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#gets painfully humiliated about things that do not matter
embraceyourdestiny · 2 years
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Me when someone accidentally uses the wrong version of a word that has multiple homophones: aw buddy it’s okay no big deal you’ll get it right next time
Me when I accidentally use the wrong homophone: you fucking IDIOT oh my god this is so embarrassing everyone’s gonna think I don’t know shit stupid brain mixing up their and there I KNOW THEYRE DIFFERENT I SWEAR!!!!!
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 months
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YOU’VE GOT THE CURE (EVERYTHING I NEED) | B. KATSUKI. 
✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, soft dom!reader, sub!bakaugou, developing relationships, mutual pining and ambiguous relationships, anal play (m!recieving), dry orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, 18+
✮ wc ; 6.7k
✮ a/n ; an anon comission from a beloved mutual im posting. also just dropping in to say hello
✮ synopsis ; katsuki is too fucking young to have erectile dysfunction, damn it.
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“Hey.” 
“Hm?” 
The sound of your typing is especially loud in the empty office. It’s a Saturday and neither of you are supposed to be clocked in, but when duty calls - it’s up to the two of you to answer. 
“...I’m going to tell you something. If you so much as fucking laugh I will kill you.”
You don’t look up from your screen.
“Well that’s one way to start a sentence. I’ll try not to laugh.”
Katsuki slams his hand on the desk. 
“I’m being serious,” He says in a half-yell. You look up from the edge of your laptop unflinchingly with a displeased frown, shaking your head and throwing your hand up half-heartedly. 
“Fine, fine - I promise I won’t laugh. Can you stop being all ominous? You sound like Tokoyami.” 
“There’s something wrong with me,” 
“Well yes,” 
“Not like that,” He hisses, taking a deep breath. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped seriously as he covers his face. “...I think my fucking..thing..is broken.” 
There’s a loud noise like a muffled laugh but when Katsuki looks up your expression is completely blank. Your lips are pressed tight, eyes out of focus as you continue to type. Or pretend to. True to your word, you don’t laugh but Katsuki still wants to fucking kill you. 
“Oh? What uhm,” You clear your throat, lips trembling as you try to keep yourself together. “What brought you to that conclusion?” 
He nearly snaps his pen in half. 
“What do you fucking think?!” 
“Hey. Calm down. I’m doing my best not to laugh but you are not helping.” 
This is the sort of thing Katsuki would normally take to his grave. Not only is it genuinely humiliating, it is the sort of painful personal detail he wouldn’t share with anyone even if he was fucking them. It wouldn’t matter either, that his dick isn’t working - if the other ways he relieved stress were.
He’s got an average sex drive, sometimes lower but a high libido. Getting off is a physical response to a bodily need. Like eating food or taking a nap. It’s just because it’s a physical need, it is noticeable when the need doesn’t get met. He is painfully aware of it. It’s been weeks and he thinks he’s starting to lose his mind. Worse? He’s exhausted every human option trying to fix the problem himself, save for going to the dick doctor. His testosterone levels are fine, he gets check-ups more regularly than the average person. Given his reputation is at stake, he’d rather not get prescribed anything. He’s bought ginseng and shitty vitamins and medicine he had to ship from overseas. Anything and everything. 
Picking up viagra at the ripe age of twenty four would give him psychic damage he won’t recover from, this much Katsuki is sure of. So not that. But everything else, every natural remedy conceived - he’s tried. 
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose and willfully ignoring the sound of your strained huffing “I can’t fucking get….it up and I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’m going crazy,” 
“You know, it really says something about our relationship that you can confide to me about these kinds of problems. Like I’m so proud of us,” 
“Shut up. I’m already miserable enough without wanting to fucking tell you - but the only other option is Shitty Hair and Izuku. I refuse to buy a single goddamn pill for it, and I know if I go to a doctor they’re gonna recommend it and—” He can’t finish the thought. It’s a little too sincere for the kind of conversation you’re having. 
You’re a tactless person, so of course - you don’t bother with going along with the mood. Instead you smile like the evil bastard you are. 
“And…?” 
“You little—” He sighs rubbing his palms over his hands “And because I can trust you to be the least horrible option.” 
“So you acknowledge my valiant efforts as your underling and assistant and know you’d be nowhere without me?” 
“Shut up.” 
“Aw, you’re sweet,” You say, promptly ignoring him “But yeah, I mean - no judgement. I would ask if you’ve had anything major happen but I unfortunately already know that’s not really the case.”
Yes. You, of all people, would know that no major changes have happened in Katsuki’s external life that would make it hard for his dick to function. You spend so much time together. Minus the time he spends working and catching villains in the world - you’re practically glued to his side. You’re in charge of all of his affairs, his schedule, all other personal things. Katsuki is naturally neurotic, but you handle all of it with grace and care. You know everything about him, which is why he is asking you about this problem. 
(Does it border on unprofessional? Of course it does. But your relationship to each other degraded that border a long time ago. You’ve already slept in his bed and met all of his friends. And kissed him, but that’s irrelevant for now) 
“I need solutions,” Katsuki offers, totally and utterly defeated by the situation at hand. “I’ve done everything. Taken every goddamn herb, done every meditation. Nothing is working. Nothing. I’m going to go fucking crazy.” 
“Do you think just sleeping with someone would help? I know you don’t want to ask any of your friends, but maybe an escort? We can do it discreetly.” 
“Fuck no. If it were that easy I would’ve done it.” 
You pause. Katsuki can see the focus on your face and doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. After an elongated period of silence, you perk up a little. You lock eyes with him and Katsuki briefly regrets bringing the whole conversation up in the first place. 
“Hate to ask,” You say, though there’s not enough embarrassment on your face to make anything of that statement. “But uh, have you tried getting off with other things. Like something that isn’t your dick.” 
He feels a flush creeping up his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about!”
“This is an important question,” You emphasize, an expression so alarmingly calm Katsuki doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. “Cause if the answer is no, then that’s basically the best solution.” 
“How the fuck is that the best solution? Are you insane?” 
“Don’t be such a prude, Mr. Dynamight. You’ve bottomed before. It’s not that different. Have you ever tried it on your own?” 
“I fucking hate you.” He replies, closing his eyes and frowning. “No I haven’t. Why the hell would I do something so embarrassing.” 
“I know you’re super anal retentive - no pun intended there actually, but can you relax a little? It’s a good solution if nothing else is working. Your dick might be broken but an orgasm is an orgasm.” 
“Remind me to never ask you for shit again,” 
“I’d love that. Just keep me on payroll. Anyway,” You go back to typing. “I think that should be your first move,”
“How the—are you seriously telling me I should go fuck myself to solve my problem?” 
You giggle. “Well it sounds bad when you put it like that. But I guess yeah. I can help pick out some sex toys, maybe, do a little research. If you don’t want to do it in your apartment, there might be a love hotel,” 
A blush creeps up against the back of his neck. He covers his face with his hands. 
“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up. There’s no,” Another wave of humiliation sets in “There’s no way this is how I’m going about this. Like. Fucking none.” 
“The only other option is the good old fashioned doctors appointment, then. Which we can squeeze in over telehealth I think - since you got a check-up pretty recently. Want me to do that instead,” 
“Fuck, no. I just,” He groans, feeling the stress make his eye twitch “Fuck.” 
There’s a bit of silence and a little typing, like you’ve decided to leave him to his thoughts. Which he doesn’t blame you for, because all things fucking considered - there’s not really any more options. He’s a smart man and even he is fucking stumped. He’s going to have to give into something, eventually. He knows that, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 
As soon as he gets close to giving up, you sit up straighter and give a deep long sigh. 
“Hey,” You scratch the side of your face awkwardly. “Do you want me to help you….?” 
He stares at you. “With what.” 
“With your dick being broken,” 
“What?!” 
“Don’t yell anymore, you’re giving me a headache,” You express, rubbing your temples. “Look. You need to get off, and you’re probably going to have to use your ass to do it. You don’t want to do it by yourself, and you don’t want to do it with a friend or escort. You’d prefer not going to the doctor's office or taking any pills. I’m offering - I’m not really your friend per se and you trust me enough to ask about it.” 
He hates more than anything that you have a point. 
“You can’t be fucking serious right now.”
“Hey. If you want your dick to stay broken for a while until you figure it out, do you. I’m just saying. Offering solutions is what you pay me for,” 
He pulls back a little. 
“...Are you fine with that?” 
“Oh banging you? Is that what you’re worried about?” He winces at the direct and crass way you speak. “I like you plenty and you’ve got a pretty face. I’m down if you are,” 
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.” 
“Really? I totally can,” You snicker, and he really, really considers firing you. “It’s not the first time we’ve crossed boundaries with each other. Just consider it, okay? Before you actually blow a fuse.” 
He leans back in his chair and groans. 
“Fuck. Yeah, whatever.” 
__ 
It’s another week before Katsuki takes you up on your offer. 
Miraculous it took that long, given the amount he suffered stubbornly trying to fix the problem on his own. The lengths he went too are too embarrassing to even disclose or recount but it very quickly became clear that this was not an issue that was going to magically disappear - no matter how hard he tried. 
Against his better judgment and after a long, cold shower trying to talk himself out of reality - Katsuki sent you a one line text. 
Fine. Come Saturday. 
The only thing he could say without dying of complete fucking shame. He’s grateful that’s the time you decided to have some tact. 
(Not a lot, since the text back you sent was a peach emoji and a thumbs up. But whatever, he’ll take what he can get.) 
It’s Saturday now, and he’s clean. All of him. He’s clean, and just wearing his boxers - sitting on his couch. You’ll be here very soon, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, but he’s nervous. 
You did mention you were fine with it. He believes that because there’s been long standing tension between you two for god knows how long he’s not entirely blind too. You sleep at his place sometimes and spend all day with him, and then there was that one time you two kissed (very sober) during New Years. You don’t bring it up because you know he can’t deal with it. Yet he’s comforted by the fact you at least want it (because you’ve said so), and that you’re willing to do this despite the ambiguity in your relationship. 
He knows that is inevitably going to come up today. But he really wants to fucking cum. And if it’s with you, then it’s fine. If his head was a little clearer, he would probably reject this whole thing based on his own emotional disparity. God fucking knows he is not in any place to deal with any of that. His heart barely gets by in the office and now you were going to fuck him. 
Is he stupid? 
Usually no, but because there’s a soft dick and tight balls where his brain used to be, currently yes. Everything put together, it’s a recipe for disaster. He considers telling you to fuck off and forget all this happens. 
But then he thinks about the prospect of your hands and your voice and it’s enough to at least get his heart pumping, though his dick still refuses to cooperate.
More than anything, he does trust you. Shitty, smug little fucker you can be sometimes - there’s not a single person who goes out of their way for him. More than just your job, sometimes it feels like every little thing you do is for his sake. Everything you don’t ask of him, every secret you keep. You push him where he needs to go and encourage him to take risks in his career without imposing on him. 
He blushes again, laying on his couch. He was nervous before but it’s not any better. Maybe he’s not so much of a dumbass as he is a total fucking masochistic. Is the level of overthinking the shit Izuku goes through? No wonder he’s like that all the time. 
He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring. 
He answers the door shirtless and finds you on the other side. You have a cardboard box and the most nonchalant expression he’s ever seen. Normally it would annoy him, but right now he’s kind of comforted by it. You look at him with a flat smile. 
“Hey sexy,” You say with no intonation. “Can I come in?” 
He gives you a look of disdain. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. But come in,” 
You laugh quietly as he steps aside. You don’t have much with you other than the ominous box and your bag. 
“You look like you’ve showered,” You say, taking your shoes off and putting on the house slippers he keeps for you. You don’t even look at him as you go towards his bedroom upstairs. He follows you with mild (faux) annoyance.“What a shame.” 
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“I wanted to get a little romantical and help you clean up but you’ve taken that from me. I’m a little hurt.” 
“You’re such a dumbass. As if I’d let you do that,” 
“Don’t be such a spoilsport. I’m gonna be playing in your ass today anyway.” 
“Not the same thing.” 
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” You say with a wave of your hands. When you finally get upstairs, you look over your shoulder. Katsuki gets the message quickly enough, helping you with the door. You give him a little smile and let yourself in, dropping the box on the edge of his king sized mattress. 
He stands in the doorway for a short while, glancing at you before coming in. You put your bag somewhere on the floor before getting back to the box you’ve brought over. He can guess what’s in it, but he stands with you to open it anyways.
Predictably,  the thing is full of sex toys. The first question he wants to ask is how much you spent on all of it, but he bites his tongue. 
You look at him and do a little jazz hands gesture. “Tah-dah.” 
He gives you a displeased look, but you’re well used to this sort of thing from him. There isn’t actually a whole lot in the box. The theatrics of you bring it upstairs were more likely just you fucking with him for the sake of the bit.  He frowns. Typical. 
You do have some new things in the box. A few expensive look gadgets, like a pair of quirk canceling handcuffs (decorated with leopard print fur) and something that looks like it goes around his neck. The sex toys that are in there are noticeably high quality. You definitely used his dime to pay for this. 
“Handcuffs? Seriously?” 
“You’re too much of a control freak and I like not having my hands blown to bits,” You say, shaking your head. “We should establish some ground rules and stuff now.” 
“Haah? The fuck are you gonna do that we need rules.”
“I’m not just gonna jump scare you with dominating you. But that is what I’m doing.  What we’re doing.” You give him a more serious look, that makes him feel more shy than he cares to admit.  “You get what I’m saying? You have to trust me a little, okay?” 
He makes a petulant face at you. “I already trust you dipshit,” 
“This and that are different,” You say, shaking your head. He refrains from disagreeing with you a second time. They’re really not, but he has no desire to explain that. “I’m gonna touch you and be a little strict. Are you okay with that?” 
“I don’t care.” 
“That’s not an answer,” 
He grits. “I want to cum. And I…trust you or whatever. I already agreed to this. If it’s pissing me off, I’ll just kick you offa me. Anyway, ‘s fine.” 
“If you kick me I’m suing you for battery. We can have a safeword. I’m not going to duct tape your mouth and I’m gonna talk you through most of it - but just incase.” You say. He pauses, taken aback by how… delicately you’re treating him. He doesn’t know if he should be pissed about it or not. “Any word is fine. We can use the stoplight system too if you want.”
“Stoplight?” 
“Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.” 
“That’s fine. Easy to remember.” 
“Okay,” You nod to yourself, tucking the promise to memory before looking at him more seriously. “Are you okay with intimacy?” 
He stares at you. 
“The fuck…?” 
“Kissing and hand-holding and all that other stuff.” 
“Is it necessary?” 
“Strictly speaking, no,” You look at him knowingly this time. He’s taken aback, but you’re always like this. You look through him, not at him. “Are you okay with it?” 
The implication is there. Do you want it? is the question that goes unasked. Too direct for his tastes. He feels heat spread through his body, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 
“Yeah…’m fine with it.” 
Your smile is more genuine this time around. He turns away from you a little. 
“Okay. That’s everything out of the way. I’m gonna cuff your arms,” You say. It all feels a little sudden. He figures you’d mean business, but still - he’s not all that prepared. He’s had a week to mentally prepared but that feels like nothing compared to now.  There’s an authority to the way you talk now he isn’t sure he’s going to get used too. “Repeat your safewords to me when you turn around.” 
He frowns but listens. He puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for you to cuff him, shyness making him hot. 
“Uh. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.” 
“Good boy,” You say so smoothly it almost rolls off of him. The cuffs go around his wrists, and Katsuki can feel the familiar sensation of losing his quirk. Now it’s just the both of you. “I’m expecting a little pushback, but generally - you’re to listen to me. Clear?” 
“God, fuck - yeah clear,” Katsuki says, feeling ticklish all of a sudden. “All this shitty foreplay is making me feel weird.” 
You wrap your arm around his midriff in a sudden movement, making him twitch. He can feel your cheek pressed against his chest as your hands hover over his waistband. He takes in a sharp inhale. 
“It’s good that you’re feeling anything.” You say, breath just barely above a whisper. “Gonna take this off,” 
He just nods, silently. It’s still on soft, but something is happening in his gut at least. You help him take his boxers down. You’ve probably seen him naked before, more than once. You two being attached at the hip was no joke. This time there’s this lingering anticipation that’s there, and that changes things. 
He steps out of his boxers. He’s naked and you’re clothed and his head feels like it’s spinning. Your hand guides him to the edge of the bed. He sits and watches you, but you don’t undress. 
The first kiss (second kiss) that you exchange with Katsuki is pleasant. You bend down to do it. It’s a chaste way to meet his lips, weirdly soothing while his stomach is starting to tie in knots. It’s a little surprising how..comfortable it is. Your mouth is soft, your lips taste a little like chapstick and you smell nice. You pull away to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw. 
Your thumbs draw over the shell of his ear, rubbing the lobe tender. You’re so different. The contrast in your normal personality is a little too much for him to reconcile with easily, but you brush over these things well enough. He looks away when you meet his eyes. 
“Do you wanna lay down or kneel?” 
His throat is tight. “...Don’t care.” 
You laugh a little to yourself, another kiss. “Lay down then. It’d probably be easier if you put your ass up but knowing you, I doubt it.” 
He blushes, annoyed that he’s so obviously predictable to you. 
The sheets are soft where he lays. You don’t join him on the bed at first. He just waits there cuffed as you shuffle around for things - lubes and toys and pillows. When you do return to him, you pat his side and slide a pillow underneath his back. He quickly regrets laying down, because god the position is fucking exposing. 
You get between his legs and settle there comfortably. A hand rests on his bare thigh, rubbing your thumb into smooth, muscled skin. His breath is hitched. You lean down and kiss his hip. Still no dice on the erection, but you don’t seem discouraged. 
You flip the lube open and let it pour onto your fingertips. It’s pink lube. This is mildly irritating, but saying anything will feed into your satisfaction so Katsuki bites his tongue. He watches it as you warm it in your hands, patting his leg with your clean hand. 
“Legs up,” You instruct. “And deep breath. Try not to tense.” 
“Just goin’ for it, huh?”
You don’t reply to that, but you do smile. 
It’s not his first rodeo. His second or third, but certainly not his first - but he’s never had it done for a reason like this. There was an exchange prior, that someone was putting something in him for their pleasure too. This isn’t for that. This is just for him, with your skilled hands and your oddly gentle tendencies that he doesn’t see any other time. That proves to be too much, makes his belly feel honeyed with lust. 
The warm, thick sensation of lubed fingers presses against the tight rim of muscle. He breathes and unclenches. Tries not to think too hard about anything. He’s desperate, too desperate. At this point, it’s hard to be prideful. Your hands are noticeably daintier than the ones he’s had in him prior. It’s…weirdly nice. Makes the process easier somehow. He’s reminded that you’re just you, and that makes him more nervous. 
“That’s it, baby,”  You hum, so soft it’s startling. The way the blood starts to rush in that familiar way nearly makes him sick. Oh, fuck. No way. “Oh?” 
No way. No fucking way. No way that’s what does him in. 
You pause. He takes in a deep breath, ready to say anything to defend himself. Humiliation spreads through his whole body. He can feel how hard he’s starting to burn, like the blood in his body is struggling to keep up with the desire and pump of his heart. His chest and face start to flush a familiar rose as he grits his teeth and closes his eyes. 
Weeks. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure this out. And it was you calling him baby, of all things, to get him at half-mast. 
He’s too afraid to open his eyes, but forces himself too. He’s expecting a smug laugh or sarcastic jab but instead you just look surprised. You stare at him, unblinking. He’s so startled he stares back. 
“Do you wanna…keep going?” 
He gets hard. Fuck. 
“S-shit,” He says, wishing he could cover his face with his hands properly. “Yeah,” 
He can’t read your expression at all. Annoying. You don’t brush over it though - but you don’t force him to acknowledge it either. Maybe you’re just focused on the fact he finally has something to work with and don’t want to ruin it by making him talk about his feelings. 
“Baby,” You say again, smooth and deliberate. There’s that twitch again, something pooling in his gut. He starts to feel nervous. You’re doing the same as before, stretching him and teasing the rim - getting him ready for something else. “You like bein’ my baby, Katsuki?” 
He opens his mouth, only to close it again. He tries to choke some word about, telling you go fuck yourself - but he always ends up looking at your face. Your lashes on your cheek. Soft touches and even softer words. He stops knowing what he wants at some point.
“Ugh,” His voice grows thicker. “Don’t ask me that,” 
(If he were more apt at honesty, he could admit to you that he just wants you. In whatever way. Sometimes you get like this, when you’re not screwing around - and you’re so good to him that it hurts. He likes your sarcasm and dryness. 
But he likes too when you’re this sweet on him too - even if that feels shameful as fuck. That feels like it’s crossing so many more lines that you’re usual self. He knows that better than anyone. It is crossing more lines than usual. 
He can’t help but think about it anyway.)
You laugh a little. His eyes go lidded as you continue to work him open. It’s a slow process. You circle his hole with your thumb each time before pushing in. You get one finger in without effort. The second one takes a little more. Another heaved breath and unclenching of his muscles. 
He hasn’t felt the sensation of something entering him in so long. He can’t remember when the last time was. He’s antsy as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching him slowly. You find the bottle with your free hand, flicking it open with your teeth and pouring lube onto him directly before you keep going. 
“That feel okay?” You mumbles
“Y-yeah. Feels fine,” He huffs, closing his eyes “Feels…good,” 
“It’ll feel better soon. Just need to,” You curve the two fingers inside of him up. They search and search and search until—
There. Shit, there. 
“Oh, shit,” He gasps, arching himself up as you rub it. You smile at him, pleased. “Fuck,” 
You whistle. Katsuki can feel his cock throb properly now, up at full attention. You don’t touch him though. Your other hand grips his thigh for support as you focus your wrist and energy on curling your fingers against his prostate. His stomach flutters, waist tightening.
He’s been fucked before, damn it, but this is different. This is controlled and concentrated. Your fingers are perfect in their motion, pinpoint pleasure making him break out into a feverishness. You’re annoyingly good at this. His whole nervous system feels like it’s being unraveled so slowly. Pulled apart like the slices of a fruit, something for you to pick off and eat.
His head feels like it’s full of cotton, tongue too big for his mouth. Thoughts clouded and inhibition lowered. Real pleasure. He hasn’t felt that in what has to be more than a month now. It’s overwhelming. He’s sensitive and muddy and acting stupidly - he’s well aware. It’s an out of body experience being so unwound in general but this after everything is overstimulating. 
God it feels good. How can anything feel this fucking good? 
His breathing is erratic, heart pumping trying to keep up with it. Euphoric little pricks start at his abdomen and shoot off through his whole body. Like the splintering ends of a falling star. 
He’s never had any orgasm that feels like it needs every muscle in his body to pump through him. It starts in his center and spreads out, melts him slowly. Usually the feeling of needing to cum is passing - just building pleasure until the orgasm hits and the high relaxes. His cock is leaking now with every little press along his insides. Little white dribbles of pre-cum sliding down his shift all the way down to his ass. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, so he focuses on how it feels. 
“Fuck, that feels so good,” His voice almost gives. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down.”
“You can cum if you want to, Katsuki,” As if to drive the point home by massaging his inner thigh, neglecting his cock “Guess you’re pretty sensitive inside, hm? Gonna make you cum like a girl,” 
His blush deepens.. 
“Haah, fuck - fuck I’m not sensitive. It’s just, hng. Been a while,” 
“Don’t be a liar or I won’t let you cum,” You tease. 
His eyes shoot wide, brows touching his hairline.  “Fuck, d-don’t you dare. .” 
You have the nerve to laugh at him. All things considered, maybe you’ve earned. “Just teasing. I’m awful but not that awful. “ 
“You’re not awful, fuck - just really,” He throws his head back against the sheets. “Need to cum, really need to—” 
“Gonna cum without even touching your cock,” You say, half-amused. He shudders when the realization dawns on him.“You’re so sweet.” 
He’s drooling. The strength goes out in his jaw as the feeling just builds and builds and builds. It goes on like it’ll never topple. 
When it does, it doesn’t feel so much like a rope unsnapping as much as it feels like everything is being pulled from under him. Like the loss of gravity. His abdomen goes tight, the anticipation of it making it impossible to breathe. So close, so close, so close. His brain feels shut off, mindlessly humping along air to capitalize on everything. You’re encouraging only eggs him on further. He lets out a garbled little noise, choking. His voice rasps as electricity flows through him. 
And he cums, there’s an orgasm - but nothing comes out. He cums so hard but his balls still feel so tight and full. It feels good but he’s still so fucking hard. It snaps him awake as his eyes open, and you’re staring at his cock a little awestruck. 
“Oh, poor baby,” You say - not exactly mocking him but not exactly being kind either. Katsuki stares at you lost and hazy. “A dry orgasm after all of that. That’s just cruel. 
He heaves. “What the….how am I supposed to?” 
His dick aches. Fuck he almost wants to cry. 
Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft in a sudden movement, making him hiss. He almost cusses you out. Sensitive, too sensitive. You put your thumb over the tip of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from it as you. You look mesmerized as it dribbles against your thumb
A long pause. 
“Hey,” Your expression is  serious. “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“What?” 
“I’m really turned on right now, shit. I was planning on just helping you but, you didn’t cum yet and I’m...,” You’re looking at him so directly. His heart pounds. “You can say no,” 
Of course he wants to fuck you. That’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t know where he’d find the fucking gall. 
“....’s sensitive,” He says instead, flushing with embarrassment. You brighten up. “Just… give me a minute,” 
“I will but first,” You rummage through your items and pull out a plug. His eyes widen. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” 
He grumbles, but doesn’t reject you. You have some kind of miracle in you - so he feels more inclined to just give in to whatever you say. You look eager to do it. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. 
It’s easy enough to put the plug in when he’s already all soft. He’s still sensitive and swollen. He hisses as the cool metal of the plug slides into softened hole, before settling. You give him a little tap on his which he glares at you for. Your only response is laughter. 
There’s nothing to talk about while Katsuki watches you undress. You don’t take it all off - just your bottoms. It’s not that he has nothing on his mind. Just that… seeing you like that isn’t making him any less hard. He just… looks at you. Dumbly. You slide your shorts off in one go and your underwear along with it, and you’re all on display. 
It’s pretty. Your pussy is really pretty. A horrifyingly embarrassing thing for him to think but it’s true. There’s a fine layer of hair on your mound that he likes. You’re dripping wet like you said you were, and that doesn’t make the situation any easier. You give him a little smug grin as you settle over his lap. He stares at you completely absent-minded, flushed. 
“Like what you see?” You tease. He’s too struck to lie to you. 
“Yeah,” He rasps. He’s out of his mind right now. He blames it on his dick. “I wish I could take these fuckin’ cuffs off.” 
You look at him a little surprised. “You don’t like being cuffed and restrained?” 
His ears feel hot, heat prickling up his skin. “Didn’t say that just,” He groans even trying to say it. “...Wanna touch you,” 
He trails off. You use your hand to turn his face back to you, cupping his jaw as you bend forward to kiss him. He stares at you wide-eyed, making a noise of surprise. This kiss is different from all the others. Deeper, with more feeling. He gets into it, lifting his head to kiss you back. 
When you pull away, you’re all fluttered lashes and adoration. 
“After I drain your dick dry,” You say with a confidence that astounds him. “I’ll take them off and let you fuck me proper. But you have to tell me you want that, first. Do you wanna fuck me, baby?” 
“Shit. Y-yeah,” He nods, feeling absolutely swept up in your pace. 
“Say it.” 
“I wanna fuck you, dammit,” He stutters through the last of his sentence. “Don’t make me beg, my dick is going to blow off if you keep torturing me.” 
You laugh good naturedly and he feels a little proud that he made you laugh. The thought that he’s beyond whipped wipes the smile off his face completely, but whatever. 
You pull back, sitting up as you examine his cock. You hold it up to you, weighing your options. 
“I’m too horny to open myself up. I’m just gonna sit on it, ‘kay? Don’t buck your hips up,” 
He opens his mouth to protest, but the words die in his mouth. The warm, wet heat of your cunt is immediately overstimulating. He groans so gutterally it startles him. Like it’s punched out of him. This is the only pressure his hard cock has gotten in months and it’s making him feel like he’s on fire. 
You don’t give him a chance to cover. You lean over him as you maneuver his cock to your entrance with all disregard for his sanity. You hiss as the tip finds the spot. Fuck you’re wet. Your insides are so soft, so sticky - but you’re still so damn tight. 
As you promised you go slowly. It doesn’t help him losing his mind. Worsened by the fact he can see you on top of him, all bated breaths and shaky moans. There must be a dull pain, but you only give him a smile as you get the first inch. 
“You’re big,” You say breathlessly. His cock twitches to life. “Feels fucking good. Shit, that’s amazing. Haha, I can feel you so deep already.” 
“Please stop talking, before I, haah,” 
“Don’t cum yet,” You demand, lowering yourself further and further until you’ve bottomed out. Katsuki feels fucking crazy. “Let me get my fill first.” 
“Ngh, easier said than fucking done,” 
You just laugh. “Try your hardest, Mr. Hero. Show off your endurance, hm?” 
He groans as you start to move. You really don’t regard him at all. You lean over him with one hand and use your other to tease and toy with your clit as you ride his cock with reckless abandon. The room is quick to fill with noise - the sound of skin slapping skin, the skin sticking where your hips meet his thighs. 
 You’re moaning in little broken waves. He’s not going to last if he listens to you anymore. 
He’s biting the inside of his cheek trying not to cum, but you don’t make it easy. You’re riding him with so much force, using him. Your pussy is so tight it’s gripping him, sucking him dry. A vice-like grip, sticky and pliant over the hard curve of his cock. Everytime you bounce and throw your ass a little harder onto him, he can feel you. Feel himself and  how deep he is. His hands tighten into fists where they’re cuffed in front of him. 
He’s never been… used like this. But he doesn’t hate it the way you disregard him to chase your own pleasure while being so generally mindful of his own. You take and take and take but you make it feel so good. 
It’s not helped by the plug in his ass, brushing against his prostate every single time you move. Makes him jolt. Every fiber and nerve in his body is wound as tight as it can possibly go. All of his strength, sanity, and focus he has left in him is trying not to cum, not to buck his hips up and rut into you like a stupid animal no matter how much he wants too. 
He can feel you start to cum before you even tell him. Your walls pulse with need and your movement starts to get slower. The grip you have holding you up weakens slightly. 
“Gonna cum. Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” You say with a pant. You open your eyes and look down on him “Cum with me, okay? Don’t hold it in,” 
The words alone trigger a reaction. But with everything else, it’s like Katsuki explodes. Weeks worth of tension in his body, in his muscles, in his everything  - burst at the seams. You cum and he follows you nearly in succession. The hard pulsing of your swollen cunt suck around him like a vice and he goes practically limp feeling his dick finally drain. 
He cums and he can’t stop cumming. Pumps out so much white hot seed his head starts to cloud. He fucks up into you, sloppy and dumb. Chasing his high as he pours every ounce of his load into your pussy without so much as a modicum of shame. A month of dryness overwritten by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. He doesn't know how long he stays there, painting your walls with his spend. It just goes on forever, longer than he’s ever experienced. 
He has his eyes closed as he goes limp. Fucking hell. 
It takes him a while to go soft again. When he finally does and returns to consciousness, he’s still nestled inside you. You give him a smile when his eyes finally open, leaning forward to kiss his hairline. 
“Still all there?” 
His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “I feel like I fucking died,” 
You giggle. 
“So… no?” 
“Kind of. Barely. What the fuck is up with you.” He says laying his head back, sweat dripping down his back. “Shit.” 
“Did you like it?” 
He gives you an unimpressed look as you laugh. 
“I’m glad.” You say softly. You’re warm. God he’s down bad. “We have a lot to talk about later. You should take a little break for now.” 
He nods in agreement to both things before pausing. “For now..?” 
“You thought we were done?” You say with a tilted head. He gapes. “I thought you knew I was more ruthless than that.” 
He groans. 
“You’re insane.” 
You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. 
“You love me.” 
He lets you kiss him some more and doesn’t bother denying it. 
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After All This Time | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello! Who wants to have their feelings hurt?! 🙋🏻‍♀️ I love some good angst, some pain, some emotional turmoil. 
Warnings: relationship drama, references to violence, arguments, crying, ex!Bucky
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“What are you doing here?” You stared at Bucky, shocked. Perplexed. He had no business at your apartment. Especially not so late at night. Especially not after what he’d done. The way he’d treated you. It took a long time- too long- to achieve some sense of normalcy after things fell apart. After he broke your heart. You weren’t over him; you feared you never would be. But you finally arrived at something that resembled stability. You were nearly okay- nearly.
But Bucky’s unexpected presence took you out at the knees. Was he always this beautiful? Or did you just miss him? His hair was a bit longer, his stubble a little scruffier. His deep blue eyes softened at the sight of you. No, he was always this beautiful. Dammit.
His expression was stern. Serious. Just like it had been when he left. He’d promised you he’d never come back. “Can I come in?” He was a liar, apparently.
“What? No.”
Bucky breezed past you anyway.
You crossed your arms over your chest, hiding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. Your arms hugged your body, crisscrossing over your old college shirt. Thank god you hadn’t opted to wear one of the many henleys he’d left behind. The humiliation of him seeing you in one of his old shirts would’ve been too much. You knew you shouldn’t wear them anymore, but you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop yourself from cloaking your body in the comfort they provided. It was sad, maybe even a little pathetic. But you didn’t know how to stop.
“Hey- You can’t just barge into my apartment-”
“Shut the door.”
You stared at him, incredulous. “No. What do you- get out.”
Bucky closed and locked the door for you. His fingers twisted the key in the deadbolt and fastened the chain. He even pulled on the door once- then twice. It was secure. He positioned his body in front of it- either blocking your way out or someone else’s way in. You weren’t sure which.
“Go pack a bag. We’re leaving here in five minutes.” He checked his watch, “Sooner, if you can manage it.” He looked up from his wrist and finally let himself drink you in. Were you always this breathtaking? Or was he just happy to see you? Your skin glowed in the yellow light of your reading lamp. Your hair was shorter now- he liked it. Yeah, you were always this intoxicating. Bucky wondered how he could even question it.
“Are you out of your mind? We’re not going anywhere.” Anger was easier. Easier than sadness, than heartbreak. You let wrath wrap itself around your heart, shielding you from the pain. Bucky didn’t belong in your home anymore, no matter how badly you wished he did. He didn’t want to be here- he didn’t want you. He’d made that painfully clear.
And though part of you liked seeing him here, existing in the home you once shared, you knew it would only serve to hurt you. Your voice was quieter this time, less confident, “You need to leave.”
He let out a huff, as though he had the right to be annoyed with you. “Just trust me on this,”,
“Trust you? That’s hilarious-”
“You’re not safe here,” he said. His tone was firm, irrefutable. “Someone attacked Pepper and Morgan. Clint’s wife, Laura, and their kids. Murdock’s associate- that guy Nelson.”
A burst of worry shot through you, “Shit. Are they okay?”
“They’re fine. They’ve all been relocated.” He wondered how you could worry about others while bypassing any concern for yourself. But the distress on your face was real; you’d gotten close with the families of the team before Bucky left. They welcomed you like one of their own, and your care for them survived even after things with Bucky died.
“Sam is taking his sister and her kids somewhere- everyone’s moving their loved ones.”
Silence. You waited for Bucky to elaborate. He waited for you to put the pieces together.
“So… why are you here? What does any of that have to do with me?”
“Hydra. They’re coming after our lov-” Bucky cleared his throat, “the people in our lives.”
You shook your head, “Yeah, I get that. But I’m not in your life.”
Bucky knew you weren’t his anymore, but hearing you say it cut him to the bone.
The strong façade you wore threatened to crumble. This was too much for you- almost cruel. Back when things were good, they were really good. You planned on staying with Bucky forever. You saw yourself marrying him, spending the rest of your days together. He’d had other plans. He left you. And never looked back.
“I’m fine here,” you told him. “I don’t need you.”
Bucky struggled for words. This was harder than he thought. “Well… they- they don’t know that we...” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Hydra, I mean, they don’t know what um, what happened. We were pretty public- they might think we’re still together. So, I need to get you to a safe house. Just in case.”
“Why?” The question hung heavy in the air.
Bucky didn’t say a word.
“Since when do you care? Don’t act like I matter to you all of a sudden- don’t pretend that you’re worried about me.” You forced every ounce of emotion behind an impenetrable wall, “leave. I’m serious, I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You’re in danger. And I…” He ran a hand through his hair “Just come with me. Let me protect you.”
“I’m not yours to protect.” The stinging sensation of approaching tears burned behind your eyes. “So… you can go.”
Your words gutted him. He hadn’t felt this much pain since he left, since the last time he saw you. He’d left you alone in the apartment you once shared. He’d shut the door and stood on the other side, unable to walk away. His forehead rested against the wood, and he listened to you. The sound of you sobbing- wailing- drove stakes into his chest. But he knew it was better this way.
“Yeah, I know that…” he said, his voice softer now. “But your family, your friends- they’ll be devastated if something happens to you. Don’t do that to them. Come with me. And when this blows over, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
You hated that he was right. To let your pride endanger your life was selfish, stupid. You could practically hear your mom telling you to go with him.
But there was a side of you would rather die at the hands of Hydra than share a safe house with Bucky. Sure, you missed him. A lot. You wished he’d never walked out that door. But spending days- or weeks- with him? Just the two of you? In a secluded location? It would tear you to pieces.
You grumbled under your breath, “fine. How long will we be gone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, then- where are we going?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. Coordinates will be sent to the jet once we board.”
“Okay, great. Perfect. I don’t know how much to pack. I don’t know what kind of clothes I need. Awesome. Thanks, James.” You turned on your heel and headed toward your bedroom, “I’ll be out in a minute.”
James. James. You’d never called him James. Ever. Not even in a joking sense. He was always Bucky or Buck or Barnes or baby- depending on the context. Never James. It was so impersonal, you regarding him by his government name. So cold. Distant. He knew he deserved it- deserved way worse. But it stung, nonetheless.
With you busy in the other room, Bucky drank in the warmth of your apartment. It was inviting, cozy. Just like always. You’d gotten a few new pieces of art since he left; they took up the spaces left empty by the photos you removed. The picture of the two of you from a Stark gala. A strip of the two of you laughing in a photo booth at the pier. A polaroid of him kissing your cheek at Sam’s birthday party. He wondered what you did with them. Did you still have them- somewhere? Did you hide them away in a dusty box under the bed he used to share with you?
Or did you burn them?
He missed living there. Missed waking up next to you, missed making dinner for you. Missed you.
“Hey, I’m sorry to call so late…” you said into your phone, cradling it between your ear and your shoulder. “I’m gonna have to work from, um- I have to leave town for a little while.”
Bucky heard you on the phone with your boss, doing your best to lie your way through the situation. But you didn’t give much detail, just like he’d taught you when you first started dating. He told you never to trust anyone fully- never to believe that someone is worthy of every secret. He’d been speaking about outsiders. But when he left, he proved to you that no one deserved your trust. Not even him.
“Yeah, just family stuff,” he heard you say. “My cousin has been sick and took a turn for the worst, so… I need to be there just in case.”
He was so proud.
You stuffed clothes into a bag and rounded up the necessary toiletries. Your laptop, headphones, and a few books made the cut, and you grabbed the bag’s zipper, prepared to give it a final yank. But as you tried to close it up, a piece of fabric caught your eye. You let out a deep sigh. You’d moved on instinct, grabbing things from your closet and dresser without thinking. And some of Bucky’s old clothes had found their way among your items.
A flannel, two henleys, and a sweatshirt sat nestled at the bottom of your bag. They were some of your favorite things to wear- soft, comfortable, cozy. But you couldn’t bring them with you. Not when there was a chance Bucky would see them. You quickly swapped them out with pieces that didn’t belong to him and thanked the universe you’d noticed before it was too late.
When you emerged moments later with duffel bag in hand, Bucky was waiting for you. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door. Hadn’t taken off his jacket. He wasn’t welcome here anymore. And making himself at home wasn’t right.
“Uh, here’s this,” he outstretched a hand in your direction and offered you a phone. “We can’t be sure that your phone isn’t being tracked. So, you have to leave yours here. This is a burner- just for emergencies.”
You dropped your phone on the counter with a dramatic groan and took the burner from his hand. Not only were you to be trapped for an indeterminant amount of time with the man who ripped your heart out of your chest and eviscerated it in front of your eyes- but you also had to give up your phone. “This feels like a kidnapping.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” He made a move for your bag, “I can take that for you-”
“I got it”.
With a nod, he opened the door and checked the hall for potential dangers. And when he deemed it safe, he gestured for you to join him. He watched you lock the door- and smiled to himself when he realized you still used the same key. You never changed the locks after he left.
“This is the most conspicuous thing I’ve ever seen…” A jet sat on the roof of your building, just a few feet from the stairwell. “If Hydra didn’t know where I was before, they definitely do now.”
Bucky gave an awkward laugh, paired with a quiet “yeah”, and tried to help you board. But you shied away from any attempts as assistance. You needed to prove to Bucky that you didn’t need him anymore- no matter how untrue it was.
The flight was awkward. Quiet. Tense. You couldn’t escape to the back of the jet and hide from Bucky- there was no ‘back’. It was a small aircraft. Only enough room for two. It forced you to sit next to him, watching clouds paint with windows with their condensation as the jet sliced through the sky.
“So…” Bucky said after a while, “how’ve you been?”
You quieted him with a look.
The answer to his question was complicated- you didn‘t have the emotional energy to explain. Diving into how angry and miserable and lonely you’d been since his departure would take hours. Maybe days. And he didn’t deserve the inside scoop. He wasn’t welcome to your secrets or the inner workings of your mind- not anymore.
“We’re here…” Bucky said, his voice pulling you from your light sleep. You didn’t realize you’d nodded off. But sleep was the only escape from the painfully awkward situation he’d put you in.
“Okay, so…” Bucky opened the door to the house and gestured for you to enter before him. Still such a gentleman. “I know this place is kinda small. But I’m gonna do my best to not be in your space.” He flipped on a few lights and bathed the house in a warm yellow light. “They promised that the kitchen is stocked. I think there’s firewood somewhere in case we get cold. And there should be clean sheets and towels and stuff in a closet somewhere. As for the, um…” He cleared his throat, “the sleeping arrangements. There’s only one bedroom, so it’s yours- I’m gonna take the couch.”
He threw his bag over the back of the couch and watched it bounce against the cushions. “Let me know if you need anything.”
What you needed, he couldn’t give you. He couldn’t go back in time and reverse the effects of breaking your heart. He couldn’t rid you of the agony brought on by his absence. And so, with a curt nod, you bid him goodnight.
It was nearly three in the morning by the time you made the bed and crawled beneath the covers. You curled into a ball and pulled the blankets up over your head, as though protecting yourself. This had to be a joke. A prank. The wound Bucky’s departure caused had barely scabbed over- and his return flayed it wide open. It throbbed and ached as you cried under the safety of your blankets. You didn’t know what you’d done in a past life to deserve hurt like this.
Bucky collapsed onto the couch. He slumped forward and rested his head in his hands, replaying every moment since you opened the door. The look on your face when you saw him again, the disdain in your voice, the distrust you held for him- it made his chest ache. He hated himself for throwing away the best thing he’d ever had. For hurting you. For breaking the trust you’d built together.
He didn’t sleep that night- the pain didn’t let him. He, instead, remained awake. Wired. He cleaned his guns. Double and triple checked his supply of ammo. He made sure every window was locked, every door secure. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.
The following day passed slowly. Bucky made enough breakfast for both of you, and kept your portion warm while he did the dishes and waited for you to wake. But you never joined him. You remained holed up in your room, miserable.
You didn’t care about Hydra; they couldn’t hurt you more than Bucky already had. Sure, they could beat you senseless and bleed you dry. They could torture you and hold you hostage. But it simply couldn’t compare. Physical injuries heal. They scab over and turn to scars. But the pain Bucky caused never ceased. The wound bled day and night. His mark on you could never be fixed.
Only when your hunger pangs grew painful did you leave the safety of your room.
“Hey, I made breakfast…” Bucky said when you finally emerged, “I tried to keep yours warm but- it’s in the fridge if you want it. I know it’s well past breakfast time and you probably don’t want cold spinach scramble and hashbrowns, but-”
He was being so nice;  he still remembered your favorite breakfast. You thought back on all the Sunday mornings you’d spent together, making breakfast and listening to music. Drinking coffee. Dancing in the kitchen until the food almost burned. But you banished the memories. And sent away the warm feelings brought on by Bucky cooking for you again.
You didn’t make eye contact, didn’t thank him. Instead, you rummaged through the cabinets until you found a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread. “I’ll make something for myself,” you told him.
“Oh- okay, yeah. Knives are in the drawer to your left.” Bucky felt himself hovering. He stood across the kitchen island from you like an expectant child hoping for the approval of a stern parent. He knew he’d never get it, didn’t deserve it. But he couldn’t help himself. Being so close to you felt good. Really good. And though he’d promised he wouldn’t invade your space, he found it impossible to walk away.
You, however, couldn’t get away fast enough. You hastily made a sandwich and grabbed a glass of water before retreating to you room, safe from Bucky’s gaze. With the door shut, you allowed yourself to sink down to the floor. A gnawing sense of soul-crushing sadness eclipsed any feelings of hunger. But you forced the sandwich down anyway. You swore to yourself that everything would be okay, that you’d go home soon enough and try once again to heal.  
But you didn’t believe your own words.
Bucky hated how uncomfortable you were around him. It was his fault, and he knew it, but it made him sad all the same. At one time, he’d been the person you loved most. The person you  cared for. The one you could trust. You knew, without a doubt, that you could go to him with anything. Any problem, any worry- no matter how small. And he’d find a way to make it better. And if he couldn’t fix it, he could at least make you smile. He could bring you comfort and make you feel safe. Loved. He was the only one you wanted. The only person for you. His soul and yours were forged in the same fire- just a few decades apart.
But that fire was dead- snuffed out. And Bucky no longer held the secret key to your heart. He brought you only anguish and anxiety. Torment. Agony. And he hated himself for it.
He wondered if you’d spent all your time hiding in that bedroom. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. You weren’t happy around him like you used to be- why would you subject yourself to such unpleasant feelings unless it were absolutely necessary? He resolved to give you as much space as possible, to leave the room when you made your way to the kitchen. To not hover. Anything to make you more comfortable.
And if that meant that he didn’t get to speak to you for the remainder of your time in hiding, then so be it.
That night, however, he got to speak to you again.
He didn’t rest the night of your arrival, not even for a moment. And it finally got to him. He turned in early, falling asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. The last few embers glowed orange beneath the charred wood, but all warmth was gone. His sleeping form tossed and turned beneath a thin blanket. Droplets of sweat bloomed from his skin as heaving breaths forced their way into his chest.
A familiar sound woke you in the middle of the night. You hadn’t heard it in quite some time, but knew you’d never forget it. Bucky was having a nightmare. And before you had a moment to rethink your actions, you were up. You ditched your bedding and fled in the direction of his screams.
And he woke to the soft sound of your voice.
“Bucky, hey…” you placed your hands on his shoulders. “Hey, wake up. Bucky-”
His eyes flew open and quickly focused on your face. And though your presence brought a relief he hadn’t experienced in what felt like years, it was too late. His heart hammered against his ribs; his lungs burned. He couldn’t breathe.
“You’re okay. You’re alright. Here-” One of your hands migrated from his shoulder to his chest while the other searched for one of his. You dragged his hand upward and mirrored the placement, pressing his palm to your sternum. It was muscle memory, a deep-seeded reflex you didn’t know you still had. You used to do it every night- back when Bucky was still yours. He liked it. He said it made him feel like you were synching your heartbeat with his. And it always calmed him down.
Bucky let loose a deep sigh of relief. It seemed to come from somewhere else completely, like he’d been holding his breath since the last time he touched you. Your pulse beat strong and steady beneath his hand, thudding against his palm like his own personal metronome. And maybe it was all in his head, but he felt his own heartrate slow. He breathed easier. A smile pricked at the corners of his mouth.
But you pulled away all too soon.
Bucky sat up in pursuit of your recoiling hand, “Thank you…”
“Yeah.” You stood, hoping to make it back to your room before the tears began to fall. But Bucky’s words stopped you.
“I really- I really appreciate you waking me. And doing… that. For me.” He felt himself growing sheepish, but couldn’t let the encroaching embarrassment get the best of him. “I missed it- I missed you.”
Something in you snapped.
You turned toward him with a strange mixture of anger and pain burning behind your eyes, your breathing growing ever sharper.
“Why am I here?” Your tone was calm, measured. It was the kind of rage that turned your words to ice. To stone.
He cocked his head to the side, “um, because of Hydra. Because you’re in danger…”
“But why am I here?” You felt yourself losing control, “You heard they were going after the team’s loved ones and you thought to yourself, ‘hmm, that girl I completely destroyed, that girl whose life I ruined, that girl who I most certainly do not love, that girl I left for no reason, she’s in danger! Hydra will probably go after her, you know, since I haven’t seen her or spoken to her in almost a year!’”
Bucky didn’t know what to say.
“This makes no fucking sense, James!”
James. You’d let one or two ‘Buckys’ slip earlier- never again.
“Why did you come to my apartment? Why did you fucking kidnap me and bring me to this stupid house? Why did you put me on the same tier as Tony’s wife? As Clint’s wife? We aren’t together, I’m not in your life, and I’m certainly not a ‘loved one’- you made that painfully clear.  Why did you-”
“Because I still love you”
You rolled your tear-filled eyes, “Don’t you fucking lie to me.”
“I’m not lying…” Bucky sighed. “I swear on my life.”
An ugly scoff broke free from your throat, “I’m supposed to believe that? You once ‘swore on your life’ that you’d never hurt me. And that shit clearly wasn’t true, so-”
“I swear on Steve’s life. I swear on his grave,” Bucky’s voice wavered ever so slightly. “I still love you. I never stopped.”
It rendered you speechless.
“I never wanted to hurt you. And I didn’t want to leave. But I didn’t know what else to do.”
You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. “You ‘didn’t know what else to do’? You left me because you ‘didn’t know what else to do’?”
Bucky shook his head. Regret pooled in his chest, and he wished to take back every stupid word. “That’s not what I meant-” he sighed. “I mean… I’m- I’m not meant for this. To be with someone. To be loved. Bad stuff- really bad stuff- follows me around. The war and the train and Hydra and Zemo and Thanos and the blip and the Flag Smashers and-”
He fought to catch his breath. “I break things. Anything I touch- it gets ruined.” He paused for a moment. Everything inside his head moved too fast. It blurred past him and fell from his lips before he had a chance to make edits. And if he was going to fix this, he needed to be in control.
“I never wanted to break you. Or put you in danger.”
“You never hurt me- physically…” you said. “You know I was never scared of you- I didn’t think I was ever in danger with you. I didn’t think you’d break me-”
“No, I know. I know.” Getting to that point had been hard for him. He shied away from you for so long, scared he’d somehow make you bleed or paint your skin with bruises. But you’d worked with him. You showed him patience and moved at his pace, working through the fear he held.
“What I mean is… I got scared because people knew about us. Our relationship was public. And I was afraid that putting you in the public eye like that would invite danger. A lot of people hate me- they want revenge. Retribution. So I thought…” he rolled his eyes at his past-self, at the version of him who let you get away. “I thought removing myself from your life would ensure your safety.” He shrugged, “no one would have reason to come after you if we weren’t together-”
“And look where we are now…” you said, “Hiding. In a safehouse. Because my life is in jeopardy.” Part of you- the soft side- wanted to show him mercy. To hold him and make him feel safe. To console him. But the side of you who wore brass knuckles and steel toed bootsa prevailed, “That was a really fucking stupid thing to do…”
Bucky gave a pained chuckle, “yeah, I- I know.” His cheeks reddened ever so slightly, and his shoulders slumped with shame. He knew he fucked up. “I’m sorry. About all of it. About leaving. About hurting you- God, I never wanted to hurt you.” The pain in his eyes could’ve made you crumble.
“And I’m sorry about putting you in harm’s way. About abducting you like this.” He took a small step in your direction; he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t drawn to you. But he knew he had no right to exist in such close proximity to the person he hurt. And so he stopped himself, no matter how badly he wished he didn’t have to.
“But to answer your question with full honesty…” he said,  “you’re here because I love you. Because I’ll always love you. And even though you hate my guts- which you absolutely should- I care about you. And I want to keep you safe, as safe as I can. I want to protect you.” He let out a sigh, “And I know you’re not… you’re not mine to protect, but-” The words tasted like vinegar. If Bucky thought hearing them hurt, he was wrong. Saying them was far worse. “you’re here because I would rather die than let anything happen to you.”
He didn’t like the way your shoulders were yanked up near your ears, the way your arms sat crossed over your chest- like you were trying to protect yourself. But he understood. He’d hurt you- badly. Left you gutted and bleeding. He knew you’d never trust another thing he said- rightfully so.
Silent tears flowed freely down your cheeks and dripped down your neck. The weight of Bucky’s words forced you to lean against the nearest wall. Everything your friends said about him, everything your family told you- it was wrong. He wasn’t apathetic. He wasn’t inconsiderate or manipulative. He was just misguided- maybe a little stupid.
“I told myself…” you finally said, “for months, I told myself that you never loved me. That you used me to make yourself feel better.”
Bucky vehemently shook his head, “that’s not-”
“What was I supposed to do? I needed something to make me feel better…” you said. “It was easier to think that you never loved me. But you left me because you loved me? That’s- that was a terrible idea, by the way.”
“I know…”
A fresh wave of tears cascaded from your eyes and left droplets on your shirt. “I want… I want to believe you. I want to believe every nice thing you just said and pick up right where we left off. But I’m…” You pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I’m scared- I’m scared to trust you again. To let my guard down.”
Bucky took another small step in your direction. “That’s fine, that’s… understandable- more than understandable. Smart.”
You nodded.
“And I don’t want you to think- I’m not telling you all of this to convince you to get back together with me. Or to upset you- I never want to hurt you again. You just deserve to know the truth. So…”
He wondered how the two of you got to this point. How you went from domestic bliss to something so ugly. But he knew exactly how it happened- it was his fault. And he didn’t deserve a second chance. He deserved to be alone for the rest of his life while you moved on, found someone new- someone better. He wanted that for you. Of course, he’d rather have you all to himself. But it wasn’t right.
“It’s just- I’ve been regretting… well, everything, since the moment I left. I wish I would’ve talked to you, you know? I wish I was honest. I wish I told you what was going on inside my head.” He ran a hand through his hair, “maybe things would’ve been different.”
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say these things…” you said. “But now that you’re saying them it feels…” The floor rocked beneath your feet. You teetered to the side and reached for the arm of the couch- it was all too much. The lack of sleep, the emotional exhaustion, the weight of Bucky’s words. You needed to sit.
Bucky reached for you, desperate to help you steady yourself- but he pulled away. He didn’t have permission to touch you. Not anymore.
“Things absolutely would’ve been different,” you let out a deep sigh. Every possible outcome you came up with ended far better than the reality. “Because we would’ve worked through it together. As a team. And no one would’ve gotten hurt.”
All Bucky could do was nod.
“And maybe we’d still end up in this safe house, but we’d probably use it as a makeshift romantic getaway instead of an agonizingly awkward prison sentence.”
The thought brought a smile to Bucky’s face, to yours. It was easy to imagine the two of you camped out in the living room, reading by the fire and drinking old-fashioneds. You’d stay up late watching movies together and sleep until noon. And when the threat was eliminated, you’d almost wish for more danger- anything to keep the two of you in your own little world.
Everything went quiet. Neither of you knew what to say- or if there were any words appropriate for the situation. Was there even anything else to be said? Part of you wanted to retreat to your bedroom. To hide under your covers. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to squander this moment.
A sad smile pulled at your lips. “I don’t know where… where are we supposed to go from here?” You stared at Bucky as though he had all the answers, as though it wasn’t him who burned your world to the ground.
“I don’t think we have to go anywhere,” he said. “Nothing has to change between us- like I said, I’m not trying to change your opinion about me or make you feel bad. When this whole thing blows over, I’ll take you home. I’ll stay out of your hair.” He leaned against the wall opposite you, submitting to his future- and to his past, “I know I can’t change what I did.”
Another long silence filled the space. It pushed its way in between the two of you and rested heavy against your chest. Bucky waited for a curt ‘okay’ or a quick ‘goodnight’, but no such thing came.
“What if I don’t want that?” you said after a while.
He pushed away from the wall, as though your words pulled him upright. “What?”
“What if I want to try again?” Your heart thundered against your chest, growing faster and faster with each passing second.  You stood on the precipice, willing yourself to fall. This was your chance, the opportunity you’d hoped for. And though it sent fear coursing through your veins, you knew you had to jump.
“No matter how many times I tell myself that you hurt me for the fun of it or that you never actually loved me, I don’t believe it. I can’t- even if I want to…” you let out a sad laugh. “Because I know who you are- I know what we had was real. And I think- I know it’s worth trying again.”
A quick flash of pain and anxiety tore through you, hollowing your chest, “And yeah, maybe I’m stupid for being overly optimistic or letting myself be vulnerable with you. But I’m… I’m willing to risk getting hurt all over again.”
Bucky stood stone still, rooted in place. This was all he’d ever wanted. But now that he had it, he feared the thing his heart desired most. What if he fucked up again? What if he hurt you again? What if he squandered his  second chance?
“Are you…” Bucky took a deep breath, “are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Because you’re the only person I’ll ever want, Buck. Because I love you.”
Bucky never thought he’d hear those words again. And before he knew it, he was on the ground in front of you. He sunk to his knees, incapable of standing any longer. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His tears dampened your skin as he let his head fall against your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he possible could. He feared you’d change your mind, that you’d take back everything you said. And if you did, he at least wanted to know that he held you. That he touched you one last time.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry- you have no idea how sorry I am”, he said between sharp breaths. “I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna make it all up to you, okay? I promise. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you, that I’d rather die than lose you again. And I’m-”
“Okay, hey… let’s relax a bit.” You met him on the floor and pulled his head against your chest. You ran a hand along his back, soothing him. His shaky breaths were so sharp, so ragged, that they seemed almost painful. “Breathe, Buck. I love you, okay? And I know you love me- I know. You don’t have to prove it.”
Bucky tried to deliver a rebuttal, but you wouldn’t allow it.
“Hey- it’s okay. We’re okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair, eliciting a deep sigh from his chest. “We’re both tired. And emotional. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? It’s the middle of the night- we can talk things through in the morning.” You gently pulled his head from your chest and swiped the tears from his cheeks. Touching him again, holding him, provided the salve you needed. The wound in your chest started healing. The pain ceased. And for the first time in almost a year, you felt whole.
Your hands found Bucky’s and pulled him up right. With a gentle tug, you led him in the direction of your room.
“Come on,” you said, “let’s go to bed, baby.”
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priniya · 1 year
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GETAWAY CAR !
reader gets upset, when xavier pays no attention to her at the raven’s, but when things get complicated, and her best friend is in the center, she lets down her grudge.
notes: xavier thorpe x reader. reader is a witch. best friends to lovers. mentions of alcohol (wine), underage drinking, probably a few curse words, characters might be a little off tho. SPOILERS for wednesday finale! read on your own responsibility. NOT PROOFREAD
masterlist • taglist (click to be added!)
in the depth of your heart, you’ve always known that you’d end up with xavier thorpe, or have a high school love story with him, so there was no surprise for anyone that knew you, that when he finally asked you out to be his date on the upcoming ball, you were on cloud nine. almost as if he knew that you’ve rejected at least four boys that invited you.
suddenly becoming involved and interested in anything that revolved around the dance, looking out for a dress with enid, and wednesday was much more fun than you anticipated, asking yoko to help you out with make-up, and hair. you were ecstatic — happier than you’ve ever been.
it was finally your turn, after so much time of sulking, you got a chance.
at least you thought so. xavier thorpe has been your friends ever since your parents put you together in one crib, during a spontaneous meet-up with his. you were always there for him, hardly ever putting yourself before him. it wasn’t a shock, when you developed a crush, you could say it was expected.
and then, when he put down another of your offer to have at least one dance, you realized what was going on. your best friend wasn’t as happy as you, whenever the topic of the ball was brought up, changing it as soon as possible, he wasn’t keen on dancing, his mind definitely somewhere else. his eyes tracing around wednesday addams.
your heart clutched in your chest as you shifted in your chair, ready to stand up. “maybe you’d stop sulking if you asked her, instead of sitting here.” you rolled your eyes, the happiness far gone on your face. “do it. i’ll be outside if you were looking for me.” he just nodded his head in reply.
sneaking out noiselessly, you managed to climb upstairs to your dorm to quickly find a bottle of wine, you’d hit under your bed earlier. as soon as your dress touched the wooden floor, your eyes filled with tears — how couldn’t you think about it? even for a second? it was so painfully obvious that he was using you to get her jealous.
the bottle emptied pretty rapidly, but it wasn’t the only bottle you had hidden somewhere in your room. sobs, accompanied by the tunes of a song playing from a random, heartbreak playlist, filled the quiet room as you poured another glass of the liquid. you were just a pawn in his game, a small chapter that didn’t matter, not as much as he mattered to you.
you didn’t even think about washing off your makeup, as it only reminded you about the humiliation you faced after putting it on. you didn’t even put the dress back into the wardrobe, nor clean the empty bottles of your favorite wine.
yet, even though you were hurting so much, all you could do is wonder if he looked for you after your sudden disappearance, did he care enough to be at least a little worried, although you wouldn’t like to know the answer, it didn’t matter anyway.
when your roommate finally came back, her white dress soaked in red paint, she didn’t even care that your sheets would get stained, she didn’t even ask about the reason of your current state, she just pulled you into a hug, and didn’t let go for the next hours as you poured out your heart.
“why do i keep doing this? why do i keep running back to him, whenever he gets upset? why does it hurt so much, when i should’ve known it would end up like that.” you cried, head resting on her laps as you sipped the sweet liquid from the bottle. “will it ever be me?” you asked.
on the next day of classes, you weren’t really yourself. you were rarely bothered by anything, always trying to bring a good mood wherever you went, now — you were the complete opposite. earphones plugged in your ears with music blasting so loud that you barely heard your own thoughts, sunglasses resting at the bridge of your nose to hide the puffiness, and redness of your eyes, not even a single word coming out of your mouth.
“earth to y/n.” bianca tapped your shoulders lightly, grabbing your attention. you two weren’t exactly best friends — she was an ex-girlfriend of a boy you were so obviously interested in, yet you managed to hold everything in for the period of their relationship. “what happened between you, and xavier last night?” she asked, a worried expression painted all over her face.
bianca respected you more than anyone that could possibly be a threat to her relationship with thorpe, when they were still together. which was weird for anyone around you, knowing how inseparable the two of you could be, yet you never wanted to be the one to ruin their best friend’s relationship. so when bianca questioned your motives, not believing any of your words until you asked her to use the siren speak on you to learn the truth. that you backed out the second he told you, that you kept your feelings and affection for yourself.
“nothing.” you shrugged. “i was just a pawn to get wednesday’s attention, something i should’ve expected.” you cracked a sad smile, fixing the sunglasses on your nose. the girl seemed to be… shocked, a frown appearing on her face.
“he was unable to stop talking about you, when we were together yet now when he has a chance, he pulls out shit like that?” a sigh escaped from between her lips, arm threw over your shoulder. “i’ll swing by our room tonight, i’ll make sure you’ll be busy with something else.”
you smiled at the girl, accepting the offer, before she got back to her friend group. a notification popped up on the screen of your phone, a humorless laugh leaving your lips immediately.
xav: need 2 talk, my shack in 5?
as a rational human-being you were (with additional psychic abilities), you left him on read, and never stepped into his art studio. well, at first you were convinced to do it, but your legs decided upon going there — so again, you were running back to him whenever he wanted.
“hey.” you spoke out softly. “you said you needed to talk?” you added, the dim lighting of the room making him almost invisible. his head shot to you immediately, determination painted all over his face.
“where were you after you left?” his words sharply cut through the thick tension built around you. you were about to part your lips, and reveal yourself, when he added. “were you in the woods? that’s why you had to run away so fast? because you are the–”
so this is what it was all about — he didn’t want to see you to check if you were fine, he wanted to see you to investigate if you were the hyde that hurt eugene, and killed rowan. you let out a humorless chuckle, turning your back on him, ready to leave, though his hand gripped on your lower arm.
“so you are the hyde.” he stated, eyes burning with fury. “you left to run after eugene, because he found out about your little secret, so you had to cut ties?” his words incredibly pained you, cutting your heart like a knife, proceeded by stabbing.
you let out a long sigh, looking him dead in the eyes. “i was in my dorm, bawling my eyes out while drinking the wine my sister sent me, because my date didn’t even bother to look at me for a second, even though i spent my last savings to buy a dress, so maybe for once, he would look at me and think that i look pretty, that i did it for him.” you felt the tears filling up your eyes, yet you kept going. “i’ve spent the entire night, wondering when my role as a pawn in his game will end. and i’ve come to a conclusion that it won’t happen, there’s always gonna be someone above me in his hierarchy, even though we were friends for more than i can remember.” he let your arm out of the grip, a confused grimace on his lips. “why didn’t you just ask her? oh wait, i know, i’ve already been told why. you did ask her out, but she refused to go, because tyler invited her earlier, so i was just a getaway car as always.”
when he didn’t break the silence after you finished your monologue, you left, running away to the woods to gather your thoughts, and cry for the fifth time that day. you clearly weren’t in a mood to talk to anyone without a sip of wine. you felt invisible, when you found yourself a seat somewhere in the forest. you were sure that your roommate would ask the teachers to give you a sick day, firmly explaining what happened.
xav: yn,,, im sorry, can we talk it through?
you didn’t reply at all, starting to hold a silent grudge against him, for once, placing yourself before anyone else. until the classes were finished, you were walking around the woods, gathering herbs for your potions, trying to calm down.
throughout your whole life, you believed that your mom has linked your souls together at the very young age, so you could be some sort of anchor for each other, whenever something overwhelmed you, nonetheless it was a double-sided sword. he could mess you up to the point, where you had to take a calming potion (and vice versa), or he could be the one to calm you like no one other could.
so when the evening came, you found yourself dressed up in your favorite pjs, which some time ago belonged to your best friend (now it’s yours, of course), standing at the door leading to bianca’s dorm. two bottles of wine, hidden in the depth of your bag.
“i hope you bought more wine, she drank two and a half bottle last night.” your roommate laughed, arm wrapped around your shoulders as you walked into the room.
the time flew by as you emptied at least three bottles, and you were comfortably laying down on divina’s bed, covered in a blanket junpier brought with her. “he accused me of being the monster today.” you spoke out suddenly, changing the topic back to xavier, who endlessly occupied your mind. “and earlier, enid told me he actually asked wednesday to go with him, she just refused.”
“he really has no shame, has he?” bianca rolled her eyes, taking a seat next to you, and gave you the tightest hug it was only possible. “you know, the thing with wednesday will die down soon, and he’ll come back sooner than you think, he always does.” she planted a soft kiss on your forehead to make her words more believable.
“and if he doesn’t, which is doubtful, then you have us, we can find you someone.” divina joined you on the bed, a big smile spread over her face as she watched you let out a light chuckle. “maybe elliott, the werewolf? he’s pretty hot.”
you were cuddling for the rest of the night, sleeping in the most uncomfortable positions that ever existed, surrounded by blankets, and lots of pillows. after that night, full of drunk confessions, words of reassurance, cuddles and lots of wine, you felt confident enough to face xavier.
it happened sooner than you anticipated, you made your way downstairs to see him, waiting and knocking at the door, pale, and shaken up. “hey, looking for someone?” you asked, his large t-shirt hanging loosely on your body.
“yn, can we talk it through? please.” he asked, begged, watching as you walked into the room, and when you didn’t close the door, he took it as a sign to step. “we?” you scoffed. “let me explain myself.”
“i don’t know if i want to hear it.” you smiled at him, before mumbling something under your breath with a hand above a pack of cookies, changing it to a proper meal. “eat it, then we can talk.” you passed the dish to him, crossing your arms afterwards.
there was a thing about xavier that had always extremely infuriated you, ever since you were children. — he was terrible at taking proper care of himself, usually forgetting to have something to eat with him, whenever he went to his art studio. you’d always cast a spell on some of your snacks, you just bought in the city, to change it into something he liked, and then accidentally step by.
“i- i’m sorry that i made the dance miserable for you.” you leaned your back on your desk, eyebrows furrowed as you listened to him speak. “i really wanted to have fun with you, but i felt the presence of the monster there, near wednesday. it frustrated me to the point, where my mind went completely blank, ruining the dance not only for myself, but also for you.”
“and you’ve never been a pawn for me, you’ve always been present in the back of my mind, you are the factor that keep me sane, you’re the only person that brought so much happiness to my life.” he stood up from his seat, and walked towards you. his hands grabbing yours, softly, knuckles caressing it gently. “i’ve always been aware of my feelings for you, my heart has always belonged to you, and it always will, but i’m scared of losing you.”
“then why didn’t you call me, when i didn’t get back? why did you assume i was the monster? xavier, i beg you, stop trying to mess with my feelings, nothing adds up.” your tone was so quiet that the boy had to get even closer to hear it. “all i wanted was you to spend quality time with you, because you ditched me for wednesday a lot, since she got here, and i get that you can do whatever you want, so i was quiet about it, but even at the event you invited me to go with you?” seeing you so vulnerable made xavier’s heart clutch painfully in his chest. it was all, because of him, and he didn’t like a single bit of it.
“i wish everything was different, really. making you cry was the last thing i wanted to do, and you can hate me all you want, i deserve it for treating you like that.” he let out a long sigh. “but i just want you to know that it’s always been you, my head was always filled with your laughter, and memories of you.”
the closeness between you was overwhelming, taking your last senses from you, the same moment, when your best friend closed the gap, kissing you so delicately. feeling his lips on yours was infatuating, and enchanting, nonetheless, you pulled away, his forehead leaned on yours. “no, no, no. you can’t do that right now, not when i’m so angry with you. give me time, please.”
and with that, he stepped back with a simple nod, his eyes didn’t leave your face even for a second. “i’ll give you as much time as you need, i promise.” were the last words he has spoken before leaving your room.
for the next two weeks, three tops, you two barely exchanged a word, everyone around could sense the tension between, but you weren’t ready to talk to him as you still felt the pain from the dance. however, when wednesday announced that xavier was the hyde, you couldn’t believe it. none of these attacks were thorpe’s doing, and you were positive.
“i’ll curse the hell out of you, if you won’t let me see him.” you hissed at one of the cops, before he leaded you to the cell, where they kept your best friend, and seeing him in a state like that was destroying.
“yn?” shocked was painted on his face as you stepped into the room, a worried expression on yours. “it’s not me, i swear. please, someone set me up, please, you have to believe me.” his broken voice rang out in your ears as you nodded.
“hey, calm down and breathe for me, please.” you asked. “i’ll find a way to get you out of here, okay? everything’s gonna be fine, i’ll figure out whose doing it was, and you’ll be clear.” you sent him a reassuring, warm, and soo loving smile that all he could do was reciprocate it. “then, we can go out on a date, but you owe me so much wine, xavier thorpe that i don’t think you’ll be able to pay me back.”
when your time was up, you hang around the city for a while, thinking how could you get xavier out without breaking any laws that would put you there instead. grabbing a quick coffee from the weathervane, before coming back to the castle with xavier being your only thought.
you visited him thrice over the time, promising that if you don’t find the person who set him up, you’ll start breaking laws and free him within a blink.
you were surrounded by a crowd of people during the evacuation, caused by bringing joseph crackstone back to life. you were responsible for the spell that would keep everyone tranquil, and quiet in a place safe enough that the pilgrim’s actions wouldn’t reach.
and then, you noticed the boy you had feelings for, standing further away, making his way towards the crowd of people, and you couldn’t resist — you ran to him, throwing your hands around his neck, pulling him into a hug. when you backed off a few seconds later, your fingers running through his hair as you smiled so widely. “it’s you.” you chuckled lightly.
you remember everything that happened afterwards — mr. galpin handcuffing his son, the funeral the new principal threw for mrs. weens, brewing a potion for wednesday, so her scar from taking an arrow for bianca could heal faster, the end of the school year, and your date with xavier.
some would say you were reckless for not moving on from the blonde boy, some would bash you for giving him another chance, but you valued your friendship, and his presence in your life. so, it wasn’t a surprise for his housemates to see you at his door at one of the last nights of school year, dressed up in the comfiest clothes you had (which were, surprisingly, his).
you both decided that going out to a restaurant was unnecessary, and you could spend some quality time with each other in his room by eating a strawberry shortcake, drinking wine, and watching movies.
it was around first in the morning, when you finished ten things i hate about you, your head rested on his shoulder as you clung to his arm, being already a little tipsy. “i can’t believe you actually hadn’t watched my favorite movie before! julia stiles was so hot, and for what!” you giggled lightly, turning your head towards him.
“waited till i could watch it with you.” he tugged on a smile, and kissed you so sweetly that you felt like dying from the butterflies in your stomach. your fingers grabbed the collar of his shirt as he pulled you even closer, sitting you on his lips. “i love you.” xavier whispered in between the kisses, making your stomach burn on the inside.
it felt like a dream — to be kissed by a boy you pinned over so long, to have his hands on your waist, and hickies made by him on your neck, to be loved by him. even if it was a dream, the last thing you wanted was to wake up.
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kittyslvs · 4 months
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NOTHING NEW ; SATORU GOJO
pairing: satoru gojo x fem reader word count: 1k (1029) summary: she always gave him everything, and never received anything. mari´s note: i wrote this about two weeks ago, but i got stuck. maybe if i upload it, inspiration will come back to me and there will be a second part lmao
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After Suguru's incident, Satoru was never the same, it was logical. He felt alone and with no one to listen to his lament; a lie.
Lie, because y/n was always there for him; as his friend, as his lover for a few nights, as a classmate; but Satoru always took every sign of affection from the girl, and threw it away; because what she gives to him, means nothing. Nothing new to the young girl, but it ached in every nerve in her body just the same.
Y/N knew about this, but she always hoped that Gojo's attitude would change, and apparently after that, it did, apparently.
The white-haired man always called her at the end of the night, and she, hopeful that he would finally see what she had to give him, she always went, again and again; but she always came back with the thought of "tomorrow will be the day". It wasn't.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months; the hope and affection for him was waning. It seemed that y/n was the white-haired man's plaything of personal satisfaction and relief; y/n felt like shit, she felt that her personal worth was reduced to whatever a man wanted to give her, crumbs.
She had tried to talk to him about the situation, but the brave Satoru Gojo always evaded her, getting angry or ignoring her for days, only to call her back and go back to his routine.
At this point, she felt like a living dead, nothing new.
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the clock on her wrist read 1:50, she had no reason to be awake at that hour; if not for the "recent" argument with the boy. Her face was full of tears, her eyes swollen and her cheeks red; she blamed satoru, but more she blamed herself for allowing him to have that effect on her.
And the stupidest thing was that they had been there before, in that fight, in that moment. Honestly, y/n felt she no longer had dignity; she had lost it when she accepted his haughty attitude countless times.
Y/n grabbed her phone, wiped her tears and left her room on her way to the kitchen, her steps were slow and listless; she felt that if she stayed in her room a moment longer, she would die. For Satoru was so audacious to go to her house three nights ago, take her with fake "I love you's" and more to her room; but, he was drunk, she wouldn't do that with him being almost unconscious, that's when Satoru pushed her, throwing her to the bed and started to take out everything he had inside of him.
"Please 'toru, you're drunk" the girl spoke while holding his face, so that he would stare at her. "You can barely stand on your own."
Apparently the latter was the worst insult for Satoru, who stared at her with rage in his eyes, took a few steps back and pushed the girl, who fell on her bed, surprised by the man's reaction.
"Don't you dare say that, I can hold my own, I can do everything by myself" as he spoke he staggered softly and pointed at her with anger and repudiation. "I am not like you… Of course not, I'm not a person who can't stand on his own, who needs someone to give him false declarations of love to feel enough. I will never be you." As his words went on, so did the woman's tears run down her cheeks. Although Satoru's voice was slightly stuttering, he could not hide his hatred for the young woman.
Seconds passed in silence, Y/n staring painfully at Satoru, as he stood in front of her face; the man sketched a smile and grabbed her cheeks, being drunk and angry he did not mediate his strength.
"Look at you, youre weak, I am your weakness and I always will be. No matter how many times I use you and discard you at dawn; you will always return to my call, isn't that sweet?" He ended with a chuckle as he roughly wiped away the young girl's tears.
Y/n felt humiliated by her great love. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and with the little strength she had, she removed her dirty hands from his face, took her own hands to that area, backed as far as she could on her bed and began to whisper.
"Get out of here..." she could barely understand herself, but she knew that he was listening to her, who only approached her with slow steps and a smile on his face.
"I didn't hear you, can you repeat that?" he spoke with sarcasm in his voice, thanks to the liquor in his system.
The young woman gritted her teeth and smeared her nails on the palm of her hand, to look at him with the same hatred he was directing at her.
"I said go away!" she shouted as she threw a pillow at the man's face. "You're not strong, you're nobody to come and say all that to me and in my own house! Or don't you remember who was there for you after what happened with Suguru? Who was feeding you? Because you were so depressed you could hardly speak. Or that you don't remember" finally y/n was able to respond to his attack. "You and I are the same, Satoru" She finished by unburdening herself a little with him, who had a face of stupefaction and regret. They spent a few minutes in that position, both standing there staring at each other, with many things to say but not wanting to fight anymore.
Y/n broke the silence, with a whisper-like murmur, his voice trembling from the crying produced by the albino.
"I think you'd better leave, Gojo" he in response turned on his heels and walked out of her room, then out of her house. And that was when she was finally able to let out her pent-up emotions, crying for a long time.
She still couldn't believe Gojo's cynicism, and it pained her to know that everything he said was true, "drunks and children don't lie".
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arachne4 · 3 months
Note
oooo how about wesker does catch you trying to escape again (kinda like a sequel to the spanking fic) and he just. Fucks you (up) (painfully but in a sexy way ya know??) with uroboros tendrils, maybe even more brutal spanking/smacking involved 😳
yan!wesker x female!reader
Looks like you didn't learn the first time.
Tw: NONCON! READER DOES NOT WANT THIS! ) uroboros/tentacles, spanking, punishment, humiliation, forced immobility, heavy degradation, praise, pet names, obsessive Wesker, possessive Wesker, use of master
"I'm assuming your last lesson had no effect on you. It's a pity really. I thought you were making some progress." Weskers voice echoed in your ears, the thinly veiled anger you heard terrified you to no end.
"I'm sorry, Wesker-"
"Save it. You must be out of your mind if you think apologies will save you now." Wesker sat on his knees behind you, in-between your spread legs. Your ass unwillingly perked up into the air as he stared at you like prey.
"I warmed you this would happen, did I not? I told you it would be even worse the second time, didn't I dearheart?" He sighed, the familiar feeling of leather on your ass could be felt as he ran his hands up your bare thighs and over the globes of your rear.
Staying silent, you just close your eyes, expecting a longer spanking.
But oh, you had sorely regretted underestimating him.
Instead his hand slid between your legs, running his fingers over your embarrassingly slicked up slit.
"Does it get you wet when your master punishes you? Is that why you ran away again? Oh you're so pathetic..." That familiar drawl in his voice made you squirm, your whines muffled into the pillows.
"Quiet. You need to learn your lesson." His large hand spanked you right in between the legs. You flinched forward, crying out as he smacked your pussy. Embarrassingly, you felt your juices run down your thighs.
"What? You thought I was just gonna do the same thing again? Oh no, no I've got something much better in mind than that." Long fingers ran through your pussy lips, running over your clit before pulling away.
"Albert... please..."
"Begging already? But we've just gotten started, darling."
---
A few more spanks later, you hadn't paid attention to how many, and you were crying. Tears ran off your face and into the pillows he cruelly forced your head into. And then he stopped, he pulled his hand off your aching pussy.
But then you heard the click of his belt buckle coming undone.
"no- nono no Wesker please-! I won't do it again Albert-! Please-!" You try and crawl away from him but it's futile. Tentacles sprout out of his arms, pulling you back into your position. No matter how much you thrash, they won't let go, forcing you back on all fours.
"Now, now, darling. It was your fault for running away. And I intend on punishing you how you deserve." His clothed bulge pressed against your pussy and holy shit did it feel big. He was going to tear you apart.
He pulled down his boxers enough for his leaking cock to spring out. Grabbing the base, he guided it towards your pussy, running the head up and down your slit. From how wet you were, his tip slipped in by itself, already stretching you. His hips bucked forwards, forcing a few inches deeper into your wet heat.
"Albert-!"
"Quiet. You don't get to complain when you decided to misbehave. If you would've just stayed here with me-" He choked on his words, sinking his cock deeper into you as you squeezed him. "Then I wouldn't have to take you like this."
After a little while, his cock was fully sunk into you. And that wasn't even the worst part of this whole punishment.
What was worse was when you felt small tendrils snake down to your clit. Flicking your overstimulated bud. Wesker started thrusting his hips too, making your brain a fuzzy, lightheaded mess. You couldn't even tell what was going on, just how good you felt. It was almost sickening how you felt, how you liked it when your captor split you open.
"take it, that's it, take it all."
"Albert- fuck it feels so good.." You choked out, feeling him hit that one spot that made you go limp. You slumped down, uroboros holding you up enough for Wesker to keep up his rough pace. And you were oh so close to cumming. That pressure in your stomach building and building till it burst.
But instead of white hot pleasure washing over you, everything stopped. The tendrils stopped moving, same with Weskers hips, and now all you could feel was him inside you. You whined, bucking your hips back into his hoping to feel like that again, but it wasn't even close.
"What? Did you think you were gonna get to cum? Your punishments only getting started, darling."
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mellowsadistic · 13 days
Text
The Magician's Game - Chapter 12
Abby didn’t enjoy her first morning as a woman with no bladder or bowel control. She let out an ear-piercing shriek when she woke up to find the big-breasted ‘Nanny’ from the day before bending over her with a finger slipped inside the leg-band of her soaking wet night-time diaper.
“Don’t be frightened, sweetie,” the woman cooed. “Nanny’s just checking your nappy. It looks like someone made lots of wee-wees during beddy-byes, didn’t she? Yes she did! Yes she did! Wittle Abby-wabby’s got a very soggy bum-bum!”
Abby felt herself burning with humiliation. “You can’t tawk to me wike dat!” she squealed, sitting up in bed and feeling her clammy wet diaper squishing unpleasantly beneath her. It was only then that she realised her thumb was in her mouth. She yanked it out at once.
The woman tittered. “You’re a big baby who can’t even wipe her own bottom, sweetie,” she said. “I can talk to you however I like.” Her motherly expression turned a little more sinister. “And if I don’t like your tone, I could leave you in that nasty nappy all day, no matter how wet and messy you make it. Is that what you want?”
Abby went cold. She couldn’t change herself. If she didn’t do what this bitch said then she’d have to stay in this disgusting thing for who knows how long – and she needed to keep her mind on the challenge today, not on the state of her pants. This would be the final one, the most important of all, her last and only chance to get back to normal and avoid the Magician’s sick, twisted punishments. And if she won, she’d get three wishes. Anything she wanted!
Her lower lip stuck itself out in a pout. “Sowwy Nanny,” she mumbled meekly.
Nanny smirked. “Good girl. Now let’s get that yucky-wucky diapee off your cute little tushy!”
Abby’s second nappy change as an adult was no less humiliating than her first. Nanny took her sweet time, making sure to coo at her in sickeningly sweet baby talk and tickle her tummy at random intervals. “P-U!” she cried theatrically, pinching her nose as she held up Abby’s sodden, yellowed diaper. “This icky thing is absolutely soaked! What a little pee-pee pants you are, Abby! I’d never have guessed you used to be a sexy, grown-up woman. You look just like a smelly little baby to me!”
Abby cringed and clenched her eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds of Nanny’s taunts as the older woman got to work wiping her clean with a pack of baby wipes.
“And here’s a nice, new nappy,” Nappy said happily, slipping one under Abby’s bottom, “for the next time you need to make a pee-pee, or drop a stinky load in your pants.”
Abby couldn’t prevent a pathetic, whimpering sob from leaving her lips as Nanny finished taping a fresh diaper around her waist. But at least it was over. Nanny helped her off the bed and got her dressed – tugging a pair of white, semi-translucent tights over her bulging diaper-butt and pulling a tight pink t-shirt over her bare chest. Her tits were constrained almost painfully in the tiny thing. A pair of frilly socks, black schoolgirl shoes, and a bonnet later, and Abby was fully dressed for the day.
Nanny escorted her, toddling, to the kitchen, where Becky and the Magician were already seated. In front of Becky, and in front of the large highchair that was awaiting Abby, were two enormous bowls full of baby food. Feeling sick, but knowing there was much worse at stake, Abby allowed herself to be sat in the highchair and fed the bland-tasting mush. She barely even fussed as Nanny pushed spoonful after spoonful against her lips, smearing her lower face. She was too busy worrying about what the final challenge would be.
Becky, too, was nervous. She spooned her meal into her mouth by herself. At least she didn’t need someone to feed her, she thought, looking up at the mess the busty woman was getting all over her fellow contestant’s pretty face. She didn’t want to end up like that. It was bad enough being incontinent. She turned red as she remembered how she’d woken up that morning, right in the middle of messing her nappy. How could she ever think of herself as an adult if she was doing that all the time?! She couldn’t stand the thought of spending even one more day in diapers! She didn’t want to be an overgrown, pants-filling baby anymore! She wouldn’t, she couldn’t, spend the rest of her life waddling around in smelly Pampers like some horrid brat in daycare. She forced herself to get through the bowl of baby food, even knowing it would bring about a messy nappy sooner rather than later – it would be the last, she told herself firmly.
Once Becky was finished eating, and Nanny was slipping the last few spoonfuls of mush into Abby’s mouth, the Magician got to his feet. His handsome smile was more terrifying than ever. “Alright girls,” he said, the awful bright light dancing once again in his eyes. “It’s time for the fourth and final challenge. Three silly young ladies have already headed off to live their new, and much altered lives, and now it’s time to find out which of you will be joining them in their fates, and which will earn herself three wishes. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that unless you win, the changes you have at the moment will be permanent.” He savoured the last word, and Abby and Becky both shivered. “The final challenge,” he continued, “is very simple. The two of you will have a competition to see who can act the most babyish over the next few hours. The one who I decide has been the silliest, most ridiculous overgrown baby will win my little game.”
Abby and Becky stared at him wide-eyed, their mouths open. They could only win their adulthood back by outcompeting the other at being a stupid baby?!
The Magician cocked his head at them. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, grinning.
The two young women looked at one another, and then Becky immediately got off her chair and dropped to her hands and knees, babbling in meaningless baby talk. “Goo goo gah bah bah!” she prattled, dribbling down her chin. She started crawling over to the Magician.
Feeling mortified, Abby imitated Becky and hastily extracted herself from her highchair and sank onto all fours too. “Gah gah buh buh buh!” she babbled, drooling down her own chin and crawling towards the Magician herself. She could see the evil satisfaction in his face as he watched them approach.
Becky reached him first. She plopped back on her diapered bottom and looked up at him with her best, desperate, puppy-dog eyes. She raised her hands into the air and made little clenching movements. “Up!” she squealed. “Uppies, Dada!”
The Magician laughed delightedly. He reached down and, with surprising strength, lifted the babbling baby-woman into his arms, settling her on his hip and holding her tightly against himself. Then he looked appraisingly down at Abby, who had just reached his feet.
Abby sat back on her nappy, and was about to mimic Becky again when she stopped. That wouldn’t work. She couldn’t just do whatever Becky was doing – she’d lose for sure that way. She’d have to do something else. A loud, childish temper tantrum seemed like a good idea, as if she was jealous of Becky getting held instead of her. The sick freak would undoubtedly like that. She hated the Magician. She hated him more than anyone else in the world for what he’d done to her, for what he was making her do. But he was dangerous, and she’d play along with his perverted fantasies if it meant winning his insane game. She was a little girl who wanted her Daddy’s undivided attention, she told herself, and that stupid little brat Becky was stealing him away from her!
She hardly had to pretend. The changes the Magician had made to her the day before had ruined her ability to control her emotions like an adult. Angry that Becky was already beating her, and terrified of the consequences if she lost, the tears came in no time at all. Her bottom lip wobbled beneath her thumb, and Abby started to wail. She scrunched up her beautiful face, tears pouring down her cheeks, sobbing hysterically and taking great heaving breaths as she pounded her free hand petulantly against the floor. “WAAAAAAAAAH!” she wailed. “I WANT MY DADA!”
Suddenly, she felt his powerful arm scooping her up, supporting her under her thickly padded bottom and holding her close against his chest, just as he was doing with Becky. “Shhhh,” the Magician hushed her gently, and Abby actually felt a pleasant tingle run down her spine at the unexpected gentleness of his voice. “Shhhh, it’s okay, baby. There, there… Daddy’s here, little one. Daddy’s got you.” The Magician carried them out of the kitchen and further into the house, into a brightly decorated playroom littered with baby toys.
He set them down on the soft, carpeted floor, and Abby immediately got to work. With some difficulty, she yanked off her tight t-shirt and started bouncing and shaking her boobies, giggling like she’d found her new favourite toys. She could feel the Magician’s eyes on her, and she blew a dribbly raspberry that made a line of drool to spill down onto her bare breasts.
Becky started to strip as well, but her adult clothes were harder to remove while she was sitting on the floor. An idea occurred to her, and she looked up, pouting at the Magician. “Wanna be nakie giwl!” she cried.
Chuckling, the Magician knelt down and started taking off Becky’s jeans and tank top, until she too was dressed in nothing but her nappy, her perky tits wobbling stupidly on her chest as she crawled around the room playing with the infantile toys.
They played for some time, working as hard as they could to keep the looks of childish idiocy on their faces while they bashed blocks together, shook rattles, and snuggled with teddy bears. Abby didn’t even have to fake it – after only a few shakes of a rattle she was staring at it avidly, cooing and gurgling, utterly entranced. It sounded so pretty and tinkly! Pretty, tinkly sound… She might have sat there all day playing with her rattle, had she not gotten the sudden, overpowering urge to shove it in her mouth. She came to her senses the moment before it happened, blushing scarlet at the thought of how enamoured she’d been by this stupid baby toy (she had to get back to normal), but there was nothing she could do to stop her body cramming the rattle between her lips and sucking on it enthusiastically. Her eyes rolled back into her head with pleasure.
Right at that moment, Abby’s bladder released without warning, and she felt her diaper getting soggier and soggier beneath her bottom as she pissed into it helplessly. It felt revolting, but she made sure to keep a blank, babyish look on her face as the front of her nappy discoloured. The Magician was surely watching for any sign of un-babyish behaviour, and babies didn’t care if they went pee-pee. She popped the rattle out of her mouth and let out another stream of ridiculous baby babble. But then, as she started crawling over to a large, fluffy teddy bear, something else happened. Something more than pee. For the second time in her adult life, Abby’s bowel’s rumbled into action beyond her control. Before she could really register what was about to happen, it was already happening. Her mouth opened in a perfect ‘o’ shape as an enormous yucky mess filled her diaper, making her padded pants sag halfway down her thighs with the weight of her load.
Meanwhile, a few feet away, exactly the same thing was happening to Becky. She was more used to the sensation of her pants filling with poop without warning, but it didn’t make it any less disgusting. Still, as poo-poo filled her nappy, she was able to keep her face relatively blank and dopey, as though she’d barely even realised what had happened. A grown woman who couldn’t even tell when she messed herself – the Magician would love that, she was sure.
Although she was trying as hard as she could, unlike Becky, Abby wasn’t able to keep the look of revulsion off her face. She knew the Magician must have seen. Babies didn’t think sitting in dirty diapers was disgusting. They didn’t care. She had to do something to make up for her mistake, and quickly. She had no idea when the challenge might end! Putting on her best bratty, mischievous face, Abby grinned up at the Magician. She hated him with all her heart. She knew she would never be able to look at herself the same way in the mirror after what she was about to do, but if it meant avoiding a terrible, terrible fate, it would be worth it. She sat back firmly on her full nappy, feeling the horrible mess in her pants squish against her bottom. It took all her self-control not to gag. Then, with a moronic giggle, she started bouncing up and down on her bum, squealing loudly and clapping her hands.
Becky watched, but didn’t move. She could see the Magician looking at her, waiting to see whether she’d copy Abby. But she couldn’t… she couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t stand it! The mess beneath her bottom was so disgusting! She couldn’t bounce up and down on it like some mucky baby! Those were the worst kind of diapers she had to change at daycare, the ones where the awful little urchins decided to make the mess in their pants even messier, and make the job of cleaning them up an absolute nightmare for her. The other daycare workers, the stupid women who’d chosen to look after smelly, snot-nosed brats as their whole career, actually thought it was cute when the babies “made bouncies”. But Becky found it nauseating, and the idea of doing it herself was out of the question.
“All right, little ones,” the Magician said suddenly. “I’ve made my decision.”
They both stopped what they were doing and looked up at him fearfully. The Magician took each of them by the hand and pulled them to their feet. The two women stood there, tits out, legs pushed awkwardly apart by their full, sagging nappies, waiting for his judgement. The evil man looked at Abby, who felt her stomach lurch horribly, and then he turned his gaze to Becky. Abby was trembling. Was he going to tell Becky that she’d lost, or that she’d won?
“Sorry Becky,” the Magician said, “but I’ve decided little Abby was the most babyish, and that means, unfortunately, that you’re the loser.”
Abby took a deep breath. Wonderful relief was flooding through her body.
Becky, however, was shaking. “No…” she whispered, so quietly that Abby barely heard her.
“I don’t know what you were planning to do with your life, Becky,” said the Magician pleasantly, advancing on the quivering girl. “Maybe you were planning to go to law school, or train as a doctor, or maybe you just wanted to live an average life, but I’m afraid whatever it was, it won’t be happening now. You’ll be spending the rest of your days as a diaper-dependent adult toddler, a grown woman who stomps about with a smelly, loaded nappy swinging about between her legs. You’ll be dependent on real adults to check and change you, of course… and I know just the place to send you.” He waved his hand lazily, and a canary yellow frock with a smiling cartoon bee on the front appeared on Becky’s body.
Slowly, stiffly, Becky looked down at her new clothes, and recognised the uniform of the Buzzy Bees baby class at the daycare where she worked. Her poopy diaper was peeking out of the bottom.
Becky lost her mind. She started screaming at the top of her lungs, clutching her head in her hands, her eyes wide and horrified.
Abby stared at the woman in horror, but the Magician just chuckled, as if the sight of the twenty-year-old woman’s mental breakdown was merely amusing to him. Becky looked utterly mad. She was screaming inarticulately, and staring straight ahead of her, as though she could see something they couldn’t – as if she was looking at her own future laid out in front of her, a life of stinky nappies and baby food and naptimes, a life stuck in nursery school forever, trapped in the one place she’d wanted desperately to get away from. In a way, she was getting what she wanted – she’d never have to change another dirty diaper again. She’d be too busy filling them. Becky screamed and screamed and screamed.
“That’s enough of your little tantrum, missy,” said the Magician, still sounding amused. “Time for you to go and join your new peers.” He snapped his fingers, and Becky vanished.
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nyonyen · 13 days
Text
NSFW ALPHABET - randal
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AO3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
inseparable, attached to you like a damn lamprey (mouth included)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
randal loves his tongue and how uncomfortable it makes you when he tries to lick your eyeballs he loves your stomach, he never fails to make you painfully aware that there’s only so much separating your insides from the outside
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
as for any hentai obsessed scum, he wants it all over you, no place uncovered. he’ll milk himself dry to make his own bukkake hentai, you know?
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
is there anything dirty about him that he keeps secret? well, maybe that he tends to prefer bottoming, or at least being forced into submission
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
hell naw. he-hell naw. randal’s nge doujinshis do not have any anatomical knowledge that could help!
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
spooning 100%, especially when you’re still asleep. just slip it to the side… it’s very convenient, and lets him easily breathe down your neck
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he’s neither serious nor unserious, he just is
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
plucks each hair out with a pair of tweezers because it’s funny
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
full blown obsession. randal likes to call himself a yandere type when it comes to you, and is he wrong?
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
whenever the time arises, which is often, he plants himself face first, ass up, and jerks it crazy style
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
literally anything humiliating he is game for, receiving & giving. he also has a thing for making other people watch… forced voyeurism? he’s quite thankful for the hierarchy poster
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
in the woods, and in his coffin
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
nosebleeds, upskirt shots in anime (ecchi ecchi!), online arguments… what doesn’t get randal going?
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
uh…
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
in a perfect world, every time would be a 69, that’s his attitude towards it. addicted to fucking your face, and having you suffocate him
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
incredibly rough, no matter the speed
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
since his opinion on cum is quite… extreme, it is a bit hard to do quickies. however, when has that ever stopped randal?
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
duh. if there’s something erotic randal doesn’t know about, he’d be surprised
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
as long as it takes, that’s his prerogative!
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
addicted to toys. if there’s anything that can make you and him squirm beyond belief, he needs to have it. he’s partial to bunny vibes
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
teasing is randal’s middle name (probably). will deny you orgasms constantly, but rarely follows through. you just look so cute when you cum!
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
the loudest ever. luther scolds him day in and day out, but he physically can’t hold back. maybe gags are something you should explore?
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
draws doujins of you and him. it's incredibly cringy, but man... he definitely memorized your body. look at the detail!
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
5-inch, curved to the side (we know why)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
insatiable. utterly insatiable, so please watch out for internal bruising, okay?
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
relishes in watching you sleep, so it depends on whether or not he wants to continue the pleasure in a shared dream :)
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greensimp · 7 months
Text
Gyutaro x Human!Reader: You Think He's Dead and Attempt to Save Him
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WC - 1.7K
TW - Graphic descriptions of gore, angst, sads, language, death
A/N - idk felt sads today
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No…. no no no no no…
Your chest tightened painfully as horror filled your features. He had told you to stay away from this fight, but you couldn’t stay away. Your worry for him was certainly going to be the end of you one day. What could you do about the threat if Gyutaro couldn’t even handle it? You’re a simple human, destined to die far before Gyutaro’s natural lifespan makes its end.
Blood and gore surround you, glistening under the moonlight, a scene straight from a horror novel. At first, you couldn’t recognize who the viscera belonged to. Your head felt faint, bile trying to shoot up to your throat. You prayed to whatever god was listening that it wasn’t who you thought it was. Your beloved was one of the strongest beings in existence! There was no way he could lose to whatever had challenged him.
Then you found it.
You refused to accept it until you held it in your hands.
Tremors seized you as what you held in your palm lay limp and lifeless, merely a remnant of the thing you cherish the most in this world.
A tuft of green and black, stained with blood, stares back at you with a confirmation you desperately want to deny.
The bile in your throat finally breaches as you empty your stomach onto the ground in front of you.
This wasn’t real. You told yourself that it was all a bad dream and that you’d wake up.
You barely noticed the distant sounds of crushing blows and fighting as you just sat on your knees and heaved. You were still very much in the middle of a battlefield, it seemed. Was Daki still struggling? Did she know about the condition of her brother?
Once you had nothing else to vomit, you squeezed your eyes shut with the tuft of hair still in your hand and let out a strained sob. The acid that passed through your esophagus made your voice hoarse, but that just made the loss evermore apparent in your wails.
Maybe you should move. Maybe you should run. Maybe you should look for a place to hide. But what does it matter anymore? The only thing that ever mattered was him. Could you accept that he was gone? Would you?
You tried to look forward through watery eyes, only to flinch and let out another cry of anguish.
A disembodied arm lay only several feet away from you. While blurry, the tone of the skin only confirmed your new reality even further.
Without much thought, you crawled through the slick, bloodstained grass. Then, once close enough, you shakily, yet desperately reach out to the arm.
The arm that once held you closer than any mother to their child.
The arm you once felt rubbing your back while you fell ill to a suspicious seafood dish.
The arm you once held while watching dozens of fireworks wash you both with brilliant colors.
The arm you’ll never feel draped over your mid-section as you awaken from slumber ever again.
Gyutaro’s attention immediately snaps from the “fight” to a strange sensation he felt far away. He could tell something had gripped one of his body parts, but his ability to pinpoint exactly which one was limited based on the proximity of his actual consciousness.
Over the past hour, he and Daki had been humoring a lower moon that had the audacity to challenge them for the Upper Moon Six title.
Well, humoring would be a bit inaccurate.
They’re humiliating the wretched creature.
In perfect tandem, thanks mostly due to a partially shared consciousness, they played trick after degrading trick on the challenger. This final one was making them think they’d been getting the upper hand by defeating Gyutaro. He allowed himself to be reduced to viscera, the challenger none the wiser of the secret the sibling shared.
If one is standing, the other will never die.
The finale to this fight , which is quickly becoming boring to the siblings, would be Daki luring them back to Gyutaro’s “corpse,” only for Gyutaro to quickly reassemble himself and instill that one final blow to the lowly demon’s ego before ending their pathetic undead life.
At least… that WAS the plan.
Gyutaro curiously allowed for a portion of his consciousness to re-animate an eyeball that had been flown across the forest floor to see what was touching him.
….shit….
While slightly blurry, he could make out enough of a scene to make his heart drop.
Of course, you hadn’t listened to him. You were stubborn.
He wanted to be angry in the moment, and he may have been. However, the jarred movements you were making while hugging his severed arm close to your bloody kimono only filled him with guilt.
What’s worse? You’re covered in his blood. His vile, venomous blood. Even a micro cut could allow his poison to infect you.
“Change of plans, Daki. Cut the bug’s pathetic life short.”
Before she could even question him, his presence was absent from her body.
Daki paused, falling to the ground from the tree branch she was perched on. The other demon growled and dropped a few meters in front of her.
“Finally done running, bitch? Just cause your abomination of a brother is currently a red mist on the ground doesn’t mean I’m done with you-“
“Yeah yeah, sure, listen. I don’t have time to babysit you anymore, kay?”
Not even a second later, without giving them an opportunity process what she just said, six pink obi belts came from every direction and impaled the demon’s body.
“Have fun watching the sunrise, bug.”
Angry, pained gurgling sounds followed as Daki began to walk away. With a belt coming out of the back of their throat and through their mouth, they couldn’t spit any more bile. They’re done for.
An idea emerged from your irrational and erratic mind. Maybe… maybe it wasn’t over. Not just yet. You were desperate and unwilling to accept his death.
You stared down at the lifeless arm when a memory shot through your thoughts.
He can regenerate, right? The more humans he eats, the stronger he becomes. What if you… what if you could feed him somehow?
You had very little understanding of how demons worked. Gyutaro tries to keep that life away from you as much as he can.
You hurriedly looked around, hope filling your chest when you find a sharp stone laying within arms reach of you. You quickly grab it, bring it to your wrist, and…
“You wanna die?!”
Before you could register the familiar voice that came from seemingly every direction, a foot kicked the stone out of your grasp and into the brush.
The action worked like a flashbang, sound appearing to not exist as your frozen body is unable to process anything.
After what felt like minutes, but may have actually been moments, your head snapped up to find the owner of the foot, only for your eyes to widen in horror once more.
A pair of disembodied legs, while obviously belonging to Gyutaro, lacked the rest of their owner. Yet, they stood in front of you, as lively as though they were a part of a whole person. The flesh exposed where the abdomen would begin was writhing in a rapid and grotesque manner.
“Wh-wha-“
“Stupid girl! This is why I told ya to stay at home!”
Suddenly the arm in your grasp was ripped from you by an invisible force.
Then, various masses of flesh seemed to enter a vacuum and return to fit a complex puzzle that was the rest of his body.
What looked like it should take hours happened in mere moments. The abdomen, the torso, the arms, then finally, the head…
The eyes that bore into yours with what appeared to be blinding rage.
The eyes you never thought you’d gaze upon ever again.
Your eyes became misty, slight disbelief being the only thing keeping you from tackling him in an embrace.
He looked to be screaming, but all you heard was the melodic sound of his living voice. The confirmation that your love was still here.
“Are you listening to me?! Ya realize how dangerous the stunt you pulled was?! HUH?!”
Was he mad? Maybe. Was he scared? Definitely. He just witnessed you almost poison yourself in vain. He couldn’t fathom your stupidity, but he had realized in the moments before you sliced you skin just how easily you could be ripped away from him. Even your own hands were a threat.
“You woulda died! And I coulda done NOTHIN’ ABOUT IT!! You’re a HUMAN! A WEAK HUMAN!”
A weak human he can’t live without.
“DO YA NEVER THINK BEFORE YA DO THINGS?! DO YA- OOF-“
His fit was interrupted by the entirety of your body weight being flung at him with great force. He stumbled backward as you clung to him, eventually sending him falling on his back.
Still stunned, he stared down at your form in surprise. You had begun wailing into his chest as if your life hinged on the strength of your lungs.
Feeling the adrenaline dissipating, the realization sunk in deep.
You genuinely believed he was dead.
He saw how broken you would be if he were to really die.
You need him just as much as he needs you.
He hadn’t realized his hands were shaking until he went to hold you closer.
“Hey…”
You couldn’t hear him. All you could do was desperately cling to him.
“M’not goin anywhere, calm down-“
He peeled you off of him and held you up by your shoulders, forcing you to look at his face.
It was then that you finally tried to speak, barely able to hiccup through your tears.
“I *hic* I-I- thought- *hic* I-“
“I know, I know-“
He couldn’t watch anymore, returning your body to his chest where you can cling to him again.
It was a strange feeling to be needed so much. Never in his lives has he ever been needed like this outside of his sister. It was something he never thought would come to be real.
Yet here is his fairytale. You.
The only person he could ever trust with his heart as much as he could with Daki.
You no idea how sacred or how intertwined you had become with his own.
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nahoney22 · 1 year
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Jealous? It’s Obvious
Tech X F!Reader
word count: 3k
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You didn’t think jealousy was in your nature. But when a new arrival attempts to make a move on Tech, your jealousy is more than obvious.
Warnings: spoilers season 2 episode 1. Jealous reader, mutual pining. slight angst, mentions of injury but finished with fluff. Not proofread, a little rushed and not my best work ngl
Masterlist
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All in all, that mission could have gone a lot worse. The cargo was received and nobody was harmed perhaps aside from Echo’s ego as you had a little stumble.
You’re walking alongside Omega, heading into Cid’s parlor which was pretty much a new home to you all. After all, it seemed like you never left. But, Cid wasn’t the only one in her small ‘office’ if you could call it that.
A woman was lazed on her chair, legs placed lazily on the desk and a drink in her hand. You already felt wary about the new arrival, especially when you hear that she already seemed to know about the Batch being a bunch of rogue clones being hunted from the empire. You liked Cid, though in your mind it was still questionable if she could be trusted thoroughly.
You stayed quiet for the most part, letting the others take lead in the conversation but as Phee - you learned her name to be - drew near, you couldn't help but be a little more on edge.
When she comments on the ‘quality of control’ of them you have to bite your tongue from saying anything. There have been many times when others have mocked the Clones for how they appeared and it never sat right with you. Despite it seeming not at all vicious in her tone, you still didn’t like it.
“Hey now. Got a name, brown eyes?”
You had to do a double-take as she addressed one of the Batchers and when you saw it was Tech, there was a horrible and tight feeling in your chest. You looked away instantly, jaw clenched tight and your arms tucked behind your back to hide your name shaking hands.
It was clear as day what it was; jealousy. A feeling you had never felt before yourself but to see the man you like getting hit on, it was painful. It shouldn’t affect you nor should you hold Tech back about pursuing something. But, it was fairly clear to everyone but him that you had harbored feelings for him. A lot. Your mind was whirling and you were doing your utmost to block everything out.
Then, you felt a nudge at your side and turned your head to see Hunter giving you an odd look. “Don’t worry.” He mouths quietly, sensing the quick drop in your heart rate.
You gave him an appreciative nod but was a little relieved to hear that Tech did not flinch to her advances.A veryTech thing to do. Which is probably why he never got the hint that you had feelings for him. Then again, you yourself never had the courage to pursue it.
“Oh? This one here didn’t like me calling you that, brown eyes.”
If you weren’t agitated before, you were now. Your body stiffens as you see Phee looking directly at you, smug. You’re doing your utmost to seem unfazed but as she saunters to you and slips an arm over your shoulder, blood is draining from your face. “What’s the matter girly? This one your boyfriend?”
She turns you both to face Tech who now just looked as puzzled as ever. His eyes latch onto your face, painted in humiliation, but you didn’t dare even look back at him. You could not confess your feelings like this - not at all.
“No.”
Phee raises a brow. “No? Seems to me there is something there.” She laughs, the others not joining in and just felt as painfully awkward as you did. “What’s your name beautiful?”
There was hesitance on your half, head looking to the side as you mumbled your name to her. She repeats it aloud, nodding her head slowly and gazes back to Tech. “She isn’t your girlfriend?”
“No, but she is a valid and strong member of this squad and I doubt she appreciates-.”
“None of them are my boyfriend.” You snap this time, cutting off Tech but look right at her with a face of thunder. She doesn’t seem taken aback by your abruptness and rather revels in it.
“Good! Looks like I can get to know brown eyes more then.” She pats your shoulder once and slips away as if to get a rise out of you.
You return to stand beside Hunter as she then moves onto Wrecker and subtly, Hunter places a hand to your upper back as if it was a sign of comfort.
Though you felt like you didn’t need comforting you still felt the tears prick to the corners of your eyes. With a gaze strong on you, you side-glance to Tech to see him watching you with an unreadable expression. The second your eyes had met, you looked away and cursed silently as a small tear slipped down your cheek. Once the briefing was done, where you didn’t even clock onto the new missions details, you fled Cid’s office.
Tech had never seen you so uncomfortable before and he was not certain if he had imagined you crying or not. You’re often well relaxed, carefree and never get emotional. So why was this time different? Why was Phee’s questioning about your relationship with him something that set tears to your eyes.
He is stumped, fearing that it could have been perhaps something he said. He would never admit it himself but he always valued your thoughts and fairly valued your looks too.
Many times he had been distracted in his work because you would walk by or give him a cup of caf. He just didn’t know that it was because he had developed feelings for you. But seeing as Phee clearly thought that the two of you were in a relationship, maybe you felt the same?
When you’re all back on the ship, having agreed to this mission if it meant more freedom, you’re with Omega in the gunners mount. She had hair overheard Echo talking about her and as you tried to console her, she then turned the comfort back on you.
“Have you spoken to Tech?”
The sudden question made you blink in surprise and there was a little jitter in your tummy at the mention of his name. “No, why should I?”
Omega smiles sadly at you, noticing your ‘unbothered’ reaction. “Because you were jealous that Phee was flirting with him.”
“Maybe.” You grumble, pulling your legs to your chest. “It wasn’t that obvious was it?”
“I don’t think Tech noticed.” She shrugs, head tilting and resting on Lula. “But at least he brushed her off.”
That was true. When you were trying to ignore the steam hissing out your ears, you overheard him discussing the pigmentation to the Clones eyes. But, if someone as pretty as Phee doesn’t sway him… how could you?
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What could have been the start to a better life soon vanished the moment the team got separated. Yourself, Omega, Echo and Tech were trapped and you didn’t even know where the others two were.
Admittedly you were a little distracted throughout the day, with what haloed at Cid’s parlor but you knew you had to get your head straight the second Tech got injured. Your heart was racing and you were trying to hide your panic as you slung his arm around your shoulder helping him hobble towards the far end of the container so it didn’t tip even further. “Do you feel okay? Not woozy or anything?” You ask with caution to which he shook his head, hissing softly as you help him take a seat on a crate.
“Other than the ache in my leg, I feel fine. Femur fractures are quite common in the spoils of war though not exactly ideal. Especially in our predicament.” He looks at you, seeing the sympathetic look on your face.
“We have to find a way to get you out of here but I don’t want you putting pressure on that leg.”
When you all come up with a plan, you allow Omega and Echo climb up first to safety, your throat in your mouth as you realise it doesn’t look to be the easiest climb. But, it was better than falling to your death.
“May I ask you a question?” You’re in the process of tying a sturdy cable around Tech’s waist, knowing he’s in no capacity to try and scale the mountain side you’re all hanging off when he speaks up.
Glancing up, you nod for him to continue, making sure the knot is tight but probably not as tight as the feeling in your throat at his question. “What did Cid’s acquaintance, Phee, mean when she addressed how you apparently did not like the way she spoke to me?”
You avoid eye contact and merely shrug. “I don’t know.” You say quietly, tying yourself up to a separate cable but your hands are fidgeting a little bit too much to focus.
Tech notes your sudden change in shy demeanor and gets the hint that you’re lying to him which was very rare of you. “You’re also uncertain as to why she singled me out if we were courting or not and why it was enough to make you cry?”
A rush of blood travels up your neck, ashamed that you had cried over it in the first place. But as you look back at him, a pointed expression is on his face, you sigh. “If you’re gesturing to something Tech, just say it.”
He had been thinking about this for the last few hours, ever since he saw your reaction. Though he didn’t understand the sudden issue, he went ahead and spoke to Hunter about it. And if Hunter’s hesitance in telling him the truth was correct, he would feel a little foolish at his next choice of words.
“Forgive me if I am wrong but, you were jealous.”
Your hands still on the still unfastened cable around your waist, Tech seeing how your chest heaved as you sucked in a deep breath and gave out a shaky exhale. “I don’t get jealous, Tech.”
“But you were in that moment, no?” He limps forward a little towards you, noticing your struggle. “Here, allow me.” His steady hands come up and take a grasp of your predicament, gloved fingers gently swatting yours away and tying you up to safety. Meanwhile you could only stare at him wide-eyed, a little bashful too.
“If I am correct, I do not see why you have anything to be jealous of. She would not have replaced you and,” he pauses, tossing words around in his mind before he continues, “I would only feel flattered if someone like you would ‘flirt’ with me. If that was what Phee was doing.”
You’re silent, head looking down and watching as he expertly fastens you up. But, your silence plays on his expert mind.
Tech takes a little bit of a gamble. If it goes horribly then maybe him plummeting down the cliff wasn’t such a bad thing. “Do you think jealousy would have surfaced if Phee had flirted with the others?”
You feel queasy, the tone of his voice was slightly hushed, afraid that others would hear even if nobody else was around. “I don’t think so.”
Although you seemed very shy, his insides were growing warm at your confession. Finally managing to make you admit what he had been wanting to hear for a while. “That is interesting. Truthfully, I spoke to Hunter about it and it did not occur to me that she was so called ‘flirting’ with me as it seems implausible.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well,” he shifts his position, leg starting to ache again but waits until he knows you’re secure before he leans against a crate, catching his breath, “others would favor my other brothers.”
You hate hearing him talk down about himself and carefully sit beside him. “Don’t say that. You’re very handsome and sweet Tech. Anybody would be lucky to have you.”
There’s a warmth flowing through his body at your words. He knows that this wasn’t flirting, instead it was you being honest and true with him. “So do me the honors in answering this, so I know Hunter did not lie to me… do you like me?”
You turn your head to face him, heart beating a little fast and you were glad he didn’t have the Sergeant’s senses. “Remember when you said if ‘someone like me’ flirted with you?”
He nods, a little confused.
“Well what if it was me?” You find the courage that had been eating away at you, pleading to get out. A subtle disclosure of your feelings for Tech.
“Mesh’la,” there’s a sigh of relief in his tone, suddenly forgetting the pain in his leg, “I like you too. Tremendously. Though I must admit if you had ever advanced in flirting with me I was clearly none the wiser.” He chuckles, cheeks pink. There’s a moment where he raises his hand and gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face before his gloved hand cups your cheek, digits gently caressing at your skin.
“I would very much like to kiss you, too.”
Not needing to say anymore, you leaned into him and allowed your lips to brush against one another. It’s gentle, subtle, but perfect. It only lasted a few seconds before you pulled back after hearing Echo telling us to ‘hurry up down there!’.
“Unfortunately Echo is correct and we must escape this vessel before we fall to our deaths. Otherwise this uplifting conversation would have been for nothing.” He pushed his goggles up the tip of his nose as they slid down but you both didn’t leave until you place another kiss to his jaw.
“Let’s talk about this later, yeah?”
“Of course.”
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Requests are Open. Please read my Masterlist at the bottom to see what I won’t write about to avoid disappointment. Please also tell me if you’d like female, male or gender neutral reader and if you’d like NSFW or SFW. Thanks ♥️ please note I have lots of requests and won’t get to them within a week.
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bangtanflirt · 10 months
Text
From Bully To Boy-Toy (Drabble #2)
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I know 900 words isn’t exactly a drabble for a lot of you but I just felt like calling this a drabble lol. This is based on my two-shot fic, “From Bully To Boy-Toy.” Read the main story here: (Part 1 &  Part 2) 
Jimin x Reader
Warnings: smut, secretly submissive Jimin, bully Jimin, femdom, humiliation and degradation kink, pretty heavy on the blackmail kink this time, twisted morals and badly negotiated kinks (good for writing and reading, but horrible for real life!) 
18+ ONLY. Read under the cut.
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The last time you were in Park Jimin’s bedroom, it was when you caught him indulging in his dirty little secrets. Now, being a part of said secret, you feel much more at ease in his space than before—especially knowing you have the upper hand. Poor boy looks like a lost lamb in his own bedroom, standing awkwardly in his nude form. One of your favorite things about Jimin is just how much he squirms under your gaze every single time, no matter how many times the two of you play these games. It helps that you keep him on his toes, never giving too much away of what’s in store for him. Just like today.
“Lay down on the bed. On your back. Legs spread.”
There’s no hesitation anymore, not like when this thing first started. Now, he’s on good boy autopilot, feet shuffling immediately at a command. You can’t help but let out a little laugh. No one in their right minds would believe you if you said you had the campus’s biggest dick (in both senses of the word) at your beck and call. Just this morning you had heard the rumors of what happened in his Chem lab, where he sabotaged some guy’s experiment and caused a small fire. Granted, he’s been easing up heavily on the cliché ‘push a nerd against a locker’ type of stuff, but Jimin needs to know you’re not fond of his other games either.
His breath hitches at the cold metal clicking against his hands, handcuffs holding him firmly in place.
“I heard about the Chem lab incident.”
“Th-that was an accident. I was trying to help him!”
You let out a dry chuckle, “Oh please, I took that class last semester. I know exactly what the assignment was, and there’s no way to mess up that lab in such a way. You’d have to go out of your way for that to happen.”
You see his eyes go wide, not expecting your pushback. Suddenly, he’s not making eye contact anymore.
There’s a pause before he mumbles a whiny “sorry” under his breath.
“Not good enough pretty-boy. I heard the poor guy got in trouble instead of you. Still as cunning as ever, are we? Did you even know he’s on scholarship? Not everyone can afford to fuck around like you do Park.”
He doesn’t talk back.
You fish out a red lipstick from your bag, making bold strokes across his chest. His brows furrow in an attempt to bend his neck enough to read the writing, frustrated that he can’t see it.
“Here, I’ll help you out.” You take out your phone, making sure to aim the camera in a way that captures both his face and the words. You wave the screen in front of his face tauntingly. You watch as his cheeks turn bright red at the sight, the words clear as day now.
“Read it out loud.”
“Disgusting little bitch.” The words come out in whispers.
“That’s what you are, isn’t it?”
He nods with zero protest.
“Say it. Say the whole sentence.” Your camera’s on him once again, ready to record.
“I’m a disgusting little bitch.”
“And why are you a disgusting little bitch?”
He looks unsure, not knowing what you want to hear, but your eyes are nudging him to speak.
“Because I like being made fun of, because it gets me hard.”
You smirk, playing the video back for both of your viewing pleasure.
“This is great, I’m sure the whole college will love this!”
Jimin freezes, skin going two shades paler and visibly clammy.
“Y/N—you can’t…” His heartbeat thuds loudly in his ears at the thought of people at school seeing that video. His cock seems to be on a different wavelength as the rest of him though, getting painfully harder by the minute. It’s baffling how his rational mind can dread something so much while his horny one gets off on it.
“Don’t worry. I won’t…if you behave. I’ve told you nicely plenty of times to stop picking on people, haven’t I? But you keep doing it, so it seems I need to resort to this. Behave and these will be for my eyes only. Simple.”
He nods fervently, “I’ll be good. Please don’t show anyone!”
“Good bitch.” You toss the phone aside, using your hands for more urgent matters—the proudly erect cock greeting you. Jimin hisses at your soft hands gently stroking up and down his length, letting himself get lost in the sensation. You get lost in it too, his cute whimpers filling up the room. It doesn’t take long to push him over the edge, creating a sticky mess over your blue nail polish. You notice how much quicker he gets off, and your hunch about this particular kink of his is proven true.
You clean your hands off in the bathroom while Jimin cools down with a quick shower.
“I’m deleting the photo and video, so you don’t have to freak out.”
The water stops and the man peaks out curiously, grabbing a towel to dry off.
“You are?”
“It was just to get you riled up. I would never actually blackmail someone, I’m not you.” You roll your eyes.
There’s a long pause as Jimin seems to be in heavy thought.
“Don’t delete them.”
“What?”
“Keep them on your phone. I want you to. Use them to make me behave.”
You look into his eyes, and they are as serious and sober as they could be.
“Damn Park, I didn’t think your blackmail kink ran this deep.”
He’s blushing again, before shuffling away into the bedroom with his head down.
____
Taglist: @hzbbtsfanficrecs @namjooncrabs  @taeriffic @pjmin-95 @cashia @ivykl33n @imfalltopieces @jeoniov 
*If you asked to be tagged and didn’t, it’s because tumblr won’t let me tag you. I’ll send you a DM instead!
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deathblacksmoke · 3 months
Text
Dramamine—Part 6
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Nick Ruffilo
Series Summary: Cynical, brooding bartender Nick meets too-earnest, pretty boy singer Noah when The Rabbit's Foot starts hosting an open mic night.
CW: angst, hurt/no comfort, Nick is really fucking sad and Noah is also pretty sad, poor coping skills, mentions of death
*Content warnings will be updated by chapter*
Word Count: 1K
Taglist: @concretenoah / @ladyveronikawrites / @circle-with-me / @darksigns-exe / @xxrainstorm / @monotoniscreaming / @agravemisstake / @iknownothingpeople / @cookiesupplier / @jiizzy / @bngurngheart / @signs-of-ill-portent / @anameunmusical
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future fics!
dividers by @cafekitsune 💐
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The only thing Nick wants as he watches Noah’s heart break is to reach out and touch.
He was so close to letting himself have a good thing. He looks past Noah, wringing his shaky hands, at the framed photo of Jasmine on the end table. He reminds himself.
You’re not allowed. You don’t get to have this.
He doesn’t deserve it, but he sees Noah, tears welling up in his pretty brown eyes, and he does deserve it. He thinks Noah deserves whatever he wants. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do about that, when for some reason, what Noah wants is him.
“I know I can’t be her but—” Noah starts, looking down at his lap, face twisting uncomfortably. Nick wants to hold him so badly. “I really thought I was making you happy.”
“You were,” Nick says, watching as the hopeful expression that had briefly occupied Noah’s face falls again. “You are, Noah,” The confession is a surprise to even him. “I just can’t do this.”
Noah’s lips part, snap shut again just as quickly. Nick watches as a singular tear falls and Noah looks away, embarrassed. He has to stop himself from reaching out to wipe it away, kiss him, take it all back.
He can’t.
Humiliation and shame settle painfully in his gut when Noah’s face crumples, tears now streaming steadily down his cheeks. The list of reasons he’ll never forgive himself is getting a whole lot longer. 
“Why not?” Noah asks. He sniffles a little pitifully, wiping away tears only to have more fall. “If you’re happy and I’m happy, why not?”
He thinks either Noah didn’t listen to a word of his story, or he really doesn’t get it. The last time someone made him happy, he wrecked it. The last time he made someone happy, she died. With his track record, he isn’t willing to risk Noah.
No matter how bad he wants it. And he really wants it.
“I’m not allowed to be happy, Noah.”
He watches Noah’s mind race. He can tell he wants to argue, for a moment, until his face shifts. He fixes Nick with an uncaring look and stands up from the couch.
Nick doesn’t buy it for a second, but he lets it go.
“Okay,” Noah says, wiping his tears and heading for the front door. “I’ll see you around then.”
Nick doesn’t have the time to say anything before the door slams behind him. He’s not sure he even would have. 
He wishes he could talk to her. He wishes she were here to tell him what he’s supposed to do. She always knew what to do.
Against his better judgment, he opens the drawer of the end table for the cigar box sitting inside.
It’s everything he has left of her: what she left, what he didn’t destroy after she died and left him all alone, wrecked.
He’s already started to forget the sound of her voice. When he looks at the photo from their fourth date, her face pressed into his cheek, mouth open in a laugh, he can hear it. He can hear how brightly she laughed, the way she would say his name, incredulous but affectionate. “Nicky,” she’d say with mock outrage, shoving at his shoulder. “You stop that right now.” 
She was always smiling the whole time, so wide her eyes would scrunch closed. She never meant it.
God, she loved him, and he loved being loved like that. He was so addicted to the privilege of loving her back.
He drags his fingers along the silk of her baby blue ribbon—the one she’d use to tie her hair up when she wanted to look delicate. He thought she always looked delicate, the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, but he knew what made her feel especially so. She’d put on her Mary Janes, frilly white crew socks, gold hoops, a corduroy skirt. She’d give him a twirl, ask how she looked, and his chest would ache. He would stay a few paces behind her as they walked through the bookstore, not wanting to miss a glimpse of her.
It had taken a lot out of him when he found it, his first time washing the sheets after she left. He pulled the pillowcase off of her pillow to see it flutter down to the bed. He’d held it in his clutches, collapsed to the ground, wracking sobs overtaking his body. He never did wash the sheets that day.
A stick of doublemint gum, left abandoned in their nightstand. It’s long ago lost its smell and with it, Nick has lost the smell of her. He’s losing the way that the smacking of her lips and the clattering of her teeth when she chewed only endeared him to her more, when with anyone else, it would have driven him out of his mind.
At the sight of the Valentine’s Day card she’d bought him in 2018, his mind shifts back to the late night in that diner, a late dinner after he got off work. She had insisted he open her gift first—Deftones on vinyl, his favorite album, but what he remembers most is the card. A silly little greeting card, two birds on a wire, but the inside is what twists his gut the most. “Will you be my boyfriend? Check yes or no.”
He had been distantly annoyed at the time, that he was going to ask in just a few minutes but she beat him to it. Overwhelming that, though, was the way his chest was on fire. The way that he never thought it was possible to feel so loved, feel so perfect, to love someone that much. 
He felt it made his gift seem small, so meaningless. She gave him the greatest gift of all, but the tears in her eyes as she opened it told a different story. The gold necklace with the cursive J pendant he’d noticed her eyeing for weeks now lays forgotten at the bottom of the box, having been thrown haphazardly onto their nightstand before she left.
He closes the box, slips it back into the drawer. Something in the back of his mind tells him that she would want him to move on, but something in the front tells him it’s his mind playing tricks on him.
He needs his life back to normal—his normal, at least—he can’t drag Noah into his mess.
He shoots a text off to Jolly.
I'll be back on Saturday.
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crissiebaby · 5 months
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The Pampered Curse: Chapter 4
DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, humiliation, domination, masturbation/diaper sex, hyperwetting, mental regression, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!
Commissioned By: BlossomBitchDolly
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*BZZZZZZZ-*
“Nonono! NO! C’MON PWEASE!”
Whimpering like a beaten dog with his body half off the couch, a very frustrated Edan flopped back as his diaper ceased vibrating, leaving him dangling off the edge of a climactic cliff. His stomach gurgled and churned while he stared at the near-empty juice bottle resting a few feet away. He’d chugged more than a few bottles throughout the course of the day, constantly fueling himself up with water so he could pee and get his buzzy diaper purring again. Inevitably, all this left him with a bad case of blue balls that only got worse with each failed attempt and, of course, the diaper itself, which had swollen to utterly bulbous proportions with each drop of piss multiplying the girth of the thirsty wadding. And after a day of nothing but piddling to try and make himself cum, he was now rocking a nappy that was reaching the size of a small heater.
“O-One mo time,” Edan stuttered, pushing himself off the back of the couch and rolling forward onto his diaper; something that stimulated his sex tremendously, much to his chagrin. Part of him wanted to skip peeing again and try to hump his way to victory but he knew he’d likely fall short much like he did when he attempted the same thing earlier, albeit with a significantly smaller nappy. And with how sore and exhausted he was, he couldn’t afford to waste any shots.
Using the thigh muscles he’d acquired through years of taking daily walks, Edan lifted his supremely heavy diaper off the ground. Well…somewhat. The diaper was so wide that it now dragged on the ground no matter how high Edan lifted it. He eagerly threw open the door to his fridge and grabbed another juice bottle, never questioning where these bottles kept coming from. It was as if his fridge had an endless supply. With a new bottle in hand, he hurried back to the living room, ready to dive into another round of padded masturbation.
Arriving at the couch, Edan was presented with a new problem: his diaper was now too big to lift onto the couch as he sat down. He struggled for about a minute before giving up. After all, what good was a couch when he may as well have had a squishy bean bag tied to his hips?
*SQUELCH!*
Plopping down in the center of his new seat, Edan giggled as he sunk his hands into his plushy padding. It would be painfully obvious to any onlooker that Edan’s brain was succumbing to whatever diaper spell that witch cast on him as well as the subliminal messages that he was being fed via the cartoons on TV. If he had been more cognisant, he may have grown skeptical of why children’s animation had continued to play on his TV well into the evening. Sadly, from Edan’s perspective, it was as if nothing about his thought process had changed.
Eventually, Edan managed to pry his hands away from the mushy pillow between his legs long enough to slip the juice bottle into his mouth, his smiling face welcoming the same titillating taste that had enraptured his taste buds since breakfast. The taste wasn’t the only reason he was smiling, though, with his body reacting almost instantly as his bladder started to ache. But as much as he wanted to go, he knew he needed to hold out as long as he could. A small discovery he’d made throughout his day of play was that the more he peed, the longer his diaper vibrated, giving him plenty of incentive to lock down his bladder until the right moment. A moment that was fast approaching as he continued to chug his bottle in record time.
“Ah! Das gud stuffs,” Edan said, his lisp out in full force as he chucked the empty bottle across the room. He’d done everything he needed to. All that was left to do was wait for the first of what he hoped to be many big explosions in his diaper. Something he wouldn’t have to wait for long considering how fast the liquid zoomed through his body. His toes curled inward until the knuckles turned white, extending the time before his urination as far as it would go.
*HSSSSSSSS!*
“GASP!”
All of sudden, Edan’s body gave out on him with no warning, sending a juice bottle’s worth of piss into the heart of his mega-mooshable nappy. Unsurprisingly, his diaper accepts his moist donation in kind, rapidly expanding outward like a water balloon attached to a faucet, delighting and arousing him to an absurd degree. His hands sunk into the crotch of his distended diaper in preparation for the vibrations to recommence. It was doubtful he’d even be able to respond with his name if someone were to ask him, with how lost in pleasure he truly was. His entire diaper had become an erogenous zone. And that erogenous zone was about to be amplified to the nth power as his cock sputtered out its final drops of urine, completing his longest piss yet and leaving him in a diaper the size of a full-on beach ball.
*BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!*
Rumbling like a magic wand set to top speed, Edan’s diaper roared back to life. Almost instantly, he felt his body get put on edge to such a powerful extent that it was as if he was already cumming. Only unlike a normal orgasm, the feeling never decreased, instead building with each pulse and shudder of his vibrating, yellow cloud. And yet, no matter how much he kicked his legs and banged his head, no matter how much he forced his palms to massage the entire parameter of his padding, no matter how badly he needed the release, he couldn’t bump himself over the final hump, leaving him trapped in intense, perpetual edging.
*BZZZZZZ-*
Unfortunately, Edan’s playtime ended in the exact same way as his previous dozen attempts. Depressed and more tired than he had ever been in his life, he barely attempted to lift his diaper again before making the formal decision to stay put for the night. Well, less decided and more slowly passed out in spite of his persistent desire to grind his diaper again. “L-Lemme…pew…pew…” he muttered as his eyes shuttered and his sleepy brain drifted off to dreamland. Meanwhile, the TV in his living room continued to run, playing the same cartoons with subliminal messages over and over again for his sponge-like brain to absorb.
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October 31st was a cloudy morning. If only Beggar’s Night had been as dreary. Perhaps there would’ve been fewer kids running about out of fear of rain. Perhaps then Edan would’ve never wandered down that fateful gravel and arrived at the decrepit mansion. And perhaps then, he never would’ve landed himself with the most humiliating curse in history.
Forcing his glossy eyes open, Edan’s hands immediately moved to nurse his sore neck. A beanbag did not make for the most comfortable bed, regardless of how squishy its contents were. However, to his shock, he awoke to a diaper that was far from squishy. Instead, the diaper he came to consciousness in was as clean as a whistle, exactly as it had been the day before. Though, this morning’s diaper cleaning came with one horrific caveat; a fact Edan was alerted to as he attempted to roll onto his hands and knees.
*CRINKLE!*
Gone was the slightly above-average-sized diaper he’d been locked inside of, replaced by one that put the term “above-average” to shame. His diaper may have been spotless but it hadn’t shrunk by so much as a single inch overnight, leaving him in a dry diaper of beach ball dimension. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the nappy was also appropriately themed being that it was a bright orange diaper with a cutesy jack-o-lantern face on the crotch. “Sewiouswy! Can I gets one fweakin bweak!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, wishing he could curl up in a ball and disappear at this point. At least then he’d be spared the unending embarrassment of whatever fresh hell his diaper had in store for him every sunrise. 
Wincing as he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, Edan knew it was time to do the one thing he’d avoided doing all this time: call for help. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him in his pathetic, padded state but desperate times called for desperate measures. He decided to call the local mental hospital to pick him up, believing institutionalization with strangers to be a far better option than calling up anyone he knew. Besides, after the shit he’d been through, some psychiatric care wouldn’t go amiss.
Tragically, as Edan managed to scoot himself back to the couch where his phone was located, his anxiety spiked again as his cell phone had been replaced by a toy phone one might find in the hands of a toddler. If it wasn’t obvious that the curse he was under was affecting the objects around him beyond the diaper, it certainly was now.
*hsssssssssss*
“W-Wuh?! N-NO!” shouted Edan as a stream of hot piss entered his diaper without any control or even so much as an internal warning. Gone were the bladder muscles he had spent his youth acquiring. He was now officially and unequivocally incontinent.
*BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!*
Unlike before, Edan’s diaper did not wait for him to finish pissing, revving up its vibrations after a few seconds. There was nothing to compare the feeling to. It was like being electrocuted and melted at the same time. He barely handled staying conscious throughout the experience, though he did start to fade in and out a few times. The one thing keeping him from passing out was the utter euphoria he felt mixed with the sheer determination of a man with no thoughts beyond smoosh and ejaculate. If only both of those things were possible. He didn’t even notice when his diaper stopped vibrating, his humping turning instinctual and automatic as another morning and afternoon passed him by without much notice.
It took until early evening for Edan to return to his senses, his lips cracked and his face sweaty from a second day of failed self-love. He clasped his hands together as tightly as his strength would allow, fearful of what they might do if left unattended. Enough was enough. One way or another, he needed to settle things with this ghost girl and get her to remove the diaper. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure that he’d ever know peace again.
Staggering to his feet, Edan was pleased to find that the diaper was far lighter than it was yesterday despite maintaining its two-foot radius. He looked down at himself, grimacing at his babyish appearance as he spotted a row of buttons lining the bottom hem of his shirt, which had grown in length again and was resting gently against the plastic front of his diaper. Of course, his shirt had turned into an orange, jack-o-lantern onesie to match his diaper, not that anyone would ever pull off snapping the buttons together anyway. He wanted to change but the prospect of carrying both himself and his diaper up to his bedroom felt like a Herculean endeavor, especially when considering that he might find the rest of his clothing transformed, making the effort less than worthless.
As humiliating as it was certain to be, Edan knew his best course of action was to avoid wasting any time and make a break for the mansion dressed as is before his devious diaper took control of him for good. He gritted his teeth as his fingers wrapped around the door handle. Hopefully, the streets would be quiet for a Tuesday evening. Though knowing his luck, he’d stumble into Beggar’s Night part two or some other event that may as well have been tailor-made to squeeze as much blush out of him as possible. Bracing himself for social suicide, he threw his front door open to be greeted by the cool colors of a twilight sky.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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Edited by AllySmolShork
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thesovereignsring-if · 5 months
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Honestly, maybe if you were forthright on how the story gonna be like, then the anon(s) wouldn't be so mad. There where a bunch of asks about whether the MC would be competent but instead of giving a straight answer you went about what this story is and isn't without actually answering the questions. Sometimes you make it seem the mC is only relevant because the other characters love the MC, and that's the only merit the MC has. And instead of confirming witch it is, you keep talking about power fantasy like wanting the mc to have qualities other than love interest/siblingtTM is wish fulfillment.
I've scrolled down the whole blog, and don'tknow wha
I know you're probably saying this kindly, but I'm probably going to answer slightly more emotionally than usual. Since you scrolled down the whole blog, you should have a seen idea the kinds of asks I've been answer to and why I might colour my words the way I have been.
But before I do that, I would politely ask you to never try to justify a certain anon's anger or behavior towards me by saying I should do this or that- I'm not here to placate people. I am here to write and produce a story and game. I don't care if people agree with what I say or not, and honestly I don't care if people get angry, but lashing out in anger in THIS fashion is completely unacceptable.
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I believe I have been forthright and I already give away more information about the story and plotline than I really should to temper audience expectations.
I zero in on the 'power fantasy' and 'wish fulfilment aspect' because because that's what, at the end of the day, what those anon(s) want. That's what a large majority of fiction sets out to be. Especially popular media. Wish fulfillment. And it's exactly what I say it is:
A power fantasy is wish fulfillment, empowerment and feelings of accomplishment, in all shapes and forms. It’s feeling you have worth, it’s feeling like you did something good or right. It feeling like your useful. It’s all the things that send the happy feelings to your brain. Being “competent” and “useful” can also falls into that category.
How can I not be more clear that the story is meant to be oppressive and disempowering etc?? That it's not going to be that?? I explain, justify with reasons within the MC background. I've already buildt up and fleshed out in the game why the MC is exactly way they are are the beginning of the game. AT THE BEGINNING OF THE GAME. But if larger thematic concepts are too broad, then I've already said the MC is the underdog. Do people know what that even is anymore? I feel like I'm losing my mind.
So I'll be clear on this once again. This story is not going to give you instant gratification, you might not get it all at. The whole narrative is meant to be bittersweet at best and painfully depressing at worse. That is in almost every aspect of the narrative, including the MC.
You're going be used. You're going to be lied to. You're be betrayed. You're gonna be humiliated. And sometimes, you're going to have to gritt your teeth and move on. The MC is going to have to do that. So does everyone else in this goddamn story.
I don't give concrete answer because it's clear what I deem is competent does not match what others deem competent. Because if I do, people are going to come back and be say "but you said this..., you said that..." No matter what I say or do, people have their own expectations and belief and it's probably not going to live up to those expectations because.
And that's too bad. I've already written enough in Chapter 1 that shows mages and soldier MC can defend themselves just fine. I've already written that the MC can have a fruitful future ahead of them with their conversation with the Empress. They aren't the best in their field- they can't. They're barely an adult when the story starts. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? Most of the cast the far is 5+ years older than the MC. They have wars and conflict to prove themselves. The MC has basically finished high school and can already land a pretty comfortable career in the Empire for the rest of their life already.
This story has magic and monsters and kings and queens, but write my characters with a more realistic foundation. A lot of popular narratives have MC that dominate the narrative and I've telling everyone again, that this is not going to happen. The MC is going to have fight tooth and nail, like everyone else. It's on equal grounds.
And I say that the MC is loved and is relevant for simply being alive and loved- its because they are. The whole narrative conflict of the game is a succession dispute with in the family, were all the current successors have equal claim to the throne- including the MC and their older brothers who love them. It doesn't matter if the MC is the strongest, most powerful, capable or if they're passive. This is a constant that cannot and will not change no matter what kind of MC people play.
Sorry, but I'm starting if i'm starting to loose my patience with you, Anon, cause it does seem like you sent this in good faith, but I am getting tired of trying to justify myself all the time, especially after dealing with a particularly obsessive individual, who would not accept any explanation I gave and instead called it 'bullshit plot armor', when it really is a different flavor of realism. So forgive me, if I stop being kind, polite or generous with my time for them. Furthermore, you didn't read the messages they sent to my inbox because I made the choice not make them public and delete them. I only have so much time in the day to write game and answer every ask in my inbox. I wish I could, but I cant. There's 45 messages in my inbox as I'm writing this, but I try to answer the ones I feel are relevant and time sensitive.
Now I've said my piece, I'm gonna go retreat into my writer's den. If people are upset with what I've written so far, then I implore them to go back to pinned post, read and decide for themselves if they're willing to come along for the ride. Because if you people come at me with the same questions, I will answer the same way. If you do not understand what I am saying, than perhaps you may need to see it at a different perspective.
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Hi Cat. I’m in need of Hero who doesn’t have guts to get rid of Villain, even though Villain would accomplish the very same task just well. So instead of a quick “happy end” Hero dooms themselves to emotional suffering and with that dooms Villain to humiliation and pain. Though, maybe, it can be changed…
The villain’s smile was soft.
“You haven’t changed one bit.”
And the hero, tears in their eyes, shaking hands gripping the gun desperately, tried their best not to sob. But it didn’t really matter. Both of them looked like a mess and the hero’s body language betrayed them, no matter how hard they tried to focus on this.
“You’re still the same scared kid,” the villain said. “So scared of what they’ll think. Monster. That’s what they’ll call you and you know it. The same name they gave to me all those years ago.”
Even though the tears were strolling down their cheeks, the hero refused to believe that they were actually crying. This wasn’t real. This was a bad dream.
But the blood on the villain’s chin, the cracked shoulders and the hero’s sprained ankles were real. All of this was so painfully, horribly real.
“I hate you,” the hero whispered, trying to convince themselves that this was just another day at work and above all, that they meant those words with their heart.
“Then shoot. Do it.” The villain seemed to be just as tired as the hero themselves. Fighting for a whole night was a bit more than strenuous and now that the sun was rising, the exhaustion washed over them like hard winter rain.
“Why didn’t you stay?” the hero asked. Their voice quivered, making them feel weak for the first time in their life.
They thought they were fine. They thought they could live with the things the villain had done to them, they thought they could move on. But they couldn’t.
In fear of seeing them, they’d gotten rid of their phone, thrown away their TV, smashed their radio. The hero had no clue what was going on in the world and all of that was just because they couldn’t stand to see the villain. Couldn’t stand to hear about what they were destroying now. Which hero they took a liking to.
They explicitly avoided fighting them.
And it was fine. It was good. Until the villain decided to build weapons of mass destruction and sell them.
“There was nothing left for me,” the villain said. They groaned as they tried to stabilise their shoulder clumsily. Funny, how both of them had the same wounds. After all these years, they still knew each other’s weak points and how to turn their strengths against each other.
“I was there,” the hero said. “I was always on your side. I knew you didn’t murder them. Why did you leave me?”
Slowly, the villain pushed themselves up and the pointed gun followed their movements shakily. Again, there was a smile on the villain’s lips. A small smile that was somewhere between regret and happiness.
“The difference between you and me, my dear, is that I don’t need you. I don’t want you anymore. I let go of our past a long time ago.” The hero wanted to sob. They wanted to hug the villain and apologise for their mistakes. They wanted to talk to them and tell them about their fears and their accomplishments, their day and their night. They wanted them back in their life oh so badly but when they looked into the villain’s eyes, there was not even a spark of those feelings inside.
“I’m sorry,” the hero said, not able to hold back the tears.
“That doesn’t change anything,” the villain said. “I loved you and when I needed you, you weren’t there for me. You may think you were, you may think you offered your help and that I was the one who didn’t come to you. But I noticed your growing resentment towards me. I noticed how you talked about me with others. So, I left.”
“I’m really sorry,” the hero said.
“I don’t care,” the villain answered. “I got out of the burning house soon enough. But you’re still in it and the fire is eating you up.”
This time, the villain’s smile was a bit cruel.
“And personally, I cannot wait to see your ashes scatter in the wind.”
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safetycar-restart · 7 months
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hello!! any thoughts on oscar + diapers? either in little space or not? was thinking about that line you wrote in the oscar/logan champagne showers ask about oscar not liking to be messy and it got me thinking maybe (outside of little space) diapers as a soft humiliation thing you do with him? nowhere near as intense as w pierre, like way softer vibes, but curious if u have any thoughts!
Honestly I think this ask might have changed my brain chemistry because I had never thought about this before and now... now I can't stop I love this.
I think there's something so, almost vulnerable about soft humiliation with Oscar? It's less humiliation and more just, calling out Oscar for exactly who and what he is and letting Oscar get all shy and blushy and turned on from having someone know him so perfectly.
I also think that like Charles, he enjoys laying with you and cuddling and squirming with a full bladder? He likes how it feels, likes how he has to hold onto you when it gets too much and likes how you kiss his head and encourage him. He LOVES that.
And he would also love to lose it in your arms, to eventually not be able to hold it and to let it all go, to be held tight as he does and be allowed to have a little cry from relief in your arms.
You've told him many times that he can have that, encouraged him so often but he never does. The moment he thinks there's even the smallest chance he won't be able to hold anymore, he jumps up and runs to the bathroom. He doesn't even let himself leak.
Because he hates the idea of getting wet, and hates the thought of it getting on you even more. No matter how many times you tell him that clothes can be washed and the two of you can share a shower or bath together, that towels can be put down and that the mess would be very very manageable, he never lets himself do it because he just... no.
Once or twice he's tried wetting in the shower, but that didn't work out because he wanted to be in your arms. Yeah he liked the aspect of you watching him, but the end result was still him in soaked jeans and being so uncomfortable and he couldnt even get a hug because he was covered in his own piss and he refused to let you near.
So you suggest diapers.
And for about a month Oscar denies any interest and you leave it alone, but Oscar can't stop thinking about it. Because you offered Oscar diapers so that he could cuddle in your arms and leak and not have to worry and even full on wet himself without any worry.
As much as the thought of diapers terrified him, he couldnt deny how much he LOVED that idea.
He puts the diaper on himself when he gets to a level of desperation where he wants to start squirming. The moment it's on, he just stands at the foot of the bed all uncertain again, knowing full well that he probably looks ridiculous and expecting to be made fun of.
But then you just open your arms and let him dive in and hide in your chest.
He gets very desperate very quickly, starts squirming in your arms and tries to hold himself only to find the diaper in the way. He whines and clings to you instead, tensing when he feels himself leak and panicking for a moment before he realises that the diaper caught it.
And this is where the soft humiliation comes in, because you don't know when he leaks? You can't see it obviously. So Oscar, sweet, shy, painfully turned on Oscar, has to tell you. He has to whine and sniffle and say, "leaked... a little" and that is so much more intense than if you just called him out for leaking.
Having to actually say it? Out loud? Every time?
And when he wets himself eventually, he just whines and shudders and cries against you, letting it all go and listening to you telling him to not hold back.
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