#the way that he thinks that by doing so he’s saving him from some unbearable pain
But it makes sense that the thing Ji Woo most admires about Seo Joon, the thing that gives him the bravery to be vulnerable about his own feelings and initiate that kiss, is non other than Seo Joon’s sheer, unfiltered honesty. It makes sense when all Ji Woo seems to do is lie, from “what happened between us… thinking about it disgusts me” to “it’s just that our attitudes are so different that we simply don’t fit together.” It makes sense that the first truth that Ji Woo utters to Seo Joon in 12 months is that it’s Seo Joon’s honesty that makes him unable to keep lying: “How are you so honest? How do I ignore you now?”
pro hero!bakugou x f!reader
summary - PORN WITH SOME PLOT - hurt comfort smut, bakugou agrees to help deku fufill a long daydreamed about fantasy with his girlfriend, ends up with far more than he bargained for when he realizes, not only are you clearly emotionally unfulfilled in your current relationship, but that he might be catching feelings for his friends girlfriend. all characters pro heroes, reader is a civilian. has breasts that bounce. could be part one.
warnings - deku wants to do consensual n/n c/nsent with his gf - but he wants to be tied up and watch while bakugou does it. all parties involved consent, bakugou is p responsible, safewords are in place, the scene is EXTREMELY consensual. TW for emotional neglect/manipulation(deku is not a good boyfriend, but in his defense it’s really hard to be #1 most powerful being and conceptualize other people in a complex way), sub drop but not hardcore(reader), emotional infidelity, choking spitting, face fucking, bondage, knifeplay if you squint, cucking, medium hard degradation and praise. mention of collar. cumplay. dynamight official lingerie.
MINORS DNI - YOU MUST HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO TO INTERACT WIHT THIS POST
a/n - repost from my old tumblr <3 happy birthday to kats.
You touch your neck self consciously as the blonde pro hero towers over you. He narrows his eyes at you for a moment, but you, you he could deal with in good time, he instead turns to his childhood friend.
“You sure you want this?” Bakugou says in a low growl. “I got rules.” You watch your boyfriend shift his weight a bit.
“What ah, what are your rules?” Midoriya begins to fidget nervously. He was inches away from realizing a fantasy that had tortured him for months. Bakugou holds up a finger.
“One, safeword,” he turns to you. “I’m gonna gag him if he talks too much, and he’s gonna talk too much, so this is for you, you done the colors thing before? Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means more.” You nod.
“I’m um, yeah I’ve used those before.” Midoriya looks at you sharply, and Bakugou files the interaction away in his head.
“Rule two. You wear quirk shit. I’ve got some but I don’t feel like getting tackled out your apartment window because you change your mind halfway through when you see your girlfriend cum on my cock.” Midoriya swallows.
“Yeah, um, I expected as much, I think.”
“You got any rules?” He turns to you, but Midoriya pipes up.
“Actually um, I would prefer if you didn’t cum, y’know, in her.” Bakugou blinks at his childhood friend, face unreadable. “She’s uh, she’s on birth control but um, I’d like to save that just for me.” Bakugou nods, turning back to you.
“Anything from you?”
“Um actually,” Midoriya taps on his arm, and Bakugou nearly blows a gasket, “I uh, I was thinking, if you could try not to leave any um, marks and stuff, that would be cool.” The blond rolls his eyes.
“No promises.” Your mouth is dry. “Anything from your fuckin’ girlfriend, jesus christ Deku you oughtta let her talk more.” You find your voice.
“Um do you ever, use your um, quirk, when you-”
“Yeah.” He says. “I can, you know, not.” You swallow and rock up onto your tiptoes.
“No um, could I just, could I feel it, first, so I know what to expect?” He nods.
“Hold out your hands.” You turn to him, palms up, and he slaps one of his huge hands down on both of yours, it’s hot, just enough to sting, but not unbearable.
“Oh, fuck,” you let out a soft moan, it’s louder than you mean, though and you feel your face warm. “That’s um, it’s fine. That’s fine.” He smirks. “I um, last thing,” he waits patiently but you turn to your boyfriend. “You’re not allowed to be mad at me. This was your idea.”
“Of course I won’t be!” Deku protests, eyes wide, the picture of innocence. “I asked for this, and you’re the best girlfriend in the world for giving it to me.” Bakugou rolls his eyes.
“I won’t let him get snippy with ya sweetheart, come on,” He grins, “Help me tie him down, huh?” It takes a few minutes, but Bakugou is slow and methodical, testing the quirk bracer a few times. “Alright, try and get out, and I’ll remind you that it’s in your best interest to tell me if there’s any way you could get out.” Midoriya tests his bonds a little, and points to his left ankle, which Bakugou secures more, before attaching the chair he’s tied to to the radiator. “You bust outta this you’re gonna lose your security deposit.” Midoriya nods.
“Noted.” He looks at you quickly. “Hey,” he smiles, “Love you.” Bakugou watches carefully as the words seem to hit you hard, you balk a little, chewing on your lower lip.
“Love you too.” You say, with a soft, fake smile. Bakugou rolls his eyes, and jerks his head towards the hallway.
“The fuck is happening?” He says in a low growl when you’re out of earshot. “Do you actually want to do this, because we can just watch a movie and leave him like that all night.” You shiver.
“I do, um,” you whisper, “Want to.” He nods.
“Then what’s up?”
“That’s um,” you close your eyes, “The first time he’s said he loved me in a month.” Bakugou blinks a couple times.
“Huh.” He inspects you carefully. “When’s uh, when’s the last time you fucked?”
“Two weeks.” You whisper, with a nervous glance over your shoulder, and Bakugou can’t help the evil smile that spreads across his face.
“So you’re hurtin’ for it.”
“Shut up!” You punch him in the shoulder and then rear back, clutching your fist. “What the fuck are you made of?” You hiss and his smirk only widens.
“Real muscle, sweetheart.” He pats you on the shoulder. “Seriously, you don’t have to do shit to prove to that loser. Don’t do this if you don’t want to.” You swallow and your eyes flick up to his face.
“No I do, I want to.” You pause. “So I’m gonna fight you?” He shrugs, and then stretches.
“You’re gonna try.” You nod slowly and then look down at your clothes.
“Is this okay, it’s not like, lingerie.” He nods.
“Yeah, it’s fine, for cnc, anyway. Sure it would ruin the fantasy for Deku if you wore
lingerie for me.” He reaches out and tucks your hair behind your hear. “Limits?”
“Uh, soft on piss, hard on scat.”
“What about you?” You ask, and he thinks about it.
“Normally I’d say keep your nails away from my cock but you’re such a sweet little thing, aintcha,” He straightens up, “So I’ll say you’re welcome to try and hurt me.” You nod and he furrows his brow. “Sure you don’t wanna go in there and get a couple hits on him while he’s helpless?” You laugh and Bakugou shakes his head, “If anyone ever interrupted me like that I’d lose my shit.”
“Guess we’re different people.” He nods, and reaches into his backpack, then hesitates.
“Wait uh, just dig around in there and tell me if there’s anything that freaks you out.” You open it, rope, duck tape, zip ties, a small knife, vibrator, something clear and silicon that you don’t recognize, a medium sized dildo, condoms, handcuffs, lotion, washcloths, and makeup wipes.
“This is all fine.” He stops, hesitating one last time.
“I’m not gonna listen,” he growls, “If you say, no, or stop, or it hurts.” You nod. “Just the safewords, I mean obviously I’m not a fuckin’ moron, and I’ll check in alright?”
“I think you’re nervous.” You say, sticking your chin out the tiniest bit and that seems to reassure him a bit because with a low grunt, he picks you up, right over his huge shoulder, and takes his backpack in the other hand.
“Shut the fuck up.” He snaps, and carries you quickly into your bedroom with just a few long strides. He throws you down on the bed, and you attempt to squirm away, but he’s too quick for you, kissing you hard and clumsily, it’s all teeth, and tongue, and passion. Your little fists are nothing against his body, and for a moment, when you gasp for air between kisses you wonder if it might be genuinely hurting you more than it’s hurting him. He rips your shirt and sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your breast, you yelp with pain immediately, trying to get away from him, wriggling wildly but he slaps you lightly across the face. “I said shut the fuck up.” But you notice he’s pushed your attention back to your boyfriend, who is squirming in the chair he’s tied to, and you make eye contact with him just as Bakugou grinds a muscled thigh between your legs. A low waton noise escapes you and Bakugou laughs cruelly.
“I’m sorry,” you choke out, looking at Midoriya.
“That’s it,” Bakugou snarls, “Tell ‘im how sorry you fucking are, for lovin this so much.”
“I don’t,” you counter, looking back at the blonde, who slaps you again, this time a little harder, and tears burn in your eyes as he rips the rest of your clothing off, tugging his shirt over his head, “I don’t love it,” you say again more boldly, bracing for the third slap, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he leans down, and cups your face very gently, and you’re so surprised you stop fighting.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, princess.” He spits the pet name like an insult. “You’re gonna behave,” and he licks up the side of your face, it’s wet and sticky and gross, you screw your face up, trying to move away from him but for the first time he restrains you, holding both of your wrists above your head, “Or I’m gonna hurt ya, fuckin’ understand?” You open your mouth to retort but he presses his knee against your sex, hard and instead you gasp with pleasure.
“Fuck,” Midoriya breathes, and for a second, your attention is back on him, your boyfriend, straining against his bonds, an obvious tent forming in his pants. Bakugou takes the opportunity to slip out of his pants and boxers, kicking them away on the floor and grabbing the rope from his bag. You scoot across the bed but you’re no match for him, even if you finally get a good kick in on his chest, he loops it around your wrists and pulls it taught quickly, securing you to the metal headboard. He takes the knife from his backpack and slices through the center of your bra, and through the side of your panties, ripping both of them off of you.
You keep kicking and he takes a moment to marvel at the gentle sloping curve of your waist into your hips, of the way your breasts bounce when you struggle.
“Alright,” he says, yanking your foot to one side as he ties each ankle to a different corner of the bed, you catch him in the face with a well timed kick and he winces. “Stupid fuckin’ cunt,” he says angrily, tightening the bonds.
“Don’t call her that!” Midoriya says, aghast, and Bakugou turns his attention to your boyfriend with an evil grin, leaving you squirming and whimpering on the bed. You test the ropes but the knots are perfect, just tight enough to be uncomfortable. “Don’t, Kacchan, don’t-” Bakugou picks up your panties and shoves them delicately in Midoryas mouth before patting a piece of duct tape over it. Midoriya screams against the gag, fighting now in earnest, the tent in his pants even larger as Bakugou swaggers back over to the bed where your nipples are standing at attention in the cold of the bedroom.
“Look at these,” he says in a low rasp, palming your breasts, gently at first and then squeezing them harder, pinching your nipples in tandem, eliciting a bright, sharp cry from your lips. “Does that hurt, bitch?” He snarls, pulling harder as you keep struggling, refusing to look at him, so he grabs your jaw, and leans down to speak directly into your ear. “I asked you, a fuckin’ question, bitch.” He draws a hand back and slaps your chest hard.
“Yes,” you gasp, and he grins, watching the beginning of tears form in your eyes, making his cock twitch. “Yes, it hurts.” He hits your chest again, enjoying the soft give under his rough calloused hands, before taking them again and burying his face between them for a moment. You gasp in pain again, and he closes his mouth over one of your nipples gently tweaking the other as you arch your back and moan.
“That’s yes, daddy.” He growls, going back to sucking at your nipple, licking and biting the sensitive nub, and you blink up at him for a moment, Midoriya making a strangled cry against the gag. He knew it, knew he’d guessed right as to what Deku had you call him in bed, and he waits, gives you a chance to safeword out before you speak with trembling lips.
“Y-yes, daddy.” You hide a little from him. “P-please don’t hurt me.” He softens, trailing a hand down your body, between your legs, just gently dipping it between your folds.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” He says, genuine surprise almost coloring his face, “You like this, huh slut?” You pause and he slaps your clit, harder than he means to, but you don’t cry out, just bite down on your lip as the tears spill over. “Answer me when I goddamn talk to you.”
“Yes,” you choke out a sob, “Yes, daddy, I like it.” He rewards you for your honesty with a soft soothing touch to the affected area, before starting to fuck you with his fingers, ghosting little touches over your clit, enough to make you react, but not enough to give you any relief.
“Good girl,” He coos, “You gonna shuttup and take whatever I give you?” You glance nervously at Midoriya, who looks so blissed out he’s barely paying attention. “Oi,” Bakugou snaps, “Focus up slut.”
“Yes,” you promise, “Yes d-daddy, ‘m gonna,” you shudder out a gasp when he pushes the two fingers a little deeper inside of you measuring every reaction carefully, and thrusting a little quicker accordingly, “m gonna take what, what you give me, promise.”
“You like him watchin’ you?” He asks, “You filthy fuckin’ thing, gettin’ so wet cause your boyfriend’s watchin’ you get fucked by his best friend?” Your eyes widen. “That’s right princess, you’re fuckin’ lucky I’m preppin’ ya. I’m sure that pretty little pussy of yours isn’t used to real cock.” The pleasure overwhelms you, writhe against the restraints, rolling your hips against his hand, doing anything to increase friction, increase pleasure, increase the sensation of- “Whaddya think?” Bakugou turns to Midoriya, “You wanna watch her cum on my fuckin’ fingers?” Midoriya whimpers plaintively, huge muscles bulging as he ruts his hips against his sweatpants, equally focused on his own pleasure. “Pathetic.” Bakugou spits.
“Oh,” you whimper, “Oh my god,”
“Yeah,” Bakugou smirks, “Am I your fuckin’ god bitch?” Your eyes lose focus as you get closer to your high. “Beg me to cum.” He orders, “Beg your god to make you cum, in front of your fuckin’ cuck asshole of a boyfriend?”
“Please,” you cry out, all shame forgotten, “Please, please can I cum,”
“Please can I cum, god,” He snarls and you nod quickly, gasping for breath as you try to ride the edge of the cliff.
“Please, please god,” he chuckles, he almost can’t believe you actually did it, “Can I cum please,”
“You wanna cum in front of him?” You nod quickly, toes curling as you bite down on your lip. “He ever make you feel this good?”
“No,” you breathe, “No never.”
“Look at him.” Bakugou orders, taking your jaw with his free hand and holding it so tightly it squishes your face, “Look at him, and cum.” Your orgasm rips through you, and your eyes roll in your head as your vision whites out and waves of pleasure rock your body. Bakugou doesn’t release your jaw, slowing his pumps in and out of your core in accordance with your breathing’s return to normal. When he sees your eyes regain some clarity he climbs over you, and shoving his fingers in your mouth. “Clean me the fuck off.” He snaps, and you obey immediately, sucking gently at his fingers. “Color?” He asks gruffly and you blink a couple times before it registers.
“Gween,” you mumble around his fingers, “M fine.” He smirks. Good. He could push you further. At this angle, you can get a better look at his cock, long and thick with a slight upward tilt, it’s intimidatingly large. You’re so focused on it, you almost don’t feel him adjust you, tying both of your wrist to one side of the headboard, closest to Midoriya. Your head dangles off the edge now, his careful knotwork on your far ankle the only thing keeping you from sliding to the floor. He walks around the bed and takes a moment, brushing the hair from your face before pressing the head of his cock, smooth and pink with need, against your soft lips. He thinks about it and reaches over, just barely managing to rip the gag off of Midoriya before turning his attention back to you, and how you’re stubbornly keeping your mouth closed. Deku sputters and spits out your panties.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “Please, please, untie my hands, I need,”
“You think you get to fuckin’ cum?” Bakugou turns to him, angrily. “Nah, you sick fuck, gettin’ off on watching your girlfriend get slapped around?” He thinks for a moment. “Tell you what, bitch,” and it’s unclear at first who he’s speaking to, “If I cum before you do, I’ll have her give you some attention while I fuck her brains out.” Deku just whimpers, his cock harder than it’s ever been in his life, just the sensation of it rubbing against his sweatpants is driving him insane, there’s a dark grey stain on his light grey sweatpants from precum.
“Open up,” Bakugou snaps, palming your breasts roughly, he knows it’s hard enough to bruise when you whimper, but he can’t help himself, you’re so soft. “I’m bein’ real nice to ya,” he says, slapping you across the face with his cock, “Especially when you’re just a dirty fuckin’ whore who cums for anyone who pays her a little attention huh?” Your eyes widen and you keep your mouth shut, shaking your head. He grins, and kneels beside you, “High and mighty all of a sudden, huh cocksleve,” he pinches your nose shut and you start to squirm, pulling at the rope around your wrists. “Breathing is for good girls.” He growls. “Course you could always open up that useless fuckin’ hole of yours, but you won’t do that will ya?” He shakes his head, with a mean laugh, “You know, I was gonna let you suck my dick rather than fuckin’ your face. Too bad you’re such a bratty little bitch huh?” Your face is warming, your lungs screaming for oxygen. You open your mouth, determined it’ll be quick but he’s got you where he wants you, shoving two thick fingers in between your lips, barely allowing you to suck in breath. “You got one last chance,” Bakugou says, “Or I’ll get something to hold this open for me, understand? Somethin’ unpleasant.” You nod, blinking more tears from your eyes as he stands back up and withdraws his fingers, barely letting you breathe before pushing his cock into your mouth. It’s heavy on your tongue, and in your current position, it slides effortlessly down your throat.
“Shit.” Midoriya breathes, watching the way your neck is bulging with his cock, “Shit that’s so fucking hot, oh my god,” he pulls at the bonds again, wanting to get up, to press down on the bulge, to see your tears spill as you gag.
“Fuck yeah,” Bakugou murmurs, the softest sound he’s made all night, “That’s it princess, fuck yeah,” his thrusts are careful, caluclated, allowing you to breathe just enough so that you stay conscious, delighting in your gasping sputtering gags, as he takes his cock out and taps it on your face, coating you in precum and your own spit, before sliding it back in. “You’re fuckin’ filthy,” he repeats, in the same amazed, breathless tone, “You don’t do this for that cuck, do you,” he pulls out to allow you to answer and you do, honestly,
“No,’ you wheeze, before he goes back to slowly and methodically fucking your throat, and Midoriya moans again loudly.
“Fuck, please, Kacchan, I swear, I’ll be good, I swear.”
“You’re beggin’ now?” Bakugou stops mid stroke, cock buried in you, his balls resting softly on your forehead as you begin to squirm, indicating that you need to breathe. “Tell me somethin’,” he says, “You think you wanna cum more than she needs to breathe right now?” Midoriya whines, “You tell me that you wanna cum, more than you wanna see me take my dick outta her airway, and I’ll have her suck you off.” You whimper against him, eyes wide, you need air, your lungs are burning with need. Midoriya thinks for a moment, mind hazy, thinking only of the pain between his legs, the dull ache taking over his mind.
“Need to cum,” He gasps, and Bakugou scowls, ripping his cock out of your mouth, letting you gasp for air as drool drips down your face, “More than she needs to breathe,”Midoriya says, watching you attempt to catch your breath. “Please, need it, need-” Bakugou gets up and snatches something from his bag, shoving the wiffle ball gag in the pro heroes mouth and fastening it behind his head.
“That’s about enough outta you.” Bakugou growls, and he can hear the muffled, Kacchan, kacchan you promised, but he ignores it, loosing your wrists from the side of the bed and fastening them back to the center before nearly effortlessly freeing your legs from each corner. Before you really know what’s happening, you’re flipped on your stomach, knees bent underneath you. He presses your back into an arch and gently rubs the head of his cock on your softness with a loud groan, before turning back to Midoriya. “Gonna forget about your ass for a little, and just enjoy your girlfriend’s sweet,” he inches inside, “Wet,” he takes a fistful of your ass before pushing another couple inches, “Cunt.” He pounds into you and you keen, laying on the side of your face so that you can look your boyfriend dead in the eyes, “Fuck baby,” Bakugou growls, as he pushes mewl after mewl from your lips. You’ve never felt this full before, this, satisfied, and your brain is a million miles away as you start to babble incoherently.
“Fuck, fuck yes,” you moan loudly, “Please, please don’t stop.”
“That’s it’ princess,” Bakugou moans, as you push back against his thrusts so that he can fuck you harder, every soft part of your body jiggling when his hips collide with your ass. He brings his hand down hard on your ass and you sigh with pleasure, reacting like he’d kissed you softly. He grins, somehow getting harder inside you, your perfect velvety walls squeezing him as you lose all sense of yourself.
“Please daddy,” you beg, “More, more please.” He lands another spank and you choke out a moan, this one betraying a little discomfort but with the way your cunt is squeezing and fluttering around him, he’s not about to stop.
“Atta fuckin’ girl,” Bakugou growls, “You close, you gonna cum for me?” You nod emphatically, ruse and roleplay and tied up boyfriend forgotten, you’re so drunk on the best cock you’ve had in years, that when you open your mouth to beg words barely come out.
“Please, daddy,” you say again, “Wanna cum on your cock, please,”
“So fuckin’ dirty,” he chides, “Tell me you love it.”
“I love it!” You chant, half cry, half sob, “I love it I love it so much!”
“Is this the best fuck you’ve ever had,” Bakugou taunts, expecting some resistance, but you just nod again,
“Yes,” you moan, face pressed to the bed, drool leaking from your mouth. Eyes unfocused. “Yes daddy, this’s the best fuck I’ve ever had.” Whatever self control Bakugou had been previously exercising dissipates at your words, pounding into you, brutally fucking you into oblivion.
“You can cum bitch,” He snaps, “Just tell me you’re my fuckin’ bitch, tell me who you goddamn belong to.”
“You, you, you, daddy!” You cry and he spanks you one last time, collapsing on top of you as you both cum, bodies tangled and twitching and sweaty, both only semi conscious of what’s happening. Bakugou remembers where he is before you do, and moves back, pulling out of your pussy with a lewd squelch, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before walking slowly up to your boyfriend. He pulls the gag out and Midoriya immediately whines.
“Please, please untie my hands, quickly.” Bakugou thinks about it, reaching for the knife he’d left on your bedside table.
“Depends.” Bakugou says, “You gonna eat my cum outta her pussy like a good boy?” Midoriya blinks a couple times.
“That, that wasn’t part of the deal, you weren’t even supposed to do that.” he hisses, and Bakugou shrugs, watching Midoriya’s pupils dilate as he looks at the cum leaking out of your pussy, while you shiver in the cool of the bedroom, then back to his own cock, the stain from the precum on his sweatpants growing.
“What’s it gonna be?” He says, and Midoriya nods slowly, then desperately as Bakugou slices through the tape and rope, letting the slightly shorter man leap across the room and bury his face in your cunt, suckling needily as he fists his own cock and you groan at the extra stimulation. It takes Deku about a full minute to reach his own climax, release splattering over his abs, he dabs at it with a t-shirt and then wipes his face, before collapsing next to you on the bed.
“Bunny,” he moans, “I love you so much.” Bakugou watches you swallow nervously, and gently unties your wrists from the headboard.
“Hold her, dumb shit.” Bakugou snaps. “Haven’t you ever heard of aftercare?” You sniff, and Bakugou yanks on his sweatpants before tossing you his t shirt. You wiggle into it as you begin to tremble. Midoriya pats your hand softly, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, lying down on the other side of you, pressing his chest to your back. “Good girl,” he rumbles, “You did such a good job for us,” He says, rubbing little circles in your hips with his thumb, then looking meaningfully at Midoriya.
“Oh uh,” he says, looking sheepish, “Good job, you were, you were so perfect, bunny, you’re so sweet for me all the time. You nod, sniffling harder.
“Thanks ‘zuku.” You say, snuggling into him, away from Bakugou, who swallows, and nods. “You were so mean, Bakugou,” you giggle lightly, “I didn’t think you could be so mean.” You shiver, and he presses his lips to your temple.
“You are smart, and strong, and beautiful.” He says in a low growl, trying to prompt Midoriya, who seems a bit distracted with his own bliss. “You know I don’t think of you like uh,” he thinks about it, “A uh, a cocksleeve.” You laugh softly, and he relaxes as some of the warmth returns to your eyes. “You’re a good girl.” He says again, and you sigh happily, relaxing into him. Something tugs at his heart, and he stands, cleaning up the bedroom while you take your boyfriend’s hand. “You should take a shower with her.” Bakugou says, hovering in the doorway. “Ah, you should you know, just like extra soft, extra nice, and stuff, you know just uh, this is a lot, it’s intense, and I know it’s her first time doing this kind of-”
“I’ll be fine.” Midoriya says, scooping you up in his arms. “Thank you honestly, we should do it again sometime, when she’s up for it.” Bakugou plays it as casually as he possibly can, eyes on your soft glossy lips. He swallows.
“Yeah uh, honestly,” he shrugs, “Had fun. So uh, when-”
“This weekend?” Midoriya says desperately, “Please?” Bakugou’s eyes flick to your limp form.
“Just uh, if she’s down, you know.”
“Oh yeah,” Midoriya says, “Baby’s such a sweet angel, I’m sure she’s down.” You nod softly into his chest and the blondes heart aches when you reach for him, squirming away from your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck in a quick hug. It might be his imagination, but he feels your lips on his neck. He carefully watches Deku, but his eyes don’t catch any jealousy, any misgivings.
“I’m wearing your shirt?” You mumble, as if you’re just realizing, tugging it off and handing it to him. “You can’t go out like that.” He nods, taking the soft black shirt back and pulling it on.
“See, ya.” He says gruffly. “Cuck.” Midoriya blushes. “Princess.” He says gruffly, and he walks through your living room and into the hallway of the apartment building.
“C’mon bunny.” He hears Midoriya say, “Let’s get in the shower, unless you just wanna crash?”
Bakugou showers at his own place, tossing his backpack in the closet. He fluffs his hair in the mirror, doing some light stretches before lying in his bed. He tucks himself in, turns the light off, and starts scrolling through his phone. He reads the news for a bit before saying,
“Fuck it,” out loud, and opening pornhub. He scrolls through video after video, none of them scratching his itch, testing keywords and new phrases, until he finds what he’s looking for, someone with, fuck, the same color eyes as you, who stares at the camera with the same gentle innocence.
“Oh daddy,” the pornstar says in a kittenish voice, and he winces at the lack of verisimilitude, of connection, compared to what he’d just experienced. “Come on, daddy, your bad wittle girl wants to-” His phone vibrates with a text, rescuing him from just shutting down the browser all together.
Bakugou: whats up
He curses himself for texting back so quickly, but relaxes when he sees the little dots indicating you’re typing.
You: ah izuku crashed.
Bakugou: shit sweetheart you gotta tell him he has to do aftercare with you or you’re not gonna be his fuckin kinky ginea pig.
You: I mean, I liked it.
Bakugou: obviously. Whats up tho.
You: now i feel bad. I dunno like, I’m shaky, I feel weird.
Bakugou: pain/fear = endorphins, you’re coming off a high
You: so no wine or depressants im guessing
Bakugou: no shit dumbass.
Bakugou: did he seriously crash?
You: yeah it’s nbd, he works a lot.
Bakugou: I work a lot.
Bakugou sighs, flipping his smartphone in his hands and fidgeting, porn forgotten.
Bakugou: call me.
You hesitate, curled up on the couch in one of Izuku’s t-shirts and a throw blanket. But you and Bakugou were friends, weren’t you? He’d made you feel so good, not just during the sex but after and before, and he’d always looked after you when you’d shrink inside yourself during large gatherings of Izuku’s hero friends. You press the phone icon.
“Hey,” There’s a rush of static when you breathe into the phone.
“Hey,” He repeats, and kicks himself for not thinking of a more emotionally intelligent greeting. “You uh, you okay?”
“I feel weird.” You say, and your voice sounds small, like you’re caving in on yourself. “I, I liked it, I had fun I just feel weird now.” There’s a pause, Bakugou doesn’t speak so you continue. “Bakugou if um, if you were here, what uh, what would you be doing?” He grunts a little, sitting up on his bed.
“Where are you?” He asks gruffly.
“Oof,” Bakugou says, “Didn’t wanna get in bed with him?”
“No.” The admission falls from your lips, unbidden.
“Whatcha wearin’?” He asks and that gets a half hearted laugh out of you.
“Shuttup it’s fucking relevant.” He snaps. You sigh into the phone.
“A t shirt, a bra and panties.” You say, “And I’m wrapped in a blanket.” He nods.
“Okay, If I were there,” He says, “I’d hold you, on the couch, with your head propped up on my arm, and I’d be helpin’ with you wherever it hurt.” He takes a deep breath. “So uh, where does it hurt?” He hears you stretch and sigh. You think about it, your whole body feels achey, in a good way, except for the pain just below your ribs.
“My throat is sore,” you say, after considering, and he chuckles,
“Yeah it is.”
“Shut up!” You hiss. “And um, my hips are sore, like where they meet my ribs?” In his apartment, Bakugou smirks.
“Yeah, I uh mighta gonna a little hard on you for a first timer.”
“I wasn’t a virgin.” You whisper defensively.
“Obviously.” He grunts. “Listen, you gotta uh, you’re not gonna feel better unless you comfort yourself, so grab some uh, like scented lotion, and work on the things that hurt, ice them or get a heating pad. Or kick deku the fuck out of bed and tell him to pay attention to his girlfriend.” You laugh lightly.
“Fuck,” you pause, “Should I do that?”
“Hell yes you should!” Bakugou says, a touch of anger seeping into his tone, “He asked you to do this for him, even if ya liked it I could tell we were leagues out of your comfort zone.”
“But I trust you.” For some reason that little interjection hits him hard, warmth spreading slowly across his chest. “And um,” you swallow, “He doesn’t like it when I wake him up, he gets a little uh,” you reach for the right word, “Cranky when he doesn’t get enough rest.”
“What’s Deku like when he’s cranky?” Bakugou says, barking out a laugh, “I’ve never seen it.” He instantly regrets his joking tone when you force out the most joyless laugh he’s ever heard.
“He’s um,” he hears your voice pinch, “He smiles the whole time, and says something like, you know, I’ve got so much on my plate, and I’ve got so much going on I just need to sleep and have a supportive partner, you can handle something simple like that, right?” You cough at the end of your terrible impersonation and treat Bakugou to the second most joyless laugh he’s ever heard.
“I know,” your voice breaks, “I know it’s bad, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have downplayed it, I-” you take a shakey breath, “This, this isn’t your problem, you shouldn’t-”
“Shut the fuck up, I’m coming over.”
“You can’t!” You breathe desperately, “He’ll wake up, and he’ll be upset with me.” Bakugou chuckles.
“He’s not gonna get mean with you in front of me.” You can hear him moving, presumably looking for shoes, “Deku’s got an image to protect. Let me in, I’ll be there in 10.”
“O-okay.” You press END on the call and he hears you let a choked sob into your pillow before the line disconnects. He groans loudly before tossing his phone across the room. That little sob, that tiny defeated sound echoes around his empty apartment. Fuck it. He’d run there.
You’re crying on the couch, partially ashamed of your weakness and partially still feeling completely unmoored when you hear a soft knock at the door. Tentatively, you stand, padding quietly to the door and looking through the peephole.
“Bakugou,” You swing the door open
“I don’t,” you fidget, “I don’t know about I mean, I don’t know if you should be here.” Bakugou nods slowly, but he can’t, he can’t just leave. You take him in, there’s a speckle of raindrops on his shoulder, and you realize, the light coat of sweat on his body, his sweatpants and t-shirt, he ran here.
“I just wanna,” he looks away, “I mean, I broke you apart, right, I know, I thought your fuckin’ boyfriend would put you back together, but uh, someone’s gotta.” You consider, and he watches your decision making process with interest, your eyes flick to the closed door where he can almost hear Deku snoring, then to his hands and back to his face. Almost in slow motion you take a single one of his fingers and lead him to the couch, sitting cross legged across from him. “How long uh,” he tucks his legs under the blanket, “How long has it been like this?”
“A few months.” You say, corners of your mouth drooping. “At first we’d fight about it, but I think he’s kinda given up. I was honestly thinking,” you look over your shoulder and then back at Bakugou, “About um, you know a more serious conversation, like a break, when he suggested we try this.” Bakugou blinks.
“He wanted to try, to try me and you, because-”
“He said he felt distant from me, and this might help I,” you chew your lip, “I really enjoyed it, I mean it’s not like he forced me,” a small sad smile spreads across your face, “I thought maybe he’d be jealous. Guess I was ah, hurting for it.” There’s a pause, and the two of you sit in the darkness, listening to Deku snore.
“People say a lotta shit about me.” Bakugou rumbles. “I don’t listen, for the most part, I,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “Like that I’m selfish, and competitive and an asshole, and I, I know I am those things, you know I just wander around, slicin’ people on my sharp edges, but I, I’m a fuckin’ hero at the end of the day this is the only job I ever wanted.” You nod.
“I just,” He fumbles for the words, “So right now, when I say get the fuck over here, I just, I wanted you to know that’s the instinct I’m chasing.” Your eyes widen with surprise. He reaches out and takes your hand, guiding you until you’re lying down together, you facing him, about three inches of space between your bodies.
“Bakugou,” you whisper, “ I shouldn’t have let you in.”
“Why,” he cups your face with one hand, “So why did you?” You lean into his warmth, and take a deep breath.
“I think I, I wanted to be touched softly so bad.” He nods, gently stroking your cheek.
“I shouldn’t have come.” He responds, and then reassures you, “I won’t try shit, I promise, please, just, I can’t stand to see ya like this.” You let him fold you into his chest, shuddering into him. “Sometimes, I think, y’know him gettin’ his quirk from All Might, that it saved me a little.” You look up at him, surprised, only having seen Bakugou snap at the good natured ribbing from his friends at Him and Izuku’s old competition, Deku long having solidified his place as number one.
“What do you mean?” You whisper, and he shrugs.
“I think,” he murmurs, “I’d just hate to see myself as so much, y’know, as so big, so that people around me look like ants.” He thinks about it. “Especially, someone who loved me, uh, as much as you clearly love him.”
“I do.” Tears burn in your eyes now. “I love him so much. Do you wanna hear something funny?” He nods.
“I tried.” You breathe. “I said, I think maybe we’re meant for a deep and meaningful friendship, and uh, he just said no, I don’t think that’s it.” Bakugou snorts and your eyes widen. “Shhhh!”
“Listen,” Bakugou rumbles. “Keep tryin’ if you love the idiot or whatever.” He pulls away so you can see him grin. “He already texted me about this weekend.” You smile despite yourself. “I got some ideas myself,” you feel his lips on your cheek, on your ear, “‘S far as I’m concerned, when he gives you to me, you’re fuckin’ mine.” You bury your face in his chest and he tangles his hands in your hair. He smells so good, and he’s so warm, you realize you could fall asleep right there.
“Mmhm, okay.” You mumble. “Question.”
“What’s up?” He whispers.
“You’re not, you know, doing this to um, get back at him, for like-”
“No.” Bakugou says, louder than he means. “Nah, I uh, I mean fuckin’ deku’s girlfriend sounded fun to me when he proposed it but I uh, I’m not here right now for anythin’ other than, y’know I was worried about you.”
“Really?” You mumble. “Getting soft on me, Dynamight?” He chuckles lowly.
“Brat to me at your own fuckin’ risk sweeheart.” You shudder. “Aw,” He breathes, “Is baby scared?”
“No.” You protest, “I’m not scared of you.” He presses his lips to your forehead.
“You shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m gonna-” You both freeze when you hear Midoriya turn over in bed and then call,
“Bunny,” He calls, and Bakugou smirks at you, “You coming to bed?”
“Yep!” You say quickly, standing, Bakugou immediately missing the warmth and weight of your body in his arms.
“Bunny?” Bakugou mouths, shaking his head with a smirk, and you shrug, shooing the huge blonde towards the door.
“Get out.” You close the door on him quickly, and run to your bedroom, scooting quickly underneath your blanket and moving towards your boyfriends.
“Hey,” you whisper in the dark, guilt ripping through you, “Hey Izuku.” He moves closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you to his chest before letting you flop next to him. “Hey,” you try again, “Hey, I know, um, just if we do that again um, I just need, um some more like, attention from you after.” He props his head up, clearly struggling to stay awake.
“You know, um,” you fidget with the sheets. “Bakugou said we were supposed to do aftercare and stuff and I-”
“I know,” Deku sighs happily. “You know, I work so much, and I spend all day helping people, and I just, I feel so grateful to have a partner who is so self sufficient.” Your heart thrums in your chest. “I mean I don’t have a ton of energy at the end of the day but you’re always around when I need you.” You swallow.
“Yeah um,” your eyes well with tears. “Sometimes, Izuku, I need support too.” There’s a silence. “Izuku?” You hear a snore, and realize he’s fallen asleep. Your phone buzzes.
Bakugou: don’t stay up too late.
You: I won’t.
You: why did you worry about me
Bakugou: he said he loved you and you flinched.
You: did I?
Bakugou: i told you.
Bakugou: this is the only job I ever wanted. So I pay attention.
You: yes, will do.
A few days later you’re coming back in with a light bag of groceries, and Deku is sitting at your apartment island, scrolling through his phone.
“Hey,” He runs to you and holds you to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He’s stepped up the affection since having Bakugou over, though he’s as hard to read as ever. You take a deep breath through your nose. “Kacchan’s coming later, you up for it?” You swallow nervously, you hadn’t talked to Bakugou since he came over and he hadn’t reached out again, but it was undeniably the best sex of your life, you shiver at just the memory of his hands on your body.
“Yeah.” You smile, mouth going dry. “What’s in the box?” Deku shrugs.
“It’s addressed to you.” You open it and your gasp draws his attention.
“Holy shit.” He breathes, eyes like saucers, “Put that on right now.” The Dynamight Official lingerie is complicated, with an elastic around your waist, white with orange lettering, attached to a pair of dark green thigh highs, that your skin squishes around, the plush of your waist and thighs soft around the elastic. The bra is also dark green, with an elastic band, with the same orange lettering on white, but the final straw is the pair of mid waisted dark green mesh panties, with sheer panels, and a message sewn right into the crotch, right where the threads would brush the most sensitive parts of a woman, matching the lining around your waist, under your bust, and you haven’t seen it yet, but dangling from the green leather collar in the box, Property Of Dynamight.
Your heart is racing, as you wiggle into the lingerie, straightening the thigh highs.
“Baby,” Deku groans, “Baby this is so fucking hot.” Your face is warm and you fidget as he cups your face in his hands and palms your breast. “Fuck you look so good like this.” He reaches for you, and the door opens, and all 6’6 of Bakugou Katsuki looms in the doorway, all the blood in his head rushing below his waist at the sight of you, covered in his name. All he does, however, is walk over and reach into the box, removing the expensive leather collar and leash.
“Forgot the most important part,” he hits Deku lightly on the back of the head. “Shithead.”
if u enjoyed this fic please consider reblogging it <3
Summary: Dustin has you and Steve on the move when he hears something about his friends. He left you and Steve alone for a while and you break the sexual tension.
Warnings: smut, cursing , unprotected sex
A/N: sorry if this isn’t good, my first time writing about Steve all feedback is good :)
*please do not claim any of my work as your own, feel free to reblog :)
You and Steve laid on your bed flipping through the old year book. “Look at your hair!” You laughed pointing to an old picture of Steve. “Hey! I was like 15.” He laughed covering up the picture. “You still look like a dork.” you chuckled. “A cute one now though right?” Steve laughed. “Maybe.” You looked over at him with a smile. “Admit it, you think I'm cute!” Steve gasped. “Maybe a tad bit harrington.” You rolled your eyes. “Tad bit?” he moved in closer to your face. “Maybe a bit more.” You inched closer to him.
“We need to leave NOW!” Dustin busted open the door to your room. “What the hell Dustin!?” You yelled at him. “I'll explain in the car.” He hurried out. “Way to kill it.” You muttered and grappled out of bed. “Move it!” Dustin yelled, pushing you and Steve out of the house.
As usual Dustin had you and Steve on the run for some reason. You didn't exactly believe him at first but once you saw what you saw you believed everything he said. “Code red Mike. I repeat, code RED!” Dustin yelled into his walkie. The only thing you could hear back was static. “Dustin, would you shut up?!” You yelled at your brother. “Y/n thi is a life or death emergency. Do you mind? Mike, do you copy?” He yelled back at you as he furiously tried to get the others to answer.
“What the hell is going on?” Steve butt in looking at Dustin in his rearview. “El is missing, she disappeared from the Byers” he briefly explained. You tried to ignore Dusting screaming into his walkie, your body stiffened as you got more aggrivated. Steve's hand slipped onto your thigh giving you a little squeeze. “Relax.” He mouthed giving you his bright cheesy smile. His touch slightly relaxed you. “Dustin, will you explain?” You turned around in your seat to face him. “The bad men, they got to El.” He says trying to catch his breath. You and Steve looked at eachother with concern. You had been on the move with him ever since this shit had started. You knew it was important now and couldn't leave the cops to it.
“Please just trust me.” Dustin says. “Left Left left!” Dustin screamed. The car had turned so fast the tires squealed as you drove up a random hill.
“What the hell Henderson!?” You turned around to your brother. “Just trust me.” He says. The car made it up to a plateau not being able to push any farther. “Ok so she wont go up any farther than this.” Steve says, throwing on the parking brake. “Fine.” Dustin hopped out and disappeared up the hill.
“My god.” you sighed, sinking back into the seat. “I know, he's a lot to handle.” Steve chuckled. “Tell me about it.” You laughed. “Just remember, he's saved us, what twice now?” He chuckled. “Yea.” you sighed. “He never stops. Like ever.” He laughed. Steve's soft eyes landed on your, making you melt into your seat. “He adores you Steve.” You smiled while blushing. “Oh really?” He asked. “Yeah, and I see why.” You chuckled. Your eyes flicked to his hand that was still on your thigh. Millions of thoughts ran through your head quickly. The tension between the two of you was unbearable.
“Fuck this.” You leaned over to Steve pressing your lips against his, moving in unison. You let your lips take over your body, you found yourself climbing onto his lap. Your hands made a home in his messy hair as His hands draped over your hips gently grinding you against his member. You could feel him getting hard under you. Soft moans fell from your mouth into his. His lips moved subtly from your mouth onto your jaw, trailing down to your neck.
“Steve, h- he could be back any minute.” You stuttered. A heartbeat formed in your clit, the feeling only grew stronger as he moved you against him. You could feel the wetness pooling under you. “Shh let me take care of you.” His fingers slipped under your shirt strap dropping it off of your shoulders. Your breath became heavy as your heart rate increased. Steve lifted your shirt over your head tossing it somewhere in the car following with his shirt. He unclasped your bra and your tits sprung out bouncing in front of him. “Oh my god.” He mumbled under his breath. He rolled your nipple in between his fingers whilst kissing you. His mouth kissed down your chest trail;ing to your tits. He cupped one in his hand and his mouth on the other. He gently tugged at you, making you whine.
“Take those shorts off for me baby.” He pulled back. Still kissing him, you tried unbuttoning your shorts and slipping them off, moving to his shorts he pushed himself up helping you remove them. You straddled him in your underwear still moving against his hardened member. “Steve, please do something.” You whined into his mouth. His fingers dropped into your underwear and he made circles over your clit.
“Fuck youre so wet.” He grinned as he slid his fingers between your slickness. Twirling his fingers around your wetness he rubbed your soaked clit. “Fuck Steve.” You moaned, grinding yourself harder into his hand. “Don't stop.” You mutter into his neck. You buried your face into his neck and sucked gently on him. “Shit.” You gently bit his neck making his moves harsher. “Keep grinding on me like that.” he moaned, guiding you along him. The spiraling feeling grew in your heat, you felt your orgasm approaching. “St-steve im gonna.” You say in between breaths. He picked up his speed circling around you. “Fuck!” You screamed out as you fell against him. ��Good girl.” He combed his hand through your hair.
“Steve i need you to fuck me.” You exasperated. “I've been waiting fir that one.” Steve chuckled as he slid his boxers down. His cock sprung up hitting his stomach. His cock was throbbing and leaking precum. “Ready for me?” He asks. “Never been more ready.” You smirked, pulling your underwear over to the side. He lifted you by your hips and sunk you onto his cock gently letting you adjust to his size. “Oh my god.” You shuddered, feeling him throughout your body. “Fuck youre so tight.” he mumbled throwing his head into the seat. His hands rested on your hips helping you bounce along his cock.
“You feel like heaven“ He panted. His brown eyes looked up at you and fluttered. You giggled and traced your hand over his soft chest. The look you gave him sent him over the edge, he gripped your hips tightly leaving an imprint on you. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him. He bucked his hips up into you as you moved opposite of him. “Oh my god.” You moaned, gripping onto his shoulders. “Yea you like that? Dirty girl.” He hummed. “Yes yes!” you screamed out. Your moans filled the car up quickly, the windows became fogged up. He slammed you down onto his cock, the knot forming in your stomach was about to burst. “Im gonna cum steve.” You winced digging your nails into his shoulders. “Im gonna fill you up baby.” He says. “Fucking fill me.” You whined.
“Cum for me.” He bucked into you a few more times. “My god.” You screamed as you felt yourself cum. His seed spilled into you, he pulled your chest against his. You sat on top of him regaining your breath. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to pound you like that.” He chuckled. “Should've said it sooner.” You laughed, you hopped off of him and climbed into the passenger seat and dressed yourself. “I just didn't know how you'd feel, y/n. I didn't wanna ruin this.” He says motioning between the two of you. “This?” You questioned. “Yea, like our friendship.” He says. “Nothing would ruin this.” You laughed.
The two of you were in a conversation when Dustin's face appeared at the window. “My god you scared the shit out of me.” You laughed at your brother. “El is with Mike at the wheelers, false alarm.” Dustin sighed. “So everythings good?” Steve says, starting the car back up. “ No, how could everything be okay if we have fucking monsters running around!” Dustin yelled. “Jeez dude, relax.” Steve laughed. “Just go towards Mikes.” Dustin says. “On it captain.” Steve laughed.
Looking over at Steve you smiled and felt happy inside. You reached your hand over the console and opened it to welcome his hand. He happily took your hand in his and gave you a squeeze. “What the hell?” Dustin gagged. “Shut it Henderson.” Steve laughed making you giggle.
@valeriiecameron @gillybear17 @angel-hubz @alexxavicry
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“Life is worth it, I’ll prove it” - Bruce Wayne/ Battinson x Fem!Reader
Synopsis : Tonight is the night. Tonight, you’re finally too tired to continue, it’s enough. Your decision is made. This is the end. Finally. Except, your path crosses The Batman’s, and he’s not about to give up on you. He won’t ever give up again. Can he really save you, though ?
TW : Suicidal thoughts. Spoilers for the movie (about Bruce’s character development, but no major plot points or events).
Bruce, atop one of his favorite building (Old Wayne Tower had always fascinated him, even as a child), was perusing Gotham city.
And, he realized, he did not feel the usual rage inside him, that overwhelmed him whenever he looked at those streets.
Those streets which took his parents away from him.
How novel, to not feel this resentment.
To look at what he once only saw as grim, and a way to avenge his parents mindless murder, in a new light.
To look at those streets...
Those streets which took too many parents away from their children. Too many children from their parents. Too many brothers, sisters, lovers, friends...
Yet. Yet here he was. Looking down there, with a new sense of purpose. Without this need for vengeance. This pure hatred and grief turned into violence, that was all too familiar...was gone.
It was both odd and amazing. It was both exhilarating and a little scary. Because, being “Vengeance” was easy. He could just pounce on villains, and use his brain to foil their plans. Destroy. Hurt. Ravage. Easy.
But being a sigil of hope ? It colored everything in a new way. It meant he had to be more careful, to be the one who will give Gotham City’s inhabitants a new ray of sunshine. Difficult, when you were a night vigilante.
Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. To think he realized, after two years “on the job”, what he really stood for, was still a little strange.
Yet it happened. Finally, some might say (some being mainly a certain Alfred Pennyworth). And although the pain inside his heart would never truly go away entirely, it wasn’t a source of vengeance anymore, but of hope. And love.
Because in the end, what drove him to become the Batman ? Was it the need to avenge, or the love for his parents which turned into pure hatred for crime ? A love so strong that once it was torn apart by their death, it was also distorted into something dark and unbearable.
Yes. It was love which drove his every decisions. Love for his mother and father, for Alfred, for his city and its inhabitants. (And maybe a little love for punching those who deserved in in the face, without fear of repercussion).
Another chuckle. What would the Bruce from two years ago think ? And the one from over a decade ago ? Ah, but those Bruces were ones that were still stuck in the “anger” phase of grief. And the Bruce from now ?
Acceptance to be more than his pain. Acceptance to be a beacon of hope. To be more than that kid who witnessed his parents’ murder. Acceptance to be truly and fully, The Batman, the one that city deserved and needed.
The pain of his loss would never truly go away, but now...Now there was a silver lining amongst the clouds.
And he felt -no- he knew there was a future, after all. One not constantly dimmed by an endless amount of hurt.
Maybe it was fate, that just as he truly processed all of that, as he realized there was always hope even amongst endless nights, that he met you.
Someone who looked utterly lost, and all alone in the world.
Someone who had the same inkling of pain and despair in their eyes, the one Bruce could recognize anywhere because he saw it every day for the past fifteen years every time he looked at himself in the mirror.
Someone standing way too close from that building’s edge...
Climbing on the little wall “securing” the rooftop was easier than you thought.
What if it was too high ? What if you couldn’t lift yourself up ?
You told yourself that if it was the case, then it was a sign that you shouldn’t do it. That you shouldn’t jump. It was always like that right ? If everything wasn’t perfectly aligned, then you wouldn’t do it.
This wasn’t the first time your suicidal thoughts overtook your entire being.
The first time it felt like nothing mattered anymore, not even you. The first time you felt like a burden pulling everyone down with you, and honestly, wouldn’t they be better without you ?
This wasn’t the first time that you felt dead inside, like you’re just a ghost living in a body you don’t recognize. When look in the mirror, you see a stranger. A pale, tired, miserable stranger that kind of looks like you.
This wasn’t the first time.
What once made you happy is now tedious, and what once made you just a little bummed out makes you want to die.
You scrolled through your phone contacts that night, as this moment of deepest need started to rise. But you were sure that there wasn’t a single person who would help you without resenting you. Have you been lying to yourself all along about how much you matter ? Yes. Yes you have, haven’t you ?
Everything was so dark and hopeless. And you get that all too familiar tunnel vision surrounded by pain and the only way out is to end it all. The numbness is so deep and excruciating it overwhelms and drains everything out of you. Words can’t even describe how lonely and terrifying this is.
This isn’t the first time. And you’re so tired.
When will this end ?
It’s as if you don’t even exist. You feel useless, worthless, unworthy and like you’re a burden. It’s like an elephant is sitting on you, holding you down and keeping you from living (but also keeping you from dying ?). It’s as if you watch, lifeless and numb, as everyone carries around unaware you even exist, unaware of your constant fight inside, unaware...
You did try to talk about it.
A few times.
To friends. Or, at least, people you thought were friends. Because when you started to finally talk about your never-ending suicidal ideas, they shrugged it off as you being too stress. Or said things like : “you need to seek professional help” and HOW ?!
Your health insurance wasn’t covering therapy sessions. You barely scraped by, like many in Gotham City...how could you afford professional help ? You knew they were right. You did need to see a therapist. But you also all knew that their suggestion was unfortunately impossible.
Because you didn’t have the money. Because this was “the American dream”, and you didn’t even have time to do any self-care. When you weren’t working, you were sleeping. And vice-versa. Or quite literally, you would end up not even being able to pay to survive (and was it so bad ?).
And so here you are. All alone again. And you feel like you’re drowning in the middle of the ocean, and Death is a floating raft. All you can do is to keep wading until you completely exhaust yourself, or finally climb aboard it...
Nobody could help. Nobody would help anyway.
You were sure of it.
Because you already tried to talk, and the answers were all the same. Friends ended up drifting away from you. Couldn’t blame them. After all, who would want to be around someone who could sometimes just be a total buzzkill, and rant too much about how they felt everything was wrong ?
When you so often felt suicidal, rejection from others was normal, you thought.
Others too, had to take care of their own mental health. Being around you was a curse. That’s how it felt. Talking to you drained people. And your countless call for help ended up isolating you even more.
Why ? Did they not understand ? Was it too much for them ? Was helping someone like you...just impossible ? An unbearable burden ?
Yes. Yes. That was it.
And this was it.
The wall was easy to climb. You didn’t meet anybody on your way up to the rooftop, and there was not a soul around to even try to stop you. Everything was aligned, that night.
And here you were, on the edge of the building.
And strangely, you weren’t scared. There was even a sense of peace. Because it was all going to be over soon. This endless pain. It was going to be gone. You just needed to take one small step forward.
And you did. Closing your eyes, and feeling both relieved this was going to end soon, and scared of what was going to happen afterward.
It was too late to think about it. Because you took that step. And you started falling. And-
Right in your tracks.
A hand took hold of your arm, just as you were falling. You turn around and...
That, you didn’t expect.
You were ready. Everything was aligned. And then-
A hand. A strong one at that. Pulling you away back on the edge.
And then arms wrapping around you, to make sure you’re not going to resist and try to jump again.
You’re too surprised to resist. You turn your head, and...
THE Batman ?
What the fuck.
“Um. Can you let go ?”
“Can I ?”
“I’m not going to jump.”
“What the- Are you a child ?”
“I’m sorry. I cannot let you go if you do not promise.”
“What even makes you think I will keep my promise ?”
A feeling that is right. You hate people who break their promises. Maybe because too many people broke theirs to you ?
You nod. When he doesn’t make a move to let you go, you groan and say out loud :
“Yeah yeah. I promise.”
He releases you, and doesn’t take you away from the edge. Why ? You’re not sure. Maybe because he knows he can just stop you again if he has to ? You can see a grappling hook, on that belt.
Not like you were going to jump anyway. You promised. You weren’t going to. At least, not right now.
There’s an awkward silence. What is going to happen now ? You’re not sure how long this goes on, this weird staring at each other.
You look at him, he looks at you. Neither moving. Neither speaking.
Too awkward. You have to say something. And so you do :
“Um, are you just going to stand there ?”
“Until I’m sure you’re safe, yes.”
“Don’t you have people who actually wants to be saved to, you know, save ?”
“I cannot leave until I’m sure you’re safe.”
A dry chuckle escapes you. One full of sarcasm, which he clearly understands. You’re sure he’ll eventually leave. Once that bat signal turns on, he’ll leave.
Everyone leaves eventually.
And then everything will be aligned again, for you to do what you came here to do. Because what if he stopped you ? He couldn’t change what was in your heart. Nobody could. And you just wanted the pain to stop.
Death was the only hope.
Ah. Funny. “Hope”. Because what was going to happen next, revolved entirely around hope, right ?
He stayed. What else could he do ?
Early in the morning, he had a few meetings at Wayne Enterprises (he only just recently decided to fully commit to his job there). And now, there was maybe other people to help. But he couldn’t leave you.
What could he do, but stay ?
He knew that force wouldn’t work. That if he, let’s say, put you in a cell for the night so that you had no mean to kill yourself, it would make things worst. Once upon a time, to be fair, he probably would’ve done that. Put you somewhere he was sure you couldn’t harm yourself, maybe tie you up or something, and leave to go beat up criminals who needed a beating.
But that was him before. And he couldn’t leave. The bat signal wasn’t on anyway. No emergencies. Except for this one, right in front of him.
Except for you, eyes devoid of hope and looking lost.
A kind of “lost” he understood oh too well.
When he was younger, he had felt so desperate that he wanted to die. Just for the pain to stop. And if Alfred hadn’t been there, he’s pretty sure he would’ve tried to end it all at one point.
But during that time, Alfred was annoyingly (but fortunately) always there. He never let his dear “Master Bruce” out of his sight for too long, because he knew how the boy felt.
At the time, Bruce didn’t believe him. But Alfred knew. Bruce just didn’t care enough yet to ask about the majordomo’s past life, before he became the faithful Wayne family’s butler...But that was another story.
Long story short, Alfred understood. And so he made sure to be the boy’s shadow for years (and even Bruce never realized how much that was true). Up until Bruce’s despair turned into the need for vengeance, and he left to train, coming back years later with this “Batman” idea...
Although he didn’t have those thoughts anymore, Bruce knew how it felt. Knew how it was, to be overwhelmed by this sense of isolation. Like nobody understands, and you don’t want to bother them anyway.
He felt this before. When the pain inside you has so far exceeded your threshold, that your only option left is to give up, or give into it (which he did, as he turned to violence for an ounce of relief). It’s like you keep trying to swim back ashore, but isn’t getting anywhere closer, and you’re just slowly wearing out as if caught in a riptide, drifting further and further. Screaming at people on the shore, but they can’t hear you. After a while, you feel like the world and everyone in it will be better off without you.
Bruce told Alfred, once. When he was ten. He told him that he probably would feel better without him. That he was a burden and stopped him from living his life properly. Alfred, in that moment, did something he still regrets up until now, but that shook Bruce to the core.
He slapped him. He slapped him and said : “never say that again, a world without you in it, Master Bruce, would not be worth living for.”
Did the Alfred think like him, then ? Without his parents, it didn’t feel like he should go on. Only ten, too smart for his own good already, and matured too fast. It stuck with him though. This slap. And Alfred’s words.
A lot of time, he genuinely thinks it’s because he kept thinking of the man who became his father figure, that he didn’t end it all. And because he turned his grief and despair into hate, which wasn’t the solution either.
Yes. Bruce knows. He knows what it is to be at the end of the line.
So he stays. Right there. Next to you.
There’s a silence. A long one. And he just stays.
He doesn’t guilt trip you for your thoughts and behavior, he doesn’t try to argue with you about the morality (or immorality ?) of suicide. He doesn’t do what so many people did before him.
You don’t feel ashamed, somehow.
So many people belittled you, although not on purpose, for feeling the way you felt. And he doesn’t. Even as you thought this was exactly the kind of man to do that.
He doesn’t. And he’s here. He stays.
Naturally, you both sit down on that dangerous edge. You don’t think about jumping though, too taken aback by this man sitting next to you.
“Do you want to talk ? It’s ok if you don’t.”
For so long, ever since you were rejected by a few friends when you talked about it, you found yourself unable to tell anyone your true feelings. You were unsure how to speak about it. Concerned they wouldn’t understand. Fearful of being judged and shunned. Worried you’d upset them.
But here is that man, dressed as a bat, who’s pastime you knew was to beat up criminals...sitting there. Asking you if you wanted to talk to him. And telling you it was ok if you didn’t.
And you found yourself beginning to talk.
About how you were born in Gotham’s slums, and you knew nothing else. How you thought it was normal, to constantly be abused because that was the only life you knew. How you first broke down, and nobody was there to help.
You tell him about things he already knows. He’s aware how tough life in Gotham can be, and how it affects people’s mental health. Gotham had one of the highest suicide rate in the country...
He tells you you’re not weaker than some people. He tells you resilience isn’t always a quality. That everyone breaks, at some point. And that reaching for help is ok. That it’s hard, even. That it took him a long time to understand that.
And your suspicions are confirmed. He also went through what you’re going through.
And you continue. You talk. And talk. And talk. And he listens. Truly listens.
“This city took everything from me.” You say. And he answers :
That’s when the tears start. And don’t stop for a long time. You barely notice an arm around your shoulder, making you feel oddly safe.
And you cry. God. You needed that.
He doesn’t tell you your feelings are wrong. He doesn’t tell you “you don’t have good enough reasons to feel depressed, and lost, and alone, and pain”. He doesn’t tell you you have to change. He doesn’t judge you.
It’s not your fault you have those thoughts. It’s not. And by not making you feel small because you hurt (sometimes without knowing the reason why), he already helps. It’s ok. It’s ok. Your feelings are valid.
They are valid.
The sun comes up. And he’s still here.
“You’re really not going ?”
“I’m really not going.”
“Won’t people be suspicious if you’re not around today ? In your real life, I mean ?”
“I doubt that. So, I’ll stay. Just for a little longer. Okay ?”
Silence again. Up until you turn your head to look at the horizon, and answer :
All it took was someone reaching out.
All it took was finally truly saying “yes” to this help.
“I was blinded by my emotions. I couldn’t see past those hopeless feelings. Now, things are clearer to me. Suicidal thoughts aren't permanent, things do improve. You can find your motivation to live again. Please, reach for help.”
Bruce was so proud. You went such a long way, since he met you that fateful night. Things weren’t always easy. Hell no, quite the contrary.
There were times he was sure he was going to lose you, if he only closed his eyes for once second. That you were going to make that jump...
He never left though. No matter how hard things were. Because he promised himself he would never again let despair overtake him, and because you were too good a soul for him to not try everything possible to keep you away from that dark pit.
After that day and night, when he stayed with you up until you promised you would stay safe, he kept on checking on you.
Every single day. No matter how little time he had. He came by, even if for just a few minutes. And he was the first step to you recovering from your suicidal thoughts.
“Build your support network”, was one of the first advice your therapist gave you (therapist you were able to see thanks to an “anonymous benefactor”, not suspicious at all...As if you didn’t immediately guess it was him). A precious advice. Because it truly was primordial. Up until then, you realized you just weren’t around people who were good for you. The toxic environment didn’t help your thoughts, and it wasn’t normal that some people made you feel worthless and as if it was your fault you weren’t feeling well.
Surrounding yourself with positive influences and people who made you feel good about yourself was the key. And who else but him, made you feel the best ? You would’ve never thought that The Batman was so funny, and witty. You always had that image of him being super scary (which is the feeling he wanted to instill), but he wasn’t. He could even be really sweet (he did came by EVERY SINGLE DAY).
The more you invested yourself in other people, in your community, the more you realized you had to lose. Which helped you ground yourself in reality. Because yes, now, you did have things and people to lose. And it helped you stay positive and onto recovery.
Because he was around so much, it became easy for you to guess who he really was. You could see “Bruce Wayne” getting more and more invested in bettering Gotham...how could you not recognize that jawline ?
You waited for him to tell you first though. Which he did. And that was another thing : trust.
Trust in others. Recovered. Thanks to him (and to him, thanks to you).
He did tell you. One day when he wasn’t feeling well, and needed your support. This is why you work so well together. When one falls, the other one is always there to catch them.
You helped each other to identify your “triggers”, and other situations that lead to feelings of despair. The anniversary of his parents’ loss, your first mental breakdown, sounds that were too loud, drugs...You made a list. And made sure you would be careful, not getting upset at others if they triggered you. Because how could they know ? You were responsible for your triggers.
But you two ? You knew the other one’s weaknesses. You knew what could send them over the edge. So when a situation arose, you were always saving each other.
You also developed “self-care days”, or moments, if you didn’t have much time. Ate right, never skipped a meal (Alfred made sure of that), and got enough sleep (not “plenty” unfortunately...but enough). Exercised a lot too, which released the right amount of endorphins...Not like Bruce didn’t exercise before. Maybe doing it with you now, did help ?
Somewhere along the way, your relationship naturally bloomed into love. A kind of love you never felt before. A kind of love worth living for.
“Life is worth it, and I’ll prove it” he once told you, near the beginning of it all. You were skeptical, and told him “sure”, rolling your eyes. But he did.
He did prove it to you. Every single day. Even before you fell for him, and he for you. He showed you the things worth living for.
Helping others, making the suffering of people smaller, a simple smile could brighten someone’s day. As The Batman, he often encountered situations that were desperate, and he couldn’t always save everyone...
But hope never died. That’s something he showed you. Every day.
One, two, three...one hundred, two hundred, three hundred...The number of days he kept trying increased. Love slowly build itself.
A love worth living for.
And there were so much more, worth living for.
You developed new interests. Being with Bruce gave you the opportunity to volunteer a lot, and your life took a new sense of meaning and purpose when you were finally able to build foundation for others. Such as the one you created now, to help those in need who struggle with mental illnesses. And hey, when you’re doing something fulfilling, you always feel better about yourself.
Yes. You both help one another tremendously. Although you will always felt he helped you more, and he was the reason you slowly found a new taste for life. All it took, was the impulse he gave you.
His endless pain turned into endless hope. Given to you.
“I know the fear of loss because of you” you once told him, and this was a good thing, although it sounded like it wasn’t. Because being afraid of losing what you loved, or thinking of him once again losing someone he loved...
“Life is worth it, I’ll show you.”
He did. He did show you.
You couldn’t help but think there was a little “luck” factor, that you saw as destiny. Fate. You met the right person, at the right moment. Every rejection you went through, every toxic relationship, lead you there.
On that rooftop, on that night.
You met the right person, at the right moment.
You both did.
You, because you were saved (although this didn’t came with a snap of the fingers, you actually WORKED hard on yourself to finally feel a little better...The support did help).
Him, because it was right at a moment he needed to know there really was hope. And convincing you to not jump, that day, was just that.
Because look where you both were, now.
You, talking about the important issue of mental illnesses, and opening your first very own organizations to help those who need help but cannot afford it.
And him, still being The Batman, but one who achieved and found his purpose.
Both of you, becoming beacons of hope in a city that desperately needed it, and that was slowly rediscovering the sunshine.
This story is very personal and close to my heart. I poured all my feelings into it. This is a therapeutic story, to close a really bad chapter in my life. I’m doing great now so please don’t worry, but felt like I needed to write this. I hope you liked it. And a few more words :
If you feel suicidal, please call your countries’ lifeline (it does help). Or talk. To anyone. Do not stay alone. The hardest step is to reach out, and I know it’s hard, especially since there WILL be people who reject you for how you feel. My DMs are always open, if you need to talk. And unlike many, I really mean it. I went through this, and am one who luckily survived. Writing this story was like purging myself from the “experience” (my English is lacking to find the right word), and I know how it feels to be fully consumed by those thoughts. Reach out. Please. This is your sign to not give up just yet.
KISSING THEM TO SEE WHAT IT’S LIKE.
note. chewed bubblemint gum writing this nom
feat. gojo, nanami, itadori, fushiguro, inumaki x gn!reader
summary. you and your best friend decide to kiss, y'know. just to see what it’s like.
☆ — GOJO
he doesn't even say it's to see what it's like. gojo just straight out admits, yes, he wants to kiss you. badly. he'll laugh at you condescendingly like you're the one that just admitted something so embarrassing, but he's really just trying to save his ego here, ignore it. gojo turns off his infinity, and is entirely shocked to find that he's extremely nervous having you so close and in his space. not that an ounce of it shows through his smirk. gojo's lips are extremely soft when you finally kiss, and- is that lipgloss he's wearing? you don't know. not that you really care when you hear him whisper an almost silent confession into your mouth.
☆ — NANAMI
absolutely refuses to do it at first. why would you want to kiss him? would you really cross that boundary just to "see what it's like"? that's so stupidly ridiculous. you and your lips are so stupidly ridiculous and you… ah fuck. now nanami can't stop thinking about kissing you. this is all your fault! if you hadn't brought up something so strange in the first place, nanami wouldn't be gripping your hips right now, wouldn't be losing his mind like a fool in love as he brought you impossibly closer to him- it's when you pull away and offer him a breathless smile that he realises, he's always been a fool for you.
☆ — ITADORI
yuuji agrees with you instantly! there's a stupid fluttering in his chest when you're around, and it's getting to an unbearable point. he doesn't really understand it, but he does know that the fluttering calms just a little when he thinks about kissing you. yuuji will pull you towards him immediately, and no, he definitely did not chew some bubblemint gum beforehand just for you. it ends far too quickly, yuuji thinks, and he doesn't see what's so wrong about pulling you in for another taste. it may take him a minute or two, but he'll come around to finally realise he really can't stand the thought of you kissing anyone else but him.
☆ — FUSHIGURO
are you stupid? were fushiguro's exact words when you asked (ignore the red on the tips of his ears). the only reason he even agrees is because you keep asking, i mean, do you really think fushiguro would want to kiss you? it's not like he's ever traced the image of your lips in his mind, nor has he ever felt flustered when your tongue peeks out to lick the dryness off your lips! fushiguro is the one to pull away from the kiss, and from you. just give him a day or two alone in his room, and let him come to realise that maybe he's the stupid one.
☆ — INUMAKI
inumaki is so so glad you suggested it first - he'd thought about asking before, but there really was no good way to put his thoughts into a text no matter how hard he tried. now, don't take that the wrong way! it wasn't like inumaki was in love with you. no, not at all. he simply just couldn't get the thought of your lips out of his mind, so all you're really doing is helping him finally get some sleep at night! that's it. just ignore the flush of his cheeks and the shakiness of his hands, it means nothing- not until you press your lips against his, and. and!- oh. i'm fucked. inumaki thinks, for he's completely fallen for his best friend. and their pretty lips.
© SINUMAKI 2022 — do not repost, plagiarise or translate my writing. i will beat the shit out of u.
synopsis: one gradual step at a time, gojo allows himself to be drawn into your magnetism.
tags: NSFT, GN reader, lovesick!gojo, so much pining, male masturbation, friends to lovers, finger sucking (where did that come from), sexual tension
Satoru has dreams about you.
Some dreams are blissfully mundane. A world that doesn’t exist, another universe in which Gojo Satoru navigates his life without the burden of saving everyone or losing the ones he loves. A universe wherein he wakes up and is met only by your sleeping face, defined by the glow of the sunrise flooding through the gap in the curtains.
In others you are a hot, panting body beneath him. Your eyes are struggling to stay open, fluttering against the waves of pleasure, your mouth hangs agape and invites in his tongue. He fits against you, inside of you, perfectly. Amidst the desperation your hips roll against one another, your breathing synchronized, chests rising and falling with the tides. When you cum around him he presses his forehead to yours and sears the image into his mind, blindfold torn off and cast away. He lifts his body from yours only to be met with resistance, your arms locked around his neck and expression coyly pleading
“Satoru, stay with me,” you’ll murmur, and then he’ll wake up with shamefully tight boxers and damp hair stuck to his forehead.
Like now, for example.
He groans, mostly out of inconvenience and frustration. With an arm thrown over his eyes, he slides his hand down his bare stomach to slip beneath the material of his briefs. When he wraps himself around his cock he’s met with relief, hissing against the drag of his palm along the underside of his length. He can’t help but think about how much bigger his hand is compared to your own and wonder how you’d touch him.
He would gladly show you what he liked. Here, with eyes squeezed shut, he can picture you kneeling at the end of the bed as you watch him slowly fuck his hand. You want it to be good for him, so you’ll watch closely.
A drawn out exhale, a soft and breathless moan pulled from his chest, he thumbs over the head of his cock and imagines you using your mouth to touch what your hand can’t reach. His stomach clenches, head tilted back and pressing into the plush of his pillow, he cums with a strained whine into the crook of his arm.
His chest rises and falls with each laboured inhale as he catches his breath, arm falling heavily to the side and hitting his bedsheets with a thud. The smell of petrichor blows into his room with the draft and entices him, pulling his attention to the darkened window. Judging by the faint light leaking out onto the distant landscape it would soon be daybreak and you’d be starting your day.
He rolls out of bed, grimacing at his now soiled hand. If he wanted to make it on time to ‘run into you’ at the gates he would need to leave soon.
See, there are two things alone that make Satoru feel close to human, the first thing being sex. The trust and companionship it afforded even in casual encounters was something he found himself entirely addicted to.
The second thing to make him feel that way is you.
The little intimacies you shared together were a fix of his. Mundane tasks that you might not think twice about, things that you might not give any importance to had him wrapped snuggly around your finger. The way you would reach to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose like invading his space was the easiest thing in the world, how your nimble fingers would clasp around a button on his shirt or how they might graze along his throat as you straightened his collar.
You had a set routine of doing things that he found unbearably endearing and he was drawn into it like a moth to a flame — the normalcy, the stability. Every morning he would join you in your walk to the school grounds, always early like it’d kill him to miss it, and you’d long since stopped throwing him odd looks about it. He was, perhaps, a little obsessed with you.
“Are you stalking me, Satoru?” You ask with a playful glare, though he can sense how suspicious you are of him trailing after you like a lost creature again. He’d been getting more desperate as of late, desperate to be near you, and it felt like a sickness.
“Define stalking,” he replies with a cocksure grin, practically a confirmation, but then again what could you do about it? You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth to verbalise your distaste.
“Is it not enough that I see you during missions and training?”
“No,” he breathes, the words ringing true. It wasn’t, but Satoru himself didn’t know a scale he could use to measure what ‘enough’ would entail. Frankly he wanted you with him all the time. His sudden sincerity both surprises and embarrasses you, it’s apparent in the way your eyes widen before flickering toward the floor, how you stand awkwardly wringing your hands together.
“I guess if you’re with me at least someone will have their eye on you,” you mutter under your breath, avoiding the subject impressively.
“Are you worried about me?” He asks wryly, long strides carrying him in front of you and bending until you’re face to face. You straighten your back defiantly, and he finds it amusing how you try to maintain eye contact even while he has his blindfold on.
“I’m not worried. Even if something happened to you, death would send you right back because you talk too much,” you huff, attempting to move past him with a push against his chest. You’re momentarily started by the warmth radiating through the material of his shirt, your palm resting over where his heart sits. That was a common occurrence — your surprise that he lets you touch him. Even after all this time you expect to be met with a barrier and yet you reach out to do so anyway, as if he were any other person, like it slips your mind. You treat him as if he’s normal. You scold him for being reckless and cry when he’s self-sacrificing. To you he’s just Satoru.
His hand rises up to circle around your wrist, keeping your palm held against the beat of his heart. Can you feel that? He wants to ask, but doesn’t. There is a tense moment wherein neither of you speak in fear of breaking the tension, watching each other and waiting.
“We should go,” you finally say with a small voice, “we’re going to be late to supervise their training”.
No we aren’t, he wants to laugh. He could get you both there in seconds and it isn’t like the kids care to wait for your arrival before starting. Still he loosens his grip on your wrist, expecting you to step away immediately, but your hand lingers against his chest for a few seconds before you move, and he follows behind you diligently on foot with his hands pushed deeply into his pant pockets.
“Why are you always seeking me out, anyway?” You keep your eyes forward in the direction you’re walking, purposefully not meeting his gaze as you ask. The path begins to steepen the closer you both get to the school, the archway to the grounds coming into view.
“Is it really so hard to believe that I enjoy being with you?”
You glance over your shoulder and observe him intently, eyebrows furrowed into a thoughtful frown. He stares back, sight locked onto your mouth as you take your bottom lip between your teeth.
“See something you like?” he beams, arrogant and skillful in his deflection, cocking his head slightly to the right. Whatever it is you were going to say vanishes, replaced by the familiar veil of annoyance he finds so endearing. With a roll of your eyes you leave him standing listlessly in the middle of the gardens.
He curls his hands into fists and watches after you as you approach Inumaki waiting on the edge of the grounds with intent to train, recalling the tentative look in your eyes only a moment ago.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they got a restraining order against you at this rate,” Fushiguro sounds bluntly from behind him, standing beneath the stone archway with his arms folded loosely over his chest.
“Like that could stop me,” Satoru replies, laughing loudly at the aghast look painted across his young student’s expression. How anyone could think the boy was cold he didn’t know, Megumi always wore his thoughts plainly on his face for everyone to see.
“Didn’t take you for a coward,” Megumi mutters, narrowed eyes drifting to you, and Satoru turns just in time to catch you mid-laugh, head thrown back and hand to your chest. He aches.
Satoru pretends not to have heard what the other boy said. Regardless of his often immature disposition he knew it wasn’t an adult's place to discuss their personal issues with children, and talking about it wouldn’t change anything.
“Let's get to work,” he says instead.
The day ends as quickly as it begins, and he doesn’t get to see you again until the evening. Excitement blooms once he realises you’re approaching, even without the six eyes he would know your footfalls anywhere.
“Satoru?” You call to him carefully, gently, from the doorway to the meeting room he’d hidden himself away in. His name never sounded sweeter than when it came from your mouth.
“What you said this morning… what did you mean by that?”
He peers at you over the rim of his black tinted glasses, having swapped his mask for them as the afternoon progressed. You’re fidgeting in place like your body is being puppeted by your anxiety, but still you hold his gaze determinedly.
With a condescending hum and a raised brow he turns his body to face you, stretching his arm along the back of the sofa, fingers drumming rhythmically against the top of the cushions.
“Been thinking about me all day, have you?”
“Drop the act,” you sigh, exasperated, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. The dull thud of his fingertips coming to a halt.
“I care about you too, you know,” you continue delicately, eyes soft and staring back into his own.
I care about you. For some reason your wording left a bitter taste in his mouth. Something about it was understated, invalidating. He didn’t just care about you. “We can’t keep doing this stupid back and forth,” you try again, a little more desperate this time.
It’s nice having you plead for his attention for once.
“What would you have me do instead?” He finally speaks, his tone completely level and furtive.
“Just be honest with me, Satoru,” you reply, pushing yourself off from the door frame and walking towards him, cautiously seating yourself beside him. He leans his head back over the edge of the sofa, his glasses sliding slightly up the bridge of his nose as he does.
“I like it when you say my name”.
“Is that why you keep giving me reasons to?”
He answers you with a long, sideways glance. A part of him simply refused to put his feelings into words, like it would flay him to do so, but your exhausted expression leaves him scrambling to string together a sentence. The teasing banter was fun, a harmless way of placating his urges, but he doesn’t know what he’d do if you tired of him.
“I like it when you say my name because when I’m with you that’s all I am,” he relents, the hand resting heavily against the top of the cushions moving to hesitantly cup your cheek, lithe fingers slipping into your hair. Relief washes over him once you turn into the touch, a little glimmer of understanding settling in your eyes.
“You don’t need anything from me,” – he brushes his thumb across your lower lip – “infuriatingly, I need more from you”.
Your breathing hitches, lips parting only slightly with the temptation to lick them. “That’s not entirely true,” you mumble, the softness in the words shrouds him like a blanket and the implication behind them sparking heat in the pit of his stomach.
“Is that right?” the pressure of his thumb on your bottom lip slightly increases as he coaxes your mouth open for him. You do so without resistance and he feels his cock twitch against his inner thigh at your obedience.
Without preamble and entirely borne of self indulgence, he smooths the pad of his thumb over the flat of your tongue before mapping out the grooves of your bottom teeth. The soft wet sounds of your spit pooling into your cheeks ringing in his ears as he pulls his hand back to replace the digit with his middle and index finger, splitting them so they frame your tongue and widen your mouth for him.
“So beautiful,” he praises in earnest, the defiant embarrassment shining in your eyes only making the atmosphere all the more arousing.
“I don’t want you to do this with anyone but me,” he breathes, pushing his fingers further along the wall of your teeth, leaving no room for argument. You nod while holding his gaze, your resolve reflected back at him. As if to prove it to him you bring your hand up to circle his wrist and wrap your lips around his second knuckles, cheeks hallowing while you lightly suck his fingers.
Distantly he can feel someone approaching, their energy familiar. With a shuddered breath and all of his willpower he pulls away from you, his fingers coated in your saliva, followed by thin strings of spit that bow and snap the further away his hand moves. You pout.
A knock interrupts your complaint, the person behind the door not even waiting for permission before opening it and stepping into the room.
“Am I interrupting?” Nanami asks coolly, his stare settling on your dishevelled appearance and pointedly ignoring the pillow that has found its way onto Satoru’s lap.
“I came to discuss Itadori’s improvements with you but it seems you’re busy—”
“Not at all!” You choke on the lie.
“You should at the very least lock the doors before you decide to have sex on school grounds,” he firmly reprimands the two of you before taking his leave. Satoru laughs, clapping his hands together in approval, basking in your embarrassment.
“It’s not funny,” you hiss angrily, turning your cheek to him as he leans into your space. With his heart like a hummingbird in his chest he leans his weight onto you until you’re laid on your back, his arms caging you in, the laughter still present in his voice.
“You’re so cute,” he presses his nose to the underside of your jaw and smiles into the crook of your neck, “stop sulking and let me kiss you”.
A moment later you tilt your chin to meet his mouth and his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose. With a subtle breath of laughter you’re reaching to gently take them off, setting them on the floor before cupping the back of his head to kiss him.
He kisses you eagerly, tongue sliding between your parted lips to coax you into his mouth, committing every little sound you make to memory and swallowing your whimper as he sucks on your tongue.
He shifts his knees to support himself over you so he can get his hands on you. You’re warm and soft and real, he notes with eyes half lidded watching you struggle to catch your breath. He kisses you desperately again and again and again like this might be his last chance.
“Satoru,” you whine into his mouth and when he hums happily it reverberates deep in his chest like a purr. He pulls away from your lips and your hand slides down the back of his neck.
“Stay with me” you murmur. He inhales, his hand tightening on your hip. He waits to startle awake in his bed, alone, but it never comes.
He grins and rests his forehead against yours, overwhelmed with giddiness, “m’not going anywhere”.
do you have any headcanon’s for thor as a dad??
A/N: Thor x F!Reader. Fluff. Some Smut. Pregnancy.
It’s the day Thor returns from his campaign. He’d been gone for weeks - slipping into his role as king and as a peacemaker. His hands are no longer used for battle, but for alliances. His unyielding charm and kindness play well for diplomacy and discussion. He is someone you cannot say no to and also someone who people continue to underestimate in terms of his intelligence.
He is not simply a brute. He is not simple. It seems like now is the first time he has been able to emphasize all of his other remarkable attributes that aren’t only his strength and power.
It’s about his cunning and wiles and logic that attracted you to him so deeply - that ensnared you and kept you close.
You are mostly grateful that he isn’t the first to fight anymore. He no longer holds the line.
“It is quiet now, my love. Our lives can finally settle.”
You glance down at your children as they tug on your skirts. They’re vibrating with excitement - wet-mouth smiles stretching their full cheeks as they ask over and over again when papa will be home.
Well they’d certainly settled. You’d been knocked up almost immediately and it hadn't stopped. The sex. The worship. The fact that you didn’t have to save anyone or be heroes.
“Would you be happy with a dull life, Thor?”
“I’ve never wanted anything else. I could just stay in bed with you for the rest of my years - be inside you until both of us are old and ugly.”
“I’m full of lovely words, wife. Now turn over so I can use more of them.”
You didn’t think this would be your future. You didn’t think it would be children and quiet dinners and hours spent sneaking around as he took you in a closet or hallway with his hand over your mouth.
It was a game, of course. A delicious bit of role-play that rippled with the excitement of the first few years they’d been together. They’d kept their relationship a secret because you hadn’t wanted to jinx it. Everything had been too close for comfort. Too busy. Too deadly. Your connection to Thor had been the one good thing in your dangerous life.
“Does it remind you of those nights at the tower?” he rumbles against the arch of your throat, hips rolling as he hitches your thigh higher over his waist. Your back bruises underneath the sharp edge of the shelving. The storage room can barely fit the two of you, but that’s why it’s good. “When I’d drag you away from one of Stark’s parties and make you come on my cock.” He gives you another hard, perfunctory stroke and it forces a startled noise from your tongue. “Then I’d eat that sweet cunt until you’d cry.”
“He’s home,” Val interrupts your thoughts as she strides toward you. She’s balancing another one of your children on her shoulders. Your son giggles - tugging on her braids. “Naughty,” she chastises before pretending to bite his chubby ankle. He giggles harder and when Val lifts him off her and tosses him into the air, he shrieks with delight.
If she wasn’t a Valkyrie with preternatural reflexes, you would have complained.
“You saw him then?”
“Yes,” She lifts an eyebrow. “Looking quite ready to murder someone for keeping him from you and the little beasts.”
“No - it’s that annoying advisor Gudrun - wanted a full rundown of the campaign.”
“At least, Loki went with him this time. Thor does better being away from us when he has his brother.”
“True,” Val smirks before her eyes drift over your shoulder. “Guess he’s escaped Gudrun.”
You sense him before you see him. You’d know him anywhere. The way the ground thuds with his steps - the way he smells: smoke, ash trees, fog and driftwood.
The children howl - ripping themselves away from you as they run towards their father. You turn to greet him and your heart jumps into your throat. You sometimes forget how gorgeous he is. His handsomeness can often be unbearable - the same painful intensity that comes with staring straight at the white-gold sun. His hair is even longer - braided and shoulder-length. The dark scratch of his beard accentuates his lake-blue eyes.
When he sees his children rush toward him, he crouches - spreading his muscular arms. He booms with laughter as he lifts up all three children and kisses them noisily.
“Papa! Papa! Papa!”
“Did you bring us presents? Did you fight anything? Did you meet any monsters? Where’s Uncle Loki? Mama said we could stay up until you came home!”
Ifs disgustingly cute and once more you wonder how your life has shifted from beheading villains and fighting titans to enjoying every endearing gesture your children come up with (even if they can be little shits).
Thor responds to them in kind: enthusiastic, boastful answers. He matches their tone - their utter excitement.
“Of course, I brought you gifts. Why are you all so big? Have you grown without me? Were you good to your mother? Has Val taught you how to fight yet?”
He’s a stupidly good father. Protective. Gentle. Understanding. He handles temper tantrums better than you. He has all the patience that you lack. He can entertain them for hours - playing imaginary battles on his hands and knees. One time, he’d worn a full wolf pelt and pretended to be Fenrir.
He’s unafraid to teach them how to swim - to hold a wooden sword - to give them animals that should not be pets.
“Alright - alright, you little fighters. Let me go see your mother.”
It is then that Thor raises his head and actually looks at you. He drinks you in with a stare so intense it leaves you breathless. His lips twitch before his expression suddenly crumples to one of relief. It is as if every time he reunites with you after a long while it’s like he didn’t expect you to be there and waiting. It is so much more than a look. It’s full of a shared tenderness that’s been emboldened by years spent fighting and fucking and then quieting down - giving birth - sharing each other’s dreams and secrets.
I love you, he tells you all the time. Every night and morning and you hear it even when he is gone. I love you love you.
He kisses his children again soundly, ruffling their hair, before placing them back down just as Loki enters the room. He appears tired - a bit stiff and you wonder how many parties Thor forced him to join in the name of “diplomacy”.
Before their uncle can say a word, he is swarmed by the kids. The girls strangely take after him - more subdued and aloof and already showing signs that they have inherited some form of magic despite Loki and Thor not even being related by blood.
“Must be my mother then,” Thor discerns as one of the toddlers wraps her tiny fist around her father’s finger. His gaze softens as his daughter regards him with her big eyes that glint violet. “Unless - you’ve been sleeping with my brother.
“Sadly no,” you reply as you balance your other daughter on your hip. There’s a spark in her - the tang of a storm you can detect in her downy curls. She burrows her face into your neck and clings to you. “Of course, I still can. He’s always offering.”
Thor gapes at you before firmly transforming his mouth to a thin line and pinning you with a pointed glare.
“I’m going to spank you for that, woman.”
You watch as Loki tries to handle the children hanging off his leathers. His attempt at appearing irritated is an unconvincing mask. He holds them too tightly, his lips breaking into an amused smile at their adoration. “C’mon, silver-tongue,” Val interjects, giving you a very direct wink. “Let’s go show these brats what you’ve brought home.”
Thor gives Val an appreciative grin as he squeezes her shoulder when she walks past him. She’s the least subtle, but you’re still grateful for giving you both some space.
It’s thick in the air: the longing, the curtailed anxiety and grief at possibly losing him whenever he goes somewhere you cannot. He’s still Thor, King of Asgard. He is still a target due to all the battles he’s won and the creatures he’s put away.
He marches toward you, his booted feet dirtying the floor with each rushed step. His ox-blood cape billows behind him - his armor glittering midnight dark and heavy. He is an enormous man who is made more enormous by his leathers. You remember the times when you both were out fighting - when you’d kill and return to each other - panting and full of adrenaline and then you’d fuck like you’d touched death (which you had to a certain extent).
“I saw you go down. I thought - I thought you were gone.”
“Never - I’d never leave you. Now - get inside me. Make me yours.”
When he reaches you, it's like being swept up in a hurricane - the brunt of a storm. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you clean off your feet. Your palms fly to his face, his beard scratching your skin and wrists. You lower your head to kiss him fiercely. His tongue is harsh in your mouth as he makes a low, gritty noise from the back of his throat. He draws away to look at you, his eyes clear and lovely as they rove over your features - cataloging every detail to make sure that you are unchanged. The communication is silent: Are you alright? Are you okay? I did not leave you vulnerable? I left you safe because you must be safe. I cannot lose you. I cannot. I will not.
He sets you down and kisses you again - crushing your lips together in a way that vibrates through your bones. He hums - making soft, pleased murmurs against the wet slant of your mouth until he reluctantly pulls away. You then feel his palm on the slight swell of your belly. “How’s the baby?”
His hand his giant and warm - his thumb stroking you over your loose gown. “Tempermental,” you shrug. “Kicking like crazy. I think it’s a boy.”
“Could be,” he grins - his teeth white and shiny against the dark shadow of his beard. “Or another girl.”
You wind your fingers around a silky lock of blonde hair, tugging it. “We'll have a pack of Valkyries then.”
“That’s the plan, my love.” His tone is playful as he guides his touch further down. He cups you between your legs in a way that makes you clutch at his shoulders and inhale sharply. “How can I attend to my queen then?” His brows draw together, his expression thoughtful. “I need to make up for all those weeks I was unable to ease the ache, yes?”
You swallow. Even after all these years, Thor can single-handedly make you melt with that direct, husky voice. He had always been that way. Forward. Unashamed, especially when he wanted you. When he was fresh out of the ice, Rogers would constantly do a double-take at the lewdness of Thor’s words.
Something burns hot inside you - swirling in your core - the bowl of your pelvis. Your heartbeat picks up and Thor must hear it because his smile turns indulgent and a bit arrogant. There is that subtle stroke of the old Thor against the canvas of his face; the cocky warrior-prince who could screw five women a night without getting tired.
“To bed?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively as he grips your wrist to lead you down the hall and toward their chambers. “The children will be busy for the next - three days - I’d wager.”
You frown. “Why is that?”
“I bought them a distracting present.”
Your frown deepens. “What?”
“We’ll discuss it later!”
As if on cue, there’s a loud roar in the distance followed by the delighted screams of your children. Thor, at least, looks incredibly sheepish.
Thor finding out he’s becoming a dad.
*crashes in* So uh- How do you think Belphie and Satan would react when they find a lipstick mark on them after you kiss them? ><
When he finds lipstick marks on him after you kiss him.
A/N - I threw in some Mammon angst specifically for you lol <3
Belphegor, Satan x gender neutral reader | Separate headcanons
When you find Belphie sleeping on the couch, you shake him to wake him up.
“Belphie, Lucifer will be mad if you’re late for the meeting. He asked me to come get you.”
He refuses to get up without a kiss so you decide to indulge him to save both your asses. Little did you know that he will put his hands around your neck (ah what a time for flashbacks!) and pull you closer for a deeper, more passionate makeout session.
His lazy grin against your lips makes your cheeks feel warm once he lets go so you run out of the room without noticing the lipstick marks you have left behind.
Eventually, Belphie's DDD starts ringing frantically (Lucifer is really mad at the two of you) so he grabs it to switch it off (because who cares about big brothers who aren't Beel) but his reflection on the screen makes him stop. He quickly opens the camera app and finds his face smudged with lipstick. Understanding dawns on him as he smirks and falls asleep again with his DDD turned off. Ah-! He has such sweet dreams where he has you trapped in his arms while you two cuddle close. After stealing and putting on Asmo's brightest lipstick earlier, he now marks your neck and jaw properly without letting you know. He's a sneaky little shit and he's really proud when you show up for dinner without being the wiser and Lucifer glares at the two of you covered in marks - not love bites, only temporary lipstick ones. Well, he can give you love bites if you want, by the way.
In reality, he doesn't budge from his position and plans how to tease you when you return. Did you like seeing him like that so much that you purposefully didn't tell him about it? Aww~ Such a cute little human.
Let the brothers come and find the marks of your passion on him. Under no circumstances is he going to wash his face before making a pompuous show out of it.
Satan is returning to his room with some books when he sees you. Despite his impatience to read as soon as possible, he pauses in his steps and raises an eyebrow at you questioningly. His human is his priority.
“Satan, the man of the hour! I was just looking for you. Something came up so I'll be out till dinner. Please make sure you take a break in between your long reading session. I've also left a snack for you in our room.”
He looks like a kitten who's been scolded so you pull him close and kiss him on his lips. His brain goes fuzzy so he leans into you involuntarily to get a better feel of your lips. The books fall down on the ground as he lets out a yelp of surprise once you pull back.
His face feels unbearably hot when he realises that he forgot himself in the moment. How is it that he discovers a new thing about him whenever he's with you? You'll be the end of him...
Bending down to pick up his precious books, he speaks without looking at you and hence the smudged lipstick around his mouth get hidden from sight.
“Oi! At least warn me before you do it! I... I will return the favour next time.”
Being in a hurry, you smile one last time and rush out of the house whilst he stares at you longingly. He sighs. It's a good thing that he'll be reading a romance novel today...
True to your fears, he loses all sense of self as he gets engrossed in his novel. He's at a steamy part where the main lead are making out really passionately (he must read it with utmost focus so that he can recreate it later when you return. damn hanging out with levi is rubbing on him a little) when Mammon barges in. On getting a good look at Satan, the Avatar of Greed lets out a high pitched screech and grabs his face. An annoyed Satan, not very politely, says, “What the fuck?!”
“You rascal! What's with the kiss marks on your face?! Are ya cheating on [Name]?!”
Satan scrambles to the nearest mirror and after making sure that his brother is not duping him, turns to him stiffly - faint traces of a blush gracing his cheeks.
“I think [Name] has given it to me... nghhhh.”
“That's even worse!”
With that, Mammon runs out crying. How can he witness your lovemaking after losing you to his little brother? The Great Mammon can't take it!
Satan somehow plops himself down on the chair he had deserted a few moments ago before hiding his face in his hands. Oh, the things you do to his poor heart! All his confidence and subtlety is fake. Such intimate moments make him lose his composure completely. He sits there daydreaming about you till you return and feed him by force. He stays close to you all the time - the memory still fresh in his mind - but now he has regained more of his usual cool.
Rumor has it that Lucifer is still waiting for the two brothers to show up for dinner.
the murder attempt though (about which Stede is nonchalant to a concerning degree, but that's another post)
-- WHERES THE POST OP
here <3 thank you for asking :)
cw for discussion of suicidal thoughts
Tell me, if someone were to confess to you they were planning to murder you, burn your face off and steal your identity, what would be your response?
And, um. Is that still on the cards, or -
<- If it's this, you might be Stede Bonnet.
Throughout the show, whenever Stede learns his life is in danger he's surprisingly - chill about it. It happens twice in the very first episode. The first time when Buttons tells him about the mutiny and he takes it as a performance review ("What I'm hearing is, they could do with more structure."), even though mutiny definitey meand "Your crew wants to kill you". The second time is when Olu has to ask if he wants to live twice before Stede gives an answer that sort of approaches affirmative ("That's a tough question"? "I think so"???? What kind of answers are those Stede, please go to therapy).
Learning about the mutiny plot doesn't change the way he treats his crew. Ed tells him about the murder attempt, and it doesn't change Stede's feelings towards him at all. Mary tries to stab him with a skewer and it literally fixes their relationship.
And of course it's comedic but all of this is not how a normal, well-adjusted person should react, probably. It doesn't strike me as something a person who values their own life a lot would do. And Stede - doesn't. He's not actively suicidal; he's not attempting to take his own life nor is this something he thinks about. I don't even really know what to diagnose him with here, but maybe some sort of passive suicidal ideation? Because he really just seems careless. Not in a way were he's reckless, he's very conscious of his physical safety. But when someone actively tries to kill him he's prepared to just kinda let it happen, and he doesn't hold grudges about it.
Even in ep9, when he receives his death sentence, he's like "Yeah, that's fair, I've been a horrible person, I deserve this". It's so odd - he used to be haunted by Badminton's ghost but we resolved that in ep2. Yes, leaving your family in the middle of the night is a dick move, but he was really unhappy there and the death penalty seems a little extreme. There's not really anything leading up to this that would justify his immediate acceptance.
It has been there from the start, throughout the show. And the execution is where it ends.
Because as soon as things are getting serious - when he's blindfolded in front of a firing squad - he realizes something.
Oh God, I don't want to die!
The thing about being suicidal is that most people don't actually want to die. They just want a way out of a situation they find unbearable. The difference between a failed and a successful suicide attempt is whether or not the person attempting realizes this in time to save themselves.
This is an important moment for Stede, because this is when he realizes dying will not solve his problems. He has to "face the music"; but his death isn't the way to do it.
He's hurt people, but dying won't fix that. And life - even his! - is always worth living.
BNHA as yanderes (pt 2)
pt 1/pt 2
The charming Bastard:
Charms can be dangerous. And Tamaki Keigo was the perfect example of it. He was beloved by every citizen in the whole Country except you.
You just didn’t like him enough to be a fan. And that was your fault, because hawks craves something different, difficult. He’s so tired of being loved. Now he’s got someone to win over, and love as much as he wants to.
That smile of his is so irresistible. His golden eyes shine so brightly when he looks at you that you can’t stop your heart from fluttering even since he saved you from the villains.
He was your hero, Your saviour. You loved him now, didn’t you?
Didn’t you? You have to love him now, because he’s an impatient man bad definitely not used to not getting what he wants.
Now he wants you, his beloved baby bird.
“Hi, I’m Hawks, the number two hero, could I get your number please? A lady like you deserves the bestest of the best. And I’ve been known to be just that.. Be mine now.”
He’s got some… issues.
Well. He’s a literal freak, both a sadist and masochist, you could also call him a bipolar, Shigaraki is intense in many ways.
His feelings are intense, whether any emotion, hatred, anxiety, joy, love or obsession.
You are doomed, in conclusion. He’s very delusional, if you fight him, he’ll think you’re just playing with him, if you’re refusing to kiss him, he’ll just have to force ya!
If you think he’s gonna let you go, oh then you are so so wrong… he’d rather die or kill you, remember he is capable of doing absolutely anything.
You just have to play your cards right, he is easily gullible. Maybe because he’s desperate.
His issues were the foundation for his sick infatuation with you. There wasn’t a day in his pathetic life where there wasn’t endless suffering, he was lonely, desperate and insane.
But then, he found you.
Too bad for you.
“My pretty pretty darling… are you scared o’me? There’s no need to be if you’re being good to me.. but if ya wan’to be a brat and entertain me.. then I can’t give ya any guarantee… haha.. fear looks so sexy on ya!”
The obsessed Horndog:
Kirishima likes to think of two ways.
The way of loving you and the way fucking you in the most pleasurable way he can.
Kirishima saw you for the first time in his class, and boy he was long gone. He fell so hard for you at first sight, you were the prettiest human being he’d ever laid his eyes on.
Even more than his mother. You were perfect in every sense. Your gorgeous face, your sultry eyes, your perfectly sculpted nose, and his most favourite part of yours was your mouth.
Oh those pretty pink lips.
They were the gate away to becoming a sinner. And he was dying to become one. He needed a taste of you so much! Just one look from you and he was aching with unbearable desire.
And that made him snap. If you has made him feel so damn horny and lovesick, his classmates could also fall for you.
He needed you. Only him.
“Fuck, you make me so hard baby… it’s getting hard for me to resist the urge to fuck you right on this wall. Stop staring at me cus I won’t be able to stop myself if you do any longer, fuck!”
Hey can I request Eddie Munson x male reader for #45 and #56 ? <3
Prompts #45 (I think I’m in love with you) and prompt #56 (why are you avoiding me) from this prompt list.
A/n: mentions of teenage pregnancy and one mention of abortion for a random character I made up cuz Hawkins seems like that type of town.
Lately it had seemed that Eddie had been avoiding you. He never sat in the seat you saved for him at lunch; instead favouring in seating himself between the likes of Gareth and Dustin laughing and joking with them as though nothing was wrong. He stopped asking you to come over to hangout at his place and had even stopped offering to drive you back home. Eddie acted as though you didn’t exists and even when he was forced to acknowledge you, he would tuck tail and walks the other way with his hands in his pockets, going so far as to start making up excuses that he had just remembered what he was supposed to be doing.
The worst part was that he only acted this uncharacteristically when you were there. It hurt you to know that he was actively avoiding you for some unknown reason instead of choosing the more mature option to talk it out with you like the grown adults that you were; but you knew Eddie better then that to chalking it down to him being childish in the face of confrontation because you knew Eddie doesn’t exactly express his emotions as freely as others could due to the constant belligerence he faced from his peers for being who he was. The worst fear you felt during all this was the fact that Eddie might’ve caught or overheard suspicions that you might have a crush on him. It wasn’t exactly easy living life as a gay man in a narrow minded town such as Hawkins; word got out faster here then it could’ve in other towns and cities. Everyone knew everyone, so the mere thought that if someone were to have ever found out the truth that the townsfolk weren’t too appreciative of…well you honestly dread to think about what would become of them or more so you in this matter.
You didn’t wish to become the next Lily Smith, a teenager who had became pregnant and was subsequently disowned by her own family before then ran out of town for not wishing to have the child due to financial issues that came as a result of her family’s disownment of her, refrained the poor girl from being able to feed an additional mouth. Yet her name was dragged through the mud as a monster for supposedly murdering something that wasn’t even considered living. So if there was even the slightest of possibilities that Eddie knew of your feelings for him there was no telling who else might’ve came to the same conclusion; For all you knew it could be anyone, including everyone in the Hellfire club.
The closet person you had to tell such a thing to was Robin Buckley after an innocent slip of the tongue that caused you to immediately retract your statement out of sheer panic; pulling out your go to as to avoid further speculation on your sexuality. When she gave you a sympathetic smile and eyes that told you that she knew all too well of your situation before admitting to her own truth of being a lesbian; Steve Harrington was the only person she bravely told of her sexuality, originally expecting a harsh reaction and vulgar words to be thrown her way about how her existence and attraction to women were a sin as you thought she’d react to your attraction to men. Steve, unfortunately, was a rarity amongst Hawkins townsfolk. There was no real safe way of knowing there were others that would react as kindly as him, so you vigilante remained and forced to swallow your pain as you lived behind a unbearable lie just to live.
So as you sat there by yourself, contemplating your next move concerning Eddie, you hadn’t notice that Gareth had sat himself beside you on the stage of the auditorium where the majority of the Hellfire club activities were partaking. “You alright?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, drawing you out of your thoughts. You and Gareth only shared a handful of lessons together yet managed to establish a basic level friendship with the plaid wearing male; on the surface he may suffer from a case of resting bitch face but other then that he was just as intimidating as a chihuahua, though you’d never tell him this to his face as he’d put you in a headlock again like last time. “Am I weird to assume that Eddie has been acting weird lately? More specifically with me?” You asked, looking over at Gareth who looked back at you with the same suspicion.
“Now that you mention it, yeah. Eddie has been acting a little weirder then usual.” Gareth admitted as he thought back to the moments where Eddie visible grew stiff or was it flustered whenever your name was mentioned as though just merely thinking about you was enough to set Eddie off in an uncharacteristic episode. Which in of itself was odd as Gareth assumed that you and Eddie were quite good friends for the most part, sure you had your moments but those came from places of concern for one another for the others well-being. Now it just seemed that as though your name was an addictive kind of poison that Eddie wished he could stop drinking. After hearing your assumptions being confirmed, the fear began to settle in second, the fear that he somehow knew and was now putting distance between you both. Whether it was out of respect or disgust you weren’t quite sure.
“Have I done something wrong?” You asked, this time your voice a lot softer, more afraid then before. Gareth’s face softened to that of sympathy, he didn’t like it when his friends were sad, it made him feel powerless to make a difference in their mood; so he placed a arm over your shoulder, bringing you close into his side so that you were practically flushed against one another. Gareth’s cinnamon, spiced apple and citrus scent and body warmth had you melting into him like a touch starved cat. “No I don’t think you have but I think it’s be best if you confront him about it. Eddie is a stubborn prick when it comes to opening up about his issues but I’m sure you’ll knock some common sense into him.” As you were going to respond back, telling him that it was hopeless to even do that, almost as though you were trying to catch smoke, around the same time Eddie had came into the auditorium.
He stopped in his steps to take in Gareth’s arm over your shoulder, how closely pressed together you were and the relaxed yet defeated look upon your face that quickly became that of shock when you finally notice his presence as though he walked in on something he wasn’t meant to witness. “Eddie? What’re you doing here?” You asked, lifting yourself away from Gareth who watched him like a hawk. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to speak as the stinging feeling of jealously burned beneath his skin, preventing him from making coherent sense of what he was seeing; his mind was already making up something to fill in the gaps of what could’ve happened before he entered the room or what could’ve happened has he not came at all. He knew he had been avoiding you recently but he didn’t think you’d be quite to cosy up to Gareth so quickly. He didn’t want to avoid you but when he started to realise his feelings towards you were edging towards borderline romantic that’s when he had to step back and evaluate the person who stared back at him in the mirror.
You were trapped in his mind like a parasite. Eddie couldn’t get you out of his head, even in his dreams he saw himself lying in your arms as he smiled dreamily at you. He didn’t see this coming, not by a long shot; Eddie didn’t know if you were into guys, fuck he didn’t know he was into guys until you showed up in his life. The reason why he’s staying away from you is because he didn’t want to disgust you with what goes off in his mind when it pertains to you. “Eddie?” Gareth’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, “are you okay man?” Eddie’s eyes shifted between you and Gareth before he runs a hand down his face, sighing defeatedly, seeing no point in staying in the auditorium if it meant constantly hurting himself of seeing you and Gareth so close. “I uh…thought…I thought I left something here but then I remembered that I actually left it in my van and had no need to come here…,” Eddie waved his hand at you two dismissively, “go back to whatever you guys were doing. Sorry to disrupt…I guess.”
“Eddie!” You cried as he left the auditorium, looking back at Gareth who only raised his brows at you as if to say ‘what are you still doing here, go after him’ and with his silent blessing you hurriedly jumped off the stage and ran out of the room after Eddie who was already nearing the exit with his hands buried deeply within his pockets; shoulders slumped and his head hung low. It didn’t help that his long strides made you feel as though you were on a time sensitive mission as you ran after him, mind racing with every possible worst case scenario that you didn’t notice that Eddie slowly stopped walking when he heard fast footfalls coming from behind him and getting closer by the second. “Eddie please wait!” You cried, silently thanking that the building was vacant of human bodies to witness anything that was about to happen for your sake and his.
“Y/n?” He questions as he turned to look at you, having stopped walking entirely, causing you to bump into his being, almost knocking you both to the ground if Eddie hadn’t grasped your arms. You looked into his eyes and the words seem to have died in your throat as you were reminded on how handsome he was up close with his brown puppy dog eyes and the way his hair framed his perfect face and how the fluorescent lighting portrayed him as a soft angelic being. “Eddie.” You panted, trying to regain your breath as the words you’ve always wanted to say came out all at once, “why are you avoiding me? Have I done something wrong? Have I insulted you in anyway because I just don’t understand what’s happening between us.” You brought your hand up to his arms, gripping them tightly as you tried to keep your emotions at bay. “I thought we could tell each other everything…what changed?”
“I think I’m in love with you!” Eddie cried, his heart breaking at the hurt he had indirectly caused for his sudden realisation of his feelings for you. All Eddie wanted to do was protect you from all harm his feelings for you could do but he hadn’t realised that him hiding from you was only hurting you even more then he could ever imagine; he didn’t want to be away from you as long as he had because it hurt him just as much and realise how he needed you in his life to function properly as if you were mandatory for his survival which you might as well be. “What?” You voice came out as a breathy whisper as you silently willed him into saying those words you only ever heard his speak in your wildest fantasies. You craved him to say it again, no you needed him to say those words again so you could be certain that you weren’t dreaming.
“I think I’m in love with you y/n.” Eddie said again, eyes taking in your every reacting so he could prepare himself to pack his shit and move far away from you as possible and nurse his heartbreak elsewhere. “I’m so in love with you that being away from you hurts me, yet the idea of you not knowing how I felt, the idea of you being with Gareth hurts me even more. When I saw you both in there so close and cuddled together I thought I was too late, I felt my heart painfully crush within my chest as the thought of you not being with me like you are in my dreams hurts more then any of the beatings I’ve gotten from those jock fucks in the past. I realised in that moment that I needed you and that what I’ve been doing recently had only caused you as much pain and I’m truly, truly sorry.” You could barely believe what you were hearing right now. Eddie, this entire time, felt the same for you; It almost seemed too good to be true that the only possible way that you could be for certain was for Eddie to, “Kiss me.”
His eyes widened at your request, yet he wasn’t one to deny go and deny you of such as he brought one of his hands to the back of your neck and the other to the middle of your back where he brought you in closer to him all the while he leant forward almost hesitantly, “are you sure, I don’t want to pressure you in anythi-“ before he could get to finish you had already brought your lips to his by grasping the lapels of his jacket between your hands. Eddie felt himself sigh in relief as he held you tighter against him as he closed his eyes and indulged himself on the taste of your lips with the intention of savouring the kiss and every future kiss that would be certain to follow soon after.
Asra Jacks Off In Bed Next To You
Warnings: smut, angst and spoilers
Even though you can't remember your past with Asra, he- and his cock- certainly can. You're also asleep next to him while he gets off.
Asra glowers up at the ceiling, trying to block out the feeling of his cock straining against his underwear.
Sleeping with you is usually uncomfortable enough- the longing to hold you close is often unbearable- but that is when he isn't aroused.
Each time he closes his eyes, the magician is met with scenes from the past. Your teasing smile as you gaze up from between his legs. Your blissful expression as you lay beneath him. Every memory sends blood rushing to his cock- exactly why he had tried to bury them deep within. After all, your relationship had ended when the plague took you, there was no point lusting after someone who didn't feel the same way.
His eyes flit to you for a split second.
Moonlight adorns your face, your peaceful expression sending shame coursing through Asra's body. He can easily imagine your disgust, your horror, if you woke now and noticed his hard on.
Asra turns his back to your sleeping form, facing the wall.
There's nothing the magician can do; shuffling out of bed would surely wake you. No, he can't risk you seeing him in this state. He rolls onto his back, squeezing his eyes shut, attempting to sleep once again.
Yet his dick throbs incessantly, preventing Asra from any rest.
The magician can hardly remember the last time his cock had reacted in this way. Since your death, Asra could barely touch himself, his body aching for your hands running across his skin. Only you could truly satisfy him.
But with you beside him, your soft breaths sounding in the darkness, it is almost the same.
Maybe, if Asra can bury his shame long enough to finish himself off, tomorrow would be better.
Driving away this unwanted need would surely improve things- and it is clear there is only one way he can do that.
Asra's cock twitches in approval at the idea- his body is desperate for release.
The magician's mind is repulsed, however. How can he think of touching himself with you mere inches away? A mixture of arousal and shame sends his cheeks flushing deep red.
Yet Asra can't stop his hand sliding down his body- or his hand meeting his shaft, palming it through the thin fabric of his pajamas. Although hesitant and clumsy, the light rubbing against his cock is divine.
A memory forces its way into his mind- one of you on this bed with him, your lips wrapped around his cock. Involuntarily, his hips snap forward, cock rutting hard against his palm, a needy moan falling from the magician's lips at the long-awaited friction.
Asra is almost nauseated by the guilt that runs through him, sending tears to his eyes- but the gratification is irresistible. He needs to cum.
After a few moments of shame and panting, the magician slips his hand beneath his underwear.
Reluctant fingers trace his tip, gently running over the already red and swollen flesh.
Even the lightest touch is intoxicating- pleasure coursing through Asra's body. The overwhelming sensitivity serves to remind him how long it has been.
Yet Asra is keenly aware of your presence beside him, the warmth of your body in the dark.
Doing this so close to you feels wrong. It feels disgusting. But he can't stop himself.
His fingers creep lower, stroking up and down down his shaft, rubbing harder now, his length almost painfully stiff. All of the magician's restraint is being used to keep his hips still- he can't risk letting his movement wake you. But every twitch of his cock, every shock of pleasure, sends his inhibitions further away.
Biting his lip, Asra wraps his hand around his cock, stroking slowly, softly, from its base to its head, then back down. Each stroke is hypnotic, weakening his resolve as he tries not to moan. It's feeling of precum dripping from his tip, making his cock slide slickly against his fingers, that finally shatters his self control. Before he can stop himself, Asra thrusts hard into his fist, unable to fight against his body's desires.
His hips move automatically, as if he is in a trance, bucking upwards again and again, ecstasy forcing soft whimpers from the magician's lips. A sheen of precum begins to coat his length, cock sliding easily against his fingers.
Images of you riding him appear in his mind, the memory of your gaze, half-lidded and lustful arousing the magician even more. Asra loved having you on top of him, moaning blissfully as you came again and again around his length. He grips his dick harder, chasing the long absent feeling of your walls squeezing down on him.
Overcome by euphoria, the magician relinquishes control, letting his body take over to do whatever satisfies his cock. The movement of his hips is animalistic and harsh, driven by his immense need to get off. Save for wanton thoughts of you, Asra's mind is blank, conquered by the haze of pleasure his body has inflicted upon him.
The magician can feel his precum seeping into his boxers, a damp patch forming next to his tip. And he can hear how slick his cock is too, judging by the sloppy noises echoing around the room. His thrusts only get harder as his cock slickens.
Within minutes, Asra feels close to cumming, his cock unable to cope with this much pleasure after so long.
But he can't stop yet. Not when it feels so good.
Just when he feels on the edge of climax, when the pulsating of his cock reaches a crescendo, he squeezes the tip of his cock, stopping his cum from shooting out.
Once Asra is certain his orgasm has been staved off, he begins to stimulate himself again, starting by tracing teasing circles on his upper thigh. His fingers trail to his balls, massaging them lightly, relishing his own gentle touches. After a few moments of holding back, he lets his hand wrap around his length, fucking it once more. Asra can't contain his voice, soft moans filling the air.
He thrusts roughly into his hand, cock sliding through from base to tip, every inch being pleasured. It's how he wishes he could fuck you: deep and thorough, claiming you as his once again.
As he imagines you beneath him, a rustling sounds from beside him and you shift slightly. The magician's head whips around to look at you, his heart pounding hard in his chest. But he doesn't stop. In fact- deep within his lust-filled mind- Asra almost wants you to see him pleasuring himself. The risk of it- although terrifying- excites him in some depraved way, sending his hand moving faster, pumping his cock furiously.
Your name begins to fall from Asra's lips- over and over- whispered reverently, urgently. His hand is a blur as he rapidly strokes his cock, orgasm building once again.
Asra pulls the blanket up to his face, hungrily breathing in your scent. It's the same as the times he buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin, as he waited for his balls to fully drain inside you.
How he yearns to cum inside you now, feeling your insides twitch around his cock, milking every last drop of his seed.
The memory of releasing inside you is what finally brings him over the edge, moaning your name loud in pure bliss. With one hard thrust, he releases, as he imagines burying his cock deep within you, ready to paint your insides with his seed.
Rope after rope of cum shoots from Asra's pulsating cock, coating the inside of his underwear in sticky white. His hand positively drips with it, especially as he continues to stroke his dick, wringing out more of his seed. Even when the magician thinks he can cum no more, his cock twitches and his balls empty further, a few splurts of cum escaping his underwear and shooting onto his stomach. Asra had never came nearly as hard as this- at least not without you touching him.
It takes a few minutes for Asra to slow his breathing, his body's yearning finally quenched. As soon as the magician recognises what he has done, self-loathing floods him.
Asra covers his face with his clean hand, battling away tears, a surge of insurmountable shame overpowering him. Without the haze of arousal shielding his mind, the magician is crushed.
How could he face you in the morning? Undoubtedly he would have to leave you alone again, travelling to faraway lands to escape what he has done. But for now, Asra fixes his eyes on the ceiling again, his underwear a drenched mess, regret eating away at him until he finally falls asleep.
Every Side | Reid x Reader
Summary: When work cuts their reunion short, Spencer Reid tries to memorize every side of the Reader in the few hours they have together. Reid x fem!Reader, ✨soft smut (non-graphic but still 18+)✨
Author’s Note: I was listening to Vance Joy’s newest album and I heard this song that was just so Spencer I had to sit down and write this!
The summer evening air is sticky sweet and she is the only thing on his mind. After a week and a half on the road with Rossi leading trainings for local law enforcement, Spencer Reid can’t stand to be away from her another minute. When she opens her apartment door and he runs straight into her arms it’s like he’s whole again. Breathing in the smell of her perfume and burying his face in the familiar soft skin of her neck as her hands smooth over his back.
“God, I missed you,” she sighs.
“Missed you more,” he replies without missing a beat, pressing his lips to that soft skin. He peppers a trail up to her jaw before capturing her mouth in an overdue kiss.
Their fingers are twined together when she leads him over to the couch and he can’t seem to look away from her smiling face. “I’ve got a whole weekend with no plans,” he tells her. “We’re doing anything and everything you want to do.”
“Anything?” she asks, eyebrows raised. “Careful, love, you might regret that.”
“I won’t. Anything you want to do, you name it. Park picnics, fancy dinners, museums visits, road trips –”
A laugh escapes his lips, heat rising in his cheeks. “I - well, yes. I’m certainly an option.”
The ability to catch him off guard like this is just one of the many things he adores about her. In some ways their love still feels so new, so much still to be discovered and experienced. At the same time the last eight months have been a lifetime with the way she fits into a space in his heart he thinks she must have always occupied. She brings out the best in him, sees sides of him he wasn’t even sure existed. And he’s hopelessly head over heels for her.
The first thing she asks for is to have dinner together. After a week on the road a home-cooked meal sounds divine, so he sits on the counter chopping vegetables for the curry she’s making and regales her with tales of Rossi’s expensive taste in dining and hotels during their trip. They eat warm naan fresh out of the oven and she pours them both chai lattes and they’re grinning all the way through dinner as they sketch out their plans for the remarkable weekend before them. It’s blissful and silly and right - until they’re doing the dishes together and she’s flicking water at him as he tries to dodge the aim of the soapy suds and suddenly his phone rings.
Her hands freeze and his heart sinks because they both know that ringtone. Sure enough, Garcia is on the other end of the line to explain that a case has escalated while he and Rossi were away. The Bureau wants them out there as soon as possible.
“I’m sorry,” he says the moment he hangs up the phone.
She shrugs, drying her hands on the dishtowel. “I know. But there are lives to save. Where are they sending you?”
“Denver. Serial arson. We fly out at 8 AM tomorrow.” It’s unbearable already, the thought of another few days spent in unfamiliar, empty hotel rooms. Takeout dinners and police station coffee and people that aren’t her. Aren’t the one he loves, the only one he wants to see right now.
“I guess you gotta go home and pack then, huh?” It’s less of a question than a resignation, an understanding admission of defeat. Deferring her own desires to his duties so easily.
That surrender something stirs in his chest and he shakes his head. There’s only one thing he needs right now. “No.” She looks up at him, eyes wide. “No, I have a go-bag ready at the office. I might not be able to give you everything you wanted this weekend. But I can give you one thing.” Reid cups her face, pulling her to him. Those wide eyes of hers search his as he leans in to kiss her, his teeth grazing over her bottom lip. “And you can give me something to remember you by.”
Her breath catches and her hand traces up his chest. “When did you get so smooth, Doctor Reid?”
“Around the time I realized how much I liked the sound of you calling me doctor.”
They meander their way into her bedroom, giggling like teenagers as they undo buttons and remove layers, fingertips wandering every which way. When he finally gets his shirt off, she places the softest of kisses to his collarbone, her touch warm against his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay spending the night here?” she asks.
“Very. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” He sinks down onto the bed and wraps his arms around her waist. From there it’s easy to press his face to her chest. He can hear her heartbeat as he presses his mouth to the valley between her breasts. “All I want is to be with you. All I ever want is you.”
That confirmation is all she needs to join him on the mattress, straddling his hips as she tangles her hands in his hair. Pulls just a little bit, just enough to elicit a groan she catches in a kiss. The taste of tea still lingers on her lips and he wants to savor it, drink in the way she feels and the warmth of her tongue.
When she leans back to catch her breath her eyes find his, so full of longing. The way she looks at him makes him melt on the spot. It’s the way she sees him, the way she knows him, a gaze that leaves no room for misunderstanding. He can feel it, feel her, and he needs more of her. His greedy hands roam over her body, down the plane of her back before finding the curve of her ass. A soft squeeze before his touch travels across her hips and he pushes her panties down her legs. She whimpers at the brush of his fingers over her heat and god, he’s so hard already.
Being with her is like nothing he’s ever felt before. Every touch is so loud, every sensation amplified, but it’s never too much, not when it’s her. With her, every second of passion is laced with something stronger. He realized it early in their relationship - the way he felt more connected to her than he ever had with anyone else before. It’s that love that makes it all feel so much more. How she trusts him so completely, how he finds himself telling her all his secrets without any fear, how she makes him feel so safe. So loved. So enough.
“You’re sure taking your time,” she murmurs, hands clutching bedsheets.
He looks up from between her legs, tongue swiping over the wetness on his lips. “It’s a luxury I don’t have enough of,” he tells her.
He bows his head once more and she cries his name. “I miss you already. Miss you so much.” A tear slips down her cheek and he crawls up close to her to wipe it away.
“You have me now.” He kisses the corner of her eye, tasting saltwater. “I’m right here.”
It’s intimacy in every sense of the word, he thinks, that turns the heat of arousal into a forest fire. Sets all of him ablaze beneath her lips, makes every single motion feel so magnificent.
He loves her. He loves her so much he cannot fully tell her in words. Only in closeness, in contact, in the fine, tender frenzy of the flesh.
The summer night unfolds outside her window as she lays back on the bed and opens herself to him like a gift. A perfect, pretty offering. He treats her with the proper reverence such a sacred thing deserves. Devotes himself to every inch of her in an attempt to make up for lost time. While he has been blessed with an eidetic memory, Reid has come to find that no memory quite does her justice. Nevertheless he commits himself to finding and kissing every spot, every scar, every square inch of her skin. Tries to hold on to every sound she makes, each moan or mewl, each time her breath hitches and she begs for him by name. He will memorize every side of her to stave off the loneliness the road demands.
In a hotel room alone he will close his eyes and replace every monster of the criminal abyss with replays of these moments. Her eyes shining like stars as she looks up at him through her lashes, the way her lips part in a gasp, the softness of her hand on his cheek and her kisses sprinkled across his jaw. These memories will be his solace in the days to come, but he tries not to get too lost in holding on when he can simply hold her; and so he tries to be present in the now without worrying about tomorrow.
Tonight, he is all hers, and she holds him so tight as he buries himself between her thighs again and again and again.
The air is sticky and sweet as they find new ways to say I love you without words. And when they are both thoroughly spent he goes to open her window, letting the late night breeze cool the bedroom. She falls asleep quickly, which takes him by surprise until he notices the clock on her nightstand signifies that tomorrow is today now. In just a few hours the sun will rise and he will be crossing time zones once more.
Despite the early start to his day, he stays awake a little longer just to look at her. He listens to the symphony of her breathing, watches her shoulders rise and fall. Sweat still paints her face, her hair is wild on the pillowcase, and even in her sleep she smiles. And he loves every side of her. The sighing lover who licks a stripe down his belly, the laughing girl who splashes him at the kitchen sink, the patient listener of his many rambles, the knowing smirker glancing at him from behind a book, the love of his life fast asleep under the moonlight looking as peaceful as he has ever seen. Every piece of her has a place in his heart and tonight he just wants to love all of her for a little bit longer.
“I love you,” he whispers as dreamland calls to him. Hoping that somehow she’ll hear him.
His sleep is brief. An alarm on his watch is muffled by the pillow he stuffed it under. Reid rises slowly and quietly in the dim morning light. He dresses haphazardly and writes her a quick love note. In the bathroom he finds the t-shirt she sleeps in next to a bottle of her perfume. He snags the shirt and spritzes it with the fragrance, knowing she won’t mind if he borrows it for just a few days.
Something else to remember her by, to keep her close to him.
The train to Quantico is mostly empty. He holds his messenger bag tight in his arms, daydreaming of her still. He’s not quite sure when he’ll be back, but what he’s sure of is this: when he comes home, he will ask her to move in with him. Because he can’t stand the thought of being away from her for a second more than he absolutely must. Without her, his world won’t quite be whole. In a matter of months, she’s become his whole world.
Sitting on the jet, his phone buzzes with a text from her. I love you too, it reads.
He smiles. Leaning back in the seat, he puts it back into his pocket as start their journey up into the sky. The sun is high in the early morning sky, painting the world orange and gold on every side and he closes his eyes, playing back in his mind every moment with her that he’ll miss until she is in his arms again.
contains cc! dream, cc! george cc! sapnap, cc! wilbur, cc! quackity, cc! karl
summary " you two always had the tradition of wishing with pennies whenever you both see a wishing well, you wished but sadly it didn't come true.
based on the 1 by Taylor swift
⁞ you let out a quiet sigh, it was six am in the morning you were sitting at a bench celebrating a distant memory. this was too nostalgic for you, you were here every day while the sun rises and sets even.
⁞ it was your anniversary you were stuck at the weeping willow tree you watched as the wind flowed by like a distant memory.
⁞ he called it off already a few months ago but you're still here at the willow tree reminiscing about him.
⁞ you remembered why he called it off it he said you two didn't have time for each other anymore and you understand you really did
⁞ you just wished you both could've done something to fix it and save your relationship.
❥ "𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶" 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 "𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩? 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪�� 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨" 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 "𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦"
⁞ and there you are still waiting that maybe the world would turn upside down but it already happened.
⁞ you still wished your ring finger had a ring right about now.
⁞ getting up sighing looking at the scenery again thinking your gonna be here on the same day next month
⁞ while getting in your car you could've sworn you saw a familiar figure going to the same spot as you were minutes ago
◌ 𝗶 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄, 𝗶𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
⁞ you stared at your starting soon screen as you reminisce about some times he was still with you
⁞ he would've been here annoying your ass to start your stream immediately to annoy you on stream even more. and as much as you complain about it every time you certainly do miss it.
⁞ you were both each other inspiration from friends to eventually lovers it was all going so well til' the hate poured in. the first week was tolerable the support was blasting through the hate as you both continue streaming with each other
⁞ but it became unbearable you couldn't breathe from the hate you were getting by some 13 years olds thinking george was theirs only. and he noticed it he sat you down to talk and you already know what was ahead of you, both of you were hurt by the decision but it had to be done but you could've wished it went in another direction.
❥ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 "𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶" 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 " 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨" 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦
⁞ you did your intro but everyone knew something or someone was missing
⁞ he was missing his energy was indeed missing but they didn't say anything, it would cause more harm than good
⁞your stream came to an end by saying goodbyes and hoping to see them in the next stream but you just wanted to hurry up and end it
⁞ while checking your chat you could've sworn he was watching but you could only hope
◌ 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙪𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚.
⁞ pressing snooze on your alarm for the fifth time again never wanting to wake up today, it was the day you both met each other still remembering the way you bumped each other at the small coffee shop nearby
⁞ smiling as you remembered the moment you both scrambled to apologize and him asking for your number it was a moment to remember
⁞ it did have a bittersweet ending, clearing your thoughts you went to a place where you both often go to. you both broke it off due to the lack of communication and it was completely understandable you were busy with studies and he was busy at his career but still here you are regretting that decision
⁞ scanning your pockets for any pennies thinking how you both made fun of each other at that exact moment
❥ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 "𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘸𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 "𝘰𝘩 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸?" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 "𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 "𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥" 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.
⁞ you aimed again at the well hoping it would land this time and to your luck it finally did. you just wished he would be there to see it
⁞ you saw his achievements and you were really happy for him you really were you just wished you were by his side, but alas your gonna continue cheering on the sidelines
⁞ looking at the last penny you wished everything would be back again but it was silly. wishes don't work as you convince yourself all over again
⁞ walking back to your apartment your eyes might've played tricks on you as you saw a familiar figure beside the well
◌ you chuckled to yourself saying " if my wishes came true it would've been him" as you stare at the penny slowly sinking.
⁞ you casually stared at the abandoned guitar in your room, you stared at it every time and every time a memory pops up again on how you both would sing each other to sleep if one was having problem sleeping and how you both would have random jams with his friends,
⁞ pulling your laptop on opening discord clicking on his thread of messages typing "hey can we talk.." immediately deleting it as soon as you typed it, berating yourself on how much of a bad decision it would've been, giving him the peace he wants as you closed your laptop still staring at the abandoned guitar finally picking it up for the first time in five months
⁞ you guys broke it off in a spur of impulsive decisions and til' now you resist to ask him what went wrong and how you can fix it, but as much as you want to fix it, it's better to give him the space and peace he needed and wanted
⁞ re-learning the chords of your favorite song and that's when reality dawned on you, you haven't moved on by a single inch in the span of five months you still linger to feel his warmth and comfort. setting the guitar aside as you take a small walk to clear your head
❥ he kisses your forehead as you both roam the street of London glancing up at you he said: "you're even more beautiful with this scenery darling" glancing at him you said "really then? you're giving out a lot of compliments here love" smiling at you he said "you deserve it my love you look beautiful and surreal today and every day"
⁞ you never took walks around london after it, in every corner you see you think of him, the memory of him is basically everywhere
⁞ closing your eyes you imagined what would happen if you both just went for a walk and talk things thoroughly. and you always questioned yourself if it would've turned out better for the both of you
⁞ you continued to hope for something that's basically hopeless.
⁞ looking at the abandoned guitar again, finally taking it off your room to give you the peace of mind you need. til' you see a familiar blonde hair teen with someone you've lost, seeing that they're vlogging you turned away not wanting to cause any problems.
◌ 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁?
⁞ you scrolled down your twitter finally opening it after the clean breakup.
⁞ it was mutual and it was for the best, you needed time for each other but from his schedule, it can never happen so both of you made the eventful decision to split up. you didn't take it well for the past few months locking yourself in your room till the sun sets
⁞ while scrolling down you accidentally scrolled past a picture from your now ex-boyfriend, he was smiling and he was happy yet you can't say the same for you, groaning you shut your phone thinking what productive thing will you do to distract you from this feeling you felt.
⁞ finally you thought of going to a place that was very dear to you, you went there for all your hardships, as you packed your bag you noticed a hat from your closet, carefully picking it up moving your finger from the front to the sides thinking that he might've missed this one.
❥ you stared at him as he finished serenading you smiling, clear love was evident on both of your faces "hey mi amore, i'm giving you this hat" as he hands you the hat he wore earlier you looked at him "hm? why the sudden gift my love?" he looked nervous 10 seconds passes as he said "so you can maybe remember me when im busy and when you need a cool ass hat" he chuckles at the end of his sentence, laughing you thanked him in between laughs as he continues strumming the guitar.
⁞ bitterly chucking to yourself as you thought "you're not here yet the memory of you still stays" putting the hat in the bag you went on your way looking forward to it.
⁞ you finally got there and the scenery still looked beautiful, shutting your thoughts from the things you guys did and continued enjoying the sky as it turns to pink then black. you chuckled as it represented your feeling as it went from magical to dim but you could never blame anyone than the both of you. if only you two exerted a little more effort then he might be here enjoying it as well,
⁞ pressing your back on the bench unpacking the snacks you bought failing to see as the hat fell from your vision, you ate as the sun went down and the sky filled with stars, as you continue packing totally forgetting the hat that fell off as you continue to go back home.
⁞ you were about to go in your car you gave one final glance at the bench you sat on earlier. finding a familiar figure, he picked up the hat and looked at it. as you continue to stare he caught your eyes as well.
◌ you ask yourself if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?
⁞ you felt like you sat on the top of your grave as the awkward stream continued totally forgetting you planned this months before.
⁞ it was a jackbox game your dear friend quackity streamed it with your ex-boyfriend. you couldn't back out since finding a fill-in was difficult for everyone's schedule so you just sat there quietly praying that it will end soon enough.
⁞ as to your despair the whole chat clearly senses your awkward interactions with him as you both needed to communicate with each other, after a painful exchange, quackity joke and he laughed. oh how you wish you can hear it again and again.
⁞ zoning out you can only remember the times you both shared with each other till the break-up, you guys didn't have a stable connection because of work. he was busy and you were as well so it continued on till you guys can't take it anymore.
❥ you stared at him his head on your lap, another busy day has passed as the only time you guys shared with each other was the evening, smiling you told him "i know we're both extremely busy but we can always find a will and way right?" he opened his closed eyes and smiled at you "of course love, i love you so much and if this is the only time we have then ill make it work a while so when we rest we have all the time in the world" smiling you leaned to kiss his forehead and continued what you were doing.
⁞ "hey are you still there?" you heard quackity calling out to you as it broke your thoughts. clearing your throat and apologizing you met a concerned karl. it was evident on his face but he didn't want to say anything thinking it may be uncomfortable for you in a way.
⁞ as the game went on you still thought about the time this was a cheerful time when you two met. telling jokes you made sure no one can tell the sadness in your eyes nor the subtle sadness in your voice, but it was evident to him as he observed you.
⁞ as the prompt "break-ups" popped up everyone went silent as tension was clear. you joked around lifting everyone's spirits up and the mood went from there. you guys still continued laughing till your stomach hurts. you wouldn't want a situation to spoil the group's mood right?
⁞ as the stream went on you observed his voice, as for everyone he seemed cheery but knowing him you can tell he's having a hard time as you were too. you made a decision probably regretting it later as you messaged him assuring him it was fine, you were fine and he will be fine. comforting him in the way he needed and from that on his face lit up and he looked actually cheery and happy. and you wondered if the feelings are still there.
◌ you felt sorry for him as you brought the situation to life again, but it can never help the feelings you guys have kept.
note: im back! sorry for the long break it was very much needed for motivation :))
reverence / sukuna x reader.
word count: 2.9k.
notes: i’m pretty sure a few people have written for this concept already, but i’m hoping my take isn’t too duplicative! it’s a follow-up to this drabble i wrote for my 100 followers event because i haven’t stopped thinking about this scenario since…. really hope you all enjoy! especially you, anon, who put in the initial request :)
also! if this manga edit belongs to you, let me know so i can credit you!
warnings: nsfw/18+, historical au, dubcon/noncon, breeding, exhibitionism / voyeurism, ritual descriptions, crying during sex, cult / harem vibes, exophilia (this is set in sukuna’s original era, so he’s got all his arms), the standard darkness that comes with sukuna - reader’s manhandled a little bit.
It hasn’t been long since the ceremony. Two weeks total, sun up to sun down. In that time, a few women have shown signs of Sukuna’s seed taking root - an uptick in their hunger, belly markings that mirror his - and were taken to live in the main altar. You, on the other hand, see no fruit for your sacrifice, save for nerves that’re always buzzing beneath the surface.
Being chosen to bear his heir is meant to be a blessing. A duty to your village, a merit to your family. But, no one talks about the loneliness that follows. The paranoia of living under his roof, hoping to prove your worth. Or even the worry you have to bear with the likelihood of death long before any child that is conceived comes to term.
No one cares about the women lost to the King of Curses.
He’s never been disparaged out loud, but the fear is no secret, palpable in every story you’d heard as a child. To be handed to him by the very people who taught you that fear is confusing at best, devastating at worst.
Some of the girls struggle to reconcile it, withering from their disappointment. Others turn their despair into hubris —- get drunk on their offerings and talk about Sukuna like a lover to stay sane.
You do a good job of avoiding either extreme. There’s no point in agonizing over a situation you can’t control, but you won’t absolve the ones that could either. You deserved more —- deserve more. But, until more comes, you’ll keep your head down; keep quiet and do your duty.
Though it’s hard to do when you can’t shake the feeling you’re being watched.
He comes for the first time while everyone’s asleep.
The moon is high despite the short time to sunrise, and you don’t notice him past the initial glare. But, when your tired vision clears, he’s impossible to miss; glowing in a stark white kimono with pillows for a throne.
He’s never visited the boarding house before and you can’t help but think the worst. Had someone displeased him? Had they said something foolish and brought hell on all your heads? There are countless possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last; so when he’s still, even with your eyes on him, you assume he hasn’t seen you and squeeze them shut to avoid being noticed.
The silence that follows is unbearable; heady while you wait for something, anything to happen. You will your body calm the best you can, forcing steady breaths to feign sleep even as sweat pools at your nape. What’s feels like hours pass like that and you’re about to crack an eye open to peek when —-
“How long do you think that’s going to work, brat?” Your breath stutters; a wordless prayer that he isn’t talking to you. “Don’t waste my time; I already saw you looking.” You feel the weight of his eyes branding guilt all over you and open yours begrudgingly, swallowing as he comes back into view. He’s staring right at you, confirming the worst, and you feel your heart stop in your chest. “There we are —- much better.”
In the time you’ve had your eyes closed, cloud cover’s hidden most of the moon, shrouding him, and the room, in shadow. The sight is almost comforting —- making him seem more like a nightmare you haven’t woken up from than a real person in front of you. But, that comfort doesn’t last long —- he speaks again, this time a command that dumps sinister intent over you like ice water.
You’ve done that for him before, but you feel more nervous this time —- perhaps because you have no idea what to expect. You’ve never heard of Sukuna coming back after the ritual, and while you know you should obey, your body won’t move, fingers anchored in your futon.
Sukuna doesn’t appreciate the hesitation and is on you in seconds, gripping your cheeks with one hand while the other 3 cage you in. “You don’t seem to know how to listen and I don’t particularly like repeating myself, so this will be the last time. Undress.” His fingers squeeze a smidgen too tight, bones creaking in your face under the hold.
A warning, if you’ve ever seen one.
He’s just barely let go before you’re flying out of your robes, unwinding the fabric clumsily until you’re naked. Instinct guides your arms up to hide your breasts, but Sukuna’s fast, smacking them away with enough force to make them throb.
“I didn’t ask you to undress so you could hide. Present yourself to me.”
Reluctantly, you do as he asks: drop your hands to either side of you so your body’s on full display. His inspection starts at your mouth, trailing down over your breasts and the unswollen curve of your stomach with methodical focus.
He’s had many girls over the years as part of these offerings, but you’re the only one he’s thought of in the aftermath. He’d devastated cities with your cunt in mind; stolen life with his thoughts on your womb, wondering if you’d taken him well, if you were growing with his child.
Coming back to your empty tummy, naturally, is a disappointment. Something he aims to fix, though in due time. Tonight, he’s only come to look you over; to recommit your body to memory with four ravenous eyes.
Their gaze has landed now in the apex of your thighs. The hair there is thick - he remembers vividly how it felt against him - and he licks his lips at the sight. “Spread your legs — hold them.” This time, you obey instantly, body moving like clockwork, and Sukuna gives a dark grin. You’re learning.
And not just how to listen. For all your protest, you’re slick for him, pussy glistening like an oasis when your legs part. Your body knows him already and he takes pride in that — wants to train it more if he’s honest, to the point that the thought of him alone will make you gush.
Again, he must wait. If he wants any guarantee that it will take, patience will have to become a virtue. His fingers ache for more, but the only touch he awards himself is a hand at the base of your throat, pushing you back with your legs still spread. He can see you shudder beneath his palm, clenching instinctively around nothing, and nearly gives in right then. But, Sukuna is determined when he needs to be —- he won’t waste this on impulse.
“Sleep,” he orders, shocking you with the sudden turn. You’d braced yourself for more after he had you so bare, but aren’t hard-pressed to question it. Especially when the hand on your neck tenses without squeezing - a gentle reminder of his authority.
You feel that hand long into the next morning.
The next time he comes, the other girls are awake.
You’re keeping to yourself as always, busying your hand with some embroidery before bed. A full moon shines enough light into the room that some have gone without candles, but you’re not nearly skilled enough for that. A lamp beside you lights your way while a few more around the room offer the same luxury for the remaining girls.
Yours is the first one to flicker, though you don’t notice it until the rest join. Each flame goes in and out at the same time, following a rhythm that’s too unnatural to be coincidence. And you’re all so transfixed that you don’t notice the sorcerer until he stands over you, arms crossed inside his sleeves.
Immediately, the room shifts, all ten of you moving into a supplicant bow at Sukuna’s feet. He basks in the obedience but only for a moment; he’s come here for a reason.
“You,” he growls, staring right at you, “here.”
You learned your lesson the last time (your face and arms ached for days after his last visit) so though your knees knock, you listen well, moving to settle beside him. You maintain your submissive position, hands and knees folded as your forehead meets the ground between them. From the corner of your eye, you can see some girls trembling, trying to make sense of the visit. They, like you, don’t know of stories that tell of this and they show the same fear you had on the first night.
Not that your fear has necessarily gone away -- it’ll alway be unsettling for a man like him to do so much out of the ordinary. But, you’re hopeful that maybe, just maybe, he’ll surprise you again, like he had when he sent you to bed without incident.
That is, until he gives you a familiar command.
“Undress - quickly.”
You take a breath, the inhale shaky as heat builds behind your eyes. Being scrutinized by him had been bad enough -- being exposed to the others is humiliating, especially like this. Your face burns from the embarrassment, but it doesn’t stop you from listening.
You let your robe fall open around you, shivering from a wash of cool air and the unmistakable hunger in his eyes. You hear a pleased rumble from him, a sound that sends dread down your spine, and are about to fold into another bow when he clicks his tongue.
“Hands and knees, pet.”
Despite your better judgment, you look up at him, shocked and confused. That position can only mean one thing -- he’s come to claim you for the ritual. But, it’s all wrong. You haven’t soaked in the ceremonial bath, or covered yourself in his markings —- and you certainly haven’t heard of it happening in front of the other women.
But, the way he watches you confirms that it’s no misstep. Your cursed energy is faint compared to the others, but even you can feel the way his spikes; a threat as he waits with an eyebrow arched expectantly.
He doesn’t like repeating himself.
A feeling of resignation soaks you, slumps your shoulders in defeat as you shift to hand and knee. The angle bares your cunt to him in a way that somehow feels more exposed than holding yourself open had, and you dip your head to hide your growing shame.
Sukuna, on the other hand, is delighted. He’s waited for too long, biding his time until the full moon to return to you, and now, nothing will slow him. Not even the boring brats stinking the room with their arousal.
( He’ll deal with them later. )
You hear fabric rustling behind you as he sinks at your heels and brace yourself for the same roughness as the first time. He hadn’t given you much time to adjust then —- drilling you into the floor about as soon as he entered you. But, to your surprise, it isn’t his cock that breaches you first, but the sharp point of one finger. You clench up, fear spreading at that nail scraping your walls, but that only riles him. The smell of you is intoxicating - terror and latent lust all rising to the surface. It makes him spread you open with a second finger soon after the first, smirking as your hips turn away from it.
“Oi, oi,” he snarls, a free hand coming down on the curve of your ass. The strike hurts, impact resonating to the bone, and you cry out with tears already springing up. “If you’re not careful, I’ll end up really hurting you, you know—- it’s better to stay still.”
You bite down on your lip, cutting a whimper short before hiding your face in the tatami. The shift angles your hips higher, exposing you more, and suddenly, Sukuna’s forgotten all about toying with you. You’re slick already, gushing and clenching around his fingers, and he decides he’s had enough waiting to last a lifetime.
His fingers slip out to your relief only to settle at your hips. A third hand lands on the middle of your back to keep you pressed into the floor while the last steadies his cock, tip red and leaking, against your hole.
He awards you that brief touch to ready yourself, then sinks inside in one go. The stretch is immediate, punching the air out of your lungs in a strangled sound that Sukuna savors. He’d wondered if he was giving you more credit than you were due with this obsession. But, that thrust alone tells him he’d been right to fixate on you.
You fit him like a glove, hot, wet, and tight, and he’s certain he could stay inside like this forever. He has the time to enjoy it now that there’s no one else to fuck, but he’s lost his head, control right out the window when you’re twitching around him like that.
He sets an urgent pace, hand moving from the small of your back to pin you with his weight instead. The sounds your cunt makes around him are obscene; squelching, sloppy, enticing. The only thing he’s enjoying more is the way you cry out with each thrust, tears leaking from the intensity.
“What backwards men you have in your village — giving away a cunt like this instead of keeping you for themselves.” He’s speaking against your ear, the closeness overwhelming when he’s filling you so deeply. “It’s hard to believe I have to trust such idiots with my ceremonies, but I suppose I have that stupidity to thank for you, hm?” He doesn’t want an answer, but punctuates the question all the same, a sharp thrust angled up that makes you scream.
You’re sensitive all over, responding more to him than any sacrifice has before. Between you and the audience watching with eyes like saucers, Sukuna’s lust drunk, grunting as he sits up just enough to gather your arms and tug them behind you.
“Watch her,” he growls to the rest, grip tight where he has you by the wrists. The pull makes you sit up some too and you feel heat spread down your front. Your breasts are on full display for the other women, bouncing every time his hips meet yours. Some of them are mortified, looking away to preserve your dignity. But there are others whose eyes light up with a hunger they don’t even realize they have - they’re enjoying this, watching him fuck you, and you can’t tell which reaction you despise more.
Sukuna doesn’t let you dwell on it too long, anyway - his cock keeps you full, every sense working overtime to process how he’s fucking you, and it’s not long before everyone who isn’t him melts out of your purview. He can see the daze just in the way your body moves, hips less tense, head tipping back more. If he cared enough, he might consider that surrender to him beautiful.
Right now, he’s more focused on giving you much better praise.
“Look how well she takes me… you should all aspire to please me like this. Your people will thank you for it.” He reaches around to find your clit, pinching it between his fingers to drive the point home. He’s already close, days of fantasizing about this tipping him to the edge faster than usual. And while he doesn’t particularly care about you finishing too, he knows better than most how good it feels to breed a satisfied cunt.
He rolls the ball of nerves with purpose, matching the rhythm of his fingers to the drive of his hips, and you’re unravelling at breakneck speed. When your orgasm does hit, you’re too delirious to even enjoy it, babbling as you tense and squirm on his cock.
Sukuna follows not long after, filling you with a roar that makes all the other women flinch away. He stays inside you for some time, thrusting lazily to spread his cum.
When he finally pulls out, you shudder, a spent, sweaty mess beneath him. You can feel his spend oozing out of you, no doubt staining the flooring, and you whimper when you notice other eyes on the languid spill. Even Sukuna joins in, humming contently as he holds you open with a thumb.
Beautiful, he finally relents.
By now, unconsciousness sings a tempting tune. You have no energy for much else, and the thought of sleeping until you forget this is a welcome relief. But, Sukuna has other plans for you, gathering you in his arms with little regard for how limp you’ve gone. At first, you think he’s going to take you away, perhaps to the main altar to guarantee his heir. But then, he holds you open towards the others, lowering you in his lap, and you realize as his cock head nudges you that you’re far from free.
“Now then — on to the next lesson.”
❝ do i got you way too open to be open? ❞ [7:10 pm]
gaining the attention of the master diluc ragnvindr wasn't something you had actively attempted. rather, you found yourself running into him on an almost weekly basis. how many times he heard that squeal of "my apologies, master diluc!" for some reason, the honorific sounded overtly formal when you spoke it - hence why he asked you to do away with it.
getting him to trust you felt like it took ages. at first he was guarded, keeping you at an arm's length at all times. that was on a good day. yet despite his now admittedly halfhearted attempts to push you away, you managed to worm your way into his good graces, earning you some of the softest and sweetest smiles you thought you'd ever seen. when his cheeks tinged pink and you cooed over how absolutely perfect he was, you found yourself on the receiving end of his quick tongue, rebukes only serving to make you giggle more.
"i believe you are mistaken. i'm not cute."
"oh, my apologies. would you prefer dashing? handsome? which adjective do you think best suits you?" you countered. archons, the way he flustered was enough to send your heart to palpitations. all rosy and indignant and absolutely dear.
and when he huffed out your name followed by an almost whined 'please,' you were alight with laughter, much to his dismay. diluc crossed the distance between you two, forever grateful for the privacy of his office, and all but dragged you into his arms.
"one day, darling, can't i have one day without your teasing?" despite his words, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling against you.
you hummed lightly, reaching a hand up to run through his soft locks. "perhaps i do owe you that much." the words were lilting and playful, and you didn't miss how he moved into you more, arms tightening around your waist. his touch was almost unbearably warm, yet you found yourself relaxing even further into his hold.
"i missed you this morning," he began, hands lifting, trailing up and down your spine as thought mapping out every curve and plane of your body. as though he was unfamiliar with it.
"oh? just this morning?"
he breathed out the heaviest sigh against your neck, so warm and fast that it made you chortle in a fit of laughter.
"please don't make me say it," he huffed, far too indignant for such a usually well put-together gentleman. surely you would spare him from vocalizing his affections just this once?
when you hummed in acceptance and leaned against him, his lips curled up into a smile against your neck, his quiet 'thank you' the only sound in the quiet study. you basked in the comfort of his hold, saving the rest of your quick-witted responses for another day.
an: written as the first part of a series of drabbles inspired by kehlani's album, "it was good until it wasn't." it's a fantastic album, and it has sparked a lot of creativity in me. i'd also love to tag my darling cindy, @vs-redemption, for her lovely soft sunday. may our favorite husbando bring us joy! reblogs are much appreciated.
Jasper Hale (Twilight)
gif imagine + headcanon
☆ jasper getting jealous & protective would include. . .
you’re his mate so jasper will get more possessive than jealous but that doesn’t mean he never feels jealous
before you guys were dating it was stronger
he didn’t want to act controlling and tried staying away
that didn’t last long
jasper kept you glued to his side 24/7 unless he had to hunt or you were busy with family
some would say he acted out of line
even you got upset at times and tried telling him that you’re safe and don’t need him to follow you around
this hurt him a little but he also understood - respected your boundaries and started giving you space
the longer gaps of time without seeing each other outside of school did more damage than good
you didn’t notice his jealousy until someone tried asking you out for prom
jasper walked over to your locker and brushed his arm against yours, telling them that you were already taken
of course this confused you - you didnt think he would want you like that and considered that he felt how uncomfortable you were and saved you from saying a regrettable yes
jasper told you about his feelings later that night at prom
now that you’re his - he gets possessive if someone gets too touchy with you or feels too attracted to you
he isn’t the type to flip out or anything but his glares and body language say it all - you’re his mate, all his and always will be
jasper will be silent most of the time and just pulls you closer and stares at whoever is at fault
this side of him doesn’t come out because you aren’t truthful - he trusts you with everything he has & always will - but losing you is where this comes from if you really pay attention
jasper often tells you how blessed he feels to have someone like you as his forever mate and jasper sometimes feels unworthy of the love you give so willingly
you are his rock, you are kind and warm, full of love
you balance him out in many ways
and jasper is so madly in love with you that it’s almost unbearable
if he ever sees you cry, it shatters his dead heart a million times
if he hears you fighting with someone else he wants to defend you right away, the anger filling his chest quickly whenever someone insults you or offends you in any way, joke or not, he will defend you
jasper will show you how much he needs you if you allow him
he may be rough and ruin you if he got pissed enough
but 9/10 times he is gentle and just needs to feel your body against his, he needs to hold you at night and kiss you with so much passion
and even if you’re a vamp, his protective nature will stay and won’t fade or grow weak
you are his world, his mate, all that matters to him
jasper would do anything to keep you safe and in his arms
and when the whole mess of newborns happened? nope, you weren’t able to join the fight, even though you were more than capable
same with the volturi
jasper would much rather have you ‘alive’ and angry at him than ‘dead’ and loving him
however, if something really bothers you, he will do his best at breaking the habit and learn to relax when it comes to your safety
in conclusion, you’re his darlin’, so if anyone is reckless enough to play such a risky game, he will beat all of them every single time
hiiii, could i maybe request how Xiao, Scaramouche, Kazuha, and/or Tartaglia would be with an s/o who’s very small, weak, and fragile due to a genetic defect?
thank you in advance if you take this request but no pressure, i love your writing :]
sick s/o 😰 with angst!! Oh em gee pollux?? Writing normally?? If you want some crack shit just say so ‼️
📍: okok so like I don’t do certain body types but I’ll do the weak and sick type ofc !! I personally don’t think the way your body is will affect how I change the characters responses to you and I like being inclusive!! So BERE ILL DO THEM ALL IM BORED
XIAO knew it was a matter of time. In fear he might distance himself when he finds out, you keep it hidden, just saying you’re simply malnourished. He’ll ask Smiley Yanxiao, to take care of you. But in the end, he was the last to know when your time was up, as you cough out the remaining time with him at your side, as he destroyed himself from the inside out from guilt and karmic debt because unbearable after all these years. He can see the other yakshas on the other side.
SCARAMOUCHE is scared. So scared, he doesn’t want to be alone. After being discarded, when you could slip at any moment, he insults you. “Weak piece of shit,” or “fragile coward.” But in reality, the thought of you perishing at any moment has him tugging you to him, spending research on himself, trying to find a replacement body for you, a puppet vessel to try save you, even pairing up with Dottore to find any way to preserve your memory.
KAZUHA doesn’t hesitate to serenade you, back to bed. You’re like a leaf, one he holds to his lips, but fragile and disappears in an amount of time. It’s only time till winter comes. He’s always been alone, and he’s afraid. So afraid, as he whispers into your skin when he thinks you’re sleeping. “A leaf in the wind, gently escaping me so. And the last line..” He can’t do anything, so it’s best to make the most of it before winter comes.
TARTAGLIA gives you the best of the best. He tries to have you live with his family soon, get married fast, before it’s all over like a fever dream. Lullabies, soups from his hometown, as he helps you get up to cook with him, gently putting his hands over yours and guiding you. The best of doctors, and has promised on a ring he will marry you. Too bad you couldn’t keep his promise, as you wither away and succumb to illness. imagine dying lol
First of all I'm really sorry to ask you to write about this but can of please write : the Archons and the reader are like having a small banquet and Baal's servant actually took or mix the wrong ingredients so the God! Reader got poison and wake up not so long after
The reason why i said im sorry earlier bcs i just randomly found this when I was searching for genshin x reader and I found this Sagau but it didn't got saved sadly so until now I'm still searching for it sad yes that's the reason why now I'm obsessed with SAGAU genshin
aaaaa im kinda iffy on this stuff as you may or may not know but since your intentions are pure ill do it
banquet of mistakes
synopsis: the results of the deadly mistake venti, zhongli, and baal make. (the aftermath of the archons fucking up)
CW: hurt/comfort, religious themes, cult au, sagau, self awareness, yandere themes, profanity
type of reader: gn!reader, kindbutkindasalty!reader, darling!reader
“do you believe in the unknown? or does it have to be seen to believe?”
gosh how to even begin this?
how did this happen? everything was so perfect but it just had to be one of hers that messed up. the shame from the others were unbearable and not to mention… you. you were still in a sleep
it’s unbearable for her, but the constant stares and guilt keep her up at night. why did it have to be you who got poisoned? and why did it have to be one of HER servants who messed up
the servant was captured and their punishment will be chosen by you, not only that her punishment, she hopes that you can still love her, still love her like you used to.
after you woke up, she pushed you to drink water, partially because she didn’t want you to be dehydrated, and another part is that she doesn’t want to hear what come out of your mouth.
you are a kind god. yet she can’t help but worry.
“it’s okay baal. thanking you for the apologies but it was a mistake, also please let the servant go zhongli.”
it’s.. okay? it’s. okay.. it’s okay!
god she didn’t expect to hear that!
trust that now, you precautions will be much higher. there will be no chance at all for you getting sick. and also, during the recovery process, expect her to be at your care no matter what.
something was.. off. but he couldn’t sense it. nothing seemed wrong. so why was he feeling this way?
he should’ve listened to his gut. and maybe, just maybe. you wouldn’t be completely passed out from that mortal sin the servant committed.
how could baal let this happen? does she not train her servants. no zhongli knew in the beginning there should be no one but him to care for your goods.
every second that went by he wanted to rip the servant to shreds. but he knew how you would think about it. you never really enjoyed them doing anything without your permission.
he blames baal for most of it, yet he himself should’ve known and listened to himself. and he should’ve listend to himself to rip the servant to shreds anyways because he would be going punishment-free!
your kindness, he always said, was given to the wrong people.
he was one who was there when you were waking up.
he has this habit where he sorts of, bombards you with questions.
“are you alright?”
“how are you feeling?”
“do you need anything”
it takes a bit for things to go back to normal, everyone is on alert ready for it if it comes. yet through your words, things come back in to place.
i’d like to say venti is probably the most clear-headed out of the three in my opinion.
with the only one with some type of common sense in the situation, he finds himself trying to calm the archons and himself, without getting sliced by lightning or thrown a meteor at.
the “poison” was just an ingredient that you reacted negatively to.
you’d be okay. he knew that, you were strong.
he plays soft harp music while watching over you.
he’s right you know?? it really wasn’t that bad i mean to be honest, you were only out for a couple hours.
he still is quite mad at baal and the servant though.
he agrees with zhongli that they both should get harsher punishments.
but, who is he to question your word?
he tastes your food a bit first, and although getting scolded is a pain, at least he knows the foods you eat are safe.
just this once though. he will only be normal once, and if it happens again? the winds of teyvat won’t be the ones you and venti enjoy walking in.
holy cheese this was really long and i just noticed my last post was eleven days ago…
tips! (very appreciated!)
peanut || j.p. x reader
word count: 3.2k
warnings: smut, sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, age-gap (reader is of age), dad's best friend!james
a/n: i kept y'all waiting but here she is
“what do you mean you’re not coming?” you hissed into the phone. you were practically itching with the urge to throw the device, though you knew this was your only way to safety.
your dad’s voice crackled over the line—you were quite so far from civilization that your service was suffering. “i can’t make it,” he said, probably for the millionth time.
“dad,” you tried to hold in the whine, but it came out anyway, “i’m in the middle of fucking nowhere. you can’t just not make it. what if i die?”
“you’re not going to die, peanut.”
“if i’m trapped out here, how would you even know?”
his laugh was broken up, and you knew you were losing the connection. you drew your eyes to the opened hood of your car, the desperation lining your face so deep that you were glad no one was around to witness it.
and in such distraction, you were only able to catch onto his last word, a painful shock to your spine.
“what?” you shot back quickly. “what about james?” you cursed yourself for how clear the distress was.
you could hardly understand him, but you gathered enough to piece it together. “james...on his way...fix….hold tight, peanut.”
before you could so much as open your mouth, the call dropped, and you were once again stranded. you stared at the darkened screen for another few moments, waiting for some sign that this was a dream and that your dad’s best friend was not about to be your saving grace.
yet, nothing changed, and you were only left with the reality, the gravity, of this completely different predicament.
you groaned. loudly. then retreated back into your car, perhaps to get some amount of rest so you didn’t make an entire fool of yourself later. you spared another glance to the stalled engine, then shrugged, thinking an explosion was still a better alternative to being with him.
the heat was nearly unbearable, hence why your jacket had long since been discarded, and you shut your eyes the second you were seated. thankfully, the windows were half-cracked, and that was the only reason you weren’t full-on suffocating. you took steadying breaths, propped your feet up, and waited for composure to grace you. god knew you needed it.
the rap against your window was sudden, and a scream left you before you could stop it. as much as you joked about dying, you weren’t genuine about it. you hit your head against the ceiling, and you winced as you slowly opened your eyes.
a familiar face grinned back at you.
you sighed, rubbing your newest affliction, and peered up at james. he had already discarded his usual button-up—you assumed the heat was to blame—and his shoulders shone with the gathered sweat. his wife-beater billowed in the rare breeze, and you made an effort to keep your glare intact. “hello, james,” you said, curt.
he ignored your terseness. “your dad said you had some car troubles.” he propped a forearm on the door, leaning on the frame of the window. “care to tell me how you managed that one?”
you scoffed, bringing a foot up onto the seat and using the knee as a weak shield. “well, it certainly wasn’t on purpose.”
he smiled, shaking his head, but his words were a comfort. “it’s just a dead battery.”
“and i’m guessing you’re just so good that you don’t even have to look?” you asked, raising a brow.
“already did, peanut. you were fast asleep over here, and the one time sirius sent me to wake you up, i nearly lost a limb. never trying that again.”
the memory played across your lids, and you snorted, closing your eyes fully. “do you have cables?” your skin felt hot, and you prayed the temperature would be a good excuse.
“of course.” james tapped the roof as he straightened, heading back to his own truck. “sit tight, princess.”
with another roll of your eyes, you relaxed. he was nearly 20 years your senior, the man every one of your friends never failed to gush about, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see the attraction. his hair held loose waves, ones that fell into face no matter how many times he pushed them back; his movements were steady, strong, like the entire world really was at his feet; he carried an arrogance you claimed to despise, but the moment he sent a wink through your windshield, you couldn’t deny the pulse that picked up. he was perfect. and entirely off-limits.
you learned, within the next ten minutes, that james potter hums while he works. they were songs you didn’t know—ones you would definitely mock him for later—and your eyes flashed open once you realized you were imagining that deep baritone so much closer to you. perhaps the shell of your ear—perhaps lower.
you were fucked. well and truly fucked.
and james knew it. he had watched you get flustered around him countless times; seen your hands shake and your words trip over themselves and your eyes shine whenever you got nervous. it was a state he loved bringing you to, practically an indulgence, and it made him forget about all the gray area.
he would blame it on the heat, or the fatigue, or the fact that there was no one around for miles, but he sneaked more glances at you today than he ever had before. you were a pretty thing, one for him to toy with, to worship, if only you’d let him. and with your tank top sticking to your skin, your hair pulled away so the column of your neck was exposed, he couldn’t help but take one more glimpse now.
you were watching him, your lips—those damned lips—quirked up. teasing.
he gave you the signal to start the car, and you let out a deep breath. he saw it.
every god, deity, saint, and otherwise holy figure heard your gratitude as the engine came to life, the low rumble underneath you. the air conditioners blasted cold air, a welcomed presence on your slick skin, and you shamefully moaned from the sudden relief.
“thank you, thank you, thank you,” you whispered, stretching your arms and cracking your spine.
you jumped for the second time, still hitting the same spot on your head, and turned to glare at james. he was sliding into the passenger seat, facing those vents toward him.
you narrowed your eyes. “don’t you have your own car?”
his head fell back, lolling on the shoulder and facing you, a lazy grin crossing his mouth. “you were closer.”
you grumbled something incoherent, but let your gaze drift over him. he had already cleaned his hands with an old bottle of water, but the veins in his forearms were still noticeable. they crawled up and highlighted the muscles of his biceps and back, his button-up not yet replaced.
“y’know,” he drawled, “you were much nicer when i first met you. used to be a lot more appreciative.”
“mhmm.” butterflies you refused to acknowledge fluttered in your stomach. the car was suddenly much smaller.
“always giggling, that shy little smile on your face. i almost missed when you could barely talk because of me.” he chanced the innuendo.
you could feel your breathing hitch in your throat, his presence was that strong. you wanted him, and you would bet anything that he wanted you back. you watched him; the hand that rested on the center console, the other that ran through his hair. you knew you’d regret it, but you couldn’t help but draw one finger over his arm, testing the waters.
he raised a brow. “if you want something, peanut, i think you ought to ask for it.”
you dragged your nails, still barely ghosting, up. “and if you want something, i think you ought to take it.”
your teeth dug into your lip, but you shifted toward him, exhaling a near-silent, “yeah.”
within seconds, he was moving. you squeaked as you were lifted from your seat, practically hauled into his own, and sitting in his lap. his hands were on your thighs, and your waist, and they crept up to your face, holding you a few inches back. he waited.
and when you nodded, any restraint broke.
he tasted a bit like citrus and a bit like whisky and that combination seared itself across your tongue. you had thought about this, dreamed about this, too many times, and you were thanking every fucking star that you could finally know the real thing.
james’ hair was softer than you imagined, and you only knew that because your fingers were threaded through it. his kisses were both delicate and rough, and he walked a line that reeled you in further and further. his muscles were firm, tensing and relaxing as your touch moved down, trying to soak up every detail you could. you could tell he hadn’t shaved that morning, and the slight scratch of hair on your jaw had you sighing into his mouth. perfect.
you pulled back, gasping down air quickly, but you didn’t return. you dragged your hand down his chest, his stomach, lifting up that sweat-soaked shirt and undoing the belt buckle, the clink resounding in your ears. he groaned, and you steadied your hands, working at his pants until you could get his cock freed.
“fuck,” he grunted as you palmed him over his boxers, the length of him slowly hardening with your ministrations.
you smiled and leaned into the hand that held the side of your head. you pulled his waistband down, wrapping your fingers around the length of him. he was hot, heavy, and you only needed to brush your thumb over the head to have him shuddering.
james grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand to be palm-up, and his eyes flicked to yours as he slowly spit into your hand, his cock pressing into his abs. he led your arm back down, resuming your grip and placing his own on top, saliva letting you move easier.
you could feel the throbbing veins, the slight curve of him. your mouth went dry, and you hardly realized when he brought you back for another kiss, tongue unabashed as it parted your lips. and it was then, amidst the heat and the sweat and the arousal soaking your panties, that the thought hit you.
i’m giving my dad’s best friend a handjob in the car he just fixed.
he groaned again, and you were gone. you picked up the tempo, suddenly determined to make him fall apart under you, but he stopped you before you could. you searched for some semblance of poise, and didn’t notice that he had reclined the seat until he was flipping you over. james braced himself above you, slipping two fingers under the waistband of both your shorts and panties, pulling them off at once.
he chuckled. “look at that—all ready for me.” his fingertips merely grazed your folds, legs spread on either side of him, and you whimpered. he took another venture, adding more pressure, and you swore you saw white.
he circled your entrance carefully, gathering the arousal, almost as if in assessment. you bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, arching into him. the rings on his third and fourth fingers were a cool juxtaposition to your scorching skin, evoking a whine from your lips. your hips moved on their own accord, needing him to move. but he didn’t give in, merely tracing, avoiding, the places you wanted him most.
he smiled. “patience, peanut.”
you groaned. “please do not call me peanut right now.”
he leaned forward, simultaneously pushing those two digits in to the second knuckle. “and what would you prefer me to call you?” he asked, his breath just grazing the shell of your ear. “hmm? you liked being my princess? you want to be my good girl?”
you made a desperate sound, and he began to move his fingers, clearly pleased with himself. he took a steady pace, curling at the end of every thrust, gradually giving you the entire length of the digits. it had to be the shape, or the dexterity, or some innate skill that it seemed only james potter possessed, but you were once more grabbing at his hair, his shoulders, trying to drink up every sensation overwhelming you.
his thumb was on your clit, and his mouth was on your throat, and this—this overheated, beat-up car caught in the mid-july sun—was the closest thing in the world to heaven. you were sure of it.
unintelligible words were falling from you, your mind drowning in him, and you only managed to grab his wrist as your orgasm drew close. “i’m gonna—” you had to push him away from your neck, his lips stealing the air from you, “i’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.”
“that is the plan, princess.”
“no—no,” you were still struggling to catch your breath, ignoring james’ chuckle at your futile attempt. “i want you—you,” you scratched down his back, bringing him close enough that his cock pressed against your cunt, “i want you inside of me. please.”
“you sound pretty when you beg,” he said, but his voice had lowered even more, hoarse at the image below. the innocence turned pathetic, the desperation in your cries and your nails and the way that even flush against you, he wasn’t close enough. “i think i like this side of you.”
you nodded, going with whatever he was saying. his teases, his taunts were nonsensical, and you didn’t make an effort to decipher them. there was only one thing you cared about.
you jumped as he dragged the head of his cock through your folds, over and over and still—still—not what you wanted. he tapped it against your clit and licked the fucking sweat from your throat, left you on the very edge and not giving in.
somehow, your hands found his head, lifting him away from his path to your tits and forcing his forehead against yours. you looked up at him, his eyes dark and enticing, and murmured, “if you don’t fuck me right now, i’m going to kill you.”
he grinned, teeth flashing, but finally aligned himself. and you nearly cried as he filled you up, inch by inch, until you were incoherent, spine bowed off the seat and legs wrapping around his waist. you pushed your heels into the small of his back, urging him to move, and the foreign stretch only added to the pleasure.
“i swear i was fucking made for you,” he grunted, pulling back to thrust back in, your hands tugging on his hair. hard. “you feel perfect, princess.”
and you believed him, for that curve—the one that had you entranced earlier—scraped the one spot that never failed to make you see stars. they exploded behind your closed eyelids, cosmos that made you feel heavy and light at the same exact time. you were lost in him, shoved into new circumstances where buckles weren’t digging into your hip and old leather was chafing the backs of your thighs; you only knew him and his body and the questions of how something so wrong could feel so right.
“james,” you sighed, his lips finding yours and swallowing the wanton sound. he moved faster at your behest, rolling in time with you, bringing you hurtling toward your climax.
“you’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he praised, giving kisses to your chin, your cheek, your forehead. “let go for me.”
your muscles went taut, then loosened, as the orgasm washed over you, your thighs tightening around him. his thumb fell to your clit, rubbing the swollen knot, and wave after wave left you crumbling underneath him. trembling, you nearly drew blood from his shoulders, senses weakened until you only knew him. him, and his core, and the sweat on his temple, the crimson under your fingertips, the taste of his oxygen. you knew him in every way, wrapped around you and thrusting into you and stalling, hips stuttering.
you were squeezing him, breathless, and he pulled out, unable to last any longer. he pumped his cock with his hand, and you had half a mind to push yourself up and take over with your own. his head bumped against the ceiling as it fell back, and you giggled, still recovering from your own aftershocks.
the lilt made his hips twitch, and he cursed as you bent down, closing your lips over him and sucking, still covering the rest with your hand, and when his fingers threaded through your hair, when they tried to withdraw, you ignored them, only increasing your fervor.
he came with another swear, followed by your name, and while he had previously tried to pull you off, he gave up entirely now. you focused on your breathing, daring to look up at him as you took in everything he had to offer, smiling as you pulled away and swallowed with an audible gulp.
you laid back down on the seat, and james shakily ran his thumb over your bottom lip, gathering the drops of cum. and you took that digit into his mouth, swirling the pad with your tongue and letting it go with a resounding pop.
james’ chest heaved, the purest signs of shock and satisfaction on his face. “fuck,” he said for probably the tenth time. “where did you—fuck.”
you grinned, letting him sweep you into another kiss, softer but still his own—indescribable. the gray area had long since disappeared, uncared for, and he swiftly pulled his trousers back up, tucking himself away, and helping you do the same.
his hair was a mess, his lips were swollen, his eyes were alive. he gave a different sort of groan as he reopened the door, unsteadily sliding out and onto the road. his smile was still lazy, playful, and you silently thanked him for that bit of normalcy.
“you good, peanut?” he asked as you sat up.
you dipped your chin, trying not to think of what just happened—and even more desperate not to think of how good it was. “yeah. yeah, i’m good.”
“are you sure? because i don’t want you driving if—”
“i’m good, james,” you said, sharper than you meant it. you gave an apologetic look. “i promise i’m good.”
he gave you another assessing rake with his eyes, making sure you were intact and able to drive. “you call me if you need anything, yeah?”
you nodded, agreeing.
and then, he leaned down and kissed your forehead. he paused there for a breath, then straightened. “if it makes it feel any better,” he closed the door, winking at you through the window, “you’re definitely the best i’ve ever had.”
snorting, you flipped him off, then lifted yourself over into the driver’s seat. “dork.”
james backed away, though not without another wink, and glanced over your car, double-checking the engine and lowering the hood. he was wrinkled and rumpled and you could just discern the tremor in his legs. he swung himself into his own car, giving you a mock salute and a mouthed, “don’t tell your dad.”
you shook your head, watching as he began driving, turning around and running away as if nothing happened. you sighed to yourself, only one thought resurfacing.
you were fucked.
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