#AN ASSHOLE DECIDED SHE WAS PRETTY ENOUGH TO FUCK and nobody ever cares that she was just a child and her child helen was just a child when
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I saw your post where you’re looking for requests, and I have an idea… What about an angst fic where Rhea is always busy/forgets the reader’s birthday. They’ve been together for a few years and maybe this time the reader decides enough is enough and is contemplating leaving her/temporarily breaks up with her? I’m a sucker for a badass woman having to grovel/redeem herself to her girlfriend, no clue why. But a happy ending, pretty please? Sorry if this is too specific — please, feel free to change any details you want! It’s just an idea I’ve had running around in my head that I’ll probably never get around to writing myself. -🦢
An ‘Unforgettable’ Birthday
Rhea Ripley x Reader (angst)
CW: angst, Rhea being an asshole (redeems herself ofc)
You and Rhea had been together for almost 3 years now and since the start she’s shown you nothing but love and affection, always put you first and cared for you like nobody else did. But as of recent her job and other things in her life seemed to being steering her attention away from you. You were fine and understanding with it at first, but as time went on she became snarky and irritable towards you. Nothing was the same as it used to be and it was a hard pill for you to swallow.
It was the night before your birthday, you and Rhea were laying in bed. She was on her phone, almost completely ignoring your existence. You knew how things were between you two right now but you thought she’d at least bring knowledge to the fact it was your birthday the next morning.
“Rhea, Are you even listening to me?” You spoke up as she smirked at something on her phone.
“What is it y/n?” She responded with a rude tone in her voice. “Can’t you see I’m busy right now? Give me a break.”
Rhea rolled over with her back facing you, continuing what ever was so important on her phone.
“You know what, fine.” You said, turning off the light beside your bed. “Forget it.”
It was the next morning, your eyes opened and you turned to see Rhea wasn’t in bed anymore. A bit of hope surged through your body, hoping that she was doing something to surprise you. When you walked to the kitchen and saw that she was getting ready to go somewhere, you spoke up.
“Where are you going?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
“I’m going to Damian’s, I won’t be home tonight.” She responded, like last night was on her phone, ignoring you. “So just feed the pets and make yourself useful.”
An anger you have never felt before overtook any other emotion you could have felt in this moment, the 3 years you spent surprising her each birthday she had. Taking hours out of your day to make the day special for her. She used to do the same for you, but something had changed. The rage you felt boiled in your stomach and traveled up your body until it came spilling out of your mouth.
“You’re kidding right?” You laughed in a sarcastic manner. “Like you’re actually fucking kidding?” She looked at you, acting like this was completely out of character. Something wasn’t right.
“Y/n why are you acting like this?” Her voice quiet.
“Why am I acting like this? No why are YOU acting like this?” You took a step closer to her. “You used to make me feel loved and wanted and now you just discard me like shit under your shoe and I’m just supposed to take it?”
“Y/n please just wait a minu-”
“Today was supposed to be my special day, everything I’ve done for you over the years and this is what I get? Discarded, uncared for and my birthday completely forgotten.”
The anger on your face was completely undeniable, something hit Rhea like a ton of bricks as you told her how you felt. You could tell.
“Fuck this and fuck you too Rhea.” You grabbed your coat and car keys, getting ready to walk out that door and never turn back to this. “I’m over you and the shit you’ve been putting me through.”
“No wait please!” She grabbed your wrist with a tight grip and refused to let go. “I’m sorry I genuinely really am sorry, I don’t know why I’ve been doing this.” She told you, swarms of regret flooding her mind.
“You have no reason to treat me this way Rhea, now let me go.” You said trying to fight the grip she had on your wrist.
“please, I know I don’t deserve a second chance with the way I’ve been treating you but I promise you I’ll do absolutely everything I can to make this right.” The look she had told you she was dead serious on trying to make this right. She didn’t cry, she didn’t try to play a victim. She knew she was in the wrong.
You thought for a minute, you loved Rhea. You loved the way she made you feel, every moment you had spent together throughout the last 3 years couldn’t be let go because of this. You didn’t want to let it go.
“Rhea-”
“I know I fucked up, I really fucked up. But I promise you from the bottom of my heart to make this right and fix what I’ve ruined.” She let go of your wrist, letting you make the choice to leave or to stay.
You put down your coat and your keys, staring at the woman you loved unconditionally for the past 3 years of your life. She wrapped her arms around your waist, her face buried in your neck. You closed your eyes as you reluctantly hugged back, but relaxed as the feeling you missed too much came back to you.
“I’m sorry y/n, truly.” She kissed the top of your head as she held you close. “I think I owe you a day out.”
You giggled at her. “Where did you have in mind?”
“Wherever you want love, wherever you want.”
Tysm for the request and I’m so sorry it took me ages to answer it. I’ll be more active now as my job as given me a couple days off!
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♡ ARABELLA ♡
*repost !*
masterlist ♡
playlist!
☁️ angst/fluff ☁️ - heeseung x f!reader oneshot -
💗⚠️ warnings - (swearing,violence,heeseung's stepdad being an asshole,divorce,mentions of fighting,eating,concert,big crowd,heeseung and reader are parents,kissing,cuddling,crying,a lot of fluff, singing, dancing in a big crowd, fear,discomfort) - 💗⚠️
🌸 please let me know if I missed anything ! 🌸
!! english is NOT my first language so please be nice ♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ !!
✨☁️ 1230 words ☁️✨
...
You and Heeseung have been in a Relationship for a really long time now,and you both couldn't be happier. The Moment your eyes met for the very first time,you both immediately knew that you were meant to be together. And you were right. You two are a match made in heaven. That's for sure. You both love going to concerts , listening to music, making music , and you're both really fucking loud. That might be annoying to other people around you sometimes but you really couldn't care less.
Nobody could ever stop you from screaming Lyrics during a car ride,or having random Karaoke Sessions together at your shared Apartment. Heeseung is your first love...and you're more than sure that he's also gonna be your last one. He's your Soulmate. Heeseung's Life wasn't always that beautiful. His Parents would fight a lot when he was little, which eventually made them divorce. He lived alone with his Mom for years. When he was old enough, he started to sneak out a lot to go to random parties with his friends, or even concerts.
After a while his Mom found a new Boyfriend. And he didn't treat Heeseung good at all. He said things like ,,You're just like your fucking Dad...such an Idiot" ... or ,,I hope you're finally gonna leave soon because i really don't wanna see you anymore" . He sometimes even slapped him,which made Heeseung cry a lot sometimes. His Mom didn't know anything about her Boyfriend's behaviour towards Heeseung. And Heeseung never had the courage to tell her. It would break her heart. He was also very scared that her Boyfriend would do something to her. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to leave. He didn't feel comfortable at home anymore. So he decided to move out. And after he moved out, he told his mom everything. She immediately broke up with that Man,which Heeseung was pretty happy about. And one Thing was for sure. If he's gonna have kids in the future,he would do anything to protect them.
And when Heeseung saw you at that one Concert he went to for the first time, he knew that he wants to experience everything with you. You spent the whole night after the concert together. You sat down in the Corner of a convenience store, and talked to each other as if you've known each other for years. You both got some late night snacks and just enjoyed each other's presence. You've never felt so comfortable around anyone before. You both exchanged Phone Numbers,and after that one Night you spent together in some random 24h convenience store you never stopped talking. Heeseung called you everyday ,you went to some small dates every once in a while and after some months of hanging out , you started dating and eventually moved together.
And there you are, 8 Years later with your beautiful 5 Year old Daughter Arabella . She is just as beautiful as your soon to be Husband . And the Scene in front of you made you melt. She was currently taking a Bath with Heeseung, singing and laughing with him. You were just leaning against the Doorframe watching them with so much love in your eyes, as your daughter asked a question which immediately made you smile at Heeseung. ,,Daddy ? How did you meet Mommy?" The little girl asked. Heeseung looked up and smiled at you as he began to speak. ,,Well you know...Mommy and I both love going to concerts right ? And one day I went to a concert of a Band called The Artic Monkeys with my Friend Group. And guess what...they played a Song called Arabella ! And that's when I saw your beautiful Mom for the first time. That's also why we named you after that Song. She was dancing and sometimes she looked a bit funny but she was so cute. And then she turned around and our eyes immediately met. I remember her smiling at me before walking towards me to pull me into the crowd. And then we danced together. I don't know how she got me to dance but she did. And I also loved how colorful she looked. Almost everyone was dressed in black and she was wearing the most colorful flower dress i've ever seen. And she never let go of my hand... not even during When The Sun Goes Down. And we spent the whole Night together after the concert. And after that one Day we both fell in Love...and we never left each other's Side since that day. So yeah that's how I met your Mommy my Love" Heeseung explained.
Arabella giggled. ,, I wanna go to a concert !" She said happily before literally jumping into Heeseung's Arms. In that Moment you didn't even notice your Tears rolling down your Cheeks. One Thing you love about Heeseung is the way he talks about you. It makes you feel so lucky to have him. And he knows that. But as soon as Heeseung laid his eyes on you again,he looked worried. ,,Angel ? Are you okay ?" Heeseung asked as you slowly started walking towards him and your daughter before carefully sitting down next to the Bathtub. Even Arabella looked at you with her big brown eyes now. You gently smiled at her. ,,I just realized how lucky I am to have you both. I love you so much" You said. Heeseung smiled before gently stroking your cheek with his wet Hand and pulling you in for a soft Kiss on your Lips. And right after that you saw your little daughter covering her Eyes,which made You and Heeseung laugh pretty hard. You gently took Arabella's Hands off her Eyes to give her a quick Forehead Kiss. She smiled at your little gesture before she puckered her Lips to give you a tiny Kiss back...and of course she did the same Thing to Heeseung , which made him giggle.
A few Minutes later they finally both got out of the Bathtub to get ready for Bed. Before you went to sleep,you decided to watch Arabella's favorite Movie. It's Frozen. And the three of you started singing along to every single Song. It was such a beautiful Moment as a Family. And since Arabella was allowed to sleep in your Bed tonight,she fell asleep faster than expected. Well you can't even judge her for that...she fell asleep in Heeseung's Arms. You felt so happy watching your two favorite people right next to you as you carefully caressed your Daughter's Hair while she was already sleeping. Heeseung smiled at you. ,,I wish I could explain how much this means to me. I love you so much" Heeseung said with the most beautiful Smile on his Face.
Before he could say anything else, you softly kissed him. The Kiss was deep,but still very soft since you had to be careful. ,,I love you" You said right after you broke the Kiss. Heeseung chuckled. ,,Let's go to Sleep mh?" He said as he still softly caressed your Face. You nodded before quickly pecking his Lips for the last Time. And a few Minutes later you both fell asleep hugging your daughter. You had no Idea how you deserved this,but there's one thing you knew. You were gonna stay with Heeseung forever.
#enhypen fluff#enhypen#enha#enhypen heeseung#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#drabbles#angst#fluff#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#lee heeseung fluff#lee heeseung x you#lee heeseung#heeseung#enhypen lee heeseung#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagine#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#kpop imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen headcanons#enhypen oneshot#heeseung oneshot#artic monkeys
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Boyfriend
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: swearing, fighting, alcohol consumption, a brief mention of cults, Christian Hughes (derogatory)
Summary: Turns out things can escalate pretty quickly when it’s just you, your best friend’s asshole boyfriend and a party that you really, really didn’t want to attend.
A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve noticed that I keep subtly dunking on Christian in my fics, so I decided to change things up for once. Time to dunk on him full-force. Hope you enjoy!
“Look, I mean no disrespect and all that,” you sink deeper into the couch. “I just don’t trust these people. End of.”
Dani, who’s sitting right next to you, tilts her head. There’s no judgment in her eyes, just a mischievous sparkle that enables you to continue.
“What, not even Pelle?”
“Especially Pelle, Dani. Nobody’s that nice.”
“Pelle’s that nice.”
“Cult leaders are that nice!” you see the surprised look she gives you and quickly catch yourself. “Well, maybe not cult leaders… I don’t know, I’m getting vibes off of him, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Ri-i-ight. And Mark is…”
“Mark.”
“Yeah, fair enough. What about Josh, though?”
“Josh…” you rub your chin, mulling it over. “Alright, you’ve got me, Josh is okay. But why does he hang out with the rest of them, then? Something’s not right.”
“Maybe you just don’t like anybody.”
“I like you.”
Dani looks away with a smile while you pretend to be extremely interested in the carpet. She’s your best friend, you remind yourself, and she’s taken. Don’t do stupid shit.
“Why are you the one convincing me to go anyway? I thought you hated parties.”
Dani shrugs. There’s a deep sadness in her eyes, a sadness which breaks your heart.
“Well, Christian’s excited. I know you don’t like him very much, but…”
Well… That’s one way to put it. To be more specific, you hate Christian’s guts and the feeling, from what you could gather, is quite mutual. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying things you’ll regret later, though. For Dani’s sake, of course – not his, never his. You’d gladly keep your opinions to yourself if it meant her happiness.
Happiness, that is.
“Oh, Christian’s awesome.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“What gives?” you laugh as Dani taps your arm playfully, pretending to punch you. “Okay, seriously though: if you guys love each other, that’s all that matters. Who cares what I think, really?”
“Yeah, you’re right…” she mumbles. She then realizes what she’s just said and blushes. “Wait, I-I didn’t mean it like that. I care what you think, I just-”
“I know! I’m just joking around, relax,” you brush her shoulder with yours, smiling. “No hard feelings, I promise.”
“Oh, okay… Okay, great.”
For a brief moment, Dani looks down, pink still dusting her cheeks. That look on her face, that sweet smile on her lips make you speak before you can talk yourself out of the idea.
“Alright, you know what, I’m in. Let’s go together. If you’ll want to escape, just blink twice or something.”
“Thank you!” Dani throws her hand around you. “You’re the best, you know?”
“I’m trying,” your words are quiet as you hug her back, feeling the subtle scent of her shampoo.
This might be fun, right?
***
Well, who could’ve guessed. This party fucking sucks.
You stare at the kitchen floor, swirling what’s left of your drink in a red plastic cup. Dani’s catching up with some of her other friends while you’re stuck in the sad and inevitable “I should’ve stayed home” phase of any gathering you’ve ever attended.
You can’t blame her, though. You know she would’ve stayed by your side the whole evening if you asked her to, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t, too; she deserves to relax and enjoy herself. Can’t expect her to cater to your every need.
After some quiet contemplation you finally decide that enough is enough. You’ll check on Dani to see if she wants to leave, make up some excuse for the host and then dip. No, first you’ll need to call an Uber – you’re leaving either way, so better to take care of that in advance. Or maybe you should first-
“Y/N.”
You look up, only to be met with none other than Christian Hughes himself lingering in the doorway. The whole evening – just like any other evening, you suspect - he seemed like he desperately wanted to be somewhere else. You’ve never known if it was a result of your presence or his general attitude about life. Honestly, you couldn’t care less either way.
Right now, however, Christians’s not bored. Right now, he wears some kind of a strange blank expression you’ve never seen before.
Oh, to hell with that. He can’t expect people to walk on eggshells and guess his every mood.
“Christian,” you nod, pushing yourself away from the counter. “I’d love to chat, but-”
Before you can finish, Christian blocks the exit, standing right between you and the door. There’s some dumb defiance in his eyes, like’s about to cause trouble and is well-aware of that.
Except you’re not in the mood. You’re tired, you’re irritated and you’re a bit drunk – just enough to lose some of your inhibitions. The only thing you can offer him right now is annoyance.
“Oh, come on.”
“Why are you like this?”
You stare at Christian for a moment, wondering if he’s worth the fight he’s so desperate to start for some reason. You know in your mind that he isn’t. The hardest part is to convince yourself of that.
“Like what?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Look, whatever problem you have with me, it’s not-”
You sigh, exasperated.
“I have no problem with you. Now, could you please-”
“I’m not going anywhere until we sort this out.”
“Dude.”
“It’s because of Dani, isn’t it?”
You feel a wave of all-consuming rage rising deep in your chest. As if every ounce of your suppressed anger, years worth of it, resurfaced to escape your body and strike Christian right in his stupid head. But just a moment later, you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to be calm and collected.
After all, you need a clear head to really kick his ass.
“M-m-m...” you look away and bite your lower lip. “Speaking of Dani, what was she talking about in the living room, do you remember?”
This catches Christian off-guard. He blinks at you - you can almost hear the gears turning in his head.
“Wh… No?”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit weird? I mean, it happened, like, ten minutes ago.”
“Why does it matter? I’m not-”
“It does matter, Christian, because Dani finally got done with the shittier part of her thesis. Now she’s doing the stuff she actually loves.”
“She-”
“So she was excited and wanted to share with you. You know, because she loves you? And you were too busy being vaguely annoyed, or whatever the fuck, I don’t even know. But hey, at least your buddies must think you’re really cool, huh?”
“I… You’re fucking crazy.”
“I'm fucking cra- Okay, you know what, I'm not even entertaining that. You know I’m right, so you say this shit to feel better about yourself. Cause God forbid you’re wrong for once, right?”
It seems like you’ve hit a nerve. Christian huffs through his nose; his face flushes as you bite back a smirk. You’re past holding back, past feeling bad at all. He started it, and you sure as hell will finish it.
“You know nothing about our relationship.”
“Well, you know nothing about your girlfriend! It’s shocking, really, gets me every time. She always tries to talk things through with you, tries to include you in everything, buys you these … What are they called, these fucking cookies you like every time she goes to the grocery store. Every time! Simply because she cares. So tell me, does she always get that face on your face in response? That’s something I don’t know.”
Shit, what are you even saying? ‘Face on your face’?
“What does it have to do with-”
“Jesus Christ… Okay, third time’s the charm. You treat my best friend like shit. I don’t know why. I honestly don’t care why either. So yeah, I don’t like you, I don’t respect you and the sooner you leave her life the better.”
“Leave? Please. Like anyone would treat her better. You don’t know how much I-”
“Exactly, anyone would treat her better! I would treat her better!” you shake your drink for emphasis. “This fucking solo cup would treat her better! Do you even hear yourself?”
Christian opens his mouth for another retort, but stops before it can come out. His eyes widen in realization.
“Oh, so you would treat her better.”
“Are you really gonna dismiss everything I’ve said-”
“So that’s why.”
“I’m done talking to you.”
“Do you really think-”
“Hughes, if you don’t move out of my way right this fucking second-”
“Guys?”
Both of you fall silent. Christian turns back while you stare over his shoulder in horror.
Dani.
Christian says something in that faux-friendly voice of his while you’re frozen, unable to make a sound. You don’t know why, you don’t know how, but you’re so terrified that you can barely breathe.
How much did she hear?
“I’ve gotta go.”
Panicking, you finally manage to push past Christian and run out of the room, leaving both of them behind. You’re pretty sure you’re choking on tears by that point, Dani’s calling out to you, and all of this is so, so-
Focus. All you need to do right now is leave, now.
***
It’s been two weeks. Two longest weeks of your life, you might say.
You’re curled up on the couch, trying to watch a movie but failing miserably. None of that matters, you think. You’re alone and Dani’s with Christian. Hell, he’s probably having a field day right now: gloating, calling you stupid, crazy, jealous and a million other things you don’t even want to imagine. Guilt-tripping her for something you did. For something he did too, no less.
Son of a bitch.
The worst part, however, is that he wouldn’t even be that wrong. It was stupid to give in. It was crazy to think that it would change something, that it would help Dani somehow. At the end of the day, what did it accomplish? Losing a friend over a petty fight?
And you have to be honest with yourself: you are jealous. You were, you are and you probably will be. This must be the most awful way to finally realize that you’re in love, truly in love, yet you have to deal with it. You’d let go off this jealousy, though, you’d leave it behind in a heartbeat – if she wasn’t with someone who made her miserable every day. If…
You force yourself to stop this thought spiral. It’s all over, the damage is done and there’s nothing you can do about it anymore. It is what it is.
You start to sniffle when you’re started by the knock at your door. Must be the pizza you’ve ordered, you think. Your life’s falling apart anyways, may as well treat yourself. With a sigh, you drag yourself to the door.
“Hi, do you accept ca-”
The rest of the sentence dies on your lips. Dani’s standing at your door, sweet as ever.
Just very, very tired.
“Hey there. Um… I’ve made some cookies, so…”
“Oh,” you rub the back of your neck, trying not to cry. “Thank you. I-I appreciate it.”
Dani nods, pinching her lips. She fidgets with the hem of her hoodie for a few seconds, looking down.
“Are you… Waiting for someone? I didn’t mean to-”
“Oh, no. I mean, just the delivery guy. Come in, please.”
Just a moment later you’re on the couch again. The same couch you were on when you’ve decided to go to this godforsaken party. The irony.
You contemplate whether you should offer Dani something to drink, but decide against it. There’s no reason to dance around the issue – it’s what created this whole mess in the first place. You need to be open, you think, you need to be honest.
She deserves that much.
“God, Dani, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, don’t-”
“No, it’s not okay. I’ve made a scene, ran off and then flaked on you. That wasn’t right and… I really regret it.”
This isn’t a lie. You don’t regret what you’ve said – honestly, you’d say it all again. But everything that came with it, the way you spoke on Dani’s behalf…
Yeah. ‘Could’ve handled it better’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.
When you gather the courage to look at Dani again, you see her soft smile. She forgives you. Of course she forgives you, the way she always does. She forgave you before she even entered this room.
“No, that’s fine. Really. I’m not upset,” Dani takes your hand, squeezing it. “I was just worried about you, that’s all.”
You chuckle, shaking your head.
“You’re very kind, you know that?”
Dani moves closer to you, putting her head on your shoulder. You close your eyes, your temple pressed to the top of her head.
“How’s Christian, by the way?”
Dani tenses; you feel her calm breathing hitches. Instant regret washes over you, but she replies before you can do anything about it.
“Oh, he’s- I don’t know actually. We broke up a few days ago.”
For a split second, you freeze. Did you hear that right? Are you dreaming?
“Holy shit, I’m sorry,” despite everything that happened, your words are sincere. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I… I don’t know, really,” she shrugs, biting her lower lip. “Still processing, I guess.”
“That’s okay. Look, Dani, you-you don’t have to answer, of course, but…
“But..?”
“Can I ask why?”
Dani lowers her head with a bitter chuckle – something you’ve never seen her do before. You don’t say anything, rubbing her back in gentle motions. Does she feel the same warmth when you touch her?
You hope so.
“What was the final straw?”
“Um, yeah. Yeah, that.”
“Well, Christian kept saying things about you… Whatever, I don’t want to repeat it.”
You shake your head with a huff. “Fair enough, I guess.”
“No! No, that’s-”
“I mean, I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine to him either, so...” you shrug. “And what, that really was-”
“It should’ve been, but no. I… I can’t believe I’ve let him-”
“Hey, hey, Dani, look at me. He’s an adult. He wanted to talk shit, so he did. That’s on him.”
“But I-”
“And besides, we got into a fight. You did nothing wrong, I promise.”
Dani nods in response, still deep in thought. You know that no matter what you say, some part of her still blames herself for how things played out – maybe always will. You know you can’t change that. Because that’s how Dani is, that’s who she is at her core – reflective, responsible, kind.
You’d never want her to change. You just wish that you could make her life easier.
“Thing is,” she continues. “I-I’ve missed you. And I’ve never missed him the way I missed you.”
You swallow, trying to stop the tears threatening to come out. Despite your best efforts, though, your voice still cracks.
“Oh… Thanks. That’s…” you sniffle. “That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Really?”
You don’t answer. Instead, you pull her in a hug – and Dani reciprocates. Of course she reciprocates.
Like she always does.
You don’t know what will happen next, you don’t know what the future holds. All you know is that it will be better than the past.
And for now, it’s more than enough.
#dani ardor#dani ardor x reader#dani ardor imagine#florence pugh x reader#florence pugh imagine#midsommar#seal writes
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9/30/2023
When I'm feeling down, I am vigilant to find fault in others, because it makes me feel like I have something over them. A stupid act of desperation.
The time limit is approaching. I am not doing well. What does it mean to give up? I want to run myself to death.
Could I survive losing all of my family and friends? Should I prepare myself for it? It'll slowly happen at this pace. Was I wrong about things all those years ago? Maybe I should quicken the pace.
I can't open up to anyone. Noone will understand, and everyone will think they understand. Hell, some people probably think they understand already without me saying anything. Maybe the easiest way to be happy is to presume you understand about unhappiness you've never felt.
I wanted to understand my emotions. It might be too late, because now all I ever feel is anger and frustration. Base, useless, devastating emotions.
Some girl I used to know followed me on Strava the other day. Simply because she connected her account and auto followed all of her contacts. And I held onto that for the whole day. Pathetic.
Do I feel good when I beat myself up like this? Honestly it's a little cathartic but I'm not sure if it's healthy. I spend so much time thinking about the past, it fills every undistracted moment of my life. Will it ever stop?
So dramatic for someone who has lived such an objectively easy life. I don't really believe that, more just unsure. But everyone else would surely mock me for thinking I have such insane struggles in my circumstances. So I can't open up. They'll think I'm even more pathetic than they already do. A good way to get some one time pity and then having them slowly drift off. A bad way to quicken the pace.
Maybe I just need to get better at slapping on a smile and enthusiasm, so that it doesn't take so much effort every time. Just get good at it so it doesn't take all my energy, so I don't dread it every time. Just... become an automatic liar. Perfect.
I'm not looking forward to going to Japan soon. I'm worried my shell will break over those 2 weeks. Maybe I'm even more worried that it won't. Maybe I will just be boring because I'm getting tired having to put on enthusiasm all the time. Perfect.
My legs hurt from running today. Good. I wonder if how I feel right now is accurate. If I look back on this post it will probably read pretty terribly. Have I made no progress? Perfect timing to be depressed again for the holiday season. Last time I showed up one time and they thought I was fine. Because I guess I'm good at faking enthusiasm. Fuck you.
If I think rationally about it, it's my fault. It's hard to tell when someone's depressed, and it's even harder when I've been putting on masks for my whole life. But I can't tell them either. Probably the worst cases of depression are the ones where they have noone to tell. Because they can't trust anybody to care enough. I'm doing fine everyone.
God and I hate it even more because I become so self absorbed. Making me lose one of the few things I prided myself on: empathy and thinking of others. And I kept that pride even though it became unjustified. It hurts.
Maybe I can try to think of others in this post. Harley decided she wants to move back home, because of RTO. I wonder how she feels about that. I wonder if I chose that just because it's semi relevant to me. My dad might also be kinda depressed, I'm kinda worried. Probably partly due to me.
God, I can't think of much when I try to remember caring about others recently. You don't just feel worse, you become worse. Please let me care for others again. I am an asshole. I'm not willing to sacrifice myself to help others. I find something in them to condemn and justify this. Nobody helped Jerry, and everyone sure loves beating down on him.
Endroll was a nice game.
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Things about Tower of Nero that I want to highlight to remember them forever:
Lu being an absolute badass woman, I just love her too much
Piper McClean being canon wlw, she was actually kissing another girl, we really fell in love in october
Chaos being canonically female (just chaos being mentioned as a deity rather than what's below tartarus)
nobody DIED, like no one on the good side at least?? yes plenty of beings have died throughout TOA, but nobody died in TON?? so many died in TLO and BOO, I expected to mourn someone and I didn't have too??! it made me so happy
solangelo. that's it. solangelo makes me happy.
will being incredibly supportive of nico, and instead of stopping him, going with him on dangerous adventures because he doesn't want to leave him alone. also them treating Nico's PTSD for what it is
WILL SOLACE CANONICALLY GLOWS IN THE DARK. HE'S A GLOWSTICK BABY.
also will just appearing at the gates of the throne room, glowing in rage because someone touched his boyfriend (and tried to kill his dad), and him just marching through everyone (everyone else letting him), just to pick up his hurt precious boyfriend and take care of him.
meg McCaffrey got her happy ending. she's baby, she deserves her family and her happy ending. also Lu being the mother and the 12 children being siblings?? that's one hell of a way to tell nero to fuck off and right his mistakes. we love meg.
dionysus being the best olympian after apollo. the duo content we needed, and now will never get
nico mentioning bob and how he wants to go look for him, because he can still be in tartarus
rachel still being a Total badass and hitting people in the eye with her blue hairbrush thus being iconic
meg acting as lester's anchor and only reason why he didn't let go of the ledge, not falling into chaos, is top tier 'reasons why I cried reading', because if you think about it, Meg is the first ever friend apollo ever had, and them being best friends is everything to me
also apollo choosing to go looking as lester rather than apollo because lester feels like home is on top tier 'reasons why I cried reading' too
again, the only thing apollo did in the end (once he was god again) that could be described as 'godly' was be in several places at once, fly his chariot, and get meg her unicorn
but apollo shooting fucking fire out of his hands is crazy asf, it was so cool. he really got amazing godly powers this book.
rick being bold enough to showcase abusive parenting knowing that a huge porcentage of his readers are minors, helping many realize that they could be in abusive households, and giving them a tool to reach out for help
apollo defeating nero was so satisfactory, because you realize in the end, that nero wasn't really a monster, he was monstrous, but still very much human (if only with some godly power), and pretty useless once he couldn't hide behind props and weapons, his being wasn't powerful, he was just under layers of protection
the jackson/blofis scene was so warm and loving, they really are willing to put their family in danger, baby estelle in danger, to help 'percy's friends' even tho she knew percy didn't like apollo, but she still takes in everyone who needs help, and paul being a loving and accepting husband
sally working on her SECOND novel, she really is having her best life
none of the big heroes from other series having protagonism, besides nico and will, instead giving the other kids from camp halfblood their chance to show they're just as worthy as the "heroes of olympus"
(still I would have loved to see a scene with everyone else, like the heroes of olympus guys, fighting together one last time, just for nostalgia's sake - I legit hoped to see percy and annabeth arriving with chiron in triumvirate tower, but yeah)
the arrow of dodona may have been a dumb, cringey, and slightly ridiculous thing at first, and I personally rolled my eyes everytime it said anything, but it knew what would happen from the start, and without its sacrifice, apollo would have achieved nothing. we stan one arrow
nico wearing a white cowboy hat. idky but it makes my heart swell with joy. he a gay cowboy
y'all know I love Apollo's arch, and I just gotta point this out. his trials, his time as lester, started with him falling to earth, and ended with him getting up after purposely throwing himself off the earth, towards tartarus, almost falling to chaos. that's really clever writing.
the olympians watching over him, and some actually being concerned for him rather than his progress.
poseidon not really giving a fuck about the world or council meetings anymore because percy's not there anymore
athena being the only one apart from artemis who trusted apollo could do it makes me warm fsr
lester deciding that the best way to retell his adventures is by singing is hilarious to me, he really thinks it'll solve everything
Grover not telling percy and annabeth jason died seems so funny to me, he really said "nah it doesn't matter much, field trip, yes"
"hey man" my heart broke in twenty million pieces. like I don't know where I expected to see jason. but that wasn't it. and it hurt me as much as it hurt apollo man.
(also I kinda hoped we would see nico summon his spirit or smth, but I'm actually happy nico realized that jason went by his own choice, and he was in peace, so he decided not to summon him, because it was alright. that hurt too)
kinda love how lester passes out after literally every battle. it reminds you that even tho he's apollo, his body isn't. I'm sure we all would pass out too if we did a quarter of what lester did in the span of 4 days. his body isn't made to endure that, it doesn't even have a halfblood endurance, it's a weak mortal body
the trogs were fucking hilarious. their screeches and grrs, idk there's something ridiculous and so childish about them, it's so fun
really happy that apollo never had a /real/ love interest (reyna doesn't count), cause that wasn't what his story was about. instead he got to make so many friends, and have quality time with them and his children, it's amazing
apollo being thankful people were telling him he'd grown, and was more human, because he realized that was the best thing he could have learned from his time as a mortal
also him saying fuck you man to zeus and his speech, like "no asshole dad, I did learn, I'm not going to see this as punishment, it was a great time in which bad things happened but I enjoyed it." yes, we love apollo not letting zeus win
getting to see what everyone will do now. nico and will figuring out rachel's prophecy, probs saving bob. rachel living her best life away from her parents. leo doing what leo does, always helping those who have no one else. the hunters' open storyline about this fox, possibly hinting at content? piper settling down in a quiet life is what she deserves tbh, she's earned quiet life with a cute gf, wish her the best. Frank and hazel being the best praetors, and I bet they will continue to be so. And annabeth and percy, who chose their happiness over all, at last
kinda wish we got to see someone still really miss jason after apollo becomes god again tho lmao like apollo missed jason more than the others, nico and piper being the exception. I mean, leo is fine and dandy, hazel and frank are okay, percy and annabeth are done mourning... I just we got to see any of them really mourning, rather than reading they mourned. it would have made it feel more emotional
the last conversation and the last words in general. "the sun always comes back" and "we're friends now. call on me. I'll be there for you" that shit got me sobbing my heart out. rick really managed to do right by the books and end it like he should have, unlike BOO. he took what made TLO good and used a similar formula. it's very different from "and for once I didn't look back", but it still fills you with warmth and the feeling that even though it's over, it's okay.
I'm just really emotional, this is all I can think about, but you bet I'm gonna add more when I remember
#ton#toa#tower of nero#the tower of nero#trials of apollo#pjo#hoo#ton spoilers#toa spoilers#riordanverse#pjoverse#lester papadopoulos#meg mccaffrey#will solace#nico di angelo#jason grace#rachel elizabeth dare#luguselwa#percy jackson#annabeth chase#piper mcclean#camp halfblood#percy jackson and the olympians
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not anymore • james potter
there's nothing james can do anymore. not now, not ever. after all your fate is sealed tight.
word count : 1340
warnings : mentions of abuse, hitting, creepy comments, mentions of cheating, marriage, james is an asshole in this. (if i've missed anything please let me know)
a/n : i feel like this is so bad but i still wanted to post it </3 and hi @gxtitobxby a james angst for you bby
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pain, pain and heartbreak is all you've known the past few months. it's impossible for you to remember the countless times you've been hit, pushed and called names. your body and mind used to the harshness by now.
isn't it funny how your life was amazing a few months ago and now it's in crumbles.
shattered and broken with no way of saving it.
all it took was one misconception, one wrong move by an insane man to ruin your life completely.
a person who you thought was your friend ran off as soon as she saw what happened and spread it around like wildfire.
life turned upside down, barely having a chance to explain yourself before it blew up. not that you would've been allowed to, james's mind was set that you were in the wrong and nothing you could've said would change that.
nobody would've cared about what you'd say. you were labelled as a whore, cheater and much more you can't remember at this point. mind numb to the insults and hits thrown your way.
your boyfriend, the one person who should've trusted you implicitly, didn't.
james refused to listen to you. you had an argument the night before about his jealousy so he was already angry at you. that had an effect on the situation that happened the day after.
you begged james to listen to you. pleaded with him but he scoffed at you and paid no attention. hurtful words flying out of his mouth. you cried in front of him, asked him not to believe the stuff people were accusing you of.
you remember how james had just looked you up and down with a sneer on his face. he pushed you away, back hitting the shelf in the gryffindor common room, making you wince in pain as he walked away. eyes welling up with more tears as pain bloomed inside of you.
from that day on, your own house shunned you. no one spoke or interacted with you. james had made sure of it.
you were a nobody.
evan, evan rosier had ruined your life all because of his little obsession with you. he had wanted you ever since you were young. your families running in the same circles.
he'd always tell you, how you'd be his when you grew up. making you freak out at every corner you'd see him in. it got worse as you grew up, with things turning from somewhat okay to downright disturbing. he'd make sexual comments about you that you'd ignore which only served to make him madder.
rosier would accost you unexpectedly, especially when you were with james and pull you away to 'talk' to you. all those instances made james suspicious and angry.
james anger burst out the night before that awful day all because evan had touched your face. you hadn't moved away quickly enough for james's liking which caused a huge fight between the two of you.
that day is what made your life spiral into madness.
rosier cornered you and forced himself onto you. you pushed him away with all your strength but he ended up kissing you. at that moment, the girl you'd called your 'bestfriend' had run off and spread it around that you'd 'fucked evan rosier' even though you were dating james.
she told everyone that your hair was a mess and your clothes were halfway off even though it was all because you tried to get away from him.
your life is in ruins.
you're pulled out of your thoughts when you see evan approach you from the corner of your eye. he saunters towards you with a smirk on his face.
you stand up straight, your body on edge as you never know what the insane bastard would do now.
he's right in front of you with a creepy smile on his face. you say nothing as he lifts a hand up and strokes a finger down your face.
"what do you want rosier?"
"what is it this time"
he laughs as he cages you in with his hands on either side of your face, making you feel even smaller. his face tilts down towards yours "what now? i can't come to see my fiancée? the girl i'm getting married to soon"
"is that not allowed now doll?"
you shiver and he notices that, eyes darkening in a weird sense of desire. you know, you know he gets off on scaring you, making you feel small and weak. your tied to him now, forever.
the engagement ring he put on you, sealed your fate for the rest of your life.
"please, please evan just leave me alone, you've ruined my life already. what more can you do to me"
begging him does nothing to help, he just grins at you. he leans down and presses a kiss to your neck, smiling against it as you shiver and flinch away. your hands come up to push him away but he bites down making you cry out.
you hear a shoe squeak and your eyes fly open, noticing james in the corner. you have no idea how long he's been there but you don't care.
evan stops and you push him away, slapping him across the face. your chest heaves in anger as he looks at you.
"don't you worry pretty girl, i'll have the rest of our lives to do that to you"
he grins and walks away, leaving you resting against the wall, trying to keep your tears and anger in check.
james takes that moment to finally come out from where he's hiding, approaching you cautiously.
he stands in front of you, watching as you try your best to calm down.
"w-why didn't you tell me that he was doing this to you"
"why would you hide it from me?"
"why didn't you ever tell me, WHY?" he shouts at you as he punches the wall behind your head causing you to flinch in fear.
you shake as tears stream down your face, leaving streaks on your red cheeks.
"because i didn't want you to hurt him and get yourself into trouble. i thought i could deal with it all by myself."
"but even if i told you, would you have believed me james?"
you cross your arms and shake your head as he nods furiously, but you know the truth. james was so convinced something else was happening between you and evan that he wouldn't have cared. it showed in the way he so ruthlessly pushed you away the day your life was messed up.
he watches you as your face turns into a sad watery smile.
"p-please you can leave him, come back to me?"
he begs you with tears in his eyes but all it does is make you sob harder.
"i can't, not anymore james, not anymore, the marriage contract won't allow it"
sighing, you try to talk without sobbing "the day this ring was put on my finger, was the day my fate was sealed. i can never leave him. if i do? i'll die james"
james can't believe the words that spill from your mouth, he looks at you with his mouth wide open.
"t-there has to be a way! there has to be one, i-i can't allow this"
you scoff and shake your head trying your best to stop the tears running down your face.
"maybe you should've thought about what it would do to me when you didn't believe me and listened to what others said, james"
"i told you, i told you countless times that it wasn't true and yet you decided to ignore me and leave me to the wolves"
"i guess you have no one to blame but yourself for this one potter"
you turn away, leaving him on the floor. as you walk away, you hear his breath hitch and soon sobs fill the air behind you. it hurts, it hurts you badly but there's nothing either of you can do, not anymore.
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if you’d like to be added to my taglist it’s here <3
please readd yourself !! it's a new one and i'm forgetful :/
taglist • @anchoeritic @barneswidow @izzyyy-1 @weasleyswizardwheezes1 @anywherebuthere @weasleysbitch2 @sweeterthansammy
#james potter imagine#james potter x reader#james potter angst#james x reader#james imagines#harry potter imagine#james potter#harry potter angst
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Wanna Make A Bet?: A Mondo Owada smut request.
18+ ONLY. DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18!!!!!
NSFW: request and story under cut
TW:// exhibitionism, public pleasure, chastity belts, orgasm deprivation, cursing
Word Count:// 1,976
“a one-shot featuring mondo oowada practicing exhibitionism please? In the story, he'd go to town to do errands wearing a face mask. In truth, he'd have a vibrator on him with his cock in chastity and his mouth tape gagged under the mask. His objective is to finish his errands without anyone exposing him or him cumming in public. And I kinda imagine that he's doing this out of a dare between his gang members. To show he's a real man whose in control of himself. He would mainly be alone but his gang leaders would look from a distance to see if he hasn't lost yet.”
“Wait bro, you’re what?” One of the guys piped up quickly. Mondo just sighed heavily and look his friend / gang member in the eyes and repeated himself. “I’m an exhibitionist, man.”
“What the fuck is that??” Another gang member asked almost instantly.
“Jesus Christ- fuck all of you,” Mondo said getting pissed off at his friends. “I told you that sitting around like a bunch of little bitch ‘drinking and talking about our feelings‘ or whatever the fuck was fucking stupid.”
“No come on bro, none of us have literally ever even heard of that before”
“Fuck, it just means I like the idea of people seeing me get off, I guess?” Mondo said sharply looking at all his friends sitting around him. “like I get off on it I fucking guess.”
“So like, you want to jack off in public?” One of them asked.
“I’ll kick your fucking ass bro- that’s nasty dude. I’d never want anybody unsuspecting to fully see it dude, christ” Mondo stood up out of his chair and looked at them all. “You’re so fuckin dumb- all of ya! I don’t wanna be put on a damn sex offender list for touching myself in the goddamn park or something! I just… want to get off in front of people. It seems fucking hot,” he admitted while shrugging.
A few of the guys exchanged glances, and started to mumble to each other, just soft enough that Mondo couldn’t make out what was being said until they all looked back at him. “Wanna make a bet?” One of the guys asked as he stood up to be eye level with their gang’s leader.
“How much? And what kinda bet we talkin?” Mondo asked, admittedly intrigued.
“20,000¥. Meet us back here tomorrow at noon. Got it?”
Mondo just rolled his eyes. “Whatever, but I got some fuckin errands to run so you better make it quick, got it assholes?” He made eye contact with everyone else in the room, as they just snickered at him.
And that’s how he got here. In the bathroom of the garage the gang always meets at. Mondo sighs and looks in the duffel bag his friends tossed into his arms when he walked in, with no instructions further than “put it all on and get back out here.” ‘How did they even get all this stuff so last minute? Did they already have it?” Mondo thought to himself. So he did. He started by putting on, and locking, the chastity belt, which made him just a little too excited. Mondo hasn’t ever actually used a chastity before, he just knows they’re supposed to make him last way longer since he can’t touch himself, and he knows it’ll keep him nice and hard. Then he decided to use the duct tape, and gag himself with it, keeping his mouth shut. The next logical move for him was to put on the black face mask, so nobody could see the tape gag situation he had going on. All this for ¥20,000? ‘Fuck me’ was all he could think right now. Then the last step. Mondo held the little remote controlled vibrating butt plug in his hand and just stared at it for a few minutes before inserting it. He didn’t turn on it yet, and he was nervous as shit to do it too.
Mondo slowly and carefully walked out of the bathroom to the main room where everyone was waiting for him. He was already getting hard, and knew that whatever the fuck this was, was going to be a fucking nightmare. “Bro, everything… in place?” One of his gang members asked cautiously. The gagged Mondo just shook his head up and down quickly. “Perfect! So, you wanna get off in front of people without being put on a list?” His friend taunted. Mondo blushed, but luckily you couldn’t tell through the mask. “Well, I know you said you had some errands to run today, so why don’t we see if you can get through all those- but maybe without cumming,” he teazed. Mondo got wide eyed. So now, not only is he going to be horny as hell in public, but he’s not allowed to finish until the fucking errands are done? His face turned red and he tried to scream at his gang, forgetting about the gags, which just left him muffled and even more pissed off. Quickly Mondo got out a piece of paper and wrote:
“You’re fucking ON assholes.”
That’s exactly what they wanted to hear. “Perfect. Let’s get you on the back of a bike, because face it man, you can not drive with all that shit on ya,” the gang member chuckled. “I will be close behind watching though- so you better not cheat or try to lie, because trust me, I’ll fucking know. Oh and you’re giving me the key to that belt. It’s not coming off,”
With that, Mondo handed his gang member the key, then pulled himself onto the back of his bike, and the two of them rode off to the market place. As they pulled up to the big parking lot, the gang member cracked a small smirk, and got off the bike with Mondo. “All right, go do your shopping or whatever the fuck you gotta do man. I’ll keep my distance, but I’m watching you.” He said as he headed off into the crowd of people, leaving Mondo there alone. With a deep breathe in, and reaching into his coat pocket, he pressed the button to the remote control that little plug he had shoved up his ass. He set it to a low setting for now, and walked up to the first shop he had to go to. He took a deep breath and walked through the supermarket doors.
Mondo was walking through the fruits and vegetables section of the store, with his cock as hard as ever. Another man needed to grab something on the shelf right in front of Mondo, so he moved over to allow the man some space- and when he did his vibrator shifted just a little and he accidentally slipped. “Mmmh” he hummed lightly, quickly trying to turn it into a cough so the man next to him didn’t suspect anything. But Mondo loved the way he just felt. He reached his hand into his pocket and put the vibrator on a medium pulsating setting, that made him even hornier than before, if that’s even possible.
“Hnnnnnnngh” Mondo moaned lowly. He wanted to scream, his body felt amazing. He caught a woman shoot a side eye at him but she turned away and went about her business. Mondo tried his absolute best to compose himself, straightened up the best he could, and walked into the aisle he had come to the store for.
‘I just need 3- oh my fucking god” Mondo thought to himself. He quickly hunched over and grabbed onto the nearest shelf to catch his breath and control himself. He wanted to touch himself so badly, but with the belt that wasn’t even possible. “Hmm..” Mondo moaned out a few times. “hmmmf…” He already wants to turn the vibrator up to max speed, but he knows he’ll be a cryong mess if he does that. He only has one more thing to do once he’s done with the store, he can last till then, he thinks. He slowly makes his way through the aisle, grabs the three items he needed for his apartment, and tries to go pay. But god the line is long today. He has no choice but stand there and wait. Every time the line moved a little and he was forced to take a small step forward, his vibrator hit him in just the right spot to make him a god damn mess. ”nmmm… fuh..” he started to moan out in the still long line. He knew nobody could hear him, or cared but he was so embarrassed. The line moved once again, and this time his vibrator hit his prostrate in the exact right spot. A few tears formed at the corner of Mondo’s eye as he actively restrained himself from moaning out in pleasure.
Finally it’s his turn to check out and pay. He reaches into his jackets pocket to grab his wallet, but when he does, he bumps the button on the remote. “Haaaaahh…”Mondo hisses loudly as he arches his back a little. He took a few deep breaths, then pretended to finish a pretty unbelievable sneeze and proceeded to pay. The moment the cashier gave Mondo his change, he grabbed his stuff and ran to the nearest public restroom. He swiftly locked the door behind him and gripped onto the side of the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He tried to palm himself through his pants, but the metal belt covering his fully erect dick gave him absolutely no direct contact with his throbbing cock. He starts whimpering loudly- but it’s not too loud thanks to his gag and mask. “Mmmmmh,” “hmmm hoh my god ffff-“ he barely muttered out. Mondo wanted to scream, or cry, or just touch himself once, so desperately. He felt like he was close to cumming from the vibrator alone. “Hnnnng” he cried out.
Mondo decides to try and stand up so he could leave the bathroom as quickly as he can, and find his way back to the bike. His gang member wasn’t too far behind him, so when they were both at the bike a few moments later, and Mondo hopped on without so much as saying a word, the gang member knew what was going on. He got in the front and took Mondo straight to the garage and tossed the key to him. “Ffnk you” Mondo muttered quickly as he ran to the bathroom he immediately ripped the mask and duct tape off of his mouth and moaned out loudly. “Holy fuccccckkkkk mmmmhhh…” He didn’t care that some of his friends were just a few rooms away and might be able to hear him. He just knew he felt so good and couldn’t help himself. Next was obviously the belt restricting him from touching himself. With a shaky hand, he unlocked it as fast as he was able too- which admittedly took about 3 minutes because of the constant pleasure he was feeling. Once the belt was off, Mondo immediately wrapped his hand around his now swollen, throbbing cock. “FUCK!” He shouted out in pure ecstasy and bliss. He was nothing but a mess of whimpers, cries, and moans in that moment. He knew he wasn’t going to last very long, so he quickly removed the vibrator, and fell to the floor. Mondo pumped his length a couple of times before he felt his orgasm quickly approaching. With one more stroke, he screamed out in pleasure “FUCK ME” and threw his head back as the white liquid oozed out of him, coating his hands, stomach, and thighs. He kept pumping himself slowly as more cum came out of him. “Mm…” he whimpered softly as the last of it came out. With shaky legs, Mondo pulled himself up off the floor, cleaned himself to the best of his ability, put all his clothes back on, and walked (even though it was more like a limp) back into the main area of the garage.
Without saying a word, or making eye contact with anybody, Mondo grabbed ¥20,000 and placed it in his buddy’s hand. He immediately walked out of the garage, barely got on his bike, and went home, thinking about not only just how fucked up his gang is, but how goddamn fun today was for him.
‘Maybe if I ever meet a chick we can do this shit together…’ Mondo thought to himself with a smirk.
#danganronpa smut#trigger happy havoc smut#not sfw danganronpa#danganronpa not sfw#mondo owada smut#owada mondo smut#dirty fan fic#danganronpa lemon#mondo owada lemon#lemon fic#lemon danganronpa#owada mondo#mondo owada
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Asshole. CS
TW: Dom! san, Sub! reader, Pillow humping, stepping, generally very derogatory and lowkey rude, possessiveness. Im gonna put this here cuz i dont know where else to but this is not an example of a healthy relationship, no it is toxic or abusive, it is implied that they are just two very different people who shouldnt be together.
Your relationship with San wasn't a good one. From the moment you two got together you have been arguing about every little thing, and while the good moments were absolutely perfect the bad was far worse. Many of your friends were surprised you were still together. But despite all the fighting and miscommunications, San was still the only man you could look at, and that was infuriating.
Honestly, the two of you had tried to break up multiple times, but each period wouldn't last more than a week, because nobody else knew you like the other. So inevitably you would find your way back to each other.
Tonight was one of the bad nights. Your mutual friend Yunho was throwing a huge party at his apartment. The trouble had started before you even arrived. The plan was to get ready at San's place at ride over together, but at the last moment, you had decided to get ready at your own home, simply because San always rushed you. You figured that this way he could leave whenever he was ready and so could you. However, San did not see it that way.
You had just stood up from your vanity, having just finished applying your makeup, but a text alert brought you back down to sit.
"Your impossible" was all it said. This made you scoff. It was from your boyfriend. San had always told you that you were too indecisive and flaky, that he never knew what you wanted and it made it impossible to please you. It was probably true, but he was not without faults himself so you still found it annoying.
You chose to leave him on read before making your way over to the party. You were still simmering with annoyance over his attitude while you drove. Eventually, you landed at Yunho's building. You don't know exactly how your friend was able to afford the place as it was pretty big for only him and his roommate, but it certainly allowed for fun gatherings.
You were buzzed up and not too long after you were at Yuhno's door. Only seconds after knocking, you could hear the music and talk from outside, the door swung open to reveal the tall man.
"Hey!" Yunho cried, pulling you in by your arm. Yunho rarely drank more than one or two beers at his party so he could keep everyone in line, so it wasn't a surprise when you found him still completely sober.
"I almost thought you weren't going to make it!" The tall man spoke swinging and arm over your shoulder for a side hug. You smiled into it.
"Yeah sorry, I was running a bit behind," was all you said.
"When San showed up without you I thought you had canceled," your friend spoke while pulling away from the hug.
"Yeah, well plans change" you replied. You had thought you hid the contempt well enough but Yunho knew you too well. He gave you a questioning look but you changed the subject.
"Where is he anyway? You asked. Yunho only pointed into the living room. Your mood only darkened. There were tons of people but you could still see your boyfriend clear as day sitting on the couch with at least three girls hanging off of him. This was one of your problems with San. No, he had never cheated on you, if they tried to kiss him he would push them away, if they made a suggestive comment he would brush them off, but of they flirted with him? He ate that shit up. He said that it shouldn't matter because at the end of the day your the one who gets to fuck him, but the fact he would just sit there and let them feed his ego was pissy as all hell.
You frowned deeply, not even trying to hide this one, and turned the opposite direction into the kitchen for a drink. You could feel the judgment coming of Yunho in waves, but he said nothing. When you reached the kitchen you found the first bottle of whatever and poured yourself a tall glass of whatever. You weren't about to let your boyfriend ruin your night, even after he ruined your mood. So you opted to ignore him all night.
It had been a while. After you finished your drink and allowed it to take effect you moved back into the pandemonium that was the living room. Here was the source of the music and the majority of the talking. You danced lazily to the music, not paying any attention to anyone just allowing yourself to unwind. The pounding base felt nice in your head and along with the buzz of the alcohol you were more than content.
Soon an arm slipped around your shoulders again. This time it was Mingi. Yunho's roommate. You weren't as close to him as Yunho but you could easily call him a friend.
"What's up?" You called over the music, stepping out of the dancing bodies to talk.
"Just coming to say hi, where's san?" He asked taking a little look around.
"Don't know don't care" you replied leaning against the wall. Mingi laughed a little.
"You two at it again?" He questioned with a quirk of the brow. You returned the laugh.
"Call it whatever you want, I don't want to talk to him tonight," Mingi sighed with a smile.
"You two are impossible," Mingi walked away after finishing his comment but his choice of words soured your mood again. You dared to look around for San. Once you found him it made it worse.
It seems like two of the girls had lost hope because the last one remaining was laying it on thick. She was sitting so close their legs were pressed together and her hand was dragging up and down his arm.
You scoffed and turned away before a thought hit you. If he was able to entertain other people then why can't you? With that idea in mind, you set out to find a cute boy to mess with.
It wasn't hard, within minutes of putting yourself out there a guy who clearly wasn't close enough with anyone here to know your situation had approached you in the hallway on your way to fill up your drink.
You both stood in the hallway against the wall for a bit, he was hopelessly eager so flirting with him was a breeze. Slowly you made your way into the living room once again and made yourself comfy with the new boy. No, you weren't as obvious as the girl hanging off your boyfriend, you were too good for that, but it was clearly enough to have him hanging on your every word. At some point, you glanced up and made eye contact with Yunho who only threw you a curious look but you only winked at went back to your nameless boy.
You spoke for a bit longer, playing into him as much as possible as he showered you with compliments. You were happily basking in the praise when a sudden presence made itself know in front of you. You turned, and low and behold, it was San.
His perfect features were screwed into a glare fixated on both you and the boy. You almost let your giggle show when you look behind his perfectly shaped body to see the girl he had been entertaining looking lost and confused exactly where he left her on the couch.
Your satisfied smirk must have shown on your face however because soon your boyfriend's cold fingers wrapped around your chin hold your chin up to face him. He crouched down so you two were eye level.
"You think this is funny?" He asked in a dangerous tone. He only used this voice when he meant business but tonight you were standing your ground.
"Very funny," you replied, managing to hold your smirk even with his hand clamped on your cheeks.
"What the fuck man? Let her go," the boy finial voiced only after recovering from the shock of the scene before him. He reached out to pull Sans hand away before you stopped him.
"You can leave now," you said, not looking away from San. (not like you could) but still very clearly talking to the boy. You could hear the confusion in the silence. Before he spoke again.
"Wait what?" He asked stupidly.
"You can go, I'm done with you for now," you spoke.
"Wait this is crazy what are you-"
This time San in all his severe and intimidating glory turned to the boy and cut him off.
"Hey dick head, I think my girlfriend told you to leave us alone." He spoke with an edge. Having finally got the message the boy got up and left. And San's piercing gaze returned to you again, his hand finally dropping to let his forearm resting on his knee.
"So I'm your girlfriend now?" You asked with contempt. Crossing your arms, and swinging one leg over the other.
"Oh shut up" San replied scoffing.
"I'm just wondering if you told those girls that, that you have a girlfriend. Or maybe it's that you did but they just didn't care because clearly, you enjoyed all the attention they were giving you" the words rattled out of you in quick succession.
"Clearly you're broken up about it. Throwing yourself at any guy who will give you the time of day," he spits back, "if I remember correctly you were the one who didn't want to come together as a couple," he reminded in a scathing tone.
"Only because you are a controlling asshole," you spat back equally as resentful.
"And you're a paranoid drama queen I guess we all have our problems." He shot back. Eyes narrowing even more.
"Well maybe if you have such a problem with it I should go find that guy and fuck him. If I am so annoying then how about I go be someone else's problem!" you almost screamed at him beath heaving slightly when you finished. San stared at you unreadable for a moment.
He stood abruptly, taking you roughly by the arm and pulling you to your feet. He wordlessly dragged you through the crowd.
"San what the fuck let go!" You tried to pull free but failed. Moments later san had dragged you into Yunho's room and slammed it shut before locking it. Your boyfriend turned to you with eyes darker than you had ever seen.
"Never fucking say that again." He spoke dangerously calm. He took two quick steps twords you before slamming his lips onto yours. You reacted quickly, returning the kiss with as much anger as you could. Yeah, you wanted him to fuck you, but you weren't about to let him forget how pissed off you were.
In moments your dress had been pulled over your head and you were pushed onto the bed and Sans body trapped you there. He reconnected your lips. Your kiss was anything but sweet, your teeth were clacking and your lips were swollen. San pulled back once or twice to bite at your bottom lip and pull before it snapped back into place. His hand wound its way into the roots of your hair and yanked.
With your head now pulled away and a dull ache radiated out from your head you groaned and rolled your hips into his feeling him harden through your underwear.
"Your such a needy slut." he spoke with venom while nipping and sucking at your neck, determined to leave as many visible marks as possible.
"Like you aren't?" You scoffed running your nails down his forearms, leaving your own mark on him.
"Shut the fuck up. Do I need to remind you whos in charge here?" He punctuated this with a particularly hard bite on your shoulder. You winced.
"No, I can tell there's no need. I just need to remind you whos slut you are don't I?" He asked in a patronizing tone. "Because your all mine baby, and I am not going to let you forget it."
In a moment he flipped your bodies over and pushed you off him to stand on your own feet in front of where he sat on the bed. You stumbled a little in the process and had to brace yourself on his shoulders. He looked at you unimpressed.
Your arms crossed and your brow furrowed.
"Strip" he commanded easily. You were only in your bra and panties but clearly this was too much for his fully clothed self. You glared.
"You first," you said indignantly. After a beat and a long stare San's hand shot out and clenched your ass hard. You couldn't help the yelp that escaped you.
"Unless you want me to spank you so hard your ass turns purple you should start undressing." He let go of you.
You knew he would keep to that promise so you slowly began to unhook your bra.
"Don't keep me waiting" he spoke in a warning.
You pulled the garment off your shoulders and slid your panties down.
"Finally you learned how to behave" he spoke with indignation. You humpfted unhappily.
"Does my slut, want me to touch her?"
"I think that much is clear," you mumbled.
"Speak up," he demanded.
"Yes!" You groaned. He glared at you for a moment.
"I don't think you deserve it," he replied. Instead, he reached behind himself and grabbed one of Yunho's pillows, and tossed it at your feet.
"You want to get off? Use that." Your stomach filled with dread.
"There is no way I'm doing that," you said, trying to convince yourself as much as him.
"Then I guess your not cumming tonight" he spoke flatly, staring you down. You stared at him in disbelief.
"Go on," he insisted. You felt your resolve slip as the ache in your core grew. Slowly but surely you knelt down and straddled the pillow. In the moments you sat down you were already dreading this. It was far too soft and smooth to gain any kind of fiction without some serious work. You already felt humiliated without having done anything yet.
"Look at me," San directed from the bed. Your pink face turned to look at him. He looked damn good as always, practically glowing in the bedroom haze. You couldn't help but clench the plush between your thighs. One more expectant look from San made you move.
After the first drag of your pussy against the pillow you almost cried at the lack of sensation. It was unfair how little feeling you got from it. But in San's eyes, you could see that that was exactly what he was looking for, the desperation.
You began moving your hips again. You were rutting your pussy against the pillow as fast as you could chasing the tiny bit of relief that came each time. You were already panting from all the work, grunting each time your clit dragged against the too soft fabric.
Slowly the pleasure was starting to build and you could feel the wetness pouring out of you dampening the cushion bellow you. Now that it was wet the material was a bit rougher so you got a little more of the friction you desired. Your eyes meet your boyfriend's dark gaze.
"Not so big now are you? Humping a pillow just because I told you to. Acting like my good little slut. Whose slut are you?" The filth spewed out of Sans mouth leaving you breathless, you were hesitant to admit defeat so you stayed silent. After a beat, Sans boot lifted from where it was planted on the carpet and dug into your thigh dangerously close to your sopping pussy. You whined as he stilled your movements. He pushed you down by your thigh keeping you immobilized on the pillow.
"I said, who's slut are you?" He asked in the sickest sweetest voice, leaning down slightly forcing the eye contact you wanted to break. When his boot dug even harder into you, stinging in the process you finally felt your resolve crumble.
"I'm your slut," you said barely above a whisper.
"Didn't quite catch that babe," he encouraged.
"I'm your slut," the words came out much more forceful this time to the point you almost shouted it. As soon as they were out of your mouth you burned in shame, looking away from the growing smirk on his face.
"All mine," the words slipped out almost absentmindedly. He reached out at cupped your burning cheeks and titled your head up.
"Come here baby,"
You obeyed him eagerly. Your hips ached a bit from the exertion but you stood perfectly still and waiting in front of him. San eyed your body up and down, reaching out to feel up every inch of you. He took special care to play with your thighs, messaging them in his strong hands for a moment. You keened happily in his touch, letting him play with you however he wanted. It helped some to ease the burn but that wasn't his goal. His hand slipped between your legs and slid between your folds.
You realized a shaky moan in response, almost jumping away as you were still so sensitive. But you stayed put.
"My little slut is being so good, letting me toy with her pussy like this." He cooed at you, fueling your blushing face. His finger ran up and down your most sensitive area sometimes stopping to pinch your clit or cup your heat entirely, but never slip inside. That he was avoiding. You felt so empty knowing he was right there, so close to filling you up but still not doing it.
You whined wantonly.
"What's wrong sweetheart," he smirks at you.
"San, please fill me up?" You begged.
"My baby wants to get fucked like a slut?" He asks, one finger prodding your hole but still not entering. You cried out in desperation.
"Yes! Yes please!"
"OK baby," he finally replied in a soothing tone, but the retracting hand made you quiver, you were so needy but you had yet to be given any kind of release and it was killing you.
"Hands and knees, baby"
You scrabbled onto the bed to do as you were told, presenting your ass to him as well as you could with a slight arch to your back. You could hear his low chuckle behind you. You felt him stand up momentarily and heard the familiar sound of a belt buckle to show he was finally undressing. You wanted to look at him so bad but you didn't want to take even the slightest risk right now.
Finally, he climbed onto the bed behind you, cupping your ass tenderly in both hands with a small squeeze.
"So pretty, and it's all mine" you heard him speak. You mumbled in agreement with a nod. You breathed heavily in anticipation, waiting to finally feel something.
In one unexpected movement, San sheathed his cock into you. Your cries were so loud you were sure they could be heard over the pending music in the next room, but you didn't care. It felt so nice to be full.
San was never one for preamble so it only took a moment for him to start to pound his cock into you at an inhuman pace. The sound of the music was now being completely drowned out by the cries from you, the grunts from San, the slapping skin, and the obscene wet sound coming from your pussy.
San knew his way around your body so well, it only took a moment for him to find that special spot inside you that had you spiraling, your front half collapsed onto the bed, muffling the sounds coming out of you. It only lasted a second though before a rough grip took hold on the back of your head. San yanked you up by your hair keeping your mouth free to spew filth.
The pain in your scalp returned as your boyfriend leaned down to whisper in your ear through his own panting breath, still nailing into your hole.
"Don't you dare, keep your head up and let them hear just how much of a slut you are for me." He spoke deadly serious. Your reply was a loud cry of his name that echoed around the room.
His focus returned to fucking you to tears, which is about where you were as you felt the first pricks of wetness in the corners of your eyes.
San was speaking again,
"Whos are you baby? Tell me who is it that's fucking you this good?" He practically shouted the words at you, his cock was sliding deliciously in and out so quickly that before you could even register his pull out he was slamming back in dragging your walls as he went pulling even more wetness out with each thrust. Your eyes were rolling back but you answered somewhat absently.
"Yours San, all yours" after the words left your mouth the first time you couldn't seem to stop, constantly spewing the word "yours" over and over again. San began repeating his reply as well with a little more force,
"All mine."
San removed his hand from your hair but you kept your head up however difficult it was when he was fucking you like that. Instead, both of your boyfriend's hands took hold of your waist, and with this newfound grip, he was pulling you back to meet his thrusts. Each push now had even more force behind it and you could feel your release fast approaching.
"San-" you tried to speak but lost the words in your mouth.
"I know baby, my little cockslut is going to cum all over me isn't she?" You cried out your affirmation when your words failed you.
"Go ahead sweetheart, cum while a fill your pussy up even more."
You finally came and came hard. It was by the will of God you kept yourself upright as your orgasm washed over you, especially with San still keeping pace although it began faltering as his orgasm crashed around him. You felt the sticky cum shoot into you in ropes coating your inner walls, making your orgasm even more fulfilling.
After a moment San stops moving. You could feel him begin to soften inside you but you were still clenching hopelessly against him. Your arms finally gave way and you came crashing down. San kneeled above you catching his breath before falling onto the bed beside you. He dared to pull you close to observe your face.
A sudden smirk arose on his perfect features.
"I won,"
"You asswipe."
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suna rintaro is NOT a genius.
summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.
part 2
a/n: this was literally supposed to be a series, i gave up on it because i just didn’t like the way it turned out. it used to be called “out of my league” and this was the intro. i also renamed it. just emptying drafts!! please don’t get confused with the random timeskip, once again, this was a part of a series i never ended up posting😭
WARNING!!: suggestive themes, mentions of death, idk kinda angsty but tell me if i missed anything
Soulmates. Whatever the hell that means. The idea of soulmates is something I truly don’t understand. It’s bullshit, honestly. It’s all-pervasive.
My mother always told me I'd eventually find "the one.” I used to believe that when I was younger of course. But in my opinion? It’s all cliches. It's unhelpful, and it's certainly not true. Destiny is an excuse for the weak. Why do you think most marriages end in divorce? It's 'cause people who believe they are “destined to be" assume everything will fall into place without any effort. I don't appreciate people pontificating bullshit like that just to make me feel better, especially if they haven't found their "soulmate" themselves. My sister once told me, “People who believe in soulmates are more likely to break up and encounter more difficulty in their relationship, which will lead them to give up on one another eventually.”
I sure do believe that.
My mother is a prime example. Fumeiko Suna, my dear mother. Well, she clearly hasn’t found hers. I found out when I came home after a tedious day of school in 5th grade and found my dear mother on the floor crying, with bruises all over her face and a busted lip.
Initially, I thought a burglar had broken into our home once again, but if that were the case then there would’ve been missing furniture. But there wasn’t.
In fact, the place seemed cleaner than usual. When I ran up to her and asked her what had happened, there he was. The devil himself. My father. He reeked of alcohol, and I could detect his shadow towering over me. It’s funny how that I think of it. I used to fear that son of a bitch. Now, I’m way taller than him, and hate his guts. I turned around to see a faux-sympathetic smile plastered on his face.
He explained how my mother was being “clumsy” and had fell and busted her lip on one of the corners of the kitchen table and when I turned back around to face my mother, she smiled gently and nodded in agreement. She didn’t say anything after that.
It was then I realized my father had beat my mother to a pulp.
Long story short, when I found it was my father, sure, I was frightened. In fact, I remember going into my siblings’ rooms to inform them, they shrugged it off and told me that dad had been doing it for a while now.
Over time, when my dad had found out that I was aware, he didn't mind beating the absolute shit out of my mother in front of all three of us. This was when my burning hatred for that man started. Nobody in the house even attempted to stop him. I did a few times, though. He took all his anger out on me. At least my mom had a break for the day.
I almost pitied my mother. Almost. Maybe if she was strong enough to leave him, then yeah, I’d feel bad. But she still decides to stay with his sorry ass. It’s pathetic. It’s unrequited love or whatever you call it. How could she still love that asshole?
I mean, I’m not even going to lie, I’m an asshole too, but I’m definitely not my dad. I would never want to be him. He’s not someone I looked up to, he doesn’t do anything inspirational. He’s a businessman. He travels the majority of the time, and I’m pretty sure my mom invites men over when he’s gone. I don’t care enough to find out. But if I ever hear some guy rearranging my mom’s guts, I’ll kill him. I don’t even blame my mother. What she’s doing is wrong, she knows it and so do both of my older siblings. But they don't seem to care so why should I?
Who knows why she just won’t leave him. Maybe it’s cause they don’t want to ruin how people view our “picture perfect” family. I wonder what they’d say. “I thought the Suna’s were the ideal family? I guess not.”
My dad would probably lose it if he heard that.
Both my mother and my father are the cause of this broken family of mine. They never fed me or any of my siblings the love we always desired when we were younger. They never came to any of my volleyball games when I was younger. They never applauded me for the little recitals we’d have in class in primary school. They were never even here for most of my childhood. They always put money first and left us with the housekeepers. Hell, the housekeepers probably know me better than my own parents.They failed as parents. I despise them for it. They’re most likely the reason I am the way I am, but to be honest?
I don’t give a fuck.
In fact, I should thank them! Because of how they “raised” me, i’m extremely blunt, which is why people respect me. I use the hatred I have for my family and take it out on people and no, I’m not proud of that. I may be a heartless asshole, but I like that people fear me. The hell? Does that make me a sadist? Either way, people know to never fuck with me cause I’d fuck their shit up. I’ve overheard many people say it’s ‘cause of my privilege. It probably is. Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy you many other things.
If my parents were broke, I’d probably be expelled from school by now. Abuse of alcohol and drugs are forbidden on school property. I don’t even take them at school, I somewhat care about my education and health, but sometimes I just need to blow some steam. Even if I did, nobody’s gonna say shit since my dad is the head of Japan’s board of education. How did his ass even get there?
Call me lonely or cynical. Maybe I am. But how is that a bad thing? Why do people need a significant other to rely on? What, a soulmate is just going to turn my life upside down then suddenly bring me happiness? Pfft, I’m gonna need actual proof that shit like that still happens. I’ve only seen shit like that in fairy tale movies. It’s whatever, though. I can live with being alone. I’ve basically been alone my whole life and it isn’t as bad as people make it.
You loved the idea of having a soulmate. The thought of meeting someone who just understood you, accepted you for who you were, and most importantly, loved you excited you. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.
But recently, you weren’t sure soulmates existed.
When your older sister, Akira, came into your room and burst into tears, it frightened you. Your older sister, the one who’d always provide you advice on relationships and how to keep one was in your room sobbing hysterically because hers hadn’t worked out.
“I just can't believe it,” she sobbed.
You couldn’t believe it either. Your sister had recently gotten engaged to her boyfriend of 9 years. They started dating at the age of 15 and managed to make things work out even after high school, and out of all those years of dating, they never broke up. Not even once.
They’d go on romantic dates on Saturdays and they’d always write love letters to one another every day, just to remind one another of how grateful they were to have each other in their lives. On Halloween, they’d dress up as fictional characters from TV shows and books and take cute selfies and bake a bunch of sweets. They’d invite you to come bake with them, but you would politely deny. You knew they were only offering so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you appreciated.
Of course, they’d argue every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out. Oh to have a relationship like theirs. They were everything you wanted to have in a relationship and more.
“I really thought he was the one for me, y’know?” No, you don’t know. But that doesn't matter. What mattered was cheering your sister up.
“Maybe he wasn’t ‘the one’ Akira, and that’s okay! People come and go all the time, soulmates come and go all the time as well-”
“You still believe soulmates are real, huh?” she let out a humorless laugh and sniffed her nose, “What If I missed my one shot at love, Y/N? What if I lost my soulmate?”
That’s some deep shit.
Now that you think about it, were soulmates real? Soulmates come and go, yes, you’re aware of that, but even though they leave, it’s always temporary. Soulmates always find a way back to their other half, the piece that completes them.
Your dad never made it back to your mother.
He died in a car crash 5 years ago. Your mother and father had been arguing because she claimed your father was cheating on her since he wouldn’t let her check his phone.
You were 13 at the time. Your sister Akira was accompanying you in your room, listening to them arguing back and forth with one another. There was furniture flying across the room, glass breaking, and both of them throwing curses at each other. You were scared. They never argued in front of you and your sister. They'd bicker sometimes, but it was never anything too deep.
Eventually, your father had enough of your mother’s false accusations, and out of anger, he packed his things and left home. For weeks. It wasn’t until one of your uncles called your mother and broke the news. She didn’t take it very well.
Late 2012-early 2013.
Not many people came to your father’s funeral, his family didn’t like the fact that he and your mother were together, they said your mother was trouble, but your dad still stayed with her, even if that meant it would completely destroy the bond he had with his family. Now that’s true love, you had thought. Only your mother, Akira, the Sunas, your uncle, and you, of course, attended the funeral.
It hurt a lot. It hurt when your mother informed both your grandparents on your mother and father’s side and all they could do is put the blame on her. It hurt how they had claimed you, Akira and your mother were a hindrance to your dear father’s well-being. How could they be so cruel at a time like this?
That was the first time you ever questioned if soulmates were real. Maybe they fell in love at the wrong time? Who knows.
After your father’s passing, Fumiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, was there to help your family out financially. Your mother couldn’t even find the motivating to go to work. Your mother and Fumiko have been best friends since junior high, they’ve literally been inseparable ever since. In fact, after they both got married, they decided to live right next to each other.
Your mom didn’t cope with your father’s death very well; none of you did. But your mom had it the worst.
She would cope with alcohol and clubbing which would always result in her bringing different men home almost every night. You didn’t say much about it, you thought it would be selfish to since that’s what seemed to make your mother feel better about herself, but your sister hated it. She was already 19 and in college at the time, but when she visited and found out that your mother had basically been neglecting you, she was furious.
“Seriously, mom? This is what you’re gonna do while your 13-year-old daughter is in her room having a literal mental breakdown because of your childish behavior?” Your sister had barged into your mother’s room when she thought you were asleep, she was screaming loud.
“You’re interrupting something important, Akira. You know better than to-”
“Oh, shut the hell up mom. You’re the last person on earth to be saying shit like that.”
“Well, if you’re done, you can leave my room now. You’re being disrespectful, and this behavior is not tolerated!” Your mother was screaming now. The man in the bed covering his body under the covers and looking back and forth between Akira and your mother.
“Sakiya, maybe you should hear your daughter out-”
“Not now.” your mother scarcely interrupted the man, eye contact never leaving Akira. “Y/N has never complained about this when you were in college. She knows this is my way of coping, why can’t you understand that too!”
Akira scoffed. “So what, getting fucked by random strangers you find on the filthy streets is your way of coping? Getting wasted every damn night to the point where Y/N has to drag you up to bed is okay with you? Do you even know how much this is affecting Y/N? Did you even bother asking her how she felt? I hate breaking it to you mom, but you need serious help.”
“You selfish child!” Your mother screamed, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body, getting up from the bed. “How dare you say that to your own mother?”
“I’m only telling the truth! If you’re the mother, then it’s your job to be taking care of Y/N, not neglecting her. When’s the last time you’ve engross in an actual conversation with her when you were fully sober?”
Your mother was silent. She quickly walked up to Akira and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her headfirst against the wall.
“You’ve got a big mouth! Maybe I should wash it with soap like I did back in the day, hm?” Akira was attempting to push her mother away, but she wouldn’t let go of her grip. The man that was still on your mother’s bed was in panic, yelling her name, which didn’t have any effect. He might as well stop.
"Look," Akira mumbled, struggling to get away from your mother's grip, "I know it's been hard ever since dad left-"
“Mom! Let go of her!” You cried from the door of her room.
All 3 adults froze and looked at your glassy eyes, mouths wide open.
“Hey, kiddo, I thought you were asleep?” Akira playfully said, your mother let go of Akira and crossed her arms then looked away from you.
“Well, I can't really go to sleep when there’s a bunch of adults yelling about my well-being,” you muttered incoherently. You quickly wiped the uncontrollable tears off your face and sighed.
“Honey,” your mom started, she walked slowly to you, carefully examined your face, and attempted to hug you, but you didn’t accept the offer which made your mother frown. She stopped walking until she was almost face to face with you and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Baby, your sister told me that you weren’t happy. Is this true?”
You looked away from her and stared dully at the floor, subtly shifting your feet, then you softly shook your head “no.”
“See Akira, Y/N is happy. So please stop stressing her out.” Your mother said through gritted teeth, then faced you once again. “Y/N honey, how about I go tuck you into bed, hm? I’m so sorry for the excessive noise that was caused.”
“Mom, how clueless can you be? Y/N looks miserable! It’s unhealthy for Y/N to be living-“
Slap.
Your mother just slapped Akira on the face.
“I know what’s best for my daughter! I am her mother! You are not the one who should be telling me how to take care of my own kid!”
“That’s enough, Sakiya.” a familiar voice said from the door.
“Fumeiko-“
“It’s fine. Sakiya, we need to talk.” It was Fumeiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, also known as your next door neighbor. She had been standing in the hallways the whole time, you didn’t even know she was there. Akira was the one who called her over.
That night your mother agreed to get help for her drinking problem. She was gone for 6 months. During those 6 months, the Suna’s took you in since Akira would be in college and you couldn’t have been more grateful.
You and Rintaro were the only kids in the house, being that you both were the same age and the others were in college. It was okay, they were all very polite, dinners were awkward, you could feel some sort of tension between the family but you didn’t pay any attention to it.
When your mom finally came back, it was awkward at first. She still seemed the same, loving and caring, just sober and free of alcohol. It was nice. You two spent the weekends bonding at the mall, watching a movie, or even getting your nails done. Eventually, she gained your trust back, and you couldn’t have been happier.
January 2017.
“Akira, don’t say that. You may not believe me now, but you are such an amazing person, don’t ever think you’ll never find love again. It’s all about having a positive mindset!” you said, thoughtfully stroking her hair as her head laid on your chest.
“I told you that.”
“You did,” you chuckled, “you should take your own advice.
“Oh, shut up!” you both laughed, and Akira let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Of course, you don't need to thank me. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
— so this is one of the writings that i wrote in January 😭 it’s been in my drafts and i re-read it once and instantly hated it right after. if there’s any typos please tell me!!
— also i wanna apologize again for putting gmds on hiatus,, i feel so bad 😭 i wanna make it up to you guys but idk how so if you have suggestions pls tell me
#suna rintaro#suna angst#suna rintaro imagine#suna imagines#suna x y/n#hq suna#suna smau#suna headcanons#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu masterlist#haikyuu!!#haikyuu suna#hq imagines#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#haikyuu series#suna rintaro angst#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#sunarin#inarizaki suna#haikyuu x reader smau#kenma smau#kuroo smau#kenma x reader#hinata x reader#kozume kenma#akaashi smau#akaashi x reader#kuroo x reader
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Jax Teller: How to Suck a Dick
A/N: Because that Jax quote “teach you how to suck a dick” made me fucking implode and just needs to be written into a fic 🥵 Reader is a badass bitch in this, but ends up on her knees in front of him because she can’t resist...
Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader
Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, Jax being bossy as fuck as you give him a blowjob (obvs)
Word Count: ~2.5k
What kind of suck-ass town goes by the name of Charming, you can’t help but think, rolling your eyes with an exasperated sigh as you drive by the tacky welcome sign. This has to be the most pathetic gig you’ve ever been assigned. It just feels wrong. You haven’t been an ATF agent for long, but even though you’re new and young, you have already been established as the baddest bitch in your entire unit. And yet here you are stuck in some redneck dump, America’s goddamned armpit. This is absolute bullshit. Fucking bullshit.
Your team had decided to send you in since the first agent assigned here was royally screwing it up. How is that even possible with such a pointless job? Apparently Charming’s problem is a wannabe gang of white trash biker boys who like riding around town all day just to make noise and show off their big shiny toys.
When you arrive on the scene to take over the case from your idiot colleague, you’re hardly surprised to find him in a close confrontation with one of those guys. One of those dickhead bikers for sure—you can tell from the crude, cocky sound of his voice.
You can’t see much of him from where your car is pulling in. Just a leather vest and loose jeans and a dumb blonde I-don’t-care haircut that he must think makes him look so fucking cool. God, what a tool.
As you step out of the driver’s seat and strut toward the two men, you hear the biker hurling insults at your fellow agent. “They teach you how to suck a dick in ATF school?”
Reaching for your badge as you approach, you’re all prepared to whip it out with class and grace, and put the damn fool in his place. “No, but they taught us how to...” your voice then catches in your throat, when you lay eyes for the first time upon his face—the badge immediately slips out of your grip, one word stuttering off your lips. “... f-fuck.”
So much for class and grace. No such luck.
The bastard’s stupidly blue eyes flash up toward you, somehow piercing through your clothes, and you are seriously screwed. He’s not gonna let you live down how you finished that sentence with ‘fuck’ just a second ago. “Oh, is that so?”
Oh shit. Oh no. Do you have legal clearance to shoot him just for his audaciously gorgeous appearance? You hope so. That’d be such a waste of a fine piece of ass, though...
The golden boy shamelessly checks you out up and down, gaze twinkling, drinking you in. Then proceeds to remind you about the embarrassing fumble that just happened. “Looks like you dropped something, darlin’....”
Darlin’?? Darlin’?!?!? Ugh, the fucking nerve of him! You clear your throat, trying and failing to compose yourself. Glance at the badge that had so clumsily tumbled onto the road. “Yeah, I—uh... I saw.”
“Nah, not the badge. No one cares about that,” he goes on with a mischievous smirk and a shake of his painfully pretty head. “I meant your jaw.”
At that, your jaw drops even further for a minute. Fucking shit. This guy is radiating so much big dick energy you cannot even handle it.
You want to, though. You want to handle all of it. And he already knows.
“Let me get that for ya.” He gestures down casually at your badge on the street. “Bet you’d like that, huh? Squat down and give you an excuse to check out my ass, too?”
Oh, this is too much. Your sense of self-righteousness bubbles to the surface and erupts. “Listen, you—”
“Think you can tell me what to do?”
“Damn right.”
“Darlin’, I’d like to see you try.”
“You call me darlin’ one more time and I...”
Meanwhile the other fed is standing by, speechless and shooting you some mad side-eye.
The biker interrupts. “You’ll what?”
The thirst you feel for him is so real that you’re bound to lose this battle, choking on a puddle of your own drool, if you try to keep this up. So you just bend down to retrieve your badge and play it cool, keeping your stupid mouth shut.
But then the motherfucker has the nerve to say the hottest goddamn thing you’ve ever heard. “Yeah, that’s right. Shut up and bend over, slut.”
At this point your pussy is throbbing in heat. You’re lucky that you somehow manage not to trip over your own feet and fall facedown on the street.
The other agent finally speaks up in your defense. You wish he wouldn’t. “Look here, asshole—I know you’ve got a massive problem with authority and all, but she...”
“Problem with authority? Oh, I don’t got a problem when it looks that pretty.” The biker’s blue eyes are on you again as you stand up unsteadily, struggling to gather up your dignity. “I just need both of you to know you ain’t got nothing on SAMCRO. Sure as hell ain’t got shit on me.”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” you huff, casually whipping out a pair of handcuffs, hoping you can channel your inner boss bitch back again. “This case is mine now and I’m here to bring your dumb ass in for questioning. So you’re gonna stow that big overgrown ego and come with me to the station. Don’t make me use these.”
The glint of metal from the cuffs reflects and sparkles in those gorgeous eyes of his, as if they weren’t already sparkling enough. “Ohh, what a tease...” he banters playfully. “You know before the day is over you’re the one who’s gonna end up on your knees?”
Of course you know. You know exactly how this day is gonna go. This badass biker stud is gonna turn you into his cocksucking slut and teach you how to blow him till you fucking choke.
***************
Two minutes later, you and Jax Teller—even his name, as you found out along the way, is hot as hell—are pulling up into the nearest motel.
“Well, well,” he snickers from the backseat of your squad car, no doubt picking up on how painfully horny you are. “So much for heading to the station...”
“Shut up. I’m impatient.”
“Since when do feds take care of questioning in crap motels, darlin’?”
“I told you not to call me that again.”
“You think I’d listen?”
No, of course you didn’t.
Two more minutes later and you’re finally in a room alone with him. Burning with the desire to rip his clothes off and devour him limb from limb...
Jax shuts the door and swaggers over toward you. “So tell me, agent. What’d you bring me here to do?”
God, that cunt-soaking smirk on his face is awakening all of your deepest kinks. “What do you think?”
“Well, we both know it ain’t for questioning...” he reckons, walking up to where you’re standing. “I think it has something to do with you hearing me talk about teaching you how to suck dick.”
You visibly squirm at the sound of him saying those words again. “Oh, you cocky son of a bitch...”
His smirk widens into a grin, as he comes closer, close enough for you to feel the heat of him against your skin. “I put the cock in cocky, baby.”
Ugh, shut up and put that cock in me.
You don’t say that out loud, not yet; instead you summon all the strength you have to step back just a bit, standing with both hands on your hips. Pretending while you can that you are still the boss. “Okay, hot shot. Enough talk—time to show me what you got. Let’s see.”
Jax doesn’t waste another minute. Licks his sinfully pink lips, already getting off on just how desperate you are for this. “All right, darlin’. If you insist...”
The next few seconds feel like a slow-motion blur, of blue jeans and white boxers falling to the floor. You’re already panting like a whore. Eager for all your wildest wet dreams to come true...
There are no words for the sensation that consumes you as Jax Teller’s cock finally comes into view. It’s motherfucking huge. And not just big—it’s goddamn stunning—the most perfect shade of pink, heavy and thick, prominent veins coursing along its luscious length, exuding raw power and strength... In every way, it’s even more amazing than you had imagined.
And it shows. Jax Teller knows that his cock is perfection and that he’s a god among men. Calls you out on your gawking reaction. “There goes that jaw dropping again.”
You roll your eyes at that, though honestly they were already rolling in bliss to the back of your head. “You and my jaw... what’re you gonna fucking do about it, huh?”
He comes closer, dominating you already with the force of his blue gaze, your heartbeat hastening with every word he says and every move he makes. “Fuck your face till it breaks.”
That’s all it takes. Next thing you know you’re on your knees, just as he knew you would inevitably be. “Oh God, yes, please...”
With one strong hand he takes a firm grip of your head, the other wrapped around his dick, to keep its distance from your lips, leaving your gaping mouth just hanging in the space between his legs. “Darlin’, you’re gonna have to beg.”
Oh fuck—you need him now, so bad you can’t...
Jax goads you on. “That’s step one. Tell me what you want.”
Whatever words you’re even capable of forming, you just blurt them out. “I want that big beautiful cock inside my mouth. Right fucking now.”
“Think you deserve this dick?”
You honestly don’t give a shit. “I need it—”
“Greedy bitch,” he teases, swiping it against your lips, letting your tongue flick out to slurp all over it and lick the sweet droplet of precum off the tip.
One lick and you’re a fucking addict. “Holy shit, Jax... dick is not supposed to taste like that.”
He lets out a cocky rumble of a laugh. “Like what? Best piece of meat you ever had?”
“God, you are so bad...”
“Look who’s talkin’, slut,” he says. “Federal agent on your fucking knees in front of me. Supposed to be working a case, instead you’re begging me to fuck your filthy whore face.”
You’ve never heard anyone talk so goddamn dirty. Fuck, it’s making you so thirsty. You go on begging for just a few more seconds, till Jax finally thinks you're worthy, though you know that really nobody could ever be.
He talks you through step two: using your tongue and lips to literally worship his entire dick, from base to tip, kissing and licking every fucking perfect inch of it, slicking it up with a sloppy mess of juices, his delicious precum mixed in with the flood of your own spit.
And when it’s time for step three... finally... you’re so excited you can barely breathe. Soon you won’t be able to breathe at all—and you don’t want to be. You want your nose grinding into those gorgeous golden curls right at the base, your lower lip smashed up against his sweaty balls, inhaling his intoxicating musky scent as you savor the taste, the smell and flavor of Jax Teller as he drives his dick deep down your throat and fucks your fucking face.
He’s so enormous that you can’t manage it right away. He teases you at first, knowing you like the way it hurts, then teaches you until it works. It’s so insanely hot the way he fucking smirks, as he shows you just how to power through your gag reflex till it doesn’t exist. To take his throbbing cock deeper and deeper down your eager throat with each thrust of his hips, his thick girth smothering your tongue and stretching out your lips.
The more he dominates your face, the more completely you submit. He’s blowing your mind way more than you’re blowing his. You can't even begin to wrap your head around this state of total bliss.
Literal heaven on earth is what it is.
When Jax is ready to explode... nothing could ever have prepared you for the feeling of his load, as it pumps straight into your throat. His massive dick convulses on your tongue with each powerful pulse of white hot cum, creamy and thick, rope after rope, every drop made to be swallowed. You struggle to gulp it all down as you splutter and choke. High on the way it feels and tastes. Jax holds your head firmly in place, his breathing heaving out in heated gasps and groans, in rhythm with your stifled moans, until he’s finally finished with your face.
Then there’s step four—to thank him for the privilege of being used as his cocksucking whore. You end up doing that before he even tells you. On instinct you already knew. Which earns you some well-deserved praise.
“That’s a good little slut,” he says, smiling as he pulls out of your slobbery mouth with a gratified grunt, softly slapping the tip of his satisfied dick on your face, and then flopping down onto the floor alongside you as you both come down from your sex-induced daze.
Once your senses are clear again, somewhat, you glance at the clock. You’re an important woman with places to be. But with Jax you are—much more importantly—just a cheap slut who needs more of that big beautiful perfect cock...
Jax speaks up just then, seeming to read all the thoughts and needs swirling around in your head. “So you said... ATF school taught you how to fuck?”
You sigh and roll your eyes, wishing you could take back that stupid slip-up, from when you two had first met. You do not like to be mocked. But he won’t let you forget. So you force yourself off of the floor, with half a mind to gather up your stuff and head right out the door. “Ugh, shut up...” you grumble at him as you cling to your deluded sense of pride.
The sexy motherfucker chuckles in a pussy-slaying way that gets you all fucked up inside. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “Hey, just sayin’, darlin’—look, I taught you how to suck... now it’s your turn to teach me something, don’t you think?”
Well, when Jax Teller puts it like that... it’d be no use to try to deny him. He knows you need more of him, bad. You’re finding, in fact, that you don’t even mind the whole darlin’ thing.
Honestly, you’re warming up to this shithole called Charming. This really feels like the beginning of a profitable bond between SAMCRO and ATF. Even if the entire bond is built on Jax fucking your face... and maybe finding other ways to get each other off.
You smile back at him and shrug. “Fair enough.”
“Damn right,” he replies with a devilish glint in his eyes, so damn hot you could die. “Take me to bed, you dirty little fed. And bring the cuffs.”
***************
Thank you for reading!! ❤️
Writing and sharing smut on here is seriously so much fucking fun... I hope to continue, and hope you're enjoying the stuff I write! Really love hearing from you if you do 🤗
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#jax teller#soa#sons of anarchy#charlie hunnam#jax teller smut#soa smut#sons of anarchy smut#charlie hunnam smut#jax teller fanfiction#soa fanfiction#sons of anarchy fanfiction#charlie hunnam fanfiction#jax teller imagine#soa imagine#sons of anarchy imagine#charlie hunnam imagine#jax teller x reader#jax teller x you#charlie hunnam x reader#charlie hunnam x you
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The great book of sayings
PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader
SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.
Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.
WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut, dirty talking.
A/N: This chapter is shameless smut, you are warned. Minors do not interact. go and read a book or something.
Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.As always, let me know what you think!
________________________________________________
Chapter 14 / Chapter 15
Lovers ever run before the clock.
Overhaul really is just an uptight pretentious asshole, but Tomura lets his insulting remarks slide, trying his utter best not to snap.
He was supposed to be in a good mood today, but by the time Chronostasis puts the gun against his white locks, he swears that he will do anything in his power to completely ruin Shie Hassakai for this mess, already struggling to keep his temper at bay.
“I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.”
He’s never one to get distracted but it is difficult to stay focus when he cannot erase the feeling of her thighs caging his hips, her words rumbling inside his brain like a prayer for him to come back and take what’s already his.
It enrages him far more than he would like to admit, but he can’t go back if he gets killed, can’t he?
Luckily for them, Tomura kinda lacks that self-preservation impulse at the face of danger, so he stays there completely stoic and delightfully petty between Chisaki and the gun. The thought of her crying because he got his pretty brains scattered all over the Shie Hassakai immaculate floor makes him realize that he has yet another reason to hate Overhaul.
Really, what’s the matter with these people? they just keep adding points to their list, but sure, he will work with what he has (as always) by sending Toga and Twice into their ranks to gain some reliability after Chisaki told him about this ridiculous plan of curing society of quirks like it’s an illness.
And he thought que was an extremist.
It’s a dumb concept, really. People decide to be assholes, to be heroes, villains and such. There is a choice in excluding those like him from society meanwhile hero violence is idolized. But quirks? People don’t get to choose. Shit just happens. You can develop a cute little nice quirk that allows you to make bubbles or something ridiculous like, dunno, destroying everything you touch; but people can help it, it’s just the way it is. Nobody asks for it. Not even Overhaul, not even him.
And, even when Tomura can understand what Overhaul is saying about society being unfair based on quirks, his plan still sounds pretty nonsensical to him, who wants to destroy everything with his own hands, after all is that why he was born with such deadly weapon at the reach of his fingers. It would be nothing short but hypocritical and, despite the irony, he likes to think of himself as an honest person. His goal clashes directly with Overhaul’s, so no, he will keep the league interests to himself and for now will trust Toga and Twice to do what they do best without rising any suspicion about what he’s up to. Chisaki is more stupid tan he looks if he thinks Tomura will make blind eye to the audacity of his challenge and his continuous lack of propriety.
Oh, poor Overhaul. He doesn’t know it yet, but he already lost.
In the meantime, he’ll keep himself busy on more important and exciting matters. Hating Overhaul is something he can use as a motivation for more than just inner monologue, because you see, Tomura has a revenge to plan and a truck to steal.
_____________
Things are different next time he sees you. Something primal and strange born from a sick sense of belonging that fills your interactions after the night you slept together, soothing his temper and bitterness into something warmer and far more intense that pulls and twist and burns to be close to each other.
It's been four days since they left the apartment to prepare the backhand against Overhaul and Tomura is sure that by that hour tomorrow Overhaul will have failed, leaving him as the great winner of his sensei’s title. (Not that he ever needed to prove it, but if Overhaul wanted to pick a fight, he would not be the one to deny his wishes.)
Tonight, however, has nothing to do with all that, not when he’s finally back.
You’ve been waiting for his return by the window, searching for his frame in every shadow, a mug of chocolate warming your hands as the soup simmered over the stove. A warm meal made for him every night in case he decided to return, guessing he would be hungry and cold, wondering if it isn’t too much (but you care for him, so you do it anyway).
A supposition that turned out to be true, but Tomura had another solution in mind.
He’s a starving dog all hunger and demand, a wild vicious thing that looks at you feral and maddened, dripping with want and something far scarier that you don’t dare to name (but you do know, don’t you?).
You are no better than him, not when your fingers had traced patterns with his name across your body, spelling dreams and fantasies from your lips, remembering the way his fingers filled you and you wonder if he touched himself thinking about you too. The answer comes rather messy the moment his jagged mouth whimpers how much he missed you between whispers and moans that to you sound like poetry.
And he takes and takes and takes with deaf hands and sharp teeth, leaving bruises with the shape of his fingertips burned all over you as he bites and scratch and pull-out whimpers and pants from your mouth that echoes the frantic tune of his heart slamming against his ribs because he missed you so much it was painful.
So, he had kissed you feverish, stomping you against the wall desperate and needing for your attention until you had pull him by the neck of his shirt to drag him into the bedroom, his brain completely forgetting about Overhaul’s existence the moment you push him to the edge of the mattress to sit in his lap, pulling the hem of his shirt for him to take it off, too focused in the heat prints your hands leave on his pale shoulders as something roars inside of his chest urging him to imprint his existence on your skin and possess the being that lives inside your bones.
Tomura paints a plethora of purple kisses over your neck and chest as a mark of his touch and your belonging. Something dark and twisted reverbing inside his ribs, inside his brain.
Mine; his mind repeats over and over again until he’s dizzied from the words, drunk in touch as your hands slither all over his sides, his chest and shoulders. His eyes marveling in the way skin holds together every angle of your flesh and the parts where your bones show from inside of your figure when he finally takes off your dress.
So soft, so beautiful and all his.
His kisses become raw and sharp and painful like the electric bond that ties you together by the ribs, all roughness and need, bruising lips and sinking teeth. Your moans and pants mixing now and then with some pained yelps and hisses of his name to call out on his harshness, but he chooses to make deaf ears to your pleas, too busy trying to gorge on your taste.
His teeth sink on your skin leaving marks like crescent moons that he kisses after you cry, pleasure and need pooling between your thighs, a tightness that burn inside your belly as you tangle your fingers in his hair, thinking briefly between the fog of your thoughts that it has grown, that it looks painfully beautiful on him like a crown of silver and moonlight.
Soon enough your legs lock around his bony hips, the choir of soft mewls and pants has become something far more animal; cries filling the room with each touch. White underwear remaining as the last barrier to your skin, leaving a wet stain over the fabric of his jeans.
The room turns unbearable warm as your kisses become more slopy and open, letting him take your mouth just how he likes it as he registers the way the skin of your torso presses against his bare chest, your warmth spreading over, suffocating him.
Hooking a finger on your bra cup, Tomura pulls down and reveals the flesh hidden under the layers of lace, deciding already that this is his favorite image of you. Covered in love marks, wet and underwear ruined, your bra tucked under the curb of your breast. Something obscene and desperate about it, more crude than mere nakedness and it’s exactly how he likes it.
It looks lewd, it looks nasty. It looks like everything he wants to make of you, so he tightens his hold on your waist, making your back curve a little up to latch his mouth to your breast, sucking hard enough to draw a loud moan from your lips as you dig your nails on the muscle of his arms, delight shooting through your spine.
“Ow…fuck…” you pant with each pull of his mouth, and he chuckles darkly against your chest, amused and smug because he has you and he knows it, a sinister part of him (the vengeful scary one that wants to kill and maim and destroy) screaming that you belong to him from now on, that you’ll never leave, that he’ll never let you.
Mine, and mine alone he thinks and the thought sounds jarring and loud inside his head as he leaves bruises all over the skin that surround the buds of your chest, making you gasp over his lap.
“What? Wanna say something?” Tomura teases watching your expression, your eyes going wide the moment he slides your panties to the side and press his fingers inside you without warning.
“T-oh…Tomura…fuck…ow” you try to articulate but the words come out as blurred whispers.
“No bickering now?”
“Oh god…Tomura…please” you cry trembling, mouth watering with every touch of his palm over your nerve.
“Please what.”
You hide your face on the crook of his neck to bite him hard enough to make him bark an excited laugh, rejoicing in the fact that you are marking him too, before hooking his fingers inside you to make you moan loudly; hips moving automatically as one of your hands reach the hem of his pants and unbuttons his jeans to touch him back.
“I want you inside.”
He lets out a pretty hiss the moment your fist close around his length, caressing him tentatively until finding a pace, giving you a little victory over his rough teasing.
“I wanna tear you apart” he growls reaching deep inside of you, a wolf like grin slicing across his face baring his sharp teeth “you are a mess. All wet and begging for me to fuck you.”
“Tomura…”
“Fuck…you are so wet, all for me…my good girl, my good girl.” The words pour out of his mouth in feverish tone as his other hand clear the hair off your face before catching your lips on his again.
“Tomura, please…”
He snaps, turning you onto the mattress to climb over your body, throwing his jeans to the floor before leaning between your thighs as his hardness brushes over your clothed center. His patience has run thin though, so he yanks the panties by one side, closing all five fingers over the piece of fabric that flews to the floor before transforming into dust.
He lines up with your center, feeling the intimate touch before thrusting deep into you, ripping out a high moan that makes your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving scratching marks all over his pale skin in an attempt to steady yourself as your walls burn with the stretching.
No, he isn’t gentle this time, he just can’t bring himself to be soft when he feels like the awful infatuation he’s been harboring inside is about to tear his ribs open, pouring out for everyone to see the bloody mess you’ve made of his heart. So, he thrust hard like punishing you for it, snaping his hips fast and deep into you, trying to leave a bruise mark inside as well as one of his hands tangles between your hair, pulling and making you scream to the rhythm of your creaking bed.
He bottoms out the moment his arm hooks under your knee, as you tangle your other leg over his waist, giving him deepest access into you, his tip planting kisses against your cervix, rough friction and raw closeness sending you over the edge because he’s fucking you hard, making sure your screaming can be heard from the hall of the building.
It's brutal, yet you give him everything he wants and more because you like it like this, you like it because is him. The warmth of his body covering yours and you wonder if he can feel it too.
The terrific need of holding onto his body, his wicked smile, his bruised heart. The horror of your attachment to a person like him and what this represents, at the brim of ruining your life for love…
Love.
You are so in love with him.
“Look at me” he demands pulling your hair, a feral snarl across his sharp face darkening his features before kissing you hard, his tongue filling your mouth in lewd motion. “Fuck, you are so tight…I wanna split you in half.” His voice is a coarse and maddened sound against your lips, so close and intimate it’s scary because he’s sinking so deep it feels like he’s trying to rearrange your insides and his words do nothing but intensify the heat.
“Fuck…Tomura…it hurst…you’re so rough…so rough” You manage to blurt out, eyes boring into his.
“And you love it, don’t you?” he snarls tightening the grip on your hair. “You like how it feels…like I’m gonna split your pretty cunt in two. Huh? Say it, say it…”
“Fuck…yes…yes”
“Yes what.” He barks in a particularly harsh thrust that makes you scream like a wildling.
“I love it…fuck…like that…I love it…I love it.”
“You are mine…you hear me?” he prays over your mouth half ordering, half begging for you to go down with it and say that yes, that you’ll never leave him, that you’ll stay with him “All mine to fuck, mine, mine, mine, MINE!” he growls with every thrust as the bed slams hard against the wall until you are a babbling incoherent mess.
His brutal pace and words get you quiet soon, too much to even make a sound and hardly even allowing you to breathe, too concentrated in the feeling of his length and him smashing into your ending wall as the overwhelming touch of his hips and his abdomen on yours burns your skin.
The brush of his hair and ragged breathing fanning over your cheek is the only compass of time while the tightness in your belly threatens to snap the moment your teary eyes meet his, mouth on mouth without even kiss, but you smile to him, your warm hand caressing softly the skin of his jaw as he tears into you, feeling incapable of telling him what the voice of your mind has been playing over and over again.
I’m in love with you.
Like sensing your thoughts, his hands abandon your hair. Four trembling fingers cuddling your cheek, carefully and almost scared before closing his eyes, letting his forehead rest on yours as he whispers sweet words of praise only for you to keep, still forcing himself in and out of you. His mouth watering to the sight of your bouncing breast still trapped by your bra.
“ow…I’m gonna..Tomura…I’m gonna…”
The snap of his hips become erratic when finally you come undone on him, eyes rolling back and a cry that tears your throat open when your walls clench around his hardness making him moan as he keeps thrusting in and out, reaching his own end soon after; his hand closing tightly into a fist over the mattress as he grunts with his face hidden on the crook of your neck, filling you warm and slick until he goes soft inside of you.
Tomura pulls out and rests his head on your chest, his heart hammering against your belly, still trying to catch his breath; his fingers tracing mindless patterns over the shape of your waist, as your hands slide between the tangled locks of silver, lips laying little pecks over his crown.
Time slows down, minutes passing and quiet settles, he notices.
Quiet inside of him.
This is all he wanted from the moment he crossed the umbral of your door months ago. The insufferable itch silenced by the calming thump of your heart, fluttering softly behind the gate of your ribs and he wonders if maybe you’d have a room by your core where he could lay his bones to finally rest for a minute from all the rage and hate that burdens him.
Maybe you do have one, hidden and unspoken, a mirror of the one you occupy in the graveyard of his chest where he holds you beautiful and bright and…everything he doesn’t get to hate.
Yeah, he thinks you do. After all, he’s lying in your arms, isn’t it? You had caressed his face and marked his neck and back, all teeth and nails, to then crown him with a wreath of kisses, your body soft and still under his weight, while your hands brush carefully through his scalp.
He knows the feeling, he’s not stupid…but he doesn’t get to speak its name yet.
Is not that bad, after all. Being attached to you and the lullaby of your heartbeat could make him better, smarter, stronger. You could be another reason to fight and destroy. After all, in a society as rotten as this one, you’ll never be allowed to walk by his side if not by putting a bounty on your head too.
What the media would say about you? Would they catalog you as an S class villain? since your quirk is as deadly as it gets, you would be feared and hated. You can practically kill by just looking at someone and he’s not even sure if you really need to look to your target, after all.
And yet you are the kindest person he knows. If someone of the hero commission knew about this, you’d be hunted down despite your service as a doctor, despite your resolution to help whoever needs it, despite caring for those rotten and downthrown. And since you are critical of the system, you’d be reduced to just another animal to put down. Just like him.
Tomura swears he’ll decay every single person on the world before let that happen.
“Tomura…”
He rises his head to look at you, a question drawn across his face.
“Can you…move a little? My bra is killing me.”
“Ow…sorry about that.” He apologizes, curious eyes over the mark that the elastic has left over your skin as he sits by your side.
“Can you help me? I can’t reach the clip…”
“Sure…”
You bend over to give him better access to your back, feeling his fingers brush over your skin carefully, before liberating you from the elastic straps incrusted on your flesh.
Tomura leans forward, placing soft kisses between your shoulder blades, letting his forehead rest over your spine and the touch is so sweet that it makes you wonder if maybe he does feel the same as you.
You get your answer when his hand moves forward to cup your breast, middle finger carefully up, as the other slides down between your thighs, making you sigh, feeling his hardness brushing your hip.
He nuzzles against your cheek, until you turn to kiss him deeply, warmth pooling between your legs again as his fingers play lazy between your slick entrance and the bundle of nerves. This time though, you take your chance and turn over, sitting on top before taking his wrist to lay kisses over the soft skin of his pulse.
Your quirk flares alive and before Tomura gets to catch on your intentions, his hands stand secured high against the headboard.
“What the…ow fuck!” He moans the moment your hand close over his length, pumping until he’s losing his breath, a ragged laugh scaping his jagged lips “fuck…you are an evil woman.”
“I should be proud if you say so.”
You accommodate over him, lowering until he fills you, pushing his previous release deeper into you.
Your pacing is torturingly slow and intense, soft moans and sweet whispers between languid kissed. Tomura watches hypnotized how your hips ride over the place you two connect, his crimson eyes half lidded as he lets you take him, before finally releasing your hold.
He touches you carefully this time, palming over the curve of your hipbone and your belly, index finger up as he wonders how deep is he, trying to feel himself from the outside, before pushing down to sink deeper into you, hitting the fragile spot where he makes you cry.
“I like you like this…” he speaks softly, looking you up from behind his eyelashes as you ride him slowly.
“How” your word is a whisper against his lips.
“Bare…” he rasps, his voice luring you into his embrace, spilling sweet nothing into his ear as he mumbles over and over again.
“My good girl…you are so good for me…”
This time you reach your peak softly. A sweet thing that fills you gently; walls fluttering around his oversensitive length while you keep rocking him until he stuffs you again, finally both falling back into the mattress side to side, already drifting into sleep, both tired and content.
A light touch catches your attention before falling unconscious. Tomura´s pinky hooks on yours as a silent plea, so you spill a peck over his shoulder before resting your temple on it, a sweet gesture that makes his heart tremble with fear and excitement for all the right reasons.
So, he does what he wants, sliding his arm under your neck and moving your head to rest on his chest. Over his heart he lays a fist for you to grip gently by the wrist before finally crowning you with soft kisses as the steady beat of his heart lulls you to dream.
Chapter 16 (soon)
#shigaraki x reader#tomura x reader#bnh fanfic#self insert#shigaraki tomura#tenko shimura#shigaraki x you
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~*ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ OᑎE*~
warnings: alcohol consumption, oral sex
words: 2.8k
Prologue
-
Perhaps you should’ve have taken Daki more seriously. After that fateful night at the so-called gathering, she’s become adamant on getting you hooked onto the luxurious life. Frankly, you thought the rest of the night was a bore, watching rich people mill about, talking to each other about issues that you could wish to understand. The only thing that really kept you going was the company of your best friend and the delicious edibles set on the many tables.
Time and time again, Daki brought up the encounter you had with Idris’ friends – could they even be called that? She gushed about how handsome Rengoku Kyojuro was, how darling it would be to hang off his arm. You noticed the suggestive hint to her tone; you knew exactly where her train of thoughts was going, and you’d be damned if she acted upon them.
In fact, you’re entirely positive that she’s planning on whisking you into her lifestyle. Even now, as you sit in some one-roomed, slinky club, she taps a manicured finger against her chin. The place itself is dripping with wealth, from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the clusters of velvet chairs, right down to the mahogany bar you sit at. You don’t have the slightest clue how Daki knows of a place like this, but – judging from the few other patrons acquainting the place – it’s meant for those types of meetings. You have the slightest inkling that this is where she met Idris in the first place.
Glancing over at her, you can understand why Idris was drawn to her in the first place; of course, Daki has always been insanely beautiful, but her sense of fashion is impeccable. Combined with her short skirt and the thick platforms on her feet, her legs are long, soft. She looks like she just came off straight off a runway; she might as well have, if the big Chanel logo on her beret hints at anything. She’s perfect sugar baby material, and you’d be lying if you’d say you didn’t respect her for pulling off such a feat.
“Mitsuri really liked you,” Daki’s saying. You snap back to attention, mentally cursing yourself out for getting lost in your thoughts. “She thinks you’re really pretty, too.”
Ah, Kanroji Mitsuri: renowned fashion designer and easily one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever met. Her welcoming, bubbly personality had definitely struck a chord inside you, and you were more than thankful that she had been so nice. Hearing something like that, though… Well…
Staring down at your wine, you swirl the deep red fluid around in your glass. “She’s just being nice,” you say, deflecting the compliment. You didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing.
Rolling her eyes, Daki pops a grape into her mouth and waggles a finger at you. “Listen here, darling; Kanroji Mitsuri thinks you’re pretty. I wouldn’t take that so lightly.”
“You’re also drop dead gorgeous,” you shoot right back. “Of course you wouldn’t take it so lightly.”
“You’re missing the point,” Daki says with a sigh. “An insanely hot and rich woman – who has a great personality, by the way – is interested in you. By the way you two were talking at the gathering, it’s almost like you two have known each other forever.”
Deciding to take the bait, you set your wineglass down and turn towards her. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Go on a date with her, obviously. I know Mitsuri will treat you right. And, if the night ends well…” Trailing off, she follows up with a giggle. “We’d be sugar sisters.”
“Come again?”
“Oh, come on, (y/n)! Think about how much fun it’ll be! Mitsuri will spoil you rotten and you’ll have mind-blowing sex.”
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the unexpected confession. Wait, did that mean…?
Daki flashes you a sly look. “What, you don’t think I only like men, do you? I may have fucked around with Mitsuri once or twice… But it was only a physical attraction, nothing more. Sometimes you just need to get with a woman.”
Embarrassment crawls up your neck at the mere idea of Daki and Mitsuri engaging in certain… activities. Warmth floods your system; you should be ashamed of thinking of your friend like that, but she did just tell you something you particularly didn’t want to know. And, truth be told, you are growing the slightest bit curious as to how Mitsuri’s like in bed…
A smirk pulls at the corners of Daki’s pretty mouth. She obviously knows what’s going on in your head – the two of you have been friends long enough for it to be second nature at this point. However, it still catches you by surprise as she fishes out a little piece of paper and slides it across the bar to you. “Since you’re clearly thinking about it, have her number,” she purrs. “I don’t think you’ll regret giving her a call.”
Taking the paper into your hands, you examine the neat, curly writing. You can imagine Mitsuri writing down the number, a flattering smile on her face. Your heart nearly skips a beat; did she really feel attracted to you? It’s just that, well, somebody at her social standing would usually stick to someone in the same group. You’re nowhere near it, so to have something like this happen… It’s kind of incredible.
You sigh. “Fuck it. I’ll call her.”
Daki eagerly claps her hands. “That’s my girl!”
-
On second thought, you might be regretting your decision.
Around you, the delicate clank of crystal glasses and fine platters intermingle with the soothing piano music. Other patrons talk amongst themselves, the slight murmur of dozens of voices reminding you of a hoard of bees. Some call out to the waiters passing by, wanting them to refill their glasses or get the check.
The dim, golden light makes the place ethereal, a heavenly glow surrounding everyone’s heads. Your hands glide over the spotless tablecloth, the pristine white of it practically mocking you. Jeez, if a single drop of wine spills on it, they’d probably just throw it away. Damn rich people and their ways – the mere idea of how much this tablecloth costs has your head spinning.
“You don’t have to look so scared,” Mitsuri says. “Believe it or not, but everyone here is just like you.”
You nearly scoff at that. You want to tell her that no, nobody is like you. You’re not rich and swanky, not by a long shot. Besides, this is Kanroji Mitsuri you’re speaking to. She’s part of this crowd; and since she’s a renowned fashion designer with a fairly large following, she’s practically a celebrity.
“I find that hard to believe,” you mutter. Picking up your glass, you take a careful sip of water, not wanting to cause a spill and embarrass yourself.
It’s not helping your nerves in the slightest that Mitsuri looks the way she does; hair pulled into a high ponytail, a slinky dress with a plunging neckline, dangling earrings that reflect the soft golden light. You don’t want to be disrespectful and stare at her pure, creamy skin, but it’s so hard. She’s downright beautiful – breathtaking, even – and it’s a challenge to keep your head on straight.
Her green eyes practically light up at your comment, a light giggle passing through her plump lips. “Everyone feels the pressure, you know. The need to keep up a perfect façade. It’s a shame, really, how so many people in this room wear a mask constantly.” She sighs, then, leaning forward and perching an elbow on the table and resting her chin in her palm. “I’ll be truthful, darling. The very first moment I met you, I knew you’d be different. You’re not some stuck-up corporate brat who’s too deep in their own shit to know right from left anymore. It’s refreshing.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. She hit the nail right on the head; sure, the upper class are usually depicted as being entitled assholes, but to hear it from Mitsuri? That’s just gold. She joins in on your laughter, the sweet, tinkling sound gracing your ears. It’s actually incredible how comfortable you feel around her, despite only knowing her for a couple of days.
“Plus,” Mitsuri continues, her laughter dying down, “I think you’re really cute.”
Scoffing, you try to downplay the excited fluttering in your heart. She’s almost been gushing about how nice you look all night, how much of a pleasantry it was that Daki introduced the two of you. Even better, she was so freaking ecstatic that you called her. Okay, yeah, so maybe you’re interested in Mitsuri. Who wouldn’t be? With the personality of a puppy and the looks of a supermodel, how could anyone say no to her?
“Now you’re just spoiling me,” you tell her.
“What can I say?” Mitsuri replies, voice smooth. “You deserve to be spoiled.”
Shock floods your system, sucks almost all the air from your lungs. Jaw dropping, you gape at her, completely at a loss for words. It doesn’t matter, though; your waiter comes back with the meals the two of you’ve ordered, placing them down gently on the table and busying himself with pouring glasses of wine.
“Enjoy the meal, ladies,” he says, his thick accent flooding his words. With a polite bow, he takes his departure, stepping away with quick, precise movements.
Staring down at the food you ordered, your mouth begins to water. Even though you aren’t the biggest fan of these damned rich people, you’ve got to admit that you’re jealous of the things they eat. Like, look at this! This is something King Midas would eat himself!
“It’s almost as if you’ve never eaten before,” Mitsuri says along with another adorable giggle. “If that’s your reaction, then I’m going to have to take you to every high-end restaurant in town!”
“What? No! Mitsuri, you don’t have to do that!” you ramble. “It’s just… Well…”
“Oh, come on. I want to.” Mitsuri pauses, then, picking up her glass with slender fingers and taking a sip of her wine. “I agree with Daki, you know,” she continues, “I think the two of us could have a lot of fun together.”
“…I’m afraid I don’t understand…?”
Mitsuri casts a devious smile over the rim of her glass at you. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll find out soon enough.”
-
If you can recall it correctly, there’s a saying that would fit perfectly into this moment – blame it on the alcohol. Oh, but you’re not stupid. No, you at least have the guts to own up to your actions, as great or as stupid as they can be. That being said, you don’t want to admit to how desperate you’re feeling.
You didn’t doubt Daki for a single moment. As kind as she is beautiful, Mitsuri is the perfect package. She only managed to prove that point over and over again throughout the evening, swapping stories and genuinely taking the time to get to know you better. You still can’t believe she’s taken so much interest in you, but you aren’t going to complain about it any time soon. In fact, you’re glad that she’s into you.
Perhaps it was your tipsy mind that made you say yes; that’s what you want to believe, anyway. You don’t want to own up to the fact that you practically jumped at the opportunity of Mitsuri taking you home, to some swanky penthouse in one of the richest parts of the city. You barely had any time to gawk at the immaculate décor or overpriced furniture; no, what you got was a short tour as Mitsuri drug you off towards her bedroom.
The moments from there on out became nothing more than a blur. Clothing being slipped off, hands roaming over bare skin, the delicious heat of Mitsuri’s mouth. Your mind is still reeling from the turn of events, but you don’t have a single chance to think about it.
Heavy pants break through your lips, grace the still air in Mitsuri’s bedroom. The mattress is large, unforgivably so, topped with some of the softest blankets you’ve ever felt. Settled between your open legs, Mitsuri looks nothing short of perfection; long ponytail clutched in your grasp, her full eyelashes fluttering, the prettiest of blushes on her face, she’s a remarkable piece of art, reserved for your eyes only. The sounds spilling from between your legs is utterly sinful. Her lips and tongue eagerly work away at your sopping cunt, break down your walls until you’re a moaning mess.
“Fuck, Mitsuri,” you breathe, voice turning shrill towards the end. “That feels so good.”
Mitsuri moans at the praise, her manicured nails digging into the plush flesh of your thighs. Arching her back even more, you’re presented with a better view of her godly ass, the defined dimples on her back. She’s too gorgeous to handle, too fucking sexy. Giving her ponytail a yank, you relish in the pleased hum vibrating in the back of her throat.
“Naughty girl,” Misturi purrs as she pulls away. A mix of slick and smeared lipstick cover her lips, the lewd shine making your insides tighten. “I didn’t say you could do that, now did I?” The mere controlling tone of her voice causes another fat drop of slick to push its way out of your pussy. Eyes locking onto the sight, Mitsuri cracks a salacious smile. “Does baby girl like being talked down to?”
“Don’t… Don’t say it like that,” you whimper.
“I’m just speaking the truth,” Mitsuri purrs. “It’s not my fault this pretty little pussy likes it.” With her words, she traces a finger up and down your slit, collecting even more slick. Waggling the coated finger in your vision, she makes sure your eyes are on her before she slips it into her mouth, her swollen lips wrapping around it. “So tasty,” she moans. “So fucking sweet. You’re a real treat, you know that? It’s a shame Daki didn’t introduce us earlier.”
“Mitsuri-“
“Ah-ah-ah, don’t call me that,” she warns, the honey in her voice turning into something darker, heavier. You swallow thickly. “If you don’t mind, sweets… Call me Mommy. That is, unless you don’t want to cum? That works too.”
Oh, god, with an expression like that and her fingers playing with your sex, you’ll call her anything. “Mommy,” you murmur, “please.”
“Hmmm… What was that?”
Clenching the blankets between your fingers, you call out louder, “Mommy, please!” A loud gasp bursts from your throat, then, as Misturi shoves three fingers into you with no hesitation whatsoever. Her mouth descends on your clit once more, a pleased hum escaping her mouth at your sweet, sweet taste. Your hips buck into her wildly, your back arching off the mattress.
Mind clearing, vision turning fuzzy, your orgasm crashes over, your slick spilling all over her fingers and onto the blankets below. Mitsuri chuckles at that, seemingly pleased with both herself and your reaction. She keeps pressing on, though, her mouth and fingers working you through a second orgasm, and then a third. She’s relentless in her quest to make you cum over and over again, leaving you a shaking, crying mess of overstimulated nerves.
“Oh baby,” Mitsuri purrs once she pulls her mouth away. “You’re such a good girl to me, aren’t you? I’ll groom you real nice, shape you into something utterly perfect,” she continues, leaning in close and brushing her lips against your ear. “You’ll let me, won’t you? Come on, baby, let’s have some fun.” Shuffling up your body, she perches herself over your face, thick thighs encasing your head. “Be a darling and help me out, won’t you?”
“Yes, Mommy,” you coo. “Yes.”
-
In the end, Daki got what she wanted – a sugar sister.
Granted, you weren’t super eager to jump on the opportunity at first, but after some convincing from Mitsuri, you figured why not? As long as it’s with Mitsuri, there’s no harm, really. Plus, if you’re going to continue having incredible nights with her… Hell, of course you’re gonna agree!
“So, how did the date go?” Kyojuro’s voice rings through the phone. He sounds a bit too eager to hear the fine, juicy details.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mitsuri teases. Sitting comfortably next to you in bed, she scans her eyes of your sleeping form, at your bare arms and shoulders unhidden from the blankets. She smiles. “It went great, actually,” she says, voice gentle. “(y/n)’s incredible.”
“She’s a looker, too,” Kyojuro says. Even though Mitsuri can’t see him, she knows he’s smirking. “Real beauty.”
“Heh. It almost sounds like you want me to share her.”
Kyojuro huffs in amusement. “Now that sounds like a good idea. Even Tengen wouldn’t shut up about her after she left. Maybe if you’re feeling generous…?”
Running her fingers over your smooth skin, Mitsuri bites her lip. “…Maybe. If she wants to be shared, that’s up to her. Either way…” she trails off, gives a light giggle. “She’s great in bed.”
#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kny x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#demon slayer x reader#kny pillars#kny pillars x reader#kny hashira#kny hashira x reader#diamonds are a girl's best friend series
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*sigh* catch me projecting on a Saturday.
I read this post ( @lazybakerart you wizard - ALSO IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?????? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹) and am now thinking about a sugardaddy!Billy with an ace!Steve. (*emphasis on grey ace*)
* Please nobody attack me for writing about leather fashion. I’m vegetarian and it’s fiction. Live a little. *
Read on ao3 ~
🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹
Steve just kind of stared at the box on the restaurant table. It wasn’t a ring box, but it was velvet. Goodness knew how many of these he’d seen in his life.
Steve knew wealth. He knew money, and all of the material variations therein.
He’d gotten pedicures with his mother before his father declared such a thing unfit for a boy coming into puberty. If you look like a man, act like a man. As if men didn’t have feet, or something.
Then he went to the salon. That wasn’t so easy to take away. Ventures with her son seemed to be the only things keeping Mrs. Harrington from being connected to her husband’s hip, so Mr. Harrington let them both have this one. Steve, fresh out of graduation, being given a hairdresser’s chair to accomplish summer-fresh highlights.
Mrs. Harrington was also the type of woman to enjoy shoes. Everyone has a thing. For some, they had bags. Others, jewelry. Vintage furniture. Designer wallpaper. Mrs. Harrington enjoyed shoes. It was where Steve learned to carry a woman’s bags, but he didn’t stay outside of the store. He learned how to clean suede, the difference between a 130 So Kate and an ordinary heel. What fetish meant in terms of fashion. He can convert heels sizes in millimeters to inches faster than a cashier calculating change.
Tommy and Carol had joked about Steve’s father having a different kind of fetish. Nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with sex. Steve had foolishly let them into his mother’s bedroom and they were having a field day with a shoe closet that cost more than both of their houses combined. Still smelling of Nancy and pool chlorine, Steve as good as ended that friendship right there.
Because they didn’t get it.
Mr. Harrington certainly didn’t get it. Could never have such a sexual inclination because he didn’t understand pampering or indulgent interests.
He understood favors. Material apologies.
Mrs. Harrington had a collection of pearls and diamonds that she never wore.
Steve knew she liked opals and pink, pink rubies, because Steve liked opals too. Because he used his father’s money to buy ruby studs his mother actually wore. Because he gets her oldest, broken bracelet with green amber fixed, and she wears it until it breaks again. And then she presented Steve with a thin, gold chain to go around his ankle. With a gleaming, green amber stone flanked by two opals.
The green goes with our eyes, she said. Someone special will see the green in all that brown. It’s why we look good in reds.
Steve was still looking at the box on the table.
“It’s not going to catch fire, the longer you glare at it.”
His dark hazel, creek water eyes slanted up to the man sitting opposite him.
Billy Hargrove.
Stubborn to a fault. Gorgeous as Lucifer with wings freshly burnt off. And just as dangerous.
“I thought I said no more gifts.”
“And I ignored you. Open it.”
Steve went about it like ripping off a bandaid. He sighed at the window beside their booth, wrenching the thing open to see -
Diamonds.
He shut it with a loud clap and set it on Billy’s placemat. “No, thanks.”
The man’s features froze in tolerant stoicism, but he eased the box inside his suit jacket pocket. “You’re a hard one to shop for.”
Steve’s eyes widened dramatically over his wine glass of water. Not because he was sober - he’d willingly pay for an overpriced red, himself, if the handsome asshole weren’t trying to wave his wallet everywhere. “You can stop trying to buy your way into my pants any time you want.”
“If that’s all I wanted, I would’ve stopped three months ago.”
Three months ago,
When Billy breezed into Steve’s life as easily as he had senior year of high school. The two of them certainly deserved some kind of award for having a bizarre history.
Within a handful of months, Billy had arrived upon a turbulent time in Steve’s life, and then left nearly as quickly. Billy witnessed Steve and Nancy’s break-up, Steve’s fall from Hawkins High grace, and even beat his face a little bit. Because that’s what teenage men with bad emotional processing and even worse communication skills do.
Now, almost ten years later, Billy had some kind of empire behind him and Steve, well, didn’t. He had no idea what Billy’s job consisted of, but he got little hints. Mostly the negative space from Billy’s lack of discussing his job told Steve a whole lot.
Steve, who worked two jobs and occasional gigs wherever he was needed. During one such time, while Steve managed the cables and sound boards for Robin’s band, Billy Hargrove sauntered up to him with just as much charm mixed with hauteur as he’d ever displayed.
It wasn’t like meeting an old friend, because they had never been more than acquaintances, and roughly ten years was enough time for a personality to evolve ten different ways.
Steve couldn’t say how much he and Billy had evolved, really, but there was a point in there somewhere.
Maybe it lived in the, “I never expected to see you in a dyke club, pretty boy,” since it was all the coming out either of them needed.
Or the wanton kisses and fervent hands underneath the neon rainbow on the venue’s wall.
Maybe the point sat in the things Billy wanted, and what Steve was reticent to provide. Because Billy was a king who knew what he liked, and seemed particularly talented at walking into Steve’s personal crises like an anniversary.
Steve craved.
But he didn’t know what he craved. What he yearned for. He knew Billy’s kisses made his brain go molten and fuzzy. He knew Billy’s smell brought him just as much comfort, excitement, and anxiety. He knew finally being outside of sex-crazed high school had deflated something in him. The expectations to perform. He knew losing Robin’s stupid game of You Rule / You Suck gave him a secret gift of relief.
But he still craved. He wanted touch but he wanted to be alone. He wanted companionship but he didn’t want sex. But he did enjoy sex, except he didn’t want the expectation of it.
Well.
That was it, wasn’t it?
Billy Hargrove, who could have anyone he wanted plastered to his stupid, unbuttoned chest, had sought out Steve. Steve, king of mixed signals, Harrington. It was only a matter of time before he got his face beaten again. For wasting Billy’s time. For refusing Billy’s advances even though Steve clearly enjoyed Billy’s lips on his neck, and Billy’s hand on his inner thigh. For wanting Billy’s company and flirtation without the rules that finished in the bedroom.
So Steve refused the gifts. The material favors he could’ve sold for a better apartment. Fucked his way to owning a house that his mom would feel comfortable visiting. Be an unfeeling toy who could pay for his mother’s shoes and his own pedicures.
“Steve?”
He turned away from the window and the city’s electric constellations. “Hm?”
“Where’d you go?”
The back of Steve’s throat ached. He looked down at their appetizer plates and decided, “I think I’m going home.” After a second of them both hearing it out loud, Steve said with more conviction, “I need to be home right now. I’m sorry. Thanks for dinner.”
He almost reached for his wallet to pay for his half of the artichoke dip, but reconsidered. He took his old prom tuxedo jacket off on the way to the elevator, waiting for the doors to close before he pressed his face into the old fibers.
It would be easier if Steve didn’t know money. If wealth were a foreign pillow he had never slept on; could be spoiled into never giving it up again.
Like a true mother with a sixth sense, Steve withdrew a package from his mailbox when he returned to his apartment building. Mrs. Harrington’s versions of care packages were fashion magazines, a subscription to The New Yorker, polaroids of her latest closet pieces, and Steve’s favorite candy.
He loved it all. He didn’t need laminated recipes, bags of rice, or resupplied hair products. He went up to his bedroom, stripped down to nothing, and fell into bed with the hefty parcel. Fruity hard candies fell out like confetti, and he stuck a green apple square inside his cheek while he looked through her baggie of polaroids.
Peach suede 130s. Steve felt a warm tickle in his belly at that. She only wore 130s if she was pissed at his father. A woman in 130s walked with the force of a storm, mostly because the damn things were nearly intolerable to wear without a platform.
Another pair of diamond earrings. One of these days, people were going to realize how boring clear rocks were.
Dark, amethyst Miu Mius with the heel and toe encrusted with pearls. Steve’s dad must’ve really pissed her off to warrant that apology.
The magazine subscription had piled up, so he had three New Yorkers to read, but he opened the tome of Vogue first. His mother dog-earred her favorite articles, scent samples, and spreads. She often favored the androgynous and male fragrances. Steve liked that a whole lot. He wasn’t sure if she did that for him because he liked them, or if he liked them because she did that.
He held the magazine to his face as he went to the kitchen, smelling the first fragrance sample while he reached for his cache of boxed cake mix. It was a funfetti kind of night. He rattled the package of sprinkles in his hand while reading about some summer collection where the runway happened in a Greek ampitheatre. Sounded fun. Sounded like a great vacation. Beach, wine, and then modern art fusing with ancient architecture.
Steve didn’t excel in chemistry, but he knew a different kind of magic.
Which didn’t actually include baking. The cake emerged a little dark, but he cut off the burnt top, iced it to glorious, sugar perfection, and took a slice to bed with him. He turned the parcel upside-down for the last of the candy to come out so he could throw the envelope away -
Two bottles of nail polish landed heavily on the bed. Steve lifted the darker bottle to see a purple so ebony he thought it was black until he opened it to see the paint up close.
Purple and peach. To match his mother’s shoes.
Not many people understood his parents’ methods of producing or avoiding affection. But Steve did. He shook up the poison violet and painted his toenails in between forkfuls of cake.
He didn’t hear from Billy the next day.
Or the next.
As bad as Steve felt, he couldn’t say he minded. Nor would he be surprised if Billy never called him again. The idea brought a lonely peace during the commute to work, reading his magazines on the train before keeping them safe in a folder that he stuffed inside his backpack. Even if Steve’s chest felt like a cold balloon, with its latex worn thin and tired, he had his little things to keep him warm.
Then a knock on his apartment door.
Steve answered it with a cheek full of cake, interrupted from making his grocery list of actual nutritional value -
Billy had never visited before. Steve stared at him long enough for him to ask, “Are you going to let me in?”
Steve glanced at the box under his arm and turned into his apartment with a sigh. Billy closed the door behind him as he remarked, “You don’t know what’s in it yet.”
There wasn’t exactly anywhere for Steve to theatrically storm off to. His kitchen was also his living room, and a half-wall partitioned the bedroom off to the side. His apartment was one long rectangle, and Steve remained stuck in the middle of it.
“Billy, I don’t know what you want from me that you think you can get from expensive things.”
“I don’t recall asking for anything in return,” he drawled while removing his coat.
“Don’t take that off,” Steve retorted.
“I’m taking it off.”
“This isn’t going to be a long visit.”
“Would you at least open the damn thing first?” Billy presented the box on the flat of his hand like a waiter’s tray.
Steve knew a shoe box when he saw one. He swatted the lid off the box before he even meant to. He was so tired of this game. Of these rules. He doesn’t want to see some snotty designer sneaker that isn’t to his taste. Some item the rules would dictate he accept without complaint. Or some chunky, foamy plastic, glorified tennis shoe that is over hyped . . .
He sees the red first.
It’s not a sneaker.
Hot Chick heels. 100mm. Black suede on top, red bottom. The leather around the heel scallop-cut like minimalist flower petals.
Steve’s breath has stopped in his chest. The pad of his thumb moved across the soft, matte leather before he stops himself. He tries to look stern when he dares to peek up at Billy, but those water-turquoise eyes are steady on him, absorbing his every reaction.
“These don’t exist in suede.”
Because they didn’t. Hot Chicks came in patent leather only.
“They do now.”
“Louboutin sizes down.”
“Then we’ll have them stretched.”
Steve is losing. Billy knows he’s losing. Billy - he -
“How - ?” Steve begins but stops. He closed his eyes and swallowed, only to flinch a little when Billy grasped his chin, holding him in place as he leaned in to lick the corner of his mouth free of icing.
“Will you try them on for me?”
Steve feels a mixture of defeat mixed in with petulance and vulnerable glee as he warily takes the box to his humble couch. Billy looked at his bed, and then to the kitchen on the other side of the apartment. He strolled into it and lifted the knife for a slice.
Steve, meanwhile, took his time. He opened the paper from where it had floated back over the shoes. He lifted the box to inhale the leather. He took one shoe out just to...see it. Look at it. Read the number stamped on the red arch.
Steve had to remove his socks, revealing his lacquered toes as Billy sat next to him with a plate. He eased the coffee table out of the way, giving Steve room to wiggle his foot into the severe 100mm heel.
They were hardly glamorous under his old, cut-off sweats.
But.
He’d never actually seen his feet in heels before. Never bothered to try to find his size.
Billy handed him the other shoe, and stood up with a ready hand. Steve wiggled into it and accepted his hold as he stood up.
How do you walk in those? he’d once asked his mother.
Trust the heel, my love, she’d answered, strolling around her bedroom in her 130s. If you’ve paid enough for it, it better hold up your entire form, and your dating baggage.
Steve had laughed, but listened to her every word. Move like a wheel barrow. You pivot on your toes, like the wheel, and rest on the heels.
“I’ve got you,” Billy purred when Steve teetered. Just a little.
“Why did you get me these?” Steve had to ask while he began to ease his arm off of Billy’s shoulders.
“Might’ve had a look inside your mail,” he admitted shamelessly. “I thought you might’ve ordered something and I could finally see what you liked. Instead, it’s the one thing I’ve seen you accept.”
“You’re a creep,” Steve declared, but he couldn’t look away from his feet as he strolled around the coffee table.
Billy laughed and sat down to his cake. “This is good.”
“It’s from a box.”
“It’s still good.”
Things . . . changed, after that. Billy came over just to come over. And he pestered Steve with endless questions.
“Do you like these?” he asked with his nose against the magazine pages.
Steve towered over him in his heels, but he’d wash dishes in whatever he wanted, thanks very much. And leather needed to be worn, as his mother taught him. Plastic is trash. If it comes from a living creature, it lives on a creature.
Steve snorted beside him. “My mom crimps those pages.”
“But do you like them?”
“They’re fun in magazines, but perfumes were never really my thing.”
“What is your thing?”
“Right now? You, elbows deep in here.”
Billy perked right out of the magazine only to lock onto the sink. “Because you’re having trouble reaching it now?”
Steve meant to have a witty come-back, but he got caught up in his own giggles. “Yeah.”
Then,
“Can I stay the night?”
Something must have flashed across his face, because Billy added, “Not for sex. I’ve taken the hint, all right?”
Steve slowly unfolded his socks where he sat on the foot of the bed. “Why do you want to?”
Billy wiped his hands on the dish towel and padded across the room to sit beside him. “Because I want to taste you before I sleep. And I wanna taste you when I wake up. I want your snark in my ears all the time - ”
“All the time?” Steve repeated, deadpan.
“Yeah, all the time. I can’t believe it either.”
Billy’s features were warm, unbelievably warm as he watched Steve laugh. “Of course I want to have sex with you. But I miss you when... I miss you all the time. It’s embarrassing.”
Steve rolled his eyes onto him, to which Billy defended, “I have things to do.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the big man in town,” Steve babied, pushing his chest so he toppled backward.
“I am, actually,” he crooned, his hands finding Steve’s legs easily when he straddled him. “I’d work better with you on my desk.”
“My hairy legs and scraped up heels?” Steve threatened breathily, holding Billy’s cheek and jaw in one hand while he leaned over him so all Billy could see was Steve.
“All of it,” he exhaled, and pulled Steve’s head the last inch for a kiss.
Billy’s next gift was a pair of slippers. Plush, soft, and perfect after an afternoon in 100s.
Then he gave Steve a massage. Steve could accept those with ease. The balls of his feet hurt and even blushed a faint indigo from being so unused to heels. The warm attention of Billy’s hands on the arches of his feet, heels, and ankles; as well as the cold tennis balls he stored in Steve’s freezer to roll along his feet.
By then, he’d seen Steve’s anklet. So the next shoe box Steve opened were dark green suede, as poisonously dark as his mother’s violet heels. The toe was bare, but the heel was encrusted with opals. The milky stones flashed green and orange as Steve walked in the 120mm heel.
“How do they feel?”
Steve, with far more mastery over heels now, pivoted on his toes and planted one on the couch in between Billy’s thighs. His warm hand cradled Steve’s ankle immediately.
“What if I shaved for these?”
“Then I’d never take my hands off you.”
“So nothing would change,” Steve giggled, teasing gone as he landed on Billy’s lap. The man underneath him hummed his mirth into Steve’s mouth, his other hand burying in Steve’s hair while he let Steve control the kiss, explore his mouth.
“I thought they’d go with your eyes,” he said when the kiss petered off and Steve kissed his nose. Billy touched the pad of his thumb high on Steve’s cheek. “There’s a little bit of green there.”
Steve let Billy fuck him in those shoes.
Because he finally craved all the way, beyond fear of rules. Beyond the existence of toys. He craved Billy deeper than skin, and Billy gave it to him.
And when Billy got him a pair of 130s . . . blood red and spiked with tiny, crimson points, he let Steve fuck him.
#everything i know about shoes i learned from Violet Chachki#harringrove#ficlet#asexual!steve#sugardaddy!billy#sugarbaby!steve#neonponders#pondermoniums#lazybakerart#happy birthday love!!!#no i don't know billy's job#cover a plot hole with an unreliable narrator~
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Step-Son Zone
Inspired by the TAZ Crystal Kingdom graphic novel and all the amazing jokes about Lucas being Lucretia’s stepson that I have recently seen.
"Package for you, Luce!" Lup said, entering the family room. She'd gone to get the mail hoping for a package she'd ordered, but sadly, it had not yet arrived. She loved Faerun and everything, but she had to admit she still missed package tracking. Having to go to the actual mailbox every day to figure out if her things had gotten here yet? Like an animal? Gross.
Letters were not an uncommon thing to find in the mailbox, a lot of which were fan mail. Saving the multiverse made one pretty popular after all. When the letters had first started coming, they were an onslaught, though now, months after the start, they were less frequent.
Still, it wasn't exactly unusual to find something from an address they didn't recognize in their mailbox these days. It was a little more unusual for the mail to be addressed to only one of them, but far from unheard of. Plenty of people liked to address their fan mail to some particular favorite in the family.
That didn't mean that Lup wasn't still pretty curious to see the package, but she had boundaries! She'd at least let Lucretia see it first, before she swiped it for a peek.
"Thank you, Lup," Lucretia smiled up at her from the couch as she took it. Some of their other family members- Taako, Barry, Merle, and Magnus- were also gathered in the family room, but there was still plenty of room to sit down, since they'd designed this room knowing exactly how large their family was and with decades of frustration at the relatively small size of the Starblaster common room in mind. Lup still plopped down immediately next to Lucretia anyway. All the better for reading over her shoulder, and it wasn't like any of them had much respect for each other's personal space anymore.
Sure enough, Lucretia didn't even look over at her at the invasion of her space, just shifting slightly to the left to make a little more space for Lup between her body and the arm rest.
Instead she looked down at the package, read the address it came from, and immediately turned and threw it in the garbage.
"Oookay," Lup said, curiosity even more raging now. "What the hell was that?"
"An admittedly nice gesture that I have no interest in reciprocating," Lucretia said crisply.
"From who?" Magnus asked, glancing over at the trash bin as if he wanted to dart over and grab it, but was restraining the impulse.
"Lucas," Lucretia said, with a long-suffering sigh.
"Miller?" Taako questioned. "What's that dick writing you for?"
"The holiday, I presume," Lucretia said, waving her hand vaguely.
It made zero sense to Lup that Lucas would be sending Lucretia something on holidays, and the weirdness was only compounded by the fact that she couldn't think of any recent holidays that she could be referring to. Glancing around at the confusion the rest of them were displaying, she was pretty sure it wasn't just because she was the least familiar with Faerun holidays of their group.
"What holiday?" Merle asked, scratching his head in confusion. "Only holiday I can think of around now is Mother's Day, but obviously it's not that."
Lucretia's mouth opened and closed in confusion for a moment, before her eyes widened. "Oh. Right. I'd forgotten you didn't know."
"Didn't know what?" Barry asked, head tilted to the side in curiosity and confusion.
"Lucas' mother Maureen and I- we were together. Married, actually," Lucretia said, glancing down at her hands in her lap as she said it. "It was pretty common knowledge, at the Bureau, so I thought you would have known- but I guess I assumed wrong. Which isn't that surprising, really, since nobody mentioned it too much after Maureen's death-"
Lup's had automatically reached out her arms when Lucretia started to sound sad, turning her lean into an embrace before her shocked mind could catch up with what had been said.
"What the fuck, Lucretia! How do you forget to mention the fact that you were married?" Taako squawked, even as he came over to them and gave Lucretia a quick, tight hug.
"I really thought you knew! It doesn't come up much with most people; I assumed it was the same here!" Lucretia defended.
"You thought we wouldn't have anything to say about the fact that you had a wife and she died?" Taako asked, still incredulous.
"Most people don't bring it up. It makes them awkward and uncomfortable," Lucretia said.
"Uh, yeah, obviously, but we talk about Julia with Magnus sometimes!" Lup said, wincing immediately afterwards and shooting a concerned look at Magnus. She hadn't meant to be so flippant about that.
Magnus looked a little shaken and wide-eyed, but he threw her a smile and a careful thumbs-up, so Lup knew she was okay.
"That's different," Lucretia said. "Magnus has been always been less private about his emotions than me."
They all knew what she wasn't saying. And also, Magnus didn't do what she did. And yes, those things were true, but like fuck was Lup going to let Lucretia think that they would just leave her to deal with her trauma and grief alone, just because she had betrayed their trust. They loved her way too much to do that to her.
"So? Being a private person doesn't mean your family isn't going to hug the living shit out of you when you lose somebody!" she said, squeezing her arms tighter to prove her point.
Lucretia chuckled softly, and her eyes got very soft and warm. "Thank you, Lup, but I promise, I'm okay. Now, anyway. Maybe we can talk about it another time?"
"Yeah, alright," Lup agreed, not totally loosening her hold.
"Wait, fuck, okay so it is Mother's Day? That's the reason Miller's sending you shit?" Taako asked, his face shifting from irritation and concern to a shit-eating grin.
"Presumably," Lucretia said. "He's done it before. And usually, when he writes me, it's just a letter, nothing more."
"Oh my god, he's your stepson," Magnus snickered.
"Yes, that is what it means when you marry someone's mother," Lucretia agreed, an indulgently amused look on her face.
"I can't believe you didn't tell us! We've been missing out on some choice goofs because of that, Lucy!" Taako said, faux indignant.
"Again, I thought you knew! I figured you didn't bring up Lucas being my stepson because he is, you know, terrible."
"Solid reasoning, but not quite," Barry chuckled.
Lup let go of Lucretia to push herself up and move toward the package in the garbage.
"Lup?" Lucretia questioned, watching her.
"Just 'cause he's an ass is no reason to throw out free shit before you even know what it is! Come on, Lucy, use your head! Might be something nice, and you don't gotta talk to him to accept free stuff," Lup explained.
Lucretia laughed, taking the package from Lup's outstretched hands. "I suppose you have a good point."
She opened the package and inside was a set of paints.
"Oh," she said softly. "These are- These are my favorites. Maureen used to get me this same set all the time."
"See! Nice!" Lup chimed. "You can just toss the letter and keep the paint!"
"Yes," Lucretia nodded, "you're right."
But she didn't move to throw the letter away.
Instead, after several long moments of internal debate, she said, "Lucas wasn't always such a dick. When he was younger, he could be a real sweetheart. When he wanted."
"Why don't you look at the letter, Lucy?" Merle said, soft. "Seems like you really want to."
"I don't," she said, firmly. "Lucas used the Philosopher's Stone in a way that was insanely risky. He didn't care about how it would affect anyone but himself and Maureen. And that was hardly the least of it, either. Maureen- wasn't always the most cautious when inventing or researching, but she only ever put herself at risk. She didn't hurt people. Lucas was grieving, yes, I understand, but that's not an excuse. And it certainly doesn't excuse what he did to the bugbears or- any of the other incredibly inethical things he did! Maureen would be disappointed in him. And so am I."
Even with the tirade, she hadn't tossed the letter.
"Yeah, that was fucked up," Magnus chimed. "Nobody's going to make you read it or talk to him ever, you know that, right?"
"Uh huh," Lucretia nodded. "I think- I think I'll take these to my room."
She waved the paints as she said it, and only the paints, but she still took the letter up with her. And when she came back down and threw out the mess of packaging on the floor, she didn't have the letter anymore.
(Notes: Okay, so I personally can't really stand Lucas, especially in the podcast with the whole, uh, enslavement debacle, but in a fandom that has so much focus on family and forgiveness and redemption and hope and moving on, it felt weird to just completely shut off any chance of Lucas redeeming himself and being less of an asshole and rebuilding that relationship so. I left it open-ended. Feel free to assume he never does though, if you want!
Additionally, I really wavered on whether to go with podcast canon of the control chips and basically enslavement of the bugbears or the graphic novel canon of intelligence enhancing chips, because the latter is less uncomfortable for me personally, but also the fact that the former is a thing is part of why I wrote Lucretia feeling so harsh towards Lucas, so I decided basically to leave it vague. You can assume the bit about what Lucas did to the bugbears refers to either podcast canon or something shitty in gn canon depending on your own preferences.)
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Love Me With Your Worst Intentions
Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader
Request: May I please request something which is Hardin Scott x an insecure reader. I just think it would be really sweet but with a slight touch of sadness ya know? Anonymous
The note reads ‘Be back later. Don’t wait up’. A classic Hardin message that always makes your stomach do a flip. He has yet to tell you where he goes or who he sees. It’s not that he needs to inform you of his every move - you’re not trying to be his mother - but a general picture of where he is would be nice. Especially with the reputation he’s got. Now the logical part of you knows that he is deeply in love with you and wouldn’t see someone behind your back, but he’s also hurt you in the past. Whenever you thought about how the two of you started out, all your insecurities comes out. You’re aware of how pretty and thin the girls that he hooked up with were. You know that he never cared who he hurt or how. You know about that poor girl back in England whose life he tore apart because of some sick joke between him and his friends. It makes you worry if you’re good enough for him. Good enough for him to change and be the man you know he can be.
“Landon, hey. Can I come over?” It’ll do you no good to wait for him alone. Your thoughts will get the better of you and you’ll make stupid scenarios in your head that probably aren’t true anyway. So who better to call than Landon who can always talk you down. He’s the only one who knows how you feel and how insecure standing next to Hardin makes you feel.
“Sure. You’re always welcome.” It takes you 20 minutes to grab your purse and head over to Landon. The two of you proceed to spend the night having a movie marathon that takes your mind completely of Hardin and what he might be doing. You’re always been insecure even when you were little and the other kids made fun of your accent or your clothes. Boys would tell you to lose weight and girls would make fun whenever you tried to put on makeup. And being with Hardin just made those feelings come back 10 times over. Never being sure how he feels about you and knowing his past conquests.
“Stop!” You look over at Landon surprised by his outburst.
“I can tell you’re thinking about him and clearly he’s not bothered about you right now, so he doesn’t deserve your thoughts.” Landon isn’t really Hardin’s biggest fan at the minute but doesn’t mean that he’s not right. Clearly, Hardin will rather be doing whatever he’s doing than spend time with you. So you clear your mind of him and focus and Landon and the movie. At 2am you decide it’s time to head back to the apartment.
“I’ll see you Monday.” A brief hug is exchanged before you get in your car and drive back. You noticed that you have unread messages from Hardin but you don’t want to open them right now. It’ll just be him asking where you are. Instead you drive straight home preparing to face him and his anger.
“I’m home,” you call out not even bothering to be quiet. You know he’s up waiting for you.
“I texted you. Where the hell were you tonight?” At least he’s not drunk this time. Though painfully sober isn’t exactly much of an upgrade.
“I went over to Landon’s house,” you reply moving towards the bathroom. You’re tired and don’t really feel like arguing tonight.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“Oh, like you tell me where you go? Maybe I should just give you a note next time with some vague explanations to my whereabouts!” You have no idea where this courage is coming from. Normally you go completely quiet when he picks a fight.
“You don’t need to know where I am all the time,” he dismisses you.
“You’re right, I don’t. But then that’s mutual. I can go wherever I please, and you can’t say a word about it.” You know it’s wrong to agitate him because Hardin is the embodiment of the saying “don’t bring a knife to a gun fight” and you’re the poor sucker who brought a knife. When he’s like this, he will feed off of your insecurities and make you feel so low.
“What’s your fucking problem? If this is how you’re going to be, I think I might just head on over to Molly instead.” He regrets it the minute he says it. You know he does, but his pride will never let him admit that. You see red. Molly is your biggest insecurity and he knows how she makes you feel. It’s all just too much for you. The comment pushes you over the edge.
“My problem is you. My problem is that with the way you treat me, I should hate you!” You quickly cover your mouth with your hands as if that will keep him from hearing the hurtful words spilling out of you.
“Then go!” You deflate.
“You want me to go?” You’re whispering because you don’t really want to know the answer to your question. Your moment of bravery is gone and now all you can think about is how badly you need him to just hold you and tell you that there will never be anyone else. That nobody else compares to you.
“Yes.” Three letters, one word, a thousand knives to your heart. Of course, he’s said this before without meaning it but your mind isn’t built for these games.
“Fine.” You start grabbing random things to throw into the bag before heading for the door. You blink rapidly to get rid of the tears blocking your vision. It’s all just getting too much for you.
“Don’t go.”
“You told me to go. I’m just following orders.” It’s not even meant in a passive aggressive way because there’s no fight left in you right now. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t love you.
“I didn’t mean it. I was upset.” What’s caused this sudden change in behaviour is a mystery to you but all that matters is how calm he seems now. Not in the eerie way when he’s so angry he might start trashing the room, but in the calm way when he knows he pushed it too far and hurt you a little bit more than last time.
“You can’t say stuff like that to me. You can’t talk about Molly and then ask me to leave.” Your hand is still on the doorknob but you’ve let go of your bag.
“I know.” It’s the closest you’ll get to an apology from him - something you’ve learned the hard way.
“You don’t get it, Hardin. I hate the idea of all the girls I am compared to when I’m with you. I hate how Molly is so stupid gorgeous and I’ll never be that pretty. Or confident. And I hate the fact that you make me feel unloved because I am madly in love with you!” After that whole monologue you find yourself out of breath and desperately trying to hold back the tears that will inevitable fall. It’s the first time you’ve aired your insecurities like that. He knows you’re not Molly’s biggest fan, but you’ve never really told him why.
“I love you. When I see you all other girls fade away. You’re that beautiful. And just the thought of you not feeling that way is disgusting. It’s a waste to even try and compare you to anyone, because nobody comes close to you,” he admits hugging you tightly. And just like that the Hardin you love and adore is back.
“I’m just so tired of feeling like I’m not enough for you.”
“I’m the one who should be feeling like this, not you. In every universe you will always be too good for me. It’s not even a question. How I conned you into loving me will remain unanswered but I’m thankful every day. Even if I’m a complete and utter asshole to you.”
“Kiss me, Hardin.” He complies immediately sliding his hand down to your lower back so he can pull you closer. You let your fingers run through his hair just the way he likes it.
“I don’t ever want you to feel insecure in yourself or in your body. You are easily the fittest person I’ve ever been with and definitely the most amazing,” he whispers. He’s intertwined his fingers with yours and it’s a simple move but it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter. After his declaration he carries you to the bedroom where he proceeds to prove to you three times just how much he adores your body.
#hardin scott blurb#hardin scott x reader#hardin scott imagine#hardin scott gif#hardin scott#hardin#hardin blurb#hardin gif#after gif#after movie#after imagine#after we collided#awc#awc imagine#awc blurb#after blurb
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tozier • ben hanscom
(ben hanscom x tozier!reader smut)
requested: okay so once regular requests open, here's my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his
warnings: swearing, smut, unedited bc im a lazy asshole
ok guys here’s part one of the new series! i’ll probably have to go back in and edit some stuff n probably change the name but lmk what u guys think and what u wanna see for the next parts :)
[losers and reader are in college in this.]
2.8k words
♡
you know richie pretty well, if you say so yourself. hell, you grew up with him - you've known him your whole entire life and even now, as 19 and 20 year olds, you're still at each other’s throats constantly.
naturally, growing up with richie as your brother was full of ups and downs - like the time that you were still a baby in your crib and he'd curiously wandered into your nursery and twisted your finger, causing it to break. or, that time when you two got into a fight over who took the last of the ice cream in the freezer and didn't speak to each other for almost three whole days.
but there were really good times, too - like when richie picked you up after your disastrous senior prom night and drank vodka with you in the back of his pickup truck while you threw rocks at the creepy house on neibolt street. or the time where you bought him a new pair of glasses so your parents wouldn't kill him for breaking them and he bought you ice cream for a month as a thank you.
richie was the most frustrating, annoying, rude, arrogant older brother, and yet even when you were away at separate colleges, you talked on the phone almost every night.
you share one of those really, really competitive relationships - a lot of it, you’ve realized, stems from your parents constantly pitting you two against each other to vie for their attention and praise. but no matter, you still hated richie most of the time and he hated you just as much.
but right now, you might fucking murder him.
you have so much hatred for him as you storm down your stairs, phone clutched violently in your palm as you stalk into the basement, hollering, "richard!" at the top of your lungs. it's a hot august afternoon and you've just come back from the pool with your best friend, now filled to the brim with white hot rage for your brother.
when you'd been at the pool, cecily, your best friend, had stretched her neck and you'd noticed a hickey (naturally, you'd teased her about it). but when you pried, she got secretive and defensive until it finally slipped out that the boy she'd been with was none other than your gangly, stupid older brother, richie.
you were completely disgusted and beyond addled as to why she'd choose richie, of all people, but more than that you were extremely pissed and stormed off, driving home with knuckles tight against the steering wheel.
and now, as you make it down to the last step of the basement, you're aware that you're still in your bathing suit with shorts thrown haphazardly on top as you storm towards your fuckwit brother.
he and all of the losers he hung out with are down here, sprawled on the large sofas and on the floor in front of the tv. you don't dare break your eye contact with richie as you glare, face heated with anger.
"well hey there, little sis. what's got your knickers in a knot?" he says with a lopsided grin that you just want to punch clean off his face. he's sitting between ben and bill and you turn a little pink as you notice both boys’ eyes on your body. yet you barely think for a second before slapping richie straight across his cheek, hard.
the slap is a sickening sound as it quiets the whole room - you can feel bev's eyes on you, hear eddie's short gasp, and see out of the corner of your eyes as stan turns his head to watch the scene. richie stares at you, hand on his cheek. "what the hell, y/n?" he asks with a glare as he stands up, rising to his full height above you. but you’re not afraid.
"you talk to cecily today?" you ask with feigned sweetness, a sick smile on your face as you cross your arms. richie just blinks at you, mouth opening and closing like the dumbass he is. "how long have you been fucking her?" you ask when he says nothing.
the room bursts in exclamations after your words - from mike's "you didn't." to bill's "what the f-fuck is wrong with you, m-man?" and ben's, "oh my god, dude."
richie just shakes his head, looking way too casual as he places a hand on your shoulder with a grin, "y/n/n, can we talk about this later? we’re trying to watch jeopardy." he smirks, but you immediately shake his arm off, recoiling in frustration as you glare at him. "no, richie! you’ve been fucking my best friend! my ONLY friend!" you ask, shaking your head. “you’re such a shitty person, i fucking hate you. why did you do it?”
as you make eye contact, he sighs almost forlornly, as if he’s about to apologize. but this is richie, so of course he doesn’t. "....she's just so fuckin’ hot." he says with a grin.
you take a sharp breath, rubbing your face with your hands as you back away towards the stairs.
"c'mon, sis! don't be so sensitive." he calls to your back and you can practically hear the nasty grin in his voice. you hear eddie hiss, "quit being a fucking asshole." to your brother and you want to scream. "don't fucking talk to me, richie." you snap as you make it up the stairs, ignoring richie as he laughs his stupid hyena laughter.
you're finally changed out of your suit and into a shirt and shorts by the time you've calmed down enough to take a few deep breaths. a knock makes you jump, though, and you glare at the closed door. as you're about to yell for whoever it is to go away, you're stopped by a voice.
"hey, y/n." ben's voice sounds through the door, and it's almost shocking how quickly your shoulders relax. you smile shyly as you open the door, your heart beating wildly, this time not from anger but out of your proximity to ben.
ben hanscom had been your brother’s friend for a while, and you simply did not understand. all of them are jackasses, richie being the king of the pack, but ben really does seem to be so fucking genuine. maybe it’s because you’ve always had a small thing for him, but then again it may just be because you’re furious with richie.
"hi, ben. sorry i was.... sorry about that." you say awkwardly as he walks into your room and shuts the door gently. he laughs quietly as he leans against your wall, looking down at you knowingly. "it's richie's fault. you have every right to be mad. he’s a dick sometimes"
you nod thoughtfully, touched that ben came to check in on you. "i know he is. you know, i'm not even mad that they had sex, honestly, i’m just mad because i know he did it to piss me off." you say, biting your lip as you stare up at ben, his hair glinting under the soft light of your lamp.
ben nods as he reaches out to rub your shoulder, making your stomach flutter as you look up at him. "if i can be honest, you two have the weirdest relationship i've ever seen, y/n. i'm sorry he did that and didn’t tell you, that's really unfair."
you smile lightly at the floor where your feet point towards his. "well now i have, like, nobody to hang out with this summer." you mumble, thinking about how cecily is really your only friend from derry, and how all your college friends live hundreds of miles away.
you shrug, leaning into ben's touch. "you have me to keep me company, though." he says with a shy grin, cheeks heating up at your smile.
"oh, just you? i like the sound of that." you ask, lifting a brow playfully. he chuckles a bit at your look and it makes your chest flutter.
"yeah, of course you do, y/n." he says as he pulls you into a hug. he's warm and smells like cinnamon cologne and it makes your chest glow sweetly. you pull back only slightly, hands sliding up to his chest as you look into his golden eyes. "ben..." you whisper softly, eyes going down to his lips and then bouncing back up, not wanting to make a move if he's not comfortable with it.
he clearly is thinking the same thing, because you're both moving closer and closer, his hands lightly squeezing your hips as he stares at you with hooded eyes. "yeah?" he asks, just as quietly. you swallow, wanting nothing more than to just close the gap just to see what it'd be like. to have one of richie's friends, for a change.
you don't know how to initiate it, though. "do you want to-"
"yes." he rushes out quickly, apprehension only flashing across his face just after he'd rushed out the answer, in fear that you'd been overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. but it's enough for you, and you grin slightly before pulling him into a kiss.
his lips are hot on yours, your hair still drying from the chlorine at the pool as his fingers tangle in the strands. you moan a bit out of shock, having not kissed anyone in a while and feeling touch starved. his hands are strong and soft in all the best ways and you try not to smirk as you think about your stupid brother sitting in the basement, currently unaware of what you’re about to do with one of his best friends upstairs.
but then, just as your hand slips to the hem of ben’s jeans, he pulls back a bit. “is this a bad idea?” he asks.
you sigh, looking away. “yes.” you say with barely any hesitation. “but i don’t fucking care.” you say honestly, and ben grins, “well, me neither. you’re...” he looks you up and down before smiling. “so fucking pretty.” he ends with and your stomach flutters, face growing hot at the compliment.
"but i don't want to, like.... t-take advantage of this situation, or-" ben starts, but you shake your head, biting your lip as you stare at him. he's so fucking amazing, so caring. he's always been like this - respectful, considerate, and interested in your well being, which really just makes you want him even more.
"no, ben, i... i really want this. if-if you do too." you say honestly, fiddling with your fingers as you watch him through your lashes. he grins as he nods. "you sure?"
you giggle, pulling him towards you by his neck. "yes. are you, ben?" you ask as he leans down closer. "definitely." he whispers against your lips, his breath coming out in a short huff. and then his lips are on yours, pressing strongly and fully as you stumble a bit, grasping him tightly as you kiss back.
he presses you against him, hand at the small of your back as he moves his tongue deftly against your lip, exploring your mouth as you suppress a moan. one moment later, you pull back a bit.
"you're not..." you trail off, and he shakes his head. "no, are you?" he asks, and you also shake your head as you cup his cheek and pull him back in for a kiss. "me neither." you mutter, falling back down onto the mattress, hand blindly fumbling around inside your bedside drawer for your box of condoms.
he's kissing down your neck, his hands palming your breasts softly as you finally pull one out and set it beside you, wrapping your arms back around his neck.
he grinds slowly against you and you let out an embarrassedly loud moan at the friction against your clothed clit. he's already pretty hard and your mind flickers to the basement, how chilly it had been against your skin and how your swimsuit top probably didn't leave much to the imagination as you'd stood right in front of him. it makes you giddy at the thought of ben's eyes on you, his mind drifting to what you'd look like underneath him.
which is where you are right now, as he rolls the condom onto himself and pumps slowly. you kick your shorts and underwear off, aching and dripping with need as he slides between your legs, bracing himself with one arm above you.
"ready?" he asks softly and you let out a strangled whimper as you feel him line up at your entrance, teasing your folds a bit and making your hips buck. "yes." you say, staring deep into his eyes.
ben grasps your hand then, steading both you and him as he eases into you, sinking slowly and letting out a shuddering breath. you let out a small whine at the feeling of ben stretching you out, having been too antsy and not having enough time or patience for foreplay. once he's fully inside you, he kisses your cheek and gives you a few moments to adjust as you breathe into his neck.
and then he starts to move, his hips rolling slowly as he fills you up and hits a perfect spot inside you, your toes curling almost immediately. "oh god, ben." you moan out and that makes his hips move fluidly as he thrusts into you, kissing your neck softly as you whimper in pleasure.
the hand that isn't steadying himself above you holding your hand dances around you; exploring your curves, fingers lightly tracing over the stretch marks on your hips and then his palm sliding to caress your sides, his touch making your skin feel on fire.
after a few more minutes, he picks up the pace, hips angled slightly deeper and making your toes curl. he starts to moan every few thrusts, right into the shell of your ear, and it pushes you closer and closer to that feeling growing in your abdomen.
"shit, y/n, i'm already close." he mutters, eyes closed in bliss as he leans his head back slightly, the sight heavenly to your eyes. and you don't even blame him because he's probably just as pent-up as you are and you know this has to be quick or else richie will come up, wondering why ben was taking so long to ask if you're okay.
so you lean up a bit as he thrusts into you and you attach your lips to his neck, sucking lightly enough that it won't mark. "so am i." you say breathlessly as you move your hips, chasing the high that's building deep inside you.
you press your hands to his chest, stopping his motions momentarily. "let me ride you." you say breathlessly and his eyes widen with something akin to hunger as he pulls out of you, rolling onto his back with a shocked look. you smirk as you climb back onto him, straddling him as you pump him a few times. he bites his lip as you sink yourself onto him, moaning and covering your mouth so as not to carry the sound all the way to the basement.
as you start to bounce, you smile, realizing that you're not at all insecure in front of ben - his hands are all over your body, running over and gripping the plush skin as you sink onto him, taking him perfectly. he's groaning and moving his hips with yours as you mouth wet kisses over his chest and neck.
ben lets out a moan that pushes you near the edge as you pick up the pace, his cock hitting a new spot inside you that has you whimpering. as his hands fall to move your hips with his, squeezing your soft thighs tightly, you hit your high.
you tremble as the feeling of him inside you makes you clench hard, your eyes squeezing shut in bliss as you moan out, "ben!"
your hips stop moving as you ride out your high, only making small movements as you clench around him in complete pleasure. he groans below you, eyes still shut as he juts his hips upwards, taking over to chase his own orgasm.
and his hips start to stutter a few thrusts after as you slump on his chest, one hand on your tits and the other on your hips to move you with his thrusts. he cums a few moments later with a moan that is muffled by your hair, his hands sliding down to your ass, your lips on his collarbone.
after a few moments, you roll off of him and sigh, shocked and unsure as to if that really just happened. you're embarrassed at how quickly he made you cum - you want to blame it all on the fact that it has been quite some time since you'd had sex, but it really was the thrill of hooking up with him, especially because your brother was just downstairs.
ben's cheeks are red as he sits up quickly, pulling on his boxers and then his pants, only looking at you after he tugs the hem of his shirt down. "um, i would totally stay, but-"
you shake your head with a grin, "no, i get it. this was... just a spur of the moment thing."
he beams at you, seemingly relieved that he wasn't hurting your feelings - that was amazing and you're both glowing in your post-orgasm high, but you both know that this was a one-time thing. he pecks your cheek sweetly and as he turns to leave, you mutter, "wait!"
he lifts a brow as he turns to you and you run your fingers through his hair a few times to make it look the way it did before he came up here. "thanks." he says with a grin before he disappears, closing the door behind him and making you get dressed with red cheeks in silence.
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#ben hanscom x reader#ben hanscom smut#losers x reader#richie tozier x reader#tozier series#beverly marsh x reader#bill denbrough x reader#stanley uris x reader#eddie kaspbrak x reader#mike hanlon x reader
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