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#following what they say. I still won’t be heard if I ‘act like an adult’ so I might as well take the path that allows me to even feel anythi
beanmaster-pika · 8 months
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justatypicalwizard · 9 months
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Wants Within | S. Shinazugawa | Chapter 20
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✦ Sanemi Shinazugawa x femReader!, college au, reader is adult
✦ Synopsis: You're a college student taking classes with a very strict lecturer- professor Shinazugawa. Because of an unfortunate event you got on his bad side so now you're trying everything to regain in his eyes. Well, you most certainely didn't expect that kind of attention.
✦ Word count: 1,1k
18+, minors do not interact
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Lately, you’ve grown closer to Zenitsu. It came out that he is not only a good listener, he also tries his best to help you and give you advice, which is truly sweet. The two of you started to talk a lot about your love lifes, given that he is the only person you can vent to. The blonde also told you about his crush on Nezuko and it is very bittersweet to see him melt over the girl, why she’s still so obvious to all of his actions. You spotted that it was kinda a rolling joke, Zenitsu and his love life, but no one really took him seriously with all that. That’s why he started to open so much to you, because you were the only person that actually listened to him rant about Nezuko. 
It was nearly the winter break. You realised that it will soon be half a year when you and Shinazugawa started to interact with each other. Time flew by quickly. Nevertheless, your day started poorly. Your hairdryer broke and you looked for your keys for so long that you got late to your first classes. Grumbling, you took a seat and started to note, not knowing what was going on. Then, just as you were about to eat breakfast someone asked you for help and it turned out that you didn’t have time to proceed with your food so you had to sit through another lecture with an empty and growling stomach. Not to say more, your day was shitty and you were grumpy. 
Luckily, your afternoon classes would be with Shianzugawa so you could at least look at him. Who knows, maybe you’ll text him later on and rant about your shitty day. Going to his classes would also mean meating with Tanjiro and his friends. This guy was able to cheer up anyone, no matter what.
Still gloomy, you found the class and just when your foot was supposed to cross the doorway, you heard something. 
‘’I really can’t stand it anymore, the way Y/N acts.’’ It was as if someone glued you to the wall. Your back stiffened, as you listened to this someone. ‘’Can’t she take a hint?’’ 
‘’I don’t know Kanao.’’ This time, you recognised the voice, it belonged to Aoi. 
What were they talking about? The way you act? Not taking a hint? You never did anything to make them angry! Why did they talk about you like that? Just a few days ago you were all sitting together. But wait… it’s not like the two of them ever talked to you. You would just always stick to the boys, mostly to Tanjiro and Zenitsu, while the girls chatted alone. Even Nezuko didn’t speak to them as much. 
‘’Hey Y/N!’’ Another familiar voice struck your ear as you turned around, spotting Tanjiro.
You were too spaced out to answer so you just nodded. The boy walked into the class and you followed him, avoiding the gaze of Aoi and Kanao. Something was really off here and you didn’t want to get involved in any drama. 
You all sat like you usually do, the only missing person being Inosuke. Tanjiro poked your side. 
‘’Are you okay?’’
‘’Yeah, just having a shitty day.’’ You answered in an emotionless voice, still processing the situation. 
The girls sat just beside Tanjiro but you didn’t even want to know if they were looking your way or listening to your conversation. Suddenly, you wanted to get out, just go home and rest, cut out from everything. It was just so unfair to get shittalked behind your back when you didn’t even have a clue what you could do wrong. 
Guess the day won’t be any better after all. 
Shinazugawa came and started to prepare everything, it was about ten minutes before the lecture. He may have glanced at you but you were blind to his eyes, staring at your desk, praying that it would all end quickly. 
Suddenly, someone hovered above you. Looking up you learnt it was Inosuke. He was staring at you in an intensive manner, dropping his worn out backpack on the floor. You didn’t really mind his actions, he was weird out of scale and normally it was funny to watch and interact with him. Today you wished he could just tone it down but on the other side, whatever, your problems and not his to mind. 
‘’Hello Inosu…’’ You tried to greet him. 
‘’Hey you, listen!’’ The black haired boy shouted, pointing his finger at your face. 
It was loud enough for the room to go silent. People started to look your way, even Shinazugawa. 
‘’Sit down Inosuke, please.’’ You really tried to be nice to him but you were just too fed up today. 
‘’Will you go out with me?!’’ The boy shouted right into your ear. 
No, no, no! Everyone heard that and was now looking your way. Tanjiro had a panicked face. You didn’t even see how Shinazugawa reacted. All that you cared about were the glances of others, burning holes in your skin. You prayed for this to be a joke. Please Inosuke, shout something stupid right now, that I stink, that I’m stupid, that it was a prank and I’m a n00b, anything!
No, he just stared at you, waiting for an answer. 
‘’Are you joking?’’ You whispered, eying him, your face cold as ice. 
‘’Nah. I just want to be quicker.’’ He shrugged, not giving a damn. ‘’I always win.’’ 
What did he even mean!
‘’Enough Inosuke.’’ This time it was Tanjiro, standing up from his seat and facing his friend. ‘’You can’t act like that.’’ 
‘’What? It was you who said…’’ The loud boy tried to say something but his mouth got shut with Tanjiro’s hand. He started to muffle something, but the other one kept him shut. 
‘’That’s enough, I’m sorry Y/N.’’ Tanjiro said as he started to squeeze past you. He whispered something into Inosuke’s ear and the latter rolled his eyes. 
Well, you had enough of this bullshit. Let’s see for how long everyone will gossip about this. 
Standing up, you started to pack your things, throwing everything into your bag. You didn’t care about the lecture, you didn’t care about them, you just wanted to get out, now! Some people glanced at you as you exited the room, giving you a shame walk. 
When you got out of the building you felt your eyes tear up and you ran to your dorm. Only when you got inside, you started to look through your phone to see if anyone posted something about this situation online. Luckily, nothing like that happened. The only thing that surprised you was a text from Sanemi. 
We can talk later if you need to.
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SERIES MASTERLIST
Taglist:
@secretxchive @vesperazhier
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The Exorcist
Kuroshit_10
Summary:
When a request from the queen demands it, the demon becomes the exorcist.
Notes:
If you didn't notice, this is based on the movie The Exorcist, which I just watched 20 minutes ago.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Work Text:
Ciel tried not to look annoyed when the mother latched onto his arm and sobbed into his shoulder. He and Sebastian exchanged glances. Meyrin and Finny, the compassionate members of the group, gently extracted the woman from Ciel’s jacket and rubbed her back.
“It’s alright,” Meyrin whispered, “we’ll take very good care of your daughter. We see this sort of thing all the time, we do.”
It wasn’t entirely the truth. Ciel had one foot in hell, and the queen was always consulting him about strange, supernatural occurrences, but he’d never dealt with potential possession before. Soulless dolls on the Campania, reapers in London, “werewolves” in Germany — these cases all served as a veil to hide ugly machinations. But what evil plan hid behind the possession of one girl? The ten-year-old daughter of a lesser-known Earl was hardly anything to fuss over, but for some reason, her case had drawn the sympathies of the queen.
“Is she upstairs?” Ciel asked once the girl’s mother — Mrs. Crawford — had calmed. It was a foolish question because the mad thumping and wailing coming from the floor above was answer enough.
“Y-yes.” Mrs. Crawford dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Would you like to see her?”
“I would.”
They clambered up the rickety stairs. Mrs. Crawford led the way, followed by Ciel and Sebastian, and then Finny, Bard, and Meyrin huddled at the rear. The three servants had insisted upon coming, intrigued at the possibility of a possessed child, but now their pallor was ghostly white. They hugged the railing like a lifeline, flinching at the flickering of candles and the muffled wails of the child.
Rain pounded against the windows. Lightning flashed, making shadows dance in the hallway.
“You’ve seen a doctor, is that right?” Ciel asked once they stood outside the locked door. He spoke loud enough to be heard over the racket inside.
Mrs. Crawford nodded, her eyes rarely meeting Ciel’s. “Several doctors. They say that there’s something wrong with her brain. Dementia praecox, they call it. But none of them are too sure.”
Ciel nodded, glancing at Sebastian. “Can you describe her ailments?”
“She doesn’t act like herself. She thrashes around the bed and wails like she is now, and she’s violent too. I had to strap her to the bed so she wouldn’t scratch me or hit me. She’s losing weight because she won’t eat… and she talks in strange voices! It’s like-“
Mrs. Crawford flinched as her daughter screamed in her bedroom.
“-It’s like she’s a different person. She sounds like an older man. I know it sounds crazy-“
“No,” Ciel said, “it doesn’t sound crazy to me. I’ve seen plenty of unusual things in my lifetime.” Despite his calm demeanor, his palms were sweating and his heart raced. If it were an adult that was ill, and not a girl, he would’ve been bored instead of terrified, but it was a child, and he had a soft spot for children. He sympathized with them. At nineteen years of age, he still remembered what it was like to be a petrified ten-year-old.
“Are you ready to go in?”
“Yes.” Gathering his wits and his briefcase, Ciel turned the doorknob.
The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight and a lone candle. Ciel and his servants shuffled into the room behind Mrs. Crawford, who was biting her nails, her eyes glued to the small figure on the bed. The girl was spread-eagle, her frail wrists tied with rope. Her eyes were open and staring. They were an unusual, luminous shade of emerald green.
“She’s possessed,” Sebastian said without preamble. “I’m sure of it.”
All eyes turned to him. The servants’ jaws dropped. Sebastian was a cold, logical man. He didn’t tolerate their foolish whims when they feared ghosts around the manor, and he certainly didn’t believe in nonsense like demonic possession.
“Is it easy to reverse?” Ciel asked. His eyes were glued to the girl’s pale face—her cracked lips and sunken cheeks. “Can you do it?”
Again, the servants could not believe their ears. Their rational and calculating master, agreeing so easily with these outlandish diagnoses? What was the world coming to?
Sebastian shrugged. “I suppose I could talk to it.”
“Talk to it?” Mrs. Crawford breathed. She looked rather like she was going to faint.
“Convince it to return to whence it came.” Sebastian said. “I can be rather persuasive.” The amused levity in his voice juxtaposed the gory scene. Ciel kicked his butler’s shin, his glare ordering Sebastian to be polite . Sebastian adjusted his features accordingly.
“Go on then,” Ciel said. “Talk to it.”
Sebastian stepped towards the bed. Every eye in the room was on his back as he bent towards the girl—creature— and stared it in the eye. In the deepest, most earth-shaking voice they’d ever heard, he said:
“LEAVE.”
The ground shook, a bolt of lightning cut the sky, and the girl’s head jerked forward. Her eyes fluttered, returning to their usual brown, and she started crying, her wails far more human and pathetic than before. Mrs. Crawford rushed to her side while Sebastian straightened himself, dusted his pants, and met the stares of his servants and master.
“What?” He asked innocently, drinking in their wide-eyed terror.
“You-“ Finny started to say, his voice quivering. “Your voice- what are-“
“I think we’re done here,” Ciel interrupted, finally regaining his wits. He adjusted his jacket, picked up his briefcase, and strode out of the room without a backward glance, his servants trailing like ducks behind him.
The carriage ride home was silent. None of the servants could take their eyes off of Sebastian, and the next day, they completed their chores with impeccable precision. Needless to say, they did not attend another exorcism.
Notes:
This is probably the laziest fanfiction I ever wrote.
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katsukikitten · 2 years
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This drabble turned lowkey fic...me reading/hearing about angel cunt from Jo once and trying to make it my whole personality now. LOL. Legit this was supposed to be a hot drabble thirst but we are 4k in and uh now its a fic. Please enjoy
Synopsis: Adult film star and wholly emotionally unavailable, Bakugou struggles to nut on set until he meets you, the pro cam girl, who might just be the girl of his dreams. 
Warnings: Slapping (cheek and puss), choking, mentions of nut and squirting dude this is strictly porn without plot so I’m not sure what you expect but its filth below, aye yo he’s 28
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Bakugou has worked in the adult film industry for years and yet he has never had a happy ending. He never nuts and not because he takes Viagra or anything but because....well actually he doesn't know why. He loves pussy, loves cock. Loves to fuck and be fucked.
But he's only ever nutted with people he was close with and oftentimes in private. With a mountainous man arching his back as an angry ash blonde tops him. Or he’s only ever cum when he was shit faced drunk. 
Regardless, oftentimes a happy ending in a Bakugou film is coconut cream mixed with spit that falls out of the woman's or man's mouth.
So today should be a typical day at the office for Bakugou. Fruitlessly chasing his high, getting so close when someone else cums but never having it for himself. He’s set to work with someone knew. You, the star of a huge pro cam girl site. Rumor had it you had been offered a lot of money for a ONE time film with Bakugou with the contractual obligation of royalties. It was going to be such a pretty penny you planned to start retiring after the film. Only having plans of a few more live streams and rounds of nudes before you were going to call it quits and work on your dream life.
Katsuki can't lie, he's a little excited and heard you were a squirter before coming on the set. He has plans to get you to see stars within the first few scenes. Especially now that he sees you standing by the couch, fully naked, trying to hide your pretty tits. He saunters over with a smirk, butt naked himself. Lube sits on a low table beside the couch out of the shot. 
“Lemme touch you?” Somehow he makes the demanding action sound like a question. You follow his eyes to the lube and swallow thickly. Bakugou wants to lube you up so that he won’t hurt you since there isn't a lot of time for foreplay with porn sometimes. Or at least not proper foreplay in Bakugou's opinion.
"Ah yea." You seem a bit sheepish around him before clearing your throat, "Yea, you can touch me."
You lie on the lounge of the couch that's on set, the bed out of frame in case the two of you need a different surface later. Bakugou thinks he likes how your body looks and how you smell, like something fruity and floral. It makes his cock jump, which isn't abnormal. His fingers tweak at your nipples, slowly run down your sides and grip at your plush thighs. He growls a bit at how soft and supple your skin feels beneath his hot palms.
"So pretty..." He says softly, before he gently opens your legs, now growling out, "Pretty little angel cunt."
You clench and he sees how wet you are, he looks over your heated body and sees your eyes darting around. He smacks your mound lightly causing all of your attention to go to him.
"Fuck ya acting like a virgin for? I know ya aint camera shy." You look around and he follows your eyes. You watch loads of people walk around the set, some grazing at the refreshment table, others checking mics and even setting out costumes for the lengthy day of shooting in case the director needs to have some “plot” as if everyone lets the pizza delivery guy shove his sausage down their throat. You swallow thickly as you watch the director in question walk around the set, their eyes looking at angles through a rectangle with their fingers. 
“Is it the people botherin ya?” Bakugou asks, he lets his thumb gently caress the bottom of your thigh as he still holds one of your legs. 
“Uh, yea I think so…” You let out a giggle and it makes his stomach twist, “I guess I’m used to people being behind the screen.” 
“Don’t worry about them.” He grabs onto your chin, forcing you to look at him, his vermillion gaze is more intense in person, “Focus on me and only me. Got it?”
“Y-yes, sama.” You squeak and he chuckles. 
“Ya trying to hit my soft spot?” He gets on his knees, putting your leg over his shoulder as his middle finger collects slick before he rubs it against your swollen clit, “So wet for me, Kitten.” 
He tests out the name in his mouth, he cannot lie he looked into you a bit, he didn’t want to look up videos or nudes, he wanted the experience to be fresh, new.  All he was looking for was your bio or about me on your cam pages just to see what you were like. He knows you’ve never had sex with a person on camera before, only toys and the like. And he knows that in your bio you stated your favorite pet names, Kitten, Princess. 
Those just happened to be his favorite names to use.
You bite back moans, pressing your hand to your mouth and he stops his actions.
“I wanna hear ya.” He growls and you let out a breathy gasp, you couldn’t believe he was really like this in person. Hell the cameras weren’t even rolling yet, not a single eye was really on the two of you while the fit man rested on his knees before you. 
Like a God coming down to see a meer mortal.
Your pussy clenches at the thought. 
“So why are you so wet for me hah?” He turns his head to nip at your inner thigh that occasionally tenses as his fingers slip into your tight heat.
“I um…” Fuck this was embarassing, “I was nervous I wouldn’t be wet enough for the shots so I…”
“Speak up, Princess. Tell me what your perverted ass did.” His voice is sinful velvet and your guts tighten, brows furrowed and voice small you answer. 
“I watched some porn in the car and ah, fingered myself a bit.” 
“Yea?” He cocks a smile, eyes holding your gaze, “Who’d you stroke this pretty pussy to?”
“You, Katsuki.” You gasp out his name and he shudders, pre leaking from the tip of his cock. His smirk widening as he lowers himself more. 
“That’s right. You must have known that only I can make you feel good, hah?” He growls, using more possessive dialogue than he needs, especially since no one is watching. 
But he can’t help himself, something about your skin, how you clench his fingers, how you breathe his name drives him mad. 
And mad he’ll be until you’re begging him to stop and his fingers are pruned with your essence. 
You moan again, bucking into his hand and just as you’re about to cum he stops. Your whine is loud, loud enough it catches the director's attention. He was used to the sounds of Bakugou warming up the actors and actresses for the long shooting that was set for the day, so used to endless moans happening on set for the first twenty minutes before filming that he often blocked out the sound. Still he looks over and he watches Bakugou lower his head and there is this gleam in the man’s eyes that has the director silently signalling the camera men to get to work. 
Glass eyes zoom in on your heated face and on Bakugou’s as he leans over you. A man starved, finally sitting at a five star restaurant for a free meal.
“Let’s see what this angel cunt tastes like and it better be natural, Princess.” He growls before running a stripe up your slit. Your cunt convulses as you watch his eyes flutter. In all of the Bakugou films you’d seen, not once did you see his eyes do that. 
“Fuck, my little kitten, you taste so fuckin’ good.” He wants more, rubbing at your clit harshly as his fingers dip inside you. Clenching at his large digits and you cannot believe how fast you’re about to cum. 
“S-sama. I’m gonna cummm…” You whine, one hand clawing at your breast while the other claws at the couch. 
“Then do it. Soak my digits with your greedy cunt.” He bites and you do. Arching your back as you cry out, panting from the intensity of it. A shine of sweat coats your skin nicely and Bakugou smirks. Leaning down with no intent of giving you a break as he slurps up the fresh juices. He groans into your slit, fingers digging into the sweet flesh of your thighs as he spreads you open for him. He isn’t conscious of the camera angles like he normally is, no right now he was only worried about what he could see. 
He pulls your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly as his fingers thrust in and out of you. Squelching and filling the air with the sound of your arousal and your moans. You fist his hair, the other hand still grabbing onto the arm of the couch for dear life. The coil in your stomach already so tight. 
Gods in all your time as a camgirl or even with any of your ex boyfriends, or girlfriends for that matter, not one could make you cum so quickly. Or eat pussy like this. You cum again gasping out as he pushes you through another and then another. Bucking into his mouth with more fever as you get addicted to his tongue. 
Gods what were you going to do when he gave you his fat, long cock?
Die, you guessed. 
“Please...please…” You beg, high after high. He comes up for air then, and fuck did he look good. Lips smeared with your cream, your slick in his stubble on his chin while his hair looked messy from your grip. Not to mention the smirk he wore, it drove you mad. Gripping his fingers with your cunt wanting it to be more.
“Please please…” He mocks with a laugh and the sound makes you light headed, “Be patient Princess. I’ll have you creaming my cock in no time.” 
He bites at your inner thigh, breaking his own rules as he leaves a dark mark in its wake. You cry out, tears catching your lashes but he can’t help himself. Can’t help but want to mark you as you had his cock drooling onto the rug beneath him, darkening it with his want. 
His need for you. 
He stands, leaning over your body, biting at your skin here and there. Sucking harshly just to lap at the fresh bruises with his tongue, he dots your breasts and gently bites your neck. He wants to leave it unmarred despite his need to make sure the world knows exactly who you belong to. 
“Ready for me, kitten?” 
“Yes…” You mewl, and so softly he breathes into your ear, that the mic in the couch barely picks up.
“Yes, what?” He twists your nipple, pulling it harshly.
“Fuck, yes sama. Please, I want it. I want your cock.” You cry out and he gives you what you’ve been begging for. Sinking into your soaking cunt with ease. Kissing your cervix as he bottoms out, groaning out a low fuck. 
He hadn’t expected this. He’s buried himself in an endless amount of pussy and yet not one took his breath away like you. You who squirms under him desperately, clawing at his back and whining from his lack of movement. 
But fuck he feels like he can’t even move. Like he’s going to bust right there. Sac tightening form the way you milk his cock and he hasn’t even given a single thrust. 
“Gonna be the death of me.” He grumbles, kissing you, letting your tongues swirl around each other and your moans. He buries his face in your throat to both nip and to hide his flush. He gives an experimental thrust, pulling out slowly and just as his tip is about to break free he can feel your cunt sucking him back in. He grabs a pillow from the couch, shoving it beneath your beautiful ass to angle your hips and all it does is drive you absolutely insane. The angle, the feel of his cock, the breath at your neck and his groans. Fuck his groans. 
You cum as he sinks into you, slowly thrusting as his angry cock head hits your g spot over and over. Crying and clawing at his back until his pubes hit your clit just right. 
“Katsuki!” You cry out, tears falling down your face as he looks at you twitching beneath him. Eyes rolling into the back of your head from his movements. He feels his cock twitch, it almost feels like he’s about to cum. He speeds up, chasing the feeling but not truly giving in as your legs shake around his waist. 
Finally he feels it again, the ache in his cock, leaning back he watches your pussy coat rings slick around him and the sight is almost too much. He pulls out, gripping at your sides and hips with a bruising nature. Panting like he’s run a marathon.He’d been sheathed in you for how long? Maybe fifteen minutes and he was already so close. 
“What can that pretty mouth do?” He growls, more aggressive than he needs to be as he pulls at your hair to get you onto your knees in front of the couch. 
The director looks closely, looking for fear or for you to give the signal to both Bakugou and the director to cut for a break. But you say nothing, do nothing, hell you don’t even look at anyone on the set.
Only up at Bakugou as you sit pretty on your knees. Opening your mouth in the most sinful way. Bakugou grabs at himself with a fever, smearing his tip up and down your exposed tongue. He watches your eyes flutter.
“Ya like that? Like the taste of you on my cock?”
“Mhmm, mostly I like how your pre tastes, Suki.” You lap at the tip, your hand wrapping around his cock. He sees your manicured nails and notices the burnt oranges and deep greens, and blacks. All the color of his signature shirts he starts scenes with before taking them off. His cock jumps again and you smile. Pumping him as you slowly take him into your mouth. The other hand is firmly planted on his thigh, scratching at his skin as you want to mark him as yours despite knowing you can’t have Bakugou ever again after this. 
You take him to the hilt and it makes you gag. Swallowing him as you try to relax your throat puts this delightful squeeze around the tip of his dick.
“Fuuuuck.” He whines, whines, and it sends a delicious jolt to your pussy as you bob your head. Slowly at first before setting a quick pace. Lapping up the feel of his veins and allowing drool and silvery pre cum to drip down your chin and onto your tits. Gagging now and again when he bucks his hips into you causing tears to clump in your lashes, gently falling down your cheeks. But you wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world. 
Bakugou’s whole face flushes, all the way to the tip of his ears as his breath turns ragged, his hand fisting your hair. He isn’t guiding you, fuck he doesn’t need to, if anything the girp in your hair is to keep himself from falling over. His knees are trying to buckle as you take him. 
The prop woman has the tube ready, prefilled with some coconut cream “cum”, waiting for the signal of the director to stop the scene just long enough that she can tape the tubing to the underside of Bakugou’s cock. An area she was more than familiar with, considering how many times she’s had to set him up to fake the money shot. 
But the director doesn’t cut and Bakugou furrows his brows. Vermillion eyes look down at you, your eyes closed until it happens in slow motion. Your long lashes flicker for a moment before you eyes open, slowly coming up to meet him. Your mouth full of his cock, your eyes bright and shiny looking up at him and only him. The suction of your mouth, the messy look of your face and breasts paired with the tear or two that slips out makes his ball tighten. 
“F-fuck.” He groans, a jolt of his hips as he bucks into you, heavy sac hitting your chin before you feel it. His cock twitches and soon the back of your throat is coated in ropes of delicious hot cum. You whimper around him, giving a suckle or two, both to overstim him but mostly you want more of him to coat your mouth. 
The set is in quiet shock as he pulls you off of him with a lew pop, fist still tangled in your hair and you do what would be the best shot in history. 
But only Bakugou can see it. 
Letting your mouth hang open, tongue fluttering as his cum drips onto your perfect breasts. Sitting on your bottom lip as you give a small pout asking the line you say at the end of every show.
“Was Kitten good?” You ask and he bites his bottom lip.
“You were very good, Princess.” His voice is dark and lustful. As he scoops you up to set you on the couch for now. 
“Break for twenty?” The director asks and Bakugou nods. Men and women on set come over with warm rags, and as they reach for you, Bakugou gives a nasty glare. Snatching the rag from their hands before he brings the warm cloth to your face.
“I didn’t pull too hard did it?” He thinks he sees a pink hue to your scalp, before his eyes roam over your chest. “Sorry about the bites.”
“I-” You look town, as you watch his hand gently clean up your chest, “I like them...Sama…”
“You don’t gotta keep callin me that.” He holds your gaze, hot palms comfortably resting on your ribs keeping you close. 
“I know...I just like it Sama…” You say softly and his cock stirs.
“Careful, Kitten. You’re skatin on thin ice.” An empty threat or maybe a full one. It hold promise he’ll fuck you into next week soon enough. He presses a water bottle into your hands before he takes one for himself. 
“Hungry?” He asks and this is a threat he will leave to grab you something.
“Only for you.” You flirt ignoring the silent growl of your stomach. Bakugou had plans to long dick you on this couch, especially now. 
“Favorite position?” He growls, he doesn’t care what you say as long as he can piston his hips inside of you.
“Hmmm, whatever feels good...” You admit, snuggling into the crook of his throat. Giving a teasing bite, before really sucking on the skin where his shoulder and throat meet. In your wake you leave a dark bruise and he smiles at you. Shoving  you into the couch harshly, shoving his fingers down your mouth as his other hand rubs against your clit. Your eyes flutter, sucking his fingers and you cum so quick. Shanking on the couch. But he keeps at it, determined to find out if that rumor of you squirting was true or not. 
Silently glass eyes are set to watch once more and well before the twenty minute break was up.  There is a hushed whisper on set, murmurs of how hot this is. Well hot to desensitised people, not to mention there really isn’t much magic going into this film, it was all the two of you. Entangled in one another in the ambient low light of the set. Most felt as if they were behind a two way mirror, watching what should be an intimate moment meant for two people. Yet over twenty people are enamoured as they watch Bakugou remove his fingers from your mouth with a lewd pop. Wrapping his large hand around your tender throat as he slides in, all without letting up the pace of his fingers. If anything he switches positions of his hand, pressing his thumb against you harshly as he tries to put pressure on your abdomen. 
“You like me fuckin into this sweet angel cunt dontchya, Kitten?” He’s breathless, fucking into you with wild abandon as he watches you cream his cock over and over. Squirming and shaking beneath him as you arch your back off the couch. He moves his hand from your throat for only a moment. Long enough to bring his board digits to your cheek, before they wrap around your throat again. You’re so high and needy it takes a moment for the sound of the smack to register in your head, fighting for your attention over the burning sensation of your cheek. 
“Answer me when I’m talkin to ya, unless you’re too stupid for my cock, haaah, slut?” He doesn’t let up the pressure on your throat as you rasp out a soft.
“Yes sama, I love it.” A gasped whimper.
“Suckin me in so fuckin nice.” His hips stutter as he tries to collect himself. He can’t cum yet, won’t cum , not until you’re soaking his pubes with your release. You feel a great pressure building in your stomach, loins soaking the fabric below as Bakuogou presses harder, ruts into you harder and becomes impossible hotter looming over you. 
“KATSUKI!” You cry, body shaking as the earth shatters beneath you. Clear liquid squirts from your sloppy heat, splashing onto Bakugou’s cock and abs while his heavy sac tightens. 
With the way you look, crying under him, voice warped from his hand constricting your airway, tits bouncing as he fucks into you, he knows he can’t hold it any longer. 
He breaks another rule of his, never do the “lover’s wrap” when he’s about to cum. He leans over, placing his hand firmly on the back of your head as he buries his face into your throat, the other arm is wrapped tightly around your back as he pulls your chest to his. Fucking into you as he grunts into your ear. Your nails scratching his back, voice breathy from exhaustion and pleasure. 
“Katuski, Katsuki.” You whine for him, “Please, please cum in me.”
Your begging sends him over the edge, he fills you to the brim with seed moaning so loudly, the sound so raw, it makes your cunt milk him dry. 
Both of you panting he collapses fully on you, strong arms still keeping you caged to him. His cock softening inside you as he hugs you tightly. 
“Fuck…” You both murmur, enjoying the smell of each other in the afterglow of a good fuck. Just as he’s about to seperate from you he hears your stomach growl, loudly at that. Embarrassed, you squeeze your eyes shut as he pulls away from you. 
He laughs, really laughs before he bites out. 
“Knew you were fucking hungry.” He places a rare kiss on your forehead before he growls, “Stay.” 
He rises, disappearing behind the set and returns with a pair of sweats and leggings, two t-shirts and his hoodie. As he walks over he snatches two rags, wiping you down gently. Sure to get everything from your pretty little pussy before he cleans himself. 
“Stand.” He barks holding your leggings open for you to step into. You do as he says and he pulls the fabric up a body so nice, so smooth Aphrodiete herself would be green with envy he then places you in your shirt and tops off your outfit with his hoodie. The dark fabric swallows you whole and envelopes you in his spicy caramel scent. You fight the urge to inhale deeply as he dresses in his grey sweats that he rolls at the waist and his tight wife beater. Neither fabric leaves anything to the imagination and you sigh deeply. He grabs onto your hand. 
“Oi, we’re done for the day yea? I know you got your fuckin shots.” He shouts to the director before he drags you from the studio, carefully guiding you across the street to one of his favorite diners. 
He’s only ever brought Kirishima here and in the middle of the night after a drunken night out on the town. 
So bringing you here felt a little personal for him. 
And here he was again, breaking yet another silent rule he’s given himself. 
He eases you into the booth before taking his own seat and before long the two of you are chowing down on “american” breakfast foods. Pancakes, belgian waffles, bacon and scrapple. 
Laughing as the two of you talk and for a moment, Bakugou doesn’t feel like he’s hanging out with a co worker he just fucked. 
In this moment, shared under the shitty lighting by the window advertising “OPEN 242/7” in chipping red paint between the sips of coffee and the laughter, he feels as if he’s sitting across from someone he’s known for a long, long time.
And he isn’t sure he’ll be able to give this feeling up.  
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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years
Text
The Bakugou Kids - Bakugou Katsuki
(Dad)Bakugou x (Mom)f!reader
Warnings: Fluff, Crack, Cursing
Summary: Bakugou and Y/N love their son with their entire beings, but sometimes, parents need a break. Especially when those parents are responsible for creating a literal demon spawn. He is kind, well behaved, and cute of course! But he does have Bakugou blood in him. With Y/N already away on a girls trip, Bakugou has to find out how he’s going to deal with his (now) many, many kids.
A/N: You passed down your duplication quirk down to Katsuo.
BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You asked your husband as you stood at the doorway. “Katsumi may be a calm baby but she’s still a baby. And Katsuo’s quirk just kicked in and it is mine. I would know how difficult it can be to manage.”
“Stop worrying, Babe. It’s just a duplication quirk. And he’s only 5, how powerful can it really be?”Katsuki said, wrapping his arms around you. “Just go on your little girl’s trip with Ponytail and Racoon Eyes. I can handle the brat.”
You looked at your husband with a raised brow and smile before rolling your eyes and giving him a kiss. “Alright then. I’ll see you in a few days!”
With that, you walked out of the house and into the cab to meet your friends at the resort. Katsuki chuckled before walking back into the house to find his son napping on the couch. His spiky, blonde locks were all messed up with bed head while his E/C eyes he inherited from you remained shut. Katsuki walked over to his newborn daughter and picked her up while he took a seat next to Katsuo’s sleeping form, rubbing at his soft hair until he woke up.
“Can’t be all that bad, right Katsumi?”
The baby girl merely cooed with sparkling ruby eyes that mimicked her father’s.
Wow. Wrong. He was so wrong! It had only been 2 days since your departure but things had already gone so wrong! When you said your quirk was difficult to manage, Katsuki thought it would be difficult for Katsuo to manage. Not him!
Katsuki should’ve known his son would’ve taken the opportunity to act out while his mother was away. He had always been your little angel while Katsuki saw him as his little gremlin. With Y/N gone, Katsuo has been pushing all kinds of limits. Limits that had Katsuki beat.
Katsuo had been fortunate enough to inherit a quirk. And not just any quirk, but your quirk. Duplication. Basically, he can create copies of himself. When you were his age, you could only create 4, max. Katsuo was different though. He had Bakugou blood flowing through him. He was advanced the second he was born. So now, Katsuki was stuck looking after Katsumi, Katsuo, and Katsuo’s 16 other copies.
“Aye! Number 15, you’re gonna break that lamp! 11 and 8! Don’t wrestle in the mud! Go take a bath! NUMBER 3 GET OFF THE KITCHEN ISLAND! KATSUMI!” The adult blond screamed, looking for his infant daughter, eventually finding her sleeping in her little rocker on the living room floor. “Oh right, you don’t talk yet.”
Katsuki sighed as he slumped down next to his daughter, and leaned his back against the couch. He looked around the room and saw the 17 Katsuo’s making a ruckus around the house. All he could do was question how the hell is 3 month old daughter could possibly sleep through all this.
Katsuki almost lost all hope for humanity until a knock was heard on his front door. Knowing exactly who was there, he quickly got up from his place on the floor and ran to the entrance. “You idiots are finally here!”
Katsuki pulled in his 3 friends, the boys of the Bakusquad, and slammed the door shut. The 3 friends all stood in shock at the sight of the house. Not that it was overly messy or anything. It’s just that there were about 16 more figures in the house that aren’t usually there.
“You gotta help me!” Katsuki said, running infront of them, shaking his best friend’s shoulders. “I love my kids! I do! I love Katsuo, I swear! BUT I DIDNT SIGN UP TO BE A FATHER OF 18 FREAKING DEVILS!”
“Okay! Okay, relax man. We’re here.” Kirishima said, patting his friend’s shoulder as he wept. “How the hell are we gonna take care of 17 little Bakugous?”
“Right? We thought 1 Kacchan was a lot. Then you brought another one into the world, who apparently brought some unannounced friends.” Kaminari joked.
“They’re demons!” Katsuki exclaimed. “This has to be some fucking Karma for the shit I did. I knew I should’ve listened to my old hag better. Now shits came back to bite me in the- HEY! PUT YOUR SISTER DOWN! SHE’S NOT A FOOTBALL!”
Katsuos number 7 and 5 placed a sleeping Katsumi back in her rocker with an annoyed pout before running off to play something else.
“Welllll, there’s nothing that 3 cool uncles can’t fix!” Sero enthusiastically said. “Hey kiddos! Who’s ready to have some fun?”
All the mini blondes stopped their movements, some freezing mid-air, and looked to the slim man. They all shouted in joy at the sight of their uncles and ran to pounce on the 3 men, including their father. From the point of view of the boys in the Bakusquad, it looked like a Bakugou stampede.
“Run, run, RUN, RUN, RUUUNN!!!!” Kaminari screamed as the boys all ran for their lives to escape the herd of Katsuos. This was going to be an interesting day.
Safe to say after the day had passed, the boys of the Bakusquad were completely exhausted. Sero had half his clothes torn, Kirishima’s hair fell from it’s great spikes and even lost some red hues, Katsuki’s eye bags had never been heavier, and Kaminari was just straight knocked the fuck out. They were all thrown across the couch as Katsumi rested in Katsuki’s arms.
“What do we do?” Kirishima exclaimed.
“I don’t know.” Katsuki said, looking at his scrambling son(s). “There’s just too many.”
“And we’ve already lost a soldier.” Sero said pointing to Kaminari’s sleeping form. Katsuki and Kirishima followed his gaze and bowed their heads in respect towards the defeated Kaminari.
“Well now what? Is Bakugou just supposed to live like this for the next 3 days?” Kirishima asked.
“Hell no. If I do, there’s not gonna be anymore Katsuki. I’ll just be some body without a soul because my damn gremlins sucked it outta’ me.” Katsuki said with his head dropped down.
“Well how do we get them to calm down?” Sero questioned.
“I don’t know. They’re all mini me’s. Nobody could get me to relax.” Katsuki said in defeat, but that’s when Kirishima had a lightbulb go off for him.
“Except for Y/N!” The red head said, popping up from his seat on the couch.
“Uh, if you haven’t noticed Shitty Hair, this all started because she’s away on her trip.” Katsuki said with sarcasm as he looked at his friend as if he was an idiot.
“I know that! But Y/N wasn’t the only one to tame you, Bakugou!” Kirishima said in excitement.
“So then who else?” Katsuki asked.
“You know,” Kirishima smirked. “Denki’s favorite person. Y/N and.........”
It took Katsuki a second before his eyes popped when he finally got it. “No!”
“Yes!” Kirishima said.
“No way! We’re not going to her!” Katsuki complained.
“Who?” Sero asked.
“Nobody!” Katsuki screamed.
“Oh it’s somebody alright! Somebody who was able to tame the beast in Bakugou the second he was born!” Kirishima said.
“Who?” Sero asked. Katsuki finally sighed before he gave in, realizing this was his only hope for sanity. He grabbed his phone and made a quick call before explaining to his dark-haired friend.
“The demon of all demons...”
The door opened to reveal a tall standing brunette and an elder feminine blonde.
“...My mother.”
The boys of the Bakusquad all sat lined up on the couch as Mitsuki stood at Katsuki’s end and smacked her son’s head.
“You idiots! Y/N leaves for 2 days and all hell breaks lose?!” Mitsuki screamed at the 3 young men.
“You old hag! Quit hitting me! Ima’ grown man for crying out loud!” Katsuki screamed as he rubbed his head. Masaru simply bounced the sleeping Katsumi in his arms as he watched the scene play out.
“Well if you’re such a grown man then why can’t you manage your own kids without your wife’s help?!” Mitsuki argued, leaving Katsuki silent as he grumbled. The eldest blonde sighed before continuing. “Alright listen, I’ll watch these little devils for the next few days until Y/N comes back. I’d love to spend some time with my grandbrats. Why don’t the 3 of you go take a break and-“
“THANKS! Let’s go losers!” Katsuki said dragging his friends to the exit. Mitsuki and Masaru only laughed at their son’s behavior as they began tending to the kids.
The boys of the Bakusquad all quickly walked out of the house and headed for their cars as they all walked together.
“So, where to?” Sero asked.
“We could go head up that new resort in Tokyo!” Kaminari suggested.
“Naahhh. That’s where Y/N’s having her girl’s trip. Wifey would kill me if she saw me there instead of at home with the kids.” Katsuki said with his hands in his pockets. Kirishima raised his brow at this.
“Oh? So then, maybe we should go back and-“
“You know, on second thought,” Katsuki said with wide eyes once Kirishima made the suggestion. He took his hands out of his pockets and placed them behind his friend’s backs to keep them moving. “Maybe she won’t kill me..if I’m lucky..and wish..upon a shooting star....a million times over. Hah.....yeah. TO THE RESORT!”
As they walked, Kaminari attempted to look at the house once more, prompting Katsuki to turn his friend’s head back around. “No, no, no, don’t look back, they can smell fear.”
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candy-ship · 3 years
Text
Your Boyfriend and romanticizing abuse
alright so, I've seen some ppl online have the take that on the outside, is completely valid!
If you go in blind playing this game, it will shock you, scare you, and make you wonder why you played. But as someone who has had a stalker, I'd like to share my take on why you CAN enjoy this dark content without it justifying abuse as romantic gesture. Because it's not.
Ever.
I was stalked, for 2 years. I won't go into detail, as it is traumatic, and makes me paranoid. But to make a long story short, it was scary. I was paranoid, and scared all the time. I didn't wanna leave my house, didn't wanna drive, all because he would follow me, Leave me notes on my front door, make fake accounts, ect.
And I never knew when it would stop. I still don't know if I'll see him again, but I've not heard anything about him for about a year now so I'm very pleased. At no point during his actions did I find any of it romantic, or endearing.
Now. Let me preface that this game is for adults. Not kids, not teens, not young folks who "have seen worse". It's for adults over 18. Why is that?
Consent.
When I wanna play something, I obviously consent to playing it. I never consented to my stalkers actions.
When/if it makes me uncomfortable, I can close it. MY choices decide what happens, and as an adult, it IS your job to monitor your intake of dark media, such as the Your Boyfriend game. Because that's all it is. My final point.
It's a game.
If it were real? Peter would be a terrible person lol. But he's not, and that means we are the only person who makes choices regarding their intake of this type of stuff.
You MUST seperate fiction from reality here, and seeing people online say you can't enjoy dark media simply because it displays dark media is.... Kiiiind of missing the point.
It's okay to like fucked up shit. It's alright to enjoy it!! That's why people make/consume horror movies. This is a horror/romance game. If you buy a cat and expect it to act like a dog, you're going to be disappointed.
Pleeeeeease please pLEASE just monitor yourself and your experience on the internet instead of ripping into anything that you don't personally like. And if it doesn't hurt you, let others have fun :)
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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years
Text
Vicious
Part II
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Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.
Words: 1891.
Part I
Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.
P.S. To avoid any confusion, I changed the name Savages -> Vicious.
________________________
The next day you spent doubting your own decisions. Was it really wise to leave everything to Steve? How could he find those students all by himself and deal with your problem? Could he really stop them from acting like that? You thought once again it would be so much easier to ask for a transfer, but you had already given him your word to meet him today at 5. It would be very inappropriate not to come when he was trying to help you.
When the time came, you were sneaking in the student council room as if you were some petty thief. You were afraid people would start talking: if everybody knew who stole your things, they would understand you came to Steve for help like a little girl. It was embarrassing - even in a situation like this. Besides, somebody could be following you since at 5 pm the academy was almost empty.
By the time you reached the right door, you heart was beating as if you had just run a marathon. You really, really hoped Steve found some solution, and you wouldn’t have to be humiliated by the student advisor for wanting to leave the school.
Opening the door, you saw a couple of students on the sofa and quickly stepped away, afraid the student council was still having a meeting, “Ugh, sorry!”
“Come in, please,” Steve said calmly behind the door, and you shyly got in again, watching four other guys staring at you with interest. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“What, they too?” You were so perplexed by his words you forgot your manners, speaking of others as if they weren’t in the same room. “I’m sorry, I mean, I didn’t know you were involved.”
Wait, were they the ones who stole your things? Did Steve bring them here for you?
“No need to be so nervous.” One of them, a guy with long, jet black hair forming waves around his shoulders told you, motioning you to come closer and sit in one of the chairs opposing the sofa where he sat. “We’re here to help you.”
You remembered his name was Loki. A mathematic genius, he was considered one of the top students of the academy.
“That’s right! Come, come!” Seeing Peter among others was surprising, but his smiling face made you calm down a little, and you smiled at him in return. 
No, they weren’t those guys who stole your underwear, for sure. Apparently, Steve asked them to join you because they knew something and could give you a hand in finding those bastards.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me.” Feeling a little self-conscious among five different men you'd barely known, you landed on one of the chairs and saw that the other two were Bucky and a captain of the academy’s basketball team, Thor. “Did you find out anything?”
“Yes,” Steve said with a loud sigh, “I know exactly who they are. I can hand them over to the school’s officials and get them expelled by tomorrow, but that’s not the real issue here.”
You felt the chills ran up your back. What did he mean by the real issue?
“Is there something else?”
When you saw Loki smirking at you, you suddenly realized you were among five strong men in the student council room on the fifth floor where most classrooms were already empty. If you screamed, nobody would even hear you.
“Stop it.” Bucky’s angry voice cut through the silence, and you saw him literally burning a hole in Loki’s face. “Don’t make her scared, freak.”
Obviously, he wanted to say something offensive to Barnes in return, but Steve silenced them both with his icy glare. Loki sent him an innocent smile while Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes in irritation. It felt like they were in the middle of some school play, and you bit down on your lower lip, having a feeling something was going horribly wrong.
“The thing is, even if we got those ones expelled, it probably won’t stop the others from doing something similar.” Steve leaned up against a desk with his arms crossed over his chest. “I feel terrible admitting it, but many of our students are completely wild. I’m afraid they might keep harassing you.”
“Oh.”
You averted your eyes, realizing your attempts to find a solution were futile. Obviously, Steve could do nothing - he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, ready to protect you day and night from those delinquents who followed you everywhere. As you thought before, the one thing that could help here was leaving the school for good.
Shit, you didn’t know how to explain it to your family, Even your friends thought it was too bizarre to be true and laughed at your worries, saying you probably lost your things yourself. You would have to find a better excuse for a transfer in the middle of the semester.
“Well, anyway, thank you for trying,” you nodded and smiled apologetically at him as if it were your fault, “tomorrow I will talk to the student advisor about my transfer. Sorry for the trouble!”
“I don’t think it’s real to get transferred by now. It’s passed all the deadlines.” Shaking his head, Bucky raised his voice, and you felt suffocating.
Apparently, you would really have to skip a whole year of school. Explaining everything to your family, looking for some garbage job to have enough money to rent a room and pay your bills... Fantastic.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ve found another way.” 
Immediately, you raised your head, your pupils dilating.
“You see, the reason they are doing that is because you have no one to protect you. They know the administration won’t take it seriously because they’re a bunch of old misogynists, and you also have no means of protecting yourself. It would be better if you started dating someone, someone strong enough to make these guys back down.”
Steve looked deadly serious for someone saying such nonsense. A boyfriend? Now? Was he for real? Did he think you'd be using someone like your personal shield? Besides, even if you chose the strongest guy at school, it didn’t mean he would be stronger if several people attacked him.
But when you shared your thoughts with Steve, you saw others smiling at you as if they knew you would say that, and you felt uneasy.
“That’s true. That’s why you need more than one boyfriend.”
“What do you mean? How can somebody have more than one boyfriend?" Puzzled, you stared at him wide-eyed as if he said something stupid.
What on Earth did he mean by that? Were you to have your own squad of bodyguards at all times while you were in the academy? This was so foolish you couldn't believe someone like Steve said it out loud.
But then you caught glances of five men in the room and forgot how to breathe for a second. They weren't serious, were they? Steve didn't assemble all these guys here to make them into your boyfriends. It was preposterous even thinking of that, right?
Right?
"Please tell me it's not what I think it is." You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as if trying to protect yourself.
"Why are you being so nervous?" Baring his teeth, Loki smiled at you. "Some other girl would be happy if five men were to be her boyfriends."
"It's a joke, right? You're all joking."
You hoped to see any of them laughing and nodding their heads, saying they simply wanted to cheer you up, but all you saw was a guilty expression on the faces of Bucky and Thor and the excitement of others. They really gathered here to offer you this.
"All of us here," Steve looked upon others, becoming a little displeased when his gaze fell upon smiling Peter, "are perfectly capable of helping you. If each of us were to accompany you one day a week, others won't be so brave. I'm sure they will no longer be a nuisance to you if they know what we can do to them."
There was something very dark in the way Steve said that, and for a couple of seconds you weren't sure whether you have to be more scared of him rather than those who was stealing your things.
"But it would be very uncomfortable for everyone, wouldn't it? I mean, going with me everywhere, not using your own time as you'd like. And, well, surely, others will see that we won't act like a real couple, so they might still keep harassing me. I don't think it would work."
Apparently, Loki was bored with this talk, you thought as you heard him clicking his tongue in annoyance.
"Then don't pretend. Act like a real girlfriend. Kiss in public, hug, go to the cinema together, what else girls do?"
"Wait, you mean, with ALL of you?"
"Yeah? Do you think anyone gonna be against it?"
You very much hoped they would be. Being followed by someone like your bodyguard was one thing, but having a real boyfriend was very different. Did they really want to pretend to be lovey-dovey with you? Act like you were close to them?
Oh. Of course, they would. They belonged to the same kind of touch-starved barbaric men they were trying to protect you from. They would do all those things to you, too.
You realized you were crying only when Peter flew off his seat in a hurry and squatted down beside you, taking your shaking hands in warm his.
"Please, don't cry. Nobody's gonna force you into doing anything, I promise. You will only do things you're comfortable with, ok?" Handing you his pearly white handkerchief, he smiled to comfort you. "No one of us gonna say anything."
"And if she starts dating one of us for real? What's then?" It was Loki again, cocking his head to the side and obviously provoking Peter to yell at him.
"We'll be ok with that, too."
The silence felt heavy. As you opened your eyes, Peter's handkerchief in your hands, you realized it was Thor who spoke for the first time, and the way he looked at you softly made you feel a little better. Despite the fact you knew little of him, for some reason, it felt like you would be safe with him - certainly safer than with Loki.
"Naturally, if any of us will bring you discomfort or do something unacceptable, you need to let us all know, and we'll decide what to do with that person." Raising his voice, the head of the student council made everyone to turn their head to him. "We will be meeting here, in this room, if anything happens. Each of us will give you our phone numbers. We will also make a schedule who accompanies you every day of the week."
It seemed he no longer asked for your opinion if you even wanted it to happen.
__________
"Bucky will be with you on Mondays, Loki on Tuesdays. Wednesdays are Thor's, on Thursdays Peter will be following you, and on Fridays it will be me going with you. Of course, if you need any of us to watch over you on weekends, feel free to contact whoever of us you like more."
Part III
Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegarden
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imkylotrash · 3 years
Text
On The Edge
Pairing: Riven x reader
Request: Reader is a water fairy & gets infected by a burned one and riven’s scared that the reader dies. Anonymous
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“You know what? I’m done.” People lie when they tell you heartbreak doesn’t kill. You lift your hand to your chest convinced there’ll be a hole from where he ripped your heart out but somehow there’s no injury. 
“You’re done?” It’s masochistic to ask him to repeat it but you just don’t understand how an argument turned into a breakup. You’d mentioned that you were worried about his day drinking which you still are and he’d just lost it. Accused you of wanting to change him and being like everyone else. Clearly, you’d touched a nerve, but you never thought he’d break up with you. 
“I’m just over you always trying to change me. I am who I am.” He grabs his stuff before running out the door. Your feet seem glued to the floor because every time you try to follow him, your feet refuses to move. Maybe it’s the shock holding you in place. 
“What just happened?” Sky asks. Of course, he heard everything. He’s probably been waiting out in the hallway waiting for the fight to be over with. 
“We should get going.” You’re not ready to say it out loud. 
“I thought you said it was a bad idea?” 
“I changed my mind.” You grab his sword and hands it to him. Yesterday, Sky asked you if you were up for a little hunting in the woods to help Silva. You’d told him it was a bad idea and to let the adults handle it, but now you’d do anything to just get out of here. 
“Hey,” he says grabbing your arm, “no distractions. We have to focus when we go out there.” You squash the small voice in your head telling you not to go. 
“I’m fine, really.” You even plaster on a smile to convince him and poor Sky, who is desperate to help Silva, believes you. As you head out, you leave a note for Riven in case he comes back to tell him where you’ve gone and that you want to talk when you get back. It’s just that you don’t return in any condition to talk to him. You don’t remember Sky carrying you back to school or Mr. Harvey treating your wounds. For a while all you feel is pain. Your body is on fire and you’re screaming for someone to help you but it’s no use.
“Baby, I’m right here.” You try to locate the voice but it seems so far away. He keeps talking but you’re in and out of consciousness. 
“Please just open your eyes. I’m so sorry.” He keeps talking but you can’t hear him. The next time you’re conscious, you manage to open your eyes. Even in his sleep, Riven is clutching your hand. You try to feel out in the room but you can’t get a sense of water anywhere. Panic settles in your body. You’ve never been without water in your entire life, even just a glass of water would be enough for you to feel calm. Being in touch with your element keeps you calm but now you can’t feel it at all. 
Riven,” you croak trying to move despite the pain. Immediately, he’s awake asking what you need. 
“Water.” He runs out the door and returns with a glass of water. Just the feeling of it entering the room calms you down. 
“We had to remove everything with water in it while Ben treated the wounds. Your powers were all over the place,” Riven explains grabbing your hand once again. Silence settles in the small room as you drink the water but you don’t need Riven to say it out loud for you to know; you’re not healing. 
“Is Sky okay?” you ask and Riven nods. 
“He brought you back to school. He saved your life,” Riven says in a bitter tone.
“I’m so sorry for what I said,” he whispers finally looking at you. He’s seconds from crying and miles from how he normally acts in situations like these. 
“I didn’t mean any of it. I was angry and I took it out on you. When I came back, you were gone. I kept thinking if something happened to you, it’d be my fault.” 
“Riven, no one is at fault here except me. It was my decision to go out there. I’m sorry I scared you but I’ll be fine.” He keeps quiet and you realise there’s something he’s not telling you. 
“What is it?” you ask wondering if you’re even ready to hear what he’s about to say. Judging by the grim look on his face, it’s not going to be pleasant. 
“They were hunting in groups. Sky managed to kill one but the other got you. Silva’s out hunting for the one who hurt you.” 
“But that’s good news. Sky got the one who injured Silva,” you say not understanding why Riven looks ready to cry. If anyone can find the Burned One, Silva is the one for the job. He used to hunt these during the dark years. 
“We’re running out of time,” Riven says and it hits you like a brick. Sure, Silva is good at hunting these things - maybe even the best - but there’s only so much time before Mr. Harvey can’t keep the infection from spreading. You might die and all you can think about is how much it’ll destroy Riven. 
“There’s hope until the very end, Riven. If you don’t give up, I won’t.”
“Never.” He leans in and kisses your forehead. He’s being as gentle as possible but your entire skin is on fire. You smile promising yourself that as soon as you get a second alone, you’ll get to shed a tear. But right now you remain strong as you look at Riven who’s turned into a complete mess. Your heart breaks for the boy he truly is at heart and how scared he is of people leaving him. 
“Hey,” you say grabbing his chin to make him look at you, “I’m not going anywhere. We have to trust that Silva knows what he’s doing.” You take a deep breath signalling for Riven to do the same. Every breath adds to your pain but it’s worth it if it helps Riven cheer up. What hurts you more than anything is the pain in his eyes. For a moment, it looks like it actually helps then Sky enters. 
“You’re awake,” he states in a surprised tone. 
“I hear you saved my ass out there,” you say hoping to keep the conversation light, “thank you.” 
“Wasn’t easy. Had to drag your ass all the way through the forest. I’ll send you the check from my chiropractor.” You start laughing but it turns into a cough and immediately Riven’s frown makes a return. 
“You should take a shower, handsome. You smell.” Sky laughs locking eyes with you for a brief moment before helping Riven to his feet. 
“I’ll help you to our room, but you gotta handle the shower part on your own,” Sky teases and you’re forever thankful that your hunting partner knows you this well. Although, Riven protests it only takes Sky minutes to drag him out of the room. You finally allow yourself to feel the pain from your wounds. Trying to seem fine is taking its toll on you. Five minutes of self-pity and you’re done. You tell yourself over and over as you try to face the fact that you might not make it through this time. When Sky returns, you’re not quick enough to dry away the tears. 
“He’s showering, you still have a few minutes,” he says quickly and you fall back against the pillows. 
“I don’t want to die,” you whisper admitting the one thing you’ll never be able to admit to Riven. He needs you to be strong but there’s no shame in falling apart in front of Sky. 
“Don’t talk like that. Silva will find the Burned One and kill it.” Ever the fixer trying to see the positive. 
“He doesn’t have much time. I feel it in my bones. It’s spreading and soon Harvey won’t be able to stop it.” Sky tugs a strand of hair behind your ear with a pitiful look in his eyes. He knows you’re right and he knows it’ll destroy Riven. 
“There’s still time. Saul sent word that they were tracking one up North. It might be the one,” Sky offers with a smile. He’s giving you hope when there is none. You know you won’t make it through another night with these wounds. Your fever is too high for your body to keep up. 
“There’s a letter in a shoebox under my bed in case I don’t make it. Please give it to Riven.” You’ve always known that being a fairy comes with certain dangers so you didn’t want to leave unprepared. 
“What are you talking about?” Riven is standing by the door looking like he might break something. “What letter?”
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you say trying to sit up straight. 
“Give us a minute, Sky.” He sends you an apologetic look as he leaves the room. Riven sits down next to you awfully calm. It’s the calm right before he explodes and you’re not sure you’re ready for it. 
“What letter?” he asks again making it clear that he’s not going to drop this. 
“I wrote you a letter in case I was ever injured and didn’t...” 
“In case you didn’t make it? But you said there was hope!” His voice is shaking but you’re not sure if it’s from anger or heartbreak. 
“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to prepare for every outcome. I-” 
“There’s one outcome and that’s you staying alive. Do you hear me?” You bite your tongue and nod. The last thing you need is for the two of you to argue when you might not wake up tomorrow. Instead you pat the empty space next to you and smile. 
“Just be careful,” you whisper as he gently crawls into bed with you. He falls asleep there and at some point, even you fall asleep despite the pain getting worse. You don’t expect to wake up the next day but you do. The fever broke at some point during the night and the foul smell of your wounds have gone away. Not daring to hope you slowly lift up your shirt to find beautiful, pink skin rather than ugly slashes. 
“Riven!” you yell out in excitement. 
“What?” He’s awake in seconds looking for the danger. 
“Saul did it. He found the right one,” you exclaim lifting up your shirt to show him the healing wounds. Your hands are shaking as you cup his cheeks and kiss him. You’re going to be alright. 
“As soon as Mr. Harvey clears you, we’re burning that letter. You don’t get do die on me, alright? Not before we’re old and grey.” You can’t help but smile at the thought of growing old with Riven. 
“Okay.”
1K notes · View notes
letarasstuff · 3 years
Text
"I don't wanna leave you, Daddy"
(A/N): This was requested by an Anon and it's based on this concept. I hope you are ready for the feels.
Summary: Hotch's daughter is an introvert. A quiet one. But why does she go even quieter after her mother's death?
Warnings: So much hurt. Angst. Fluff. It's bitter sweet.
Wordcount: 2.3k
✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________
(Y/N) never really was an outgoing person. Even since she was able to walk and talk, she still clung to her parents. She refused to play on the playground when other children were there. Socializing was just not her thing. Her parents were sure that she would never be the person to stand up and perform on stage spontaneously. And it is ok.
This doesn’t really change when Jack comes around. Sure, as he grows older and more capable of things (Y/N) plays with him. But it really seems like he is the only one around her age she is not afraid to befriend.
Aaron and Haley reassure themselves that their daughter will find friends in elementary school. After all this is an institution where many children go to and there also are adults trained for helping them coming along. She definitely will find at least one other kid to hang out with regularly and learn how to be a proper child. Because as of right now (Y/N) is more like a little adult, taking responsibilities, like watching over her little brother, she doesn’t need to do voluntarily. Maybe she will be more messy, rebellious, anything but a perfect child.
But this doesn’t exactly happen. (Y/N)’s teachers are really happy with her. Every parent-teacher conference is about how well and polite she is, always behaving good and following the rules. Sadly, they don’t have any good news regarding her social life. It’s not that she doesn’t get along with her classmates, it’s just that she isn’t able to strike up a conversation or is very good at keeping one long enough that a kid is interested in her.
Knowing that (Y/N) is mostly quiet in her school days, Aaron makes it a habit to bring her more often to the office. She surprisingly warms quickly up to his team and whenever she is around them the girl is an unstoppable tornado running loose around the bullpen.
This is kind of how she grows up until the age of middle school. (Y/N) learns some social skills and makes a few friends over the last few years. Unfortunately these friendships are not as deep as the parents wish, still it’s better than nothing.
Things get difficult when Aaron and Haley start to separate. It never is easy when parents fall out of love and it is not only difficult for Jack to see his father not as often as he used to, considering he still is a toddler needing both parents. Especially (Y/N), who is more of a daddy’s girl than a mommy’s girl, suffers from the situation at home.
Of course it’s hard on her to not see her father for a week or two at a time, but ever since her parents are going on parted ways she sees him at most one weekend every three weeks. This also changes her social life dramastically.
“(Y/N), don’t you wanna do something with your friends? You can invite them over for the weekend”, Haley suggests after watching her daughter not going out with somebody outside of school for several days. For the past two weeks the ten year old just comes home, does her homework and puts her nose in one of the books her Uncle Spencer recommended.
The girl only looks up at her mother to shake her head. “Why not, Sweetie? I haven’t seen William and John in so long. Are you still friends with them?” (Y/N) nods again. “So what is it? Are you guys fighting?” Haley sits down next to her on her bed.
“No, they just-just don’t know about this. I don’t want to tell them. And I want to stay home. It’s ok how it is right now”, she admits. Her mother’s heart breaks at that statement.
In this moment she realizes that anything a parent does has immediate consequences for the children. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I didn’t know this is so hard for you. Maybe you can talk to them over the next few days about it, I think it’ll help you. Do you want to watch a film with me for now? Jack has a sleepover at a friend’s. We can do a girl’s night. We hadn’t had one in a long time.”
(Y/N)’s eyes light up at that. “With all the candy in the world?” Haley smiles at the newfound excitement. “Of course. Anything you want.”
From only seeing Aaron every now and then it suddenly turns to not knowing when she will see him next. After George Foyet ambushes him and makes his family into the next target, (Y/N), her brother and her mother have to go into witness protection.
The goodbye at the hospital is painful and filled with tears. “But Dad, I don’t want to leave you. I’ll miss you too much. I don’t like not seeing you. And what about you? You will be more lonely and-and I can’t leave you”, she confesses, sobbing into him.
Hotch has to hold his own tears back. He doesn’t want to come over as stoic, but as the strong father figure he always tries to be. “Honey, I know I’ll miss you so much. You have to be strong for your mother. This will not be easy and I know it. I promise to do my best to get all of you back as soon as possible, ok? Please be good for your mother and behave. We all need to work together for you to get back fast and safely.”
(Y/N) continues to cry into his hospital gown. Aaron can’t help it and dissolves in tears himself while trying to calm her down. “Shh, Honey. Everything will be fine. I’m so so sorry for all this. I never wanted something like this to happen. Shh, we will see each other real soon. The team and I will do our best. Just please, don’t cry. Please, it all will be better. I can’t let you go without seeing your beautiful laugh for one last time.”
“I don’t wanna leave you, Daddy. I-I wanna stay with you and Uncle Dave and Auntie JJ and Uncle Spencer and Uncle Der and Auntie Penny and Auntie Em. I’m scared you won’t be fine when we come back.”
It’s needless to say that nobody cracked even a smile that day.
Going into witness protection made Haley worry about Jack especially. He is just four years old and she isn’t sure how much he understands about what’s going on. Surprisingly the boy gets accustomed to the situation pretty fast. Of course he misses his father and his people from school, but he is also quick to meet new ones in the town they moved to.
(Y/N) has bigger problems. New school. New kids. New everything.
“Maybe you can see it as a fresh start. Here is nobody you know. You can be whoever you want to be. I can take you shopping and you can try out a new style”, her mother tries to make the situation sound advantageous to her. But the girl dryly answers: “When somebody doesn’t like me how I am now, how will they like an act?”
Sam Kassmeyer regularly reports back to Aaron about his family’s well being. “Jack is thriving. His teachers describe him as a bundle of joy. (Y/N) slowly gets acclimated to the change. Haley told me she started making friends with a girl in their neighborhood. I already ran a background check and the family is clean.”
Hotch lets out a sigh of relief. He turns towards the image on Penelope’s monitor. “Happy fifth birthday, Buddy.”
A few weeks after that it seems like the events overturn each other.
Foyet coming back. Kassmeyer getting tortured. Foyet finding Haley and the children. Them coming back to their house. The call. Working the case with Jack. The gunshot. The fighting noises. Hotch opening the box and hugging both of his children, relieved to see them alive.
The following weeks are difficult for the now smaller family. They mostly consist of watching videos of happy memories and talking about their feelings. Although it’s more like Jack talking about his feelings, (Y/N) went mostly silent ever since their mother’s death. This worries her father more than anything.
Two months have gone by. “Hey Honey, I’m going into the office today. Do you wanna come with me, stay at home or go to school? Anything is fine by me”, he asks her softly, kneeling beside her chair at the table. The girl is munching on her cereal halfheartedly.
“Can I come to the office?” (Y/N) asks in a hoarse voice. It’s actually the first time in four days that Aaron hears her voice. A small smile forms on his face. “Of course, that’s nice. Aunt Penny is asking me after her favorite Hotchner for days on end now. And Uncle Spencer got a stack of books he has for you to read.”
His daughter nods and quickly gets ready. They are soon on their way to Quantico after dropping Jack off at daycare. “How are your classmates? Do you like the new school?” They decided to send (Y/N) to a different school. She couldn’t bear the thought of only being the girl whose Mom died because of a serial killer.
“It’s fine. There are a few girls who are really nice. I think we can be friends. Mo-” She suddenly cuts herself off. Aaron glances over at her. “Continue, Sweetheart. Just tell me what’s on your mind”, he tries to encourage her.
The girl hesitates before following her father’s advice. “Mom would have liked them,” she mumbles. It’s quiet for a few seconds. Hotch is looking for a suitable answer. After all it’s the first time she talked about her mother since her death. “I’m sure of it, Honey. Maybe you can invite them over and I can get to know them. Think about it, no pressure of course.” (Y/N) nods to indicate that she heard him.
Not long later they enter the bullpen. “There she is! My little Hotchner! How you doing, Baby?” Derek asks her and envelopes her into a hug. But she only shrugs her shoulders. This goes on for the rest of the day. Whenever anyone talks to her, the only answer is given by her body language.
Hotch watches helplessly Spencer trying to engage in a conversation with her. His arms and hands are waving around. (Y/N) though just looks at him without being really there mentally. It seems like she is lost in her own thoughts, like it happened so often over the last few months.
“Have you tried talking to her about it?” Dave asks, sitting down on the chair opposite of him. Aaron looks at him funny. “Of course. But (Y/N) is just not ready to talk about Haley and everybody grieves differently. I can’t force her to speak, Dave.”
The older agent leans back in his seat. “I don’t think she needs to talk about her. This probably is too soon. She needs to talk about you. The changes.” After a short pause, in which the other one still doesn’t get the point, Rossi continues. “That little girl just lost her mother. She is scared to lose her father, the one with the high risk job. I think that is enough to talk about.”
This occupies the agent for the remainder of the day. Aaron was so invested in fulfilling both parent roles, that he forgot that he is just a father. The man his children go to when they have a nightmare. The one, who is more lenient than their mother. He can’t be both ones. He can’t be two people in one.
A kid trusts a mother and a father usually. And he can’t be mother and father at once. Hotch has to accept the fact. The fact that (Y/N) and Jack are going to grow up without a mother. But luckily not without mother figures.
Later that day, after tucking Jack in, Aaron knocks on his daughter’s door. A small “Come in!” echoes back to him. He enters her room and spots (Y/N) already in her bed reading a book Spencer gave her today.
“Hey, do you have time before it’s lights out?” He asks, still wanting to give her the upper hand on this. The girl nods and scoots over for her father to take a place. He lays next to her, pulling his daughter into a hug.
“I know I can’t promise it. Coming back to you every time. You know it as much as I do. But I promise you to try anything and everything in the books. You guys keep me going.” Tears roll over both of their faces.
“I-I just”, (Y/N) moves her head onto his chest to sob into it, “Just don’t wanna lose you, too. I-I don’t think I-I can’t be the girl, who doesn’t have a mother AND a father. C-can you stop that from happening?” Hotch has to wipe his eyes before answering.
“I-I try to keep that from happening, Honey. I promise.”
This is how they fall asleep, squished in a twin bed close to each other. In the morning they both are overheated and got a visitor during the night. Jack wakes them up, asking why they had a sleepover without him.
This morning is the first time Aaron sees (Y/N) smiles since day zero.
Taglist:
All works:
@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962
1K notes · View notes
butterflyyeo · 3 years
Text
jealous
pairing — han jisung x reader
genre — angst (?)
tw — slightly suggestive (?)
wc — 3035
a/n — yall idk wtf this is im trying my best to get better at writing angsty (???) stuff so im really sorry if this is absolute trash T^T. feedback is appreciated !!
———————————
you hadn't seen your brother, chan, for a long time, six months to be exact and of course you missed him dearly. when he called to tell you that he was coming home for a while you nearly cried of joy, however, the happiness faded when he mentioned that he'd be bringing his band mates, that meant changbin... and han jisung.
it wasn't exactly a secret that you didn't get along with jisung, and you never knew why. he always just irked you a bit, and on purpose too. it was constant bickering between the two of you, fortunately, chan and changbin had learnt to tolerate it. speaking of changbin, you actually quite liked him and he was rather fond of you too. chan knew this, in fact, chan saw all the underlying tension between you and the rest of 3racha. he was thankful that he was your brother, but he didn't have to intervene, he was fully aware that you could handle these things on your own. unless of course you asked for help, and in that case, he would go to war for you.
a sturdy knock hit the door a few times and you ran to the door, unlocking it.
"channie!!" you leaped onto him and hugged him tightly. he dropped his bags down to the floor just so he could hug you back. "i've missed you so much!" you said as you hopped down and picked up both of his bags.
he grinned, "i've missed you too, y/n."
your smile dropped almost instantly as you saw jisung leaning against the doorway, a smirk across his face that just made you want to slap him. faking a smile, you greeted changbin, "hey changbin! good to see you." he gave you a sincere nod and smile before picking up his suitcase. "now chan, shall i put these in the guest room?" you asked, chan was already going through the fridge, looking for food.
"mm." he mumbled. you took it as a yes and heaved his bags to the guest room, dumping them beside the bed. as you turned around to help changbin with his luggage, someone blocked your way.
"you didn't say hello to me?" jisung questioned, though, it sounded more like a statement.
huffing, you responded, "why would i?"
"because you love me," he said as he leaned in close. "and you missed me."
"you must be confused." you shrugged and pushed past him. that was too close for comfort. you thought as you walked out and picked up changbin's last bag.
"hey y/n," chan began, "what's for dinner?"
you sighed, "i'm gonna have to go shopping chan, i don't have enough food for all of you." you went to put your shoes on and a jacket too, since it was getting late and more chilly outside. "who wants to chauffeur me to the grocery store?" you joked.
"anything for you, my love." jisung said teasingly as he held his hand out to you.
"uh, i'd rather not." you swatted his hand away. "c'mon changbin, let's go!" you said while dragging changbin up from the sofa. he groaned, but honestly he didn't mind so much. he was just being a big baby.
the car trip was short and quiet, mainly because changbin was tired from all the travelling they had done to get to your house. plus, their schedule has been so full lately, they were lucky to have this time off.
wandering through isles, you began picking up ingredients and placing them intro a trolley.
"you really missed us?" changbin began, "me and chan of course..." he trailed off but a playful smile tugged at his lips.
"of course i am! jisung on the other hand..." you rolled your eyes, pushing the trolley along.
he chucked, "you really still hate each other? after all these years?"
you huffed, a little too obnoxiously, "yes. i do still hate him. and i'm sure he despises me too. i don't even know what it is... it's just... the way he treats me. he acts like he deserves my friendship, which he doesn't. it's something you earn."
"remind me to never piss you off." changbin laughed as he put a bag of chips in the trolley.
once you had everything you needed you put it through the register, changbin insisted he paid, since you were letting the three of them live with you.
shortly after you arrived home, you began cooking. while he wasn't the best, changbin offered to help as best he could. you actually thought it was really sweet. he passed you utensils, condiments and he even set the table.
meanwhile, chan was fast asleep in the guest room and jisung was showering in the provided ensuite. you turned to changbin and high fived him, "we're all done! i should wake up chan. you can start eating if you want." proud of his efforts, changbin sat down and began to eat.
gently pressing the door open to the guest room, you whispered, "chan? dinner is ready." you walked over to him and was about to softly shake him when jisung walked out of the bathroom, only a towel around his waist. his tousled wet hair dripped little drops of water down his chest and it was rather overwhelming to see him so exposed.
contrary to your thoughts, he couldn't care less, he enjoyed watching the way you panicked and blushed heavily. if this is what it takes. he thought.
"oh! um, jisung. i'm so sorry, i was just coming to tell chan that dinner is ready, i should've knocked or-" you blurted out in a quiet voice, weary of chan waking up.
jisung let out a low chuckle, "it's fine, y/n. i'll wake him up once i've dressed."
"thanks," you said as you went to leave, "wait... no snarky comment?" you puzzled.
he said nothing, just winked at you as you closed the door.
you joined changbin at the dinner table, sitting across from him. "how's the food?" you asked as you took a bite for yourself.
"y/n it's amazing! you're seriously a great cook. man, i wish i was this good." he said as he took a small bite of the spaghetti you had prepared.
at that moment, chan dawdled out the door and jisung closely behind. they joined you at the table and also began eating.
"don't worry about it binnie, i can teach you to cook, years of living on my own without chan seems to have payed off a bit." you joked.
"binnie?" jisung questioned the nickname you had given to changbin, whilst changbin sat there furiously blushing. he tried to hide it by lowering his head but that honestly seemed it give it away more.
"sounds cute." you shrugged, not thinking much of it.
chan cleared his throat, "okay so here's the plan for tomorrow," he began, taking another bite of spaghetti, "changbin and i have to go talk to JYP about an upcoming show we are doing, so we could be gone all day with that. there's lots to plan."
"wait a second, why am i not going? i'm apart of 3racha too." jisung stated.
changbin replied, "did you get the email from him?"
jisung shook his head, "well, no but-"
"then you're not coming." changbin grinned cheekily, knowing this upset jisung.
when everyone had finished with their meal, changbin stood up and collected all the dirty dishes, only to begin washing them in the sink. you quickly tried to stop him, "oh, changbin! don't worry i can do that." you said as you tried to take over, but he refused.
"no. you won't. dinner was great! you've done enough for today, if we are gonna be living here for the next few weeks then i might as well be of some use." he smiled at you before nodding to the tv, signalling for you to relax.
tired as ever, chan come over and kissed your head goodnight before going back to sleep. by now it was nearly 10pm, you had a late dinner but that was because they arrived later than expected.
you sat down on the sofa and began browsing movies. you decided to watch your favourite, even though you've seen it a million times. once he was finished with the dishes, changbin joined you on the sofa to watch the movie, you quickly filled him in on all the little details of the plot.
jisung was still sitting at the dinner table, scrolling through his phone, he was contemplating coming to join the two of you in watching the movie, but decided against it when he saw changbin put his arm around you. rolling his eyes and scoffing a little too loud, jisung stood up and went to the guest room he was sharing with chan. he tried his best not to slam the door but somehow that didn't happen.
"huh, wonder what's up with him?" changbin asked, looking at the door wide eyed. "i'll go check, sorry, i'll be back in a sec." he followed jisung into the guest room, you heard changbin quietly ask if he was okay.
what started as a whispered discussion soon became a hushed argument, you were worried that soon they would start yelling at each other. luckily chan was a deep sleeper, he also slept with earphones in, so you were pretty sure he wouldn't hear any of it.
the minutes passed and their quarreling continued, you debated going in there to try and make some peace but you decided against it, this seemed to be something personal between the two of them. instead, you switched off the tv and the lights, and went got ready for bed. as you were about to close your eyes you heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the door opening and closing. whoever it was, you knew they could take care of themselves, they were both adults and probably just needed some space.
when you woke up, it was around 7am. you quickly threw a hoodie on over your shirt, feeling a bit cold and walked into the living space to see changbin, sleeping softly on the sofa. it only just occurred to you that there wasn't enough beds for all of you in your current living situation.
you gently peeked into chan's room to see him sprawled out, sleeping a deep sleep. you smiled to yourself, knowing that he got all the sleep he deserved. the empty bed in the room didn't go unnoticed however.
it was jisung who left last night. and he didn't seem to be back yet.
slightly worried, you decided to cook up some bacon and eggs for when the boys woke up.
"morning y/n." you turned around to see changbin leaning against the kitchen counter.
you smiled, "morning! sorry if i woke you up, i'm just making some breakfast, you've probably got time to shower if you want to before you eat."
"serious? man, what did we do to deserve you?" changbin said looking at you sincerely.
you laughed lightly, "nothing, now go! and please wake chan up when you get out."
he just chuckled as he walked away and closed the guest room door behind him. you wondered if you should make enough breakfast for jisung, would he be back soon? if he wasn't, he could just re-heat it, you thought.
the last few pieces of bacon finished cooking so you begin buttering the toast, you made a lot knowing that chan has a big appetite and there was a good chance they wouldn't have time to eat today. your train of thought was interrupted once again by changbin.
"anything i can do to help?" he asked, he was dressed quite smartly, but you understood as he was going to console with JYP himself.
"nope! i'm just about done, plus, you wouldn't want to dirty your clothes," you said as you began serving breakfast.
"ah okay, i woke chan up, he wanted to have a shower so he shouldn't be too much longer." he said, "can i?" he asked, pointing to one of the cups of steaming hot coffee you set on the counter.
"of course!" you said. a question burned in the back of your mind and you wondered if you should ask or not. "uh, changbin..." you began.
changbin knew exactly what you were about to say, "he's okay, y/n. he just wanted some space." his eyes stared at the wall blankly. there was more to this than needing space.
"so.. why was he upset then? you guys had a pretty heated argument.."
changbin's eyes met yours, "i'm sorry you had to hear that." he took a sip of coffee, "we just had a bit of a disagreement, it happens all the time... you see, the thing is-"
"good morning to my favourite people!" chan said as he waltzed out of the guest room, also looking rather sharp.
you and changbin smiled at his enthusiasm, "morning!" the two of you chimed back.
"breakfast made? hot coffee? you seriously are the best sister in the world! it's like we're staying at a five star hotel." chan said picking up a mug of coffee.
you laughed, "i'm your only sister."
he shrugged, "still the best," he took a sip and hummed, looking around the room, "hey, where's jisung?"
"i don't know. i heard him leave last night." you said, placing two plates of food at the dinner table.
chan sent a red hot glare at changbin, knowing exactly why jisung would've stormed out. changbin looked away sheepishly.
"okay, well, breakfast is ready! eat up, you guys have a busy day." you said sitting down in front of a plate.
chan and changbin began discussing things for later with JYP, while you just sat their mindlessly eating your breakfast. you still couldn't help but wonder where jisung had went, and why he wasn't back yet.
you had completely zoned out and was just picking at the scraps of your plate when chan spoke, "well that was seriously great y/n! what a good way to start the day."
you smiled at your brother, "ah, it's the least i can do, maybe you could ask JYP if you can dedicate a song to me in return."
the three of you laughed and you began to clear up the plates while the boys finished getting ready. shortly after, they said their goodbyes and closed the front door behind them. although the door muffled his voice, you heard chan say to changbin, "you seriously fought over that again?"
you sighed to yourself, what were you going to do all day? you decided to finish cleaning up and have a shower.
you let the water run until it was warm before stepping in, you had to remember to be mindful because you often got carried away and distracted in the shower and lost track of time.
which is, exactly what happened, before you knew it you had been half an hour. shit, you thought. as you wrapped a towel around your body, you remembered jisung and how you saw a little too much of him after he showered. you blushed furiously just remembering it. that's when you realised that your feelings for changbin were just a deflection of the feelings you have for jisung. you're ridiculous, you thought. he hates you, despises you, enjoys making fun of you. you quickly ruled out the possibility of him ever returning the feeling and finished dressing.
you spent the day multitasking some of your studies while watching movie after movie, trying to be somewhat productive. your stomach suddenly growled and you checked the time, "must be time for lun-" you said aloud, "oh, it's 5pm." you laughed at your silly sense of time and how you had got carried away all day. but you soon frowned, 5pm and jisung still wasn't back?
since the boys weren't home you made yourself a light meal and sat at the dinner table alone, listening to some background music. it was actually quite relaxing. the evening golden sun shone through the window as you finished eating. you quickly began washing up your plate, when you heard the door creak open.
"oh, chan you're home! i just finished eating, but i can make something for you and changbin just give me a min-" but when you turned around to greet them, it wasn't chan or changbin. it was jisung. "jisung."
"are you gonna admit that you missed me this time? or do i have to leave for longer?" he smirked but you just sighed in relief. you hated to confess that you worried you wouldn't hear his stupid comments for a long while.
you spoke quietly, "of course i missed you. i was worried sick."
"oh? worried now?" he toyed.
"yes, worried! i heard you arguing with changbin and then you left!" you exclaimed.
his face turned away at the mention of changbin's name, "well sometimes changbin and i argue, it's normal."
you scoffed, "that's what he said."
"he told you?" jisung asked.
"no, he didn't tell me what you fought about, but it would seem that it isn't the first time because i heard chan scolding him after they left this morning." you admitted.
"they're not back?"
you shook your head, "nope," jisung looked away, "look, i just had dinner but is there anything you want?"
"yeah." he began.
"what would you like?" you asked.
"you." jisung said bluntly, catching you off guard. "and changbin wants you too."
it all made sense now. "oh, i, i see.." you said, quite taken aback. "jisung, it could ruin everything, we'd be playing with fire."
"i don't care, y/n." he said taking a few steps closer.
"but, chan is my brother." you said.
"he's my best friend." jisung countered, coming closer again.
"what about changbin?" you asked.
"he's also my best friend." at this point, jisung was standing face to face with you.
"hang on a second," you took a step back, hitting the counter, "i don't owe you anything." you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips.
he smirked, "but i owe you everything."
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maijobi · 3 years
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a thin line
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dabi x reader
summary: dabi always seemed to work against your plans so you decided to confront him not knowing what he’d actually after the argument..
a/n: this is make-up for my last fic cuz i was most definitely not proud of that one shxjsjch.. anyways hope you enjoy this one bc I think I actually like the outcome even though it was a bit stressful to come up with the idea.
also,, the ending is an idea I found off of instagram and I was excited to use it here
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“why don’t we just infiltrate friday at the ball?”, dabi asked shigaraki as he was looking at the plan in front of him.
“because that’d be too much of a risk”, you said, glaring at him and pointing out the obvious.
“a little bit of risks couldn’t hurt you once in a while” dabi snapped at you with a grin.
“alright sir know it all, just about how do you think to get past all the people and guards that’ll literally be standing in front of every door?”, you asked raising one eyebrow. 
“we’ll figure out a way”, he said.
“you don’t even know how you’ll do it, so I say let’s not go for the uncertain. I say we do it during the auction. the guards will be located around the auction area and not the main hall that leads to the big office, where we need to be. if we can get someone to hack the system, getting in will be a piece of cake. I figured out this’ll have a 99% of success based on the analytics we have made till now”, you said confidently. “plus I think I can do the actual infiltration so I can take that job on me. after all i’m the only one that’ll actually get the job done uncaught. “
“sounds too boring. where is the killing? where is the fun?”, dabi said with a bored face. 
“no killing is needed unless someone gets in our way. not everyone needs to actually die in order for us to get to the point we want dabi”, you said irritated at his constant counteraction. 
“alright let’s just take a break for now”, shigaraki said. “for now let’s figure out a detailed plan for both and we’ll choose the one that’ll work out best.”
“but-”, you said.
“if it means you’ll both stop bickering out of hate for once around me I wanna put a pause on this for now. we’ll talk about it tomorrow”, shigaraki said.
“hate? oh no I love her so much”, he teasingly said, making you roll your eyes.
“such a thin line between your love and hate. I give you guys till tomorrow to work your plan out better”, shigaraki said while sighing and taking his leave.
“ugh, this is all your fault”, you said to dabi wile turning away from him and walking to the door after shigaraki was completely out of sight.
“hold on, hold on”, he said confused as he stopped you by turning you around from your shoulder. “how is this suddenly my fault?”
“suggesting plans that dont even make sense?”, you said.
“shigaraki asked us to give him ideas and I did? I don’t see the issue here”, he said not giving in.
“you’re just suggesting your plan because you don’t want mine to work out. it’s literally so obvious, I don’t get why you’re always up in my business and trying to make my plans look bad in front of shigaraki”, you spat, actually getting pissed at him.
“because if your plan gets chosen it’ll put you in danger most”, he suddenly said. you felt taken aback.
“why do you care so much about my so called well being when in reality you don’t even like me?”, you asked. 
“who said I didn’t like you? you just decided that on your own because you didn’t like the idea of me joining your little gang”, he said.
“thats not true”, you said.
“then why is it that you assumed i’d hate you the same way you hate me”, he asked looking at you with his lips pressed against each other and his eyebrows raised.
“you always work against me?”, you said pointing the obvious.
“you might be right there”, he said,”but I have my reasons.”
“these reasons being my so called well being?”, you asked uninterested.
“yes.”
the determination in his voice made you silent for a second. you were slightly shocked at how pure and genuine his words felt. you weren’t sure how to answer on that. but even the slight shyness you felt because of his concern, was overpowered by your anger.
“very nice of you, but I didn’t ask you to care for me. i’m capable of taking care of myself. look out for yourself next time and don’t interrupt my ideas for the sake of your selfish desires. we’re adults, so act like it”, you said walking away for real this time.
“so my sincere words mean literally nothing to you?”, he asked in a slightly angry tone while following you to the common room.
“why are you following me?”, you asked, getting annoyed at his pushy behaviour. 
“cuz i’m trying to get a point across here. it’d be nice if you considered other’s feelings here once in a while”, he said.
you stopped when you were in the center of the room. you were facing him with your back, but turned around with a very annoyed and angry face. “let’s get one thing straight”, you said taking a step closer to him”, no one is here to actually create a family bond. we’re here to interfere and shake up the hero world that failed to be actual heroes to us. I do what’s best for me, but has an actual good outcome for the others too. so don’t go around telling me to consider other’s feelings when all you do is care for your own selfish desires”, you bitterly said. “just when I thought you might have actually cared, you showed just how selfish you are. just when i thought you might not be that bad of a person”, you said rather disappointed instead of angry.
when he spoke no word you decided to take your leave again, walking past him. but before you could actually get to the door you heard his footsteps and before you knew it he was holding your wrist and stopping you from walking even an inch further.
“why won’t you just leave me alone”, you frustratingly said.
he turned you around and pulled you close to him. he bent over you and was almost touching his forehead with yours. “you know why”, he whispered. “because of this.”
he crashed his lips against yours and there was absolutely nothing soft about it. it was rough and messy, yet passionate. it made you feel hot inside, not the fuzzy and warm type of hot, but a burning sensation you felt all over your body. it was as if he was lighting you on fire. 
but it felt good.
so good, that you forgot about why you were even mad, but the furiousness lingered and made the tension even bigger. you let him devour every piece of you and you didn’t care about the bite marks he’d leave on your lips. lips moving open mouthed and tongues dancing together. you were feeling almost every part of him and he’d groan in between, sending shivers down your spine.
when the both of you parted he looked in your eyes, as if he was staring through your soul. you were searching his face, waiting for a sign that he’d speak.
but instead he kissed you again. but this time softer, warmer. the one that made you feel fuzzy and warm inside. something you never knew he was capable of doing. he was still holding your wrist with one hand and the other made its way to your back. he pulled you closer, slowly and softly. he’d kiss you ever so gently that it felt like he had become a totally different person than only a few seconds ago. but you were not complaining at all. 
he slowly parted away from you and when you looked at him you saw his red cheeks and closed eyes. and when he slowly opened them you could see a version of dabi which you’d never seen before. that soft look no one had ever seen, all the hatred and anger you were feeling a few minutes ago all gone, overshadowed by the soft look he was giving.
“I thought you hated me”, he teased, caressing your cheeks while giving you a soft smile.
“things change...”, you muttered.
“you’re cute when you don’t want to admit things aloud, you know. Go on, just say that you like me”, he said while stopping his movements on your cheeks and making sure you were looking at him and only him.
you should have seen it coming. him making you feel this way. you always said your personalities clashed, but they clashed so much, that you actually overlooked just how fitting they actually were. the polar opposites, yet the same. you weren’t completely sure how to describe it, but it was something you had never experienced before. it could be a challenge coming up your way, but you figured it was something worth battling for. 
because after all, there was only a thin line between the hate and love you felt for each other.
148 notes · View notes
jackrrabbit · 4 years
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Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader (18+)
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Summary: You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, it’s not going to be so easy to get rid of him.
A/N: I could write a term paper on all of Dabi’s pathologies in this fic...I forgot how much I love writing smutty angst. Good shit 👌
I was planning on making this a ficlet so it’s kinda structured like that even though it ended up a full-length piece. Also, Dabi says some bullshit about sex work that I absolutely do not agree with or condone so please keep that in mind.
➠ see also: [homeowners association]
Tags/warnings: Dabi victimizes you, noncon/dubcon, light yandere, threats, cheating, NTR kinda?, mentions of past sex work, degradation, rough sex (breath play, impact play, crying), mild violence, very brief mentions of past child abuse in the Todoroki household, sad stuff/angst idk lol, *Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood plays in the background*
Dabi would know you anywhere.
You’re different now, which makes sense. It’s been years. Your old uniform of raggedy denim and hand-me-down leather has been replaced with a prim linen dress, designer label at the collar. You used to dye your hair religiously (it was neon pink when he saw you last) but now it’s styled back to your natural shade, a color he only saw back then when your roots grew out. You smell good, expensive. It does take him a second to recognize you without smudged pencil eyeliner drawn under your eyes like in the old days, but once he catches your gaze the realization is immediate.
It’s you. You. You.
You recognize him too, but your reaction is different—shock, then panic; you tug the arm of the man at your side, urging him to walk faster so you can pass Dabi on the sidewalk. The rejection stings for a second, but he isn’t too surprised. You did abandon him, after all.
Dabi doesn’t let it bother him. You’re not going to get away that easy. He pulls you into conversation, grinning when you reluctantly introduce him to your companion (who is, apparently, your husband) as an old friend from school. You didn’t go to school—Dabi knows that, and you know that, but your husband doesn’t. Which means your husband isn’t aware of your sordid past as a runaway.
This is going to be fun.
Once he knows you’re in town, he doesn’t have much trouble finding you. Your husband is a very wealthy man, well-known in this city now that he’s moved here. So this is what you’ve been up to all these years? Shacking up with some ugly motherfucker who’s at least 20 years your senior because he can afford to dress you up in pretty things and take you on overseas vacations? Dabi has to admit, he wouldn’t have thought it of you. Back when he knew you, you were so sincere, such an idealist, even in your darkest nights.
Then again…you always were willing to get your hands dirty in exchange for a warm meal and a place to sleep. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you think.
Dabi comes to your house in the middle of the day when your husband’s at work and you’re stuck at home because that’s what you are now, a housewife. From a cocksucking whore to a pretty housewife with a dirty little secret. He’s getting hard just thinking about it as he watches your internal debate on whether to let him in or not. Eventually guilt wins out and you usher him inside, hoping the neighbors didn’t see a known villain lurking on your doorstep.
You make Dabi coffee (and aww, you remember exactly how he likes it). He gets you to talking, and you don’t seen surprised to learn about his current line of work; when he presses you, you admit that you’ve been following him in the news. Your life, in comparison, has been wholly uninteresting: you met a man, he proposed, and you married him. Very little has happened to you since. After a long silence you timidly apologize to Dabi for leaving him behind when you two were teenagers, and he tells you he understands.
He doesn’t forgive you.
Overall, things are good, he tells you. But you know, sometimes he misses the old days. Being on the run with you, stealing food from gas stations, breaking into fancy summer homes and pretending the two of you lived there. Stitching up each other’s cuts, because one of you had always gotten in a fight in the past few days. Sometimes he still has dreams about the smell of the balm you used on his fresh burns…and your cool hands, smoothing gently across the tender skin on his face, but he doesn’t say that.
You look down into your monogrammed coffee mug and tell him you know what he means.
When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.
Then you offered to let him do yours. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did. You were older and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and heard your voice saying you trusted him, it was the first time he ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.
He chose twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It hadn’t been long since he got the worst burns on his face (the ones under his eyes, wrapping around his chin and down his neck) and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the ugly, wrinkled scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he started.
A monster. A freak. A victim.
“A badass,” you said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”
Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.
…But the longer he reminisces, the more nostalgia’s going to distract him. He came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to have coffee with you and talk about the good old days. What he’s about to take from you—what he’s about to make you give—is long overdue.
You’ve still got a little fight in you. Dabi likes that. But you’ve gone soft, filling out and losing muscle in places where you used to be lean and hard from the constant running and fighting of your old lifestyle. Besides, even if you were as strong as you’d been back then, he’d still be stronger than you—he’s a man now, and it’s incredible how small and weak you seem now that he can look at you as a man.
Were your punches always this light? No way…and your wrists couldn’t have always been this delicate. It’s really no trouble at all for him to wrestle you down to the couch and pin you there so he can tear off your stupid little housewife dress and tug your panties down past your ankles.
Once he’s got you fully naked, though, you pretty much give up trying to fight him off. It’s sad, really—like you’re remembering the past, remembering all the times you let other men hold you and fuck you just so you could have enough money to take yourself and Dabi to McDonalds for a few days. And now look, you’re plenty well-fed, but Dabi’s the one holding you down against your will. Funny how things change like that.
He does appreciate your submission, since it gives him the chance to get a decent look at you. The years have been kind—you look so much healthier than you used to. No more visible ribcage stretching out your skin; no more unhealthy pallor from going outside only at night. Your hands are as soft and manicured as if you’ve never done a day’s work in your life, a far cry from the bitten nails and bloody knuckles of your youth. It’s good to see you like this, and he lingers for a second, drinking in the sight of you and committing you to memory.
Dabi’s pictured this moment for years. He used to think he’d savor it, be sweet with you, slow and gentle to show you what you were missing with the trashy guys you used to hang out with. But now, hey—he’s the trashy one, he’s the one who wants to hurt you and own you and ruin you. May as well act like it.
Your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?
You’re unbelievably tight for a former whore. Dabi can barely hold out when he first pushes into you, licking the tears off your cheeks when apparently it hurts too much for you to keep up a brave face. It takes real effort to fuck himself all the way into you, pushing past the tense squeeze of your muscles while you…well, you’re not exactly wet, but he’ll get you there. As soon as his hips are grinding up against yours, he’s hitching your legs up on his shoulders and pounding you into your stuffy antique couch so deeply that he thinks it might splinter into pieces underneath the two of you.
God, you’re so, so, tight. Dabi feels like a virgin with his cock buried inside you, biting his lip so he doesn’t cum in thirty seconds and thrusting into you with a rhythm that comes from nothing less than pure animal instinct. And you’re getting into it too. Can you tell that your pleading and begging him to get off you is turning into moaning? Can you feel your hips bucking weakly back against his, reverting to the position of the submissive bitch your body remembers even if your mind has tried to forget?
It’s perfect, right and good and perfect, everything Dabi’s been waiting for since he first knew what it was to want someone—no, not just someone. You. It’s always been you. A person never forgets their first love, right? It’s perfect, except—except you won’t look at him, you keep looking off to the side and sniffling, and that’s not going to cut it. So he slows down and wrenches your head back to center and makes you kiss him, sliding his tongue over yours and trying to see if he can feel the place where you used to have a piercing there, too. It’s kind of thrilling, actually—wondering whenever his face dips into yours if you’re going to bite him, if he’ll come back from you with blood in his mouth.
He’s only got to thumb over your clit a couple times before you’re clamping down on him, your body begging to be used and abused. Your husband hasn’t been treating you right, though Dabi doubts the old bastard can even get it up without a blue pill. Sure, you look like a sweet little doll, so darling and delicate and breakable, but Dabi knows you better than that. You’re strong, you can take it. He knows you want it rough, so that’s how he’ll give it to you—and hey, hey, he can feel your cunt quivering around him—you’re cumming, aren’t you? So you like it. You like it.
He knew he wasn’t going to last long before, but when you cum and tighten and squeal so high he thinks you could lose your voice, the tension in his abdomen rises up and he digs his fingers into your hips and—shit, you’re saying something, what are you saying? You’re pleading, begging him not to cum inside—but, ohhhhhh fuck he can’t help it, he can’t, he can’t, he’s cumming all the way deep into your tight little snatch, cockhead jutting up at your cervix, fucking his semen all the way through you until your slit is smeared white from top to bottom.
Stop crying. Dabi’s sick of hearing you cry.
You’re still pretty nimble, even though your current exercise regimen probably doesn’t extend beyond periodic jogs around your neighborhood and weekly pilates with all the other bored trophy wives. He’s kind of surprised when as soon as he lifts himself off of you, you have the strength to roll off the couch and scramble around on the floor for your clothing.
You don’t say anything, which he wasn’t expecting. You don’t scream at him, demand that he leave, or ask him how he could do this to you after everything the two of you went through together. You probably still think of yourself as an older sister when it comes to him.
When you’d first met the scarred kid trying and failing to live off the streets, you knew he wasn’t cut out for this. He’d known pain before, plenty of pain (icy-blue fire roasting the skin off his face—spiral fracture from callused hands twisting his arm behind his back—cold, aching muscles after what he thinks is the fifth hour spent locked in a closet), but he’d never known hunger. Hunger was a different kind of beast, one that would chew the kid up and spit him out and leave him broken if you didn’t take him under your wing, so you did.
It wasn’t like you had much of anything to spare, but you made it work. For a few years. He didn’t talk at first, but he took what you gave him, so you gave him what you could: food, if you had it; a place to sleep at night; the knowledge you’d gathered in your own years as a runaway on how he was supposed to survive in a world that didn’t care whether he lived or rotted away in a gutter. You cared.
Until you didn’t.
‘Going to be traveling alone for a while. Don’t wait for me. I’m sorry,’ your note had read. You left it in his backpack along with $43 in cash—not much, but he knew it was more than you could afford. It was all you had.
And now you have all of this! Don’t you feel lucky? You have the rich husband who barely looks at you, the big house with so many empty unused rooms it makes him sick, more food than you could possibly eat in one lifetime. All of that, and you also have Dabi’s semen leaking out of your cunt. It’s a real rags-to-riches story, he thinks.
Dabi picks a cigarette out of his jacket and you stop fixing up the buttons on your dress to ask him not to light it inside. How will you explain the smell to your husband? Every move you make, every syllable that comes out of your mouth, is weighed down by despair. You look like you’ve been beaten.
He lights the cigarette anyway.
///
Before he had you the first time, Dabi thought once would be enough. Pretty naive, huh?
He makes it his mission to fuck you in every room of your husband’s gluttonously enormous mansion (what with your history Dabi has a hard time thinking of the house as yours, and considering the way you tiptoe around and seem like you’re afraid to move so much as a vase, he suspects you feel the same). There’s a lot of rooms.
When he shows up at your door again you don’t even bother to hear him out, instead just trying to shut it on him, but he forces his way in. You wouldn’t want to make him mad, would you? Not when he’s got such a filthy secret hanging over your head? Will your husband keep paying for your designer shopping trips when he knows you’re a street rat who used to steal everything she wore? Will he still kiss you goodnight when Dabi tells him you used to wrap those pretty lips around strangers’ cocks for money?
If you want Dabi to keep quiet, you’re going to have to convince him the best way you know how. A cockwhore is a cockwhore. That’s not the kind of stain you get to wipe away with time and distance and expensive clothing.
In the kitchen: standing up, your back to his front and your hands barely holding you up on the counter, so hard and rough and deep that the dishes are rattling in the pantry. One of your teacups falls out of the glass china cabinet and shatters into a million fragments in a four foot radius over the tiled floor. Neither of you notice until after. Blunt red lines press themselves into the tops of your thighs where he’s shoving your body into the edge of the counter and there are bruises on your tits from how hard he’s groping you.
In the dining room: sitting on the edge of the table, one of your legs hiked up beside you and the other on a chair while Dabi kneels on the ground in front of you, his head between your thighs and his tongue flicking over your pussy. You start off thinking that you’re going to have to sanitize the entire mahogany surface before you can eat off it again and then he licks his lips and sucks on your throbbing clit and you don’t really think about anything else after that.
In your husband’s study: doggy-style on the floor in front of the fireplace, facedown, his body folded over yours, pressing you so deep into the tacky lion-skin rug that you can taste it. He sighs in your ear—actually, you’re not sure if it’s a sigh or a growl—and his hand comes up to cover yours. You feel the metal stitches and the rough burned skin scraping on your own and it reminds you that it’s him. It’s Dabi.
(A few days after his 13th birthday, the Dabi you used to know told you that he was going to dye his hair—he wanted to be unrecognizable, and you understood, so you found some old scissors and stole hair dye from the pharmacy and you spent three long hours chopping his hair into rough spikes and painting it black. When you washed the dye out of his hair in the sink, your hands were stained inky black too. When he saw, he looked worried and weaved his fingers in with yours and asked if the dye would hurt your skin if it stayed on too long.
And you looked back at this kid—small for his age then, burned by his own quirk, trying so hard to look older and tougher than any 13-year-old should have to be, and you thought to yourself, I would die for you.)
Now you hear Dabi growling out your name and squeezing your hand as he reaches his climax and you think, I would kill you if I could.
///
Dabi saves the master bedroom for last.
Your husband is hosting a party at your house. Dabi knows because you begged him not to come today, looking up at him with those doe-like eyes, offering things you never would have offered if it weren’t important to you that he stay away on this particular evening. But he still comes to crash it. He arrives just minutes before your husband does, and you have barely enough time to tuck him away on the dark bedroom balcony and pull the curtains closed before your husband is opening the door and greeting you.
Dabi settles himself into one of the tasteful Adirondack chairs on the balcony and listens to your voice, or at least what he can hear of it through the sliding glass door. You’re sweeter with your husband than you are with Dabi, and he should’ve known you’d be, but it still makes him hate your husband more than he already did.
On the other hand, there’s something strained and high and nervous in the way you’re speaking. Probably because your husband is standing about twenty feet away from the man you’re cheating on him with.
It takes a while for the two of you to dress for the party, but finally Dabi hears you tell your husband that you’d like to take a little longer to get ready and bid him goodbye. “Love you,” you say to the old man as he leaves the room, so casually Dabi might not have heard it if he wasn’t listening.
Then you’re opening the door and ushering him inside and telling him anxiously that he has to get out before anyone sees him. But, oh, you look nice like this, dolled up in your evening gown and makeup and diamonds, trying to pull him to the door even though you must know by now that he’s not going to leave it there. Instead of following, he backs you up onto the bed and peels down the straps of your dress and slides his hands up under the skirt, and all the while he can’t stop thinking about what you said to your husband.
You used to say that to Dabi.
The first time it was an accident—you’d mentioned it off-hand during a night when it was snowing and his unnaturally high body temperature was the only thing keeping the two of you alive. “God, I love you,” you’d said, draping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to share his heat.
It had stunned him and you could probably tell. Maybe the next few times were just you taking pity on a kid who had never been told so casually and so simply that he was loved. But eventually you meant it, the little love you’s before you went to sleep or when one of you went off to do something alone for a few days—a familial love borne of mutual reliance. For the years Dabi was a runaway with you, you were the only person he could trust, and he knows the feeling was mutual.
Now he wants you to tell him you love him again.
It would be hot, wouldn’t it? You telling Dabi you love him while he forces you into a mating press on the bed you share with your husband. Isn’t that hot? You’re never going to be able to sleep on these sheets again without remembering his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock filling you in ways you haven’t been filled since you were 19.
How are you gonna lay next to your husband in this sad cold bed? ‘Cause that old fuck isn’t touching you, Dabi knows that much—if he was, he’d’ve noticed by now that you’re always covered in bite marks and hickeys that he didn’t give you. How are you gonna sleep at night knowing what a nasty slut you are, telling another man you love him?
So say it. Say you love him.
Oh, you’re going to be like that, aren’t you? What did he tell you about being a fucking brat when he’s talking to you? See if you’re still so defiant when he’s got his hand stroking the length of that pretty throat and then sealing down on it, squeezing gently on the veins running up the sides of your neck, not too hard, but enough that you’re probably getting a little dizzy while he continues to fuck into you. Does it hurt? Your face is turning pink. Uh-uh-uh, don’t try to pull his hand off, or he’ll show you just how good he is with his quirk these days.
You’re trying to choke out the words but you can’t quite make them make sense. There’s something endearing about the way your whimpers vibrate through the skin of Dabi’s palm, how he can hear you as well as feeling you. Oh—could you say his name too? He knows you’re feeling all fucked-out and wet and sloppy, every moan rising and falling in time with his cock stretching your pussy open, but can’t you give it a little more effort? He’s sure you can get his name out if you really try.
And if you’re not going to cooperate, Dabi may as well just dig the heel of his knuckle into your windpipe, because you really do tighten up so deliciously when you cough and sputter like that. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he’s going to cum, gonna cum right here in your syrupy pussy and spill it all over your marriage bed—but no, he wants to hear you say it first, so when you’re gagging and turning red and your eyes are watering he finally stops choking you, loosening his grip just enough that his hand is resting on your neck in a lover’s touch. It takes you a second and your voice is so hoarse he can barely hear it, but then you’re speaking and something jumps in his chest—
“I…I love—love y-you, Touya!” you sob. “I love you! I—love you, Touya—Touya—Touya—!”
And ah fuck it’s almost exactly right, your voice saying you love him, saying his real name, a name he hasn’t heard for years because you’re the only one who really knows it anymore—but you’re crying, real heavy sobs while you gulp in frantic lungfuls of oxygen. Your ribcage is heaving underneath him and—god, fuck—your guts are clenching, sucking down on every inch of his cock, every vein—
—oh shit fuck fuck he’s cumming, and he presses his face into your neck, into your hair, kissing you and thinking I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—
—please stay, forever.
///
When he’s done, he goes for another round just to make sure you’re going to have cum dripping down your thighs when you go back to the party. No panties, unless you want him to walk through the grand foyer with all the other guests on his way out.
You don’t look at him as you fix your dress and your hair and wipe at your smeared makeup. With your eyeliner rubbed down to the bottom of your eyes, Dabi’s reminded a little of how you used to look—and the reminder is doubled when you slide your legs across the side of the bed and limp over to your vanity, walking hesitantly, your hips rocking from side to side. Damn, did he fuck you that hard?
Reminds him of the old days, you shuffling back to the hideout with that same awkward pain in your gait, purple marks around your neck, and a dim smile decorating your face—for his sake. Oh, and cash in your pockets. You’d tell him that the two of you were going out to eat that night and refuse to let him look at the injuries. God, it made him angry, it still makes him angry just thinking about it—angry at the men who bought you for treating you like that, angry at you for letting them. Angry at himself for not being old enough or strong enough or rich enough to stop them.
Anger, yes…and other things too. There had been a sick, insidious part of him that wanted to be in their position. He’d hated himself for it back then, until you left and the desire to punish you for abandoning him got twisted up with the desire to own you and keep you his. Maybe if he let himself think about it, he’d still hate himself for what he’s doing to you.
By now, you’re too good at covering up the bruises. A sweep of foundation and powder passes over each hickey he left on your throat and it’s like he never touched you. You have to push him off the bed so you can strip the sheets and replace them. When you’re done, you tell him to wait a few minutes after you leave to sneak out the back and he makes another half-joke about joining the party and introducing himself to your old man—
—and you shove him up against the wall with all the strength left in you, wrap your hand around his neck, and dig your fingernails under the line of piercings in his cheek. If he even looks at your husband, if he even thinks about it, you’ll rip his goddamn face open, you tell him in a low snarl.
It’s an empty threat (you and he both know who would win in a physical altercation) but there’s real hatred behind it. Dabi hasn’t seen that kind of fire in your eyes since he found out you became a trophy wife. It makes him want to have you again so he does, pulling your arms away from his face, standing and holding you up against the door to your bedroom, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him to keep from falling.
He’s lubed up by his own cum, and the wet squelching of your pussy just reminds him what a mess you’re going to be when you return to high society tonight. Maybe your husband will be able to smell it on you—the cum, the sex, the other man who’s been keeping his darling wife warm while he’s at work.
Well, probably not. If that stupid fucking cuckold hasn’t figured it out by now, there’s not much of a chance he’ll get it on his own. As Dabi sinks into your tight, gummy cunt again, he decides that he might just have to help the process along. A man deserves to know if his wife is being unfaithful, right?
///
Your husband’s office phone number is written on a post-it note that’s tacked to the desk of his study. It takes Dabi 40 minutes and $30 to buy a burner cell phone, leave a message on the man’s voicemail, and toss the burner in the kitchen trash at your house while you’re in the shower.
The message is short and straightforward. Dabi introduces himself as ‘the man who’s sleeping with your wife’, describes the floor plan of your husband’s house and what position he fucked you in for each room, and finally finishes it off with the evidence—the precise size and location of every hickey he’s left on your body that will still be visible by the time your husband returns from work.
Dabi almost wishes your husband had picked up the call—he’d’ve had a good time explaining in pornographic detail the way your tits look under those too-formal dresses, the way you moan when you cum in his mouth, the way you told him you loved him while he choked you out—with your husband in the house, no less. But this is fine too.
Besides, it’ll be so fucking funny if someone else at your husband’s company hears the message before he does.
///
Whore. Your husband called you a whore.
You’ve been called a whore a lot, actually. More than most people. You should be used to it by now. But it’s different when your husband says it. Your husband, the man who rescued you from a life of poverty and starvation, the man who has given you everything you own, the man who slid a ring onto your finger under a wedding arch and promised to love you in good times and in bad. The man you’ve almost convinced yourself you love back.
He called you a whore and slapped you when you tried to explain yourself and shoved you out the door and locked it. You can still hear his voice telling you the only place he wants to see your face again is in a casket.
So that’s why when Dabi comes to collect you, you’re hugging your knees to your chest on your front porch in your shiny lace-edged slip nightdress, hair in a mess around your head and your lip bleeding onto your chin. Your feet are so cold—your husband didn’t even give you time to put shoes on before he threw you out.
The night is cool and dark but the porch light buzzes on for half a minute when Dabi climbs up the steps to come crouch next to you on the doorstep. You try not to look at him, but he tilts your face toward his, electric-blue eyes skimming over the red mark and blue-black discoloration blossoming across your cheekbone; the blood drying on your split lip.
Dabi asks calmly if your husband hit you, and you nod.
Good, he tells you, and his body lights up blue in a roiling cloud of flames. He’s been waiting for an excuse to kill that old fuck.
The fire is like lightning, bright and ghostly in the darkness. The crackling of the flame eats away at the heavy silence of the night and you crawl back from the dry heat of it, sure you can feel your eyebrows singeing from being near. Dabi looks different backed by the inferno—bigger, crueler. Frightening. He reaches at the door but you shout at him to stop.
Why? Don’t you think he should suffer, after what he did to you?
But your fists clench by your sides and you set your teeth and you tell Dabi that if he’s going to kill your husband, he may as well set himself on fire too, because it’s his fault in the first place. And he’s done a lot worse to you than one slap.
Dabi waits a moment, searching your alarmed expression for something, but whatever he’s hoping for you don’t give him and the flames go out. The air smells like smoke and his hands are hot—not burning, but uncomfortably hot—when he kneels in front of you and rubs a thumb over your bruised cheek.
“(Y/N)—” Dabi starts, and then he can’t find a way to finish. So he just gathers you up in his arms and carries you bridal-style down into the lawn and to the driveway, where he’s got a car waiting to take you guys back to his place. You don’t resist, which surprises him again. He thought you’d push away at him, scream, get angry—he thought he’d have to convince you. Or force you, like he usually does. But you just let him deposit you in the seat next to the driver’s.
Before he gets in, he asks you if you need anything from your house. He can go get it for you. See if any balding motherfucker in his forties can stop him. But you just shake your head.
“There’s nothing,” you say blankly. “I have nothing. I…have nothing.”
Just like back then.
“Not nothing,” Dabi tells you, turning forward to the road so you can’t see the look on his face. “You have me.”
///
In the end, he does understand. He understood it the second he held that goodbye note in his hands and knew you were lost to him.
You were 17 when you met him and 19 when you left—hardly older than a child yourself. You barely had enough to provide for your own needs, much less a teenage boy’s. By the time you left, Dabi was more than capable of surviving on his own and already falling into ugly crowds, gangs and syndicates who saw money in his quirk, people you’d sacrificed a lot to keep him away from. He no longer needed you, and it was time for you two to go your separate ways. Dabi understands that.
But now you need him. Just like you needed him when you were fucking strangers for food money; like you needed him when you ran away; like you needed him when you got trapped in this mundane, sparkling-clean life, a life that was never going to fit you. Only this time—this time, Dabi’s old enough for you. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. He’s got an apartment and a good job (well, kind of) and he’s got money. He can provide for you the way you’ve always needed him to.
Dabi’s going to take care of you, and you’re never, ever going to leave.
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etherrreal · 3 years
Text
“when you pass out at practice”
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Pairing: tsukishima x reader ; kyotani x reader ; aone x reader Genre: comfort-fluff ; drabbles & headcanons Summary: the reader hasn’t been taking care of herself which leads to her passing out at practice  Word Count: 2295 Warnings: fainting, or passing out, from sleep deprivation/not eating/heat exhaustion, some explicit language because i’m an adult A/N: thanks for the fun request! i took a little bit of artistic liberties with the scenario to keep it from being so repetitive so I hope you don’t mind! -Luna
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it was rare that you had a beautiful sunny day on a weekend with no chores to attend to or work to complete
so when your boyfriend Tsukishima texted you and asked you to come join him for casual volleyball practice outside, you decided to take him up on that opportunity
however, not even a cap and some cold water could stave off heat exhaustion
Despite it being 95°F and so humid that the air feels thick when you breathe, it is a beautiful day outside. The sky is completely clear of clouds; the sun is shining directly on you as you, your boyfriend, and Yamaguchi head out to practice at the open field nearby Karasuno. The change of scenery was refreshing and even with it feeling just as hot as it usually does inside the school gym, the occasional breeze and lack of sweaty stench was a huge welcomed change. 
There’s very little shade provided by the trees, but you lay out a small blanket under the nearest one anyway. You become the bag and bottle keeper when Tsukishima and Yamaguchi hand you their items, your boyfriend dropping it haphazardly onto the blanket while Yamaguchi delicately places it down with a ‘thank you.’ 
You usually don’t get to see Tsukishima practice, seeing as his normal practices run until the dead of night, so it was fun watching them set and serve the ball back and forth. When the occasional ball lands by your feet, you get the chance to enjoy setting it back to them, even if it often falls short or misses the target completely. 
“Thank god you’re not on our team,” Tsukishima teases, as he watches the ball you set fall 6 feet away from him.
“Yeah, because I’d kick your ass. I know I’m a threat, and you should fear me,” you retort sarcastically. Before he turns away to retrieve the ball, you see him crack a small smile at your tomfoolery. 
However, after a few hours of getting up and down repeatedly to send the balls back under the beating sun, your head starts to pound. Your body is radiating so much heat it makes you want to remove your skin. You know it’s just a matter of time before you start feeling physically ill, as well. You loosen your cap and drink some cold water in hopes that it will relieve some of the tension, but you just feel the same.
You decide to lay down on the blanket, cap laid over your face to block out the sun. You don’t know if you passed out or if you simply tuned out everything around you for a bit, but you jump when you suddenly feel something wet and cold touching your neck.
You reach up to swat it away, thinking it was a bug when you hear Tsukishima’s voice. “Stop that. I’m trying to help you, dummy.” 
Relief washed over you to know that it wasn’t a beetle crawling up your neck but instead your stoic boyfriend pressing his plastic water bottle there to cool you down.
“Yamaguchi thought you died,” he brought up suddenly. “He actually ran to the store to get some more water after I told him to stop overreacting.”
You chuckle, picturing Yamaguchi already mourning over your body just because you were lying down with a cap over your face. “It’s sweet that he cares though, in his own weird way.”
Suddenly, the sky and Tsukishima’s crouching figure are in full view as he flicks the hat off of your face, feeling annoyed that you praised his friend and not him. “What do you think I’m doing, huh?” 
“Aww, do you want me to tell you how you’re the bestest, sweetest, most handsome boyfriend I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and that I’m so grateful that you’ve graced me with your help?” you whine in a sarcastic tone, making grabby hands at the tall blond hovering over you.
He slaps your hands away, knowing that if you get your hands on him, you’d squeeze his cheeks and ruffle his hair like you always do. “Well, that’s the last time I ever take care of you.” 
You know he doesn’t mean it and that, if you were ever in some form of peril, he would casually stroll rush to your rescue to make sure you’re okay. You hope that when you look up at him he can see how much you appreciate his efforts.
“Thank you, Kei,” you say sincerely.
“Yeah, whatever.” He sounds dismissive, but you can tell by the scrunched eyebrows and soft look in his eyes as he gazes down at you how much he worries about your well-being, and you’re genuinely grateful to have him be your unofficial nurse. 
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you heard from some classmates that your math teacher was seen printing out math quizzes
*cue studious panic*
 you decided to completely skip lunch and use that time in the library to hit the books hard
your stomach was rumbling, your head was hurting, and your vision would become spotty if you stood up too quickly
you completed your quiz at the end of the day, but by then, you were starving and ready to get something to eat
in your panic, you forgot that you were supposed to meet kyotani after school so you could force him to go to practice that day (or else Iwaizumi would have your ass)
he heard your stomach make monstrous noises and when you let him know you hadn’t eaten, he looked more upset than usual to see you not taking care of yourself
“Let’s skip practice and get some food,” he suggests.
“What? So you can skip out on one of the few practices you go to? Absolutely not!” you reprimand.
“But you need to eat.”
“Look at you being a sweet boyfriend who cares,” you tease, watching him roll his eyes like he’s annoyed, but the pink hue dusting his cheeks says otherwise. “I’ll be fine. I should have an extra granola bar in my bag somewhere.” 
"Whatever, if you say so." He turns his body diagonally, a gesture you know means 'walk with me.' Kyotani has never been keen on PDA, but one thing you have noticed is that he prefers for you to walk directly by his side at all times. To others, it may look like he’s uninterested in you, but you can tell by how often his arm brushes yours that it’s his way of showing affection. 
You stroll across campus together, enjoying a quiet conversation with Kyotani about your day thus far. It doesn’t take long for you to reach the gym entrance, already hearing the balls slamming against the ground inside. You both switch out your shoes before walking in, him going to join his teammates and you finding a seat on the sidelines, seeing Iwaizumi give you a thumbs up for your job well done. 
You take a moment to search through your bag for that granola bar you mentioned earlier. After sifting through books, loose notes, and forgotten pencils and pens, you realize you have no snack to tide you over until the end of practice. 
The market is just down the road. I could probably go pick something up and be back quickly.
You wave Iwaizumi over, figuring you’ll tell him your plans while Kyotani is distracted so he won’t follow you out. You see his back turned to you as Oikawa speaks to the rest of the team, gesturing wildly with a volleyball in hand. 
As Iwaizumi gets closer, you stand up and immediately begin to sway. Your vision grows spotted, and your head feels like it’s floating. 
You hear Kyotani yell out your name before everything goes black.
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When you wake up, the lights are beaming overhead as you lay in some sort of bed. Once you’re coherent enough, you sit up, looking around to see that you’re in the school nurse’s office. You pick up your hand to hold your still aching head when you notice a very angry Kyotani attached to it, already glaring at you.
Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, not quite knowing what to say after you just passed out in the middle of practice.
"I told you that we should've gotten something to eat," he starts, growling out each word.
You shrink into yourself, feeling embarrassed that you've upset him and couldn’t even take care of yourself properly. "I'm sorry, Kentaro.”
He notices you plucking the lint off your shirt to avoid direct eye contact with him. His eyes close as he collects himself, realizing that now’s not the time to lecture you for something you couldn’t have predicted.
He sighs, standing up slightly to lean over your slumped figure, laying a kiss on your temple. He mumbles a quiet apology against your skin, feeling bad for snapping at you when he should’ve been more kind. He’s working on that, slowly but surely.
“Let’s go get something to eat,” he says, holding your hand while you stand slowly from the bed. You wobble slightly, Kyotani quickly wrapping his arm around your waist to stabilize you. You give him a nod when you’re firmly on your two feet.
“From now on, if you’re hungry, tell me.”
You agreed reluctantly, not exactly wanting him to worry so much but knowing he wouldn’t let you leave without your compliance. 
From then on, he always makes sure to check on you to check if you've eaten or if you need one of the many granola bars he now carries, and while sometimes it's annoying to have him acting like a mother hen, it's also very heartwarming to know that he cares about you that much. Not to mention, he’s saved your ass many times when you have to study overtime for another intense math quiz. 
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the end of the semester was coming to a close and you were scrambling to get everything done on time
there weren't enough hours in the day to study for finals, finish projects, complete homework, and also take care of your human needs, like eating and sleeping
so, you just didn't sleep one night, opting to stay up with some caffeine to power through all of your work
at the beginning of the next day, you felt energetic and peppy, but as it went on, the sluggish feeling started to settle in
by the end, you were feeling absolutely exhausted and ready to drop at any moment
however, you still wanted to accompany Aone to practice that day, as it was your favorite part of your week
aone initially insisted that you head home without him, but he realized it might be safer to go with him after practice, just in case you fell asleep on the train
It feels like it takes ages, but eventually, practice begins to wind down, soreness seeping into each and every team member’s muscles after hours on their feet. A few of them are still practicing quick attacks with each other, but Aone is one more move away from passing out from exhaustion.
He walks over to you sitting on the sidelines, watching you take longer and longer between each blink. Yet, when he gets close enough, you still manage to give him a small smile that kicks his heart into overdrive, his face, no doubt, resembling a tomato because of the gesture.
He sits on the creaky folding chair beside you, taking gulps of his water to try to cool himself down. He almost chokes when he feels your head press up against his shoulder, hand resting on his forearm gently. Sitting still as a rock, he tries to take his mind off his cute partner cuddling up next to him.
"We should stop somewhere and pick up some food on the way to the train,” he suggests, doing his best to ignore the warmth filling his cheeks. “Do you want anything specific?"
You're silent beside him. At first, he thinks you're contemplating what to eat, seeing as you're very particular with your cravings. But when two minutes pass, and there's not even a peep from you, he looks down carefully to find you knocked out against his shoulder, face squished uncomfortably and mouth parting with each deep breath you take.
Aone never pictured this happening to him –mostly because he didn't think he'd ever have a partner who'd feel comfortable enough around him– so he didn't quite know where to go from here. He could wake you up to at least bring you home, but if this is the first time you've slept in over 24 hours, he didn't want to deprive you of more necessary sleep.
The only way Aone can think of bringing you home is to carry you all the way to the train station and... Well, that's as far as he manages to get, but future Aone will figure the rest out.
He asks Futakuchi to gather his things for him because he doesn't want to risk waking you. After some light teasing, he hands Aone his packed duffle and helps put on his jacket with minimal stirring from you.
Aone thanks his friend with a nod before turning to you and slipping his arms under you, one beneath your knees and the other behind your back. He freezes when you begin shifting around, but relaxes once you settle into him.
Aone waves at his team on the way out, with what movement he is allowed, and begins his trek to the train station nearby. 
His arms are aching after hours of practice, but it doesn’t matter, because you nuzzling into his neck with an adorable sigh gives him enough strength to carry you halfway across the country if he needs to. 
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Written by: Luna
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dessarious · 3 years
Text
How the Sirens Adopted a Ladybug Pt6
AO3  Beginning   Previous   Next
Ladybug continued to cling to Chloe and the other girl seemed both grateful and slightly panicked. “You’re welcome? It’s the least I could do after everything. If you give me a list, I can make sure it’s stocked with food for all the Kwami as well.”
“Here you go bee.”
“Plagg!” The Kwami had once again just appeared, this time with a piece of paper to shove at the girl.
“What? She asked!”
“If you don’t stop popping out like this, I’m going to renounce you. I have enough stress without wondering if you feel chatty at any given moment.” Ladybug had pulled back and began rubbing her forehead. Whether it was just annoyance or she had a headache was anyone’s guess. Chloe took the paper gingerly, eyeing the Kwami like he was going to explode. So apparently Ivy wasn’t the only one wary around the creatures.
“I’ll get everything this afternoon.” She was frowning at some of the items and Selina could relate. It was a very mixed bag. “Why does it say ‘no shellfish’ at the bottom?” Ladybug let out an aggravated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Damnit Plagg, have you lost your mind?” The Kwami just ignored her.
“The kid has an allergy. Best to not chance it.”
“Huh, that’s weird. Marinette is allergic to shellfish too. Guess it’s more common than I thought.” Ladybug’s eye twitched and Selina could feel something poking at the back of her mind, trying to get her to focus on what was being said. Her thoughts felt oddly sluggish.
“Yeah, weird. How do you know Marinette is allergic?”
“I was the class rep before Marinette. Allergies were one of the big things to take into account when planning events. Not to mention my father has always stressed the need to know both your constituents and opponents. I have dossiers on everyone in the school.” Ladybug’s lips twitched upwards but didn’t quite make it to a smile.
“I’m more surprised by that than I should be. I assume that you’re the reason I haven’t seen Lila for the last few months?” Chloe winced and nodded.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do anything about her earlier.”
“The adults in charge should have done something, not you.”
“Maybe, but I could have stopped this and didn’t. Just like Adrien, I ignored her because she wasn’t my problem. Just like Adrien, I could never see past what I wanted when given the opportunity to wield a Miraculous. I… I never really understood why you hated me so much until I saw how Adrien acted after he lost his ring.”
“I never hated you Chloe, I just couldn't trust you. But at least with you I knew the risks. The others… I didn’t know until it was too late.” The last seemed directed at herself rather than Chloe. Selina was so busy trying to read Chloe’s body language that she didn’t notice Ladybug swaying until it was too late. Chloe caught her as she fell and they all watched as the hero detransformed. Selina ran towards them before she could think it through, and could hear the others behind her.
“Tikki, what happened?” Chloe was staring at the girl in shock, not even noticing their approach.
“The transformation was taking too much of her energy. I had to drop it before it harmed her irreversibly.” Both Tikki and Plagg were hovering over the girl. “She can not transform again until she’s recovered.”
“What do we do if there’s another Akuma? Hawkmoth hasn’t been letting up lately. It’s… it’s like he’s trying to cause this.” The last was said in an almost horrified whisper.
“That’s exactly what he’s doing. Unfortunately right now we’re more concerned with you knowing who she is.” Plagg had flown directly into Chloe’s face and was scowling at her. She just hugged the girl tighter.
“I won’t tell anyone. I meant what I said about helping her. Both of her.” Suddenly the pieces of their earlier conversation clicked together in Selina’s mind.
“Hang on, this is the girl you were talking about? The one who’s been missing?” That finally caused Chloe to look up at them.
“Who the hell are you?” She caught sight of Ivy and set the other girl down to step between them. “And what the hell are you?” Selina could admire her spirit at least. The girl didn’t stand a chance against them but it was apparent that she wasn’t backing down.
“We’re friends and we’re here to help.” She looked ready to argue but Tikki spoke up.
“They’re telling the truth. They’ve been nothing but supportive so far and if that changes, Plagg and I will handle it. Right now we need to get Mari back to your hotel so she can rest. Then we need to discuss what to do when an Akuma shows up while she’s still recuperating.” Chloe didn’t look happy with it but she did nod.
“I’m not entirely sure how to get us all in there undetected. I have a feeling you three don’t really want to be noticed and I certainly don’t want to cause a scene bringing Mari in like this. Bringing attention to ourselves will only cause problems.” Well she was certainly right about that. Selina shared a look with the other two but both just shrugged at her. Before she could suggest anything Tikki and Plagg started whispering together before Plagg flew back to Chloe.
“Can I trust you to use a Miraculous to get where you need to go and then give it back?”
“Yes, I’ll do whatever you need me to.” Plagg continued to study the girl but Tikki Flew into Marinette’s bag and returned with a pair of glasses. Chloe looked sad for a moment but her determination overrode it as Tikki started whispering in her ear. As soon as they finished Chloe put on the glasses and muttered something, causing another flash of light. When it faded Selina wasn’t sure what she was looking at. The outfit was definitely horse themed but at the same time she couldn’t really explain why it was. The suit was a deep reddish brown but everything else about it felt unsettling. Her hair was in a braid but seemed to be attached down her back because it didn’t move. The suit itself wasn’t skin tight but moved with her body as if it were. The longer Selina stared at it the more uncomfortable she felt. She blamed that for why she didn’t notice the swords crossed on the girls back until one was at her throat. “I’ll only give you one warning. Marinette has already been betrayed by everyone around her, minus her family, and I won’t hesitate to do what is necessary to keep you from doing the same.”
“Everyone including you?” Selina expected her to flinch but her gaze just hardened.
“Especially me. I tormented her and took advantage of her forgiveness more times than I can count. I know very well I do not have the moral high ground so don’t expect me to act like a hero.” Selina felt the blade make contact and couldn’t help the grin that appeared.
“Oh I like you. This should be fun.” Chloe slowly lowered the weapon. She tried to hide her confusion behind annoyance but Selina saw it before the girl turned to pick up Marinette. She heard Ivy suck in a sharp breath when a portal appeared out of nowhere.
“Well, are you coming or not?” She stepped through the opening without giving them time to respond. Selina debated for a fraction of a second before following, even as Ivy started cursing under her breath. The chances that Chloe would leave them behind if they weren’t fast enough were high, and she had a very bad feeling at the thought of being separated from Marinette. Her instincts had kept her alive this long, she wasn’t about to discount them now.
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gyusbambi · 3 years
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humph; han seojun (pt 4)
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5
click here for humph masterlist!
story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au
synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?
note: humph! is a story inspired by pentagon’s “humph! / 접근금지”. originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 3.8k
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to claim that the cupid-team is surprised to witness han seojun getting along with his long term frenemy would be an absolute understatement. in fact, they seem completely and utterly dumbfounded as they watch you both laugh at a joke seojun pulled in the middle of the bus ride back home. needless to say, the childhood friends tease each other now and then like they’re used to it, this time without hurting any feelings. all of these observations, including the fact that you decided to sit next to each other in the bus, lead to several assumptions and without you knowing, rumors start to develop. 
for whatever reason, neither you nor seojun are aware of the gossip regarding both of you. perhaps it’s thanks to kim chorong, who’s apparently really skilled at being inconspicuous. 
_
it’s been one day since you arrived home and you find yourself sleeping in till two pm on a saturday. 
seriously, you should fix your chaotic sleeping schedule.
when you finally leave your room to get some food into your stomach, dressed in your favorite hoodie and sweatpants, your mum and juyeong are already eating lunch. like expected, they give you a quick judging look without interrupting their conversation. while you’re putting some rice in a bowl they talk about juyeong’s crush on some girl. soon their conversation moves to something related to seojun, and that's when you suddenly pay attention instead of playing with the cold food on your plate.
"y/n, is seojun’s mother in a better condition now?"
instantly you look up to react to your mum’s question. instead of looking at you, she puts more vegetables on juyeong’s table,
"it's been a few days since i last visited her, maybe i should do it again soon. i really hope she gets better."
"what are you talking about?"
"seojun hyung's mum is in hospital." juyeong answers, his mouth stuffed with food while pushing the vegetables away with a scrunched face.
"what?"
"hasn't he told you about his mum? i thought you guys would tell each other everything." my mum questioned with a small pout forming on her lips, finally meeting your worried eyes.
"they broke up.", your annoying brother fails the attempt to whisper.
"we're not together!"
displeased, you hiss at your brother, voice getting higher.
"you guys act like a married couple sometimes. it's annoying."
"shut up!"
"both of you stop now." your mother sighs while her hands move in the air in attempt to stop you from attacking your own brother.
"seojun’s mum is seriously sick and i'm going to visit her tomorrow morning. y/n, maybe you should do too? or talk to him a little since he's probably not doing so well."
"i will."
feeling upset that you’re just finding out about seojun’s mother’s condition, you can’t stop thinking about it for the whole day. besides that, you are worried and consider visiting them the next day.
even though their house is quite near to yours, you have to go through the dangerous part of your quarter. as you make your way to the han’s, your hand moves to your right pocket to grab the pocketknife, which seojun gifted you in your freshman year of high school. for defense reasons, he said.
"you need to be careful when you're walking down this street. here, have this."
however, instead of seeing a group of dangerous men, you spot han seojun himself, walking towards your direction with hands in his pocket. thinking of a casual way of greeting him, you clear your throat before taking a few steps forwards in order to greet him,
"hey!”
"hey, what are you doing here?"
surprised to see you in this area, seojun raises his eyebrows.
"well, i actually wanted to visit- what the hell happened to your face?"
rapidly, you interrupt yourself when the boy is finally close enough for you to spot the multiple bruises on his pale skin. this causes you take a few steps forward and reach for his cheek instantly, worry written all over your face.
he looks horrible. bruises all over his face, lip bleeding, knuckles visibly red.
seojun catches glimpse of your worried eyes and feels embarrassed for you to find him at this state. instead of making the attempt to explain the situation, he grabs your hand which rests on his cheek. the touch of your warm and soft hand causes a pressure building in this chest. seojun doesn’t dare to take his eyes off of yours.
suddenly your cheeks feel like they’re turning into the shade of a tomato. besides that, your heart starts acting all weird when you catch glimpse of his intense eyes.
"what happened?" you question once again, this time with even more concern.
"it's not important-"
"did you get into a fight?"
"that bastard lee seungyong was getting on my nerves again, it's not important." he sighs after running his hand through his hair.
"alright. come on, we need to clean those bruises before they get worse." you mutter after grabbing his right arm and pulling him towards your house.
_
seojun hisses with a painful expression as you attempt to clean the awful wounds on his cheeks. with a concentrated look crossing over your face, you focus on the terrible cut. however, you impatiently drop your hand on your lap when seojun can’t seem to stop moving, an annoyed sigh followed after. 
“could you stop moving the whole time? i’m trying to do something here.”,
positioning yourself closer to the boy sitting on the edge of your bed, you’re ready to treat his wounds for the third time. seojun only grins playfully despite the painful bruises,
“look at you acting like a doctor.”
ignoring his comment, you raise your hand once again to reach for his chin. fingers brushing on his skin, you are able to focus. this time seojun doesn’t flinch. quite the contrary, he’s like frozen on spot. the only thing he seems to be able to focus on are your features. 
nothing but silence dominates your room as you decide to clean the cut on his bottom lip. you fingers brushing over his soft lip, eyes completely focused on them, the poor boy’s heart is about to explode in front of you. he internally thanks to god that you don’t notice his chest rising up and down or his ears turning into a darker shade of red. breath taken away, his eyes linger on your lips, blinking frequently.
yet, his relief only lasts for a couple seconds when the silence eventually makes you look up to seojun, only to find him already staring at you, eyes gazing at your lips.
not aware of your slightly surprised eyes, he continues staring. clearly, your bodies are almost attached to each other. not to mention, you leaned in a little earlier, grip on his shoulder to prevent him from moving. the young boy practically prays that you won’t hear his heart racing in his chest.
aren’t you even a little nervous? it almost makes him annoyed how the closeness doesn’t seem to bother you at all.
little does he know that you feel the exact same way. in fact, you’re so bothered by the butterflies in your stomach that you suddenly wish that he would just continue making dumb jokes or rude comments.
pulling your hand away from his shoulder in a swift move, you blink. still, you’re not able to look away which seems so stupid and unbelievably odd. 
seconds after you catch glimpse of his hand getting closer to yours but that isn’t enough for you to look away.
why would someone look attractive with a beaten face? that doesn't make any sense.
seeing him in this state, bruises, messy hair, intense gaze, flushed face, makes you want to hug him, ask him what was wrong, tell him you were here for him.
however, right when you think he is going to say something or reach for your hand and hold it...
"guess who just ate two big delicious menus-"
juyeong.
the second your brother lays eyes on seojun sitting super close to you, his eyes widen in horror.
"o-oh adult business, i get it. i'll leave now. bye, hyung!"
yet, of course, before leaving your room he doesn’t miss the chance to make gagging noises.
"and y/n, sadly, there wasn't enough food for you."
his fake pout makes you want to throw your slipper at him but you just close your eyes for a second and exhale, trying to remain calm.
seojun only chuckles with amusement.
"mum! y/n and seojun hyung are a couple again. can she move out now?"
juyeong’s annoying voice can be heard all the way too my room. embarrassed, you glance at seojun, who is obviously trying to hold in his laugh.
"i'm sorry for my brother."
"you don't need to be."
"a-anyways, are you better now? i mean your bruises?" you stammer while pointing at his face, wanting to ignore what just happened.
"yeah, a lot better. thank you."
he trails off, eyes darting through the room,
"i-i should probably leave now."
right, your stupid self forgot to ask him about his mum.
"i heard about your mum. i hope she's doing better?"
“thankfully, she is. it's a little difficult for us but we’re going through this."
“hopefully she’ll feel better soon. i’m sure you’re taking good care of her,”
you’re always like that. caring about others more than yourself.
“if you need anything, i’m here.”
he smiles genuinely, “thank you.“
and that's when he leaves.
_
the sun shines outside the next day. but instead of going out and enjoying the nice weather like other normal people, you lay on your bed while thinking about the previous day. strangely, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way seojun made you feel. 
why did your heart race? why were you left speechless?
in the corner of your mind, there’s been an explanation for your weird feelings for your childhood friend. although, you’ve always tried to ignore it and distract yourself.
but now, thinking about all the times seojun made your heart flutter, it just made sense.
you like him.
“no!”
with widen eyes you swiftly stand up, not believing yourself.
it couldn’t be, right? everyone feels this way to their friend at some point of their friendship, no?
but the thing is: you’ve been feeling like this the whole time. 
letting yourself fall on your bed, you scream into your pillow.
you like han seojun.
and there’s no way your former frenemy likes you back.
_
it’s another school morning as you walk into your class. this time however, you’re nervous to enter the room. after all, you’ll have to be around the one person you now feel nervous talking to. what if he notices your odd behavior. praying that he won’t approach you in a way that made your heart flutter, you eventually enter the classroom.
however, it seems like the universe is making fun of you when you’re met with something hundred times worse the moment you step into the room. instantly, all eyes land on you and all you hear are cheers and screams from your classmates,
“congratulations on dating, y/n and seojun!”
“you’re so cute together!”
“y/n and seojun sitting on a tree!”
at the sight of chorong and his group wearing t-shirts with your shipname printed on them, your eyes widen in horror. they think you’re dating han seojun?!
“why didn’t you tell me anything? i’m your close friend after all!”
sua pouts, hitting your arm playfully while your eyes are still glued on the ridiculous t-shirts.
“is it true, y/n?”,
from the corner of your eye you see soojin giving you a teasing smile.
“listen, guys. there has been a huge misunderstanding.”,
when you can finally focus on your friends, who surround you with curious looks, han seojun enters the classroom, completely unaware of what’s happening right now.
the young boy frowns at chorong after setting his bag on his table. yet soon his confused face changes to a shocked one, as he eventually notices the t-shirts, everyone congratulating him with cheerful laughter.
turning his head to you, he notices your helpless look while you tilt your head to the side. totally surprised by everything, seojun has no clue how to act at the beginning. 
finally, both of you manage to stand in front of the class, facing your classmates as they continue asking several questions,
“since when have you been dating?”
“no way! did anything happen during the school trip?”
“tell us the truth!”
frustrated, you move your hands in the air, trying to speak with a loud tone so that everyone can understand you,
“i don’t know how you came up with this rumor but seojun and me are only friends, okay?”
hearing your statement, everyone groans at the same time, not believing you at all,
“it’s so obvious! just tell us the truth.”
letting out a sigh, you turn your head to face seojun with an annoyed look,
“could you at least say something?”
however, seojun only raises his eyebrows before taking his hands out of his pockets,
“would you hate it that much?”
his sentence makes you frown and multiple questions appear in your head. not quite understanding his point, you continue staring at him with furrowed eyebrows before he finally slams his hand on the desk in front of him, catching everyone’s attention,
“you guys better stop spreading all those rumors around. she’s only my friend...,”
disappointed, many students groan before going back to their seats while others still don’t seem to believe seojun and shake their heads in denial.
seojun bends down to your height so that his face is only a few inches apart from yours before whispering with one eyebrow raised,
“...right?”
nervously you blink, sadness starting to grow inside you after hearing his words. of course, he only considers you as his friend. there’s no way he would see you as something more.
_
friday nights are always the same for you: watching your current favorite tv show while snacking on whatever you have at home. whereas other people from your grade probably club somewhere.
that night your phone rings and an unknown number appears on the screen. thinking it’s a stupid prank, you pick it up with an annoyed sigh.
"hello?"
"hello. is this y/n?"
"yes. who am i talking to?"
there is a short silence before the unknown person starts talking again,
"look, i work at this club near your neighborhood and this dude randomly passed out here. i found your number on his phone so i thought of calling you. can you maybe come and get him? he's seriously wasted a– dude, what the hell, stop spilling all the drinks!"
"i'm sorry but who are you talking about?"
you heard the unknown man mumble before answering, "seojung? seung- seojun?"
"han seojun?"
"yes! that's his name."
a short silence takes over when you sit up in shock.
"so, are you coming?"
you sigh before replying, "i need the adress.”
_
the moment you enter that club, you want to return to your house. many people dance on the dance floor, totally wasted. everyone is pressing their bodies against each other's. the loud music makes you feel even more uncomfortable. you look around and let out a relieved sigh when you find a bartender with a phone on his hand.
"hello, i'm here for seojun. the guy who–"
"hey, finally! he's right here."
you follow the man to the other side of the club, where people are sitting on the couches and drinks were sold every minute. it doesn’t take you long to spot seojun sitting on the couch. his eyes are closed but his head is swinging from left to right. you can’t believe your eyes. you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen him in a state like this ever before.
"don't worry. your boyfriend didn't hook up with anyone." the bartender next to you said.
"he's not my boyfriend."
"what are you then?"
"i'm his..." you trail off before answering,
"neighbor! i’m his neighbor!"
seojun shouldn't know that you came to pick him up at this time.
without waiting any longer, you help seojun getting up and wrap his arm around your shoulder. before leaving the club, the bartender reaches you seojun’s phone and makes sure to call a taxi. after thanking him you leave with seojun’s heavy body.
while waiting for the taxi to arrive, seojun keeps rambling stupid things you can’t understand. it’s getting harder for you to stand with him by yourself every minute, so you decide to sit on the bench with him, which is a couple steps away from the bus station.
you let out an exhausted sigh after sitting down and then turn your head towards him. suddenly you grab his face and make him look at you. he smiles like an idiot after you brush his bangs away from his forehead. his cheeks are extremely red, his lips pouting slightly and his eyes struggling not to close. your cold hands hold his warm, soft cheeks while you analyze his expressions. you have to admit: seojun looks cute.
after a few seconds he suddenly frowns. he narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side slightly, looks you up and down considerately before asking,
"who are you?"
“you don't know who i am?"
"hmmm..." he rubs his chin carefully, acting like he’s solving a mystery,
"no."
"good."
"you're telling me that that's fine?" seojun giggles and covers his mouth.
"yes, absolutely."
"alright! i'm han seojun. who are you?" he stretches his hand out for you to shake.
"does that matter?”
“of course! who are you, young lady?”
"that's not important right now. what matters is that you're extremely drunk. what were you doing here?"
"you're rude!" he pouts and crosses his arms,
"you won't even tell me your name."
"why are you acting so childish?"
"i-i don't know."
"never mind. that's fine."
"really?!"
"yeah, you're good."
you notice how his lips form a small smile,
"you're nice and then rude and then nice and then- you remind me of someone you know?"
yes, that's you.
"my friend y/n."
"oh, really?" you sarcastically laugh.
"yeah! she's like you. but prettier. like so much prettier. she’s pretty."
"that doesn't even make sense."
"huh?" seojun asks confused.
oh no, why do you have to be so cute.
"actually, it’s hard for me to be her friend." suddenly he’s all sad,
"sometimes i cross the line and don’t know my limits. but she's so dumb and stubborn!"
"and why is that?” frowning, you cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting for his response. 
he only sighs with tiredness, "never mind–"
and then he falls asleep on your shoulder.
_
finally you arrive at seojun’s house and fortunately all the lights are out. with his heavy body pressing to your small one, you struggle to carry him up the stairs. quietly, the door is opened by you before seojun falls into his bed. your head starts hurting, which makes you sit down next to him and massage your temples. however, you help seojun standing up and carry him to the bathroom carefully, in order to wash his face. he lets you take off his jacket and his shoes. finally he lays down on his back, with his face facing the ceiling.
"don't lie on your back." you demand.
"hm?" seojun’s eyes are firmly closed when he mutters with tiredness.
"lie on your side." you pull his body to the side, so that he could face you.
definitely, his facials expressions change. his lips are no longer pouted, his eyes extremely tired, his cheeks pale. from analyzing his face once again, you fail to notice him staring at you with his eyebrows drawn together. soon his confused expression changes to a sad one when you cover his body with his bed sheets.
"i'm sorry." seojun mutters suddenly. you expect him to continue, as he grabs both of your hands and slightly pulls you closer to him. a shiver goes down your spine.
"y/n, you deserve better."
he knows it’s you? 
"i know i treated badly but i need you."
his eyes are barely opened, his words barely understandable. your hands start shivering as his grip tightens.
"i-i should go."
"no! please stay here." he rambles drunkly.
you decide to stay a little longer, just until he would fall asleep and hopefully forget everything that has happened this night.
“i mi..."
you aren’t able to understand his quiet mumbling, so you lean in a little,
“what did you say?"
“i miss y/n."
silence takes over the room before you finally reply,
“i missed you too, seojun-ah.”
your words make him open his eyes immediately. with a surprised face he tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes,
"y/n?"
instead of saying anything, you hold his hand while he’s still questioning your identity. all of the sudden his hands leave yours to grab your face. without waiting too long he pulls your face closer to his. instantly, your eyes widen when you notice the small gap between your noses. intensively, he looks into your eyes. so many emotions can be read from his look, yet you can’t figure out what he‘s feeling exactly. they have the most beautiful brown color you have ever seen. so deep, that you could get lost in them. only seconds pass, but it still feels like you were staring at each other for an eternity. you can even feel his soft breath on your face, which causes your ears to turn a dark shade of crimson.
seojun then glances at your lips before looking back into your eyes again. without waiting any longer he presses your lips together, one hand holding your cheek while the other grabs your waist. you let out a small gasp, your eyes remain closed, your whole body frozen. is this really happening?
when you’re finally able to kiss him back and hold firmly into his shoulders, he tilts your head, deepening the kiss. you feel your heart beating thousand times faster, almost exploding in your chest, as his soft lips press against yours. your face is glowing when you eventually wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, unable to resist the warm feeling. without doubt, you are sure that you've never felt something like this before.
seojun slowly pulls back when he feels your fingers softly tugging at his hair, leaving a small gap between your lips. you feel his breath on your face when he hums something before his lips meet yours for the second time, not giving you enough time to open your eyes,
“hmm, strawberries.”
feeling his lips forming a small smile, your heart is about to explode in your chest. seojun was insanly drunk but clearly enjoys the taste of strawberry lip balm, brushing his thumb over your cheek softly.
soon you break the kiss only to find seojun falling asleep on his bed seconds later. not believing what just happened you stare at him, admiring his features before panic takes over you and you rush out of his house.
would he remember any of this tomorrow?
_
to be continued...
(p.s: sorry for making you wait for so long🥺)
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Undercover- Mob! Steve Rogers Part 2
Okay here is the highly requested part two to my Mob! Steve post! I had some technical difficulties posting it but hopefully you guys see it in the tags now :)
Warnings: swearing and smut
Word count: 2.8k
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“When I said go undercover, I didn’t mean under his covers, Agent.” Director Fury slammed his hand down on his desk. It had now officially been twenty-four hours since your encounter with the mob boss and you had been waiting anxiously all day to talk with Nick Fury. The rumor around the office all day was that he wasn’t too pleased with how things went down.
“I did what I had to do, sir.” You stated boldly.
Fury scoffed but didn’t respond.
He was quiet for a moment, his eye scanning over the piece of paper in his hand. You fidgeted uncomfortably as your legs were still sore from your romp last night and you tried to hold it together as Fury gave you a weird look.
“Just sit down, Y/N.”
You muttered a thank you as you took a seat.
“Listen, this is all good and fine but I want more. This,” He waved the note in his hand. “Is just a drug felony. I want this bastard put away for life.”
“But what about Stark?”
“A slippery politician, nothing more. I want insight on just more than this. I want it all.”
You sat back in the chair. You understood where he was coming from, but he was also acting like you hadn’t just uncovered a huge piece of information.
“Sir-”
“Which is why you’re going to continue...seeing Rogers. Your undercover assignment has just been extended until further notice.”
“But, sir!” You stood up in protest.
“But nothing, Agent. You’ve made your bed and you’ve already lied in it. Now do it again.” He snapped.
“Are you pimping me out, sir?”
“You did that yourself, Y/N.” Fury snarked. “Anyway, as we speak I have other agents creating an entire new identity for you on the internet so when Roger’s does eventually look you up he’ll find everything we want him to find.”
You felt yourself sinking back down into the chair. He was being completely serious. You suddenly felt very hot as you processed all the information coming at you.
“And what exactly is it going to say?”
“That you are Y/N Monroe. You are the same age as you are now and a barista at the coffee shop just below your apartment. You went to the University of Minnesota and graduated with a business degree, but currently can’t find any jobs. Pity. Your parents died when you were young and you have no siblings-no need to wrap anyone else up in this. We’ve made an Instagram account since that seems to be the most popular app among adults your age. I pushed for no socials but apparently it’s weirder if you don’t have one.”
“Okay...but I don’t have a coffee shop below my apartment.”
“You do now. Your stuff is being moved into a safe house apartment on the other side of town. That’s where you’ll be staying for now. Don’t worry, I have Parker holed up in the apartment two doors down.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to try to calm down. There was nothing else you could do. Fury was right, you had made your bed. You reached over and grabbed the file that Fury had pushed towards the front of the desk. Your new life all put together in a Manila folder.
Damn you, Ma and your slutty advice.
“You can go now.” Fury waved you away, now totally focused on whatever file he had in front of him. You hesitated, wanting to say something but nothing came so you left.
“Y/N!” Peter ran up beside you as you stormed down the hallway. “Heard we’re gonna be neighbors.”
You smiled at how excited he was. “It’s only temporary, Parker. Don’t wet your pants.”
Peter blushed and gently shoved you to the side as you both continued walking. “I know that. But doesn’t mean it won’t be fun. We could have movie nights or something.”
“I suppose we could find some time.” You nudged him back.
“Oh here, before I forget.” Peter shoved a brand new iPhone into your hand. “Fury had me add some tweaks to the geo location so it’s more precise than what Apple has. My burner number is already programmed in there too.”
You studied the burner phone, impressed that they didn’t just give you another shitty tracfone like you were used to.
“Thanks, kid.”
“I’m not that much younger than you.” Peter grumbled as the two of you finally made it to the parking structure.
You smirked over your shoulder as you walked up to your Jeep Wrangler. “Young enough. ‘Night, kid!”
Peter flipped you off but was smiling the whole time as you drove off.
You punched in your new address in the GPS and followed along as it brought you to the older part of town. You had always loved this part of the city but never thought to move out here. Even though it wasn’t the new upcoming neighborhood, the rent prices had been driven up by the young kids moving in who just “adored the old time aesthetic” and the lofted buildings.
Your building was one of those you noted as you parked your car outside of your new address. The old brick building was tall, maybe six stories and had fire escapes littered across the front of it. The front door was a rusted green that you had to yank to budge to get open.
Extra security, I suppose. You laughed to yourself.
Your apartment was on the third floor and right off the freight elevator. You weren’t expecting much when you opened the door but you made a noise of pleasant surprise when you did.
The inside was warm and inviting. A plush gray sofa that resembled a cloud was center in your living room that you saw right away from the small entry hallway. As you stepped in further you saw a decent size tv mounted against the wall and two bookshelves on either side of it, filled with books and records that went along with the record player that was right underneath the television. To the left the living room was the kitchen. Nothing big, which you didn’t mind-you weren’t the best cook in the world. There was a small bar-like counter that had two barstools perched underneath. Down the small hallway you found your bedroom. A king sized bed covered in an off white comforter set with matching sheets. Small potted plants hung from the corner near the window and an array of makeup and perfumes littered the top of the wooden dresser.
Tentatively you opened the dressers to find a whole new wardrobe waiting for you. There were basics: such as t-shirts, jeans, bras and panties but there was also a whole drawer dedicated to skimpy lingerie that you knew was expensive. The walk-in closet was filled with dresses, some formal and some you wouldn’t let your grandmother even see hanging off the rack.
“Well done, Fury.” You mumbled to yourself as your fingers ran down the silk fabric of a long evening gown.
You were settling on to your couch, sweats on and a glass of wine in your hand when you heard a knock on the door. Slowly you got up, grabbing your gun from the plant next to the door. You looked through the peephole and let out a curse when you saw none other than Steve Rogers standing outside your apartment.
You shoved the gun back into the plant and ran your fingers through your hair before opening the door, but leaving the chain attached.
“Mr. Rogers, how can I help you?” Your eyes twinkled as the man in front of you rested his arm on the top of the door frame and leaned close to the opening you had created.
“You said I would see you soon, princess. Looks like soon is now.” The nickname again caused your stomach to flutter.
“I was just getting ready for bed. You’ll have to come by another time.” You feigned a yawn. Steve’s eyes blared as he stood up straight.
“It’s rude to keep your guests waiting, Miss Monroe.” Your heart jumped at the use of your alias. Thank god your team worked fast.
“And it’s rude to show up to people’s apartments unannounced, Mr. Rogers.”
“Open the door, sweetheart.” He hissed, but his eyes held anything but anger. He was intrigued. He never found a woman before who wasn’t afraid to dish back his sass. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.
“Say please.” You teased through the opening.
“Please.” He said through gritted teeth.
Chuckling you closed the door gently and undid the chain. Before you could reopen it though, Steve pushed his way through scooping you up in his arms as he did. You naturally wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms held tight around him as you squealed against his neck.
He walked you back into the living room and plopped down on the couch, holding you so you were still straddling him.
You pulled away but kept your arms hanging loosely around him. He smirked up at you as his fingers toyed with the hem of the tank top you had on. His eyes fell to the wine that was only half drank on your coffee table.
“Heading off to bed soon, huh?”
“My bedtime snack.”
There was a part of your brain that recognized him for who he was: evil. But another part of your brain saw him as the man who made your body feel things that it had never felt before and that had your heart racing like a schoolgirl with a crush. The part that recognized that he was so easy to talk and joke with. The great sex wasn’t a bummer either.
His smirk was replaced by a genuine smile as he pulled you down and gave you a kiss that had your toes curling. He moaned into your mouth as you slowly ground your hips against his, your fingers tugging at the hair by his neck. His tongue massaged yours, letting you know exactly who was in charge at this moment. His hands ran underneath your tank top, fingers tracing up your spine before reaching the front and giving your nipples a slight twist.
He moved his mouth from yours and peppered kisses along the side of your neck as he lifted the tank top over your head. He threw it to the side as his mouth attached to your protruding bud while his fingers pinched and toyed with the other one. Skillfully, and with his mouth still attached to you, Steve flipped you over so your back was on the couch and he was on top of you. He lifted his head, his blue eyes clouded with lust as he started kissing down from the center of your chest, down your stomach and down your legs as he pulled your sweats along with him.
He hummed as he spread your bottom lips apart with his fingers, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. You wiggled your hips against his face but he responded with a smack against your core.
“Honey, you gotta learn who’s in charge here and who’s-“ he kissed your clit ever so slightly, teasing you. “Just a little cock slut.”
His tongue circled over your bundle of nerves while fingers toyed with your slick. Gently he pushed two fingers into your pussy. Your eyes fluttered closed as his steady rhythm and flick of his tongue brought your orgasm to the forefront.
“Shit, Steve…” you whimpered, gripping his hair and pulling him close. “Oh fuck, I’m close!”
“Let me taste you, princess.” Steve growled. You nearly lost it at the sigh of your juices dripping from his chin. “Give it to me like the good girl you are.”
“Oh god!” You called out as he hit that spongy spot that caused your thighs to tighten around his head. Your body spasmed as it rode out your orgasm. Your chest heaving and your legs shaking as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. A moan was caught in your throat as you watched him put his soaked fingers between his lips, a look of pure satisfaction covering his perfect face.
Steve leaned his body over yours but careful not to let his full weight fall on you. He ran his nose up the side of your neck, along your cheek before letting it rub against your own. You grabbed his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. There was something so erotic about tasting yourself when your tongues met.
“Show me your bedroom?” Steve pulled away. You gave a weak nod. Steve stood up and hoisted you up, your legs weak beneath you.
“Poor baby.” He cooed in your ear. “Only one orgasm down and already can’t walk. I can’t imagine how you’ll be when I’m done with you.”
With that he lifted you and walked down your short hallway to the bedroom. In your hazy, post orgasm mind you hoped the mattress was comfy. You hadn’t even tested out beforehand.
Steve threw you on the bed and you sighed as you fell into the cloud. You leaned back on your elbows and watched as Steve unbuttoned the new shirt and trousers he had on. You stifled your laughter thinking about the wine stained ones back at his house.
“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards the end of the bed. He lifted your foot up, setting it over his shoulder as he kissed the inside of your calf.
“No, sir.” You teased.
“You’re a bad liar.” He nipped at your knee.
Not as bad as you might think.
Steve made you come at least four more times that night. Your body completely spent when he finally rolled over and laid next to you, yours and his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
You rolled over and threw your leg and arm over his body, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. Steve’s fingers toyed with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Spend the night?” You asked into the darkness. It was nearly three in the morning and your eyes were slowly closing no matter how much you willed them to stay open.
“I have some business things that I have to take care of early in the morning.” He answered, his fingers running up and down your arm.
“Oh, okay.” You said sadly. Steve’s chest rumbled with light laughter as he brought your hand that was in his up to his lips and gave it a kiss. You were soon realizing that he was actually a very affectionate person.
“But I want you to come back to the house tomorrow. I’ll send one of my guys for you in the afternoon.”
“Really?” You sat up. Steve blindly reached for your nightstand and turned on the lamp that was on it. His hair was tousled from the numerous times you had run your fingers through it and his lips were red and swollen. He looked like the epitome of sex and it was fucking hot.
“Yes, really.” He chuckled. He grabbed your phone that was on the nightstand and held it out for you to unlock. You did quickly and he took it back and started typing. “I don’t give out my personal number to a lot of people.”
“So I’m special.” You wiggled in your spot, a grin covering your face.
“Yes. You are.” Steve looked back at you and you were taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. He handed your phone back to you and you laughed at the name he had for his contact: Steve Rogers and an eggplant emoji.
“You’re a child.” You giggled.
Steve rolled his eyes and got out of bed and you took the time to appreciate his bum as he walked over to get his pants.
You gathered the soft sheets in your hand and brought them up to your chest. Although you weren’t sure what you were trying to hide, he had seen it all.
Once he was dressed and you slipped on a robe that you found hanging behind the door, you walked him out. He stood in your doorframe, his large figure making the space seem very small. He smiled as he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your head and leaned down and gave you a kiss.
“Make sure to lock all the doors behind me. And text me when you wake up tomorrow.” He demanded softly.
“Mmmkay, I will.” You said hazily.
“Go get some sleep, princess.” He laughed as he pushed away from the door and walked to the elevator. You watched as he got in and gave you a quick wave before whipping out his phone to make a call.
Once he was out of sight you closed the door softly, making sure to bolt everything before heading back to your bed. You were too tired to even clean up before you passed out.
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