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mochikeiji · 3 years

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Gojo Satoru

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: bby gojo having heavy thoughts and sadness after everything. (pls hug) angst to fluff.

↠ a/n: ironically, his name is the title for this xD also thank you so much for the love from my recent works o(^▽^)o♡ have my love too!

↬ Word Count: 1.9k

Everyone has their beginnings. While some were blessed to start out life with good fortune and the right path, there were some who struggled through their way in living. For Gojo? He didn't really care. Not when he was already being worshipped for being born in this world, not when as a child he had barely lifted a finger before his life was already planned out for him. It was as if he was simply taking the red carpet to luxury. He already has everything. Truly, he claimed, he was indeed the honored one.

He wasn't one to be wary of his own feelings. What was there to be thought about if he doesn't know what are these stuff running through his head? Not that he should give a single mind to it.

But as he sat down at the tub of his bathroom— tweezers between his fingers, one at a time he plucks out the small shards of glass that had dug themselves onto his skin from the previous mission he was sent on solo, he started to wonder why he was staring blankly at the crimson liquid trailing down his damaged skin. Why did he felt so empty?

Maybe if Shoko were around to patch him up, he would've have had someone to pester for the day. Maybe he wouldn't have gone home to the lonesome apartment he owns, hissing at the pain from each shard taken out of his body.

Pain

That was strange. He never experienced that. Not even when he's in battle with the strongest forms of curses. No matter how many gashes of wounds he's collected, they always heal themselves quickly. It was unfamiliar that it began to frustrate him. He doesn't like it. Not one bit. It hurts. It hurts so much, yet why was there still something making his heart clench?

Loneliness. Abandonment. Broken.

Gojo was a fool for losing the only person that has come close to understanding him. If only he understood what Geto was going through; if he knew what the hell were all those troubles and emotions were maybe he would've still had his only best friend here with him. But no. It slowly came crashing down on Gojo's eyes that though he was the honored one,

He was the lost one.

A broken soul being held by strings as he was only guided to follow along the path that was planned out for him, but never what he planned for himself.

Why was he remembering all of these now? It had been years after the downfall. He should've moved on from it, be the usual cherry top, annoying idiot he was to his students and colleagues. God, he hates this. Falling, falling, falling.

Only the weak fall

Was a statement drilled into his system right from the start. The never ending worship that has earned him the title of being the "strongest" was what he kept pursuing. Believing.

Was the Gojo Satoru at his weakest point?

"Fuck." the unusually large shard of glass falls on the tiled floor, removed from the left side of his chest. Near to the scar that trails from the base of his throat and down to his navel; the reminder of why he shouldn't be left vulnerable at any cost. The hideous flaw that will forever be marked on his body, the one he desperately hides behind those prideful remarks and grinning faces. It saddens him, it hurts him, it angers him. It makes himself lose his own sanity.

The stinging started to kick in on his chest, no longer can he tell if it was from the wound or the clenching of his heart. He was strong, he was suppose and always will be strong. "Why?" the tub cracks from his grip. His free hand coming up to his eyes, eyes that people loved enough to fall in a trance— enemies crumbling and begging for mercy upon them.

Gojo felt ashamed.

Shameful. He grits his teeth hard when the small trickle of the uncharacteristic tear falls from the heavenly eye. It falls down to the porcelain surface, mixing with the trail of blood that was slowly draining down, "Why?" he finally looks down at the fatal wound, attempting to stop the bleeding with his bare hands pushing his chest. The blood smearing all over his upper body, shading the past scar that it made it look like it was there again.

"Why?"

Gojo speaks a little louder, sweating profusely as the dam inside him broke. Like an endless waterfall it was the tears fall. It made him sick. This was all not him. This wasn't the known shaman in the jujutsu world. This wasn't the boy raised from the family of the strongest. This wasn't the strongest.

"Stop."

This wasn't any of him.

"Make it stop."

Then who was he?

"Please, make it stop."

"Satoru?"

Entire body freezing. It was the first time he felt fear rushing through his veins; the fear of being seen like this. It wasn't because he didn't trust you. Good gracious, you were the last and only person Gojo ever holds onto after the years being glued together by faith and his attempts of flirting. No, he didn't want you to see this unknown person that was sitting in the bathroom of your shared apartment. Right, he forgot he was living with you.

Huh, he forgot. You were there.

There knelt down to his level, wide eyes meeting the now visible broken ones that was glossy with tears. With careful movements you raised an arm to eye level, pleading silently for permission to touch him. And for the time, Gojo was actually wary. He's faced a lot in the years spent as a sorcerer, as the strongest. Never the weakest. So when your lips curled into the same smile you'd give him during your moments of vulnerability. The cute, little curve you give when you couldn't help but just admire him or when you're about to utter out his 3 favorite words, he finds himself leaning forward to rest his cheek against the warmth of your palm. He allows the pestering tears to fall omly to be caught with your thumbs, shooing them away from his features.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

When your hand pulls away for a short moment, Gojo silently whines at the lost of contact. The tightness in his chest coming back. The feeling of abandonment crosses his head for a second before you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, holding up the tweezers he had dropped a while ago, "I'm here now."

I'm here now

That was his line. His line for when there was someone in need of help. The line that shimmers hope on the darkest moments of anyone's life. The line of the strongest. The ones who were only truly honored of saying.

Hope. It had a different form today. One that was right in front of him, plucking out every leftover shard on his body with gentleness he never got to witness as a child. The soft cooes and from time to time kisses on his scalp made his senses more focused on there rather than the stinging sensations running through his skin. Exactly how people react when there is hope.

And where there is hope,

"I love you, Satoru."

There is love.

Warm water from the shower cap started pouring down to his tensed muscles, washing out the combined dirt and blood away from him, cleansing his own form of curses that has shaken up his being. When did you finish patching him up? And why wasn't it as painful as it was when he did it?

He watches you move the small container that reeked of the scent of his blood and that inflicted his injuries far from his sight. Immediately, Gojo felt empty once more and was about to call you when you came back holding fresh towels on your hands. "Do you want me to join you?" he couldn't say yes faster than ever, almost as if he was relieved when you offered.

When you had finally stripped yourself off of your clothes and settled in between his long legs, there was nothing but the sound of the shower on echoing in the room with the two of you just staring back to one another.

Too good to be true, you were.

Gojo wanted to speak. Wanted to tell you how thankful he is that you were here to pull him away. To save his life, but all he could do was stare back into the void that of before. He sees the way your hands map around his torso in attempt to rinse him completely. Coming in contact with the old and new scar, softly tracing them as you felt his eyes wonder to yours. There was no sign of disappointment nor a hint of harm or disgust. Only something he never understood that it made him sob unexpectedly, startling you that left you pulling him into your embrace which he latches his face onto your neck and arms surrounding your body whole.

He cries.

All the frustration of not knowing whatever was happening, the mistakes he wishes to correct and the past he hoped to save along with the title he swore to maintain. It all falls on the smaller body he treasures in his arms at this very moment. He clutches, he palms, he roams. Whatever he can do just so he can fully grasp the idea that someone was there. You were there, and he wasn't alone anymore.

"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."

It would shock the world and break the hearts of many to hear these very words uttered from the mouth of the honored one. And Gojo wishes that everyone could hear it. That it would somehow reach the skies to wherever his best friend was too. To you, the person he loved the most. He was sorry that he wasn't the Gojo Satoru in your eyes.

"No, Toru. No." you push him back gently only to pull him in for a soft kiss, "I don't need you to always be the strongest. Let alone apologize for being vulnerable." he listens as he nuzzles against the palms meeting his face. The ones that held him together when he was falling apart.

His lips wobbled a bit when you land kisses on his scars, "These may not have been the good ones in your life, but these do not make you for who you are, Satoru." he hums in content when you rub down to his chest soothingly, the feeling that you has him yearning for more. Needing for more, "It's okay to be lost, and it's okay to be weak. But it'll never define you."

"I need you to be just you."

You pull him down, letting him cry all his heart out to your naked chest. He let's you have your way to him. The emotions, words, and treatment. All so unfamiliar. And he finds himself wanting. Needing more.

All his life he thought he had it all.

But never in his life has he lived it.

"What am I, (Y/n)?"

Cooing softly as the small of his voice. Like the child who never got to experience what love was. The child raised to already has to burden such responsibilities and stand. Gojo can feel himself breathe in relief as he whispers an "i love you" with a small kiss on your skin when you uttered out the words that has set his locked up self free. Free from the strings that's been taking over. The cage he was kept from all of his living.

The curse of his gift

And being honored of what he truly deserves.

"You're Gojo Satoru."

Just Gojo Satoru.

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo fluff #gojo headcanons #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo scenarios #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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ravenclaw-daydreams · 3 years

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𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐦 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐞

Warnings: smut, adult content, vaginal sex, creampie, oral (f and m receiving)

Summary: You ask Joe what he's been doing while he's been out for the past few nights, and you don't say it, but he knows what you're insinuating. You end up having him sleep on the couch, but in the morning, you wake up to a lovely surprise.

Masterlist

A/n: Needed something to satiate my joe cole yearning so here's some smut or whateva

It had been the third night in a row. The third night in a row where you sat in the exact same chair, trying to finish the exact same book, waiting for your fiancé to get home.

He had been busy the past few nights, that you could understand. But a triple offence of staying out past 3 in the morning didn't sit right with you. You even talked about it with your sister, and you already knew what she was insinuating.

But you continued to give him the benefit of the doubt. You trusted him with everything in you. You had to. You loved him so much, and you trusted that he would always feel the same, regardless of how long he decided to stay out.

But the thought still lingered. It ate at you like a termite to wood. The sudden opening of the front door snapped you out of your intrusive thoughts, your eyes flicking up off the words on the page you weren't even reading.

Joe came around the corner and muttered a small 'fuck' when he saw you sitting in your chair, the lamp next to you illuminating the worry on your face. You gently closed the book after marking the page and set it on the table next to you.

"I think you already know what I'm going to ask you, Joe," you were the first to break the ice, Joe taking his coat off and setting it on the arm of the couch, exposing his maroon cable-knit sweater.

"I just got caught up with my mates, darlin'," he tried to explain, his arms now crossed in defense.

"People don't come back from the pub at three in the morning looking almost completely sober," you were now crossing your own arms, not wanting to jump to conclusions this quickly.

"You know how they can get, I just want to make sure they get home alright."

"And I get that, Joe, I do. But this is the third night in a row you've been out so late," you pointed out, making the man across from you sigh.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I just get carried away sometimes."

You then approached him, letting out a sigh in defeat, now wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face into his shirt. That's when you tensed.

Before he could properly hug you back, you were pulling away, your brows furrowed, a look of betrayal flashing across your face.

"What is that?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes in spite of yourself, "That perfume isn't mine, Joe, and I know it isn't your cologne, Joe, what is that?"

"What?" he asked, genuinely confused, "Darlin, I have no idea what you're talking about," a look of realization plastered itself on his features, "What are you getting at?" his eyes narrowed.

"Well think about it, Joe! You spend 3 nights taking your sweet time getting home and when you do get home, you smell like someone else!"

"You really don't think I would do that to you...?" he looked hurt, but you looked worse.

"I don't want to. I really, really don't want to, Joe, trust me, but... god I just," you took a second to wipe your tears, "I think it would be best if you slept on the couch tonight, yeah?"

Joe stayed silent as he nodded his head. And with that, he left your line of sight, off to fetch blankets and pillows. That's when you slipped away up the stairs and into the bedroom.

That's when the dam broke and you began to sob, tears you tried so hard to keep in finally being released, your form hunched over as you sat on the edge of the bed, still messy and unmade from your... activities earlier the past morning.

You ended up just changing into panties and one of Joe's band t-shirts, curling up under the covers, dreading the talk that you and your fiance were most likely going to be having when you woke up.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡　　　ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

The first thing you felt was warmth. A heat stirring in your core as you tried to brush it off as nothing more than a little morning arousal. But it wasn't until you felt the hand that wrapped around your thigh that your eyes started to force themselves open.

Once you opened your eyes, the sunlight that streamed through the curtains was the first thing that you saw. But then, you felt it fully, and you turned your head, met with the sight of Joe with his head buried between your legs, devouring you know that he knew that you were awake.

Your noises that were once gasps and heavy breaths were now multiplied into moans and whimpers as your fingers went down, gripping his locks as he continued to lick and suck everything he could reach with his mouth, his nose bumping up against your clit.

"Fuck, Joe," you whimpered out, your eyes rolling back as your body felt as if it were going to explode. The coil in your stomach was tightening without letting up, and Joe knew you were close.

To push you over the edge, you felt two of his fingers find their way inside your tight cunt, already wet from his current licking, and you moaned out loudly at the sensation of his fingers opening you up.

"Cum for me," his words were muffled, but the vibrations from his baritone voice sealed your fate, tipping you over the edge as your body tensed up and you whined out, your eyes clenched shut as you felt waves of pleasure crash violently over you.

He helped you ride out your high as your sleepy brain tried to focus itself. You finally were down to earth enough to look down at him, a lazy smile crossing your lips.

"Good morning, love," he started, before making his way up your body and kissing your lips gently, the taste of yourself on his tongue.

"Morning," you lazily smiled.

"You know, about last night,"

"I'm stopping you right there," you started, "Let's just... have our morning, then talk about this later."

Joe smirked and nodded, watching as you shifted yourself downwards, you and him finally realizing how hard he really was after eating you out.

His tip was bright pink and flushed, throbbing as precum leaked from it. You gently wrapped your hand around it. He let out a shuddered breath as he felt you grasp it, swallowing when one of your hands cupped his balls.

Suddenly, he gasped, your lips going around the tip, some tension released as he felt your soft skin against him. Your lips started to slip up and down his shaft, his lips parting as his eyebrows furrowed. His hands found their way to your scalp as you continued your movements.

Abruptly, you pushed yourself all the way down, taking him all the way in, relaxing your throat the best you could as you felt him stretch it out.

"Fuck, love, your mouth is so- fuck" he gasped when you pulled yourself back up, tears welled up in your eyes from trying to suppress your gag reflex.

Your hand continued to stroke him as you did your best to catch your breath, but Joe suddenly stopped you.

"Stop, stop," he panted, "Don't want to cum yet. Want to cum inside you, is that alright?" he asked politely.

Seeing as you were on the pill and he knew that as well, you smiled and nodded, moving swiftly up his frame as you were now face to face.

"Beautiful," he muttered as he raised his hand to caress your cheek as you began to hover yourself over his shaft.

You positioned yourself then slowly descended down, both of you gasping at the sensation of his cock seemingly splitting you open. You couldn't contain your moans as your eyes closed in ecstasy, trying your hardest to adjust yourself.

You struggled with your composure as you continued to bottom yourself out, hushed gasps and whimpers leaving your lips as you felt your tight heat completely cover his hard shaft.

At last, your body finally got used to the familiar feeling of him inside you, causing you to begin smooth and slow movements across his pelvis, making him groan out at the sensation of your heat dragging across his cock.

Up and down you went, doing your best to keep with a rhythm, Joe's groans of bliss driving you to go faster, harder.

Soon enough, you were disregarding the man underneath you, now using him to pleasure yourself as you lost yourself in your own ecstasy. You bounced on him with no motive other than to make yourself cum.

"Come on, love, use that cock," he gasped, "Use that cock to make yourself cum, come on."

His words of encouragement went straight to your core as you felt yourself get closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. You couldn't help but keen for more, looking like an angel on top of him, sweat sparkling on your chest, your breathless expression enough to make Joe cum right then and there.

Finally, you felt the coil inside you crack like a whip, waves of heat and euphoria crashing over your body, making you tense and shake as you let go, your cunt clenching around your partner's cock like a vice, starting a chain reaction, the feeling of him cumming inside you while you orgasmed almost enough to make you build up again.

You panted as you dismounted him, slipping away to his side on your back, your chest rising and falling with each breath. He helped ground you, wrapping his arms around your blissed-out form, whispering sweet nothings of praise into your ear, telling how amazing you did and how lucky he was to call you his.

"Fuck," you managed to get out through labored breaths, your body still buzzing from your orgasm.

"Fuck is right, love," he smirked, letting his hand mindlessly drift up and down the bare skin of your arms.

After a prolonged silence, you finally spoke, "I trust you."

He looked down at you, grateful that you truly did trust him, trusting that he wouldn't ever do anything like what you thought.

"I love you," he muttered, now holding your face in his hands.

"I love you too."

#john shelby #john shelby smut #john shelby x reader #joe cole #joe cole smut #joe cole fanfiction #john shelby one shot #john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #joe cole imagine #joe cole fanfic

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mona-stay · 3 years

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Secrets part 3 Peter Hale

Paring - Peter Hale x Reader

Warnings - smut finally

Part 1. Part 2

You drove straight to Derek’s, still feeling a little shaken up after what Theo had done. Outside Peters Shelby wasn’t there, you didn’t know if you were happy or sad not to see it. When you got inside to your surprise Peter was there sat reading his book. He’d actually agreed to car pool with you.

Stiles and Liam both cheered as you walk in, Stiles calling you a good luck charm after the win today. How you managed to get coach to listen to your ideas. For the next few hours you all laughed, talked, drank and ate.

It was at this point, Derek being one of the closest to you noticed your neck. “what happened” he said, Peter now in his feet coming over to see. You explain about Theo’s threat and how he tried to strangle you.

“I’m gonna kill the little runt” Peter said heading for the door. You grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“don’t, Stiles’ dad’s took him, Coach is having him expelled and if he’s stupid enough to back at me then you all have my permission to kill him. But for now can we just forget about it” you say to him. Peter clenches his jaw but agrees he’ll leave Theo to sheriff Stilinski for now.

You watch Peter return to his book as Lydia pulls you to one side asking to talk. Stepping away to a more private part of the loft you wait to see what’s wrong. “what’s going on with you and Peter?” she asks outright.

You blush “nothing, what do you mean?” you say coyly. Maybe you needed to tone down your stirring at the handsome wolf.

“I seen him today at the game, his arms around you before fighting with Theo. Are you two dating now?” she asks a little concerned.

Shaking your head no “that was to wind up Theo. Peters version of leave her alone I think, not like it worked” you told her, not really sure why Peter had started on Theo the way he did. “and besides even if I did like Peter, I don’t think he likes me like that”. You say looking down not letting her see the sadness you felt.

“oh, I doubt that. The way he is around you, looks at you. I think Peter likes you, I’ve always thought that especially after you saved him” she says.

You wished it was true but knew differently, you’d kissed him wanted more he told you no. “No, I think Peter just likes the game, I know he wouldn’t want me like that” you say hoping to end the conversation.

Lydia eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t question it. She looks over at Peter who watches y/n out the corner of his eye like he’d always done. She was going to ask him but knew Peter would never tell her the truth.

Peter sat just watching everyone else, what he always did when Scott used the loft for after games celebration. It was only pack members but for Peter it was still way too many.

He glanced over to y/n now she’d finished her chat with Lydia, he was about to gain your attention until Liam got it first asking her to dance. To Peter’s annoyance you agreed, going over to dance with him, Lydia, Stiles and Malia.

Peter growled watching as they young pups hands tried to move down your body. He found himself thinking how dare Liam touch what’s his, even if you wasn’t, its all Peter truly wanted. He hated even more you hadn’t stopped it. That you just moved slightly so he wasn’t touching anymore still laughing and dancing.

For the third time Liam’s hand come inches away from your ass. This time you decide not to move out of his way, nope you decide to see Peter’s reaction. Your eyes lock with his, he’s stirring with a snarl. You wink at him hoping to push him to come over do or say something but he doesn’t. He gets up and walked to his old room. You sigh Peter hadn’t got jealous.

With Peter gone and the song finished you went to find something to drink. Everyone turned seeing the loft door open, Cory walked in scanning the room. Mason was happy to see about to give him a hug but Cory walked past him straight to Scott, his eyes flicking to you.

“Theo’s been arrested and he thinks Peter is up to something. He says Peters an alpha and y/n’s in danger” Cory blurted out. You sigh, it wouldn’t take Theo long to spill Peters secret.

Everyone looks at you, taking one or two breaths trying to keep your heart beat stable. “is this true” Scott asked.

“not as far as I know” you say hoping the wolfs wouldn’t notice the lie. After being with Theo you learned how to control some tell-tale signs of lying. “Theo has been arrested for trying to kill me” you tell Corey showing him your neck. So now he’s using lies, he knows I’m living in Peters and trying to find a way to turn you lot against him. Peter wouldn’t hurt me, in fact Peters been more respectful in the last two weeks than Theo has in two years. So what ever he’s told you Cory ignore it, I would.” You say hoping the rest believe you.

Derek agrees “y/n right Peter would never hurt her, yes he’d hurt a lot of people but I don’t think he’d do anything to her” he says knowing his uncles not so secret feelings for y/n. Although the Peter being an alpha was something Derek wasn’t sure about, it’s possible but surely he’d know.

Peter walks down the stairs “what have I meant to done now” he smirks. He’s eyes meet yours a small head tilt and smile tells you he’d heard what you said.

“Theo thinks your an alpha” Scott says eyeing up Peter, arms folded, more or less asking the question without words.

“if I was Scott, you’d be dead” Peter jokes knowing they wouldn’t question it more. “anyway I’m ready to head home, y/n shall we your my lift” add. You nod saying your goodbyes.

Once in the car Peter seemed quiet lost in his own thoughts. “thanks” he said eventually.

“what for?” you asked not sure what he was thanking you for.

“keeping my secret. You didn’t have to lie for me but you did so thank you” he said.

You smiled, you had promised you’d keep his secret and did. Even if Theo knew the truth you still wouldn’t rat Peter out. “I keep my promises, I’m a good girl like that” you say.

Peter laughs but doesn’t look up at you. “I’m sorry Theo outed you” you say. Peter just shrugs it wasn’t your fault.

“sorry he tried to strangle you” he said, thinking he was party to blame for pushing Theo. Also making a mental note to kill him next time he saw him. You smile back saying wasn’t his fault.

Back at the penthouse you walk in the door, as soon as it shuts you take your t-shirt off, showing of your sports bra. Dumping the top in the washing basket you say to Peter your getting in the shower. Giving him a full view of your body hoping after today he’d still be in a touchy mood.

Peter headed straight to his whiskey cabinet. His mixed feeling were getting the better of him, ten minutes ago he was jealous then seeing you lie for him made him love you so much more. And then your mini show for him then left almost nothing to his imagination.

He downed his drink refilling it, tonight he was going put an end to this dam game once and for all. No matter what you decide he was done playing.

You come down after your shower in short pyjama shorts and top. You didn’t miss the way Peters eyes widened as you walk past swaying your hips.

You watch Peter, he seems off you’d noticed it since the game ended. You smirk a thought coming to your head a way get what you want and cheer him up.

You open the fridge, getting out a bottle of juice, choosing not to have alcohol so he can’t say your drunk this time. You stretch up high reaching for one of the glasses on the taller shelf, making little noises to get his attention. Once you have the glass you smile giving him a small wink but he didn’t smile back. He turns his head away.

You sigh, filling the glass you walk to where he’s sat, sitting on the arm of the chair. “you know sour wolf is Derek’s nickname. This kind of pouting doesn’t look good on you” you say, swinging your legs over his, one foot resting on the top of his thigh, your toes dangerously close to his package.

“what are you doing y/n” he asks, unsure what else to do with his mixed feelings right now.

“I’m hoping to put a smile on your face, plus I owe you a thank you for coming to the game today” you say moving your toes a little to tease him.

He sighed keeping his face straight “I think you should stop y/n” he tone was stern.

You look at him confused, the first night from the bar flashing back at you. Maybe you worry wasn’t for nothing, maybe he really didn’t want you.

“Trying to find a way to cheer you up, do you really want me to stop. Peter.” You say nudging your foot over his cock.

Peter grabbed your foot, “y/n stop, I can’t do this anymore” he said looking you in the eye. Seeing your smile fade he went on to explain. “I can’t play this game we’ve been playing. I thought I could but I can’t.” He says low

You didn’t speak, just watch as he runs his hand though his hair, thinking about what he wanted to say next “I can’t handle your looks, touches the way you act like you want me. I can’t handle you falling asleep on my knee and I certainly can’t handle carrying you to bed and it not being mine. Ever since we kissed that night after the bar, all I think about is how much I want you, how you should be mine. How foolish I was acting like the good guy, pushing you away say no because you were drunk and upset, when I should have been the selfish bad guy”

He’s words were cut off when you grab him, smashing your lips with his. He was surprised by your action and didn’t move, just closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of you on his lips.

You pull back biting back a smile “good, I don’t think I could of handled it any more too, I was hoping you would have said something sooner” you say. This time Peter kisses you, this one more passionate but still light and closed mouthed.

His hand slides up the outside of your leg finding your hip. “I promised you I wouldn’t sweetheart, that night I gave you a choice, if you still wanted me in the morning I’d take you to bed, or promise I’d never bring it up” he laughed as his fingers traces circles on your hips.

You giggle, almost forgetting he’d said that “then take me to bed Alpha” you playfully order.

Peter had other ideas, he pulled you off the arm of the chair onto his lap. Kissing and nipping at you neck “thought you’d never ask” he said flashing his eyes red, scooping you do he can stand with you still in place.

You playfully slap him before kissing and biting his jawline and neck. He carries you up the stairs to his room, finally getting the girl he’d wished for and this time he wasn’t going to let you slip away. Peter laid you on his bed gently, leaning over you stirring deep into your eyes “you definitely want this sweetheart?” he asked once last time. You didn’t answer with words. Capturing his lips on yours pulling him closer for more.

Peter grabbed the hem of your vest top, slowly sliding it up, his lips following the material until he reached your boobs. He nips and kisses the parts of your boos that isn’t hidden by your black lace bra as he pulls your top off completely.

“Peter” you moan. He smiles at you as he comes back for another fast, hungry passionate kiss. He didn’t care how much you beg, he was going to take his time. He was going to make sure you never wanted anyone else but him after tonight.

You watched Peter when he broke the kiss apart, pulling his own shirt over his head. You look over his chest, taking in every line, curve and ripple that makes him. Leaning up on your elbows to get a better, fuller view of him as he started to undo his jeans.

You bit your lip, as he slowly slid them off tossing the behind him. He smirked “like what you see” he chuckled before sliding his hand up your legs pulling down your shorts leaving you in your underwear. This time it was Peters turn to admire you, his eyes raked up and down your body “beautiful” he said coming to kiss you.

Your hands went to his chest, trailing around his neck, as you pull the hair at the back of his head. Arching your back so he can unclasp your bra he throws it the away like he did his jeans. He leans back to look at you again before kissing your boob his and playing with the other one.

Running your hands across his shoulders, digging your nails in as he bites on your nipple rolling the hardened bud in his teeth. You could already feel how hard Peter is, his member pressing against the top of your thigh. You moved your hips to grind against him.

Peter took it as a hint, he gently let his fingers down your stomach, sending goose bumps over your skin. He rubbed your covered core making you moan, under his touch. He smiled feeling how wet you were for him, how your body reacted to him. His kisses follow the same path his hand had stopping just above your pantie line. He pulls them down not taking his eyes from yours.

He only looks away when there off and he kisses his way up your legs biting your inner thighs. You reach down tangling your fingers in his hair as he licks along clit. You hum and whine as he teases you with his tongue, wanting and needing more. “quit teasing please Peter” you say.

“only because you said please” he chuckles, sliding a finger in you. Your hips buckle as he wastes no time finding the spots that make you cry his name. It wasn’t long before he adds a second. He let’s them explore you, taking in the places that make you moan and cry for him. Before bringing his tongue too your clit to increase the pleasure you felt.

Peter knew you were close and didn’t let up swapping his mouth for his thick thumb. “cum for me sweetheart, I want to see you come apart for me” he practically sang. Before you knew it you were pushed over the end, clenching around his fingers, screaming a mix of ‘oh god and Peter’

Peter brought his fingers to his lips humming as he licked your cum from them. Leaning over you he kisses you, you feel his tip at your entrance. He let’s it roll along your swollen lips and cups your cheek with his hand. “I’ve wanted this for so long sweetheart” he says lining himself up.

He slowly enters you, feeling bigger than you imagined filling and stretching you in the most amazing way. The growl he makes, almost animalistic once he’s deep as he can go. “fuck me Peter” you cry, you didn’t have to ask twice, for him to start moving.

Peter was anything but gentle and you loved it. His thrusts were hard and sharp, hitting spots and places you didn’t know existed. You wasn’t gentle too, if Peter didn’t heal, your own scratch marks would have been visible tomorrow.

You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and so could he. You whine a little as Peter pulls out but before you could moan any words. He flips you over so your now on your hands, entering you again with one fast hard thrust. Once he was settled inside you, he pulls you close so your back is pressed against his chest. His hands on your boobs kissing your neck, all you could do was reach up to grab his hair.

You moan his name loving the new position your in. He bucks his hips sending a new pleasure though you. Trying to turn your head, a new wave of arousal filled your stomach seeing him, sweaty, sexy and those bright red eyes. “Peter, make me yours, bite me” you moan out on the verge of your next orgasm. “make me your little wolf, alpha” you beg. His growl mixed with his dick hitting your g-spot sent you hurling into your orgasm.

Your walls clenching around him as he feels you cum on his dick, mixed with your words send Peter over the edge. His thrusts get sloppy but he doesn’t let up, the sound of you begging he let’s his teeth scratch lightly over your neck but resists the urge to sink then in as he cums deep inside you. “your amazing” he whispers, not caring if you heard or not as he slips out of you.

You fall on the bed, out of breath, worn out. Peter hands you a drink before pulling you into his arms. Kissing your head

You laid naked in Peters bed, his arms around you, holding you close. He kissed the top of your head as you made little soft murmurs in your sleep. He was still stunned last night actually happened, that you’d chosen him, asked and begged for him. He hoped it wasn’t a one time thing. He also hadn’t forgotten your high on sex driven request of becoming his beta, butting and turning her. He wasn’t gonna lie, the thought passed his mind. He almost caved as you clenched around him begging to be his, his little wolf.

Peter didn’t do it, almost for the same reason he didn’t sleep with you the first night you entered his penthouse. He worried you’d regret it the next day and hate him for it. He decided he would bring it up again in a few days see how you felt then

He smiles as your started to wake, “morning sweetheart” he says, bring his lips close to yours, kind of testing if it was a one night stand for you. To his delight you lean up kissing him. “breakfast? He asked.

You shook your head no holding him tighter “I don’t wanna move or you to move, I’m comfy like this” you say. Peter smirks letting himself settle. You stayed there almost an hour, sharing hugs and kisses before you had to get up to go the bathroom. Peter kisses you heading down the kitchen in his boxers.

You take a second to take in how yummy his ass looked in the tight silk. When you go down Peter had you a coffee ready. He wanted to bring up what last night meant, if it meant as much to you as it did to him.

After breakfast he’d mentally asked you 10 different ways all sounds as bad as the one before. “what’s on your mind?” you ask him noticing him stirring into space.

“did you mean what you about wanting to be mine?” he asked out right, there was no other way to say it.

You pull yourself onto his lap looking him deep in the eyes “yes I meant it, I meant it all. I want to be with you, be your little wolf I want you peter” you say before kissing him.

He smiles a full happy, and slightly relieved smile. “good it’s all I want too” he says kissing your neck. He promised to bite you on the next full moon but until then you were happy just to be his girlfriend. “you know both Scott’s and Theo’s pack won’t be happy if I turn you” he joked.

You kiss him again, “I don’t care what they think, I want it and I’m happy with you” you say reassuring him. You smirk “buyt until we find a way to tell them it can be our newest secret”

#teen wolf #peter hale #derek hale #peter hale x reader #peter hale imagine #teen wolf smut #peter hale x y/n #peter hale smut #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #corey bryant #Mason teen wolf #part 3 of 3

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nameless-shrimp · 3 years

Text

TWO GHOSTS || OSAMU DAZAI

↳ PAIRING: Osamu Dazai x GN! Reader

↳ TYPE: one-shot

↳ WORD COUNT: 1.6k

↳ WARNINGS: mention of reader's depression, Dazai's unhappy thoughts, mild angst and hurt/comfort, heavy grammar errors

↳ SYNOPSIS: Dazai prepares a treat for you, but once he realizes you're not in the happiest mood, he tries to help. However, he feels the same.

↳ AUTHOR'S NOTES: i haven't been feeling well so i needed to release my emotions through writing, and i wanted some dazai comfort. so this came out in the process. i challenged myself to use apple pie and ghosts in one fic for an autumn-themed fic, and i hope you guys like it. :)

↳ AUTUMN PROMPT LIST

He dances along to the music softly blaring from the old radio. A gentle strum of guitar echoing across the kitchen. The scent of freshly baked apple pie rests on the marble counter; he smiles in pure delight. Pride. Dazai feels proud knowing that his finished dessert has been completed to an elegant mouth-salivating piece—and he chooses not to let Kunikida take full credit for stopping by his semi-clean apartment to take care of the prepping.

Rather so, Dazai will thank him later by saving a slice.

The door clicks open. His eyebrows raise in a giddy manner. He unties his messy apron, fully ready to swing his arms wide open. Soon, the grin falters to a frown, seeing your face look down at the floor below you. Droplets of rain drip from the bits of your clothes. With the way your body nearly stumbles from one step in; the bag settles down to the floor in a flash, and you walk past him. Nose dipping high to the air; adrenaline at its peek from the apple pie.

Dazai remains still for a moment, watching the ghost deep within your soul, hoping to try to find a moment of existence within the act of living. A mind reader, he’d call himself, and he smiles, understanding the tension that arises from your slumped figure. You almost limp your way to the kitchen—exhaustion overtaking your shoulders before you push yourself onto one of the high chairs.

He walks in the kitchen with a trail of his fingers on the counter. Tap after another. The rain still dies down to its steady beats of pitter-patter from the outside. Dazai keeps a smile on his face; inhaling the scent of pie that arouses the air, and he throws his arms around you in an instant. His sleeves pick up rain droplets, but he pays no mind to this.

“One of those days, my love?” He asks; you remain quiet. Dazai doesn’t push it further. He holds his head back—kitchen light washes the room to a mellow white. Instead, he departs for a brief moment. A click of the plates remains audible to you, though your head remains low. And he returns back, with a fork and a—somewhat—properly cut slice of apple pie on the plate. “Kunikida and I made this for you.”

“More like Kunikida made it,” you force a chuckle. He stiffens, aware of your unusual change of displeasuring nature, yet his heartbeat remains to match with yours. “Right?”

“Yeah.” Dazai responds. “He did.”

He cuts a small bit and offers to feed you. Of course, you give in; sweetness hitting your peak, lost in the sugary adrenaline high. And Dazai leans in to kiss you, lips tied together into a gentle connection. Lips taste so sweet; looks remain real to his eyes, almost lost in the hazel-lit structure of his irises while indulging the bittersweet of dessert and empty emotions.

He takes your hand with his before you can try to take another bite. Dazai wails a finger around, shaking his head. “Dance with me, my sweet,” he laughs; you frown. And you insist on fighting back, though you decide to soothe his words with your everlasting glow.

The two of you start to sway along to the simple guitar music that continues to echo in the background. Ambience noise of nothing but faint strums; the moon dances on Dazai’s good side, head resting close to your head. He keeps his heart steady, closely matching yours, with the genuine taste of sugar that dwells upon his lips. The ghost remains in your heart—an empty, hollow figure, where he recalled that you both shared the same stories; tongue-tied feelings that were left to be hidden from amongst the crowd though you bestowed these emotions to each other—galaxies hidden across the irises of one another.

Two shallow spirits standing amongst one another in hopes of finding what it would be like to have a heartbeat once more. Dazai allows himself to be mindful of his heart—now racing its pace once your smile rises. He closes his eyes, lips pressing against your forehead; warmth radiating from the skin. Body close to the shallow atmosphere of your heart, ghost trapped underneath the ribcage, with both of you dancing underneath the kitchen light. Maroon souls swirling in half-empty glasses; apple pie as a side.

Despising the world as Dazai did, he recalled every moment you shared with him together. The amount of degradation he put upon himself was unfathomable, no surprise—a list led to infinity. Though if a world were to call a man to be hopelessly in love with a similar paranormal empty spirit such as his, it would’ve been him, for the relationship that he cherished with you. Hand connected with yours—in spirit, and through the hardships of what life had offered through the plentiful seasons of the year, even around the time of the colored leaves on the trees.

“Osamu?”

He opens his eyes, continuing to sway his body as you follow along. His palms are met with your cheeks; tear-stained eyes noticeable to him. Dazai places more kisses along your forehead in hopes of easing the mental burden—to wash away the hurricane, as he always hopes. And he tilts his head, eyes lost in a hazel of orange. “Yes, my love?” He responds.

You sigh deeply, closing your eyes. The dam breaks, and the tears sprinkle. “Do you love me?”

He blinks mindlessly before shaking his head. “Of course I love you. With all of my heart. You’re important to me, forever,” he chuckles before kissing your forehead once more. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, wiping away a few tears. “You seem so quiet today. That’s all. I got worried.”

Dazai remains silent—ironically. For a moment, he glances at the apple pie resting on the marble counter along with your barely-touched piece on the table. He licks his lips; sweetness on the tip of his tongue, yet his throat still stung. And he continues to grow his usual smile, allowing you to be engulfed by his arms. Trapped. Yet it was home. A comfortable gesture he always did in hopes of having the moon twirl around your figure; this time, slowly and closely inching towards the kitchen window.

“Don’t worry, my sweet,” he says, tone so honey-like. “I will always love you…”

He puts his head down, sighing deeply. A ghost deep within him, cravely so desperately for a type of joy when your presence was not around, regardless of the immense suffering that he’d go on the daily. Yet he was reminded that his presence was not alone, and Dazai allowed his own walls to crumble down for that moment—he squeezes your body close to yours, matching your beats along with his; chest to chest. Rather than fortifying his walls, instead, he gives his emotions to you—an open desire. Yours. His. Together—tied as forbidden spirits.

“I’m just trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

tags: @whorefordazai @tender-rosiey @internetkilledtheroxstar @sadcannibal @bsdparadise @pompompurin1028 @amemuraa @tetsustation @milky-toast @missrown @requiem626k @jessbeinme15 @kyuus4ku @so-chile @kiyokoxd @dazaiaiko @meatbun-aku @chuuyasboots

#bsd dazai x reader #bsd dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai imagines #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai #Spotify

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crappycamille · 3 years

Text

On Stand-By (bakugou x reader)

minors DNI

warnings: 18+, voyeurism/exhibitionism, somnophilia-ish (not really), unprotected sex, masterbation

Bakugou couldn't have been dreading a mission more. Why the hell did his agency have to put him, of all people, on this task. Okay fine- he knew that he was the one most fit for the mission but still. This was a pain in the ass.

The Commission was having trouble with a smaller gang of criminals. The mission was for him to wait on stand-by in a small apartment adjacent to the building where the gang's hideout was. Nothing Bakugou couldn't handle on his own, but still, the Commission had to put you on the job too. It wasn't that Bakugou didn't like you, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He always had a hard time controlling himself whenever you were around.

How the hell was he supposed to control himself when you always strolled into his agency in that skin-tight hero suit of yours? When you would come in and shamelessly flirt with his friends. He would see your fights on the news, but he couldn't even focus because with every kick your ass jiggled in such a delicious way. And when that bubbly butt came strolling into his office it took everything in his power to not take you right on his desk.

His pants tightened at the thought of you fucked dumb underneath him. Imagining what your pretty face would look like contorted into a fucked out expression. He wanted to ruin you. However, Bakugou needed to keep it professional. The Commission would often pair the two of you together since you were one of the few people who could keep up with him in combat and agility. Another reason why Bakugou sought after you. So when he heard he would have to be stuck in an apartment with you all day for two weeks he couldn't help but complain.

To make matters worse, when he showed up at the apartment there was only one bedroom. The couch was way too small for either of you to sleep comfortably. So, the two of you had to sleep in the same bed. His assistant sure got an ear full.

The first couple of days weren't bad. The two of you tried to spend the time as far away from each other as possible within the small studio apartment. Aside from simple greetings, neither of you talked to each other very often. Either one of you getting out of the shared bed as soon as you woke up to wordlessly make breakfast. You knew Bakugou well, so if keeping your distance would keep him in a decent mood for longer... the better for you both.

The instructions were to not leave the apartment by any means. The two of you were just supposed to wait for the call. And all Bakugou could do was hope that it was sooner than later.

Everything seemed to be going fine... that is until Bakugou woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of your slutty little fingers deep in your cunt. He couldn't believe his ears. Were you really masturbating with him right next to you?

You were almost too quiet to hear... almost.

You weren't making much noise aside from your labored breathing and the occasional whispered mewl. What gave you away was the not-so-quiet sound of your pussy. It was clear that you were drenched. Bakugou had to do everything in his power to not groan out as he imagined how wet you were.

He was painfully erect, but he didn't dare move a muscle in fear that you would figure out he was awake. He relished in the sounds of your cunt, wishing he could see it for himself.

He listened to you finish and quickly scurry over to the bathroom before falling back asleep. All while leaving him with a painful hard-on for the rest of the night. You were making this so difficult for him.

You went on during the day regularly, clearly unaware you had been caught. But each night the same thing happened. Bakugou would wake up to the sound of you. Some nights were quick and others you took your time to tease yourself. All while he would quietly palm himself to gain some relief. All of it was driving him crazy.

But then. Then... he heard it. Clear as day... His name.

"B-Bakugou" the sound came out as a breathy moan. It was a lot less subtle and quiet than you had intended it to be. Too lost in pleasure to realize the blond next to you heard you cry out for him. A sound that shot straight to his cock. A sound that made him feral.

He snapped.

In one swift motion, he pushed himself on top of you. A hand coming to grab the hand you had been teasing yourself with to keep it in place. A way of showing you he knew what you were doing.

Your eyes shot open wide in surprise, fear written all over your face as his predatory vermillion eyes glared down at you.

"B-B-Bakugou! It's not what it looks-"

"It's not what?" His voice deep and rasped. "It's not me catching you knuckles deep in your pussy being a fucking pervert?" Your pussy fluttered at his crude words. Taking your wrist into his large hand he brought your fingers, soaked in your essence, up to his mouth to suck on them. Groaning out at finally being able to taste you.

"It's not me catching you moan my name while you get yourself off while I was 'sleeping' next to you? Hm? Fucking slut. I bet you wanted to be caught."

"N-No I-"

"N-No I-" he mocked, a smirk gracing his face as he watched you squirm with humiliation. "Quit acting like you haven't been doing this all week." Your eyes widened at the realization he had heard you the entire time.

He began to rut against your clothed crotch, needing to alleviate the ache of his cock. Your hips matching his pace. Grinding against him with need. "What's the matter?" he said with a mocking pout. "Didn't think I'd notice?"

But Bakugou did fail to notice. He failed to notice that you felt the same way about him as he did you. He failed to notice when you would come to his agency more often than what was needed, just to see him. That you went out of your way to impress him on missions. That you would go out of your way to look good for him. That you would often stare for far longer than you were supposed to.

Being in such close quarters with him caused so much tension to well-up in you. You knew it was wrong. You hadn't intended to get caught, you just needed a way to relieve yourself. But in all honesty the thrill of getting off right next to the man you yearn for added to the pleasure. And being in the same bed as the handsome blond with his broad, sculpted back facing you made your lewd imagination run wild.

Your mind was brought back to the present as you felt your shorts being pulled down your legs. Before you could even react, Bakugou's strong hands pried your knees apart to reveal your sopping cunt to his hungry eyes.

He had waited so long for this.

"Bakugou wait-" He cut you off with a sharp slap to your inner thigh.

"It's Katsuki to you. Wanna hear you say my name. Got it." He said as he pressed a lasting kiss to your clit. The act was so gentle it seemed almost uncharacteristic. You couldn't help but nod senselessly, not entirely sure what you were agreeing to.

Before you knew it, the "gentle Katsuki" was gone. Two fingers slid into your slick entrance and began to rapidly pump against your velvet walls.

You immediately clamped down around his fingers due to the sudden intrusion. Your hips trying to get away from the surge of pleasure.

"Ah ah ah. Don't run away." A sadistic grin plaster on his face. "Be a good girl and take it."

"Oh fuck!" a strangled moan released from your lips. "It's too much!"

"Too much?" he said with a mocking laugh. "How the hell do you expected to take my cock if you can't take my fingers, hah?" In reality, Bakugou knew he was torturing you. Giving you no time to even think. Confusing you with going between being gentle and rough within a matter of seconds.

He wanted you to suffer, at least a little. After a week of making him suffer. Making him fight against himself for wanting to hold back. But most of all he was just enjoying seeing you squirm. As much as he imagined you in a state of pleasure, you far exceeded his expectations.

Your eyes half-lidded, struggling to keep them open as your eyes roll back. Eyebrows knitted together. Drool spilling at the corner of you of your gaping mouth that's moaning out his name just like he asked more like commanded. Fuck, you were so sexy.

You had already been teasing yourself. Edging yourself closer and closer to an orgasm, so you were already so close. The pressure building was like no other.

"So close! So close! I'm gonna cum, Katsuki." As much as Bakugou wanted to deny you relief, much like you unintentionally did to him, he couldn't bear to hold back any longer. He wanted to see you come fully undone. He brought his face down to lap and suck on your clit. Pushing you further over the edge.

"Do it. Cum all over me." The pressure snapped inside you. Breaking like a dam. You squirted all over. All over his face, his hands, and the bed.

"Holy shit!" He groaned; his hands never stopping. Working you to elongate your climax. Your hips bucking up to meet the thrust of his hands. His own hips bucking against the bed.

He swears he could cream just from the sight of you squirting like that.

Your hands curl into his hair to pull him into a needy kiss. Your slick dribbling down Bakugou's chin. He can feel your clit steadily throbbing from the overstimulation.

"Please Katsuki. I need it." You whine. "Need to feel you."

Bakugou couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't tease you for a second more. He was so hard it hurt.

"I know you do baby. I know. I need it too." He hurriedly releases his cock from the confines of his shorts. Sighing in relief as he rubs himself against your wet folds. Your hands were all over each other. Grabbing and groping at whatever you could. Both of you were so needy.

You've both wanted this for so, so long.

You hiss when you felt the stretch from Bakugou's thick cock. Bakugou wanted nothing more than to pound into you, but he felt as though he was going to cum any second. Your warm, velvety walls already fluttering around him.

"So fucking tight." He said through a groan. "Relax a little, will ya, you're choking me." He said pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Tears prick your eyes as he begins to move. Snapping his hips up to press the tip of his cock to your cervix in a way no one else has.

"Fuck yeah. So good, you're being so good for me." his praises coming out in mumbles as began to get lost in his own pleasure. "Come on, gimme one more. Cum for me like a good little slut."

"Nuh-uh. I can't." You cried out.

"You can and you will." His hand reached around to circle your puffy clit. Throaty grunts leaving Bakugou as your walls fluttered around him. "Shit. That's it, pretty girl. I want you to cum on my cock."

Your nails dug deep into Bakugou, holding on for dear life. "Cum with me Katsuki! Please. Want you to cum inside me!"

Pleasure clouded Bakugou's vision as pushes himself to fuck you through your orgasm, but he's not far after. Hips stuttering before he painted your walls white.

A sigh leaving him when he finally comes back to his senses, slipping out of you with a hiss as the cold air hits him. But holy- if he looked at you for too long he would get hard again. Seeing his cum leak out of you was a like a dream come true.

Maybe being on stand-by wasn't so bad after all.

a/n: thank you for reading. this is my first fic so feedback is welcomed and appreciated

#bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #thanks for reading

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samstree · 3 years

Note

36 for kiss prompts and/or 23 from touch prompts?? i'm so happy for your dynamic return!! 😌

Lean on Me

36. “kissing away tears” + 23. “carrying the other one in their arms” from the touch asks. Thanks for the prompt, my dear! <3

In which Jaskier is a stubborn idiot. Geralt is there for him.

(1.4k, aftermath of torture, mentions of blood and injury, panic attacks, vomiting, read on AO3)

---

“Oh, finally!” Jaskier lets out a sigh, his ribs aching at the exhale. “My dear, you don’t know how I’ve longed to see your beautiful face! These two gentlemen—on top of being the rudest persons in the entirety of the Nilfgaardian empire—have the most hideous complexions I’ve seen! Seriously, does being a royal torturer suck away your soul along with your good looks?”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

Geralt fumbles with the shackles around Jaskier’s wrists, refusing to look up. The motion pulls at the flayed skin a little. Jaskier gasps when one of the restraints falls to the floor. He uses the air to resume his rambling.

“Dull as fuck, they are. It’s always ‘tell me where they are, or we’ll beat you to death’ as if I didn’t infer from their mean faces on the first day. Urgh! So unimaginative! You’d think an army that swept through the continent could hire someone more competent. Professionals, maybe—”

The other wrist comes out and Jaskier abruptly tips forward, his knees giving way. Luckily, strong arms catch him around the waist without a moment of doubt, and Jaskier finds himself face to face with the prettiest amber eyes in the world.

“Hey,” Jaskier says, realizing that he’s bitten his lower lip in a panic. The old wound reopens and he tastes blood. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

A gentle hand comes up to push back the hair in Jaskier’s eyes, revealing his forehead and, undoubtfully, the gash there and all the dried blood. He feels exposed like this.

“Jaskier,” Geralt breathes, the whisper too careful for Jaskier to handle after all these days. “You are in shock.”

“What? No, I’m not!”

Jaskier frowns, and struggles on his feet to prove the point. If only his legs would cooperate and stop feeling like jelly. Geralt trails his fingers down to cup Jaskier’s jaw, a thumb hovering over what must be a patch of bruises by his lips. He presses down with the barest touch and Jaskier hisses, which tugs at his ribs again.

Geralt’s brows are knitted together with worry. “I need to get you out of here fast.”

“There’s no need to look so constipated, Geralt dear. I told you I’m fine. This—” he gestures to the tiny torture chamber. “—is nothing!”

With that, Jaskier takes a step towards the door—well, what’s left of it after Geralt smashed through the poor thing. Each step feels like he’s walking on a cloud. His arm rests on Geralt’s shoulder but refuses to lean into his witcher’s solid strength. Geralt doesn’t seem convinced, with a hand still at Jaskier’s waist, just shy of touching his throbbing side.

“Let me tell you, they couldn’t even follow through on most promises. Apparently, the emperor himself gave orders to keep me alive. I’m a valuable asset! So, you see, all the talks of opening me up with those colorful gadgets were nothing but empty threats. I could laugh at those idiots!”

As they stumble out of the room, Jaskier can’t help but get another glimpse of the table full of devices—pliers, knives, a chainsaw, and something that looks like a stack of thick needles, except every five of them are attached to make the perfect shape to go into someone’s fingers.

A shudder runs down his back—not from fear, of course. It’s a draft in the hallway.

“Hmm. And they are the idiots.”

“For messing with me and not finishing the job—Oh, there they are.” Two mangled bodies are barely visible in the dark corner, with blood seeping into the floor. “Did you give them hell? I bet you did. The White Wolf’s wrath is no joke, not when his bard is taken. Not that it was too much of a bother for me, mind you. I’m fine.”

The urge to repeat the word is overwhelming despite the crack in his voice. Jaskier licks at the cut on his lip just like he’s done in the past few days. It was the only soothing motion he could manage while being bound in metal. The warmth of Geralt’s body is miles better, so much so that a disorienting fog is forming before Jaskier’s eyes, darkening the edges of his vision.

“Sure you are. Just…hang on, just a little longer,” Geralt pleads, a bit desperately. For what, Jaskier isn’t sure.

Geralt takes Jaskier’s elbow with his other hand, guiding him forward toward the exit. He’s acting like that again, like he’s around a spooked horse or scared children. Jaskier turns in confusion and rests his temple against Geralt’s cheek, but he’s rudely dislodged quickly.

“Portal,” Geralt warns.

Before Jaskier has time to react, cold wind is cutting into his cheeks and his bare feet sink into thick snow. Kaer Morhen stands tall as always, and Jaskier wants to sag with relief—

Before a spell of nausea hits him in full force, turning his insides into a swirling mess. Jaskier can barely push Geralt away before crumbling onto the icy ground and heaves out whatever little content in his stomach. There’s not much. It’s not like a prisoner’s diet is on top of Nilfgaard’s priorities.

“Portals… Can’t complain when we are in a hurry, right?”

Jaskier chokes out a laugh while trying to wipe away the bile at his lips. The coldness is creeping up on him, making him tremble like a leaf. He hugs the hollow of his stomach, but the involuntary spasms jostle his sensitive ribs again, drawing out a whimper. Everything hurts. His mouth is filled with cotton, his head pounding like fireworks exploding inside his skull.

The next attempt to stand fails, and he ends up in a heap of misery with nothing but the raggedy shirt on his back. Jaskier takes in gulps of air but can’t find any release. His lungs are burning with the aftershock of panic.

It’s like a dam breaking. The reality sinks in, of what could have happened. Of what did happen.

Jaskier knows he’s crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks with abandon and freezing in the cold air. He can’t hide them, not when he doesn’t even have the strength to lift a hand.

A coat wraps around his shoulders, and Jaskier shudders into the contact. Geralt lowers into his vision, his head tilted so their gazes can meet. Amber eyes are flowing with patience, so much patience.

“All right,” Jaskier finally croaks, “perhaps…there’s a chance that I’m, um, I’m not quite fine.”

Geralt’s palm finds Jaskier’s cheek again, careful not to aggravate the bruises and the broken skin. Their foreheads rest together, and the only thing left in the snowy world is the sound of Geralt’s breathing. The grip on Jaskier’s airway loosens, allowing him to match the achingly unhurried rise and fall of Geralt’s chest. The familiar scent of leather and sweat is in the background, the best soothing balm for his frayed nerves, always.

Slowly, the storm calms.

“That’s it. Breathe with me, just like this. You are safe. I have you now. I have you.” Geralt murmurs into his ear, repeating the last sentence like a mantra. “I have you, Jask…”

There are more tears, but soft lips catch them in a lover’s caress. Jaskier lets himself melt into his witcher’s presence, lets his tears be kissed away.

“What should—” His teeth chatters. The snow is numbing his toes, the tingling bordering on pain. “What should I do?”

The world spins again, but this time upward. Geralt’s arms are so steady as he lifts Jaskier in one swift motion and carries him toward the keep.

“Lean on me. For now.” The corners of Geralt’s lips quirk up into something akin to a smile, but not yet. It looks physically impossible for Geralt to smile right now. “Lean on me, and don’t worry a thing.”

And Jaskier does. He leans into Geralt’s neck and rubs his damp cheek into the scent there. The sniffles don’t go away for a long time. His breaths are still shuddering, but for the first time, there’s nothing Jaskier wants to say.

For the first time, Jaskier only wants to bury himself into Geralt’s coat, into the quiet safety of his favorite witcher, and ease his mind into oblivion.

---

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #hurt jaskier #jaskier whump #cw: blood #cw: panic attack #cw: vomiting #cw: torture #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #protective geralt #jaskier being a brat #kissing away tears #hurt/comfort #chrysa your prompt was so soft #but i was in a hurt the bard mood again #oh well #there's nothing i can do #might as well lean into it

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atravisphilepsclicker · 3 years

Note

Can I get comfort from sal? So trans male reader keeps his binder on to long to the point of bruises and pain? You can chose headcanons or a one shot it’s up to you •3•

Summary: Sal comes home from his supermarket job to see you were in your shared bedroom in your shared apartment and asks how long you kept your binder on after you answer him he tries to help you with the pain.

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Word Count:1654

Pronouns: he/him

Gender: trans male

Warning: mentions of dysphoria, bruising, back pain and small injury

Modern AU

You both are in high school and Sal has a part-time job at the town Walmart.

Y/N = your name

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3rd Person POV

Sal stood in front of the apartment door with the card key in his left hand and was texting the group gc ( with him, todd, larry, ashily, maple and chug ). He turned off his phone and slid the key into the card lock and a small light turned red to green showing that it was unlocked.

Walking into the apartment Sal was met with silence. It didn’t worry him but he wondered where you were when he came home from work you usually were sitting on the couch doing something to pass the time as you waited for him but you weren’t there to give him his usual greeting of “ Hey, Sal, “ or “ Hey, blue! “

Sal then locked the door, took off his shoes, and put them on the boot rack on the door’s left side. Sal stood upright and walked into the living room and that’s when he heard it, “ Oh you’re home, Welcome back! “ Sal heard you greet him from the bedroom. The bedroom door was half open leaving him being able to see you laying on the bed in the room. Sal walked over to the door and opened it and leaned on the door frame.

He looked at you, you were so handsome laying there your legs laying straight on the bed as you scrolled on your phone. You had a tired look on your face and you bet your ass your amazing boyfriend Sal noticed and frowned, furrowing his brow. “ So how was your day today? You look tired. “ Sal asked with a slightly worried tone. You look at him with a small smile and turn off your phone, putting it on the nightstand beside your side of the bed.

“ It was fine I haven’t had a lot of sleep since I was trying to finish the dam book assignment T/N gave us. I did ask todd to help me after I finished pulling out my hair a little. So it’s done now and I won’t have to return to hell for a few days till our next assignment. But other than that I’ve had a fine day. “ You told the blue-haired male that was now on sitting on the bed beside you legs crossed with one hand holding his face listening to you.

You looked at him and asked, “ So how was your day at work? I guess the boss gave you overtime at the store again? “ You asked since he came home 2 hours later than his work schedule had said. “ Yeah, sorry! I tried to get off earlier but she just gave me so many things to do! “ He said annoyed. You leaned on one side wincing at the bit of pain moving gave you and Sal noticed. Sal was not a genius but when he saw you do that it didn’t take long for him to remember the last time a few months ago you didn’t take off your binder for longer than it intended. “ Hey, love how long have you had your binder on? “ He asked with tones of worry in his voice. You saw his eyes through the mask, they looked worried for you, the love of his life.

You sigh and close your eyes not wanting to see his reaction, “ 12 hours. “ You say quietly, almost in a mumble. “ Take it off. “ Sal told you with a stern pained voice. You were hesitant not wanting to have terrible dysphoria again, I mean that the entire reason you have had that on for so long and you both knew it. It took a little time to think but you finally surrendered. “ Fine…” You said with an upset sigh. You sat up quickly sending a jolt of pain down your spine making you lay back down and groan in pain. Sal quickly moved over to you and held your arm with one hand. “ Do you need me to help get up? It must be really painful to move. “ Sal asked rubbing circles on your arm. You make a pained smile, “ That would be really nice of you blue, thank you. “

Sal moved, straightening his back. “ Okay, first let’s sit you up just tell me when you’re ready to move and ill put my hand behind your back and push you up slowly. “ Sal told you. You waited for a minute for the pain to die down a little and told him you were ready. Sal slid his hand under the lower side of your back knowing your upper back must be in so much pain right at the moment.“ K, one...two...three! “ Sal started to move you up slowly and steadily.

Once you sat up Sal helped you lean your back on the backboard of your bed. After that Sal got off the bed and stood beside you. “ You alright? “ He asked squatting down to lead his head in your lap. “ Yeah, I’m fine just in a little bit of pain but no worries! “ You answer as you twirl a few of Sal’s soft blue locks in your fingers. “ Well...if you’re sure you’ll be fine then do you think we could try to stand you up and get that binder off of you? “ He asked in a caring tone. “ Yeah, we could try but I think I might fall over if I do. “ You cucked. SaL then stood up and held both of your arms. “ You know you don’t need to hold me like this right? “ You say as you steadily move up wincing at the pain your binder gave you to move. “ I know I just want to make sure you’re safe and won’t get hurt more than you already are. “ He started concentrating on getting you to stand up. Once you finally stood up he started getting your shirt off as you looked away embarrassed and disgusted. “ Why are you okay seeing my disgusting body? “ You aked as Sal threw your shirt on the bad behind you both. He looked bad at you and put his hand on your face and started rubbing small shapes with his thumb, “ Because I love you, and your handsome body, love. You are anything but disgusting! You're my handsome attractive boyfriend and that's what you'll always be to me, even if you hate how you look ill help you show that you're beautiful! And hey, we can always start saving up for surgery to get them removed if you really want. I’ll do anything to make you happy and I want you to know that but for now, we just need to get that binder off of you. “ He told you. You started to tear up as he started taking it off of you and finally broke down as he also put that down with the discarded shirt. “ Thank you. I love you! “ You cried on her shoulder.

“ Shhhh it’s okay….how about I give you a nice massage to relieve some of the pain? “ Sal asked calming you down slightly. You sniffed a bit and then looked at him with tear stains down your face. “ Yeah, that would be nice….” You said as you lay down in the middle of the bed. Sal sat down beside you and rolled up his sleeves. He first put his hands on your shoulders, thankfully they were warm and he started messaging the notes out. It felt good and you gave a big sigh. He then moved to where your bruises and cuts are from the binder. His hands became softer on your skin and he was careful to relieve some of the pain not give you some more. You felt a wave of relief when the pain died down you didn't even notice when Sal stopped till he said something to you. “ I'm going to get some ointment to put on the bruises! “ He told you walking out of your bedroom.

You stare at the wall in front of you as you listen to his movement, him opening the bathroom door then him opening the cupboard and moving some things around till he found the ointment. You looked over at the door as Sal walked in medicine in hand. He sat back down beside you were still laying on your stomach. “ This is going to be cold on your skin. “ He said opening the medicine and putting some on his finger. He put some on a large bruise and yeah, he was right, it's fucking cold. You wince at the cold feeling on your skin but you soon get used to the feeling as Sal rubbed it in more.

Soon enough he was done and you were tired mentally and physically. You look at your wonderful boyfriend beside you scrolling on his phone. “ You think we can cuddle? “ You ask looking at him with i tired and pained face. “ He turned off his phone and looked at you with beautiful and caring eyes. “ Sure, love! Let me just take off my mask. “ He told you unclipping the clips under his hair. You didn't even really notice he still had it on but was happy he's still comfortable taking it off around you. After setting his mask down on the nightstand he layed his back on the backboard and moved his arms out waiting for you to come in his arms. You crawled over to Sal and went into his comforting arms. You both stayed there in the quiet only sounds of small movement and breathing in air. Soon enough your eyes started getting droopy and you started letting out cute yawns. You hear Sal chuckle and you say a quick shut up before your eyes closed for good and you fell fast asleep going into an amazing and magical dream.

Now you both were together and that wouldn't change ever even if either of you struggles with things or life throws things at you you'll always be there for each other, from now and forever.

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Pictures

Sal Fisher- https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/496873771387590071/

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Sorry if this was terrible! I honestly loved writing this but was having some trouble getting my ideas down on the computer so it might seem quite bad, but hopefully, this helps even a little and have a great day/afternoon/night and remember to stay hydrated!

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saintshigaraki · 3 years

Text

the sun has not yet fallen

pairing: bakugou katsuki x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k

excerpt: You look back towards the setting sun just once. You don’t really know why. Perhaps to find some bravery in the beauty of it, to steal yourself a few extra seconds of this limbo you’ve found yourself in. Where everything is hazy and beautiful and hurts so bad you can hardly breathe.

a/n: me: i hate angst

also me: writes this fic

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sometimes love requires work

in case you want to read it on ao3!

Katsuki is in a bad mood. He was uncharacteristically quiet when he walked through the door which is more often than not a sign he was trying his damndest to hold back saying something just a bit too cruel. And you appreciate the effort, truly you do.

On any other day, you would’ve let him be to work through his shit alone. He usually does that by cooking up something far too elaborate for a weekday night, and then after decompressing for a bit, he tends to slink back into whichever room you’re in and lay his head on your lap so you can work your fingers through his hair.

You’ve found over the last two years that that is what tends to work best. Giving him space and letting him come to you.

But today you’re feeling just as raw as he does. You can’t remember the last time you spent quality time together. You can’t remember the last time he didn’t go to bed so exhausted he was out before his head hit the pillow. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel this heavy cloud hanging over your head. You can’t remember a moment where there wasn't a timer counting down and down and down while you do nothing but wait for it to hit zero. You’re not quite sure what will happen when your time is up.

It’s selfish, probably, to want to be with him right now when you know he’s so weary, but you won’t even bother him, is what you tell yourself. You just want to be around him for an hour (or two) you want to stand so close to him you can smell the ever clinging scent of caramel and help him with dinner and think of brighter days. Better days.

(You want things to go back to the way they were before. You want to cling to him, just for a short while, stuff your face into the crook of his neck while he tells you everything’s okay. That you guys are okay.

But that’s for another day. It has to be.

How many times have you told yourself that?)

You follow him as he stomps towards the kitchen.

He aggressively grabs the ingredients for whatever he’s making and slams them on the counter, grumbling under his breath the whole time. You stand in the doorway worrying your hands, feeling awkward, and hating that you feel awkward in your own kitchen with your own boyfriend.

It makes that awful nagging voice in your head grow just a bit louder.

You approach him slowly while he sets up a pot filled with water and turns on the stove. He’s still grumbling to himself by the time you place your hand softly on his forearm.

He jerks away immediately and narrows his eyes. You viciously stamp down exactly how awful that makes you feel. How small and unloved.

“What do you want?” he says bluntly (and a little cruelly but a part of you says just ignore it, maybe if you close your eyes and cover your ears you can pretend that everything is fine, that you guys are fine) .

That was part of his charm when you two first started dating. You loved that he was blunt, that he got to the point, there was really no guessing what Katsuki was thinking because he’d simply tell you and if it were any other day perhaps his words wouldn’t have bothered you as much as they did now.

And it’s partly your fault, or maybe even mostly. Because you let it get this bad. You could have told him something was bothering you, that lately, you’ve been feeling a little insecure in this relationship. Katsuki was blunt but very rarely if ever cruel with you or your feelings. He would’ve understood, probably.

But anytime you thought about broaching the subject with him, he always looked so, so tired. Bone tired. And you thought maybe it was selfish, to want him to comfort you over something this dumb. Over something as frivolous as this. He just needs time.

(How much time, you wonder. How much more can you take? you ask yourself.)

“Are you fucking braindead or something,” he snaps, dragging you out of your spiraling.

“I was just wondering if I could help. It’d be nice to cook dinner together.” We use to do it all the time, you almost say. Now you can’t even remember the last time you did.

“You’re a shit cook,” he says.

It’s true, and on another day, a brighter day maybe, you would’ve laughed. Or at least smiled. Because it was true. You are an awful cook, a shit one, as he so eloquently put it, especially compared to him. But that never mattered to Katsuki before.

He always let you cook with him, always wanted you to cook with him, even if the majority of the time you ended up sitting on the counter swinging your legs and watching him do all the work.

To be fair, afterward, you always cleaned the dishes. It was a lovely, simplistic give and take, one you wish you had again so, so dearly.

“Yeah, I am,” you agree. You try to smile, but it feels forced. You’re tired, you realize, bone tired.

You don’t say anything else and he turns away. You know that’s technically a dismissal but you elect to ignore and start unwrapping the vegetables.

Just as you reach for a knife he grabs your wrist.

“What the fuck is up with you right now?” he grounds out.

“I just want to spend some time with you.”

Your voice sounds frail, even to your own ears.

And before he even opens his mouth you know what he’s about to say is going to bring all this to a head. And from the look on his face and the awful, gnawing in your gut, you know you’re not going to like it. You know that more likely than not, it’s going to break your heart.

(A part of you can’t help but wonder if maybe your heart has already been broken. That it’s made up of haphazardly glued together pieces. Perhaps that’s why you feel so fragile. Perhaps the damage is done and you’ve just been waiting for Katsu to bring down the axe. To scatter the pieces. To finish the fucking job.)

“God,” he spits out. And it’s like a dam has been broken and every hateful thing he’s ever thought about you can’t help but come pouring out.

“You’re so fucking needy, you can’t do a fucking thing by yourself. It’s like all you ever do is breathe down my fucking neck and tell me everything I’m not doing for you.” Distantly, you wonder if that’s true. It might be. Maybe it’s that ugly selfishness you’ve never really been able to hide. You thought you’d done a better job of tucking it away. You were wrong, it seems.

“So I can’t spend every single fucking second of every single day with you, sue me. I’ve got my own shit to deal with, my own problems, or have you forgotten that I have a life outside of you?”

No, you think. I haven’t. Or maybe you have. You’re not really focusing so hard on his words. You tune them out as much as you can. You’re staring at his face, taking in all the details. The deep red of his eyes, the pale blond of his hair, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the slope of his neck, the little scars peppering his face. You used to sit on his lap and kiss each and every one, no matter how faint.

You’re so weird, he’d say as you did it, but the tightness of his arms around you always spoke a different story.

You’re going to miss that, you think. Holding him. Loving him.

It takes you a while to realize he’s still yelling. It’s all hateful and cruel and so sharp. Like he’s taken a knife to your skin to flay you open, exposing every crack, every vein, every shattered piece of heart that makes you. You let it wash over you, like a particularly violent ocean wave.

“Sometimes,” he says, his voice finally quieting to a bearable level, “I wonder why I’m still with you.”

The breath you let out is shaky. No matter how ready you thought you were, there’s simply no amount of time that prepares you to hear those words from him. From the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. From the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

The silence between you two is deafening. And heavy. So heavy it feels as though your chest will cave in from the pressure.

“Yeah,” you say at last, though you have to force the words around the burning iron poker in your throat. And then you laugh, you can’t help it. It’s all so fucked. You hate that it’s come to this bitter monstrous ugliness.

When had this all started to fester, to rot? you wonder. Is this really all that’s left?

“I can’t help but wonder the same thing.” It comes out more bitter than you'd like. A small jab to try to even out the gaping wound he’s torn open in you.

But it’s also true.

You can’t see his reaction through the tears clouding your vision. You don’t really want to anyway. What’s done is done. What’s said is said.

You grab your phone and keys and walk through the front door, closing it softly behind you.

He doesn’t say a word.

You think if there was any part of your heart left unbroken, his silence has shattered it to oblivion.

You walk for an hour or two. Until the sun has dipped almost completely below the horizon and it’s surrounded by hazy blood-red waves.

It’s a good place to think. To set your jumbled thoughts in order.

It takes a special kind of selflessness to love a hero, you realize. A type you don’t possess, not even nearly. You’ve always been just a little selfish when it came to love. But there’s no room for that when with people like Bakugou Katsuki.

And that’s okay, you tell yourself.

It’s a lie. It’s not okay. And the hollow aching in your chest that beats in time with your heart agrees.

You look down at your phone.

33 missed calls from Katsu

You look back towards the setting sun just once. You don’t really know why. Perhaps to find some bravery in the beauty of it, to steal yourself a few extra seconds of this limbo you’ve found yourself in. Where everything is hazy and beautiful and hurts so bad you can hardly breathe.

It’s not long before you’re biting the inside of your cheek, turning on your heels, and heading home.

You don’t even have your keys fully out of your pocket before the door swings open, with Katuski on the other side looking a bit worse for wear, though you doubt you’re one to talk.

His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is a bit pink. He’s been crying. You can’t remember the last time you saw him cry.

(That’s a lie, you realize. You had gotten in the crosshairs of a particularly brutal villain versus hero showdown. The resulting injuries you suffered were severe. You’d apparently been a bit touch and go for a while. When you opened your eyes for the first time after everything, Katsu was right there, looking like hadn’t slept, showered, or eaten for days. Later you found out it’s because he hadn’t left your bedside since you returned from surgery.

Katsu, you’d croaked out weakly, stretching out a shaking hand toward his face.

He broke down into sobs so violent they wracked his whole body. It took him over an hour to calm down.)

You got about half a foot through the door before he threw himself at you. Wrapping his arms around you so tight it bordered on painful. He sinks down to the floor. You sink with him.

He’s sobbing into your shoulder repeating a mantra of, I’m so sorry and I didn’t mean it. Please, please. I didn’t mean it.

You think about that old saying. What a person says in anger is how they really feel. You don’t necessarily believe that. You yourself have said things out of anger that you in no way meant, that were purely thrown to hurt the person on the other end.

You want to believe he didn’t mean it, more than anything you do. Because you love him. Because you really do think that Katsu is it for you. That he’s always been it for you.

You pull away about as far as he’ll let you.

“Do you love me, Katsuki?”

The words hang in the air. You feel raw. Like you’re the one who has taken a knife to your own skin and flayed it all open for him.

You don’t quite know vulnerability until you ask someone if they love you. It’s a different sort of weakness.

“Yes,” he responds. His voice rough from his tears. “More than anything.”

You watch one last tear fall from his eye.

You hold his face in your hands and wipe it away. Softly. Gently. Lovingly.

You guys are not okay and now that you’ve accepted that you think there’s a chance that one day, you will be.

#bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #vicwritesbnha #bnha imagine #mha imagine #i’m thinking a shinsou hitoshi fluff drabble next 👀#vicwrites

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write-nerdy-to-me · 3 years

Text

~ destiel fic, hurt/comfort, 1k words, for @castielsdisciple

“Be still,” Dean murmurs to Cas when he flinches away again. He’s tried to minimize how much he pokes and digs, knowing what a bitch it is to be on the business end of pliers, but he can’t help that some of the shards are buried deep. He waits patiently as Cas takes a large swallow from the whiskey bottle he’s clutched like a lifeline, then Dean picks out yet another broken glass piece and drops it into the cup next to his hip.

It couldn’t have just been a cut-and-dry D-list case, because life — this life especially — doesn't work like that. It was inevitable for shit to go sideways on them, and it’s laughable, fucking inane Dean ever dared to think otherwise. (“Good things do happen, Dean,” Cas said to him once. Dean’s still not convinced that's true.)

Dean doesn’t know what it is about Cas, but the monster, like, fixated on him. The whole night, no matter how hard Dean fought to get the ugly bastard's attention, it kept going after Cas. Then monster grabbed and fucking bodily tossed him out the window and let out a roar that felt like it shook the whole house; Dean's only felt his heart leap into his throat like that a few times. He didn't get time to even process what happened because the monster, having taken out one opponent, turned and advanced on him. Dean had to finish the job alone, not knowing if Cas was even still alive. He ran to find Cas lying on a patch of wood chips, shattered glass surrounding him like a halo. Those few short moments felt like several lifetimes as he slid to his knees next to Cas, who was winded and aching and breathing. ("You alive?" Dean asked, and Cas huffed out a pained laugh and flipped him the bird. "Yeah — yeah, you're alive, you asshole.")

Dean could swear that Cas has a deathwish or something because the reckless motherfucker refused to be checked out at the hospital. Dean insisted that he needed to go, as only so much could be done with the sparse supplies they had. They argued, and in the end, Cas’ stubborn glare won out. If he was gonna be like that, then Dean figured the sooner they get a move on and save Cas from his own bullheaded stupidity, the better. The last thing they need is Cas getting an infection. And the way he climbed into the Impala, slow, graceless, hiding his winces and grinding his teeth, only further proved that they should head to the hospital, but Dean held his tongue.

The ride back to the motel was, to say the least, unpleasant. In their room, it’s not much better.

For the past hour now, Dean’s painstakingly removed a myriad of embedded glass and wood shards from Cas’ back, wiped away the blood, and applied ice to the welts that have already turned angry and dark. Cas hasn’t said a word since their fight— that disagreement back at the old farmhouse, but Dean's talked plenty for the both of them. He’s lost count of how many times he’s repeated this mantra: Be still, be still. How many times it’s followed by tiny plinks of glass and wood into a plastic cup. Dean would think Cas finds it patronizing — insulting, even — if it weren’t for the way the coiled tension in Cas’ shoulders starts to ease whenever he speaks. If it makes this process easier for him… well, then who’s Dean to deny him?

“Be still. I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Another glass piece. Plink.

The A/C unit in the corner kicks over with a wheeze. Cas says, “I don’t deserve this,” in a voice so hushed Dean would’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting right behind him.

Dean’s hands stop, just for a moment. Plink, plink. “What are you talking about?”

Cas sighs. “I don’t deserve this. Your attention, your care, your lo—” He cuts himself off, arms coming around his middle and shoulders hunching away from Dean’s hands. A soft hiss escapes his lips as the motion tugs sharply at his wounds. He sounds like wishes he could take back the words the second they leave his mouth and hates himself for it. “Your kindness. I don’t deserve it.”

How could Cas think so little of himself? Believe himself so unworthy that he shouldn’t even receive the most basic care? But Dean gets it, maybe more than Cas realizes. “That’s bullshit,” Dean says mildly. Plink.

“Dean...” Cas starts to shift further away from him, and that won’t do, because he needs to listen, needs to hear what Dean’s telling him, and he won’t if he’s already sinking into himself.

“Don’t, I’m not finished,” Dean admonishes quietly. “I’m serious. Don’t move.” He touches Cas’ waist and— and he just stills with a shaky breath. If this were any other time, Dean would dwell on how Cas caves at the slightest touch initiated from him, how he always just lets him.

When it seems like Cas isn’t on the verge of bolting, Dean says, “I know there's something about this case that got to you bad — don’t think I didn’t notice, man.” Hunts aren't easy, and unexpected bodies turning up are never something a good hunter takes lightly, but Cas seemed to take each one like a devastating blow. Dean tried to press Cas about it, and he shook off Dean’s worry and pretended that everything was fine. Dean doesn't have to be a good hunter to know Cas was lying. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Cas turns his face away. “There’s nothing to talk about.” A beat. Then, “I think you’d be better off hunting with Sam again.”

The fuck? Taken aback, heat starts to crawl up Dean’s face. Part of him wants to be angry — hell, he kinda is, underneath the hurt — but he takes a breath and lets it out slowly, for once grateful Cas is facing the other way. “I like hunting with you. Besides, Sam's got his club going on, and anything with Eileen he likes to be involved.”

“Maybe you should have a different partner. One that doesn’t fuck up.”

“Everyone fucks up,” Dean says defensively. “Cas, if this is about what you did, you’re already forgiven for that—”

But Cas isn’t listening. The dam's busted open. “I’m supposed to— I used to be an angel. My powers, I could... I could help you, I could help Sam, but now I can’t — I can’t even do that.” Cas covers his face with his hands, rakes them roughly up through his hair. “I’m — I’m useless.”

Dean’s heart clenches sharply. He knew that the fading powers and subsequent loss of them had been hard on Cas, but Dean didn’t know it was affecting him this badly. Then he feels like an asshole, because of course this was, for fuck's sake. “Cas…”

Cas turns around, winces as he moves too quickly. He touches Dean’s face with gentle, hesitant fingers. There are scrapes and cuts Dean hasn’t taken care of yet, too occupied with making sure Cas doesn’t get a damn infection. Cas’ eyes grow sad; his brow furrows. “I miss— With a touch, I could heal you. I wouldn’t need you to care for me this — this way.”

“Cas, man, you gotta know that it’s never been about your powers. You’re not a-a tool, Cas. All I want— It’s just you. I told you, man. I’d rather have you. Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

Cas is quiet for a minute. “Your faith... I've always admired it. How you put your trust in people. You're a good man, Dean."

"Yeah, well." Dean clears his throat. "Gotta make up for all the bad shit I've done, right?"

Cas hums, unconvinced. He grabs the damp rag that held the ice, shaking out the remaining pieces. He doesn’t seem to care where the ice landed. "Let me?"

Dean almost says no, he's fine, but something in the way Cas looks at him... "Okay."

Cas wipes away the dried blood on Dean's face. Lately, he and Cas would be arguing, if they weren’t busy giving each other the cold-shoulder. It’s not the first time they’ve been at opposite ends or had disagreements — Dean refuses to say they bickered — not by a long shot. It’s just... been a while. Dean thought they were past petty fights. Now, though, they fall into a comfortable silence, for once not thick with tension from the unsaid.

Cas’ thumb traces over the scar on Dean's chin, and he says, a hopeless look in his eye, "I love you. Did you know that?"

Dean just breathes and touches Cas' wrist. "Cas..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know."

Dean tugs the rag out of Cas' hand. His mind is taking a second to reboot. But he knows — he knows he needs to kiss Cas right now. "C’mere," he mumbles and cups Cas' face between his palms and presses their mouths together. When they separate to breathe, Dean says, “It’s always you, Cas. You know that.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I love you.” The smile Cas gives him is soft and crooked and still sad. Dean’s not stupid; he knows things with Cas are rocky at best, but it’s a start. “Now turn back around so I can get the rest of the junk out, asshole.”

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insufferablelust · 3 years

Note

Can’t stop thinking about the first time Don Reid made butterfly squirt...how proud and impressed he was...head very full at the moment

NSFW UNDER THE LINE, PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

it was one of those days where he’s truly devoted his time to you, whatever his babygirl wants to do, he’ll do it. You want to take an impromptu trip to Bali? A private jet is waiting on the airport, you want to buy a whole fucking store? his card is yours to cash out. Anything you want you get, even if it’ll cost him his whole bank account.

But you aren’t no slimy bitch who raided him for his money in exchange for sex, yes the money played a big role in your relationship but sometimes it doesn’t even have to involve a dime— you’d be on his side, his ride or die no matter the cost. And the thought scare the shit outta you.

Yet, none of that matters as he lick stripes between your thighs where he has been all morning long, waken up by pleasure is not at all strange by now but this morning, the way his tongue just delve a little deeper, suck a little harder, and devour your cunt a little more eager than your usual just had you writhing and squirming like a slut in heat.

“daddy- shh-shit! oh ahh so good!” Your moans drove him wild, wilder than any other creature that roams the dark street of New York at this ungodly hour, the way your hips bucks up up up— grinding against his face which he responded with a harsh slap against your quivering swollen bud, “What did daddy said hm?”

“N-nhh daddy..” You whined, brain too mushy— delirious inside the bubble of pleasure that fogged up your reality. “Use your words, kitten. Taught you better than that.” Spencer raised an eyebrow towards her, expecting better— needing you to be better just like how he trained you.

“Princess.” He lets out a disappointed sigh, sucking your bud once more before moving away from your absolutely messy dripping core, the cries that left your lips right after almost has him cum inside his pants— the portrait of desperation shone clearly through your pants and tears that brims on your eyes.

“Sorry.. please daddy i— i won’t be greedy.. promise!” Y/N begged as she keeps on squirming, the tie that binds her wrist together keeps on tugging onto the headrest. Spencer let out a scoff as he unexpectedly lands a hard slap across your swollen cunt, bringing you to the teetering edge that you so desperately need to pass— get across.

“Ah! ha-ahh daddy n-no!” tears streamed down your face like falls to it’s river as continuous slaps were bestowed upon your poor sensitive cunt, bringing you so so close yet so far away. His tentative gaze both showing genuine care and yet mocking you at the same time— humiliating you into oblivion as he chuckled and press the heel of his palm against your clit, “Tsk, poor little thing. So so greedy yet can’t even voice out her needs, does it always have to be daddy who guides you little one hm?”

You let out wails and sobs as he massage his palm against your bundle of nerves in a rough manner, body twitching and pulling away from the mattress, “Yes yes, i— need you daddy.” Your throat cracks at the end, bubbling deep with desperation and pure utter need to just release all the pressure and build ups, though mean— your daddy was not cruel in any way would hurt you (more than necessary), so with a soft coo he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your teared cheeks before pushing his fingers back inside your warm walls, tracing the sticky fluids up up up before curling his digits to press onto that one spongy spot that has you screaming.

“That’s it princess, good girl, you wanna cum?” His voice was soft as silk yet rough as sand at the same time, your ears rang and your body hummed, every ends of your nerves twitch in anticipation as your toes curled and your eyes switched close, “yes oh— god please!” Your body starts to tremble just as he give your nipple a sharp tug.

“God is a bit over the top princess, but i’ll take it.” He chuckles yet you can’t find it in your fuzzy fogged mind to laugh, he’s god right now, the one you worship on your knees and the one that gives your your earthly and heavenly pleasure—you’re the eve to his garden. “D-Daddy..”

“I know little one, go on.. cum whenever you need to.” He cooed, sending jolts of shocks through your spine and the pulsing need that has been mounting and mounting on your cute little cunt just begging you to release.

“b-but.. i— oh daddy!” you squeezed your eyes shut, as he chuckles, pressing kisses all over your delicate glistening skin, he knows it— knows the dam you’re about to break. “I know baby, cum, cum for daddy. He’s here with you.”

You know no safer haven, than the one you felt now, bringing reality with absolute pleasure as you release and release onto his fingers— onto him, squirting and squirting onto the sheets as your body jolts and squirms on his grasp, your ears rang loudly as the muffled cooes of his voice brings more tears down your eyes.

“Good girl, so good for me butterfly. That’s it, shhh did so good for daddy, look at that pet.” His voice soothes and bring more fire to your body at the same time, as you come down from the absolute high— eyes still rolling onto the back of your head, sobbing and sobbing as he worked your cunt to its absolute finish line.

“d-d-daddy..”

“i know baby, shh, it’s okay, did so well for me.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you curled up onto his sweaty chest, knowing that everything will be different from now on.

——

my first day back! please be gentle with me and tell me what you think! send in more reqs cause my req is open!❤️

#spencer reid smut #mgg smut #smut #criminal minds smut #dom!spencer #littlebutterfly #don!reid

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deluluass · 3 years

Text

Then, the dam breaks.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; dacryphilia; mild infantilization

Kuroo's not a bad person.

Not even by a long shot. "Bad" is willfully stretching out a leg, hidden like a predator among the bushes; hungry for an unknowing soul who's naively secured with their surroundings and the crack that resounds when face finally meets floor.

Or, murder! Murder is bad, he believes.

No, Kuroo isn't capable of any of those things. He might seem like he has a mean streak about him. What, with his sharp tongue and that incorrigible self-satisfied smirk (according to Yaku) and his words that may or may not sting like a backhanded slap sometimes. But that's all in good humor.

Well-deserved, too, when given to the right asshole. And if he does manage to get under the skin of the wrong person, Kuroo's not above offering an apology.

And he means it. (Occasionally.)

There's no pleasure to be had, if anyone would ask. Because, again , he's not a bad guy. He's sly: he knows that much, though he wouldn't taunt someone into visible pain just for the thrill of it.

There's a method to all this. A purpose. Not a profound one, but a reason all the same.

So he has to admit he's feeling kinda lost figuring out why, of all people, it just really had to be you.

There wasn't much of an option to begin with.

Art clubs had already been full. The other ones, you weren't much interested in. And by the time you realized your homeroom teacher would stop at nothing to remind you that this year was your last chance to do something other than study and prepare for exams, for once— well, it had already been too late to reconsider joining those.

Then a flyer was handed out to you.

"V-volley," the boy trailed off.

Try as you might but you couldn't recognize him. A feat, that, considering his blond mohawk that you could spot among a crowd of thousands.

He seemed like he'd caught a nasty spell that prevented him from meeting anyone's eyes, even as you deliberately searched his face for any sign that he'd explain himself to you. Surely, he must have a lot to say after he'd outright ambushed you from entering the cafeteria.

"You...want me to join?"

You were on the verge of asking for more details, focusing on the black cat (though it didn't look like it) drawn on the center of the curiously damp paper, only to find out that you'd been conversing with an empty hallway.

A soft grumble left you.

"Weird," you concluded, barely a whisper. "Weird, weird, weird ."

You were the volleyball team's manager since then.

"She's not much of a talker."

Lev hunched to his knees again, sounding very much like he's running out of breath.

It should've been Kuroo's cue to gently ( gently) tell him off, that Nekoma's ace would handle a minute of catching a ball with their face with much more tenacity than he does, or that Nekoma's ace shouldn't have to catch the ball with their face in the first place, period.

" Zoning out already, Ace? " he'd planned on jeering, but instead he followed the direction of the overgrown 10 year old's gaze.

Someone was talking to you.

Apologizing , was more like it, if the other student's incessant bowing until his torso fell from his body was any indication. You were outside of the gym, clipboard tucked under an arm, so it was impossible to catch a word you were saying.

Not that you were saying much. Or anything at all. You only nodded. And nodded again. And after what seemed like the world's loudest "I'm so sorry, senpai!",you immediately went back inside to refill the water bottles lined atop the bench.

"Hey," Kenma sighed, the ball in his hand aimed for a toss. "Focus."

And the cycle of Lev being an utter disappointment to the blond setter continued.

Kuroo let out a noncommittal hum, eyes never leaving you, trailing like a lost pup as you handed out water bottles to Nobuyuki and the others.

"Not a talker, huh," he muttered to himself.

How long has it been? Two weeks? Three, maybe? Kuroo could scarcely remember for how many days you'd been showing up to this sweaty pit to perform your duties. On the dot. Always. Without fail.

What he does remember was the first day.

Chin up; head held high. You strutted into their lives as if you were leading an entire militia to battle and had no time to waste.

He teased you for it when you'd already busied yourself with clean up duty a few minutes after your (short) ( extremely concise) introduction.

("Slow down there, general," he told you with a wry chuckle. He expected any reaction from you, really.)

(He just didn't expect you to actually slow down on your cleaning and pick up on the Coach's remaining paperwork right then and there, going through it like a forest fire.)

It would take him a few more days to realize that that's just how you are.

Even when you rejected a tongue-tied Yamamoto when he tried to ask you out. For a meal. With the other boys, of course.

Even when you took a hurtling ball to your leg and lost your footing and had the whole team scrambling for a stretcher, only for you to stand on your good leg, tell everyone "I'm okay," and walk to the nurse's office on your own.

(Kuroo doesn't think he's seen someone limp with so much grace before.)

His throat suddenly felt incredibly dry.

Water . Water was what he needed.

Right.

You didn't see him coming from across the court. You were sitting on the bench and your back was turned, scribbling on that clipboard propped on your lap, yet— like clockwork, your idle hand shot out to give him the last bottle to your left before he could even finish asking for one.

He felt his lips curve as he muttered his thanks around the lid.

"Say," Kuroo began.

You were reading the things you wrote back to yourself.

"Mind telling me what was that about?"

You paused. You blinked up at Kuroo.

The attention hits him like a freight train.

That clear as summer sky gaze, unclouded and bright.

It's nuts how unreal it felt. How can something so elusive be now all on him.

(Just for him.)

"Earlier," he added, licking his lips and feeling silly for the way his chest tightened. "Seemed kinda intense."

"He borrowed my notes," you said. Then back to the clipboard again.

Kuroo made himself comfortable next to you, elbow propped on his knee as he rested his chin against an open palm.

"Got a test coming up?"

"Cram school. He's in the same class."

Of course .

"Of course," Kuroo grinned. "What happened? Heard the guy apologize to you like you were about to kill him."

Laughter bubbled out of his chest. Unfortunately, you didn't seem to find it as funny as he did. Pity.

He sighed.

"Nothing too bad, I hope."

The noise of ballpoint pen scratching against paper halted.

From way at the back, Lev was prattling Kenma's ear off again. Kuroo guessed they were about to leave, walking away from the court, away from the gym and to god knows where. The whole team, too, for that matter.

Everyone seemed to have gone, diminished in that second. He couldn't hear them anymore, didn't bother to see if they're still there.

He was looking at you, after all. Really looking at you. Your grip on the pen was a tad severe, he thought; fingers determined to squeeze the ink out of the barrel.

Your face betrayed nothing. Indeed, anyone could spare you a glance and immediately guess that this is just another empty chat between acquainted individuals, conversation just for the sake of it.

Kuroo wasn't just anyone, though.

Chin up and head held high; as you'd always done. But Kuroo's close enough to see it now, unlike before: the gulps you take in between breaths; the falter in those eyes that only ever looked forward.

Chin up and head held high, but Kuroo sees now that the neck he could easily break with one hand is so tense it's essentially a string pulled too tight that's on the brink of snapping.

Oh.

"Oh," Kuroo whispered.

Oh .

"He lost it didn't he?" Kuroo realized. "Your notes."

And it did snap.

"Just..!" You looked down and bunched your pants in your fist. "No. Of course not. It's nothing," you huffed, putting the ball pen's cap back on.

You were leaving.

Kuroo stood up.

"You look upset, manager-san," he said softly, his larger frame blocking your attempts of escape. "It is bothering you, hm?"

"My notebook got-got ruined, sure," you said. "But juice stains aren't bothering me, Captain ."

There it is. You were meeting his gaze again.

" Too late for that ," Kuroo thought. There's a stutter to your words when there had been none.

Your arms are trembling and you look uncomfortable. He should stop. He knows he should stop , but whatever it is he said is chipping away at that impenetrable wall and he doesn't get what's happening now but damn, damn if that tingle running down his spine doesn't feel so fucking good.

"My bad," he chuckled. "Sorry."

He raised both his arms in a show of defeat.

"I'm- it's fine," you said through gritted teeth. "If you would just— excuse me."

Kuroo shrugged a shoulder.

"Sorry about your notes, still," he said. "Must've been important to you. We all know how much you take your studies very, very seriously."

Kuroo smirked. "You shouldn't have let him have it then."

That made you stop in your tracks.

"What do you mean?" you sought, confusion breaking your voice into what sounds like the smallest it's ever been.

Kuroo felt his breath catch in his throat.

"He needed my help, though," you rushed. "I can't just turn people away."

"Really?" Kuroo sniggered, eyebrows lifting in fascination.

"Could've sworn you were good at it," he said; whispered it so lowly, you couldn't have heard it. But you did.

You heard him, all right. Loud and clear.

Because it was just like watching someone take a bullet to the heart.

First, the disbelief.

Skin, muscles, and ligaments weren't made to be broken like that. A person wasn't created to bleed to death. And when it happens, well, all one can ask is: how could someone hurt me like this?

So you stand before him, immobile, disbelief written in those wide eyes, because how could he hurt me like this?

Then—

Then, the dam breaks.

Kuroo doesn't think that you know it; that you're gaping at him with tears streaming down your face; that you're falling apart and stripping yourself bare the more you try to temper those quivering lips with that cute little nibbling you do.

Kuroo doesn't think you know it, too.

That no one has ever been as beautiful as you are, right in that very moment.

You're not a good person.

Not even by a long shot. "Good" is an open hand, warm and soft and prepared to accept anyone in need of it. It's many things, goodness, but it most certainly isn't a dismissive attitude towards a well-meaning person who only wants to get to know you.

You hadn't gone this far in your uneventful life ignorant of what people say behind your back. "Frigid" is one. "Indifferent" on a good day. "Bitch" when someone feels like being mean.

It's not like you're mad or anything; not as if you'd built up some sort of resentment within you that now you've settled for being perpetually friendless. You have plans, is all. You just can't afford to be a constant helping hand when you've got so much to do.

So you take it.

Be a sport about it, was what you've always been told. Stiff upper lip, as they say. You remain silent about it and you endure and maybe you shed a few tears later as you lie in bed and maybe you entertain the possibility that you'll never see the end of this loneliness.

But that's neither here nor there.

The point is, this time shouldn't have been any different.

(But sometimes even the strongest walls can crumble. All it takes is one crack, then the rest would follow.)

It was a bad day.

You woke up late. You messed up the tally in the first set of practice games. You forgot the homework you'd stayed up all night to do.

And the person whom you've lended your notes to for the college entrance exams lost it.

He lost it. Conveniently just a month before the actual thing.

"I- It's nowhere to be found, senpai," he explained. "I tried looking for it everywhere but- but I.." (You don't remember the rest.)

It's fine, you told yourself. You're fine. You can do something about a little inconvenience like this. You always have.

But then Kuroo Tetsurou asked.

He's an amazing captain; even someone like you who only had a rudimentary knowledge at volleyball could understand the level of skill it requires to do what he does on the court while still managing to reign in the polarizing characters in this team together. And like most people, Kuroo Tetsurou has never cared for you.

That's what you'd always thought, concerning him. Even when there had been times when he'd let slip what he thought about you. ("You're so cold, manager-san," he pouted once after you'd refused to eat with Yamamoto and the others.)

So it blindsided you, to say the least.

The way he looked at you, as if he's privy to your darkest secrets, like he's seen you at your lowest and somehow knows you more than you did.

When he'd jabbed and poked at what you'd only later realize was already a festering wound. (" It is bothering you, hm?" he said.) And before you could think about telling him to stop, to please, please let it go, it had already happened.

(" Could've sworn you were good at it ," he said.)

This isn't news to you. Besides, there have obviously been worse digs.

But hearing it from people who think you're not listening and being told about it to your face are two vastly different things.

(Maybe it's because deep inside you'd always hoped that not everyone disliked you. That even though you're not a good person, you're not entirely bad either.)

Right in front of you, swift and without warning, he spoke only the truth.

You just weren't prepared for how deep it could cut.

"I have to go," you murmured.

It took you a few seconds to realize that you'd been crying. And when you did, you immediately wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, turning away from him and the others still engrossed in their drills.

You let your feet do the thinking, allowing it to take you wherever they wished to go ( not here. not here. anywhere but here ), finding it impossible to do so yourself when your vision is clouded with welling tears.

You moved forward, never once looked back, until you ended up inside the stark darkness of the gym's forgotten neighbor.

The shed has long been abandoned and had nothing but dust, a couple of furniture in disrepair, and the occasional bug to keep it company. It was good enough for you. You didn't need much anyway.

Except for silence.

The breaths that you'd desperately tried to control shook like dried leaves hanging onto frail branches, much like your legs, eventually collapsing at the slightest gust of wind.

All you needed was silence.

Crouched down, the feeling of bones reduced to jelly was a lot more palpable. And despite the pins and needles that you know would eventually appear like a vengeful mistress, you stubbornly pressed your knees closer to your damp face.

Stuttering inhales and short-lived exhales soon enough filled the gnawing emptiness of the shed as you count back to the moment you'd started the day to when your classmate told you that he'd lost your notebook to when you'd been told of how much of a shitty person you are and you wonder how you would've changed your decisions and how could it have gotten to this point how could it go wrong like this what did I do what did I do wrong what went —

"There you are."

You clamped your mouth shut, clenched your teeth so hard to stop their chattering. How useless.

The creaking noise of the door being closed— punctuated by the sound of the latch clicking, rendered that effort futile.

Kuroo Tetsurou locked the door.

"C-can you," you panted. "Can you please leave."

"I need some time alone," you said, every beat of your heart like the ticking clock of a time bomb. "Please."

You waited for him to do as you'd told. Maybe what happened earlier was a mistake, a slip of tongue that hurt more than it should've, and he's here to apologize. Of course. That's it, isn't it? Why else would he be here?

"I- If you want to say something, we can- we can— later."

It was as if the entire world had gone still. He said nothing; neither could you hear any hint of movement. You turned around.

"C-captain..!"

He was right there.

Right in front of you, crouched and staring right back at you. His face a hair's breadth away from yours.

Your legs shot upwards.

"What are you- ah !" You hissed, feeling every cell in your body being incessantly pricked. Finding it impossible to stand on your own, your hands scrambled to get a hold of something, anything, maybe the almost dilapidated table behind you— only to be caught in between large, strong arms.

"Careful, now," he murmured against your neck. His scalding breath like frostbite, chilling you down to your bones until you were numbed from the pain.

He slithered a hand around your waist. With blood thundering to your ears, you bit back a shriek and pushed him away with all your might. But have you forgotten? Despite that indolent swagger of his, you've witnessed how this boy pushes himself to exertion for each match and beyond. What made you think you could win against him?

And when you attempted to open your mouth and yell, he effortlessly covered it with a palm while hauling you towards the table. The thing rocked under your weight. It is amusing, what the fear of falling does to you. One moment you're thrashing your way out; the next, you're holding onto your tormentor for dear life.

"No one's gonna come for you." He shushed you like how one would when placating a rabid animal. "You really believe they would bother? With an attitude like that?"

Down, down, his hand sank to your thigh, kneading the aching flesh until all you could do was mewl out a hoarse, "S-stop. I beg y-you."

Because it's all that's left for you. No one's going to save you. Or maybe someone would. But, who? And would they, really?

(Go on, then. Try. See for yourself.)

"Kuroo-san," you whimpered. " S-stop ."

(Would they even believe you? It's your word against his. Him . Their beloved captain.)

"Tetsurou," he only said, dipping his hand lower, wrapping your freezing legs around him. "Say it."

He's everywhere. Lips tracing your chin, teeth grazing your throat; all the while your weak, pathetic arms stayed on his shoulders, thinking he'd regain his senses because he has to. He has to. He's not a bad person. He wouldn't hurt you, not in that way.

Even when rough palms are already caressing the sides of your breasts and you feel a bulge rutting against your stomach, hot and rock hard and large, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your crotch closer to his—

"Cap- Tetsurou!" You cried, trembling hands back on his chest as you sobbed and pleaded please, please, let me go, I won't say anything, I-I'll keep quiet .

He did stop. But he didn't let you go. (You're a stupid girl if you think he would). Instead, with a forefinger under your chin and a thumb on your lower lip, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze.

And when your murky vision adjusted to the shadows, the heart that wanted to escape from your chest ceased its clamoring, arresting your breath with it.

The afternoon sun peeked through the crevices of the shed's wooden walls. Red-orange light revealed a pair of iris swallowed by blown pupils, only for it to pass and shroud him back into the darkness.

"Say it again," he whispered, deep voice cracking. " Tetsurou . My name."

You tried to speak and protest once again but only a croaked snivel left you, your babbling becoming less coherent when he began planting soft kisses on both tear-streaked cheeks.

"You've been all alone, haven't you? Keeping everything to yourself all this time."

He kissed your forehead and it was so tender you wanted to die.

"My strong, brave girl," he breathed. "I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you. I- I-"

You heard him chuckle as he pressed his forehead to yours, felt it crease on your skin. "I love you."

No. No, no, no . You shook your head and closed your eyes and prayed to anyone who's listening.

"I love you," he repeated, strongly now, as if he only realized it this time around.

And then he kissed you. Just a peck. And then he kissed you again, deepening it to probe a wet tongue into your mouth. And the hand sitting lax on your neck felt like a gun to your temple.

You remained just as you were, like a plaything to do with as he pleased, as you felt calloused fingers creep inside your sweaty shirt.

"Such pretty tits," he grunted as he raised your bra over your breasts to brush your nipples, rolling and pinching and pulling them with his thumbs.

He muffled the noises you made with his own mouth still when he continued fondling you. You soon enough tasted the salt off of his palm when he left your lips to lick and pepper bites on your neck, on the valley and mounds of your breasts, sucking and lapping the stiff peaks until he was satisfied.

You tried counting, one to whatever. And when that did not work, you tried biting your own tongue to rid of the heat you fear would burst in your belly.

All that went to waste when he reached inside your pants.

"Not- not there!" you gasped, breaking your silence and wriggling out of his grasp.

He cooed. "You'll feel good. I promise."

After hooking long fingers over the hem of your panties, he briskly parted the hair and lips underneath to pull the thin cotton over the folds, over the throbbing nub trapped in the middle.

"Your pussy's so wet, sweetheart," he sighed, the tip of his middle finger drawing light circles on your clothed clit.

It was so lewd and dirty and the fact that your panties were soaked with slick was enough to burn you with shame.

"You like it, hm?"

Perhaps you whimpered out a meek "no." You couldn't tell anymore, heaving out while he continued to toy with a sore nipple as he rubbed your slippery cunt, preying on your puffed out, swollen clit.

"Feel what you do to me." He squeezed your wrist and forced your shivering hand on his crotch. "Take out my cock, baby," he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck.

"Tet-Tetsuro…san," you cried. "I can- I can't."

"Yes. Yes, you can ," he said, not halting the ministrations between your legs. "You're a big girl."

As if held by a string, he guided you, wrapped his hand around yours as he— as you stroked him, scorching and thick, up and down, just like that .

"Good girl. My good little girl," he groaned, parting your panties to the side to tease your dripping hole.

You wept harder, the inevitable only a few seconds away from you. A single finger, at first. And when he added a second one, you realized you preferred having a hand on your mouth than his lips on yours.

(Because then you wouldn't have to think of an excuse why you're suddenly swirling and brushing your tongue in time with his.)

For a while there had been nothing but the sound of two wet lips pursing against each other (along with those embarrassing squelching noises).

He treated you as if you were made of porcelain, your plush walls stroked oh so gently as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he ended the kiss and removed your hand from his cock, spit and pre-cum connecting you to him, he still handled you as if you would break at the drop of a hat.

That's why it snuck up on you, what happened, after he brought his mouth to your ear.

"Don't scream," he whispered.

Then, he rammed his fingers in your mouth.

You tasted yourself as he forced you on your back, slamming you down on the dirty table yet still carrying your weight all throughout, never letting go.

The bitter acceptance of it— that what began earlier can only conclude to this , did not prepare you for the feeling when he finally thrust himself into you.

They say it shouldn't hurt at first. If it does then he's doing it wrong.

You hardly know if it's relief or horror that dawns on you when you realize how he stretched you out so easily, despite his size. Because, by all means, this should be wrong. This is wrong.

"Gonna ruin you," he panted. "Gonna ruin you and— fuck put you back together myself."

He grinded his cock inside you deep and slow and when he hit that spot you couldn't control yourself from jackknifing so hard he had to hold you down. He does this mercilessly, pace growing more delirious until you're nothing but a choked and sputtering fool around his fingers.

"I won't ever leave you. I’m here," he cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your face as you bawled and shattered in his embrace. "I’m here ."

"So cry all you want."

#tw noncon #tw non con haikyuu #yandere kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #dark content haikyuu

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Every day, it feels like I've lost them again

Synopsis: Sam shouts at Zemo for the things he has done. Though Zemo doesn’t show it the words hurt him deeply. Later on the reader finds Zemo and talks to him about his past.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Bit of angst, Sad Zemo, mentions to his family’s death and his attempted suicide

Author note: I had plans for another Zemo one shot but then I watched a sad Zemo edit which made me cry and here we are

Cross posted on my Ao3 account under the same name

MASTER LIST

The streets seemed silent as you sadly walked home. The only sound was your footsteps dragging along the floor. The silence between all of you was piercing. Today had been an enormous failure, and you all were feeling it weighing down on you. Pushing down your hopes for things to improve. Zemo had somehow found out where the flag smashers would be, from a trusted source, he said, so you all went charging off to talk to them. It was a trap. Zemo didn’t know it was a trap either, though Sam still believed otherwise. You all had barely got out of there safely. It had been close, too close for your liking.

“There’s always tomorrow,” Zemo says, hating the stone cold silence coming from everyone.

“But there’s not,” Sam spits back angrily, “That was the one proper chance we could've had to talk to Kali, and we failed”

“You shouldn’t be so pessimistic,” Zemo argues back, rolling his eyes.

“Pessimistic. Are you for serious, pessimistic,” Sam says shaking his head at Zemo, “You hear this guy I’m the pessimistic one”

“Leave it Sam” Bucky mutters trying to push him along, but Sam refuses.

Sam steps towards Zemo, standing just a few centimeters away from his face, his eyes glaring daggers at him. Zemo stops walking, clenching his jaw and tilting his head to stare back at Sam, not breaking eye contact.

Both you and Bucky glance at each other, not really sure if you should stop this or let it happen.

“You could have led us to our deaths today, Zemo, which I am sure was your intention. You make it clear that you wouldn’t hesitate to see any of us off to our funerals. All because you got butt hurt about the avengers preventing Ultron from destroying the earth at the cost of your country.”

The breath leaves your mouth as the words slip out of Sam’s mouth. Your lips, slightly ajar, turn to look at Sam. He’s breathing heavily, glaring at Zemo. Zemo’s lips curled down into an angry frown and his eyebrows furrowed. You could see his fists curl up, something Bucky must have noticed as well, and he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder to pull him away from Zemo.

“Sam this isn’t the time”

Sam finally gives in and pulls back, but Zemo steps forward, grabbing onto his jacket. Bucky reaches for his gun, but Zemo waves his hand at him, motioning him not to.

“You don’t know the first thing about me, Sam.” is all he says, letting go of Sam’s jacket roughly and storming off.

It would be hours later till you saw him again. During that time your mind was often thinking back to Zemo. When you really thought about it, you realised you knew nothing about him. Heck, until recently you didn’t know he was a Baron. All you had been told was that he was a Sokovian who wanted to split the avengers up because of what they did to his country. Being a Baron, you supposed that made it more personal for him. Still, it felt like something was missing. Something didn’t add up.

You laid in one of the many guest rooms tossing and turning while all these thoughts flooded your mind. Eventually you gave up on the idea of ever getting sleep tonight and got up. If you weren’t sleeping, you might as well get some midnight snacks. Heading into the main room, you notice the door leading to the back was open, letting a chilly breeze float in.

Heading over to check it out, your eyes lie upon Zemo sitting on top of a fallen over tree trunk in the back patio, looking up at the night sky. His coat was wrapped around him to keep him warm, and his face was expressionless as he looked up to the night sky that was scattered with the stars. He hadn’t noticed you staring at him, his mind was far from where his body was.

After a few moments of just staring at him, you broke the silence, “Zemo?”

His head instantly snapped to you, surprised to have been caught unaware.

“Oh, hello y/n, can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, taking his question as an invitation to go over and sit next to him, “No, to many thoughts in my mind to go to sleep”

“Ah, a common problem for an insomniac”

“I assume you have similar reasons, since you are out hear”

He looks away from you, smiling weakly at the floor, “Yes something like that, sleep comes rarely to me”

Your eyes flutter down to the ground, not really sure what to say, “I’m sorry to hear that” you whisper

You both sit there in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t an awkward silence like what you were used to. No. It was a comfortable silence. You were both thankful just to have someone beside you at that moment. You shudder slightly as the wind picks up, making the hairs on your arm stand up. Zemo notices and slowly shrugs off his coat, placing it around you. You smile politely up at him in thanks.

“May I ask what your thoughts were?” Zemo asks gently, glancing back over to you

“You probably think it was about our failure, right?” you say and Zemo nods his head slightly

“They weren’t, actually. I didn’t suspect us to accomplish anything. It seemed to good to be true. No, I was thinking about what happened after. Between you and Sam”

Zemo’s face instantly shifted, his mouth pulling into a frown and his eyebrows furrowing, “Ah” is all he says

“What Sam said was way out of line. I can’t understand the pain you must feel about losing Sokovia”

Zemo hums to let you know he heard but doesn’t say anymore, his gaze just returns to the sky.

You didn’t want to push him too far. Over this time you had gotten to know him and almost considered him a friend, but you couldn’t help but be curious. You wanted to know more about him.

“But there’s more isn’t there. Something we don’t know,” you say gently

You can see him swallow and his fingers dig into his palms as he tenses at your question.

After a moment he finally responds, “Yes, you’re right. I... I had a family who died that day. My father, wife and child. I told them to go out of the city to the countryside. That was where my father lived, you see. I had to stay behind as I was a part of this Sokovian kill squad. Even as royalty, I still had duties. I had faith in the avengers. They would sort everything out. But they didn’t. When the battle was one they just returned home, leaving us with the hard task of finding all the dead. I assumed my family would be safe, yet it took me two days after to find their bodies.”

Your body gets overwhelmed with coldness as you hear his story. The memories of the battle flooded your mind and you could feel a bitterness creep into your mouth. You could have stayed behind to help. Why didn’t you? Your eyes water slightly as you sympathise with him and feel the guilt lie on your soul.

“Oh god Zemo, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked,” you are quick to respond

“No...it’s okay. If I didn’t want to tell you, I wouldn’t have said anything”

You look up to the night sky and reflect over his words. All the pain that Zemo must feel, holding onto, and you did not know. None of you did. You were sure if Sam knew he wouldn’t have said the things he did. You knew what Zemo did was wrong, but damn you couldn’t help but empathise with him.

“If you want…” you start, hoping what you were choosing to ask wouldn’t be going too far, “would you like to tell me about them?”

Zemo finally looks away from the sky, his eyes looking to the ground. He swallows again, slightly sniffing before speaking.

“My Son, Carl, he was four when he... when he died. He always did this cute thing where if he didn’t like the food on his plate he would pretend he was gifting the food to you to show his love for you”

You chuckle slightly thinking about it, “That does sounds cute”

“He was the most precious thing in existence. He always wanted a sibling like his friends had. He loved the idea of being an older brother. Every morning when the mail arrived, he asked if he had a brother or sister delivered to him. Me and my wife… we were planning on having more kids. We knew he would've made the best big brother. We hoped for a girl, you know, to even things out”

“What was she like?”

“She was so beautiful. Like the goddess Venus. Many men tried to win her affection, but she settled for me. I had never felt like a luckier man. She was so kind, so generous, so loving. My perfect angel”

The tears that had been threatening to fall from Zemo’s eyes broke the dam and fell down his cheeks.

“If I could, I would give up everything I have, everything I own just to hold them in my arms again”

A sob breaks out of him and he holds his hand up to his mouth as his eyes crinkle up as more tears fall. He tries to wipe them away, but he can’t stop crying. You put your arm around him and pull him into a hug which he gladly accepts. He wraps his arms around you and buries his head into your shoulder as he sobs.

“I miss them so much”

You say nothing, just rub your hand on his back reassuringly. He takes a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I tried to end my life after I completed my revenge. So I didn’t have to live another day without them. But I failed. I spent the next seven years without them. And everyday it feels like I’ve lost them again,”

“What do you plan to do… after we have finished here?”

You can feel Zemo’s body tenses in your arms as you ask that question, “I think you know, y/n”

You pull back from him to look into his blood-shot eyes. “Zemo, I know this is so very hard for you, but please don’t. I know with your wit and cunning you can think of a way to escape all of this safely. I will not pretend to know your wife, but if she is anything like what you have told me about, I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to either. She would want you to find some happiness in life,”

Zemo finally moves away from you, standing up off the tree log and taking one last look at the sky before then looking back at you. He’d stopped crying by now but the tear stained cheek and dark under eyes were evidence of what had just occurred. The side of his lip tried to twitch up into a slight smile but it faltered,

“Thank you, y/n”

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @jayxkelsi @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik

#zemo #baron zemo #zemo x y/n #zemo x reader #tfatws #sam wilson #marvel #daniel brühl #mcu #zemo x you #i love zemo #helmut zemo #sugar daddy zemo #yes this is about zemo

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applerubyy · 3 years

Text

Ciao Adios

Summary: When you find your boyfriend cheating on you yo decide to expose him in the pettiest way you can think of.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (some Loki x Reader if you squint)

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cheating and cursing (I think that’s it?)

A/N: Hi! So this is my first time writing and posting anything here so if its terrible please tell me nicely :). This is some AU where everyone lives and all is happy ok? Also english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes. Anyway, if it turns out that some of you like it I think I’d be willing to do a part 2 if you like. Hope you enjoy it! <3. Btw, the gif is not mine so credit to whoever made it.

Crack. That’s the sound of your heart breaking, ripped to pieces in just a few seconds. And no, you were not exaggerating. Seeing your boyfriend kissing someone else while taking off their clothes would do that to a person. And in his office of all places.

How did you not see that coming? They had a lot in common and they did spend a lot of time together but you were just so naïve thinking that he was the most trust-worthy person ever that you looked the other way and believed him when he told you she was “just a friend”.

Just a friend my ass you thought as you calmly walked to your room. No running, that would draw attention to you and you didn’t need that. No crying either, because once you started you wouldn’t be able to stop. Walking down the hallway and taking the elevator to your floor feels like it takes forever.

Time is funny that way. It has that annoying tendency to slow down or speed up at the worst times. Like when you were in college and the clock seemed to literally stop, you would look at the time and it was 10:20 am and check again after what felt like half an hour for it to be 10:25 am. Or like when you are having fun with your friends at a club and you see it’s 12:30 but when you look again a few minutes later it’s 2:40. Right now it feels like the former, time seems to have slowed down. Maybe Dr. Strange did something to it? No, that’s stupid, he wouldn’t play with time that way.

Finally the elevator pings open and you rush to your room. Well, it’s not only your room anymore. You share it with him and everything is a reminder of what you just saw. The art supplies on the desk by the window, the famous shield leaning against the wall near the door, the messy bed where you sleep together every night …

And every single thing brings tears to your eyes until finally, the dam breaks and you let the tears fall down. You bring your hand to your mouth to muffle a sob that brings you to your knees. Crying is the only thing you can do right now because your brain is stuck on a loop. All you can see is Steve kissing her, unbuttoning her shirt with one hand while the other grabbed her ass. And all you can hear are their moans, Sharon’s whimper when he touched her and his groan as he did so.

And now you are full on crying and choking on air because that scene keeps replaying itself over and over no matter how much you want it to stop. And you do, Gosh you do because there is so much your heart can take and this is too much. It shatters you in more ways than one. It makes you question everything you thought you knew about him, about her, about your relationship and about yourself.

You remember the first time you met him. You were already in college and looking for an internship. Luckily you happened to be the niece of the one and only Pepper Potts. And who wouldn’t want to work near Earth's mightiest heroes? You sure did. You were studying journalism and communications in New York and working with the Avengers was the ultimate dream, one that was about to come true.

Your first day was uneventful, it consisted mainly of coffee runs, delivering files and passing messages along. That was until your third coffee run where you ran straight into a wall, well actually it wasn’t a wall but it felt like it. The coffee spilled everywhere, on your clothes and his, and you were going to fall on your butt if it wasn’t for him grabbing your arms to steady you. Imagine your surprise when you looked up to see Captain America himself.

And that’s the moment your love story started. It seemed like something straight out of a romantic comedy and you loved it. It started with flirting, a date and then another, him asking you to be his girlfriend and finally asking you to move in once you graduated. It felt like a fairytale.

Tony wasn't very happy about you and the Capsicle but he saw how happy you were so he tried to be happy too. Tony was your uncle even if you didn’t share any blood. Growing up you would visit your aunty Pepper in New York and he was always around, you even stayed at his house when Pepper and him had to work. So, you two became really close even before he became Iron Man and started dating your aunt.

The same thing happened with Rhody. Your close relationship with Tony meant you were close to him too, seeing as he was one of the most important people in his life. Rhody treated you like his niece and was the only one he didn’t make fun of which you took as the ultimate compliment.

So those three you knew before you started working at the compound and before Steve. But once you started working there you met the rest of the Avengers. Being Pepper and Tony's niece and Steve's girlfriend meant they all wanted to get to know you.

You met Bruce Banner, the Hulk, and you became really close. But that was thanks to his close relation with Tony and all the time you spent with him working on his social media presence to make sure people saw him as more than just the green monster who smashes things. After a while of working there they promoted you and now you manage the Avengers social media.

Nat and Wanda became your best friends from the moment you met. You just clicked and hung out as much as possible, being the only girls on the team meant they were really happy to have another female added to the mix. As for Vision, he liked you because Wanda did, simple as that.

Bucky and Sam were the funniest people ever, their constant bickering always brought a smile to your face and they welcomed you with open arms. Happy that their friend had finally found someone to be with.

Thor and Clint were like the fun uncles you got to see every once in a while. The God of Thunder was like an excited puppy and would hug you till you couldn’t breath every time he came to Earth and Clint would joke around with you and FaceTime you when he was with his kids because they loved you (“best babysitter ever” that called you).

You met Peter when he started working for your uncle. He was a sweet kid and your love of memes, vines and pop culture made you instant friends. He would ask you for advice on girls and tell you science jokes.

But we all know not all fairytales have a happy ending and this one definitely didn’t. You’re feeling so many things at once. There’s anger, sadness, jealousy and something else you can’t put your finger on. You keep crying and are unable to move from your kneeling position on the floor. Checking the clock you realize you’ve been on the floor crying for an hour so you stand up.

Taking a shower seems like the best thing to do, your head is pounding and your face is all puffy. As you shower it hits you, that other feeling swirling around is inevitability. In a way you always thought he was too good for you, you always thought he would eventually get tired of you and trade you for someone else.

It just hurt too much that it was her, the woman he shared so much with. The niece of Peggy Carter, his first love. An agent of S. H. I. E. L. D. Someone who risked their life for the world like he did. Someone prettier. Someone better than you.

Yeah, you were definitely on a self-pity party. But you needed to be miserable for a while, to cry it all out, to hurt so that you could move on to the next stage of grief: anger. And when that came, there was no stopping you.

You weren’t a mean person, or a petty one. You gave everyone countless opportunities and forgave way too easily so you never really got angry. But when you did, when you said enough is enough, yeah, you better watch out. That could be the meanest bitch you ever met and she had no mercy.

So you got out of the shower, dried yourself and started getting ready. Tony was throwing yet another party about who knows what and you were not missing it. You liked parties, they were the perfect excuse for wearing pretty dresses and putting on make up. And tonight you were going all out.

Your inner bitch was concocting a plan and you were going with it.

You hear the door open and prepare yourself to put on the best acting of your life. You take a deep breath and in the sweetest voice you can muster say: “Steve is that you babe?”

“Yeah doll it’s me” you hear him say. A few second later he pops into the bedroom and gives you a peck on the lips as you continue with your makeup.

“How was your day?” Steve asks as he takes off his clothes, probably to take a shower. “I missed you today, i went by your office but you weren’t there” he says with a small frown between his eyes. You could stare at his blue eyes forever but snap out of it when you remember what he did.

“Oh not much, i left work earlier to get ready for tonight” you answer. Shit your work. You really did leave like that, but after tonight hopefully they’ll understand. “You should start getting ready, the party starts in thirty minutes”.

He smiles at you and tells you he’s going to take a quick shower before getting dressed. He goes to the bathroom and you feel like breaking the mirror but instead take a few deep breaths and remind yourself he’s getting what he deserves later on. With that in mind you finish applying you makeup and smile at yourself, you look good. Moving on to your hair you decide to do some loose waves and that’s it, you really don’t know how to make those complicated updos.

Steve gets out of the shower and starts putting on his suit. Men really do have it easier you think to yourself when you see all the work you had to do and he just showers and that’s it.

You take your dress out of the closet and admire it. It really is beautiful. It has a deep plunging neckline that shows a lot of cleavage and is skin tight with a slit on one side. The fact that it is silver with sequins makes it even better. Pepper helped you pick this dress.

You put on the dress and admire yourself in the mirror. You look good. Behind you, you hear a whistle and turn around to see Steve watching you lust in his eyes. He comes closer and grabs you by the waist, pulling you to him.

“You look stunning” he says as he wets his bottom lip. “I can’t wait to take it off of you when we get back”. Lying cheating bastard.

“Can't wait” you lie as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. This is just a kiss goodbye you tell yourself. One last kiss before he’s out of your life and probably runs to her. Tears threaten to fill your eyes but you hold them down. Not now.

You break the kiss when the need to breathe is too strong. Grabbing his hand you start walking towards the door and say: “Come on, we’re already late”.

——————————————————————————

The party had already started once you walk in and in true Tony fashion it is elegant and extravagant. Everyone is there: S. H. I. E. L. D. agents, the Avengers themselves, politicians and a few famous people.

You and Steve walk to the bar and order drinks. A whiskey for him and a strawberry daiquiri for you, yes you are that basic but hey, it tastes awesome. He offers you his arm and with drinks in your hands you start looking for your friends. A lot of people stop you on the way, nobody wants to miss an opportunity to talk to Captain America.

One thing, or rather on person, catches your attention: Loki. He’s sitting on one of the cushions alone with a drink in his hand. It’s weird to see him there. Sure, he was redeeming himself for what he did in 2012 and Thor said he was doing better but he rarely left Asgard (he “hated mortals”) and when he did come to Earth it wasn’t for a party.

As if he could feel you staring he turns his head and locks his eyes with yours. You weren’t going to lie, he was gorgeous. He was incredibly tall, had those charming green eyes and was actually funny (but you’d never admit that to anyone). But you were in love with Steve and never saw him as anything more than Thor's hot brother. And everyone in the Avengers was hot so that’s not saying much.

You turn away from him and see Nat and Wanda on the dance floor and you tell Steve you’ll see him later and to go find his friends. He’ll need them after tonight you think to yourself. You greet the girls and start dancing with them, for a moment forgetting about what you saw today and putting Loki out of your mind.

The three of you decided to take a break and order some more drinks. Once at the bar Wanda orders for you and when your drinks arrive you go back to the dance floor. You spend the next few hours dancing, talking to your friends and pretending that nothing's wrong. Talking to Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong. Hugging Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong. Kissing Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong.

The fact that Sharon is at the party doesn’t help at all. When you see her talking or touching him you feel like you’re gonna lose it but you remain strong. You remind yourself of your plan and try to keep them out of your mind.

There’s a small stage at the far end of the room and you see your uncle Tony step on it and grab the microphone.

“Hello everyone and thank you for coming to another one of my amazing parties. I hope you are having a good time and taking advantage of the free bar over there” he points to the other side of the room and continues, “Now for what we have all been waiting for: karaoke! And yes, i want everyone to sing something because that’s the whole point of this. I'm looking at you Manchurian Candidate, you’re singing”.

With that he gets off the stage and passes the mic to Sam who decided to sing a Marvin Gaye song. He’s pretty good actually but you can’t fully concentrate on him because your mind is going a thousand miles an hour for what it’s going to happen later.

More people go up and sing their songs and you applaud when they’re done. Nobody is talking much, they're all too busy either laughing at the others performance, drinking or actually listening to the songs. You’re sitting with Steve to your right, Bruce to your left and the rest of the Avengers nearby. You’re your own little group.

It’s finally your turn and as you walk to the stage you can hear your friends whistling and cheering you on. Once you’re up on the stage you choose the song and start singing.

Ask you once, ask you twice now

There's lipstick on your collar

You say she's just a friend now

Then why don't we call her?

So you wanna go home with someone

To do all the things you used to do to me

I swear, I know you do

Used to take me out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when I ring you up

Don't know where you are

'Til I hear her say your name

Used to sing along when you played guitar

That's a distant memory

Hope she treats you better than you treated me, ha

As you continue singing you get more and more confident and take the mic. You walk off the little stage and over to your friends while dancing and you can see them smiling, clapping and having fun. They have no idea how much i mean all of this you think. You look at Steve and he’s completely oblivious. Good, you want to take him by surprise. You arrive at your little circle of friends and start singing the chorus.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her

Kissing and having fun

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

You keep dancing and go back to back with Wanda who’s also singing along. You then turn to Nat and she grabs your hand and makes you do a little spin.

After three, after four times

Why did I bother?

Tell me how many more times

Does it take to get smarter?

Don't need to deny the hurt and the lies

And all of the things you did to me

I swear, I know you did

And now you take her out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when she rings you up

She know where you are

But I know differently

Now she sings along when you play guitar

Making brand new memories

Hope you treat her better than you treated me

You go up to Tony and he starts dancing around you busting out some dad moves. You laugh and keep on singing and dancing.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her

Kissing and having fun

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done (I'm done)

Ciao adios, I'm done (no, no, no, no)

Ciao adios, I'm done

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

And now you take her out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when she rings you up

She know where you are

But I know differently

Now she sings along when you play guitar

Making brand new memories

Hope you treat her better than you treated me

You walk back to the stage as you sing and step up. You put the mic back into place and sing the last part of the song.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her (with her)

Kissing and having fun (and fun)

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done (I'm done)

Ciao adios, I'm done (you get on with your life, I'll get on with my life)

Ciao adios, I'm done

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

When you’re done people are clapping and cheering and you look to your friends to see them all smiling. You look at everyone and make a little mock bow and when you straighten you see Loki sitting on the same couch as before. But this time he’s looking at you and he’s laughing, not smiling and cheering but actually laughing.

You look back at your friends and say “Thank you, thank you” with a smile on your face. You continue , “I wanted to dedicate this song to my boyfriend Steve” you point at him.

“In case it wasn’t clear enough, i wanted to tell you that i saw you with Sharon”. You could hear a pin drop. No one was talking and all eyes were on you. This is what you wanted, to humiliate him as much as he did you. And what better way to do it than publicly? Oh but you weren’t done.

You could see Steve's face going pale and nobody knew where to look, if at you or at him. Tony look ready to murder him as did Rhody, Pepper, Peter and Bruce. Thor, Clint and Vision looked shocked. But Bucky, Sam, Nat and Wanda looked guilty.

Your heart breaks a little more when you realize they knew. You can’t really blame Bucky and Sam for not telling you, they were Steve's friends after all. But you thought the girls were your friends, that they would have told you. Apparently you overestimated that friendship.

You keep on smiling and continue “So… I’m breaking up with you. Hope she was a good fuck and wasn’t uncomfortable with the fact that you were once in love with her aunt”. You do a dramatic pause and make a little disgusted face. “Anyway, if I’m lucky i´ll never see you again. Have a great life!”

And with that, you walk off the stage and make your way to your friends. Steve is rooted to the spot and his face is red with embarrassment. You walk up to him, look him straight in the eye and give him an evil smile. He gulps and opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something and then closes it. He does is two more times and still nothing comes out.

You turn to your group and look at Wand and Nat, who can’t seem to be able to look you in the eye. You sigh and say: “Who want enemies when they can have you as their best friends right?”. They look up then and start talking. Telling you how sorry they are and to please forgive them. You raise your hand to silence them and they do.

You go to your aunt and uncle who look like there should be smoke coming out of their ears and say: “I’m gonna stay in a hotel for the night, can’t stand to be here anymore”. Tony scrunches his eyebrows and look at you like you’re crazy.

“Hell no. You’re staying here. We can find him another room to sleep in but you’re not leaving. If anyone’s leaving is Mr. Star-spangled over there” he practically screams the last part as he points at Steve.

You take a deep breath and hug him. It takes him by surprise but he puts his arms around you. “I appreciate it uncle Tony but i can’t stay at the compound, it just hurts too much” you say as you let go. Turning to your aunt you hug her as well and say: “Thank you for everything but I quit”.

The moment those words leave your mouth everyone starts talking at the same time telling you how crazy you are and to think about it. You just smile at them and tell them you already made up your mind. “I'm gonna go pack a bag and ask Happy to take me to a hotel nearby. Please make sure he doesn’t follow” you say as you point to a still red-faced Captain America.

With that you turn around and leave. The room is silent for a few seconds before you hear your friends all screaming at Steve. You look around for a second and notice that Loki is staring at you with a smirk on his face. When you look him in the eye he raises his glass at you ant takes a sip.

You give him a small smile and walk through the doors towards the elevator.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #loki x reader #loki imagine #tony stark #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction

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merci-bitch · 3 years

Text

Happier Than Ever

Angelique Bouchard x fem!reader

Request : Would you consider writing some jealous or possessive Angelique? It’s okay if not! :) - Anonymous

Warning(s) : swearing, angst, small nsfw, trauma, claustrophobia,

Words : 3k

A/N : I do apologize, this probably wasn’t what you wanted but it just came to me. I like this, even if there’s spelling mistakes. I don’t proof read :/. I do hope you all enjoy it! Sorry it’s taken so long! Xx

"Angie, this isn't fair!"

Angie only grinned at you as she finished tightening the chains that were wrapped around you. Standing up straight, she looked down at you. A pouty smile on her lips. Angie placed her hands on her hips.

"You know, we could have avoided this situation of you loved me."

"I do love you! Please just get me out of here." Your tone desperate. Struggling against the chains despite the small amount of space you had in the box. Angie threw her head back in laughter.

"Angelique!" You barked at her. Catching her off guard at the harsh tone. She stopped laughing at the sound of her full name. She leant down slowly again. Letting her slim fingers trace against your cheek. Despite your obvious fear, you couldn't help but lean into her touch. Your eyelids closing as you felt her lips on your forehead. Sniffing softly, looking up at her with glossy eyes. Expecting her to let you out.

"Better keep your head down, goldwing."

"Angie don't do this to me. You know I hate small spaces!" You nearly screamed. Feeling panic arise in you. Angie said nothing as she stood at full height once again. She seemed to think of something to say. It wasn't usual for the elegant Angie Bouchard to not know what to say. Moment cut short as she broke the silence. "So here's the deal."

Angie moved her hands up under her lace dress, watching with pleasure as she saw how your eyes widened in shock. Pulling the lacy panties down her legs, snapping it at her left ankle. "I'm gonna destroy everything you love." She said as she leant down and covered your lower face with her underwear. Tugging it behind your ears. "And you're gonna take some time to think about us."

Angie grinned from ear to ear as she grabbed the lid of the coffin and started to close it. "See you soon my love." Blowing you a kiss before closing the lid. Leaving you in complete darkness with your lover's underwear as a mask on your face. +

"It's not like I don't want her. Sometimes I feel as I'm more honest in my dreams and she's been in quite a few."

"Does she make you happy?"

"The more time goes, I feel as if I was made for her. Angie's comet that comes around more then I do."

"Have you been getting sleep Y/N?"

"I haven't slept since Sunday. Midnight is like 3 AM to me."

Julia leant back in her chair and crossed her legs as she watched you. Something was off. "You never answered my question if she made you happy Y/N."

You sat up and looked at Julia. Feeling your nerves burn. "Was this Liz's idea? Of course it was!"

Your tone caught Julia off guard. Stumbling with her words as you walked your way towards the door, only to watch you come back.

"I hate the way she looks at me. I can't stand the dialogue she can't speak. I know she'll never be satisfied and though I ty to tell myself that I hate her - I can't. It's all I think about when I'm behind the wheel. Is this how I'm going to feel forevermore?"

Your tone cracking at the end of speaking. Sniffing and clearing your throat, drying your eyes; looking back at Julia. Seeing her surprised eyes.

"I could never hate her. She's all I've got left of mother."

With that you left Julia's office. Nearly running down the stairs. You felt your throat tighten. Ears ringing like high keys of a piano being played. A storm forming inside your head. Sounds of loud speaking blasting in your head. Vision black and white, spiralling.

Reaching the front door, using your strength to open the old wooden door open. As if someone hit you in the face with a pillow, the wind hit you. The heavy rain flooding down replacing the blasting sound in your ears. Closing your eyes, feeling everything go away for just a moment. Letting your shoulders fall back down.

"Y/N!"

Turning around you saw Liz standing at the top of the stairs. Her face tense. You turned around again and started walking outside. Hearing her fast steps behind you. Gasping, the raindrops cold against your burning skin. Taking a moment to collect yourself, a moment too long as Liz grabbed your arm, nearly dragging you back inside.

"Are you insane?!"

Ripping your arm from her grip. "What do you mean Liz? Am I not allowed to have my opinions?" Turning so your back was facing her. Looking out again, waiting. You heard Liz groan of frustration. "Your mother wouldn't ha-"

"Don't talk to me about mother! I thought we both agreed to keep her out of this Liz!"

Your mother died when you were a teenager, when Carolyn was little. She wasn't sick. It was a sudden passing. One morning she just collapsed and didn't wake up. Of course, everything changed after that. Except Roger. Roger is Roger. Still an asshole. You and Liz became more distant and cold against each other. You never really understood why. You loved your aunt. Then Angie happened. It ruined your relationship completely. Silly you to fall in love. You'd gone to therapy to help with the trauma of seeing your mother die in front of you but you stopped years ago. You got over it, or at least pretended to. Nothing lasts, you knew the deal.

"Y/N, are you waiting for someone?" Liz asked.

"Maybe."

"She won't come, you know. She never does. She has you as a souvenir, just waiting to sell you off."

"And you think making me talk to Julia will change my mind?!" You turned around to look at her. Daring her to continue, but of course. She didn't. It's so weird that we care so much, until we don't. Things you once enjoyed, just kept you employed now. The things you longed for, will one day be boring to you.

You turned around around again, silently agreeing with Liz. She wasn't coming. You started walking.

"Y/N! You'll catch a cold!"

"So be it! It's not like any of you would care if I actually got sick, or collapsed like mother!" You screamed back at her.

"Y/N stop walking, god dammit!"

You turned around and saw Liz running towards you. Wrapping her jacket around you, the one you loved as a kid. She squeezed your arm. "Be back to dinner." You nodded your head short and flipped up the hood and made your way into town.

The walk was mid long, but cold in the rain. And of course wet. leaving you looking like a wet dog by the time you reached the town. People giving you weird glances as you stepped into Angel Bay. Stepping into the elevator, breathing normally again after walking through stinking fish. Pulling down the hod and scratching your scalp. Brushing through your hair with your fingers, trying to make it look presentable. Ending up with tying it in a ponytail. Opening the jacket, to show that there was some part of you that was dry.

As you stepped out, you bumped into someone. The person nearly knocking you to the ground, had they not held a strong grip around your waist.

"I deeply apologise! I didn't see where I was going." A man said as he helped you stand up straight again.

"No worries! I am as much to blame as you. I'm Y/N." You chuckled and held your hand out.

The guy didn't take your hand, but hugged you instead. Catching you by surprise but sooner or later you hugged him back. "You're a hugger I see."

He pulled back and scratched the back of his neck and looked to the ground.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked."

"No. Not at all. It's alright. I do love a good hug." You smiled at him and softly hit his arm. He gave you a small smile back. "I'm Matt."

"Nice to meet you Matt. I sense you're new here."

Matt nodded his head and collected his papers that'd been on the floor. "Yeah, I had an interview earlier. With Ms. Bouchard?"

You nodded. "Scary thing, isn't she?"

Matt seemed hesitant to answer. As if he was scared people would hear his answer. It made you laugh. "No need to be scared. She can't hurt you, not while I'm around, buddy."

Matt seemed to relax as you said it. Giving you a smile back. "Thanks Y/N."

"You wanna grab coffee tomorrow? At the little cafe by the corner at 11?"

"I'd like that. See you then Y/N!" Matt waved as he stepped inside the elevator. You waved back until the doors closed and then made your way towards Angie's office.

"Hello Miriam, is she in?"

"Good morning Y/N. Yes, I'll le-"

You opened the door to her office to see her on the phone. Closing the door behind you. Angie raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down as she continued to speak with whoever it was on the line. Suddenly, locking eye contact with you.

"Well, I'd be dammed."

She kept the eye contact as she put down the telephone and stood up. Not saying anything, but just looking at you. Taking you in. It almost made you feel uncomfortable. Your gaze turned to her desk, on the left corner. The little cow you'd given her as a present years ago.

"You still have the cow I gave you."

"Don't change subject."

The sharp reply caught you off guard. Nearly making you flinch. Rolling your shoulders back, looking up at her, seeing how tense her shoulders were. She'd clenched her jaw.

"What subject? You didn't even speak."

"Oh, but you certainly did."

"What on earth are you talking about Angie?"

"Coffee? Tomorrow at 11?" She mimicked your voice. That's when it hit you. Of course she'd know.

"You have some secret spy out there?"

"Do not take me for a fool Y/N!" Angie rarely shouted at you. You heard her scream and shout at others but never at you. It made you flinch and want to crawl out of your skin. Slowly, you sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk. Pulling the jacket tighter to you.

"I-I don't think you're a fool Angie."

"Then give me one good reason I shouldn't fire him."

"Fire him? He was just being nice!"

"Nice? Darling girl, he likes you."

Angie's tone got slick. Her lips curling into that familiar wicked smile. She slowly leant over her desk.

"He doesn't like me. He was just being nice since be bumped into me." You shrugged your shoulders.

"I think I know when someone smears themselves over what's mine." Angie crosses her arms and straightened her back.

"Alright, don't start with that. He was just being nice. You scare him." You crossed your legs and leant back in the chair. Trying to get comfortable in an uncomfortable chair was impossible.

"You know when you said you'd get me anything?"

"Yes."

"Get new chairs."

Angie groaned and walked around her desk, stopping behind you. Letting her hands rest on your shoulders. Automatically you tensed up at her touch. Making her tsk.

"So tense, my dear." She gripped your shoulders more firmly and leant down to whisper in your ear, "Do I scare you?"

A small blush crept up your chest. No matter how many times she touched you, it always had the same reaction and you doubted it'd ever change. Clearing your throat. "A little."

Angie's low chuckle sent shivers down your spine. Her hands squeezed your shoulders as she left small little kisses on the back of your neck before standing up again. You heard her do something behind you. "Why do you smell like a wet dog."

You snorted. "Well, someone forgot to pick me up as they promised."

"I had another meeting darling."

You rolled your eyes. "When don't you have one."

You felt Angie stand right behind you. Her front pressing against your back.

"Let me make it up to you." Her hands slid down your shoulders, further down your chest. Slipping under your shirt, cupping your breasts in your bra, giving them a squeeze. Leaning down and brushing her nose against the back of your neck. Her scent filling you up. Leaning your head slightly back, pushing your chest up in her hands. Angie's lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

"No, no stop."

You jerked away from her, standing up and shaking your whole body. Readjusting your shirt and bra. Angie turned around and glared at you. "What's the matter with you?"

"I don't want it."

"Don't want what Y/N."

"Just - can you step away."

For once she did what you asked. It was a first for both of you. You'd never neglected her touch. In one way or another. "Sorry. I had another fight with Liz before I came here. She mentioned my mother, that's all."

Angie watched you with curiosity. "No, don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"I'm not telling you about it."

"I never said you had to, sweetheart." Her tone was smooth like butter. Her posture told a different story. You looked up at Angie. Those piercing blue eyes. You'd get lost in them like an ocean.

"She said you only kept me a souvenir. Planning to sell me off." It was barely a whisper. You saw how Angie's whole aura changed again. Angie scoffed and walked back to her desk. Lightning a cigarette. "Liz and her extraordinary thoughts."

"Am I a souvenir to you Angie?"

"Of course not." Angie said as she sat down and opened her folder again. Setting her brain on work again.

It went quiet and you just stood there. Watching her work. Of course. Work. If she didn't get what she wanted, what was the point?

"I'm not a mirror you know."

She didn't answer.

"Times have changed, haven't they?"

Angie hummed. Clearly not listening. You knew her motto. When she got bored, she got something new. In this case it involved you.

"What a drag to love you like I do."

This caught her attention. "What do you mean Y/N."

"You know, Julia asked if you made me happy. I didn't answer her question."

Angie slowly stood up as you spoke. Her expression hard. Serious. Frightening.

"You're all it takes for me to break a promise. Silly me for falling in love with you."

You turned your back to her and walked towards the door only to jump away as a vase was thrown behind you at the door. Shattering all over the floor around the door. You turned around and looked at Angie with shock written across your face. "Are you insane?!" You looked back to the broken glass laying across the floor. Stepping away from it.

"Everybody dies. Surprise, surprise." Angie said as she walked towards you. Backing you up against the wall. Trapping you.

"You could have hit me!"

"I could never dare lay a finger on you, my dear."

"You almost did!"

"Don't tell, goldwing."

You looked over to the glass again. Angie pulled your chin back and leant in to kiss you. The kiss bruising. Harsh but full of passion. Something she never lacked. Pulling away when she needed air, but not too far. Brushing her nose against yours.

"I'd be dammed before I ever see that man touch you again."

"You're jealous."

"Not in the slightest. I don't share what's rightfully mine."

"Rightfully? Let's get one thing straight, you don't own me Angie."

"Oh, I don't? You have been to clarify that many times, my darling girl."

The statement made you blush. You hit her shoulder. "I'm allowed to have friends."

"Friends who don't touch."

You rolled your eyes at her. Stepping away from her once again. Stepping over the glass. Careful not to step in it. "You know, if you can't handle me having friends. I can't handle you." -

You don't remember how you got into the coffin in the first place. You remember walking to the door again and then everything going black. Then waking up with Angie leaning above you, and you tied up in a coffin. You knew she was a witch. Since Barnabas came, everyone knew. Everyone who was a Collins. It didn't really change anything. It made you understand her outstanding beauty. A powerful woman, quite literally.

Struggling once again with the chains that were wrapped tight around you. The underwear making it hard to breathe, the air dampening your face; making it hot. Panic started creeping up inside you. Your eyes started to sting as you continued to struggle. The general air inside the coffin was musty, and bad. Small tears making their way down your cheeks. Sobs bubbling up in your throat, threatening to spill.

"Angelique!"

You screamed the best you could as a sob covered it. Feeling your whole body sake with fear. Your ears were popping the moment you started screaming. You didn't knew what you were screaming, if it was for help or Angie. The more tears, the more screams and the more fear. You knew Angie would do the opposite of what she said she would. If this was her idea of a punishment, you weren't sure if you'd ever recover. Different thoughts went through your head. Was Liz right? Was Angie right? Were you the only bad person here? Were Angie the cause of everything?

"Angelique! Come back! Please!"

You knew she wasn't there. You knew she wasn't coming back. A point of you wanted her to come back and another didn't. People heard you, but listened to her. You were never heard. Happier than ever, and you wished it wasn't true.

You were wasting your breath. You didn't relate to her. You ever told anyone anything bad about her. You loved her. She was your everything but at what cause? She ruined everything good for you.

Nearly choking on your tears, the air getting tighter. Using the last you had, screaming your lungs out. The ringing in your ears getting worse. Was this how you were gonna die? By the hands of the woman you loved? Was this the price you had to pay for loving her? You'd never get over her. She held your heart, even if you didn't want her to.

Happier than ever. A fake story. Nothing lasts, you knew the deal.

#angelique bouchard x reader #Dark Shadows

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