it didn't help that you were younger than him, not much but just enough for it to make everything feel a little scandalous, the pretty young thing at the front desk who had caught his eye on day one.

he had felt worse about it, then, when you had first met, about seeing you and immediately wondering what you felt like, what you smelt like, what you tasted like.

he got to find out all those things, eventually, in the alley of a cop bar at midnight during a retirement party. he had watched you slip out of the back door, finds you lit by the dim, flickering yellow of the street lights and the faint glow of your cigarette. god, you were bad. bad for him. a bad idea. reaching, knuckles waiting to be hit.

you smile at him when you see him approaching, all wide and warm, red painted lips curving deliciously.

he smiles back, smaller, a little less sure. he might be drunk, but he wasn't far gone enough to not realise he was encroaching on dangerous territory just by being here with you, alone in the dark. he still wasn't even sure if you thought about him like that, the way he thought about you, takes all the half glances he had caught over the past couple of months and calls them circumstantial evidence at best.

there's no greeting as he slides next to you, back pressed to the steady brick wall. all you do is offer him your cigarette, already burned halfway down and stained lightly with your lipstick.

"i don't smoke, but thank you, though."

you don't relent, keep your hands stretched between you, ash swaying slowly to the ground. "can you be tempted?" by more than a cigarette, yes.

he looks from the cigarette to you, watches the flutter of your lashes and those doe eyes looking up at him and thinks you must be doing this on purpose, putting on a show to draw him in, doesn't think anybody could look this beautiful without trying.

he takes the nub between his fingers without looking away from you, brings it to his lips with a long, steady inhale.

you start to grin at him, at some point in the seconds of his inhale, giddy realisation that he's done this before.

so maybe he had smoked, just a little, a few puffs behind the station when things got especially stressful, enough to take the edge off but not enough to come home smelling like smoke. you wouldn't mind, he thinks, if it was you he was coming home to.

"thought you said you didn't smoke."

jeb exhales, unwavering, relaxes against the building, proves to calm the hot anxiety spreading through his veins at this new proximity to you. "it can be our secret."

your smile softens, and you study his face so intently it makes his throat close up a little.

"needed a break?" he asks, just so he can change the subject, so he can break you out of whatever puzzle of him you were putting together in your mind. "from in there?"

he offers you the cigarette, and you accept it with a hum of agreement. "i don't think the wives like me very much," you mutter, look away to breathe in one last drag before snubbing it out against the brick. "don't trust me. think all i am is a skirt and a smile to distract their husbands."

jeb doesn't know what to say, and so he doesn't say anything.

there's nothing to do now, with the cigarette gone, has to give you his whole attention when you meet his eyes again. "do you find me distracting, jeb?"

there's silence, long and heavy.

jeb doesn't know what to say, and so he kisses you.

there's no delay, no surprise. you kiss him back like you had been expecting it all along, hooking your fingers into his loosened tie and pulling him to you until he's pressing you against the wall.

you're soft, like he knew you would be, soft where his hand comes up to cup your cheek and his arm moves to wrap around your waist. you taste like smoke and liquor and sugar and you smell the same, too, the sweet cut of your perfume and your lip gloss.

jeb doesn't remember the last time he kissed someone, but he sure as hell knows he's never kissed anyone like this, hot and hot and hot, molten honey dripping from your tongue.

the heavy back door opens with a screech, and by the time the two drunken officers stumble out of the bar jeb's already sprung to the opposite side of the alley.

they both fall past without noticing you, or the thick tension they walk right through, tripping over their own feet and into the deserted main road.

jeb's not sure if he's blanched or if he's blushing, but either way he's glad you can't tell under the dim lights.

he knows by the way you watch him as he walks into the station the next morning that you remember everything clear as day. jeb can, too, does more than just remembers it, can still feel you all over him like a haunting reminder of his indiscretions.

if he thought you were distracting before, he was unprepared for how distracting you were when you were trying. and you were really trying, always coming up with new ways to corner him, to get him alone in the copy room or the break room or even just walk past him in the corridor, brush arms without catching his eye.

every time he would try not to look at you, and every time he would fail, would find your eyes already lingering and the quirk of a smile on your lips. he tries not to watch the curl of those lips, tries not to think about kissing you again.

he gets the overwhelming feeling that you're playing with him, a dangerous game of cat and mouse he's certain he's losing, on the precipice of getting eaten alive.

it's a deserted night, a sunday, and with no one to go home to jeb stays at work long after the sun has set over the mountains.

when he walks into the car park you're leaning against the hood of his car. you smile at him, like you had in the alley. you're even wearing the same lipstick. "i was starting to think you might be living at your desk."

"just, uh..." jeb furrows his brows at you, steps slowing until he pauses a safe distance away, taken aback, undeniably confused. "had a lot of paperwork to catch up on... are you... okay?"

"yeah, 'course i am," you're still smiling, sickly sweet, tone almost too innocent, the type of innocence that only exists to hide something wicked underneath. "i just didn't really feel like going home by myself, so i was wondering if you wanted to... do something tonight."

he almost misses it. by myself. "... together?"

your smile brightens, amusement in your eyes now, and you breathe a gentle laugh as you tilt your head. "yes?"

jeb has to clear his throat, tries not to draw too much attention to the way he loosens his tie a little, an attempt to remember how to breathe again. "uh, what did you have in mind?"

"i don't know, anything, really. dinner? movie?" and, after a few beats, "or you could just take me home, if you'd like."

jeb gapes at you, just slightly, the lightest purse of his lips, and he doesn't mean to but he also can't seem to stop.

"don't look so scared," you smile, back to playing that faux innocence. it's sheer now, though, jeb can see exactly what's underneath, and it takes a lot more restraint than he's willing to admit to not give into it immediately. you take a slow step forward, and then another, soft clack of your heels against the concrete ringing in his ears. "i don't bite, promise."

jeb still hasn't closed his mouth, and now you're close enough that he thinks you might actually act upon it when you look at his lips. he speaks, only because if he kisses you again he's not sure he'll be able to stop. "dinner sounds nice."

come join my 1.5k sleepover!

#jeb pyre #jeb pyre fic #jeb pyre fanfiction #jeb pyre x reader #utboh #andrew garfield #hayes' 1.5k celebration #foreverrogers' 1.5k celebration #hayes muses #under the banner of heaven #queue <3

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teenageread · 11 months

Text

Review: Crushed

Synopsis:

It's springtime in suburban Rosewood, which means iced soy lattes, fresh manicures in shimmering pastels - and prom. But while everyone else is flipping through the racks at Saks in search of the perfect prom dress, Hanna, Spencer, Emily, and Aria are on a different kind of hunt: They're looking for A. . . .

Hanna puts her campaign for prom queen on the back burner to volunteer at a burn clinic, where one of A's victims is recovering. Emily digs into Ali's past at the mental hospital with some very crazy consequences. Spencer contacts a private eye to help her stalk her stalker. But when their sessions get a little too private, they may forget to keep their eyes on A. . . . And Aria's worried that A is even closer than she thought. When her dark secret from Iceland finally comes to light, she discovers that maybe, just maybe, the one person she's been trying to hide the truth from has known all along.

The liars are finally taking the fight to A. But no matter what they do, A's always one step ahead, ready to crush the girls completely.

Plot:

After the disaster on the Eco Cruise, the Liars are done with getting tormented by A. Hiding in Spencer's soon-to-be step-father bunker, they create a list of all the potential accomplices to A, whom they are nailed down to be Real Ali, who somehow survived the fire and are being taken care of by a private nurse. With all the names written down, Spencer gives each of the liars a task: Hanna is to go back to the burn clinic that Graham was placed him to see if he recognized A, Emily is to be friends with Iris as she was roommates with the Real Ali at The Preserve, Spencer is to track down Real Ali, and Aria is to investigate the one who has always been there when things went wrong, her amazing boyfriend Noel. As the girls dodge Special Agent Jasmine Fuji, an FBI agent tasked with interviewing everyone staying at the Jamaican resort the same time Tabitha was, she has additional questions for the liars. With prom approaching fast, the liars' love lives are also failing. Hanna has to lie to Mike. Reefer immediately bails on Spencer. Emily's love is also running from the FBI, and Aria is under increasing pressure, suspecting Noel is A. With A always being one step ahead of the liars, it is time for them to fight back and solve the mystery of their tournament before they are sent to jail for a murder they did not commit.

Thoughts:

Sara Shepard is out of their writing slump, as this thirteenth installment is as good as the start of the series. Shepard has the liars actively hunting A down for the first time, trying to figure out who they are and stop the tournament they have been put through. Shepard also ends their "what happens during the summer" segment, finishing off with Aria's Iceland summer adventure, which seemed to come out of nowhere, and similar to the other liars, it did provide plot points throughout this novel, but overall it was not really needed besides providing another character for the liars to interact with in the future. As the series is coming near the end, it is interesting to look at the romance element of the story, as Shepard divides the girls with solid love lives with Aria and Hanna to the one-offers with Spencer and Emily. Shepard spent the entire book twelve trying to get Spencer with Reefer, who bails by page twenty and is set up to never appear again. Meanwhile, Emily lusts after the FBI's most wanted, who also seems like they are never coming back. Yet this is one of several books where we see Mike and Hanna, and Aria and Noel, fighting, getting back together, fighting some more as the liars keep lying to their boyfriends. I understand the concept of maintaining the A secret, and not putting a target on their boyfriend’s back. Still, the liars should realize that by this point, the boys are involved, so lying to them about mundane things, like working at the burn clinic, creates unnecessary problems. This is also the first time Shepard has the girls look inward on who A could be. Throughout the story, Noel is the prime suspect despite being Aria's boyfriend for more than a year. With this focus on Noel and finding A in general, Shepard takes a backseat on previous villains of Kate, Klaudia, and Naomi, who barely get any page time within this novel as the liars are focused on finding A. For this, there is no worse character or best character, as each of the liars is focused on finding A, giving them each of tasks that they do not really mess up, as their hearts are all in it, trying to end the tournament. With this novel having similar cliff-hanger vibes as the first part of the series, this book definitely revamps the series with its fast-moving plot that relates to the series as a whole and character motivations that focus more on A rather than their mundane lives.

A Suspects:

The concept of the novel is our four girls trying to find out who A is, thus I thought it would be fun to keep a suspect list to see how many people Shepard writes for the girls to at one point suspect and by whom. So here is the list for book #13:

Noel by Spencer

Chase by Spencer

Body Count

As Shepard keeps killing people off, I think it would be a good idea to keep track of who died, but without spoiling the ending of the current book, as her habit is killing them off with two chapters to go. So here is the list of the dead for the previous book #12:

Jenna, Ian, Mona, Toby, Courtney, Tabitha and Gayle

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

#Crushed #Sara Shepard #Pretty Little Liars #book review

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breadqueen95 · 3 years

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Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier.

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt.

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x you #dress #jenna writes #i love lanie #laniestaylorswiftwc

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

👹Bad Habits (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️🔞

👹Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

👹Genre: (Twisted)Romance, Angst, Smut, Psycho!JK

👹Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, biting, rough manhandling, JK accidentally hurts her a bit (but apologizes dw), mildly disturbing themes (blood, guts, bones cracking...), criminal activities such as theft (mentioned) and murder (not actively stated, but heavily implied), panic attack, psychotic episodes, psycho!JK because holy shit I actually got scared what did I create, degrading names (he calls her a whore in his mind like once..), possessive JK, strength kink, reader is unable to conceive (chances are very slim), unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it folks), impreg kink, dead dove do not eat 🕊 manipulative Koo, Dom!Kook, therapy talk, relapses, horrible anger management, emotional koo, emotional reader, look mom I actually wrote a happy ending

👹Summary: Oh monster monster under my bed, you’re the only one I have left, come out and play ‘cause I need a friend.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

You know this, you are very aware of it if the very much still gaping holes in the walls of your apartment, left from his most recent violent episode is anything to go by. He's got anger issues, that much is very apparent to anyone who genuinely knows Jungkook. Somehow he just can't keep himself in check, it's like he just needs the perfect trigger to simply go off like a bomb dropped from ten feet. It doesn't take much to rile him up. It takes a lot however to get him back down again.

Now, this would be the perfect moment to explain that you are the sweet and kind ray of sunlight calming his temper and cooling his ever violently burning mind- but that's not the case. There's nothing that can tame the young man at your side, nothing that can snap that collar around his neck and chain him up to a wall until he's safe to be around again. You can't do anything more than watch and pray that he will keep his promise to never ever hurt you. At first, you were worried. Anyone would be.

But then the first outbreak came.

Then the second.

And you were fine.

He would wreck the apartment, throw furniture, or beat someone to a bloody mess in an alleyway next to a nightclub simply because the guy had looked at your admittedly short skirt the wrong way. While for the longest time he didn't care about anyone, you've become his possession, in every way that the word stands. He owns you, every single cell of your being is his, and he's ready to push anyone's eyes back into their skull just for looking at you weirdly. No one is allowed to lust after you but him. No one's allowed to even think about you but him.

It's quite bittersweet, the reasoning behind his obsession with you. You're not scared, you're never running away, you're always so gentle, so delicate, such an angel around him- and in one way he fears that one day he's gonna be the wolf eating the sheep in a frenzy. In the other however, he's weirdly amused by it; the way you still look at him so innocently as if you didn't know that his hands could snap your neck like a twig between his combat boots he's typically sporting. It's a very twisted story with you two, and in a sense, he's certain that you have to be just as sick in your head as he is for genuinely loving him and his bad habits.

Just like now.

You're not saying anything. Even when you can hear the young mans ribs cracking underneath the steel toed black boots of your boyfriend, you're quiet, watching, unable to tear your eyes away from him- and you don't even know who exactly you're watching. You have already forgotten what the young man looked like- your eyes unable to reconstruct his facial features back to what they were before Jungkook had thrown his fists into them until the stranger couldn't even open his eyes anymore, face bloody and bruised to the point where you're hoping he won't survive it. You're also simply watching as Jungkooks pretty long hair, drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain from above whips around violently as if to mimic the way his muscled leg stomps into the man's chest over an over again, face holding a determination that should scare you. It's all over after a moment however, as your boyfriend seems to grow a bit tired now, slowly calming down as his anger ebbs down, waves finally evening as he breathes heavily. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at what's in front of his feet; unable to quite realize that this was actually him. He turns, looking for you, and his entire facial expression suddenly changes.

While he looked absolutely terrifying just moments before, he's suddenly holding such a sweet and calm glint in his eyes as he takes off his jacket, putting it over your head as he smiles down at you, inner demon now fed again as it seems to crawl back behind his actual soul it consumes daily. You smile back, and he leads you out of the alley, giggling like a teenager when you playfully start to run towards the car, calling him a sore looser when he doesn't let you win like he usually does.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's just a young man as well, deep down.

He's got you sat on his lap as he greedily licks at your neck, teeth suddenly clamping down on the skin as you mewl underneath his touch and actions. He's grinning like the devil in person, his large-in-comparison palms holding your behind as they suddenly sneak underneath your shirt; his shirt, actually, and the main reason he suddenly got hungry to devour you. Your hair is still slightly damp, but he doesn't care as he lifts you up, placing you underneath him on your shared bed, hair falling into his eyes as he pulls the dark grey carharrt shirt over your head, immediately kissing your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts needily as he seems too eager to slow down anytime soon. He grabs your ribs and its as if he doesn't know where to touch- he wants it all, wants to feel it all, all at once, because it drowns out all the bad things he usually does. You're an outlet for his pent up aggression, only that he lets loose differently with you. He's got no hunger to make you suffer, to give you pain or to have you look at him in fear. No, he simply craves the way you writhe underneath him, ready for him, wanting, needing him. Such an angel, such a whore, so needy for his love and affection.

Something he wasn't sure he was capable of.

But he is, and it shows; while he usually moves with his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, ever so agitated by the simplest of things, his face is calm now, relaxed, eyes however still feral- his gaze enough to make your core ache and your skin tingle. He's chuckling as he moves you around, suddenly impatient as he noticed your panties won't leave your legs as fast as he wants them to. It irritates him to the point where he just rips them as the seams, the fabric now ruined, but neither of you care as his hand instantly finds its way down to cup your heat, ring- and middle finger collecting your slick to bring it upwards to your clit, thumb running in circles over it as you squirm and whine, making him smile.

You're so sweet like this, and he can't help but move your legs, pulling you closer to him in his usual rough manner- he's not capable of being all gentle and sweet, after all. He tries, he really does, but Jungkook is like an overgrown puppy; he doesn't know how much strength he actually has. And it shows, as you squeak, painfully so, as he had gripped your legs a bit too tightly; fingerprints already an angry red on your skin, and he cooes at you, apologizing. "I'm sorry, so sorry.." He hushes against your skin, placing sweet kisses on the pulsing marks on your leg. "can't help it baby.." He muses, and you simply nod your head, hands reaching out for him as he smiles again, kissing your lips, finally.

He's never been fond of the gesture before, not understanding why something as unsanitary as this could be meant to signify any romance at all. But eventually he's gotten to know the intimacy of it, and had decided for himself that he'll never kiss anyone but you in his life. He doesn't want anyone but you anyways. You're his, for now, and forever.

"You're so sweet angel, you know that?"

He humms it against your neck as he finally rids himself of his own clothes, erection hard and proudly waiting to bury itself into your sweet cunt. "Hmm.." He humms again, amusement in his voice as he continues to draw patterns over your sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "I still can't believe how I fit inside that pretty body of yours." He says, as you suddenly feel the hot skin of his length against your middle. "Can't believe you can take it so well princess." His hand leaves your core finally, as he slowly enters you, making you mewl as he groans.

He doesn't have much self-restraint, but every time you're together like this, you're both amazed by how much he can control himself. The way he plays you like an expensive instrument makes you hang from his hands like a puppet on its strings. And you love it- the simple fact that he's able to do anything he wants with you, yet he'd never use you just to throw you away. He'd never hurt you. You know this.

He grins as he places his hand over the slight bulge forming underneath your skin where his cock is moving inside you, all warm and swollen, impatient as he can't help but move more vigorously, harder than before, as your body moves along with the beat he's giving you. He's in control, its impossible to lie about that and you don't see any problem with that. Your mind is empty, only pleasure remains as he bites down onto your skin again, hands roaming as if they can't decide where they want to stay; because it's the truth after all. He can't decide what he loves most about you, if your body is whats the most desirable or if its your soul locked inside of it and chained to his own like a prisoner. He gets a kick out of this feeling, out of the way you're speared on his cock like the doll you are, and if he desired to, he could simply snap your bones like those pepero snacks you always eat, and it would be just as sweet as they taste. Yet he doesn't- he's being oh so generous with you, letting you live beside him, keeping you as safe as he could at his side, never to let anything come close to you. You're his.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also head over heels in love with you.

You don't know what it was this time.

You only know that he's currently in your shared apartment, having returned from Job hunting, and by the sounds of crashing glass, he's probably having another one of those days. You know you should just leave him, but ever so often your own curiosity gets the best of you, and you sit up on the bed, dressed in nothing but a shirt, your panties, and socks to keep your feet warm, since the heating in your apartment broke months ago. You carefully open the bedroom door, peaking around the wood to spot him as he currently kicks his shoes off in an ever so violent manner. He spots you, eyes dark and feral, but this time it's not lust in them. "Get back inside." He barks out, and you know why he does it.

He wants to keep you safe.

Against all odds he knows what he is. He knows he's sick, knows he's a danger to himself and others, and that's why he's always telling you to stay away from him whenever his anger is boiling over like this. It's his way of keeping you safe, keeping you protected and you know better than to go against his own judgement. He knows himself best, after all.

Only as you can hear him hiss in pain do you go against him.

As the apartment grows quiet, you slowly step outside the room again, eyes searching for the form of your boyfriend, before finally spotting him near the kitchen table, one hand on it, while the other is held close to his chest. You can see blood on the white cracked tiled floor close to him, and you immediately grow worried for him. You slowly creep inside the bathroom, retrieving some stuff from the first aid kit, as you walk back outside, spotting him on the couch now. "..kookie?" You carefully ask, wary of any signs of his body that he's not yet down to earth yet. But he doesn't move at all. You slowly walk around the couch, squatting down in front of him as your hands carefully reach out for his inked arm, and he lets you, his eyes eerily not looking at anything at all. You hiss a bit and sit down on his lap as he doesn't argue with you, almost delicately treating his wounded skin. He's probably somehow cut himself on the broken glass from the photo frame he broke. He seems awfully exhausted, which isn't a new sight to you. He usually is after a day like that.

"We're gonna loose the apartment." He says darkly, yet you don't stop what you're doing, simply humming an acknowledgement at him, while you don't look up at him. "Are you even listening?!" He suddenly barks out, grabbing your wrists as you look at him; not in fear however. You simply wait for him, like you always do, until he suddenly looks down onto his hands, letting go of your now red wrists with a look on his face like his favorite puppy has just been killed. "They simply said because of my criminal record they can't employ me-" He began, already getting riled up again as you kissed his cheek to distract him before he could slip again. With you situated on his lap like that, it could prove fatal.

"I'm gonna get a job, from home maybe. We'll figure things out." You softly say, and he doesn't seem like he quite believes you. He doesn't need to, at least not yet. It takes time, but you'll take yourself the time you need, even if its someone else's. Its not like he ever really cared about whats who's after all. "I still love you, you know?" You say, and that's when he breaks.

For the first time in those years you know him, he falls to the ground, crashes onto concrete with full force, and it wrecks through his entire body as he pulls you close, sobbing into your neck as he hiccups and chokes on his emotions, his hug painfully tight, but you don't complain. You're too shocked by his state to react much, other than running a hand over his back in a hopefully soothing manner. He doesn't stop for a moment, and you don't have a good feeling for time, so you cant tell how long you both sit like this, until he's finally exhausted to the point of simple slumping down, asleep as his body finally gives up. You carefully stand up, letting him somehow softly fall to his side as you struggle to pull his legs up to properly lay o the couch. Walking into the bedroom you retrieve blankets for him and yourself, as you crawl underneath his arm to lay against his chest, underneath the blankets, as you try and think of a way to help him.

You can't get a job. Not only because he won't let you, but because you get sick too easily. You're not allowed by doctors advice to work in any field that requires direct customer contact- and sadly that's all your educational level would allow you to work in. It never bothered Jungkook however, if anything he welcomed it as a good reason for you to stay at home, and at his side at all times. For him however, there were different reasons he didn't have a job. He couldn't keep one, with his short temper making him unfit for any job that required him to handle other people. He was a bomb ready to explode any moment at all times, and it was hard for him to land a job at any interview he somehow got. And nowadays, as word got around, no one simply wanted to employ him; stories of him going off at complaints and always being ready to throw hands made him the talk of the town in terms of who to look out for. He also had a criminal record- which didn't make the situation any easier.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. And it's a serious issue.

You somehow made it another month concerning rent.

With you selling some clothing you made yourself for a reasonable price, you somehow had at least a bit of an income, yet Jungkook didn't really seem like himself these days. He didn't leave the apartment much, and seemed much more grim to everything around him. You somehow thought that maybe he was just in a bad mood- but it seemed like this time things were a bit more serious than that.

"Princess?" He calls, as you rub your hand over the side of your neck, having laid on the couch weirdly as you had been taking a nap recently. You perked up at his call, walking out of the open kitchen to meet his gaze in the living room, his eyes serious as he pats his thighs; an invitation for you to sit down. He likes having you seated on his lap like this; it makes him feel all comfortable, knowing that you're so close to him. "I.." He starts, and visibly struggles with finding the right words for what he wants to say. "I want to get therapy." He states, and its quiet for a moment. You need to process his words for a second, as he never spoke about his issues like this. You never really thought about this option at all, and it makes you feel bad, deep inside, as you now realize that this was something you should've thought about as well, from the start on maybe. But you never wanted him to change for you; making you kick yourself in your thoughts. It never occurred to you that he wasn't changing for you, he didn't need to change for you, he needed to change for himself as well. You simply started to smile, and your arms snaked around his neck as he breathed in your scent, happy that you take this so well. He had struggled with the acceptance of it for a long time, and with you at his side, he knows he can somehow maybe change.

Even if its just a bit.

"I want to be a better man. For me, and mostly for you." He starts, and you attempt to speak, but he smiles, and kisses you instead, successfully shutting you up. "Don't say I don't need to. We know I do." He explains, and you nod. You're curious on why he suddenly realized it, but you decide not to dig too deep, as he currently seems vulnerable enough to you. So you simply let him hold you like this, quietly, calmly, while outside the thunderstorm continues, rain hitting the windows with as much force as the wind sees fit. Its ironic, really. Typically the situation is the opposite.

But somehow it feels like everything is changing, right in that moment. Just a few words have been spoken, but the ones that did make it out were a promise, a vow, a sentence of hope to finally get a hold on the future you both had dreamed about before, tangled in sheets and each others limbs. He's always said he wanted a family, as cheesy as it sounded to him back then, and then he'd laughed about it as if it was a joke. It somehow was, at least during that time it was; how could he be a better father than his if he was just the same? He didn't want his story to take a turn like that, to end up hurting you in the process of his own selfishness just to get what he wanted. No, he wanted something different in his life; he wanted his children to look up to him as a person they could be in awe of not because they were scared, but because they were proud to have them.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also finally realizing it.

Therapy never goes smoothly from A to point B. It's never a smooth ride, never a straight line connecting the start to the goal. And Jungkook is feeling that as he walks through the door, fuming after an in his eyes pointless session with his therapist. Why the fuck would they want to know about his childhood? That's his business and his own only, it doesn't concern anyone other than himself. Hell, he never even talked to you about it- and he sure as hell won't start chatting away with a stranger like this. He can't control himself as his fist connects with the wall next to the door, drywall cracking underneath the force as you stand in the middle of the living room, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He's disappointed in himself in that moment; he was supposed to get better. He was supposed to have himself in check by now, it was supposed to end; yet here he is, just the same as a month before he started. You try and walk towards him, and he's ready to tell you to turn around and leave him alone, but he doesn't. For some reason, this is not pure anger he's feeling.

It's frustration.

And it leads to his eyes watering, as he lets you hold him close, your warm palms running over his back as best as you can with the height difference, and he simply lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, breathing while you softly count next to his ear. He concentrates and lets go of his emotions all at once, taking his time to feel them before he opens his mind up to letting them go. It sounded stupid to him when he was told that this could help him, but now that he's doing it, he gets why its being taught. It helps. Its like a bandaid being taken off after your cut has heeled. It hurts a bit as its being taken off, but the fresh air on the newly connected skin feels so good that the short sting before is more than worth it.

He sniffles, and you giggle, making him chuckle as well, as he runs a hand over your head, a silent sign that he's okay now. "Try again next week. You're doing so great now, Kookie." You say, and its this small encouragmenent that makes him grin brightly.

Because as you both stand in the kitchen, making homemade pizza for the first time in ages, he feels at ease with his surroundings. He calms down rather quickly even though some things don't go as planned, and laughs more freely at his own mistakes as you smile brightly at him. Sometimes you feel like crying, seeing him change like this, but you're strong enough to hold it in until he leaves during the day. You're still unsure how the future will be changing, still a lot unknown to the both of you, but for now, you'll continue to keep each others heads above the waves with your sewing, while he does his best at getting better. You know he can make it, you're certain he can, and will.

Because Jungkook is sick. But he's finally getting help.

You don't know what has happened when he bursts through the door, uncaring to either take off his shoes nor to close it behind him, as he picks you up, spins you around, grinning so much his eyes crinkle at their sides, and you laugh, even though you don't know why he's so happy. "I got a job! Baby, I finally got a job!" He yells, screams almost, and it makes your eyes water; not because he's taking a huge weight off your shoulder, but because this has been one of his biggest goals ever since he started this journey of getting help. He's so happy about it that this time you can't keep it in, you can't stop the tears as they flow out, making you hiccup and wheep into his shoulder as you struggle to get your words out. "Baby- Princess, hey hey-" He says, setting you down as his hands wipe away at your eyes, the letter confirming his acceptance still in his left hand as he worriedly looks at you. "Why are you crying angel? hm?" He cooes, admittedly a bit amused, because he can imagine what's happening.

"I'm so happy!" You squeeze out, before another wave hits you, and he kneels down, holding you tightly again, as he doesn't let go of you, his love for you overflowing inside his veins as it fills his entire body. He's so thankful for your existence in his life, and he will never be truly able to properly tell you that. It's impossible to put it into his words how much he appreciates you staying at his side through this entire endeavor. Every time he's asked why he does this, his answer is always your name on his lips, always spoken with a slight smile, nowadays a bright grin he's not ashamed showing.

You don't let him go until he chuckles. "Will you let me close the door at least?" He asks amused, as he feels the slightly cool breeze coming inside from the complex' hallway. You disconnect yourself from him for a moment, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he closes the door, finally taking off his shoes at last, as he walks back, running towards you with a playful growl that makes you laugh as you try and run away from him. But he catches you easily, carrying you over his shoulder into the bedroom, where he bites and licks at your neck, hands pinching your sides making you squirm around and laugh, desperately trying to get away from him. He'll never let you, and you know this, so its unsurprising that he's suddenly pulling your sweater over your head, needing to be close to you. It's cold inside the apartment, and you shiver as the almost icy air around you nips at your skin. "Can't wait until we can use the heating again.." He murmurs against your skin as he shifts around a bit, carefully undressing himself before he crawls underneath the heavy covers with you. "then you can flaunt around in your pretty underwear all day without getting cold." He chuckles, as you hit his chest playfully at the remark. "What? Its always so cold I never get to see you in it." He whines, as he reaches between your legs, inked hand easily working you up as you squirm around. "I never get to see your pretty body properly because we have to hide away like this." He complains, and you simply whine at him, as he suddenly enters you. "For now I'll just warm you up like this, hm?" He humms out, and you nod, not really understanding what you're agreeing to, but you do it anyways.

He's awfully slow and soft, you notice, as he' way more collected as usual. "I love this." He suddenly presses out, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the side if your neck, trailing down to nip at your collarbone, while his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers in a gesture you can only describe as awfully romantic. "I love being able to make love to you." He explains, as you open your eyes a bit, meeting his as he watches you underneath him. "Though I think you don't mind me being a bit rough with you, no?" He playfully suggests, and your cheeks grow a bit red at that, before he laughs, head dipping down to properly kiss your lips, tongue instantly searching for entrance as he doesn't pick up the pace. "Can't wait until you're all round with my baby." He suddenly suggests, and your eyes open wide as you open your mouth to correct him, but you shut up as his eyes meet yours, determination in them as he suddenly grabs the behind of your thighs, positioning them a bit differently to hit even deeper. "I know, I know-" He chants, as he picks up his pace. "I don't care." He presses out between his own heavy breaths. "I'll just-" He begins, loving the way you mewl under his touch, "I'll just fuck you over and over again until it works." He promises, and you simply nod, unable to deny him. The chances you'll ever conceive are slim- but as he states, never zero. "I'll just- I'll just fill you up until your body can't help but give me a child." He muses, as you start to clench. And he knows, notices, how much this idea is just as enticing to you as it is to him. "You gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and you nod vigorously before you arch your back off the mattress, making him groan as he shoots his load as well, the visual image of your pleasure underneath him combined with the way you clench his aching length inside granting him his release as well.

As you lay on your sides, all snuggled up underneath the covers after cleaning up, he kisses your bare shoulder, eyes closed. "I mean it, you know." He says, and you humm a reply, before he explains further. "I want a family with you. Someday. When I'm ready." He says, and you nod. You'll somehow make it work, you know this. If he can overcome his demons, you can overcome your own cursed body as well. You deeply hope, at least.

Because Jeon Jungkook is sick, but he's starting to see a future.

"Jeon!" His coworker yells in the big hall he's working in. "Why, pray tell, did you never tell us your girl is that fucking pretty, aye?" He barks in a playful manner, as you walk inside beside the old man, carrying a small plastic bag with what he assumes is a lunchbox. The view of you next to that man stirs something inside him, as he slowly gets up, wrench still in his hand, brows furrowed.

"Because your filthy hands should stay six feet away from her." He responds, with his brows still furrowed, before he finally sneezes.

"Bless you, hah! I'll let you have your break earlier-" The old man winks at you, then gives Jungkook a firm hit against the chest, taking the wrench away from him. "But only because she's cute!" He laughs, as he walks into the hall, Jungkook now walking towards you.

You're proud of him.

Months ago, this would've never been possible; neither the simple fact that he had a job, nor the small incident with his coworker just now. He still got easily irritated, but he worked through these emotions way more easy nowadays. His coworkers and boss know of his past, know what he was like and know that he's still deep in therapy, but they don't judge. They simply accept him, tame him back into his cage whenever he's close to boiling over again. You love the fact that you can walk inside the breakroom with him, eyes sparkling with newfound childish playfulness as he peaks inside the bag you brought him. He's still very careful with you leaving the house, but its not anymore just for his own gain- he's more open to his surroundings, he's starting to think about how he and his actions can affect others. He doesn't care much still; but he's realized that pretending is enough for now. Small steps.

"The handyman was there today." You say, as you watch him dig into the fried rice you brought him, his interest now gained. "They turned on the heating again. Can you imagine? I didn't even know we had floorboard heating!" You exclaimed excitedly, and Jungkooks eyes widen as well.

"Really? I didn't know either. Fuck, can't wait to come home now." He says, swallowing his bite before taking a sip of his canned soda. "Did that label contact you yet?" He asks, and you shake your head. Recently, you had gained the interest of a bigger clothing label, who wanted to collaborate with you for this season's designs. "Ah, that takes time I guess. We'll wait, its fine." You know he's not only saying that for you, but himself as well. He still gets agitated over small things, but he deals with them a bit more easily. "I'll be home in a couple hours. Do you wanna wait here, or go home?" He asks, and you stand up, packing his now empty food container as you smile.

"I'll take the bus, don't worry." You say, and he furrows his brows playfully.

"Mask?" He asks, and you hold it up proudly, well aware of the precautions you need to take to make public transport safe for you.

"Good girl. Text me when you're home yeah? I'll get us takeout for dinner." He says, as he kisses the top of your head. You nod, and wave him goodbye as you two go separate ways, at least for now, until he's finally free of work.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

But he's slowly healing.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #dom!jungkook #dom jungkook #Bad Habits!AU

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

Okay so pro hero kiri has this big fat crush on his co worker! Reader who unintentionally rejecting his moves on her because she is so shy and awkward but slowly she shown some signs that she is into him so he changes tactics and acts more romantic which adds bonus points once he sees her blush when she reads the note attached to a deep red rose! fast forward to a couple of months of pinning and he is getting very frustrated especially with her enticing soft curves of her body so (1/2) 🌠 anon

oof okay listen!!!! open ur ears!!! I have something to say

(Warnings - stalking, Somnophilia, dubcon, NSFW, unsafe sex, blood from a bite wound but it’s very brief lol)

You’re a little paper pusher at his agency, you barely even interact with the big man, but he always makes time to swing by your desk and chat for a bit before he heads home.

Unfortunately, you’re about as smooth as a piece of burnt toast. His casual flirting goes right over your head, and you keep rejecting his advances and it’s so fucking frustrating. Can’t you see how hard he’s fallen for you? Kiri doesn’t understand why you look away whenever he bends down to rest his elbows on your desk, giving you the perfect view down his shirt to see his fat pecs (the man knows he’s got a banging’ body okay). He doesn’t get why you shy away from his touch when he tries to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Kirishima can’t comprehend why you always turn him down when he mentions going out with you and some other co-workers (to make you feel more at-ease, he knows he can be intimidating) for drinks or a bite to eat.

He’s stressed - the man really wants to get to know you, but it’s like you’re completely oblivious to his intentions. He’s pretty sure you just see him as a goofy extroverted coworker that loves people. After all, he does stop and say hi to several other people every day as he makes his way over to your desk.

So Kirishima decides to up his game. Starts making his feelings obvious. He gets more touchy, perching on your desk to reach and rub your shoulders, laughing at your jokes and (gently) smacking a hand against your leg like a giggly schoolgirl. He talks about his workout routine and asks you if you think his muscles have been getting bigger. Could you check? Just with a hand around his bicep of course.

He buys a few gifts here and there; a cup of coffee for you with his number on the lid, a new pen when he noticed your favorite one broke, cute socks because he’s seen you wearing cute ones before, and he saw them and thought of you.

Each and every gift is accepted with the biggest blush he’s ever seen. You turn beet red, flush stretching down your neck and disappearing underneath your shirt. Kirishima chides himself for wanting to see how far the flush went, for wanting to rip off your shirt and bend you over right here and now.

But he didn’t like you just for your body, and he was willing to wait.

Kirishima feels emboldened by the success of his other gifts, so he decides to write out his feeling in a note, get you a bunch of flowers, and present them to you Friday night. That way, you’d have time to think things over and process your own feelings before you saw Kiri again on Monday. To him, it seemed like the perfect plan.

And god, you were so cute when he gave you the flowers, he wanted to kiss you on the nose and then taste your lips, right then and there.

But he didn’t.

He gave you a soft pat on the back before walking away. He was around the corner before he heard you gasp, which immediately made him backtrack and peek his head out so he could see you. Was it a good gasp? Or a bad gasp?

You had a little smile on your face, eyes twinkling as you read the note.

Kirishima pumped his fist, heart soaring. He finally got through to you.

Except he hadn’t.

On Monday, you didn’t say anything to him, hardly even looked at him. When he came by your desk to ask what you thought of the note, all he got was a fierce blush and mumbled sentences, before you bolted off to the bathroom.

It’s like he was back at square one.

It made Kirishima feel... inadequate. His old middle-school insecurities came creeping back into his life. Was he not good enough? Was he just too boring and dull and you didn’t know how to tell him without hurting his feelings? What was wrong with him?

But he was an adult now, he could handle rejection.

The thing is, you weren’t rejecting him.

You baked him cookies, dropping them off in his office while he was out, but they had your name on them and the most adorable little note, and Kirishima’s heart almost exploded. Plus, they tasted delicious.

He got a text from you one night, a cute picture of a spiky red dog and a “this reminded me of you... Sleep well! <3″ and he spent the rest of the night imagining your wedding.

You kept showing signs that you were interested, yet you wouldn’t even look at him in person. Kirishima concluded that you were just too shy.

That was okay. He realized that the more time he gave you, the more you opened up to him. Maybe in a few months, the two of you could go on a date or something!

In the meantime, the man liked to check up on you, make sure you were safe. He was invested in you now, subtly following you home some nights to make sure nobody looked at you wrong.

He broke into your apartment quite often, but it was entirely justifiable! He wasn’t being a creep (okay, well, maybe just a little), he was just being a good friend, a good coworker. He had to make sure everything was safe, that no one could get in (other than him), that you hadn’t left a candle burning or the stove going.

You slept like a rock, staying asleep even when Kirishima accidentally knocked a cup off your counter and broke it. To his surprise, there was no awakening, no screaming, yelling for him to get out or that he was a weirdo. Just you, snoring in your bed, a tiny bit of drool at the side of your mouth.

It was such a domestic scene, it warmed Kiri’s heart.

Sometimes the man liked to slip into bed beside you, frame creaking under his weight. It was a tight squeeze-he was a large man and your bed was made for one (1) person, but Kirishima didn’t mind. It just meant he got to press close to you, feel the warmth of your smaller body, hear your quite little huffs and snores and mumbles as you slept.

He let himself relax, sink into the mattress. The next time he crawled into your bed, he let himself wrap an arm around you. The time after that, Kirishima felt brave enough to scooch under the covers, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he found that your pajamas consisted of a giant shirt and panties.

Bare legs.

Glad that he wasn’t a teenager anymore, he didn’t have to worry about cumming in his pants. Still, he found himself leaving your apartment with a chubbed-up cock more often than not.

You were just so soft. He wanted to touch all of you, to lick all over and get your plush flesh in-between his teeth. He wanted to bite into your shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress, pumping you with load after load of cum, until your stomach was swollen and you cried because you felt sick.

But Kirishima also wanted to hold you close, take showers together and wash your hair for you, make coffee in the morning and talk about last night’s episode of “Chopped”. He wanted to give you sappy smooches before getting to work, make you laugh with goofy jokes and give you hugs, pick you up and twirl you around whenever he saw you after being apart, no matter if it were days or minutes.

The nasty, dirty thoughts warred with the soft, gentle ones. Sometimes they mixed, Kirishima daydreaming of sweet, romantic sex.

He just wanted you so bad.

One night, he’s crawled into bed with you like usual, rubbing a sock-clad foot over your bare legs, pressing chaste little kisses to the top of your head as he draws you into his arms. It was nigh impossible to wake you, so he felt no fear or apprehension in taking such bold actions.

Shuffling in your sleep, you throw a leg over his hip, snuggling deeper into the solid warmth that is his body. Kiri sighs, contented.

And then you start making noises.

Little huffs of breath, tiny whimpers, and when Kirishima looks down, your eyebrows are drawn up. You twitch against him, against the thick thigh that you had slung your leg over, and then repeat the motion.

You’re.... You’re having a wet dream.

Kirishima lets out a shaky breath, trying to focus so he doesn’t crush your arm with his excited grip. You’re rutting against him steadily now, dragging your damp cunt against his leg, sighing at the friction, lips parted.

His cock is rapidly hardening, and he wants to rub himself against your stomach, feel the cling of his shirt as he rucks it up with his rhythmic humping. But he doesn’t.

He’s a gentleman, he wouldn’t take advantage of you like that. You’re just having an unconscious reaction to a man being in your bed. Maybe further down the road, when he’s taken you on many romance-filled dates, then he can lay you down and whisper into your ear how much he loves you while the two of you make love.

The man is so taken with that fantasy that he almost misses the gentle gasp of a name falling from your lips.

But he didn’t, because it was his name.

A shiver ran through him; excitement? fear of you waking up? He didn’t know. When he checked your face, you were still asleep, letting out those little whimpers and moaning his name quietly.

God was real.

God was real, and he had made angels, and you were one of them.

And lord forgive him, because Kirishima was about to sin.

How could he hold himself back? You were humping his leg, moaning his name and panting, in your sleep. You wanted him, you were just too shy to initiate or accept Kiri’s advances.

Theres no way he’s holding himself back.

Covers are thrown off, Kirishima quickly detaching from you (oh how he missed your warmth immediately) to shuck off his clothes, almost falling on his face as he ripped off his socks.

Then he’s looming over you, quickly pulling up your shirt, lifting your head gently, guiding your arms out. Your panties came off next, slid down your legs with shaky, excited hands.

Kirishima wanted to worship you. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, laid there on the bed, whining in your sleep for him, thighs rubbing together. He felt himself salivating, jaw itching to open and clamp down, to eat you whole. He wanted all of you.

Climbing back on the bed, Kiri pumped his cock a few times, precum flowing from the tip helping to smooth the way. He was going to fuck you now.

No preamble, the man just spread your legs, settling between them. A quick rub of your pussy with his fingers had him finding it already drenched, and he groaned quietly, the hand around his cock moving faster.

He shifted back slightly, only far enough to lift your legs, pressing your thighs up and back towards your chest. Your breathing changed slightly, but Kirishima wasn’t paying attention to that now. He didn’t care if you woke up now, you had just been dreaming about him. He was your wet dream come true, you’d surely appreciate how good he was about to make you feel.

Lining up was a bit more difficult than Kirishima was used to - he’d never been this excited to fuck someone in his life, hands trembling, heart beating out of his chest, sweat slicking his skin. But then the tip of his fat cock slipped inside, stretching you open, and all was right in the world for Kirishima.

He wanted to slam home, to push and push until he was balls deep and his tip was kissing your cervix. But he held himself back - he hadn’t stretched you, and he didn’t like the idea of hurting you in that way, he wanted your first time with him to feel good.

So he went slow, pushing inside an inch, waiting. Pushing another inch, then waiting. Waiting waiting waiting, he almost couldn’t rein in his desires. But he did, for you.

“Kiri?” You mumbled, eyes fluttering open. Kirishima wasn’t expecting you to speak so clearly, hips jumping forward, seating himself the rest of the way inside your heavenly warmth as the man swore.

“Kiri?” Clearer now, with a hint of panic. Kirishima looked up, and you were fully awake now, looking at the man with wide eyes.

“Hey baby.” He whispered, smiling gently. Your hands rose, one resting against his bicep, the other settling on his chest, and he shivered at your touch, at the feel of your tiny little hands on his flesh.

“What’s-? When did you....?” It was so cute, the confused scrunch of your face. You were still fighting the mist of sleep, blinking owlishly up at the man on top of you. Fear hadn’t kicked in, although it was simmering underneath the surface.

“Hey, shhh. Don’t worry, I’m here. Gonna make you feel the best, you’re my pretty little girl, know that? I’ve been waiting so long for you.” He whispered, swooping down for a gentle kiss.

You didn’t fight him, just accepted the lips pressing against yours with confusion. It probably felt like you were still in a dream, hazy and relaxed.

Kirishima couldn’t wait anymore, his cock was throbbing, your insides were molten and he felt like he was going to explode. He wanted, no, needed to move.

His first thrust was small, just a quick schlick out, and the same noise when he pushed back in. You were sopping wet, and the slide made it easy for him to move. Even more proof that you wanted this.

You gasped, eyes fluttering closed as you pulled away from the kiss. Kiri huffed out a joyful, breathless laugh as he thrusted again, sparks of pleasure lighting up in his gut.

“Mm, Kiri wait-” You moaned, nails digging into his bicep and chest. Kirishima ignored you, speeding up, trying to angle his hips to find your sweet spot. One of his hands held your hip, the other brushing your hair out of your eyes as he cooed at you. “Pretty baby, my beautiful girl. You’re making me feel amazing, love you so much. Feeling good? I can feel you trying to milk my cock. You want my cum?”

Dazed, assaulted by so many sensations straight out of sleep, you couldn’t exactly grasp what was going on. But Kirishima’s question snapped you fully awake, and you squirmed against his body. “No, no, don’t do that.” You mumbled.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I’m gonna pump you nice and full, you’ll feel all warm and round. Look so cute like this.” He grunted, going harder and harder with his hips.

Then he angled just right, striking your sweet spot, and you cried out in pleasure, bucking your hips involuntarily. “Mm, there we go. Feels good, doesn’t it honey?”

It was a rhetorical question - you were too busy writhing on Kirishima’s cock to answer, one of his hands pressing flat over your stomach to feel the subtle bulge of his cock as he fucked into your guts.

“Oh Kiri! Wait, I’m not-! Wait!” You whimpered, steadily reaching your orgasm. You didn’t want to cum, you needed to slow down and gather your wits, figure out what was happening and why Kirishima was here and when this had started and-

Kiri pulled out, quickly manhandling you as if you weighed nothing. He was so strong, it was easy for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling you to your hands and knees.

“Gonna fuck you full. You’re gonna take all of my cum, gonna get bred like a good girl, my good girl.” His teeth were clenched as he slid back home, hissing as your wet heat welcomed him. You whined at the pleasurable sensation, unable to stop your hips from fucking back, trying to take more of his cock.

“Ohhh, fuck yeah, look at you. Knew you wanted this, wanted me. You’re so perfect, taking my cock so well. You like having my fat cock filling you up? Messing up your insides? Making you all wet and sloppy?”

His hand found its way to your clit, the area already wet from the copious amounts of slick and precum the two of you had produced. Kiri quickly began rubbing large circles over your button, thumb big and calloused and oh so good.

Kirishima’s other hand grabbed at your chest, attaching to your tit and pawing at you. He was quickly devolving into a feral man, animalistic in the way he fucked you, thrusts harsh and fast and too much but hitting you just right-

You cried out as you came, convulsing in the man’s arms at the strength of the orgasm he ripped from your body.

He didn’t take a second, spurred on by your orgams and the tightening of your cunt, and instinctively bit down on your shoulder, almost growling as he pounded into you.

“Fuck, fuck! Kiri ouch, fuck!” You yelped, his sharp teeth breaking skin.

The man paid you no heed, rabbiting his hips until he started to cum, his hot seed flowing into your pussy. His hips kept going, twitching as they slowed down until they stopped completely, both of you absolutely spent.

Nothing but the sounds of panting filled the air, and Kirishima finally unhooked his teeth from your shoulder, wincing at the stream of blood the started to roll down your back.

“Oh, baby m’sorry.” He mumbled, a bit drunk off the pleasure still coursing through his veins. You collapsed forward, his arms no longer holding you up.

Kirishima didn’t pull out as he laid down next to you, keeping your hips firmly cemented to his own so that none of his cum would escape, pulling you close to his body in the process. “Pretty baby, I love you. Thank you.”

It was just a dream, it had to be. You were left with no choice but to console yourself with that thought, unable (and unwilling) to think of any other possibilities.

A wet tongue lapped at your back, Kirishima licking up the blood from the wound he inflicted. “I’ll be more gentle next time, I can be good with my teeth, I promise.”

You ignored him, letting your exhausted self flicker between awake and asleep, confused, disoriented, overwhelmed.

What did he mean by “next time”?

#yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #Kirishima Eijirou #mha kirishima #kirishima #yandere bnha #dark kirishima #tw dubcon #tw noncon

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 3 years

Text

Forbidden 3

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re Tony’s sister and you just so happen to be very attracted to the one man that gets on your brother’s nerves, Steve Rogers. Unknowingly to you, the older man also has his eyes on you despite your circumstances.

Warnings: Gun violence, mentions of blood

REPOST because Tumblr has been acting up!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

MASTERLIST

———

"Guys Y/N's still here" rolling your eyes you took a swig of your beer as the team grumbled

"Great another week of you being bitchy, just what we needed" Tony chucked a peanut in your direction and you couldn't help but laugh at their behaviour

"Oh come on, I told y'all that I didn't need to have sex, I was just having a bad day" unbuckling the straps of your nude heels you kicked them off, stretching your legs out on Thor's lap

"More like a bad week if you ask me" Steve piped up eyes flicking down to Thor's lap ever so often

"You're one to talk old man"

"Yeah Steve when was the last time you got any? My body still hurts from training a couple days ago, you didn't hold back man" Sam plopped down on the sofa next to the blonde man who downed the remaining of his drink

"You guys back off alright, I'm pretty sure Capsicle here has had his fair share of romance"

"Tony I don't think a kiss from 1945 is considered a fair share of romance" the group bursted out laughing at the man's depressing love life

"You guys are ruthless" giggling you crossed your legs and Thor placed his hand on your knee as if this was a common thing between you two

Thor started telling stories about life on Asgard and how many times Loki had tried to kill him. During this particular story you felt a heated gaze focused on you from across the room. Looking up you and Steve locked eyes, you noticed the fire hidden behind his eyes as the God of Thunder continued to rub his hand on your legs

Is he jealous? He can't be right?

There is no way that Steve could have the same feelings towards you

"Y/N why don't you be the one to show Rogers a good time?" Clint joked and Tony smaked him upside the head

"I would rather gouge my eyes out before I ever let that happen"

"Why though, I mean look at him" you don't know if it was the alcohol talking but you sure as hell couldn't back out of the conversation now as the room fell silent, all eyes on you and Tony

"Y/N the man is ancient"

"Your point?" flabbergasted Tony stared at you, completely lost for words while Steve held his hand over his lips to disguise his smile

Natasha smirked at you, ready to say something when gunshots rang out, glass shattering around you from the stray bullets. Thor immediately shifted you both off the couch and onto the floor, shielding your body with his as your attackers continued to fire their weapons

Reaching below the coffee table you grabbed the loaded gun that you always kept there in case something like this were to ever happen. The bullets stopped as heavily armed men invaded the room through the broken windows

Thor summoned his hammer as you and Natasha started firing at the men. Steve engaged in hand to hand combat, easily disarming his target before knocking them out. In the corner of your eyes you briefly noticed the familiar metal frisbee a few feet away from you

"Cover me!"

You moved as fast as you could towards the corridor, trying your best to stay low. You grabbed onto the cold metal and called out to Steve as you lauched the shield in his direction, he ducked as it knocked out the man

More gunshots rang out, this time they came from behind you, you quickly dived behind the bar taking cover. The gun cocked and you took the chance and popped up, firing your weapon. He fell to the ground as another shot went off, hitting you in your side

Groaning you stood your ground and shot him point blank before sliding down to the floor, pressing firmly onto your wound. Every fibre of your being burned from the excrusiating pain

Bruce came to your aid, trying his best not to turn into Hulk. He replaced your hands with his as he applied firm pressure to stop you from bleeding out on the floor

The fighting came to an end as Steve knocked the last guy unconcious

"Guys Y/N's been hit"

"I'm fine" brushed Bruce's hand away, hauling yourself up to your feet, you barely made two steps when your legs gave out beneath you, Steve catching you before you could hit the deck

He gently picked you up in his arms as Banner rushed you to the infirmary to get the bullet out and patch you up

Not even five minutes later you were laying on the bed while Banner started locating the bullet that's still inside of you, the rest of the team sat around in the room still trying to wrap their heads around what took place

Steve stood next to you the entire time, his hand brushing against yours debating if he should hold onto yours while Bruce was stitching you up. You subtly slipped your hands into his and he half heartedly smiled down at you

"Okay, you'll survive just try not to pop any stiches during the next three weeks and you'll be alright" Bruce finished applying the patch over your stitches and you moved to sit up but Steve shot you a stern look, silently telling you to not do that

"What the hell was that?" Natasha asked, picking fragments of glass from the soles of her feet. Your brother furrowed his brows, the wheels in his brain working over time, reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone

"You guys aren't going to believe this"

Tony flipped his phone showing us the video message he received from the douchebag you guys had captured on your last mission

"My friends, I hope you all hadn't thought that you all had seen the last of me. My apologise for the mess, I had to make sure you all were going to give me your undivided attention"

Going against Steve's demands you sat up as the video played out

"You all took something that belongs to me and I want it back or else the Avengers would be a thing of the past" the video ended and we all shared the same look of confusion

“What the hell is he talking about?” Rhodey broke the deafening silence, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, deep in thought

Kage was known for selling high teach weapons on the black market off the coast of Africa. He had been on our radar since we were on the hunt for Ulysses Klaue when Ultron was a threat. The first time we crossed paths with him he managed to escape while we were being mind controlled by Wanda and since the we hadn't seen him until he finally slipped up a few weeks ago

"I remember going through his case files, nothing stood out from what we already knew"

"We missed something" groaning you swung your legs over the edge of the bed ready to get to work despite being slightly buzzed from all the alcohol

"We've got our work cut out for us, I suggest we start digging. Romanoff, Barton, go over the interview from his arrest see if he gave any clues. Stark and Banner, start looking at satillites, cameras anything that we could use to track his movements. The rest of us would be going over the files that we have on Kage" Steve assigned us our tasks and everyone dispersed leaving you and Steve behind

"Let’s get to work” standing up you were about to walk to the door when he held onto your wrist

“Not you” spinng around you collided into his firm chest and he steadied you, breath fanning against your face with each breath he took

"Cap I'm fine" looking up at him you shot him a small smile, placing your hand on his forearm giving it a reassuring squeeze, enjoying having Steve so close to you

You're eyes flickered between his eyes and lips, mind flooding with thoughts of kissing him. Steve did the same feeling himself start to lean in but he caught himself in time. Clearing his throat, he backed up putting distance between you both, snapping out of his trance

"Okay…but you should change into something more comfortable" your heart dropped as he straightened up, you tried not to show your disappointment as you headed out the door with him trailing behind

A smile played on your lips as you replayed that moment

Steve does have feelings for you

-----

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 6

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 6 - This Venerable One's Shizun

Xue Meng had lived on Life-Death Peak since he was a child. He was familiar with shortcuts and terrain so he had no problem catching up with Mo Ran

He escorted him all the way to the back of the mountain. The back mountain of Life-Death Peak was the closest place to the ghost realm in the whole world, separated by an enchantment, behind it is the netherworld.

Looking at the miserable situation in the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person was clearly at home, but still needed Madam Wang to treat guests in the front hall.

It wasn't that the man didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t step away--

The barrier of the ghost world was broken.

At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with a heavy spiritual resentment. The ghosts that hadn't taken on a body howled and hovered bitterly in the air. At the entrance of the mountain gate, there was a giant breach ripping through the sky. Behind the breach was the ghost realm, and a tall, bluestone staircase stretching thousand of steps escaped from the barrier cracks. Seeing out from the staircase, the fierce spirits that had regained a flesh body were climbing down this step disorderly and chaotically, rushing from the underworld to the human world.

Any ordinary person would be terrified at the scene unfolding. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was shocked to the bone, but he was used to it now.

The barrier between the human and ghost realms was set by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. Today, it was very weak. It would grow weak spots every now and again, which need to be repaired by immortal cultivators. However, this kind of thing not only does little to improve one's cultivation but is thankless with how much spiritual energy it consumes. It was a real drudgery, so few immortals in the upper cultivation world were willing to take this job.

When a fierce spirit was born, the people of the Lower Cultivation Realm were the first to come under attack. As the protectors of the Lower Cultivation Realm, Life-Death Peak was forced to undertake the task of repairing the barrier. The back mountains of the sect faced the weakest point in the barrier all to ensure they could be repaired swiftly.

There would be breaks in the barrier about four or five times a year. It was just like an old, chipped pot; useless.

Now, at the entrance of the ghost world, on the long bluestone stairs, a man stood there with snow-coloured clothes and wide sleeves flowing in the wind. He was surrounded by the aura of his sword, the golden light shimmering. Using his own power to clear out the evil spirits and ghosts, he repaired the small holes appearing in the barrier.

The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance, with a holy aura and a handsome face. From a distance, it was easy to imagine he was a scholar reading an ancient scroll under a flowering tree. However, looking closely, he had sharp eyebrows, phoenix eyes slanted upwards, and the bridge of his nose was straight and narrow. While he seemed to be gentle and elegant, his eyes were mean and seemingly unkind.

Mo Ran glanced at him from a distance. Although he thought he had prepared himself, when he saw this man appear in front of him alive and healthy again, it made him tremble down to his smallest bones.

Half fear, half. . . excitement.

His Shizun.

Chu Wanning.

This was the person that Xue Meng had cried and begged to see when he arrived at Wushan Hall in the previous life.

It was this man that ruined Mo Ran's ambition, ruined his plans, and was finally imprisoned and tortured to death by Mo Ran because of it.

Logically speaking, if Mo Ran had the chance to avenge himself and defeat the enemy that had blocked his progress.

The sea is wide and free for fish to swim in, the sky is high and the birds could fly endlessly, no one could reign him back anymore. At least, that's what Mo Ran thought.

However, that doesn't seem to be the case.

After his Shizun died, something else seemed to have been buried along with his hatred.

Mo Ran was not a man of culture and didn't recognize any other feeling than being evenly matched with a worthy opponent.

He only knows that here on out, he had no archenemies.

When Shizun was alive, he had been afraid, paranoid, and anxious. When he saw the willow vine in Shizun's hand, the hair on the back of his neck stood on up. He became just like a beaten mutt, just the sound of a wooden club slap caused his teeth to ache and legs to give out. Even his calf muscles would spasm from fear.

Later, when Shizun died, the person Mo Ran had feared the most was finally gone. Mo Ran felt that he had grown and matured, being able to finally commit this act of murdering his teacher.

Afterwards, when looking at the mortal realm, no one dared force him to kneel down, and no longer slapped himself in the face.

To celebrate, he opened the pear blossom white wine, sat on the roof, and drank wine all night.

That night, under the influence of alcohol, the scars that Shizun had inflicted on his back when he was a teenager seemed to feel hot and painful again.

At this moment, when he saw Shizun reappear in front of him, Mo Ran started, filled with hate and anger, but there was also a slight twinge of ecstasy.

Such an opponent, lost and now regained, how can he not please?

Chu Wanning ignored the two apprentices who broke into the back mountains and continued concentrating on fighting the scattered undead.

His facial features were elegant, his eyebrows are evenly long. His phoenix eyes were cast downwards, his cool demeanour powerful. Amidst the demonic air and blood rain, his expression had not changed. His face remained calm, as though he might sit down and burn incense or play the guqin at the moment.

However, such a gentle and beautiful man, at that moment, was holding an icy exorcism long sword dripping with red blood droplets. With a flick of his wide sleeve, the sword's energy sliced through the bluestone steps in an explosion. Crushed stones and bricks rolled down, cracking an immeasurable chasm from the gate all the way to the bottom of the mountain, splitting the staircase and its thousands of steps!

So ferocious.

How many years had it been since he had seen his Shizun's power?

This familiar and powerful dominance made Mo Ran lose all his strength. Shakily, he fell onto his knees with a thump.

It didn't take long for Chu Wanning to kill all the ghosts, and neatly fill in the holes in the barrier to the ghost world. After doing all this, he fell from mid-air and went over to Mo Ran and Xue Meng.

He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes holding a powerful chill.

"Causing trouble again?"

Mo Ran sucked in a breath.

Shizun had the ability to always correctly assume any situation.

Xue Meng: "Shizun, Mo Ran went down the mountain, committing the two crimes of stealing and prostitution. Please punish him accordingly, Shizun."

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, expressionless. He coldly remarked: "I know."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Xue Meng: ". . ."

Both of them were a little confused. Then? Is that it?

However, just when Mo Ran thought tat he had gotten off lucky, he looked up at Chu Wanning and caught a a glimpse of a sharp golden light suddenly cutting through the air. There was a lightening-like crackling sound that slashed across Mo Ran's cheek!!

Drops of blood splashed everywhere!

The speed of that golden light was so fast, Mo Ran didn't even have a moment to close his eyes, let alone dodge it. The skin on his face was flayed open with a fierce pain.

Chu Wanning stood with his hands clasped behind his back, standing coldly in the chilling breeze of teh night air. The air was still filled with the foul aura of fierce spirits and ghosts mixed with the smell of human blood. It made the forbidden area of the back mountains appear even more eerie and terrifying.

In Chu Wanning's hand was a willow vine that had whipped Mo Ran. The vine was narrow and long, with green leaves sprouting from it, hanging down near the edge of his boots.

It was clearly sucha graceful object. Looking at it would have made people think of poems such as "Pliant is the the willow branch I gift to my beloved".

It's a pity that Chu Wanning was neither pliant or had a beloved.

The willow vine in his hand was actually a magic weapon named Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen was glimmering with golden red light, piercing through the surrounding darkness, and also reflecting in the bottomless depths of Chu Wanning's eyes.

Chu Wanning pursed his lips, and said sensibly: "Mo Weiyu, you are so bold. Should I really not do something to discipline you?"

If this really was the fifteen-year old Mo Ran, he might not have taken this exclamation seriously, thinking that Shizun was just trying to scare him.

But after being reborn, Mo Weiyu had thoroughly experienced Shizun’s "control" with his blood in his previous life. He immediately felt the roots of his teeth ache and blood rushing to his head. His mouth was already moving, ready to deny everything and clear his name

"Shizun. . ." His cheek still bleeding, Mo Ran raised his eyes, staining them with a thin veil of tears. He knew that his current appearance must look extremely pitiful. "This disciple has never stolen. . . has never laid with a prostitute. . . why did Shizun listen to Xue Meng's words and strike me without even listening to my side of the story?"

". . ."

Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle. First, act cute. Second, pretend to be pitiful. Now he tried these out on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears almost fell from his eyes: "Is the disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why doesn't Shizun even give me a chance to defend myself?"

Xue Meng stomped angrily next to him: "Mo Ran! You, you piece of shit! You truly are shameless! Sizun, don't listen to him, don't be fooled by this bastard! He really did steal! All the stolen goods are still on him!"

Chu Wanning looked through his eyelashes, his expression cold: "Mo Ran, you truly never stole?"

"Never."

". . . You should know the consequences of lying to me."

Mo Ran's arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But he still foolishly persisted: "Shizun, please!"

Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the shiny golden vine waved again, but this time he did not draw it on the face of Mo Ran. Instead, he used it to tightly bind Mo Ran.

This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to whipping people on the regular, the willow vine "Tianwen" has another function——

Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was held tightly in Tianwen's grasp, and asked again: "Have you never stolen?"

Suddenly, there was a familiar stabbing pain straight in Mo Ran's heart, as if a sharp fanged small snake had slid its way into his chest and was playing with his organs.

Accompanied by the severe pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn't help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: "I. . . never. . . ah. . . !!!"

Tianwen's golden light seemed to pick up on his lies, glowing harder. The pain caused Mo Ran to break out in a cold sweat, but he still desperately resisted such torture.

This was Tianwen's second function: interrogation.

Once tied up by Tianwen, no one could lie. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had a way of forcing them to speak and reveal the answer that Chu Wanning wanted to know.

In his last life, by relying on a strong cultivation base, there was only one person who had finally managed to keep a secret under Tianwen's influence.

That person was the person who had become the emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.

After being reborn, Mo Ran had hoped he'd have a bit of luck, thinking that he would still be able to resist the forced interrogation of Tianwen. But after biting his lip for what felt like forever, with big beads of sweat dripping down over his dark eyebrows and full-body trembles, he finally bowed before Chu Wanning's boots in pain, gasping for breath.

"I. . . I. . . stole. . ."

The pain abruptly disappeared.

Mo Ran hadn't even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder than before.

"Did you commit debauchery?"

Smart people don't do stupid things. Since he hadn't been able to resist before, it was even more impossible now. This time, Mo Ran didn't even resist, and when the pain struck, he went so far to even shout: "Yes yes I did!!!! Shizun please! No more!"

Xue Meng's face turned blue at his side. He exclaimed with shock: "You, how can you. . . That Rong Jiu is a man, you actually. . ."

No one paid attention to him. As the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, Mo Ran gasped for breath, his whole body was drenched as if he had just been fished from the water. His face was as white as paper, his lips still trembling, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

Through sweaty eyelashes, he looked up at Chu Wanning's elegant figure, wearing a green jade crown and wide sleeves that fell to the floor.

A strong hatred suddenly surged into his heart - Chu Wanning! This Venerable One wasn't wrong in is treatment of you in his past life, that much is true!! Even after being reborn, the hatred still burns strong! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!

Chu Wanning didn't know that this crafty disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood there for a while with a sullen expression, and then said.

"Xue Meng."

Although Xue Meng knows that men were the popular choice among rich businessmen and wealthy households, and many people play with male prostitutes just for something new and not really because they liked men, he still couldn't digest it. After a while, he said: "Shizun, this disciple is here."

"Mo Ran went against the three mandates on corruption, debauchery, and deception. Take him to the Yan Luo Hall so he can repent. Bring him to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil tomorrow morning so that he receive a public punishment."

Xue Meng was startled: "What. . .? Public punishment?"

Public punishment means taking the disciples who have committed severe transgressions in front of the disciples of the whole school, in front of everyone, even the ladies in the dining hall, and punishing them for the crowd.

Utterly shameful.

It should be known that Mo Ran was a disciple of Life-Death Peak. Although the disciplinary measures in the school were strict, because of Mo Ran's special status - his uncle pitied him for losing his parents so young and was scavenging outside for fourteen years - he couldn't bear to punish Mo Ran. No matter what Mo Ran did, he would just get a small lecture in private, and he would be beaten.

But Shizun wouldn't even save the face of the sect leader. He wanted to take his precious nephew to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil and publicly punish and shame Young Master Mo in front of the entire sect. This was something even Xue Meng hadn't expected.

Mo Ran, however, wasn't surprised.

He lay on the ground with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

How great and selfless his Shizun was.

Chu Wanning was truly cold-blooded. In his previous life, when Shi Mei died in front of him, Mo Ran cried and pleading, pulling on his clothes, kneeling on the ground and begging him for help.

But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear.

And so his disciple had breathed his last breath before him, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and ignored his sobs.

Now all he was doing was putting him on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to be dealt with before the public. There was nothing strange about this.

Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base was now. He couldn't peel off Chu Wanning's skin, rip out his nerves, drink his blood, can’t pull his hair back, can't insult him, can’t torture him and destroy his dignity, make him desire nothing but death. . .

He hadn't been able to hide the beast-like hatred in his eyes, and Chu Wanning picked up on it.

He faintly glanced at Mo Ran's face, a stoic expression on a gentle and elegant face.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fuck!

Tianwen hadn't been removed yet!

Mo Ran once again felt the vines tying him up, and his internal organs felt like they were about to be squeezed into mush. He yelled in pain, panting and roaring out the thoughts in his head——

"Chu Wanning, you think you're so refined! Watch me fuck you to death!"

No one made a sound.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Even Xue Meng was stunned: ". . ."

Tianwen suddenly retracted Chu Wanning's palm, turning into a small speck of golden light before disappearing altogether. Tianwen was made from the bones and blood of Chu Wanning and could appear when summoned and vanished at will.

Xue Meng's face was pale and he stuttered: "Shi-Shizun. . ."

Chu Wanning didn't say a word. His delicate black and slender eyelashes lowered, examining his palms for a while. Then, he raised his eyes, his face even, but his complexion even colder. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze saying "this disciple deserves death", then said in a low voice:

"Tianwen is broken, I am going to go fix it."

Chu Wanning threw down these words, turned and left.

Xue Meng was kind of slow: "How could an immortal weapon like Tianwen be broken?"

Chu Wanning heard it, and glanced back at him with a look of "this disciple deserves death" as well. Xue Meng shuddered.

Mo Ran lay on the ground, half-dead, with a blank expression.

What he had been thinking really was looking for a way to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew that the Master Chu, who held titles like "Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal", had always paid attention to elegance and correctness, and he couldn't stand being stepped on by others, defiling him.

But he didn't want Chu Wanning to know that he was thinking that!

Mo Ran whimpered like a stray dog, covering his face.

Thinking of the look in Chu Wanning's eyes when he was leaving, he felt that he probably did not have long to wait until his death.

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#the husky and his white cat shizun #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #2ha #2ha translation #2ha novel #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #mo ran #chu wanning #yaoi novel

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warmau · 3 years

Text

“that’s the worst sound i have ever heard in my life.”

you stand up too fast from behind the counter and bump your head with an ouch before looking to see what sicheng is complaining about now

outside the window of the cafe, you see a group of laughing boys and the bright, loud dirt bikes they’ve started riding around town

the sound of the engines and skidding tires managing to make their way through the windows

you wipe your hand on the front of your uniform’s apron and shrug

“i think they’re kind of cool.”

sicheng swivels around on the creaky bar stool, a script open halfway through is laying beside his iced-coffee

“extreme sports is just the polite way to say hey, this shit will get you killed”

you roll your eyes and check the clock that hangs above the display of baked goods and menu - almost eight, so almost time to close

you point it out to sicheng who packs his things up, you go over to help an elderly regular clean up their table and when the customer leaves you tell sicheng he doesn’t have to wait up for you

he throws his bag over his shoulder and looks over his shoulder at the parked dirt bikes

“hey, if one of them bothers you when you’re locking up just call me.”

“im pretty sure they’re not even going to notice me.”

sicheng still frets as he slips out of the door

you hum as you fall into your end of the day routine. you’ve been working here part-time through university, but with summer coming around, you’ve come on full-time

it’s a lot of work for one person, but the boss trusts you like their own children, and you actually enjoy having the quiet responsibility of locking up

you sweep the floor, put away all of the left over food and milk in the fridge, check the register and print-out the sales for the day

your last task is to close all of the blinds, the cafe always has them up in the summer, the tops open to let a slight breeze in when it coasts by

as you go through each them, you finally reach the last one that faces directly out of the front of the cafe. out onto sidewalk across.

it’s right in front of the intersection where the sidewalk turns into the boardwalk, and there’s a bike rack and some parking spots

the dirt bikes have all been left there, tires soiled with wear and sand

beside one of the bikes, a sleek red bodied one with various silver accents, stands a lone figure

in the summer heat, he’s still got leather gloves on that clutch the matching colored helmet in one hand, long jeans and lace up heavy boots

the only breathable part of his outfit is the white tank top that clings to the obviously toned lines of his upper body

a silver chain hangs around his neck, the links look so small on his overall broad figure, but they still shine against his sun kissed skin

he chews on the end of a toothpick and staring -

you step back slightly - he’s staring right at you

something in your stomach feels off, the crossing wires of concern and shock tell you to enter a state of heightened awareness

scurrying back to your work, you tell yourself you are just seeing things. you should listen to sicheng, finish quickly and hurry home.

the summer sun is quietly being pushed out by the summer moon by the time you lock the front door of the cafe and drop the keys into your bag

you turn around and whisper a small - shit! - when the figure from before is still there

he’s probably waiting for his friends, but sicheng was all wound up about them so now i am to- oh wait i think he’s coming over here!

and you’re right, the figure looks both ways before he crosses the street and jogs easily up to you

suddenly your hand itches to fish those keys out of your bag because what can a guy (a very handsome guy, up close) on a dirt bike have to do with you-

“hi - do you work in the cafe?”

he asks, voice deeper than you expect, his eyes are large and the color of autumn chestnuts

“um-yes?”

he sees the way your shoulders are tensed and he immediately retracts himself a step backwards

he puts his hands up, helmet still in his right, “oh right - sorry to scare you, i was just asking because ive seen you around-”

something like a flush coats under his cheeks

“wait - that sounds weird too, i just meant to say that i think you’re - that i wanted to know your name is all....”

you blink, your shoulders don’t relax completely, but you can tell there isn’t any bad intent coming from him

“well, what's your name first.”

he stands up taller and grins, white teeth almost blinding in the dusk

“wong yukhei! i came here for the summer with some of my buddies.”

he tilts his head toward the bikes and you nod, saying only your first name - sichengs cautiousness seeping into your own

yukhei repeats it, with an almost a bit of a goofyness in his smile when he does

“well - ill see you around then?”

you aren’t sure what to make of the situation, so you just shrug - “maybe?” - he seems satisified with this answer though, and crosses back to his bike

you don’t know why, but you feel embarrassed just standing there, so you shuffle your feet and start your walk home

at some point you turn to look over your shoulder, right at the corner that you have to take, but when you do - yukhei and his bike are gone

“really? see, this is why i should stay while you lock up.”

sicheng’s eyebrow twitches as you finish telling him what happened

it’s the next day, and it’s noon - right when the days get the hottest and most of the cafe’s customers are just coming in for the free air conditioning

“i don’t think he’s dangerous, i think he just wanted to say hi.”

you answer, fixing what must be the twentieth order for shaved ice-cream

the slices of strawberry fall gently onto the heap, and you place two pairs of the forks beside the dish

carrying it carefully to the pick up counter, you call out the order number and watch as a young couple - still dressed in their beach attire - comes up together, unable to break apart for even a second

you smile at them and return to sicheng, taking his empty glass and turning to fill it up with ice

“you can think he’s not dangerous, but any idiot who owns a death trap like a dirtbike-”

“sicheng, it’s like a normal bike but with an engine. it’s like a car but without the-”

“the safety, without the safety. really - i didn’t think you’d be the type to be into bad guys like that.”

you make a pfft sound with your lips, filling the glass with water and setting it down beside him

“first off, im not into anyone - i talked to him once. and just because they like bikes, doesn’t make them bad - you’ve been reading too many of those cliché scripts.”

sicheng makes his own sound of disapproval, but takes the drink you offer and brings the straw to his lips

you get busy with other customers, at some point kun and xiaojun turn up and distract sicheng

the whole time you work, something in you keeps making you stop to look out of the window

last night, the row of bikes had been there, but now they’re gone - maybe they’re not coming into town tonight?

you reprimand yourself every time you do look, because really it is just like you said to sicheng - yukhei was just saying hi.

finally it’s time for you to close the cafe again

the only reason sicheng doesn’t stay is because kun drags him somewhere else and if there’s anyone more stubborn than sicheng, it’s the elder of the pair

you take your time - calling the boss to let him know you’re leaving

“did that group of loud boys wreck havoc again?”

“group of boys?”

“the ones on those bikes, not motorcycles the other ones-”

your hand gets a little sweaty as it holds the phone

“no, they didn’t come around today.”

“good. be safe going home.”

you think about the conversation as you subconsciously start walking after you lockup

there’s a way to get home that’s faster, and much safer, but there’s a longer way too - that has you walk most of the boardwalk

really, it’s still safe - because of summer the beach is as bright as a movie screen till midnight - but you avoid it for the crowd and the noise

your feet urge you to turn at your usual corner, but you don’t, you make way to the little stairs that lead from the sidewalk and onto the old wooden boardwalk

there are lots of people still about, packing their things up from their time at the beach or coming to stroll by the waves when the sand isn’t burning under their feet

groups of friends, smiling strangers, couples with kids or without

everyone is enjoying their summer, and you almost feel out of place because your summer is going just as you thought it would. completely uneventful. long days at the cafe, lonely nights in your room

“oh?”

you hear your name suddenly and turn your head left to see yukhei leaning against one of the benches

on the bench are what look like some of his fellow friends, some have those moto jackets you’ve only seen on tv hanging off their shoulders and others are drinking out of cups and swinging the keys to their bikes around their fingers

yukhei comes over to you and everyone in his crew throws a look over their shoulder

you blink when he stops in front of you - right, you think, he’s pretty tall

“are you getting off work?”

“yep”

“it’s really late, your boyfriend doesn’t ever walk you home?”

“boyfriend?”

you retort almost sarcastically, because where did the sudden idea that you - walking alone on a boardwalk made for summer romance - have a boyfriend

yukhei scratches the back of his neck and you notice some scrapes on his elbows

“oh there’s the guy - in the cafe with you all the time, he glares a lot - uh-”

“sicheng? oh no, he’s a friend.” you can’t help but chuckle “but you’re right he doesn’t smile often.”

yukhei seems to suddenly beam at the confirmation, which makes something inside of you feel a little warm, but awkward so you point to his injuries

“bike accident?”

he pokes at the yellowing flesh and winces, “yeah. but it happens a lot.”

“it seems like a dangerous sport, do you not mind getting hurt?”

the question is more curiosity than anything - you’re not trying to be mocking or even mean - and yukhei can tell from the way you’re still casting a concerned look at his other arm for evidence of any other “accidents”

“i mean i mind it, but i love it too much to give up”

yukhei laughs and it sounds nice, pleasant - people with good laughs tend to have good hearts

“and im not really good at anything else. like if i was to be a waiter in a cafe like you, id probably hurt myself a lot more than i do on a dirt bike”

you want to correct him, you’re technically not a waiter - but a barista - but you stop because you are slightly transfixed by the kindness that glows from him

you’ve never seen someone else radiate so......positively

suddenly one of his friends calls out his name, asks if he’s going to join them as they head back to get their bikes

yukhei looks at you before he answers - “i could walk you home, since it is late.”

“that’s ok, thank you for offering.” you push your hands behind your back a little as you tell him goodnight, before you’re a couple of steps away someone from his group shouts out

“yukhei’s not only good with dirt bikes - he’s a good kisser too-”

by the sound of it, yukhei jumps on his friend and tells him to shut up! you hear the aftermath of the scuffle, but don’t turn around as you giggle to yourself

a couple of times after that, you see yukhei simply in passing

sometimes you’re in the middle of your shift and he walks by the window with his friends, he looks up and sees you and waves - but he doesn’t come in

you wave back every time and a part of you pinches when he the door doesn’t open after

other times, you’ll see him after work - or you’ll hear his bike somewhere and he slows down to ask how work is before speeding off to catch up with friends

little bits and pieces of interactions, never anything more than that

you don’t really tell sicheng about it either, he grumbles enough about the noise they make and the other things he doesn’t like so you decide not to bother even though he’s a close friend

and the twilights of a little crush on yukhei are most definitely seeping into your brain

but everything changes when you find yourself closing the cafe after a super busy saturday, where you hadn’t been able to get everyone out until it hit past eleven.

the boss had thanked you profously and promised a good overtime check since you’d stayed so late

and you were too exhausted to be too mad about having to stay past your schedule

as you went through your routine, you nearly jumped from your skin when the door opened and you turned to explain - no really, you were closed now when you came face to face with yukhei

the side of his cheek is obviously bruised, scrapes that look like bad road rash cascade down past the angle of his jaw and onto his neck

he limps a little when he makes it across the doors threshold and you see dried blood on his knuckles

“yukhei?” you rush over and take him by forearm, making sure to hold onto the skin that isn’t covered in some kind of wound

“yukhei what are you doing here - did you fall off your bike, you have to go to a hospital now!”

not anywhere close to being a doctor, you can only prematurely tend to him with the cheap ass first aid kit from the kitchen

the entire time you keep saying that he has to go to the hospital

and yukhei mumbles that he doesn’t know where one is, his friends weren’t with him either - he got hurt alone - so he came to the only place that was close by and familiar

you look up at him - he’s sitting on the same bar stool that sicheng is usually in and you’re standing between his legs, bottle of ointment uncapped on the counter - bandages in your hand

“ok, ill take you - ill call a friend who has a car.”

“im ok.”

he lifts a hand and wraps it gently around your wrist. you can feel the wear on his skin from his leather gloves and old callouses from old injuries

he stares at you and the only light is from the kitchen, flickering on and off

“you’re not ok, you might have a more serious internal injur-”

“if i was bleeding inside, i would know.”

you frown, he says it like it has happened before - you wonder how many times has yukhei fell off his bike, or gotten hurt some other way - how many times has he done it alone

“fine, you don’t have to go now but go sometime soon. promise me.”

he looks at you, the autumn chestnut color you saw when you first met him is glazed now in a darker brown.

“ill promise you if you promise me something too.”

swallowing, you become acutely aware of how close you are - his knees are grazing either side of your thighs. your wrist is still in his lax hold.

you smell sweat, blood, and cologne on him. he smells the tiredness of your work on you.

“this isn’t a joke yukhei, i just want you to be-”

“i will go, i promise but promise me something too.”

“ok. ok fine, what? do you want free coffee or -”

“promise you’ll kiss me at least once before this summer is over.”

before you even realize it, you agree. simply because you want him so badly to go to the hospital, or at least that’s how you come to terms with it on your own.

you itch as the promise swirls around your head, even hours after you watched yukhei walk away from your front door - banged up and bruised and stilling insisting on walking you home

when you see sicheng the next day, you want to tell him about everything because your head feels like a tangled mess

but you don’t - you just pick at the strings of your apron, make drinks and heat up pastries

three days go by and yukhei doesn’t show himself anywhere. he’s not even in his group of friends who you see once again on the boardwalk one night after work

you somehow push past the nervous feeling and ask one of them where he is

“ah, his bike is all fucked up so he’s been mopping about it while it’s in the shop.”

“did he go to the hospital?”

the guy laughs, shakes his head - “knowing yukhei, probably not. but we haven’t seen him for a while either.”

you say thank you and turn to leave - you hear some kind of buzzing, some kind of mention of you and yukhei and what kind of ‘relationship’ you’re in - but you push past it

you don’t even know where he lives, let alone where he rides his bike so you can’t really go and check on him

you have to wait for him to come to you - that bothers you.

you stop and return to the group, who all simmer to silence when you come close again.

“where do you guys usually ride your bikes?”

you’ve never been this far up the beach, mostly because this part is relatively blocked off from swimming because of the high ridges of rocks and the part of the coast that disappears into the mountains

there’s a trail for hikers that leads off and into the trees, but you don’t go there - worried you’ll get lost without a map or guidance

yukhei’s friends said they mostly biked here - dirt bikes aren’t motorcycles you know that right babe?

you cross your hands over your chest - on your one free day of the week, you want to be splayed out on your floor under a fan. not looking for yukhei - someone who is practically a stranger to you

is he though? we might have talked less times than i can count on all my fingers but would i really call him a stranger?

you look around but it seems barren, almost eerily quiet and isolated

so when the loud sound of an engine roars from that opening into the mountains, you almost teeter back

with a flair of dirt and sand that flies toward you in a storm, you hear a bike rip down and into dune

the red bike strikes against the sizzling backdrop of the summer day and your eyes widen when you see it do a half-circle and come to a halt

yukhei pulls the helmet off and shakes his sweaty hair from his forehead - he looks over at you and you think you have lost the ability to speak

i know im supposed to be angry and concerned, but he looks so hot it’s almost unfair

the road rash on his cheek is healing better than expected, but his wounds are all still clear as day - scabbing as they heal

he doesn’t get off the bike - just looks at you and then beckons you over with a tilt of his head

you almost protest because you came here to be all strong willed and insist that he go see the doctor, also when did his bike get out of the shop?

but you bend to the command and make your way over

he kills the engine and stares at you - you stare back

“where have you been?”

“i went to the hospital like i promised.”

the sudden confession makes you drop your hands - “really! what did they say?”

“no internal bleeding.” he leans his body slightly over the side of his bike “told you id know if i was dying.”

“still, im happy you went. it’s better to be safe than so-”

he drops his helmet on the sand and your sentence cuts off with the sound

“so i kept my promise, do you want to keep yours now?”

don’t be silly, im not kissing you - you don’t even like me and i don’t -

all the excuses in your brain just get lost in the jumble that’s already made a home up there, so you just decide that fine. you will keep that idiotic, dumb, heat of the moment promise.

you grab yukhei by the sides of his tank top, starling him as you push yourself toward his mouth

using the leveraged grip you let your hold relax only enough so that you can dig your nails through the fabric and into the skin of his ribs

yukhei makes a growling noise into your mouth that is somehow more sweltering than the summer sun

he cranes his neck slightly so when you run your tongue across the slip of his lips he can easily grant you any of the access you require, one hand goes up to grip the back of his neck

he takes one hand from the handles of the bike and slips it to the small of your back - then up between your shoulder blades as he pushes you closer

it’s supposed to be one kiss. one little, flimsy kiss, and yet the attraction you feel between you two is so charged that you cannot stop

you only break back to see if yukhei feels the same thing, and it is written all over his face, he does

that and the way he tells you to step back as he gets off the bike, it falls to the sand and you start to ask why in the world he’s so careless with everything when he just wraps you up in his arms and starts kissing you again

“i wont be careless when it comes to you”

his mouth is magical, even more so as it drags down to your neck and the layer of sweat between your bodies is threatening to turn to fucking cement and keep you stuck in this embrace for the rest of eternity (not that either of you would mind)

but it’s so hot and you are not about to fall back on this sand - so you somehow manage to tell yukhei to meet you later tonight

“want a ride home?” he pants, but you unglue yourself from the plane of his perfect chest and shake your head, “meet me at ten.”

yukhei is there on time. he didn’t bring his bike, which is a good idea considering the noise it would make, he looks so sweet when you come downstairs and he asks if you want to go on a date

a date, like go get dinner if you haven’t had any or play boardwalk games until midnight

you say yes. just not tonight

yukhei’s look of childish confusion makes you laugh as you take his hand and lead him back inside.

sicheng might have warned you about yukhei being “bad”, the only little problem is you might have always been the “bad” one all along

with how big, strong, dirt biking yukhei looks up at you with absolute awe as you forgo chitchat over shared ice-cream and push him down onto the sheets of your bed

in the morning, you have to go to work and yukhei has to leave through the window, but you kiss him one last time and he mumbles he’ll meet you after your shift

“now i do have a boyfriend to walk me home, huh?”

you giggle and yukhei nearly trips over himself at the word

you do let yukhei take you on a date, of course you do - and it’s as soft and sweet as you expect because yukhei is the opposite of what he looks like at first glance

all the bruises, all the confidence, all the arrogant handsomeness that is ingrained in his perfect features is just a cover. he’s a big teddy bear.

refusing to let you pay, giving you his jacket, offering to come over early and help you lock up

holding your hand gently, kissing your forehead when you complain about dumb customers, the absolute sugary-sweet pillow talk that sometimes makes you feel like you’re in a hallmark movie romcom

when sicheng catches yukhei with a hand around your waist on the boardwalk - he nearly calls the police, but you explain everything - sans the more intimate details and it takes a long time for sicheng to accept it but

you are happy, god you are so happy it is pouring out of you - especially when you are with yukhei

even your boss warms up to him (only him, the rest of his buddies are basically barred from coming into the cafe)

and yukhei, when you see him with others, it’s obvious that he is an extroverted charmer - one afternoon he helps you with orders and when he returns, the receipt is covered in numbers

of course - he crumples it and tosses it into the garbage as he lets a secret hand sneak up your shirt behind the shield of the counter

and then, the summer is whisking away, and you feel the first kisses of autumn when yukhei is helping you steady yourself on the dirt bike - even though you refuse to actually ever ride it

you shiver at the breeze and yukhei feels your goosebumps under his fingertips

“hey, are you going to leave once summer is over - i know you and your friends are just staying here because it’s a great place to bike but-”

he leans down and buries his face in your hair

“why, you gonna miss me if i leave?”

you reach behind you to try and flick him, but he dodges

“i just wanted to know - if i should get ready for heartbreak or-”

“don’t ever say that, i would never hurt you.”

his tone drops and you know he’s being serious

“i love you and im not going anywhere.”

he helps you off the bike and then pulls you into his arms

“promise?”

you whisper, but yukhei hears it and you feel him nod

“promise.”

a couple of years later, you hear a loud sound from the living room and rush out to the garage

you see yukhei rubbing his head - wrench in one hand and a broken looking bike on the floor

“what happened?!”

“i didn’t put the kick stand down all the way so it toppled over”

you kneel down beside him and examine him for any wounds,

yukhei watches you and the concern that is always so bright and tender in your eyes when it comes to him

you turn his hand over to make sure, the engagement band on his finger catches the light as you do

the matching one on your hand feels cool against his skin.

“you’re so careless, seriously!”

you puff your cheeks out and chide him with all the love, he smiles back and leans in to kiss your frown

“true, but im never careless with you.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s true - ever since he first said it till now.

#ok in my defense.......i think dirt bikes are cooler than just motorcycles.#also the suits they were during xgames is so cool like imagine yukhei in one #yukhei au #lucas au #nct au #wayv au #lucas imagines #yukhei imagines #wayv #lucas #yukhei #blood/#wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #yukhei scenarios #lucas scenarios #nostolgic au

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sitp-recs · 3 years

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(Perfect artwork for Modern Love, by @cambiodipolvere)

Today is the day of one of my favorite people! And I totally resent @tackytigerfic and Starry for almost sharing the same birthday, god the STRESS 😂 Tacky is my first and closest fandom friend. We clicked together so fast and easy that sometimes it feels like I’ve known her all my life, like we’re two dog moms living in the same neighborhood who happen to read fic in their free time. Despite our conflicting time zones and crazy schedules we manage to chat every other day, tagging and sending each other all kinds of stuff, coming together to cry scream about a brilliant fic we’ve just read or shaking our heads in embarrassment at every other unnecessary bullshit post. Tacky’s bright and wise energy uplifts my spirit even on my moody days, and makes me grateful for her friendship and for this fandom life. Okay so this got long and I had to put the rest under the cut:

It’s such a lovely and precious thing, to have someone with whom you can share every single thought that crosses your mind, your scariest, most embarrassing, petty or disturbing idea, without fear of being shamed or judged by it. I trust Tacky with all my heart to hear me out, share a joke or a piece of advice, even on the (rare) occasions when we don’t get the same perspective - that doesn’t happen often when it comes to Drarry, as we are taste twins!

Tacky my darling, you’re such a good person, and such an incredible friend. Thank you for introducing me to this lovely community, for being my safe haven and your unique self, with so many qualities I admire and feel inspired by: kind, witty, earnest, wise, and so very human. I love your humour and empathy, and your chill yet no-nonsense personality; I love your talent and how articulated you are; I love your passion for Drarry, and how you let this emotion inform the way you navigate the fandom and create for it. And god, but you’ve been creating some of the most beautiful content I’ve seen in these recent years! I’m permanently in awe of your ability to write Drarry in any shape, format or length, transforming even the most ordinary moment into an extraordinary and meaningful piece of character or relationship development. You know how you mentioned yesterday that some authors change the way you feel about a ship in a deep, definitive way? Well, you are that author for me. Your works made me fall in love with M-rated contemplative romance, and also allowed me to fall in love with Harry in a way I never thought it was possible before.

Some people - myself included - got to know you through the fun and intriguing A Lick and a Promise, others through the atmospheric and sensitive Modern Love, others through your contemplative and heartbreaking short form. Each story has its merits and purpose, and all of them share a Tacky trademark: the heartkick factor! Your talent has no limits and goes across different genres and tropes, that you explore with a bold twist full of personality and heart. And even more impressive is your consistency at always raising the bar - every new fic of yours becomes an instant fave and makes me think “wow I thought Tacky couldn’t get better yet here we are”. Seeing how your writing evolves as you find your narrative voice is a beautiful and humbling experience, I feel so lucky!

I’m really grateful for being active in the fandom at this moment in time, because that allows me to read and engage with your brilliant work, and to have you as a dear friend. I can’t wait to see what comes out of your beautiful brain next. It was an impossible job choosing a single fic to rec today, so I decided to do a belated Tacky reclist! Naturally these are my personal and biased must-reads, and I urge everyone to go check these beauties right now. Feel free to include your own favorites too, and don’t forget to leave them some appreciation.

Happy happy birthday my darling Tacky! This fandom life wouldn’t be the same without you. I hope you have the amazing day you deserve!

Between the Power Lines (2020, M, 3.2k)

The road trip fic you didn’t know you needed. I got utterly immersed in the heartbreaking quietness of this, feeling like a witness to an ordinary yet poignant love story. Such tender intimacy, such character development, such lovely American aesthetics with barely any dialogue. This is, IMO, the fic that reveals Tacky’s triumph in storytelling.

Even the Night (2020, M, 3.4k)

This fic has a surreal atmosphere, those Midsummer vibes unbelievably sexy and intoxicating linked to the sensorial experience of fumbling together in the night. Masterclass in tension building, a silky and languid dream-like affair.

Aim for my Heart (2021, M, 3.4k) - Harry/Draco/Ron

One of the most sensitive and stunning portraits I’ve ever seen of a poly/triad relationship, this fic packs so much character and longing! It’s a privilege to watch Ron and Draco’s tentative dynamics through the smitten eyes of the one person that loves them like no one else: Harry.

The Long Fall (2021, M, 3.6k)

I can’t even write about this tender domesticity without getting a lump in my throat. Best opening scene I’ve read in years, and a refreshing way to approach both mpreg and parenthood, painfully honest and lovely. This became an immediate comfort read for me, and it’s probably one of the fics I revisit the most.

Mortal Frame (2021, M, 6.6k)

This thrilling, fast-paced spy story left me breathless since the first paragraph, gods what an immersive ride! I’m so here for Drarry on the run, sharp and urgent with danger but mellowed by the silent trust and tender intimacy only Tacky can master. Major bonus points for the brilliant take on the Horcrux hunt plot line!

Last Offices (2020, M, 6.7k)

Oh, this fic 💔 I tend to avoid MCD but there’s something so deeply fascinating about body washing rituals that I caught myself mesmerized by this. I just couldn’t put it down, so emotionally compromised I felt. There’s a sort of strange comfort in the heartbreak of doing one last act of service out of devotion to someone. This fic inspired so many difficult but lovely feelings in me, and one of them was hope. Only Tacky could possibly achieve that!

Our Little Life (2020, M, 7.2k)

Inventive and singular, this story hit me straight on the solar plexus and left me speechless as I saw the (clever, magical and bittersweet) plot unravel. Such a fabulous take on alternate universes and all the angst potential behind it. Come and bask in the yearning melancholia of a short yet intricate and perfectly executed plot.

And One to Play (2019, E, 21k)

What a fun and delightful fic, I can’t have enough of pining Harry losing all sense of propriety when faced with a hot, competent and pragmatic Draco. This has fab dynamics, unhinged protectiveness, even more unhinged attraction between two idiots who can’t keep their hands off each other. A must-read for any Auror partners fan!

A Lick and a Promise (2019, E, 55k)

Hot, BAMF Professors carefully balancing a fuck buddies situation while solving a Hogwarts mystery, do we need anything else? I certainly do not. This fic is so fun and intriguing and immersive, with amazing supportive cast and a delicious get together feat secret shagging and oblivious pining. Love it!

Modern Love (2020, E, 61k)

My favorite read of 2020, this fic is a love letter to Drarry and will always hold a piece of my soul. Sensitive, wistful, tenderly aching and so very romantic, this is a Muggle Draco triumph with a superb Harry, exquisite slow burn and a side of suds comfort. I promise it will be impossible to listen to Bowie again without thinking of this love story.

Bonus: five stunning drabbles!

Something in the Way (2021, T, 119 words)

“Up,” he said, and Draco, sick with love, raised his arms above his head and allowed Potter to slide the jumper on him, big hands stroking it flat over Draco’s stomach until they both shivered.

Stir-Up Sunday (2020, M, 300 words)

“I want you always,” he said, tugging again on the fine curling length of it. “Is it okay to say that?”

Whalebone Arch (2021, M, 722 words)

“Are you still not talking to me?” Draco steered Harry towards the crisps. “Do I have to suck you off in the loo to cheer you up?”

Semiplume (2021, T, 923 words)

“Did you know,” Harry murmured, and he put his arms around Draco, fearless. “I’d be your mate. If you needed a mate, I mean.”

Relic Radiation (2021, M, 927 words)

“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.

#drarry fic rec #Drarry reclist #happy birthday Tacky!#fave

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snelbz · 3 years

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I'll Be Seeing You {6}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @tacmc.

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 1696

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta had no idea what had happened.

She was shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of the night nurses, quickly hurrying her out of the tent she shared with a few other nurses in hushed tones. She pulled her robe around her tighter, the nightgown she wore was perfectly fine with the warm fire crackling in the hearth, but in the crisp autumn air, it left her shivering.

As did the reason she’d been awakened in the middle of the night. One of her patients she’d been solely residing over had taken an unexpected turn at some point in the evening. Infection. Fever.

She felt shaky and hollow as she pushed through the tent flaps. She knew it made her a horrible person, but she couldn’t help but pray it was anyone except—

There were two nurses hovering beside Cassian’s cot and she thought she was going to be physically sick.

“What’s happened?” Nesta asked as she approached. It had been meant to have been firm, direct, but it came out shaky.

“He was sleeping peacefully, but then he started to stir and groan,” Claire explained. “When I came over he was drenched in sweat. I checked the gunshot wounds on his back and the burns. There were no bandages. I’m not sure how he had gotten them off—.”

A ringing in Nesta’s ears drowned out the rest of Claire’s words, but it didn’t matter what the nurse said, Nesta knew the cause of Cassian’s downfall.

It had been her.

She had been cleaning his wounds when the soldier had been rushed in earlier that morning, had left Cassian to help. When the soldier had died, Madja had ordered Nesta to go clean up and she had left the tent…

It had all happened so fast.

She had lost a life, and it distracted her from her thoughts, her further duties.

She had never gone back to finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

And, of course, Cassian had said nothing.

“I didn’t know what to—.”

Nesta cut Claire off, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts. She knew she was to blame, but wouldn’t alert Claire to that knowledge. “He needs a dose of penicillin, maybe two, depending on how far the infection has spread.”

Claire nodded, the other two nurses having moved on to check on other patients, most of whom slept peacefully. When she kept standing there, nodding, Nesta snapped, “Now, please.”

She blinked and was off, hurrying to the medical cabinet in the center of the tent.

Leaning down over his bed, Nesta placed a hand on either side of his face. “Cassian?”

His skin was hot, clammy and he was covered in sweat. She swore quietly. He felt like he’d been lying in front of a furnace for a few hours.

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t rise to consciousness.

Claire returned, a syringe in one hand and a glass bottle in the other. Nesta took it, surprised by how steady her hands were. She felt as if they should be as shaky as her breathing had become, but she quickly and efficiently administered the dose, holding a small piece of gauze over his arm where she’d stuck him.

“Should I… Would you like to go back to bed?” Claire asked. “I can watch him while I make my rounds.”

Nesta shook her head as she sat down in the chair next to the cot. “No, I— I need to stay with him.”

Claire hesitated, but nodded and excused herself.

Nesta would wait with him, would keep him company, because it was all her fault.

She told herself that was the only reason, but as she reached up to brush his damp hair back, she knew she was only fooling herself.

But fool herself, she would.

This was war. He was a soldier. Aside from being completely inappropriate, considering she was his nurse, one should never get involved with a soldier.

It often only led to heartbreak.

His face was flushed, even though his lips were bloodless, and he looked so…frail. Even when he’d first been brought in, bloody and burned, he hadn’t looked so helpless. Nesta couldn’t look away from him.

She knew no one else was around, knew the other nurses may have been nosy and curious, but they would give Nesta this privacy. And because of that she reached out and took his hand, gently holding it in hers.

Was it really just earlier in the day that he’d held her hand after coming to check on her after that poor soldier had passed? The thought, that he considered her feelings more important than his own healing, had her fingers tightening around his.

I could see myself loving a woman like you.

She tried not to think about the thrill his words sent through her, then or now. It was highly inappropriate, especially considering they barely knew each other. But there was just…something about him. She reached out with her free hand and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Still clammy. Still burning up.

Again, his eyelids shifted, but they didn’t open. The penicillin would keep him down for a while.

She wouldn’t be sleeping, though. Not any time soon.

With a defeated sigh, Nesta took the book off of the small table by Cassian’s cot. He had read a little more that afternoon, it had seemed. He was nearing chapter six, and Nesta couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the coming chapters.

Especially in regards to his beloved Daisy.

She opened to the page he was on and took out the leather strap that marked it. It was old and worn, and she found herself wondering how long he’d had it, how long it had held his hair back. She wondered how long he’d had long hair. She assumed always. It was hard to imagine him with short hair.

It just wouldn’t look right.

He stirred on the cot before her, and Nesta’s eyes jerked up to him, but he still didn’t wake. She watched him for another moment, making sure he was sleeping peacefully, then looked back down at the scrap of leather in her hand.

It occurred to her how little she knew about him then. She knew about his mother and lack of a father, but he’d mentioned brothers. Were they blood or was it more in a camaraderie sort of way? And who were they? Did he love them the way she loved her own sisters?

Perhaps she had been selfish thus far, in asking so little about him. Usually the man never shut up, was always making sarcastic remarks with his raunchy humor, and now as he lay unconscious, she wanted him to speak.

She wanted to ask him questions.

He mentioned Velaris, but Nesta had only been there once as a child and didn’t remember much from it. She wanted to ask him about it, ask him what it was like growing up in the famous City of Starlight.

She wanted to ask about those brothers of his, if he had any other siblings, and how his mother, who had never married, survived it, living in the world that they did.

She wanted to ask if he’d ever had any pets, what his favorite subject was in school, if he’d ever broken a bone or climbed a tree for fun or been in an airplane.

She wanted to know where this scrap of leather came from that she had been fiddling in between her fingers for far too long.

Eventually, she rested her head against her own arm, still holding onto his fingers in one hand and clutching that strap of leather in the other. It didn’t take long before she was asleep herself.

A few hours later, a firm hand on her shoulder had her jolting awake. She sat up quickly, finding Madja standing behind her.

Standing, she cleared her throat, releasing Cassian’s hand, still holding onto that piece of leather. “Madja, I—.”

A gentle smile was on the old healer's face. “You should get changed, Nesta.”

Glancing down at her open robe and nightgown, Nesta blushed and nodded, before replacing the strap of leather in the book she’d leant to him.

The sun was up, but the chill in the air told her it hadn’t been for long. She hurried across the camp to the tent she shared with a few other nurses. Quickly changing, she tied a fresh apron around her waist and was surprised to find Madja standing outside the tent as she emerged, still braiding her hair back.

“Walk with me,” she said, and took off, not waiting to see if she followed.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel like she was a child about to be scolded.

“There is no rule stating you can’t have feelings for your patient, Nesta,” she said, glancing over at her.

Nesta blinked, not expecting her to be so blunt. She immediately went on the defensive. “I don’t have—.”

Madja gave her a look that told her the woman knew she was full of shit. She went on. “This isn’t a formal job. There is no rule book saying you can’t fraternize with others. He’s very handsome, and it’s clear he’s taken quite a shine to you. But remember where we are, what we’re doing. Why we’re here.”

Nesta nodded, hesitantly.

She knew.

The soldiers came in, they healed, and they left, went back to war.

And that’s exactly what Cassian would do, Nesta was fully aware of that fact. There was no romance, there was no happily ever after, not when it came to war.

“I just want you to be careful,” Madja continued, her voice gentle. “I have seen young women, time and time again, fall for men who did not come home. It is okay to feel for another, my dear, but you must remember the risks.”

The risks. It was a long list.

“I was not planning on anything happening between myself and the Major,” Nesta said, at last.

Madja’s smile was soft. “That’s always when it happens, Nesta. When no plans are made.”

#snacmc ibsy #i’ll be seeing you #snacmc collab #nessian ibsy #nessian #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #1940s au

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latenightdecaf · 3 years

Text

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him—even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts roommate au #yoongi fics #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #roommate!yoongi #producer!yoongi #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #exboyfriend!joon

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haechanokeh · 3 years

Text

I'm Right For You [pt.2 ]

[teaser/ prologue] [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ]

(you can play Die For You by The Weeknd while reading this 😌)

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning (chapter): handjob, public, fingering,

warning: corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, anal sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, psychology, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark

I think I'm right for you, babe. You know what I'm thinking, see it in your eyes. You hate that you want me, hate it when you cry. It ain't workin' 'cause you're perfect and I know that you're worth it I can't walk away. (Die for you by The Weeknd)

class ended and you're packing your things, and so your seatmate for today- mark.

"mark, do you want to eat with us?" your other classmates always invite mark.

"sure, wait. Do you want to eat with-"

you carry your bag and immediately left the room. he's the last person you want to be with, after what happened yesterday. mark confessed that he likes you and now you just can't talk to him.

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you're in the library trying to be "productive" and pretending to be "studious". you tied your hair, hyping yourself that you will study but 3 minutes after opening your thick pharmacology book, you took a nap.

mark entered the almost empty library. there's a lot of vacant tables and chairs but he's looking for the best spot, until he saw your sleeping face... from a far. mark has a keen eyes, especially when it comes to you. he walked towards your place and carefully sat beside you cautious in his movements to prevent waking you up. he put his bag on the vacant seat beside him and turned his head on you. you're squished side of your face against the table made him smile. lying at his classmates is worth it.

unaware of your surrounding, you didn't know mark was now sitting beside you. he saw your book was opened in diuretics chapter so he opened his own book at the same page as yours. he started writing notes, for you.

mark likes you but he's having a hard time to get close to you. not sure but he thinks that you're avoiding him, you immediately dismisses his presence when he's approaching you. you weren't rude when you do that though, you just speak very shortly with him. mark doesn't have a concrete reason why he likes you, but everytime he looks at your serine personally and your innocent face t brings him calmness. sometimes he just catching himself staring at you during class.

after he wrote the key points, he transferred all the sticky notes on the pad. he clicked the pen and look at you.

"you're still sleeping, wow." he whispered but with amusement. you're sleeping for 2 hours already. his eyes landed on your slightly parted plump lips.

dirty thoughts running in his head. he imagined your lips wrapped around his dick. yeah, the mark everyone look up to thinks like this towards you. he's not like this to anyone except you, he was also shock to on the effects you give him. mark was afraid you became an obsession, well too late for that.

he removed your specs, folded it and put it on the top of the table. he just watches you sleep, not caring whether other find it creepy.

suddenly your phone alarmed, you woke up immediately and to your panic you can't find your phone which was actually just infront of you, so mark was the one who off your alarm. you turn your head to look at him.

"thank you." you gave him an awkward smile. you look around and you saw from afar the librarian was glaring at you. you gave her an apologetic face and she returned to her seat.

he extended his arms and his thumb touched the side of your lips down to your chin. you felt a burning sensation from his thumb.

"welcome." he gave you his signature warm friendly smile.

you look down because you felt uncomfortable once again. your eyes caught a wet pool on the book, later you realize that mark wiped your drool. heat of embarrassment took over your face.

"let's eat?" he asked, lowering his face and moving it close to you. he wanted you to see his face, which you did. you're heart beating so fucking fast.

"i have to study." you said as an alibi.

"really?" he was unconvinced and playfully gave you a doubt look.

study my ass! I JUST WOKE UP!

"tomorrow is the case study, aren't we supposed to study together?" he sat up straight.

"we already did yes-" suddenly, his confession popped out from your head. "yesterday." you whispered, a ball of saliva almost stuck on your throat.

"really? i really don’t recall anything though.” he pretend to be naive. your eyes widen.

“you can’t remember anything? that’s impossible, you even confess to me... i mean...” shame crossed in you. please, swallow me my dear land. "mark, please let me study. i'm not like you."

he chuckled. "okay, but use my notes. here." he pushed towards you the notes he did while you were sleeping. your eyes gleamed like a sun.

"really?" you said excitedly.

"shhh!" you heard the librarian, you covered your mouth.

"really?" you asked again as confirmation. he giggled and nodded his head.

he admiringly stared at you goshing over his notes, he felt a weird sensation in his heart. mark was smiling like an idiot, this was his first time to see you smiling or happy when he’s around.

"thank you mark for saving me." you definitely forget the awkwardness between you. you looked at him sending him gratitude look.

without any words, you excitedly study his note. you're so oblivious that you didn't notice mark placed his hand on your thigh. horniness strike him.

your concentration broke when he squeezed your thigh. you turned your head to face him, there was uneasiness in your stomach when you face him again. the other mark that melt your knees.

he moved his face closer and whispered in your ears.

"y/n, i had a hard time sleeping last night. you know why?"

"why?" voice shaking and hands are sweaty while you're holding his notes.

"you never left my head, you kept on bothering me. i fantasize you last night, crying and begging to suck my dick with your small mouth and juicy lips." he huskily said and gripped your thigh tighter.

you squeezed your thighs together as you felt ache on your pussy. your breathing became ragged, chest rose heavily. you stare in those dark-lustful pair of eyes.

"i was horny last night, like what i'm feeling right now." his eyes glued in your lips.

he reached for your right hand and guided it to his hard cock. you gasped, and in surprise you take away your hand from his hardness but mark caught you and put it back.

"can you feel how hard i am right now? do you know how painful is it for me?" he grunted low. his lips touches your every time he speaks. "i need your help, y/n please." there was urgency in his voice.

"h-ow?" stuttering because of nervousness but with hidden excitement.

you heard a zipped sound. you look down and his hard flesh peeking through his boxers. he pulled it down revealing his standing cock. you almost drool, it's thick, veiny, and long. he planted a small kiss on your ears and folded your hands wrapping it around his dick. your lips parted letting out a breath.

his dick was hot, hard, and has a lot of texture- you can feel his vein. you don't believe that when a guy's hands are veiny, and so their cock... but mark is the living statement.

"move." he commanded. you pushed down your palm around his cock, and start pumping it slowly.

"like this?" you asked innocently.

mark saw your submissive look again, doll-like eyes shinning with innocence but full of lust.

"yes, baby. fuck faster, you're doing great." he complimented you, teeth gritting. he put his left arm across your shoulder and his other arm resting on the table.

both of you didn't care whether you're about to get caught or not. you enjoy the playful desires you share with each other. he smashed his lips to your soft lips. tongue caressing each other but careful not to produce noises. you're pumping him hard and fast, you felt cramp in your wrist but didn't stop. his hands formed into fist, knuckled getting white.

he moaned inside your mouth when he reach his climax. you felt the hot sticky liquid on your hands. you broke the kiss and look down to see what does it look like to have his cum on your hand. your eyes looked up and gaze into his eyes, he saw guilt, regret, and shame.

“what am i doing mark?” you bit your lower lip and your eyes watering. you know this is wrong, but when you’re with him all the rationality in you just evaporates. you became terrified of what you became and what you will have become. “what are you turning me into?”

mark was satisfied when he heard that coming out from your mouth, that means he has effect to you. he knew, because he felt the same from you.

“same goes to me, y/n. don’t you get it there’s something bet-” he was cut off when there were tiny voices. both of you turned your head towards the library entrance and there were bunch of seniors coming in. mark quickly zipped his pants and you wipe his cum on his black sweatshirt. you both looked at each other, you just realize what you did.

“i’m sorry.” you whispered and shoved your head against the book. he snickered on your cuteness and clumsiness.

“hey mark.” you froze when the girl seniors approached mark. you stay still, face against the book.

“oh, hi.” he greeted back, giving them a forced smile.

“i saw them on the pizza house, i thought you’re there? i was about to go. good thing you’re here.” she said and you heard some chairs being pulled out.

I need to go fudge, this is probably why i don’t like mark, he’s surrounded by people. knowing you, you’re allergic to people.

you stood up and gather your things.

“where are you going?” mark asked in curiosity and confusion while watching you.

“hmm?” you look at him and carried your back and book. the seniors were staring at you too. “oh, my mom said i have to go for groceries, heheeh empty fridge.” you LIED again. his brow rose.

he was looking at you but not in your face though and you have no time to pay attention to that.

“again? yesterday you went-” you did not let him finish.

“i have to go bye!”

“SHHH!”

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you couldn't ignore your wetness beneath you. you were having a hard time walking because of the weird feeling and you felt discomfort on your abdomen part. obviously, you're horny and you knew that. you quickly turned to the right corner to use the girl's comfort room. you masturbate especially everytime you watch porn, and you badly need to masturbate right now without watching porn. you entered one of the cubicle and when you were about to close it, a hand appeared stopping the door.

mark?

he stepped inside the cubicle which made you step back , the behind of your knees touched the toilet seat. you heard and clicked sound, he closed the door.

“wait, weren’t you...” you were speechless as you point your finger outside but you were actually pertaining to the library.

why the hell is he everywhere? does he have roller blades on his feet?

"i can smell you." he said looking down, you were curious of what he was looking at but you were offended from his statement.

"excuse me?" you scoffed.

"you were standing infront of me before you leave me, too close and i'm not sure if that's the smell because it was my first time but..." he gaze straight into your eyes. he palmed your pussy which made you yelp. "it was sweet and erotic, are you horny right now?"

you gulped in embarrassment, you want to be swallowed whole by the soil. you were that wet from giving him a handjob!

"were you planning to masturbate?" his eyes switched into dark and dominating. you wonder, how can he guess everything right?

his palmed between your legs made it hard for you to control your desire. you grabbed his wrist.

"i need to cum." you gave him your pleading eyes.

your pleading sweet voice and eyes, and the way you say the word cum went straight into his dick. he never expected that word to come out from your mouth. when it did, he want to grant you.

"you're so special." he whispered. he unzipped your jeans and pulled it down above your knees which slightly made him annoyed because it was hard to pull it down. he gave your dump panty and glance because he can smell it, it wasn't a bad smell it was the opposite. it was sweet, very aromatic.

you just watch him while holding on his shoulder for balance. he stood up straight. you where biting your lips while staring at his handsome face through your lashes.

"mark..." you murmur as you were growing impatient. mark chuckled.

"okay, baby." he called you baby, and your heart lifted... and so as your right leg using his left arm. he hang your leg on his arm.

"what are you doing?" he didn't answer you.

he palmed your already sticky and wet pussy which made you bite your lower lip. he rubbed it in circular motion, you suppressed your moan because goodness it feels so good but you're afraid someone will hear you. he pulled your panty aside and rubbed your slit and clit, hard but slowly. your eyes were squeezing shut and enjoy the feeling. his lips pay attention on your jaw.

"mark, i want to cu- go. please." you whimpered.

he inserted his two finger and started to thrust it inside you while his thumb were flatly rubbing your clit.

"ah... hmmm" you couldn't suppress your moan anymore. "it feels so good." you cried and throw your head back gripping mark shoulder.

mark switched his attention from your jaw to your neck, licking and kissing it. he started to fasten the pace. your were producing a squelching sound.

"please, please, please i need to cum... oh f- yes yes." your eyes rolled back, you almost saw your brains. your legs felt tension causing your leg being lifted to flex straight, toes folded.

"are you cumming now, y/n? hmm?" he said against your neck. you nodded aggressively.

"i'm so close, so close" you were mewling. "ahh!" you clenched mark's fingers and produced a long cry when you finally reached your climax.

you became weak, your limbs became jelly. you were about to fall, good thing mark catched you before that happened. your arms have no energy to hold onto mark.

"are you okay?" mark genuinely asked. "did i overdo it?" growing concern feed him.

you shook your head, head empty, and catching your breath. you have low stamina, this already made you almost pass out? what more if he fuck you?

you shook your heard want to remove those perverted thoughts, and why the hell you thought of mark?

"seat down y/n." he made you seat on the toilet. suddenly, your phone rang. mark, without hesitation looked for your phone inside your bag. he looked at the name. "your mom." he cleared his throught and was about to answer but you quickly snatched it.

there's no way you want your mom to hear a male voice.

"mom?" you answered through your heavy breathing.

"y/n? why are you panting? are you okay?"

"ah, y-yes. i just ran from ahm nevermind i just ran that's it. why are you calling me?" mark intently watching you.

"oh, i forgot a file in our house, it's on top of my table, bring it here, okay?" she asked for your favor.

"yes." you sighed. your mom always forget something.

"okay, love you!" and she hang up.

you stood up. you look down as you felt your stickiness between your legs. you just pulled up your underware and pants.

"i need to go home, i'll go out first and make sure the coat is clear then you'll go out. okay?" you were still panting, catching your breath.

"i can drive you home." he said. there goes again, the warmth in his eyes. you were staring each other, mark looked so determined.

"promise me you will not do anything. i have no energy, mark." you sighed in defeat.

he laughed and pinched your cheek.

"sure." he said, smiling but deep inside he was disappointed. might not be visible because his sweatshirt was covering it, but he is painfully hard right now.

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maddieinwonder · 3 years

Text

A Lesson In Romance #7: False Start

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Just a lot of awkward vibes hahaha

Word Count: 1.7k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they try to confess their feelings.

A/N: I didn’t actually manage to include the definition of a False Start in the chapter itself, so I’ll add it at the end. No spoilers for now!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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It took you 24 hours to decide that you were going to do something about your feelings for the good doctor. Pretty quick, considering you were a living, breathing rom-com cynic. But as ancient Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, once said: "The only constant in life is change".

Specifically, change happened after you woke up in your cute co-worker and dear friend's arms and you wanted nothing more than to get back into them as fast as possible.

But by the universal laws of working in the BAU, catching a break seemed to be the hardest when you actually wanted one.

Firstly, it was like every serial killer in the country decided to cancel their vacations simultaneously, swamping the team with urgent case after case. At this point, you were more familiar with the couch on the jet than your bed at home, and everyone was feeling the strain.

Secondly, if you weren't sleeping, you were usually out in the field chasing unsubs with Derek or Rossi. You had stopped holding out hope for being paired with Spencer — on account of your areas of specialty overlapping too much, and Hotch not being the type of leader to waste his resources — and as a result:

Thirdly, getting even ten minutes alone with the genius became an impossible task, and not for lack of trying either. At the start of the month, the two of you had tried to adapt your breakfast ritual to the road, but it always got interrupted mid-coffee order or even at the ding of the lift. Not that you and Spencer stopped trying, no, but your patience was wearing thin.

So you did something you hadn't done since you submitted your application to join the BAU — you prayed for a chance.

Because every day that you didn't admit your feelings to the doctor was another day fighting the compulsion to tell somebody else about them, and god only knows what a room full of profilers (and one nosy tech analyst) would do with that kind of information.

Then, out of the blue, the door of opportunity opened.

After two weeks of straight travel, the team had earned a well-deserved one night’s rest in your own beds before dealing with a local case, bright and early tomorrow morning. And since your flight landed at 2am and all the trains had stopped by then, this gave you the perfect shot to execute your plan.

Unfortunately, you forgot to take into account the most important factor — your nerves.

It didn't help that Derek had wolf-whistled in the carpark as the two of you walked off in the same direction, nor that Spencer immediately put your favourite album into the CD player out of instinct; an overly domestic action that made your heart beat even faster.

But it was when you arrived in front of his apartment building that you felt the worst of it. As you tried to summon the right words to your lips, your heart hammered in your chest and your thoughts jumbled themselves into nonsense.

"Are you ok?" Spencer asked, snapping you out of your anxious spiral instantly. "You don't look so well."

"I-I'm fine." Your fingers twitched nervously.

"Doesn't seem like it." He looked down at your hands, and you cursed your subconscious brain for giving you away. Then, he placed a hand over yours and your heart stopped.

"You're not alright, that's for sure, but it seems like it's just sleep deprivation." He assessed, bending slightly to look at your face. "You can't drive in this state. Do you want to come in?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, ready to protest, but Spencer beat you to it. "Let’s go. You wanted to talk about something, right?" He called out, already one foot out of the car.

Before you could realise what was happening, you found yourself sitting on Spencer's couch holding a warm cup of tea.

This was the first time you were in his apartment. Yet, it was exactly what you thought it'd be like. Every wall was lined with bookshelves, filled to max capacity with books of every topic imaginable from neuroscience to philosophy. Those that didn't make it to the shelves were found in random stacks around his apartment, standing out against his forest green walls.

"Did you know that chamomile tea is a natural remedy for insomnia? In fact, it is commonly regarded as a mild tranquilizer. It's calming effects may be attributed to the antioxidant apigenin, which binds to specific receptors in your brain that initiate sleep and reduce anxiety." He explained, walking over with his own mug.

"I actually did know that." You smiled. The tea seemed to work its magic because you did feel relaxed, and you must have looked it too, because the worried frown disappeared off Spencer's face.

"Didn't know you were a tea person." You commented lightly, blowing the steam from your mug.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me." He replied mysteriously, and you raised your eyebrows.

Spencer's apartment was too quiet, no rumbling fridge or quiet radio playing in the background to make your awkward silence any less pronounced. It was then that you noticed he didn't have a TV. Somehow this fact didn't surprise you very much.

"You... you wanted to talk to me about something?" He broke the silence, looking down at the hot tea swirling in his mug.

Right. You were here to talk about your feelings. Your face flushed as you tried to summon your willpower, again.

"I wanted to tell you something—" You began shakily. "But before that, I just want to preface, we can ignore this entire thing if you don't agree. I mean, I really enjoy our friendship as it is, and I wouldn't want to do anything to affect tha—"

"Wait." Spencer interrupted urgently, before catching himself. "Sorry, um, before that, can I say something?"

"Um, ok, shoot." You replied meekly, trying to hide your relief behind a long sip of tea. There was a pause as he gathered his thoughts, and you might have been seeing things, but he looked almost... nervous?

"The day we met, I calculated the probability of meeting somebody that shared my exact coffee order and the result was almost one in a million.” He finally spoke, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “That probability decreased when I factored in working together, sharing the same interests, and... and how I enjoyed spending time with you more than with anybody else."

Spencer cleared his throat, a blush coming onto his cheeks.

"Ever since then... my life just started making sense. I know I’m a scientist, not a poet, and I could tell you all the statistics about relationships in the world, but when it comes to you...”

His cheeks were crimson now, as he ran his fingers through his hair. You had a feeling yours looked the same.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say, is that I think you're beautiful and smart, and I have no idea what you see in me, but I'd really—"

Suddenly, both your phones buzzed violently against his coffee table, jolting you out of the moment. You leaned over in a trained motion, only to see exactly what you expected:

Garcia: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

Penny: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

You let out a sigh you didn't realise you were holding, and Spencer looked over at you, doe-eyed and nervous.

“The case?" He asked quietly.

There was a silence filled with words unsaid. "We should go." He said finally. "If we leave now, we can still make it on time."

You only nodded in response, more out of duty than desire, and gulped down the rest of your tea. The thought of what he was about to say burned down your throat.

Driving away from Spencer’s apartment was torturous. The doctor hadn’t said anything to you since he entered the car, only fiddling with his bag as he looked out the window. It was too dark to read his expression, but you wondered if he could still hear the way he called you “beautiful”, or whether the moment had already dissolved into the space between you.

Luckily, you didn’t need to wait long for an answer, as Spencer tugged on your sleeve before you exited the carpark, his face scrunched in worry.

"I really didn't mean for that to be so... weird. Can we talk about this again after the case?" He asked softly, and despite every semblance of logic left in your brain, you couldn’t stop the hope from blooming in your chest and you smiled.

That was when Spencer did something completely uncharacteristic. (You didn't know this at the time, but it was something that you would tease him about for a long time after.)

In one fluid movement, the doctor pulled you into a tight hug that elicited a squeak from you, but it only took a second for the initial shock to wear off before you relaxed completely into his warm touch. He took that as a sign to continue, burying his head into your shoulder and letting out a content sigh.

Unlike waking up to your bodies intertwined, nothing about this was a mistake. Not the way his fingers stroked your back peacefully, nor the way his curly hair tickled your cheek. You felt the stress of the past two weeks melt away in his embrace, and so did any coherent thought, except one: normal friends didn't hug each other like this.

Later when the two of you finally entered the conference room, miraculously still on time, nobody commented on the smiles plastered on your faces but everybody could tell. They were profilers after all.

But for the first time in awhile, you were just too happy to care.

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Tag List:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot @queen-flower @oops-all-ajs @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @agentcarterisgay @totalmess191 @sapphic-prentiss @mellowalieneggsknight || @averyhotchner @amesandpineapples @willowrose99

Definition of a False Start here

186 notes · View notes

andypantsx3 · 4 years

Text

if i could keep cool | 4

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters

summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

There was no other word for it. Todoroki was a menace.

Though his schedule seemed to return to something approximating normal, he was still in the apartment often enough that you began to anticipate him being there. Even when he wasn’t, however, he made life difficult enough for you by leaving behind gifts, with progressively more disappointed notes if you didn’t take them. You didn’t know how it was possible to convey that flat tone in the shape of his letters, but you could practically hear it as you read them over.

Worse, he seemed to know exactly which of your weak points to exploit to get you to want the gifts--leaving you several more books, a bag of the really nice coffee beans from the coffee shop you’d told him about, and a sinfully soft scarf as the weather turned colder. When you continued to ignore the insane amount of money he seemed to think passed for a tip, fresh vegetables started cropping up on the countertops with notes that said things like I’m not going to eat these, if you don’t take them they will be wasted to guilt you into compliance.

A month into it, an entire grocery order started showing up every Thursday shift. My refrigerator is full so don’t try to stuff any of this in there, his note commanded.

He was a master of manipulation, it seemed, and to what end you didn’t know. You made mental notes to not mention any further likes during your conversations, but when he was there, Todoroki’s conversation was so easy and so natural, he continued to pull all the details out of you with ease.

So things you really, really liked kept turning up. And as you talked to him, Todoroki was turning into a thing that you really, really liked as well.

It was overwhelming.

The final straw was a Friday afternoon when you hit up the fancy coffee shop just outside campus. You walked in with the extra money you’d saved up not buying your own groceries, and the vague idea that you would get a head start on an upcoming paper. And then, the barista very obviously glanced between you and a sheet of paper taped to a corner of the register, and refused to let you pay for your order.

“Your order is free!” she chirped cheerfully.

You stared. “What?”

“It’s already taken care of!” she said, and immediately, a cloud of suspicion settled over you.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked.

She smiled. “The occasion is someone already paid for you!”

You glanced around the coffee shop, but you could find nothing but a few unfamiliar students purusing books or churning out work on their respective laptops. You turned back to her.

“And if I were to walk into this coffee shop tomorrow, would the occasion also be that someone already paid for me?”

She nodded. “Yes! All your future orders are paid for, please come as often as you like!”

You gaped at her, and she cheerfully stuffed your coffee into your hands. Then you glared down at the white paper cup accusingly, and it stared back at you, looking like one half of a certain menace’s hair color.

Oh, he was in for it.

You stalked over to a table and whipped out your cell phone, shooting off a message so fast your fingers practically burned.

todoroki what the hell

To your surprise, you received a reply almost immediately.

It’s Shouto.

Like hell it was.

first names are for friends, not psychopaths. did you really pay for all of my future orders at the coffee shop?

Is this your first time there this month? he answered. Where do you usually go?

You stared at your phone. He’d done this a month ago? Also, no way you were telling him your budget spot where you picked up lukewarm bean water when you couldn’t afford four dollar americanos. The last thing you needed was for him to buy them out, too.

You got to your feet, marching back over to the barista.

She smiled. “Back for something else?”

“Yeah, how do I cancel the all my orders are paid for thing?” you asked. “Can you just delete whatever info he left you and charge me from now on?”

She looked you up and down. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

She stared, then leaned in to whisper. “You do know who paid for all your orders, right? Are you actually sure you want to cancel?”

A migraine started in your temples. Had Todoroki actually come in here himself to give his information? Was he trying to get you caught up in the secret lover bullshit that was still swirling in the media?

“I’m extra sure,” you smiled, then went back to your table, satisfied.

No sooner than you had dug out your laptop, though, when your phone buzzed. You looked down at the name on the screen and paled. Todoroki was way easier to deal with via text when you couldn’t hear that low, smooth tone directly in your ear. His face and his voice were absolutely fucking mind-melting, and it would be hard to maintain your stubborn stance even in the face of just one.

Still, though, this was the last straw.

“How many times do I have to tell you that friendship is free?” you hissed quietly as you picked up.

“They told me you tried to cancel,” he said flatly, and your head whipped up to glare at the barista accusingly. She smiled.

“Todoroki--”

“Shouto,” he said.

“Fine, Shouto,” you said, “It’s been a month and maybe I let you get the wrong idea by accepting all of the vegetables and everything, but this ends here. I told you that it doesn’t cost anything to be friends with me, and you had better stop apologizing. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but--”

“Then do,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Then just appreciate it,” he answered. His voice was somehow even lower on the phone and a shiver went down your spine, despite your frustration with him. “Just accept them. Why is it so bad if a friend gives you things?”

God, he was such a rich boy, wasn’t he?

“Shouto, I do appreciate it,” you said. “But I don’t need any of that. And I know that you know this isn’t necessary--I highly doubt that you are buying Midoriya all of his weekly coffees or draping Bakugou in soft scarves. All you need to be friends with me is to just hang out, the same way you do them.”

Shouto was quiet a moment. “Hang out,” he finally said, slowly, like he was tasting the words in his mouth. Then, “Are you free right now?”

“W-what?” you managed.

“You don’t have class right now, right? Your last lecture just let out.”

You were surprised that he remembered your class schedule. Just how much had you told him?

“Uh, yeah?” you asked.

“Good, stay where you are. We’re hanging out,” he pronounced the words like they were foreign on his tongue, then hung up.

You stared down at your phone in shock. He wanted to hang out with you? Like, outside of his apartment?

There was no arguing the two of you got along relatively well, now that the threat of your crazy fandom and the weight of his mistake no longer hung over your relationship. You talked easily enough the one or two times you saw him during any given week. But so far your interactions had been somewhat limited, confined to the familiar space of his apartment and limited to the time that you had to be there. You texted a little outside of that, but you’d never just casually hung out.

Then the weight of his words really hit you. He was coming here? To the coffee shop? In full view of your entire campus? Was he insane?

You ran through a mental checklist of things in your bag that could be used to disguise him but came up short. You didn’t know exactly what he planned to look like when he put in an appearance here, but you were not interested in fanning the flames of the secret lover garbage that was still all over twitter and splashed across the glossy pages of the magazines at the grocery store.

You shot to your feet and threw your bag over your shoulder, then ran out the door, dashing for the campus shop that sat just outside the student center. You blew through the door and dove straight for the apparel section, grabbing the least heinous hat that looked like it would cover most of Shouto’s distinctive hairstyle while also drawing the least amount of attention to its wearer. You also helped yourself to a plain pair of sunglasses that would probably be kind of inappropriate in the fall weather, but would go a long way in hiding his eyes and that scar.

Why did he insist on having so many distinguishing features? Would it kill him to have dark hair and dark eyes like most of the rest of the earth’s population?

You threw the items and a wad of bills down on the register counter, then paused. A few small, slightly-wilted looking bouquets of flowers sprouted from buckets just beside the register in the colors of your university. You didn’t know what the colors or type of the flowers were supposed to mean, and they probably didn’t give off exactly the message you wanted to send, but Shouto had gotten you flowers as the first gift he’d ever given you…

You grabbed the least wilted looking bunch and threw them on top of the other items.

The cashier rang you up with all the urgency of a sloth, and you tapped your foot nervously as you waited. How was Shouto getting here? How long would it take him? Would he be at the coffee shop already?

You stuffed the flowers into your bag, then launched yourself out of the campus shop like a rocket, catching that mop of red and white hair just outside the entrance to the coffee shop. You put on a burst of speed and managed to jam the baseball cap down over his head before he pulled open the door. He turned to you in surprise.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Yes, hi, hello,” you managed while also trying to ram the sunglasses onto his face.

He let out a small huff of amusement. “What are you doing?”

“What you should have done before coming here, you absolute wackjob,” you said, finally managing to slip the shades over his high-bridged nose without poking his eyes out.

Shouto let you manhandle him to your liking, until his face and hair were mostly hidden under your university merchandise.

“Okay, you should be good now,” you said, looking him over. He still stood out, honestly, too tall and outrageously handsome, even covered up as he was. The sweater and well-fitting jeans he’d chosen would still draw anyone’s gaze straight to his trim figure, but it would have to do.

“We can’t go inside, though, you’ll look too shady with the cap and glasses,” you said. “We need to go somewhere outdoors.”

He stared down at you, one eyebrow lifted over the top of his sunglasses. “It’s fall.”

You thought for a moment.

“How do you feel about izakaya?” you asked. “There’s a street-side one not far from here that’s mostly outdoors. They’re good, and I think they’re still open.”

He nodded. “Do you go there often?”

You eyed him. “Oh no. If I tell you places I go, you apparently buy them out. The whole point of you being here is to prove that buying me things is stupid when we can just hang out.”

The corner of his mouth twitched like he was being told a joke you couldn’t hear. “Lead the way, then,” he said evenly.

You pulled him down a few blocks, expertly navigating your way through the winding city streets. You would never admit as much to him, but this place was one of your faves for good beer and cheap yakitori, and you could probably easily find your way both blindfolded and drunk. Shouto followed you easily, a tall, silent warmth at your back.

There were few people at the izakaya when you arrived, considering it was still a little early for dinner, and no one gave the two of you a second glance when you pulled back the curtains and helped yourselves to pair of stools in the corner of the stall.

“Okay, you have to get a beer and yakitori first," you said. "You can do whatever you want after, but the first round has to be that. Just trust me.”

“No vegetables?” Shouto asked.

You laughed. “I know that’s my brand. And there are good veggie side dishes. But there is nothing like fresh, warm, cheap yakitori and a really good beer, especially on a cool fall day like this. I know what I’m talking about.”

A soft smile pulled at his mouth. “So you do come here often.”

You stared up at him accusingly. “If you dare throw a single dollar at them, you’re in huge trouble. I know where you live.”

He smiled down at you. It was easier to notice how boyish his grin was when the rest of his face was hidden by his sunglasses, and heat flared in your cheeks. He was just so damn good looking.

It suddenly dawned on you how forward you’d been with him, sending him sassy texts and putting your hands all over him when you were attempting to stuff him into your university swag. Your relationship had progressed somewhat since that first book he’d bribed you with, but honestly, this was completely new ground for you.

Your face burned hotter. You’d been so, so inexcusably forward. Had you lost your mind?

Shouto seemed to be thinking about the hat as well. “So, do I look like a student at your university?”

You looked him up and down. Aside from your school’s name emblazoned across his baseball cap, he looked nothing like a student, too put together in his dark sweater and jeans that probably cost more than your monthly rent. You wondered if he’d even been within ten feet of an instant ramen cup in his entire life.

“Uh, no,” you said. “You look like someone forced you to wear a hat they panic purchased and it just so happened to be the least horrible one available.”

A smile played about his mouth again. “What were the other options?”

You grinned. “It was this one or a proud dad of a college grad cap.”

He let out a small huff of amusement. You smiled, then leaned forward as the man at the counter came over to take your order, making sure to cut Shouto off before he could attempt any rich boy tricks. You put in an order for two beers and what was probably a concerning amount of yakitori, then turned back to Shouto and almost fell off your stool when he was much closer than you’d expected.

“Do you have a teleportation quirk I don’t know about?” you asked, internally panicking at his proximity. He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of him and catch the scent of his cologne, light and fresh and disturbingly good.

He smiled that boyish smile again and your heart suddenly forgot how to do its job, freezing in your chest. “It’s cold.”

You rolled your eyes. “You have a fire quirk.”

You felt the air grow a little warmer around the two of you. “I meant for you,” he said.

You were torn between relaxing into the sudden warmth and freezing up in embarrassment. It was beginning to dawn on you just how attentive and thoughtful he always was, and you wondered vaguely if the gift giving was actually just a really extreme manifestation of that personality trait. Maybe being an awkward rich boy with a weird way of making friends was just part of the issue.

Your heartbeat suddenly kicked into overdrive. He was already so overwhelming to look at, incredibly brave, such a good listener, and way too easy to talk to. You did not need to pile on other endearing qualities to the frankly alarming number of things feeding into what was quickly becoming the fattest crush of your lifetime. Did he have to be so good all the time?

A hand suddenly reached out, pulling you closer so that you were practically fused to his left side. You stiffened, resisting the urge to curl into the warmth pouring off of him in thick waves.

Not good, this was so not good.

“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” you said, tongue thick, like you were speaking through a mouthful of applesauce. “I’m wearing the scarf you got me.”

Shouto tilted his head, and though you couldn’t see his expression behind the sunglasses, something like satisfaction curled the corner of his mouth. “Good,” he said in his deep tone, “but this will help too.”

“Really, you’re my friend not my personal space heater,” you insisted, trying to squirm away from him. “You don’t need to do this.”

He flared hotter, and a strong arm went around the back of your chair, halting your escape. “I don’t mind,” he said.

God it was like he didn’t even know what effect he had on people. People, of course, being cleaning ladies with twitters full of zoomed in pictures of his abs. It was not good for your health to be this close to him, couldn’t he just let you sit ten thousand miles away from him where both of you would be a little safer?

The izakaya owner interrupted this train of thought, pushing two beers and a plateful of yakitori between the two of you.

You instantly seized on the distraction, bringing a beer to your mouth to give you a couple moments for your brain to turn on again. It was refreshingly cold, and the flavor was nostalgic, tasting like breaks after class with friends and late nights stumbling back after several rounds of karaoke and drinking. You wondered now if, in the future, you would taste it and think back to the one time you’d hung out with Shouto Todoroki.

“It’s good,” Shouto said, looking at you over the rim of his own beer.

You smiled. “I told you.”

Then you shoved a stick of yakitori at him. “Now eat this and tell me I was right about it too.”

His fingers slid along yours as he took the stick from you, calloused and warm. “...You were right about this too,” he said after managing a bite.

You felt yourself puff up. “Of course I was.”

He smiled and helped himself to the rest. With the food and drink absorbing some of your attention, you were able to calm down somewhat, and the conversation returned to normal, you doing your best to forget about the sinfully warm arm curled around your back.

Here, too, Shouto was absurdly easy to talk to, the new venue doing nothing to dull his charm or the easy way that he pulled information out of you with a few, short, well-placed questions. Over the course of a few hours, you worked your way through a few beers and several more side dishes, the conversation never letting up. Shouto was just as intelligent and thoughtful as ever, and he made you laugh with a couple of unexpectedly short tempered comments. Even the discovery that he was not as princely as he usually seemed just fanned the flames of your crush.

It was only when the people around you began to shuffle off of their stools and pack up that you realized how late it had grown, and that you’d spent the entire evening hanging out and talking.

Shouto helped you off your stool when you stumbled a little, the number of beers you’d consumed suddenly making themselves known. “You’re more of a lightweight than I would have guessed by the conversation,” he teased.

You looked up into his face, realizing that he’d shed the sunglasses at some point during your conversation and you hadn’t noticed. Had anyone else noticed? No one had come over asking for an autograph. Maybe he was so unexpected at a place like this that the hat had been enough of a disguise.

You blinked, realized you’d been staring. “Nonsense, I’m a pro. I’ve put in many more beers at this place.”

Then your eyes narrowed at the slow movement his hand was making along the counter, what looked suspiciously like a stack of bills underneath. That little shit.

“Are you trying to distract me?” you demanded, grabbing his hand and stuffing the money back into it. “This is on me. I haven’t paid for groceries in weeks, thanks to somebody.”

Shouto smirked, looking strangely pleased with himself. His hand curled around yours, and his other came up to take your free hand. It was only when he’d transferred both of your wrists into one large palm that you realized what he was doing, plopping down a handful of bills on the counter quickly with his free hand, then pulling your backpack over your shoulder and tugging you away from the izakaya before you could make a scene. You’d been thoroughly outmaneuvered.

“I’ll take you home,” he said, steering you back out into the street. “Give me your address.”

“Shouto,” you whined, “this whole evening was supposed to be about proving you don’t need to spend money to be my friend. We were supposed to hang out.”

“We did hang out,” he pointed out, looking down at you from under the rim of that ridiculous baseball cap. “Your point was very much made.”

It was a testament to how tipsy you were, probably, that this warmed you. You forgot your annoyance with him almost immediately. “Really?”

He huffed a laugh. “Really. Now give me your address so I can take you home.”

You did and he plugged it into his phone. Then he led you along with one hand curled around yours. You spent the whole walk musing on how warm his fingers were in yours, how much larger his hands seemed than yours. Why was even his stupid hand so nice?

It was only as Shouto walked you to the door of your apartment that you remembered the last thing you’d gotten for him in the campus store. You quickly unzipped your backpack, shoving the bouquet of flowers at him.

“For you,” you said, pressing them into his chest. “You got me those flowers. These ones aren’t as nice, but I thought that you should have some too.”

He stared down at you, something strange glinting in his eyes. “You got me flowers.”

“Do you not like them?” you asked nervously. Was it weird to give a guy flowers? It was probably weird…

“I like them,” he declared, and a genuine smile flickered across his mouth. His eyes looked a little brighter, and his gaze was growing more intent by the second. “Now, you should probably get inside before I forget my manners.”

Forget his manners? You stared up at him in confusion.

He looked down at you for a long moment, and then he was suddenly very close, his face dipping down to yours.

“Get inside,” he said quietly, voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. “Please.”

You nodded, swallowing. You had just enough presence of mind to turn and unlock your door. Shouto guided you gently inside with a hand on your back, and then stepped back outside, smiling.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he said.

You waved. “See you on Tuesday.”

You watched him make his way back down the street, only closing your door when you saw him turn the corner and disappear out of sight. Then you sank down against the door frame, heart feeling like it was going to beat straight out of your chest.

Shouto was the most overwhelming man on this earth. You were in such big trouble.

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