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#I looked at them recently and they weren’t as glorious as I remember but it’s ok it was one of my first experiences with illustration

petrichorvidae · 13 days

Text

Mushy May Day 2: Late night snacks

Rating: Teen Word count: 3,560 Pairing(s): Swiss/Dewdrop + some Phantom/Rain heavily implied on the side, as a treat. Additional: Recreational drug use, minor blood and injury, references to sex, the ever-looming threat of an earth ghoul whose weed was stolen, and the existence of cheese singles. Summary: Dewdrop and Swiss raided Mountain's personal stash, and now they raid the kitchen too! Link to it on AO3 for those who prefer!

I had to take a day off for health reasons, and then I forgot to post this last night, but now I'm back with some swissdew shenanigans!

Once again, a huge thanks to @forlorn-crows for organizing Mushy May!

~~~~~~~~~~

Dew woke up with a start when something wet touched him, hissing out into the open air and looking around wildly trying to find whatever unknown had dared to disturb his sleep. His body was still adjusting to the suddenness of being awake, and that didn’t play favourites with his eyes, so he wasn’t able to do much more than squint and swish his tail back and forth in agitation.

“Whuh…!?” Seems his brain is still too mushy from sleep to even finish getting out a single coherent word.

He continued to swish his tail but his hiss faded away into a low growl, near-silent in volume as he was far too tired to do anything more. Dew kept blinking his eyes hoping to open them each time with a newly granted sense of sight, and if he had energy left in him he would have jumped for joy when he finally acclimated to the light. Wait, why would the light be on?

He feels stupid when he goes to pull his blanket off of him only to find that it’s not there, as a matter of fact, it’s nowhere to be found in the room, which only serves to add yet another layer to his confusion. He wouldn’t be caught dead without that thing, be it in his bunk in a tour bus, serving as a protective layer between him and whatever uncomfortable sheets the hotel they’re staying at has, or just as a source of comfort and warmth back here, home, in the abbey. Not that he needed the additional warmth though, definitely not with how things had been warming up recently combined with his Fire ghoul nature.

He looked to his side, hoping maybe he had kicked it away in his sleep after getting too hot or something, but instead, he was met with the glorious sight of none other than Swiss, sleeping like a rock, snoring louder than even Aether, and with a long and luxurious strand of drool trailing down the side of a pillow he was holding onto for dear life. And then everything clicked.

Memories flooded Dew’s head of how he and Swiss had broken into Mountain’s stash earlier that evening, getting their grubby mitts into the real good shit that he usually kept for himself, giant selfish bastard. He also remembered how they had then raided his entire Stash and left very few survivors in their wake, and how they then locked themselves in Swiss' room before participating in some stupid fucked up contest of seeing who could smoke through the most of it in a single day. Dew looked back to Swiss again, that puddle of drool had definitely grown by a few centimetres since he’d last looked. Judging by the state of him, and how Swiss was apparently dead to the world, they probably weren’t finding out who had won any time soon. Dewdrop groans and flops back down onto the bed. Of course, the one thing he couldn’t recall was both the reason for and the result of them getting into this mess.

What he hadn’t been anticipating was for his coordination to still be a little off after only being awake for a few short minutes, and thus he hadn’t been expecting his elbow to hit a sleeping Swiss right in the face. Swiss’ poor nose certainly hadn’t been expecting it, that’s for sure.

The most pathetic and hurt-sounding yelp he’s ever heard let Dew know that all those comments about his elbows being unusually bony may have some basis in truth after all. The ghoul that was dead asleep just a few seconds ago was now wide awake and hunched over himself while he clutches his nose. What Dew thinks is the slightest dribble of blood serves to sober him up a bit from his self-imposed high. He immediately starts looking around before finding what he’s looking for, locating the box of tissues on the nightstand next to Swiss’ bed and grabbing it before he can think too long about why it would be there in the first place.

“Ah shit! M’so sorry Swiss, didn’ mean to.” He blabbers out an attempt of an apology as he holds the tissues out to Swiss, who now has tears of pain threatening to spill at the corners of his eyes as he snatches the tissues from Dew, hissing at him all the while, and, yeah, he did kinda deserve that.

“Th’fuck s’wrong with you? F’ckin’ asshole.” Not even the shock of having his nose bashed by Dewdrop’s elbow could truly wake up Swiss, as it would seem. In true Swiss fashion, the larger ghoul continued to spit and hiss out more slurred insults at the smaller while he grabbed a bunch of the tissues and held them up to his bloody nose which would definitely have a pretty purple bruise on it later on that would lead to them being subjected to another of Aether’s interrogations while the Quintessence ghoul would try to figure out how two idiots like them survived for long enough in the pit to be summoned, just for them to be even bigger dumbasses.

Once Swiss had cleaned up his face and shook off his shame from being defeated by Dew’s bony as-shit elbow of all things, the Multi decided to dedicate the rest of his life to giving the Fire ghoul the dirtiest look he could muster. He wasn’t even giving him daggers now, he was giving him full-on swords. It was almost funny how mad he was trying to look, his nose all scrunched up with his ears down, fur puffed up to further set in how pissed he was with him at the moment. And yet, Dew wouldn’t forget this moment between them for Swiss' ire, which he had rightfully earned to be fair, but for how that heated silence was suddenly broken by one of the loudest growls he had ever heard come from Swiss' stomach.

They stared at each other, both looked down at Swiss' stomach, and immediately looked right back up to each other again, before simultaneously bursting out into a fit of giggles. All of Dew’s elbow’s transgressions are forgotten as they roll around on top of Swiss' bed.

After a few minutes of giggling and another interruption, this time from Dew’s stomach, Swiss finally let out his first fully formed words since he’d been so rudely woken up. “Woah, easy there tiger, don’t gotta go roaring at me.” He put his hands up in a mock surrender “How ‘bout we go and raid the kitchen for whatever good stuff we can find? We can bring it back here and have ourselves a feast.”

Dewdrop thought about it, and he was really hungry now that they’d both been made aware by their bodies, and rather loudly at that. But, and there was always a but, Dewdrop looked over to the locked door leading out into the hallway and his thoughts stilled for a moment. The whole reason it had been locked in the first place was because they both Mountain would be out for blood once he found his stash desecrated and gone, and another memory from the evening was returned to him, this one of Mountain pounding on the door when he had finally found out what they’d done, and how the only thing stopping him from going through with his threat to kick down the door and collect retribution for his precious weed was Aether quite literally dragging him away to cool down a bit if the scuffle they had heard was anything of substance. One thing was gnawing away at his mind right now, and he made sure to voice it; “What if he’s still out there.”

Swiss understood what he meant, and looked like he was speedrunning through the exact thought process Dew had just gone through judging by the slight panic in his eyes, but apparently, he wasn’t anywhere as worried as Dew was, because he just shrugged.

“You got any idea what time it is?”

Dewdrop chews at his lip before digging around for his phone. He manages to find it under a pillow, the very same one that now had a damp spot from Swiss drooling on it, gross. After a more than slightly judgemental look sent the taller ghoul’s way, Dewdrop turns the screen on and goes to look at the time. Swiss leans over his shoulder to take a peek for himself.

Both of them are left in silent shock at the time.

“Shit…”

“Did we really sleep for that long?”

“Must have, the phone doesn’t lie Dewbug.”

“Thought I told you to stop calling me that.” The Fire ghoul hissed, though they both knew it didn’t have any real bite to it.

“But it’s just so fun getting to see your cheeks go red like that, Dewbug.” There it was again, that toothy grin that would make a baby cry. And speaking of the devil, the Multi’s teasing paid off when he got to watch as his partner tried to hide himself amongst the pillows. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the very blush he was referring to would be found spreading its way across Dew’s cheeks at that very moment if anyone were to get a good look.

With perfect timing as always, Swiss' stomach chooses that moment to remind the two of their shared hunger, possibly saving Dewdrop from any further torment and teasing.

Getting back on track, Swiss pads his way over to the door and opens the bolt lock, but before he can even get his hand on the handle Dew is diving across the bed and towards him. “Wait!”

Swiss gives him a look that hopefully reads as ‘You really wanna starve in here?’, but goes out of his way to voice the rhetorical question anyway.

“I mean, no, but-”

“Excellent! Then let’s get-a-going and get some grub.” And with that, Swiss swings the door open, but is careful to make sure it doesn’t bang against the wall and make a noise. He may be crazy, but he doesn’t want to risk being the one to disturb anyone’s sleep. Then they’ll really be helpless when Mountain inevitably gets his claws on them. “Just, y’know, be quiet. Sneaky.” He adds in a hushed tone with a wink at the end for emphasis. And with that, the two ghouls are slowly and stealthy tiptoeing their way down the hallway, making their way to the den and by extension the kitchenette as they pass by the doors to all the rooms that the band ghouls call home. They can hope each and every one of them is occupied by sleeping ghouls, especially as they pass by the room of a certain abnormally tall Earth ghoul. Step after step, they slowly inched their way down the hall, getting closer and closer to their goal.

Finally, the narrow length of the hallway spreads out into a much wider and vastly more spacious common room, or the den as it’s come to be known. The room is near pitch black in the dark of the night, and with their minds still a little hazy from all the weed they had indulged themselves with smoking several hours ago, even with their more advanced ghoulish eyesight, they can't really make much of anything out. Swiss, showing a brief moment of rationality and even using a little logic to boot, reaches out to his side where he knew the lightswitch to be and suddenly the large space is flooded with light, though thankfully on a dimmer setting so it isn’t too much of a shock to their eyes.

What does come as a shock, is the ghoul staring at the pair from where they stand by the kitchenette, looking like a deer caught in headlights, a freshly opened pack of crackers in one hand and an entire brand new tube of Primula cheese in the other.

The atmosphere is palpable, the tension in the room so thick you could cut it, right up until a cracker falls out from the packaging and clatters when it hits the floor, that is.

“Phantom? Why the hell are you up at this time?”

That seems to make the Quintessence bristle up a did. His ears pull back when he whisper-shouts a defensive and very creative “Why are you!?”

Swiss and Dew look at each other at the exact same time, both thinking about whether they should tell him about their escapades and Mountain.

“Uhm… stuff…” Dew blurts out. Very articulated. Swiss gives him a look but he just shrugs. Well, what did the Multi want him to say?

“Hey, are those Cirrus’ crackers?” Swiss tries to deflect Phantom’s deflection, and it seems to work as Phantom is immediately right back to looking like he’d just been caught with his pants down.

Looking around and finding no way to escape from the situation, Phantom resigns and answers the question. “Yes…”

Oh, this was gonna be good. It’s nice to know they weren’t the only ones dumb enough to steal from their packmates tonight. Everyone knows how defensive Cirrus can get over her snacks, and those crackers were her favourite. The fact that they’d only just been bought and she hasn’t even gotten a chance to try them yet will just add to the drama of all this.

“Oooh~ Somebody’s gonna be in trouble~”

Phantom snaps his gaze right over to Dew, glaring at him while he utters his next words. “You don’t tell Cirrus it was me, and I don’t tell Mountain.”

Dewdrop just had to go and tease him.

“Ha, nice try kid, but the big guy already knows all about what we did.”

“Trust me, we all know.” Phantom puts it bluntly, and it doesn’t come as a surprise at all considering how loud Mountain had been earlier, and that was just what they heard through the door. “I meant I won’t tell him exactly where you guys will be tomorrow.” When raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ve been speaking to Sunny, and I’ve seen your guys’ schedules for your chores tomorrow. I’ll do it.” Oh, okay, so the new kid had finally grown some fangs it would seem. Swiss almost barks out a laugh from the shock of it all, who knew Phantom of all ghouls would be the one threatening to sic a pissed-off Mountain on them?

“Okay, okay, you win kid. Sheesh.”

And with that, they seem to slip into a truce of sorts. Phantom sets his pilfered crackers and squeezy cheese off to the side so he can find a plate, and Swiss and Dew walk past him to start rummaging through the cupboards and fridge for anything that speaks to their hunger at the moment. Swiss flipped through the cupboards whilst Dew searched through the fridge.

“All I’ve got here is a bag of chips and a half-empty box of breadsticks that may or may not be on their way to going stale already, any luck over there?” When Swiss receives no reply he looks to check on Dew, and finds his companion doing a silly victory dance as he holds up a pack of some deli meat like it’s the cub in that one lion film they’d watched a couple months back. Swiss had to bite his tongue and hold back whatever laugh or teasing comment he would have let out. It was just so pure. They were both still decently high from Mountain’s weed, raiding the kitchen in the midst of the night as quickly as possible so they could return to Swiss’ room to continue hiding from Mountain’s wrath, and Swiss couldn’t bring himself to look away from Dew. He wondered if this was what people mean when they say that it sometimes feels as if time has frozen when they look at their partners.

“Dew, you look ridiculous.” And the moment is ruined. Swiss turns to bare his fangs slightly at the younger ghoul but Phantom is unphased and just sticks his tongue out in return, the cheeky fucker. By the time Swiss turns back to Dew, he’s finished his celebration and has placed the pack of sliced meat on the nearby side, right next to where Swiss has placed his findings, before diving back on in to grab the final piece to make this meal truly perfect.

“Boom! Cheese singles.” He smirks up at Swiss while she waves the individually packaged slices of processed cheese in his face, positively pleased at himself with his findings.

Phantom decides to pipe in again from over by where he’s now got everything he needs, the entire tube of Primula now squeezed out onto the plate with a knife carefully placed beside it, his crackers still in their pack off to the side where he’d been snacking on a few when trying to find the knife and plate. Truly a charcuterie board for kings. “You’re seriously gonna eat those? Are they even real cheese?”

Dewdrop is quick to defend himself. “First of all, yes, I am seriously gonna eat these cheese singles, and I’m gonna love every second of it. And second, I’m not gonna be judged by the ghoul who is about to eat a fuckton of crackers with squeezy cheese!” He presses an accusatory finger into Phantom’s chest. Now with being so close to him, Dewdrop takes in how the ghoul is blatantly wearing clothes that aren’t his. The shirt is obviously one of Dew’s, while not tight it was definitely on the shorter side and left a bit of Phantom’s tummy out for all to see, and if he had to take a guess on the owner of the slightly too-big boxers he had on Swiss was probably the safest bet. He didn’t miss the messy hair or how a certain bassist’s scent was clinging to him like moss to a rock right now either, and gave the ghoul a small grin and a nod of acknowledgment before deciding to tease him some more.

“I’m gonna want to wash that in the morning, aren’t I?” He refers to the shirt.

“Someone’s going to be losing their weed privileges, aren’t they?” Phantom shoots right back.

“Touché.”

“Too soon, man, too soon.” Swiss can be heard whining from off to the side of their little standoff.

“Alright, I’m heading off now. Good luck I guess, you’ll need it.” Phantom stretched for a second before grabbing his plate and crackers and heading back towards his room, where there was no doubt a Water ghoul would be awaiting his return.

“We know.” They reply in unison and wave him off before they go grab their harvest and do the same.

Swiss is emptying all of the chips and breadsticks out into two separate bowls when they’re alerted by another door down in the hallway opening, that eerie creak causing their hackles to become raised and their ears to pull back. Dewdrop instinctively put himself between the hallway and his precious cheese singles and meat slices, ready to defend this meal with his life. “Who’s there?” Swiss calls out into the dark hallway.

Their blood runs cold when it’s none other than Mountain who emerges from the dark hallway into the dim, though still much brighter, light of the den, his imposing figure slowly approaching them with heavy steps. Swiss sidesteps over to Dew and holds the Fire ghoul’s hand in his, it was his idea to raid Mountain’s stash and if anyone’s getting their tail ripped off here, it’s going to be him. Before they know it, Mountain is stood right in front of the pair, practically snarling at them as a low rumbling growl permeates throughout the kitchenette. In what is possibly up there amongst the dumbest things he’s ever done when being growled at by a much larger ghoul he’s crossed, Dew reaches behind him blindly, grabbing around until he finds what he hopes will be their saving grace. He picks it up and, wincing as he hopes the Earth ghoul doesn’t just bite his fingers off, presents his peace offering.

“Deli meat?”

Mountain stares at the presented cuts of ham for a good long while, but his decision is finally made when his face softens, rumble dissipating as he lets out a heavy sigh. He wordlessly takes the offering and opens it up, taking a handful of sliced meat for himself before passing it over to Swiss, who only just about manages to hold onto it as he’s still stood there in shock and awe, amazed that Dew’s offering had actually worked as the Earth ghoul scarfed down the ham in record time. It does wonders to show just how hungry a ghoul can get after being mad for hours on end.

Dewdrop feels bold and a little stupid, so he decides to crack out the cheese singles too, and sidles up to Mountain before holding one out to him.

Swiss questions all of his life choices as he stands there in silence while they both watch Mountain eat the entire cheese single within seconds. He hadn’t even removed its plastic covering. Dewdrop was near tears at the horror he was witnessing. This must be their punishment for what they had done, surely.

“You two are just lucky that it wasn’t my main stash.”

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vikki-tikki-tavii · 2 years

Note

Hello! I’m new to the fandom and have been searching the depths of tumblr to find still active arcane blogs and I found yours! And you’re still taking requests I hope! I have a request for our sweet but sassy Viktor?

I was wondering if you could do headcanons for him with a sassy but sweet reader? Like she’s a little ball of sunshine and is always bouncing off the walls with energy and happiness but at the drop of a dime she’s ready to throw hands and gives sassy sarcastic remarks? Kinda like the recent post about a strong reader but with cute tendencies and an attitude problem on occasion?

If not that’s totally ok! I really like your blog btw! Viktor is my favorite! I hope you have a good day!!

Hey now you’re a rockstar tysmmm for stopping by and for the compliments ☺️😘im sooo glad ur enjoying your visit in the Simp Tavern. And oohhh I love this idea! Alright how’s this…

Viktor with a Sweet & Sassy Reader Headcanon

Viktor can’t get enough of your attitude

He adores how you can go from practically singing about it how glorious the day will be- blessing the world and all those who inhabit it

To chewing someone out because they looked at him wrong or made some snide comment

Heck or even just got his order wrong.

Definitely a “Excuse me! He said no pickles!” type of girlfriend.

Even though he thinks you get a little worked up over things he doesn’t think are particularly that important (seriously he can just take the pickles off himself-) he loves how much you’re willing stick up for him

As a kid in the Undercity, he didn’t really have many people look out for him, so when you do it it makes him feel…important and special.

When he asks your reasons for doing what you do, you simple gawk and him and exclaim,

“Because you’re you! You’re worth it Vikky!”

Which then leaves him as a happy, blushing squish :3

Now with that being said, you’re not the only one with an attitude in this relationship…Viktor knows exactly how to deal with you. Because while it may not seem so, he matches your sassiness level

A sass battle between you too will go something like this:

“Dear, can you hand me those notes over there?”

“Oh sure cause God forbid you have stop simping over your precious hexcore for 3.4 seconds to grab them yourself.”

“Interesting…I don’t remember asking for attitude.”

“Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter?”

All the while Jayce is in the background like 👁👄👁

if it weren’t for the half-hearted glares and playful smirks you both wore while you had these little tifs, he would think you two hated each other.

However, if Vik really wants to shut you down, he’ll resort to his secret weapon- a certain nickname that you hate and love simultaneously. A nickname that makes you go from sass queen to stuttering fool.

He decided to use his secret weapon one day when you throw a bit too much attitude his way while trying to convince him to take a break

“Alright listen here you little stickbug — you know as well as I do that I will not hesitate to drag your bony, brittle bum out of this lab so you can get some actual rest. Now are you gonna stop being difficult, or do we have to or the hard way? Or as I like to call it, the fun way?”

Viktor responds by calmy setting down his pen and slowly turning in his stool to look at you as he folds his hands.

His amber eyes boring into yours. Expression calm but somewhat unreadable.

You, believing you had won the battle, begin to smile triumphantly, a gloating comment poised on your tongue, when a familiar mischievous look sparks in his eyes and an impish smirk grows on his lips.

His voice lowers, which only seems to amplify his rich accent, as he opens his mouth to respond to you.

Well…my little girl sure is rather forceful today isn’t she? I’m not sure what type of authority she believes she possesses, but it seems she is really trying her hardest. How cute…”

“While I wholeheartedly appreciate her concern for my wellbeing , she seems to have forgotten that she is not the only one who like to play “the hard way…”

He leans forward, indulging himself in the way your smugness immediately fades into shock, and your face bloom into a delicious shade of pink. His impish look magnifies as he continues,

“Now, will she be a good girl, and wait five minutes so I can finish up, or will she need to be taught a lesson?…Hm?”

You open and close your mouth repeatedly, trying to form some sort of comeback, but you already knew any attempt would be in vain…The moment that first sentence left his lips your, brain had already short-circuited.

Now it’s his turn to be smug. He grins triumphantly as he leans in to place a kiss on your bright pink nose

Good girl it is...smart choice…

@innergardentoadpony I love this prompt holy crap I had so much fun with this-

#asks #ooh boy sassy viktor is 🥵🥵#requests #innergardentoadpony #viktor x reader arcane #arcane viktor headcanons #viktor headcanons #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you

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awesomerextyphoon · 3 years

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I love your writing. May I have Loki x Reader? The reader is a sweet, delicate dreamer. Loki has come to conquer the world. He saw her and wants her to become his Queen of Midgard. He kidnapped her. She pleads with him to let her go while she is tied to the bed. He caresses her hair and says she will love him (he doesn't want to use the scepter on her).

***Can I have White Reader x Loki, please? Loki just escaped from the Helicarrier. He saw the reader who is a sweet and innocent creature. Loki doesn't want her dead when he will start battle. Loki kidnaps her and locks her up to keep her safe. When he wins, Loki tells her that she will become his queen.***

Hi! I decided to combine the prompts and make the reader plus-sized. I hope you enjoy!

His Match

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Plus-Sized Female Reader

Summary: You’ve tried to live by your grandmother’s rule of being kind to others, even when the world gives you the middle finger. What if a Norse God decided reward you by becoming his Queen?

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: 18+/Mature

Warning: Kidnapping, Implied Dub/Non-Con, Angst, and some Violence

A/N: Thanks goes to the amazing @angrythingstarlight for beta reading this!

Loki was walking around New York City, scouting Stark Tower making sure the final preparations of his plan was perfect when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

She walked out of what looked like a women’s clothing store with a forlorn smile. She was plumper than the average female Midgardian last time he frequented the realm. His eyes did not miss the enticing curves that lied beneath her clothes despite her efforts to ensconce herself into the background.

She was a vision.

Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments and it felt like time stopped. His heart quickened in his chest and a rush of blood surged to his groin.

He had to follow her. His Elskan.

“Barton, tell the others I’ll be out for a few more hours. Proceed as planned.”

–––––

He found you entering a rather destitute apartment complex. Its lights and foundation were a bit unsound and gave off a seedy ambience.

Loki grimaced at her living conditions. When he ruled Midgard, she would have only the best.

Casting a simple concealment spell, Loki entered her fairly small apartment. She began mixing ingredients together for what looked to be ‘chocolate chip cookies’. He smiled as he inhaled the sweet aroma knowingly; Asgard had only recently started consuming the sweet. She soon laid out a batch of thick, scrumptious cookies with a satisfied expression.

They reminded him of better times when he and Thor would sneak into the kitchens and swipe confections from under the baker’s nose. Loki chuckled at the memory; those were the days.

Not ten minutes after she placed the last cookie onto the cooling rack did her phone ring. It was her mother. Loki felt dread coming off his Elskan in waves.

Loki could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation, if you could call it that. Her mother constantly nagged her about her weight, life choices, and her ‘pathetic’ attempts to get over her ex-boyfriend. His heart broke as he saw tears begin to fall and the croaking of her voice as she bid the odious creature goodnight.

Several minutes after she cried herself to sleep, Loki entered his Elskan’s bedroom. He spied her diary on the nightstand and decided to read a few pages.

He was fuming within two minutes.

How dare that caustic pig sow treat his Elskan, her own daughter, in a such ghastly manner! Her ‘perfect’ sister always slighting and reminding her on how ‘she’ll never be good enough for anything’ and her father’s callous indifference to her cries for help and solace only added to his rage. Combined with the way her ex-boyfriend, the repugnant gnat, treated her (he cheated on her with someone who ‘wasn’t built like a blimp’ and ‘the only thing you thing you had going for you were your tits’) and he wanted to speed up the invasion just to watch the horror become engrained onto their faces.

And yet, she endeavored to treat everyone with kindness harkening back to your grandmother. She strived to be the one light in one’s otherwise miserable existence.

Well, she can be his light as his Elskan and Queen.

Loki took a deep, cleansing breath. He needed to stick to the plan. When he conquers Midgard, she will be their queen. She will grace the undeserving masses with her elegance and beauty and he will worship her every chance he got.

He just had to make her see it that way.

Gently, the light forest green glow of Loki's magic flowed from his hand to the crown of her head like a halo. He leaned in and kissed her cheek with a smile as he left.

He hated to leave her, but he had a realm to conquer. Though he hoped she’d enjoy the introductory gift.

––––––

You were in your grandmother’s living room; spacious yet comfy with all of her quirkiness and splendor included. It was odd since you haven’t been in her house since your parents sold after her death seven years ago. You tearfully smiled remembering all the good times you had with her, the only member of your family you gave you any true warmth or love.

Her piano was in the corner, barely aged a day with all the music sheets, pens, a light scratches you came to know and love. You took your seat and started to play the piano version of one of your favorite movie themes.

You were so engrossed in playing, you failed to notice someone materializing into your dreamscape.

“What a lovely tune! What is it called?” A smooth, honey-tinged voice broke your concentration.

You turned your head and saw what had to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was tall (6’ 10” / 2.08m) easily towering over any man you’ve ever met. He had smooth alabaster skin, light rose undertones with a little blue-red just under his eyes. His cheekbones were immaculate, somehow looked sharp and soft at the same time. He had thin lips with a fair plumpness to the bottom one. His slicked-back, shoulder-length Ponzu/Shadow Purple hair kissed his lean, battle-hardened physique (if the way he’s filling out his outfit was anyway to go by). All of this deliciousness was clothed in a casual Palm Green suit with a Glossy Black tie and shoes.

It took you a full minute to stop ogling him, “Wha-What did you say?”

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady. I asked what you were playing.” His voice had hints of mirth which was odd considering his appearance. Most people in his league would give you a thinly veiled sneer of disgust, but he seemed genuinely interested.

“Um, well, it’s called Merry-Go-Round of Life from the movie Howl’s Moving Castle. It’s a favorite of mine. I used to play it all the time until…” You trailed off, not wanting to revisit how your grandmother died.

“You do not have to tell me if it brings you such displeasure.”

“Thank you, um…”

“Loki. Please, call me Loki.”

“Loki,” he inwardly moaned at the way you said his name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Please, continue playing.”

And you did for what felt like hours, all while your sexy dream companion asked about your hopes, dreams, anything he could think of really. You in turn asked him about his life and interests; you even laughed at a story of his brother having to dress like a bride to get his hammer back.

You soon became enamored with Loki. It was refreshing to be noticed with actual interest, not ridicule or pity. He seemed to taken with you as well, if his gentle caresses and not-so-subtle lustful glances he gave you were any indication.

You were glad this was just a dream. You didn’t want your heart to break like last time.

Loki was about to lean in for a kiss when everything faded to black.

–––––

You jolted up from the mattress and screamed once you realized you weren’t in your room.

No, this room was…spectacular for lack of better word. It had high ceilings, large windows, ornate chandeliers, and magnificent balcony. Luxurious dark greens, gold, and black covered the room in splendor. Extravagant pieces of furniture dripped with precious stones metal worthy of queens or royal mistresses of old.

“What is this place?”

You tried to leave but was forced back onto the bed by a force field. You tried to take calm breaths just like your therapist taught you in order to make an escape plan.

No sooner did you calm down than the door open to reveal-

“Loki!”

Only Loki was wearing radically different clothing; looked like he walked right out of a fantasy epic. And yet, his smile was enchanting.

“What am I doing here? I need to go back home.”

He tutted in response, “That would not be wise, Elskan Mín. This world is mine now and this is safest place to be.” He was right. His brother’s team of desperate souls were no match for his cunning and Chitauri Forces. Midgard’s pathetic leaders gave up in less than an hour once their beloved ‘heroes’ were defeated, broken, and laid bare before them.

“You can’t be serious, Loki. I need to leave.”

“And go where? Like I said, this realm is mine now. That rat poison of a dwelling is no more and I have dealt with your ‘family’ as needed.” Loki smirked at the memories. It gave him extreme joy squeezing the life out of that worthless pig of mother, breaking every bone in your father’s body one by one, and leaving your ‘perfect’ sister alive with partially rotten skin. Not even the scavengers or maggots would find or want the remains of the scurvy insect of an ex-boyfriend, though he was still alive..just barely.

Well, at least until he decided on how to destroy the blight of creature.

Though he did make sure to leave two of your real friend were treated well. You needed to have someone to talk to while he was away.

You gazed into his Spearmint colored eyes in one last attempt, “Please Loki! If you love me, you’ll let me go!”

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw hurt in his eyes and he glided across the room. You back hit the headboard in you sad efforts to get away from him.

“Elskan Mín, I promise to always love, cherish, and worship every part of your glorious body. You will become Midgard’s queen and my goddess. No. One. Will. Ever. Demean. Or. Slight. You. Again.” he punctuated each word of the last sentence with soft, open-mouthed kisses to your face, neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

You tried to fight him, but it felt so good. His touches sent shots of lightning to your core; plus his lips and fingers were cook to the touch provided excellent contrast to the spike in heat.

You started crying realizing how pathetic this was, to have the first person to profess such feelings be a kidnapper. You were actually contemplating whether or not he was telling the truth.

Loki sensed your sorrow and kissed your tears away. “I know this might be ‘difficult’ at first, but you will love me in time.” He hoped he did not have to use the scepter.

You thought about your dream and all of the effort he was putting into this. It was frightening, but it came from a place of love.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay.

–––––––

@lookiamtrying @jtargaryen18 @sapphirescrolls @jobean12-blog @sweeterthanthis @gotnofucks @mcudarklibrary@saiyanprincessswanie @golden-ariess @navegandoaciegas @stargazingfangirl18 @opheliadawnwalker3 @tilltheendwilliwritee @imanuglywombat @bucky-the-thigh-slayer @navybrat817 @anyatheladyclown @buckysbunny @nacho-bucky @donutloverxo @stephanieromanoff @threeminutesoflife @angrybirdcr @angrythingstarlight @chixkencxrry @hurricanerin @marvelfansworld @the-soulofdevil @captain–barnes @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thebanprincess @winteralpine @leslie2898 @buttercandy16 @propertyofpoeandbucky @hevans-angel @thorfanficwriter @afriendlyblackhottie @avintagekiss24 @syntheticavenger @phant0m-queen @tuiccim @blueberrythor @river-soul @justthehiddleswrites @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

#loki (marvel)#loki x reader #marvel loki x reader #dark loki #loki x female reader #loki x plus-sized reader #mcu imagine #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu au #loki imagines #loki imagines angst #mcu fanfiction #his match #oge answers #tom hiddleston

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Text

The Fox Wedding - RUN [Bad End]

Summary: You are to marry the fox spirit Kita Shinsuke after you accidentally agreed to become his wife by signing the deed to your new home. A contract is a contract, he says, but is there more to this marriage than you know? Will you be whisked away by one of the foxy twins instead, or have to marry Kita after all? Can you be with a creature that only seems tender on the surface, or will you try to run even if it might cost you your life? Choose your route carefully, you never know what these foxes are up to!

Characters: Kitsune!Kita Shinsuke, Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings for this chapter: Major Character Death, Blood mention, Death mention, Animal attack, Gore, Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced/Unhealthy Relationships

What makes a human life worthwhile?

Was it the prospect of forming a family? The continual circle of birth, life, and death? Was it the growing as a person that gave each individual worth? Learning how to laugh and love? Long, thoughtful nights and the achievement of creating something? Relationships, conversations, experiences, are those the things that made it worth to live?

Or was it pain, fear, and fight? Would your worth rise if you had to clench your teeth and run until your lungs threatened you to give up if you didn’t stop and rest? Could your life only gain worth from being so scared that your body trembled, but your senses heightened in an attempt to be warier of your surroundings? Every inch of your body was feelable, every muscle straining to get your attention. The perfect coordination of orders to follow was only achieved by panic and fear of falling into the hands of the people you had to get away from.

Or their paws.

Or their teeth.

These and so many other unimportant questions plagued your mind as you stumbled over roots and against trees as if you were in a haze. Was the brain capable of enduring as much fear as you were feeling, or was the reason for your questions that it was unable to continue feeling this way? Going numb would have been a preferable action, as well as a deadly one. As such, it kept you occupied, one way or another.

A loud bang resounded from behind you. It was still far away but too close at the same time. The loud crashing of a tree in the distance was only spurring you on, spreading panic as you questioned what kind of creature could break down a whole tree. You weren’t clever. You didn’t actually know an answer to that.

You didn’t want to know.

Thicket scratched at your skin, broke it, and drew blood as if it were a hundred deadly arms reaching for you, their nails scratching as they tried to grab you. Nothing in this forest wanted to let you go. Not the trees, not the bushes, not him.

Of course, you had regrets now that you chose to run. You regretted being an idiot and doing this to yourself even though there had been so many warnings. Not one of the fox people had advised you to run - at least at your own. But you couldn’t wait for a prince in shining armor. Or fur. You could wait for nobody to save you from this fate. Breaking out when you found some loose stones around the window of your cell, without proper clothing or a sense of direction, is nothing anyone would suggest you do, but then again: what else could you do?

However, most of all, you deeply regretted that you weren’t running faster.

It was almost as if it was taunting you, the heavy footsteps galloping after you. They weren’t created by feet, but you could recognize them as something very different. Perhaps watching these nature documentaries had been a waste of time, but at least they made you remember the sound of bears running through forests, their big bodies producing a hollow, echoing sound.

Not one inch of your brain wanted to acknowledge what was after you, but you were sure it wasn’t a bear.

Somehow, you wished it was. A creature that wasn’t sentient like a human would be just as deadly, but you imagined that it would be less awful than what awaited you. Even if your body still ran and ran some more, way beyond the point of exhaustion, inside of you, you were slowly losing hope.

Maybe hope is what makes life worthwhile, you thought quietly as you kept pushing forward. Only the sounds of your breathing and gasps left your mouth as you tripped over roots on the ground, but never words. Hope could create inspirations and aspirations. It ‘made mountains move’ and saved people from their worst selves if they could stay hopeful. So when had you given up the hope to escape?

Was it when Kita locked you into that cell? When he mentioned the contract? When these two fox brothers visited you but got sent away? Somewhere along the line, you must have lost it, though perhaps, only just recently, when you realized you had been found out. If this hadn’t felt like a hunt rather than a chase, maybe you could have stayed hopeful. But no matter how hard it was to look truth in the eye, you knew you were the prey of a creature you shouldn’t have messed with. All you wanted was to get out. Out of the forest, out of the vicinity of the monster chasing you.

Out of this seemingly endless nightmare.

If you were to die here, could you say your life had been worth something? Did you always do the things you wanted to do or was breaking out from the prison of the foxes your only glorious achievement? Would you leave earth with regrets or regret leaving?

These questions were the last you could think about before the hellish pain of long, sharp fangs puncturing your torso tore you out of it. How nice would it have been to die instantly on impact, unable to feel how the jaw clenched down, your lungs pierced, and your shoulder entirely crushed by force? Hear the bones cracking in the back of your mind and your arms and legs going limb?

You had imagined death differently. Even if you were unsure how you imagined it, you didn’t think it would be this way. There was so much pain that it stopped hurting. Briefly, the feeling of blood pouring out of you and dripping down your body was noticeable before it disappeared, too, as your ability to feel stopped. You realized in your mind that you shouldn’t have been able to turn your head, but pressed by adrenaline and the last, untorn nerves, you did, looking into the gleaming eyes of your monster. With a head as big as your whole body, you could only recognize the shimmering, white fur. The beautiful blue shine was mesmerizing, captivating you in these last moments of your life. Long tails waved in the far corner of your vision, and blue light illuminated this creature, making you wish it wasn’t so darn beautiful to look at, so you could have felt anything but astonishment.

The next thing you knew, the jaw around you loosened, making you drop to the ground, the last parts of your body that still twitched and jerked starting to cease their movements. In awe, you got to see how the beast turned back into the form of a human, your eyesight growing weaker by the second the more blood you lost, but you were still able to recognize the face that stepped closer, crouching down beside you.

In your head, you formed the thoughts to taunt Kita, rub it into his face how you escaped. Had you been able to, you’d have told him you’d never marry him and that he should stop crying like a child. But you were unable to. Gripping the only hand still intact tightly, Kita brought it to his face, nuzzling it. Blood - your blood - was smeared all over his face, and he kept taking deep, pained breaths of anguish. Even now, he seemed dignified, mourning the death of his beloved, and even now, you despised him for it, thinking he had no right.

“No… no…” he lamented, and you thought that it was unfair he got to cry small blue tears about you while you weren’t able to control what was going on with your body.

“I’m so sorry, [Name]! I’m so sorry… I… I couldn’t control it… I was so angry and hurt… I couldn’t…”

Somewhere in the distance, the sound of other creatures approached, and Kita took a deep breath. As if he could hide these emotions he was feeling by simply pushing them deeper inside of him, he bit his lips to keep them locked inside before deciding he’d rather kiss the back of your hand with his mouth. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “Please… forgive me.”

What kind of man or creature could sit by the side of the person they claimed they loved, mauled, and then ask for forgiveness? His hand brushed over your head as if to comfort you, and you heard more voices approaching, though they turned quiet as they understood what was going on. Someone said something you didn’t understand, and Kita only muttered, “Not yet,” in return. His eyes never left you, and finally, you realized that this was how you were going to die.

By Kita’s side.

Ah, if only you could have said something to him. Something that would have haunted him for the rest of his life if he truly cared for you as much as he assured you before. Finally, you understood these novels where people sought revenge against others. Though it was probably your body torn apart, but it was as if something was eating you from the inside, this intense desire to at least have an impact on your murderer’s life. Take some of the worth from him just like he had taken from you.

“Do you remember--”

His sentences started to become incomplete. Kita’s mouth moved, but you didn’t hear what he was saying. It was hard to see now, your vision was not blurry, but you couldn’t focus anymore.

“--- fox --- gave me --- we --- never ---”

Then, your name. Again. Your shoulders shaking, but all you could focus on was how hard it was becoming to breathe.

“--- don’t leave --- I love ---”

Taking your last breath felt almost like taking a big gulp of water and breathing out afterwards.

And then it was dark.

It should have been different. Your whole life should have been different. Moving to Japan should have been a new start to an entirely new chapter, but it led to the worst decision you had ever made. Perhaps you shouldn’t have run away. Maybe you should have stayed and embraced the marriage. Or you could have waited just a little bit longer for someone who’d keep you safe after all. Even if you had accepted the marriage, something good could have come out of it, and you should have just taken what you could.

But you didn’t. You died in the arms of the creature you wanted to get away from. The person you despised the most for putting you into this situation and killing you. Are you sure this is the path you wanted to take?

Was it worth it to risk your life?

Or will you try again?

➤ Go back to the prologue to change your fate

➤ Stay dead

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arcadianmoonshadowjedi · 3 years

Text

Moving On...

Hey y’all! This is my first fanfic I wrote for the TOA fandom and I’m excited to finally share! Since I felt pretty unsatisfied and disappointed by the ending of ROTT, I felt the urge to write my own version rott fix it fic. This is a pretty bittersweet ending I came up with where Jim makes a different decision with the Kronisphere. I hope this provides you with closure and most importantly, enjoy!

~~~

Heart Shattered, speechless, Jim just couldn't accept that Toby was gone. Tobes, his lifelong best friend since they were kids, gone. If it weren't for his sacrifice, Jim wouldn't have defeated Bellrec and saved the world. When he finally let go of Toby's hand and stood up, he was hugged tightly by Blinky, his surrogate father. He couldn't stop trembling as everyone around him cried. Claire ran to him for a comfort hug. He knew that no one was able to recover from everything they've been through. He was already missing Toby now.

"Master Jim," started Blinky as everyone looked at the green ball rolled towards them. "The Kronisphere" Jim wiped his tears and knelt down to pick it up.

The Kronisphere will make everything right.

Nari's soft voice rang in Jim's head as he figured out its purpose. Time. He could start all over and bring back everyone he loves. Toby, Strickler, Nari, Nomura. Not just them, but everyone he'd lost on his trollhunting journey, Merlin, Draal, Vendel. He noticed everyone around him staring at him waiting for him to make a decision.

"It's your choice, Master Jim," Blinky smiled at him. "Just know, you will always be my son. My magnificent son." Jim knew that behind that smile was a lot of wariness. Aja and Steve held hands tightly and lovingly as they looked on. Then there was Claire, the love of his life who stood across from him with teary eyes. They've been through so much together and he couldn't ask for a better soul mate.

The heroes of Arcadia have all been through so much together. They defeated Gum-Gums, Morgana, Morando, the Arcane Order. Jim turned to look at his fallen best friend and burst to tears once more. He and Toby went through so much in their trollhunting adventures and have had so many victories together leading up to this. Jim clenched the Kronisphere in his fist.

"No" he said as he tossed it. "We've made it this far. We've finally won! We can't just go back and let that all go," With Excalibur in his hand, he lifted it into the air and delivered the blow that would destroy the Kronisphere once and for all to prevent it from ever falling into the wrong hands.

Jim had never been this determined before despite all the pain he felt. "Toby and everyone we lost sacrificed their lives to save the world we live in. If we go all the way back, we not only throw that away, but we bring back everything we fought to destroy." Jim paused and took a deep breath. "We need to honor their memory by moving forward and rebuilding Arcadia for the better,"

He finally knelt down by his best friend and held him tightly in his arms one last time. "Goodbye Tobes," he whispered as tears fell from his eyes onto his friend's cheeks. "Thank you for everything buddy, you'll always be in my heart." Finally everyone knelt down and paid their respects to their fallen friend. Aaarrrgghh, finally recovering from his mental breakdown, approached and knelt down by Toby, grabbing his hand. "Goodbye... wingman,"

***

In the days to follow, on a dark, gloomy morning, the remaining trollhunters gathered along with the Arcadian citizens to mourn those they have lost along with the destruction of their home. All dressed in black and surrounded by rubble and debris, they held hands and sought to comfort one another.

After giving Toby the proper burial he deserved, Jim walked up to the podium and grabbed the mic, looking ahead at the grieving audience. Darci grieved her beloved T.P. as her father and Mary held her tight to comfort her. Nancy Domzalski wailed uncontrollably in Varvatos's giant arms. "I should've said goodbye to my Toby Pie when he went off to college," she sobbed harder as Varvatos stroked her gray hairs with his three fingers. "Your grandson fought with valor and honor. He had... a glorious death,"

Claire stood with Barbara who was grieving her fiancé and they held hands as they looked towards Jim, encouraging him before his speech. He cleared his throat and finally spoke.

"Tobias Domzalski was more than just my best friend and fellow Trollhunter, he was my brother. He's always been there for me since we were kids. He always supported me in all my adventures and I know for a fact I wouldn't be the trollhunter I am today if it weren't for him. I couldn't have asked for anyone else to find the amulet that day in the canals. He was with me from the start, and he will always be with me," Jim placed his hand over his heart and looked up to the sky, smiling with tears in his eyes. "Rest in peace Tobes. I'll always remember you,"

As Jim stepped away from the podium, a round of applause along with sniffles came from the audience. Everyone walked towards the pictures of Arcadia's fallen heroes and placed flowers and other things they've remembered them with.

Jim and Claire walked towards each other and reached out for a heartwarming hug.

"You did great up there," Claire whispered in his ear as she stroked his hair. He held her even tighter and buried his face in her shoulder. They looked at each other tearfully and lovingly as they held each other tight.

"I love you Claire, always and forever,"

"I love you too, Jim Lake,"

They held each other once again, not intending on letting go anytime soon.

***

In the years to come, the citizens of Arcadia all worked together to rebuild their beloved home while Blinky and Aaarrrgghh rebuilt Heartstone Trollmarket from the revived heartstone, inviting the trolls from Hoboken, the quagawumps, and from all around the world to come help them and live there. The citizens of Arcadia were eventually welcomed to Trollmarket as friends and trolls would always be welcomed to Arcadia to spend the night with their fellow humans.

As for the fallen heroes, they each had statues built in Arcadia. Despite the Hero's Forge always having previous Trollhunters chosen by Merlin, Toby had a statue of him built there by his wingman with his warhammer in his hand. To honor one of his valued customers, Stuart renamed his taco truck Toby D. Burritos. Strickler's portrait was hung at the school where everyone would see. The museum honored Nomura by showcasing troll, extraterrestrial, and magical history and promoting harmony. Last but not least, a vast, colorful garden was planted in the center of town in memory of Nari. Each and every one of their stories, along with those of everyone who fought for Arcadia and the world, would continue to be told for centuries to come.

The remaining heroes of Arcadia all went their separate ways, but not after a heartfelt goodbye. They each promised to stay in touch and to unite wherever the fight takes them. Douxie traveled to Hong Kong after receiving a spare Horngazel from Trollmarket to save Archie and Charlemagne, always keeping a flower pot with him. Steve moved to Akiridion-5 to be with Aja and to become a co-Earthen ambassador with his fellow Creepslayer Eli. Nancy was unable to stay in Arcadia any longer on her own, so she moved to Akiridion-5 to be with Varvatos, but always kept her Toby-Pie in her heart. Krel stayed in Arcadia and helped advance the technology available on Earth and promoted further education on extraterrestrial presence at the high school. Barbara continued to save lives in the hospital while also strengthening ties between humans and Trollkind. She never stopped wearing Walt's engagement ring and always made sure to keep his memory alive.

As for Jim and Claire, they eventually married and built their home in Arcadia. They had a girl, Deya Nuñez-Lake and a younger boy, Toby Nuñez-Lake. The two kids would never get bored of hearing their parents' trollhunting adventures and the story of Toby's heroism and sacrifice before bedtime. They were always eager to accompany their parents to Trollmarket and role play their parents' adventure with their favorite troll Aaarrrgghh. They also loved when Blinky would share trollkind's marvelous adventures from the start of time.

Arcadia had become an attraction site known worldwide for all the crazy magic and extraterrestrial activity that people would crave to visit in their lifetimes. It may have been at peace in recent times, but that doesn't mean there wouldn’t be any future threats to come. But the trollhunters battled life-threatening wars in the past, and would be ready for whatever comes their way.

~~~

Thank you so much for reading this! This definitely took a huge toll on me to write and I was pretty emotional but writing this helped me cope with my disappointment with the movie’s ending. I do plan to do another fix it but with a happier ending where Toby and Strickler are alive so stay tuned!

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primasveraas-writing · 3 years

Text

“I will wait (for you)” -Luke Skywalker

Request: “I cannot get enough of your headcanons and preferences. Possibly could you do headcanons about the reader who wants to tell luke their feelings before they leave on a mission and opt out because they feel it's not the right time. Then when they return ( their missing took longer than expected) they aren't sure about telling luke for the fear that he has moved on. Luke senses that something is off and confronts the reader who then tells him their feelings. Thank you in advance, hope you are well. Sorry it's long.” -the-mcu-stu-fan

Thank you thank you thank you for your patience and for the wonderful request- I felt this worked better as a fleshed-out fic, so here it is! I really hope you like it.

WORD COUNT: 1114

XXX

“Luke.”

There are a thousand things you could say.

You’ve just received your new mission orders- long-term, undercover, highly dangerous. Typical for a member of the Rebel Alliance; leaving everything behind for the sake of the cause. Everything and everyone you care about, including-

Luke smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Your heart skips a beat in your chest. When he looks at you like that, you can’t help but melt. Even before you truly knew the Jedi, before you became friends, Luke had that affect on you.

He takes a step closer, still waiting. Your mind goes blank, and suddenly the words are gone. You cannot force them out of your mouth anymore, and the opportunity has disappeared.

“I’m leaving,” You say instead, totally numb. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks.”

And that’s all.

---

Luke sends you off with a hug and a may the Force be with you. Your ship departs the next morning, and there’s barely any time for you to wallow in your regrets and imagine all the different ways that last conversation with Luke could have gone.

The Rebellion puts you behind enemy lines, deep in the heart of Imperial territory. Getting into position takes a few days, then you wait patiently for the information to flow your way. Weeks pass before you’re trusted, a comfortable part of the team, and slowly, piece by piece, you gather intel and help your fellow rebels from the inside where you can.

The hardest aspect of your work is knowing that if you slip up even once, you could die and put others at risk too. For the most part, you don’t let this fear plague you, but it’s harder to keep other problems at bay.

Like the loneliness. Knowing that everyone around you would kill you if they discovered even just your real name, that they’re constantly working to destroying everything you believe in.

Luke would tell you to be more optimistic. He keeps you grounded and gives you hope, which is why you value his companionship and advice so much.

But Luke isn’t here. And, as the weeks crawl into months, you push all thoughts of Luke aside. He isn’t here, and it’s been ages since you’ve last seen him, when you failed to tell him how you really feel.

The opportunity has been lost, you decide.

So you focus on your mission instead.

---

The thing about covert undercover missions is that when they end, there’s no fanfare to welcome you back.

You return to the Rebellion in the dead of night, exhausted and with a mission report waiting for you. Sure, you’re glad to be back, to be marginally safer now, but the Rebellion and the war change quickly, and you’ve missed so much of it. The lives of your friends, their fates, even their petty gossip- you’re behind, entirely out of the loop.

Upon stumbling back to your quarters, you flop on your bed with a groan. Your mattress isn’t comfortable, nor are your quarters anything but borrowed, but you’re more at home here than you were with the Empire.

That’s good enough, for now.

You sleep deeply, but wake up still tired.

---

The first day back is a blur- most of your higher-ups want an official report and a debrief, trying to glean everything they can from your experience. Some friends stop when they see you, greeting you with hugs and smiles, but for the most part, you’re stuck in command, doing your best to stay attentive and helpful.

It’s manageable until that afternoon. You’re between meetings, trying to remember the weapon arsenal on Imperial flagships when a brief hush falls over the command center before whispers break out again. You know what this means; you’ve seen the awe that follows the hero of the Rebellion, and sure enough, a familiar voice rings out a second later.

You can’t help but swivel around to see him. There is Luke, talking with Princess Organa, shaking his head at something she’s saying. He’s there for her, not you, and your breath is now unsteady, so you duck your head, turning back to your desk.

“Y/n!”

He’s seen you. You feel shaky, like if you weren’t holding yourself together, you’d start to cry. But Luke is making his way over, and you rise slowly to greet him.

Luke embraces you without hesitation, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tight, a surprising chuckle escaping him as he does. “I didn’t know you’re back!” He exclaims, pulling back. His grin is wide and brilliant, and he beams at you.

You flash him a quick smile in return, explaining both your return and prolonged absence. “I missed a lot,” you trail off, and Luke bobs his head in agreement.

“You sure did,” he says, and your heart sinks. He’s an arms distance away from you now, and the awkwardness between you is palpable. A flash of sadness strikes you, but you force your expression into neutrality once more.

“I have to go,” you blurt automatically, gathering your datapad. Disappointment is clear on Luke’s face, but you cannot face him any longer, and you hurry from the room. Luckily, the hallway is deserted, and you exhale slowly as your retreat continues.

Then, there are footsteps behind you. “Y/n, wait!” Luke calls, and he’s running to catch up with you. You sigh and stop, preparing to explain yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Luke demands, his brow furrowed. “What happened; what can I do?”

He sounds heartbroken. Really, truly worried, and the hurt in his voice sinks your heart, reminding you that your affections are still there and still strong.

“I-” There’s a lump in your throat, and the idea of hiding any longer is painful. “I love you,” you say, voice near a whisper as you study your feet. “And I’ve missed you this whole time.”

The pause is long and horrible, and you cannot take this agony. You wince, then spin on your heel, ready to run again, but Luke grabs your arm.

“Wait,” he pleads. You meet his eyes, and there’s a well-known earnestness in them. You do wait, again, but only for a second, because Luke closes the gap between you, tugging you against him and bending to kiss you. For one glorious moment, the galaxy stands still, and light floods your senses as pure joy overtakes you.

“I love you too,” Luke promises when he’s done, resting his forehead against yours.

“Okay.” Perhaps there are better responses, but your head is spinning. You lean against Luke, wrapping your arms against his waist. Then, you take a breath, recentering yourself. “I’ll never wait to tell you again.”

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker drabble #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker headcanons #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker fanfic

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

taoreta

— The world is in ruins, but there’s beauty in everything. Shouto is reminded of that when he crosses paths with a survivor who kisses him at the first meeting. —

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, apocalypse!au, cursing, violence, first time writing fight scenes, death, angst, fluff, blood, gore, vomit, & kinks (sexual frustration, hairpulling, biting, marking, scratching, desperation, breeding)

word count: 18,119

a/n: so the thing about apocalypse aus I found out is that the world building is so fucking fun that I forgot that this was an nsfw thing........ so I sincerely apologize if this feels rushed I tried to make this feel solid but like with enough world building to satisfy me. anyways, this is for the bnharem collab, you know the drill. this was not edited at all im so sorry.

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The world was in chaos.

Or well, it once was but still a hundred years after what could only be described as an apocalypse; well, there was still an apocalypse.

Many years ago, well before Todoroki Shouto could remember, quite frankly well before he was alive there had been the introduction of something within the human genome. It was a mutation of sorts, a new gene that allowed individuals to unlock and evolve into these powerful beings that for years longer people used to write about.

People who could breathe fire, emit ice, and fly through the sky! For years it had been a glorious step forward for humankind, a hopeful promise that maybe things would be better — that all things would end better. If Shouto looked hard enough he could still see scattered newspapers in the abandoned streets; nearly destroyed papers from well before any of his parents or grandparents were born indicating the glory days of quirks.

But what was once thought to be a step forward in human evolution ended with a sickening twist.

Those with quirks went on rampages the moment they turned twenty-five, slaughtering and killing everyone in their path. Their mind overtaken by their quirks with the single thought and decision to kill everyone who dared to stop them, who were weaker than them. It must have been terrifying back then, to be so meek, powerless, and afraid seeing people you had once cheered on in acceptance and grace kill off the population in the millions.

Humankind could never survive this.

Those gifted with such powerful feats were granted the ability to live on as immortals, that is until humanity decades later learned it was not true immortality. It was a mere obstruction that was solved when the quirk-given was killed by man. Other than that… they lived on, and on, and on. The false immortality yet another edge against humanity.

People with quirks — better known as the Taoreta today — were the modern-day zombies except there was no rise of the dead, no mass groups of people who craved your flesh and your blood.

No.

They were once users with quirks who appeared just like normal people, sure some of them had distinct quirk features, but for the most part, unless they were distinctly different you couldn’t tell until it was too late.

Todoroki Shouto was different though.

He was apart of the few lasting survival groups in Japan, in the world.

His group was called Yuuei, a collective group of nearly two hundred people who occupied a deserted boarding school entitled U.A. They were apart of the population that was considered to be quirkless, and well, no one had been born with a quirk within this base yet.

This boarding school, but what Shouto had been able to piece together after spending his entire livelihood in the confines of the barbed wired, specially scented gates they lived in. The Gladiolus flower was the worlds saving grace.

By planting these flowers among bases and fragrancing them along borders and barriers, your area was both ignored by those with quirks or smelled so disgusting to those with quirks they would never dare cross. Of course, this wasn’t always true — Shouto had seen too many times the few outliers of this truth stumble towards the base.

Eyes power-hungry, quirks blaring a kilometer away and that horrific silence before a battle. These monstrous onslaughts had decimated his entire bloodline, leaving him only by himself with his friends and chosen family. Everyone had still thought him lucky, he was born around the same time as twenty other babies. His entire life he had grown up in an environment where he always had someone to play with, to learn with, to practice with.

Children were forced to grow up fast in this time and age, no longer was the world of coddling and gentle love. If you loved your children you would teach them how to be resourceful, teach them how to fight, how to kill. By the time you turned fifteen within Yuuei, you were expected to pitch in to survive. Formal classroom education continued on all the way until you were eighteen, but it was known that everyone needed to maintain some sort of educational standard so that Yuuei would never fall internally.

Everyone had a part to play, a piece to do in order to keep things running smoothly.

There were the low-risk jobs within Yuuei starting with the janitors. They were in charge of making sure the school grounds and indoors remained safe and tidy. They applied the Gladiolus flower extract to the gates daily during the fall and winter as the flowers died out by then. It was an easier job, one that was given more to the young children and the elders who could no longer do much else.

Then there were the chefs. They were in charge of the grand garden the community had created many decades ago. They harvested and cooked plenty of vegetables throughout the year, always managing to make just enough so that no one went hungry or starving for more than a day. As recently as thirty years ago, they had introduced their form of animal raising too. Mostly raising and killing deer that had stumbled within their main gates.

Then there was the government. The main part of the government consisted of three people — the president, the vice president, and the one training to one day become president. They took these jobs seriously, meeting every day to see what the community’s latest problems were, discussing to the hundreds of civilians working within this base to make sure civil conflict never broke out. There was also a council made of one member of each residing family member — Shouto remembers that it was his mother who was apart of the council when she was alive… he had assumed this role after she tragically passed, but it was not his only job.

Then there were the educators. These were the ones who dedicated their lives to learning and studying everything they could within their limited, never truly evolving standards so that each younger generation could have a solid foundation within this new world. Shouto remembered how Fuyumi had been so excited to finally reach the end of her second year as a teacher, her eyes delightfully hopeful, ever so clear and bright despite the life they lead.

You could never forget the engineers and the mechanics here — after all, they held one if not the most important job. They were the reason why there was still energy and electricity running through the base, why running water was able to be used by members twice a month, why truly life on base hadn’t erupted into a complete dystopia, and of course, keeping the seekers and the medics alive.

Medics were a given. They were the true saving grace of the camp, Shouto thought so at least. They healed physical injuries, as there were always plenty of those, and they smoothed over mental trauma which was prevalent in every corner of this base. Without medics, they would have never survived this long. Shouto still frequents them aplenty, his trauma from the death of his family still weighing heavily on his chest, his lips always dry and cracked when he remembered how his older brother Natsuo had been ecstatic to join the medical line. He was so big and intimidating in size many had always questioned why he wasn’t a seeker, but Shouto knew his brother had the kindest heart, he wasn’t a fighter unless he had to be.

And finally, there were the seekers. Seekers were by far the most pivotal, most dangerous, and least rewarding role within the base. Twice to three times a week, seekers were to leave the base and go out and search for survivors, resources, anything that may be useful. While for the past hundred years that people have resided in U.A. the local town had been their saving grace, always relying on the abandoned town for their needs, but they had cleared it years ago. Now seekers went out further to get items, all while still doing their basic patrols, and of course fighting off any Taoreta. When they weren’t out running around the country, they were doing patrols around the base to ensure they were always safe. This is the job Shouto has — a job that most of his friends held too. His father and Touya had also held this job long ago, but he had never been able to accomplish a successful run with them…

No… he had to block out that memory.

“Oi, Todoroki!” a voice clipped through his headspace, and Shouto looked away from the cabinet he was once rummaging through. “Get your head outta your ass and do something already, dammit.”

He turned to look at Bakugou who was as grimy and dirty as he was, only that his bag was full of crap and Shouto’s only had dust. Shouto nodded, an apology leaving his lips when his eyes returning back to the already pillaged cabinets and scoured what he could, collecting what he thought to be useful for the base.

It took fifteen minutes for Bakugou and Shouto to pillage all the abandoned homes on this street, they were a great duo together, often working together due to their abrasive and deadly styles and intellect on the field. They had a kill list of three Taoreta together, and an individual score of one on their own, it didn’t seem like much, but coming from people who held no power over these god-like humans, it was incredible. Most people never survived more than one attack from the Taoreta.

But it wasn’t anything to be relieved over, especially not when each survived victory landed them both in hospice care for months.

“Sector five has been cleared,” Shouto spoke into his telecom the moment Bakugou and he emerged from the final house, his eyes glancing at the setting sun in worry. “How’s everyone else doing? Sun setting.”

“We’re all on the car already, waiting on you guys!” came Midoriya’s instant reply.

“This is all your fault,” Bakugou grumbled bitterly while the two of them turned on their heel and began running towards the car they had taken here. “Last as always!”

“We had the most houses to loot, Bakugou, it’s a given,” was Shouto’s easy response, not at all affected by the huffing annoyance of his friend while they reached the car.

Easy and grateful smiles were exchanged between the six seekers when Shouto and Bakugou rejoined the group, a whole day of running this block had left them with zero casualties. On top of all this, they all had full bags of taken items; Shouto considered it a tremendous victory.

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“And what are we checking in today, Todoroki-kun?” Iida asked while Shouto dumped his bag onto the table.

“Toilet paper, paper rolls, canned peaches, flour, rice, medication formula for birth control, expired condoms, and some water,” Shouto listed off, pulling out the items one by one to the nodding Iida.

Iida was a member of the council, and also a seeker much like Shouto was. He was objectively the fastest seeker they had, often clearing out entire rows of houses in half the time it took everyone else. Iida was someone Shouto appreciated very much in this doomful life, a clear leader, and a promising candidate for the presidency one day.

“Oh! The canned peaches could make an excellent addition to Momo’s birthday coming up soon! Kirishima-kun and Sato-kun hit the jackpot with sugar yesterday! This would be a great celebration!” Iida announced, partitioning the different items into different baskets, each one placed into appropriate bins. Shouto remained silent, but he nodded his head, a tired sigh pushing through his lungs while Iida finished putting away his found items. “Momo will also be glad to finally have this formula in her hands, she’s been trying so hard at cracking the code for birth control! But alright! Now for checking in weapons, what do you have for me?”

Shouto’s hands immediately moved to the holsters strapped to his legs.

By being born into this madness, he was never given the right to using any of the guns they held. Guns and ammunition were scarce to come by, they were even more scarce than some of the items they were consistently running out of. When they turned eighteen, each member was given three bullets to attempt to sink it into a target 100 meters away, sink two bullets in, and you were given the right to carry a gun, miss and you wouldn’t.

Of Shouto’s graduating class of forty-one students, only three of them were granted that ability — and two of them weren’t even seekers.

Shouto handed over the knives he had strapped to his muscled thighs, the katana that was strapped to his back, and the brass knuckles that sat on his fists. He remained silent while handing over the fire and ice bombs he had managed to perfect under his parent’s original formulas. He never understood why he wasn’t allowed to keep those bombs, he was the only one who ever checked them out after all, but again, civil disputes could occur at any time, and if the seekers had weapons the rest of the base would be doomed.

“Everything’s accounted for, Iida?” Shouto asked watching while Iida placed everything away.

“Yes!” Iida confirmed, a smile on his face while his hands placed onto his hips with confidence. “Go and get dinner and take a shower!”

Shouto smiled softly. If there was one good thing about being a seeker that wasn’t just experiencing the outside world, it definitely was the fact that being a seeker meant you got to shower more regularly than everyone else.

Dinner was plain as always, a bowl of rice, a slice of deer meat, and an egg. There were a lot of hens here.

Shouto sat with his friends while he ate, quietly adding on to conversations, contradicting his friends whenever he could. It was the little things in life that kept him going honestly, and little things were having Bakugou trying to reach across the dining tables to strangle him while Midoriya and Kirishima intervened. It never failed to make him smile.

“What’s your new schedule for the week, Todoroki?” Kirishima asked, his head dodging Bakugou’s flying elbow with a sharklike grin.

Kirishima was an odd person within this base, he had sharp teeth that reminded everyone of a shark — most people had always assumed it was a side effect of a quirk that had been hidden for ages, but it turned out that while humans evolved quirks for the worse, they were evolving still. Shouto’s own naturally bicolored hair was a testament to that.

“I go on runs Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday,” Shouto spoke with food chipmunked into his cheek. “Council meets on Tuesday, Thursday as always, so I have patrol at night those days. Weapon checkout and morning patrol Monday. Saturday’s my day off.”

“Oh, nice! Looks like all of us have Wednesday and Friday together!” Kirishima cheered, his arms finally letting go of Bakugou who had… calmed down. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a good stash and other sur— OW!”

Kirishima’s eyes narrowed onto Bakugou who had deliberately slammed an elbow into his ribcage, but his face softened at the thought of the word he was going to say.

Shouto smiled softly, his head shaking despite it all and he stood up.

“I’m going to go and shower, one of the floors gave through today so I’m a bit exhausted,” Shouto explained, gathering the reusable plate, cup, and chopsticks he had assigned to him. He would scrap any residual food off it and wash it tomorrow — about twenty years ago the mechanics had managed to figure out a reusable and self-cleaning water system used to wash dishes. It was a game-changer for this community.

The echoing goodnights followed after Shouto while he left the dining hall, his hands fisted into his pockets while he climbed the ten flights of stairs to get to his room’s floor.

U.A.’s building was very unique by the looks of it, even for its time when it was first built. It was created with four separate towers, each tower connected with a single walkway to its adjacent tower. From a ways back it looked like an H — at least to Shouto it did. It was to Shouto’s understanding that each tower was designated for different professions for the once Taoreta thriving society. One tower was for hero-in-training students, one tower for general students, one tower for support students, and one tower for business students — at least that was what was understood by the textbooks found in these old classrooms. Of the four towers, only the support student tower was uninhabited because there were always modifications and major systems running there and they needed all the room.

Shouto, along with most of his friends, resided in the hero-in-training tower. Because he had once had such a large family his room — something that was greatly unappreciated by the other members of the community — Shouto had to climb all the way to the top of the building.

No one else resided on this floor with him, which was often nice because it had once meant he and his family could do whatever they wished. But with their passing, it was so lonely, so offputting that Shouto only returned to his room to sleep and that was it.

The shower was comforting tonight, the gentle smell of the soap drafting off his body along with thick suds eased him. His shower lasted only a whooping two minutes; they had been taught how to efficiently shower, wasted water was always a downfall. Even with the major technological advances they made, running water was still a problem they had yet to solve. His dirty grimy skin that hadn’t showered in three days sang in relief with the dirt gone; his last seek was that many days ago after all.

With a towel around his waist, he walked back to his room, the suffocating darkness strangling him when he stepped into the room. Shouto paid no attention to the way his skin crawled in loneliness, his attention focused on placing the toothpaste pill on his tongue and grimacing at the sharp, minty taste. It seemed that Mei was messing around with the flavors again.

Finally satisfied with his clean-smelling breath, Shouto wasted no time in crawling into his bed, his eyes concentrated on his journal that read practically what was the same thing it always said every day he wrote an entry into it (the medics said that these entries were healthy for his mental wellbeing):

September 16, 2XX1

It’s been eight years since everyone died, and another day spent working. I’m not feeling any different from the day before, but I am looking forward to celebrating Yaoyorozu’s birthday this coming Saturday. It won’t be any different from last year, but it should be fun.

Signed, Todoroki Shouto

It took some time, but eventually sleep consumed Shouto, his mind restless despite his slumber.

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Shouto paused when the blood on the door handle easily transferred onto his fingers. He pressed his fingers to his palm, the padding on the fingerless glove shining dully with the slick of blood across the material. He could only make one conclusion from this: it was recent.

“I just made contact with fresh blood,” Shouto spoke into the radio system, his eyes concentrated on the door he was supposed to enter through. “I’m going in, if I don’t respond in five minutes, assume the worst and leave.”

“If it’s an injured Taoreta—” Bakugou warned, his voice the first to respond over the com system, but Shouto already knew what his best partner would say to this.

“Can’t have me having all the glory, I know. Besides, I don’t think it’s a Taoreta, there’s no major damage anywhere and well… if it’s injured there should be some fight scene.”

Shouto’s lips tugged into a small smile when Bakugou began to argue back about how he noticed there was no major destruction around this part of the block, and he dropped his scavenger bag onto the floor. If this was a survivor there was no saying if they were good or bad, and well, Shouto wasn’t about to fight a bad one with 10 kilograms on his back.

The door creaked loudly when he entered, his hand pulling out the hunting knife he had. The other day his typical go-to katana had been broken during a brief battle between a weak Taoreta and a veteran seeker. It had been a hard loss, Shouto wouldn’t lie, but it was manageable because his knives had been salvaged.

He crept in silently, the soles of his combat boots nearly silent against the floor while he walked in, his concentrated on the scene around him, all senses on high alert due to the insane anxiety from this all. His eyes dragged across every crook and nanny of the entrance room, not quite sure what to expected from this until he saw something ruby red smudged on the floor.

With a small nod to himself, Shouto proceeded forward, following the light trail of blood until he stopped into a room where the trail ended and no one was. He frowned looking around the abandoned room, old and long faded drawings covered the walls, the bed hastily made, and crayons scattered on the floor.

Maybe the person had already left, he thought glancing down at the crayons figuring that they would be good to take back. But the moment that he turned to face the door, was when he finally saw someone, and it was a good thing too because he ducked out of the way of a quick, most definitely life ending swing of a bat that held multiple nails in it.

Shouto’s eyes were wide while he dodged and weaved out of the way of the swinging bat, strong elbows bashing into his ribs, and the occasional nail tearing into his skin. He could barely focus on his attacker, his concentration heavy on the way that this person was tirelessly fighting for their life despite the exhaustion in their bones.

He weaved and dodged the flying wood, cursing at the way it nicked his skin in multiple places, and how their foot slammed into his stomach. It knocked the wind out of Shouto as he fell onto the floor, the wild look in their eyes as the bat arched downward only to miss him, embedding into the floor. Shouto took that as an initiative to slam his foot onto the hilt of the bat, the weapon clanging onto the floor while he tackled his attacker onto the floor.

“Let go!” you shrieked, your eyes in a panic while you attempted to twist your body out from under Shouto. “I’m not going to let you fucking kill me, you stupid fucking Taoreta!”

Now that bothered Shouto.

“I’m not some damn Taoreta!” Shouto spat back, his eyes narrowing down onto how you were struggling against his hold. Blood was dried and matted onto your forehead, dirt, grime, and soot-covered every exposed millimeter of your body, and blood-soaked your arm.

With that simple sentence, Shouto watched in almost confused annoyance when you snapped up to look at him. Your hair was matted, it was obvious that while you weren’t horrendously smelly, you hadn’t bathed in days. Your lips were cracked and pale, and your eyes looked so scared, lost, and still… excited? The tears that poured down your face highlighted the clearer skin that was covered by the dirt.

“Are you okay? You’re smiling pretty weir— mmph?!”

Shouto’s words were stolen from his tongue for you had reached upward in this desperate, frantic glee and kissed him firmly on the lips. It wasn’t often that Shouto froze, and honestly, he could count the number of times he had been frozen to the core, but with this desperate, longing kiss on his lips that exploded fire onto his cheeks, he was unable to move. He was only able to feel the wet streaks from your cheeks pressed onto his, focus on the heavy frantic breathing that passed through your nose.

His eyes blinked rapidly while you pulled away from him, a starstruck look on your face.

“It’s… it’s been a year since I’ve seen anyone who wasn’t a Taoreta,” you awe, fingers pressing onto his cheeks in an attempt to make sure this was actually real. “Are you real? You’re real right? Please don’t tell me you’re—”

“TODOROKI, ARE YOU ALIVE!” a voice bellowed, the door being kicked open, and both Shouto and you looked at the entrance of the room to see Bakugou standing there with his weapons drawn, teeth bared in a silent cry of war.

Shouto didn’t know what to do, feeling as if the world’s gravity was crushing onto him while he gathered the confused, appalled look in Bakugou’s eyes while he looked down onto the interesting position he was in. You, on the other hand, felt more tears forming in your eyes at the sight of yet another survivor.

“The fuck you playing hooky for?!” Bakugou yelled, his face contorted with disgust and something unreadable when staring at the position the two of you were in. “Who the fuck is this?!”

Shouto remained speechless, his mind still stuck on the fact that you had kissed him like separated lovers and not the strangers that you were. Worse off he was caught in an embarrassing position by Bakugou of all places who was quite frankly the meanest guard dog they had. You weren’t given a second to speak, to try to clarify who you were and why you were here because Bakugou clicked everything together far faster than you could defend yourself.

“Don’t tell me this is a fucking Taoreta with a damn love quirk!” Bakugou snapped, grabbing Shouto by the collar and throwing him off you.

Your eyes widened in a panic, the sickening sound of unsheathing steel ringing venomously in your ears while Bakugou drew dual arming swords. You scrambled backward immediately, hands finding the hilt of your bat and spinning up to your feet in a readying position. Like hell you were going to be murdered.

“Bakugou, stop!” Shouto yelled, pushing himself up onto his feet while the blond-haired man shot forward at you.

He cursed annoyedly, unable to intercept or intervene Bakugou’s explosive fighting style with just his knives. But he also realized that you weren’t failing at keeping Bakugou away with just a bat in the small room. Swings of steel and wood whistled in the air while the two of you went at it, useless battle soaked insults being thrown left and right while Shouto could only watch as the swords embedded into the bat, and then into a wall.

Shouto acted quickly, his arms circling under Bakugou’s armpits, his hands locking around his head and yanking him away.

“She’s not a damn Taoreta, she’s a survivor!” Shouto yelled again, both of them stumbling backward and landing on the floor while you remained frozen by the wall. Both the weapons stable in the wall despite the horror of what could have been the end of your life.

“How the fuck would you know that?! She could be brainwashing you for all we know!” Bakugou yelled, his body twisting and turning, trying to get out the larger mans hold. “Slimy little shit got you didn’t she?!”

“I’m not a Taoreta!”

“She’s not a Taoreta!”

You and Shouto yelled in synch, your fingers thrusting up to your eyes. “Do you see my sclera?! They’re not fucking red!”

The two men froze in their struggles to get the other to obey their commands, both raising their attention to you, shocked by what you said.

“What do you mean?” Shouto asked, his arms still holding Bakugou in place, his eyes landing on you confused.

You, on the other hand, froze. Your eyes blinked owlishly, fingers curling into a weak fist and placing onto your stomach, “Have you guys never noticed? Taoreta always has their scleras turn red and they grow darker with prolonged quirk use… that’s how you know how strong and how long they’ve been around. The stronger they are, the redder the sclera.”

“Get the fuck off me,” Bakugou growled, his body twisting against Shouto, but Shouto was too busy thinking about what you said, his mind sucked into his memories of that fateful night. “Bastard, I’m not gonna attack her! Let me fucking go already, dammit!”

Shouto let go immediately, watching as his friend rolled over onto his knees and stood up without a single hitch. Bakugou yanked his swords from the wall letting your bat fall onto the floor with a loud crash. His eyes burned into you, watching you with a borderline sneer until he walked away.

“Figure out what the fuck we’re doing with her, five minutes until we have to leave,” was the only thing Bakugou uttered before leaving the building.

“What to do with me?” you echoed, your fingers twitching down towards your bat. “Don’t tell me the first people I find in a year are cannibals!”

Shouto’s face twists while looking up at you, your hands once again grabbing your bat raising it up in an act of self-defense; agony and disbelief overflowing in your face. It was bleeding obvious now that you had been alone for ages, the already emotional polar ends of yourself revealed to Shouto even before he knew your name.

“You need to calm down, we’re not cannibals, Bakugou literally walked away. If we were, you would have been dead already,” Shouto reasoned, his hands held up in a signal of surrender while he stood. His words were calm and steady, his “We’re a part of a surviving group, and we have a base up on the mountain north from here. You’re the tenth person we’ve found out here, and if you would like, we can offer you a place.”

“How can I trust you? You could be some cult group for all I know! Using me as some breeding whore to bring the second coming of the taoreta!” you panicked, your eyes wild with the fabricated lies you were drawing in your mind. “I don’t have the hips to have a child! I won’t bear your dumb cult a child!”

Shouto blinked, a low headache forming behind his eyes while he looked at your heaving form. He studied you closer now, your bat was frozen in place while you stared back. Your cheeks were sunken from lack of nutrients, your lips pale and cracked, and your eyes (once you ignored the savage glint to it) were like glass. You were not okay, even if you had managed to fight both Bakugou and him, there was no doubting that you hadn’t eaten in days.

Shouto sucked in his cheeks, by the looks of it you were running on pure adrenaline at this point — not actual energy.

“Meet back at the car in five,” Kirishima’s voice rang in the headset, and Shouto’s mouth pursed.

“We’re not cannibals, or a cult, or whatever weird groups of people you’ve run into. We’re just… people trying to live to see the next day. Come with us, or not, I can’t convince you, but we have shelter... food, water, showers. If you want, we can be a place for you to stay, if you want.” Shouto speaks softly, his hands are lowered at his waist, trying to show that he wasn’t a threat to you. It didn’t matter to him if you went with them — you were just a stranger after all — but he wouldn’t feel right letting you go without trying to save you.

You hesitate, your eyes looking down at your feet while you contemplate. He remains quiet, the voices of his friends ringing in his ears while they communicate on their way back to the car. But finally, he saw something that confirmed he would take you back by force.

Blood dripped down your leg and fingertips, seeping into your clothes, staining the floor.

“I don’t want to die,” you confess, your voice small and scared. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I promise you won’t be alone; you won’t die on my watch… but you’re hurt,” Shouto reasoned, his body instinctually moving closer to you. You pressed against the back of the wall, the aggression in your body long having died out. “We can heal you, and if you don’t feel safe you’re welcome to leave—” his eyes hold yours, and he swears the world stills at this moment, he can hear nothing but your hammering heart and his own, “I promise you.”

You would later claim that you gave in because you were injured and exhausted, but your hand reached out with a tremble and took his steady one. It was weird, feeling his hand in yours, so calloused and worn. Even if all you felt were his fingers, this was the first time in forever since you had human contact. Despite everything going on, the own swinging egos in your mind that screamed at you to kill him or to kiss him more, sudden ease came over you. You didn’t trust him, you couldn’t — you weren’t that big of an idiot — but his dual colored eyes held yours steadily, warmly, safely and the only thing you could do was agree with him. Despite being brought up on one principle, one defining law, you broke it when it came down to this stranger before you.

No matter what happens, never trust anyone.

“I’m Todoroki Shouto, by the way,” Shouto finally introduced himself, his words breaking the silence that had fallen over the both of you while he guided you out of the house. “I’m apart of a surviving group called Yuuei, and we’ve been around for about a hundred years.”

“Y/l/n y/n,” you return with a grimace.

When was the last time you ever had to introduce yourself before? You had no memories of the last time you had to tell someone your name. His face lifted into a gentle smile, one that you couldn’t see as anything but being polite before he turned and began walking. His strides were long but quick, far outpacing you despite the obvious worry to your bleeding wounds.

You had been attacked earlier by some dying taoreta, and even with its dying breath, it was otherworldly powerful. The person who had nearly managed to slay the taoreta had been decapitated when you had accidentally stumbled on the screeching monster. Its fingers were blades made from its bones, and it had stabbed you before you could even fight back. The taoreta had destroyed the machete you had used as your main weapon, the splintering metal being what ended up killing the savage monster.

A ragged breath escaped you in the realization that you had survived that.

There was no stopping the onslaught of tears and sobs that ripped through your throat while Shouto pulled you after him. The stabbing blistering pain in your side and arm was throbbing while you tried to keep up. You had survived, the pain an undeniable testament to that, the bat dragging against the floor a reminder that you weren’t done just yet. Shouto’s eyes grazed over you, and you were grateful he didn’t say anything while you continued to cry, emotions, and relief washing over you.

Shouto’s face remained neutral if a little bit uncomfortable while he dragged you back to the car, his voice low and quiet while he informed the rest of his group that he wasn’t coming back alone.

Still, it was to no surprise that the moment Shouto stopped in front of the car four of the five others were on edge, looking down at his crying companion.

Midoriya, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Iida stood on the trunk of the car, their weapons were drawn towards you; hesitation and concern heavy in their eyes. Bakugou, who was driving the car, couldn’t even be bothered to look at you — after all, he had already okayed you. Well, Shouto thought he had okayed you, he wasn’t exactly clear on things like that. Besides, it wasn’t as if they came across many survivors to okay in the first place.

“Who is this?” Iida asked first, his eyes unwavering while you rubbed streaks of blood onto your face. “Is she dangerous?”

“I wouldn’t have brought her back if she was,” Shouto lifted an eyebrow, unamused with the stiffness in all their postures. “We disagreed earlier, but she thought I was a taoreta at first glance, it’s all good now.”

“And she’s okay now? She’s bleeding like a fuckton,” Kaminari squeaked, his fingers thrusting out to your blood-soaked clothes.

Honestly, it surprised Shouto just how weird his group of friends were. They were all unbelievably strong, each possessing the ability to have already successfully killed one taoreta, yet they were cowering in fear over you.

“Does she come from a group? Is she being followed?” Kirishima cautiously asked, his eyes leaving your body to scour the surrounding buildings. “Is she sick?”

Shouto looked behind him, his eyes taking in your paling and sullen form, you looked terrible.

Pressing his hand to your forehead, he felt your temperature with both his left and right side.

“No fever, but she’s bleeding obviously. I’m not sure if she obtained any injuries from fighting Bakugou or me,” Shouto explained clearly, only being able to answer one of those questions for you. “I can’t say if there’s a group around — or if she’s with one, but she said she’s been alone for a year.” His calculating gaze met the stubborn stares of his friends who could only stare at you, and a rush of annoyance flooded him while he ran a hand through his hair. “We don’t have time to argue though, the suns setting and we need to get back to base.”

“Put this on her,” Midoriya was the first to pull back, something that did not come as a surprise to Shouto, and he threw a bandana he typically wore around his wrist at Shouto. “If she’s not being followed, at the very least we can prevent her from relaying how she got to base.”

Shouto nodded, moving quickly to tie the green fabric around your eyes and piling you onto the trunk. Midoriya moved into the car with your new addition and sat next to Bakugou who floored the pedal and took off into the mountain.

UA truly was a blessing of a fort, not only was is incredibly huge, but it had natural barriers to act in their favor. And Shouto relaxed on the bed of the truck, his head pressing against the cold plastic, a hand resting on the items he had recovered for the day, and the other one still holding onto yours.

He tried to ignore the way they continued to stare at you in distrust despite having all your weapons inside the car so that he could sleep, but eventually, he gave up. His eyes continuing to glare back at his friends until they dropped their gaze on you. He knew you weren’t a threat, and like hell he was going to let them treat you like one.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

When the bandana-blindfold came off your eyes, your hand in Shouto’s began to sweat profusely. Your wounds had stopped bleeding thanks to the green-haired boy’s ministrations, but you definitely felt lethargic from the loss of blood.

Blinking rapidly, you looked around, freezing when you saw that the group of six men had expanded to much larger numbers of only men. Breeding cult, your mind hissed and you felt your hands twitch, a nervous thought to grab the weapons you no longer had.

“You’re scaring her!” a voice yelled, and your head snapped towards a voice you couldn’t see. “Who wants to wake up to a sea of scraggly, ugly men?”

Your jaw slacked when you saw a pink-skinned woman shove her way through the crowd to stand before you. No way in hell was she not a taoreta!

“Hi! My name is Ashido Mina, and I know what you’re thinking,” she spoke, her arms crossing against her chest while a prideful smirk spread across her face. “How is she so hot?”

Maybe if it had been a day where you weren’t half dead, lacking a needed amount of blood, and much more in control of your emotions, you wouldn’t have burst out in laughter. Your dirty fingers pressed onto your mouth while you tried to play off your peals of laughter to no success.

“Oh, I like this one already,” Mina grinned, her hands pressing onto the edge of the truck to look at you closer. “However, my skin is pink because of a dying accident gone wrong when I was a child. It was as permanent as permanent can get so… please don’t think I’m a taoreta!”

You nodded your head, your body wincing with the stabbing pain, and Shouto was quick to notice that you were still in pain.

“Mina, can we walk and talk?” Shouto asked, his hand pressing to your spine in order to get you to start moving, even without permission to do so. “Y/l/n has three wounds that need to be tended to; she already lost a lot of blood. You can do your welcoming thing and interrogation while she gets patched up by Shuzenji.”

Mina pouted; a sound of discontent with the arising situation, but she nodded. Shouto’s lips pressed into a thin-lipped smile, and with Mina’s help, they guided you off the car and onwards towards the infirmary.

“I’m not going to be killed, am I?” you ask, knowing it was far too late for your cold feet to be kicking in. “I never thought I’d be killed by humans.”

“God, no! Shuzenji is the best medic in the world, hands down. She’s gonna patch ya up, and I’ll talk with you while she does that, and then we’ll find out our best course of action afterward!” Mina exclaimed, her hand repositioning your weak arm around her shoulder. “I swear it won’t be that hard!”

True to her word, you were not killed.

In fact, the only scary thing you were met with was an angry, just woken up from her slumber, elder woman. After she had yelled at the crowd of men who had followed after you to leave you alone given that you were her patient, she had taken you inside with Mina. But you had panicked when she tried to get Shouto to step away, your hand which had not separated from his since the moment you had left the house unwilling to let go of him. So, he was permitted to stay.

You sat on an old infirmary bed, your pinky still touching Shouto’s while Shuzenji — nicknamed Recovery Girl by the surviving group — tended to your wounds. You answered a whole lot of questions from Mina while trying not to let your pain bleed into your voice.

You told them your birthday, your age, the last time you were sick, how long you’ve been alone (you couldn’t say why you were alone), and how you got those injuries of yours.

They had been impressed with your confession that it was from killing a taoreta, even a critically injured one was monstrously powerful after all, and Shouto would argue the ones on the brink of death were stronger than when fully healed. Mina, however, was a great conversationalist and did exceptionally well at making you feel comfortable despite everything.

They took your height, weight, blood type, and hell, Recovery Girl even tested your blood for infections you might have not known you had. She was a medical genius — a true benefit to being in this base. Despite her previous anger, she ended up being a very sweet woman, caring and charming while she fixed you up — cleaning and bandaging your wounds before leaving by giving you a homemade sweet and an orange to eat.

“Alrighty, y/n-chan,” Mina chirped, her hands pulling out a clipboard which seemed to come out from nowhere while she scribbled things down with a series of successive nods. “You have checked out perfectly in our first-day system, of course for you to be implemented in our system — should you want to do that — there will be voting on Thursday! Well, tomorrow really! In the meantime for tonight we would have to find you somewhere to sleep…” her voice trailed off while she contemplated your options. You continued to stare up at her with unknowing confused eyes, trying your best to keep the storming anxiety in your stomach at bay. “We have a few rooms that are open, but… no offense we can’t trust you yet, so we’ll have to put you somewhere with someone. I can ask Tsuyu?”

“She can stay with me,” Shouto spoke, his face expressionless, but his eyes soft. “I have one of the biggest rooms; it’s not that big a deal.”

Your anxiety lessened while you looked over at Shouto, unable to keep yourself from staring at him. Mina had no objections to this, a grateful smile falling over her features while she nodded, “Okay! I’ll send up a clean change of clothes if you need any? I have quite a lot.”

“That would be appreciated, thank you.”

“If she showers, you won’t be able to tonight. Mei destroyed a pipe by accident while trying to create a useable water source — it worked for two hours before breaking, so I think Yuuei will have constant running water by Momo’s birthday!” Mina chirped, her hands pressing the clipboard to her stomach. “But you’re good to go! Please still be mindful of any diseases though, just because you were cleared of the basic ones doesn’t mean you’re clean.”

You nodded watching as she too left you alone with Shouto.

“My room is on the fourteenth floor, do you think you can handle walking up that many flights of stairs?” Shouto asked, his hand steadying you while you slid onto your feet.

Despite everything, you were already feeling better. Your head while feeling a bit light was nothing compared to the groggy headache you had once had.

“I might need some help, but I think… I think, for now, I should be okay,” you inform Shouto, and he nods in understanding.

So the two of you in a weird silence, eventually made your way up to his floor, your body shaking by the time you walked onto the floor, but your hand never leaving his. He showed you the room the two of you would be in, and true to his word, it was large. There were two tatami mats, one by a window, and the other by the door. Random items littered the walls and the floors, most of which were toys and things to pass time with, but it was so unnaturally domestic to you, you didn’t know how to react. It was now that he let go of your hand altogether (an action that made you realize just how touch-deprived you’d been), leaving you to take in the state of his room while he walked around.

“You… you don’t have to give up your shower for me,” you spoke while watching Shouto rummage through his things, procuring a dry and clean towel for you. “I haven’t showered in some time, and I don’t want to make you be in your dirt for longer than needed.”

Shouto looked at you, his head tilting slightly before he shook his head. He walked over to you with his shower things, handing over the shampoo, conditioner, and soap. “You need to clean up because you have wounds, I’m fine. Besides… you stink more than me anyway.”

The truth to his words made your cheeks burn, but there was no judgment in his eyes while he leaned against the wall. You stood there by him unable to think of anything to say until Mina’s fist knocked against the opened door.

“Here are your clothes! Some PJs and extra clothes! I didn’t know if you had any extra clean clothes or your size but with your measurements, I took a wild guess. I hope they fit! I took the liberty of bringing you what I could spare!”

“There are way more clothes than that,” Shouto commented, his eyes judging the pink-skinned girl.

“Sorry that I’m assigned to clothes and have to follow code!” Mina huffed, her cheeks brightening with embarrassment before she stuck out her tongue and ran away leaving both of you alone once again. With the clean set of clothes and the ability to finally fo what you must, you asked where the shower was, and Shouto brought you to where the shower was located on the floor.

You hated to admit it, but you were sincerely grateful he let you shower. Your fingers worked out the many day’s old dirt from your hair, the soap sudding against your skin while you scrubbed weeks old layers from your skin until it throbbed in its rawness. You left the shower with a wince from your now healing wounds, but feeling a sense of freshness you hadn’t known in a while.

The PJs you were given were just a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, something you were grateful for, especially as the material was soft and warm against your cold skin. When you pushed into the room, you noticed that Shouto was sitting on the mat nearest to the door — leaving you with the one by the window.

A small lamp was by Shouto, and you couldn’t tell what he was writing while you piled onto your tatami, your fingers immediately grabbing the blankets that sat at the end of the mat before pulling it over your body. You stared at Shouto in silence, unable to simply fall asleep, your thoughts much too fascinated with him. Why had he done this all? You had attacked him and his friend; yet here he was, doing much more than what you could have ever asked from him.

“Will I fit in?” you ask quietly, your eyes concentrating up onto the ceiling. “Will I be voted out?”

There was a prolonged silence, a bit too long for your own liking while serious doubts threaded into your pool of anxiety.

“You’ll fit in,” Shouto spoke, his words clear and confident. “I promised you’d be okay, didn’t I?”

Your head nods, although you are unsure whether or not he saw you doing so.

“So it’s always perfect in here? There isn’t… there isn’t any dangerous taoreta lurking around, is there?”

“No,” Shouto softly says, and you turn your head, your wet hair pressing onto your cheek while watching as he puts a journal down. “To both questions. We’re human, drama and issues always arise, but things always end up okay. UA is also on a mountain surrounded by woods, most taoreta don’t bother making their way up here, especially since we have traps up. But dangerous ones tend to appear during rainy days — especially during winter.”

“Why’s that?” you ask in a small, small voice. It was fall right now after all.

Shouto met your gaze, his eyes swimming with emotions you couldn’t read, but thoughts that screamed that he was unsure whether he should tell you. Was there a reason to make you worry right now?

“During the winter we don’t have any protection. We have Gladiolus flowers planted all around the mountain just to keep taoreta away, and while they die during the fall, they’re still not decayed entirely so… they’re still useful. We can only use Gladiolus oil on the barrier of UA during the winter, meaning that taoreta can climb the hill and find us if they’re lucky enough. But when it rains, the oils washed off, and with the Gladiolus all dead, we’re exposed.” he explains to you in earnest and you nod numbly, your heart already hammering away.

You wished you had known that months ago…

“You okay?”

The tears in your eyes refused to stop falling down your face while horror consumed your bones. One year alone, countless nights spent in fear that someone would discover you while you were asleep, and hatred for the world burned in every cell of your body pouring over as bitter, useless tears while you gasped for air.

“W-Will you… can you hold my hand?” you gasped, your body burning in your embarrassment and fear. “I can’t stop thinking that I’m… am I safe?”

You couldn’t see anything, the tears in your eyes blinding you completely.

It had been such a hard, difficult, death-defying day and you were finally processing it all.

A hand held onto yours mid muffled sob, and comfort washed over you slightly but not enough.

You would fall asleep shortly afterward, your body rattled with your hiccuping sobs, and your face puffy and swollen from your tears. Shouto could only stare at your slumbering form, the tension, and anxiety heavy on your face despite passing on to the land of dreams. With a soft ache in his heart for you, he turned off the light, his hand still in yours, his tatami mat pressed next to yours.

And as sleep consumed him too, his journal which was the most unique entry he’s written since his adolescence rang clearly in his head:

September 20, 2XX1

It’s been eight years since everyone died, and another day spent working. Today was different, something new happened today. I found a survivor who tried to kill me, her name is y/l/n y/n. I don’t know much about her, but she’s different. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I hope she’ll be happy.

Signed, Todoroki Shouto

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It was Momo’s birthday today.

It was also the fourth day since you had entered the base, and with your entrance, things had become different around UA. During the first morning, people had hung on your every word, blatantly fascinated with you even if they were a bit apprehensive. The council also allowed you to stay, which had left you an emotional mess.

With you being new and injured, it was proclaimed that you could have a week to rest and adjust to the society found within the barriers of the old school. You were to be placed with the janitors the moment your allowed rest was over. You were given clothes, plates and utensils, and bathroom items, all of which you took with a watery smile.

As for your living situation, you were to stay with Shouto until he thought it was best that you left. It wasn’t something you were against at all — right now he was the only person you sincerely trusted and got along with. Shouto also did not mind, in fact he rather enjoyed having someone else fill the emptiness of his room.

Overall, it was going well, but the most important thing was happening today.

You would be put into a group of Shouto’s closest and best friends.

He had briefly explained to you who they all were because you had asked the night before, your stomach twisting in thought that maybe they wouldn’t like you.

But with Momo turning twenty, Shouto immediately warned you the type of party it was going to be. With the mass majority of their friends being seekers and therefore getting to claim first dibs on items, alcohol and weed were going to be used.

So there you stood three hours into a pretty fun party, your nose twitching at the nasty but sweet smell of marijuana and the bittersweet smell of alcohol on all of their breaths. You stood by the group of girls watching as Momo bashfully chugged a bottle of wine with the dignity of an extremely classy person and not the trashiness that was actually true of this all.

Your hand waved in front of you, once again denying the joint that was being passed around and the bottle of liquor trying to be handed to you. Recovery Girl had appeared before you earlier today while you were exploring the campus only to warn you what would happen should you participate in these actions while healing still. To say the least you wouldn’t even tempt the idea.

“So how is Mr. Todoroki?” Mina asked, her arm slumping over your shoulder while she chugged her bottle of who knows what. “Didya know he was the only one no one could ever get to date!?”

Your brows furrowed while you continued to try to find Shouto yourself. He had sort of left you alone and your anxiety always bayed with him in sight.

“We all dated around the circle of friends,” a girl with the palest skin you’ve ever seen before — Hagakure — explained. “The only one none of us could crack was Todoroki-kun, which lemme tell you seemed much more possible than Bakugou!”

You recognized and was able to put a face to the name Bakugou, but that information didn’t really surprise you. In your old group, it wasn’t that much different. There wasn’t anything to help you meet anyone, and so dating was something you did with everyone in your age group. But Shouto seemed very sweet, a genuinely good person that had you unbelieving of him never having dated.

“He’s still never had his first kiss!” Uraraka, a girl with a permanent blush on her face even without liquor in her blood, slurred with a wink. “Most girls just make him so nervous.”

Never… he’s never had his first kiss?! You took his first kiss?!

“Fucking shit!” you exclaimed, your hands pressing to your cheeks while you shook your head, your heart hammering away while you stepped away from the group of girls whose attention was captured by a frog impersonation by Tsuyu.

Shame and guilt sat heavy in your stomach and you walked away, the memory of you first meeting with Shouto replaying over and over in your head. You wanted to go sleep now, your heart hammering in your cheeks in past embarrassment for your actions. It had just been so long since you had seen a friendly face, and you had gotten overexcited.

Shouto, who had been slowly sipping from his cup of sake, saw your retreating form and instantly downed the rest of his sweet liquor. He had been pleased you had gotten along with his group of friends, most especially the girls. Through the past four days he had tried to introduce you to them all so that this party wouldn’t overwhelm you, and seeing that you had managed to stay in a conversation with them without him being there seemed like a positive improvement to him.

That is until you turned on your heel and walked away from the group, your eyes glass, and your steps quick.

He followed you out of the gym which is where they had all been in, his hands shoving into his pockets while he waited for you to turn around. But it seemed that you were deep in thought because you didn’t even seem to detect his presence. So, he opened his mouth, his lips quirking upward in amusement.

“Are you going back to the room?”

“Shit!” you jumped, your eyes wide and nearly crazed while you turned towards him, but a wave of regret his your face and Shouto knew you overexerted your injury. “Sorry, Shouto, I didn’t see… I didn’t hear you there.”

“Are you going back to the room?” he asked again, his head tilting in curiosity.

You nodded your head, your smile soft, “I was really tired, and I didn’t want to drag you away from your friend’s party. Don’t worry about me, you can stay, I’ll be fine!”

Shouto shook his head, moving so that he was standing right next to you, “It’s getting late and I’m seeking tomorrow. I have to rest, can’t do my job correctly while fighting a hangover.”

“It would really suck to know that you died on the job, I can’t imagine what I would do with all that space you would leave for me,” you tease, your smile small while he rolls his eyes.

“We’ve known each other four days and you’re already trying to kill me off? That’s a bit cruel, isn’t it?” Shouto asks, his hand sticking out for you to hold on to should you want to, and you do without question. It was a habit the both of you had quickly formed within four days, but it wasn’t going to die anytime soon, not with the night terrors you had at least.

“It’s the perks of being my friend,” you insist, your head nodding in finality, and Shouto begins to walk. You follow him swiftly and surely, but the same thoughts that plagued your mind began to resurface in your temporary silence. “Was I your first kiss?”

Shouto looked down at you, his eyes unable to be read by you, but the slight perk in his mouth let you know that he was amused and not offended.

“Why do you want to know?”

You sigh, your thoughts falling onto the giggling group of girls before.

“Well, your friends said you were the only one who never…”

“Yes?”

“Never took their advances, and they all said they haven’t kissed you before!��

Shouto opens the door to the building, letting you in. “You were my first kiss.”

You shudder, the horror of a story that would be with him for the rest of his life. An injured lunatic laying one on him without a second thought.

“Why was I your first kiss?” you ask, unsure as to why you were so curious about needing this information from Shouto.

“Because I never dated anyone before,” Shouto simply stated, his hands holding yours gently while you climbed the stairs that still winded you by the tenth flight.

“But why?” you find yourself pestering for more, your thoughts unable to figure out why he wouldn’t. There was no denying that he was incredibly handsome, stupidly so — even you had to admit that from the first glance you had of him. The girls also saw that — it was very obvious, so what was missing?

He was silent for some time, and it was something that you had already grown used to. His pauses happened when he didn’t have a clear thought, and while it didn’t happen often, it was enough for you to have already picked up on.

“During my school years I was more focused on other things,” Shouto confessed, pausing on a stair to allow you to gain your breath. “Something happened with my family and it took a lot of my time and energy away.”

While you knew that his family wasn’t in the picture anymore, you had no idea what had happened to them. You contemplated asking about it or not, your teeth tearing into your bottom lip while he stared down at you. The question was evident on your face though, most definitely screaming on top of your lungs despite you not uttering a single word.

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet, sorry,” Shouto confessed, and you nodded your head, you understood the feeling.

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you about my story too, one day we’ll both be ready, right?” you asked, your feet already making its way up the staircase even before he did.

Shouto smiled just the tiniest bit broken, and he nodded his head, continuing up the stairs after you with a sense of relief rushing through him

“Of course.”

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“Oh my god, it’s freezing.”

“I told you it was going to be cold, its November!”

You pressed the winter coat to your body even tighter, somehow you wanted the threads to become even closer than a second skin.

It had been two months since you had managed to find yourself in the same area as Todoroki Shouto, and so far, not a single day went by where you regretted it. Hell, even the wounds on your body had become purpling scars and eventually disappeared altogether. In two months the two of you had become quick and strikingly close friends, the both of you naturally growing closer due to sharing and living in the same quarters.

All in all the relationship sprouted between the two of you was genuine and different from other relationships in the base.

While most of each other’s past was still relatively unknown, both of your abilities to open up about what had happened in the past faulty and fell flat more often than not. It was honestly weird just how unable you both were able to talk about your past: the mile-long stare in your eyes, the tears, the anxiety-ridden dreams. Shouto had no idea that he still screamed for his family at night before you moved in, and you had no doubt that you would wake up shrieking.

Of course, these terrors had subsided by a landslide the second you both decided to try something new out: holding hands at night had become sleeping side by side. It was definitely a weird new inclusion by both of your standards. Most mornings you woke up utterly tangled in each other’s limbs, the person who woke up first being the one in charge of detangling and denying that they had become that entangled. But hey, that’s sort of what happened when both he and you were desperately trying to deny the softly burning embers of a beginning relationship.

But how could you begin to forget that you had been integrated into the Yuuei community very quickly, and nicely at that? After Momo’s birthday, you managed to earn a spot in the girl group, most meals having them coming to find you and sit with you. That was something you appreciated especially on the days that Shouto wasn’t on base. Even the guys who had once been wary of you entering their car had accepted you wholeheartedly. Although you hated being a janitor, you had to admit it was the only job you were capable of handling at the time.

You weren’t handy with machines to be an engineer, the only first aid you knew wasn’t even good enough to land you as medical assistance, your education wasn’t anywhere near as thorough as the one implemented here, and your cooking skills were subpar. In all actuality, you longed to be a seeker, but the outdoors were still something you weren’t ready for.

Shouto and you had learned that old habits died hard, and well, until you were ready to be a team player and no longer thought about your survival and your survival only, you would remain in your janitor position.

But you found yourself climbing onto the rooftop floor with Shouto for one reason and one reason only.

Despite his lavish education growing up, he had stupidly asked you what the hell a constellation was.

While you hadn’t known that there was a difference between a meteoroid and an asteroid, you were pleasantly surprised and leagues excited at finally being an expert on something that he wasn’t. Stars and constellations had been your only guides and stories for quite a while after all.

But with Shouto’s judgmental eyes on you, and the shifting of your weight to keep warm, you tilted your head back to look up at the painted night sky.

“Not all of us are abnormally super-weirdo hot all the time,” you accused, the fur lining of the jacket pressing onto your cold lips. The jacket had been a gift from Shouto, a clothing item that had somehow survived being eaten by moths that he had presented to you on your first month anniversary of being on UA.

“That just sounds like you’re jealous,” Shouto countered, his body moving to stand next to yours. He was in a light sweater and regular clothes, you had no idea how he wasn’t cold at this point. But you chose to ignore it, your lips pouting while the both of you sank to the ground, the soft blanket beneath you doing little to cushion your head against the concrete roof. “So… which constellations are in the sky right now?”

“Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Cepheus, Cetus, Hydrus, Phoenix, Pisces, Sculptor, and Tucana,” you listed without a hitch, the names meaning nothing to Shouto but didn’t stop the impressed look on his face.

“Do they had stories behind them?” he asked, his warm breath misting in the air while you adjusted closer to his left side, your frozen hand held tightly by his warm one. He shifted his gaze back down to you, his eyes focused on your wandering ones that drank in the beautiful night sky.

“Only the best stories,” you grinned, your attention shifting over to Shouto while a glint sparked in your eye. “They’re a bit western and a lot of years old if you want to hear them?”

Shouto nodded his head. There wasn’t anything more than he would like to do except be by your side and just listen to you talk and talk, especially if that meant you would forget what you were saying or your instructional material would become a sidetracked rant that he would listen to with clear fascination and teasing intrigue.

“Okay, I guess I’ll start with Andromeda!” you nodded your head, your finger thrusting towards the masses of stars that Shouto had no ability to piece together to become the young woman who was sacrificed to the Cetus.

Still, he pretended he could see the constellation because you wouldn’t begin any tale without making sure he could point them out. But there was no denying that he was baffled and in love with every part of your stories. It really wasn’t the fact that the stories were interesting to him, as a matter of fact, Shouto was rather bored with the dramatic Greecian tales for the constellations in the sky, but it was you that made it interesting.

Even with your hand in his, your arms threw around animatedly as part of your dramatic reenactment of these tales and myths. Your passions being felt without mistake while you taught Shouto about the night sky.

No matter how passionate you were about teaching Shouto about the constellations, the cold won out, in the end, sending the both of you back into the room before you could explain the story you knew about Tucana.

“Did you learn anything new tonight?” you asked, your body curled up into the blankets of your tatami, waiting for Shouto to finish his journal to come and provide you extra warmth.

“I guess I did,” Shouto confirmed, his head nodding while he continued to scribble down his thoughts. But there was something to his tone that you found suspicious, your eyebrows narrowing when you saw the slight crease in his cheeks from the smile on his face.

“Why you smiling like that for!” you whine, your cocooned legs thrashing in your childish tantrum. “Was there something on my face the entire time?”

“There was something on your face the entire time, but it wasn’t anything embarrassing,” Shouto promised, his hands gathering his journal, light, and pencil and putting them aside before coming to lay beside you, his body pressed behind yours, his warmth already sinking through your blankets.

“That’s what you said when I had a sticker on my forehead for an entire day,” you pout, your eyes already feeling heavy with his warmth pressed against you.

“You were cute,” he admitted, his voice that was heavy with exhaustion tickling the exposed skin of your neck. He closed his eyes, allowing for sleep to consume him while he uttered his last words of the day. “I don’t care for stars and such… but if you’re gonna do stuff like that… who knows, maybe I’ll grow to love them.”

His words sank a hot stone in your stomach, and the goosebumps and butterflies that raised against your entire body refused to subside until you finally managed to fall asleep yourself, one final thought passing through your swollen bitten lips. “You can’t just stuff like that and expect me to not have feelings...”

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March was the first month of spring, and while you had survived a full winter without a taoreta attack at UA there was no denying that you felt like you had gotten away easy. The uneasy feeling in your stomach was heightened today before Shouto had left for his typical job as a seeker. You had barely managed to wake up that morning to see him off, but the moment he had left, you were unable to stay asleep, a pit of worry growing cancerously in your stomach.

You spent the rest of your morning tidying up the room, cleaning and organizing the “chaos” of the room because there wasn’t anything better you could do until on your day off.

As a matter of fact, you went on to join Mina at her checkout position today. The pink-skinned girl had recently begun to wear a horned headband which really pulled together the taoreta vibe she already gave off, but she was nice to distract yourself with while a haunted feeling gloomed over you the entire day. She had talked through your fear, pinning your anxiety on your recently admitted to affections towards Shouto and noot wanting him to be injured while on his job. You had agreed it was most likely that but even as the day continued you couldn’t tear your gaze from the entrance.

But as Mina was cleaning off a weapon that had been used yesterday she froze.

You looked up at her, your eyes studying the way that her hand pressed into the radio that was placed in her ear, relaying a message you only wished you could hear.

“How far away?!” Mina yelled into the system, her body moving to grab another radio set. “How many were hurt?!”

Just like that, a nausea heavy anxiety rocketed through your body, your limbs trembling while Mina seemed to keep her own panic under control.

“Medics,” MIna yelled into the com system, her voice projecting all over the school grounds. “Come in medics, this is Mina. Report to the main gates immediately. We have an incoming group of four hurt seekers from a taoreta attack. I repeat we have an incoming group of four hurt seekers. Three are minimal, one is critical. Ready blood type O immediately.”

Your skin crawled at that information, Shouto was the only one with blood type O going out today.

He wasn’t the critically hurt one, you thought, watching as a crowd of medics rushed to the gate, no doubt readying to take the critical patient to Recovery Girl the moment the car crashed through campus. But as the car you knew as the same one that brought you here slammed to a stop by the entrance, nausea hit you when you saw that it was Kirishima and Iida who were driving.

Three slightly bleeding friends of yours were pulled from the truck and you felt the world go silent when none of them were Shouto. The screams and shouts of medical instructions went unheard by you when you saw Shouto’s bloody, torn up body being transported onto a gurney, a bloodline immediately hooked as they ran away.

You couldn’t hear anything or see anything but the sunken dip in Shouto’s cheeks.

Was he going to live?

You weren’t even aware of your own hyperventilation until Mina shoved you onto the floor, her golden-yellow eyes wide with worry and distress for you, but her words remained deaf on your ears, unable to pierce the stress ringing in your ears.

Was he going to leave you too?

Shouto’s eyelids felt heavier than lead when he finally woke up.

The bright white light of the hospital room almost blinding him while he groaned. What had happened?

A fuzzy memory of running into a taoreta with savage storm powers replayed in his head. He had almost sacrificed himself to save the group, the damn monster had the strength of Hercules and slashing wind that he cut Shouto up on numerous occasions. He had sworn he had gone under multiple times, but each time it felt like there was something stopping him, keeping him from leaving.

He wouldn’t have minded leaving, there wasn’t much here, to begin with. At least not after the demise of his entire family.

“So you’re finally away, Todoroki,” a gentle withered voice intercepted his thoughts, and Shouto turned his head with a pained grimace to see Recovery Girl checking his vitals. “I’m glad to see that you’re conscious of whats going on. You’ve woken up multiple times already but would seize before passing out.”

“Am I... am I alive?” Shouto asked, his tongue feeling like sandpaper in his mouth.

A folder of papers crashed against his already throbbing head, and Shouto cursed while Recovery Girl fumed. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m kicking the bucket any time soon!”

Despite the pain, Shouto smiled softly, his head nodding in understanding.

“Besides, if you died I would have personally prayed for your soul because it looked like y/n-chan would have appeared on death’s door herself to bring you back,” she mused, her gloved finger pointing at your passed out figure on the other side of the bed.

Shouto’s eyes widened at the sight of you, something warm curling in his stomach seeing you there. But he frowned at the way your face was exhausted and thinner from the last time he had seen you.

“How long was I—?”

“A bit longer than two weeks.”

Holy shit that was a long time.

“We almost lost you a few times, but for some reason you always did better when she was holding your hand… it’s weird, but it worked — saved your life even. You owe that girl a big thank you, she’s done a lot.”

Shouto nodded numbly, his mind moving faster than he cared for while Recovery Girl finished her tendings to him before eventually leaving him alone. He had done better when you held his hand…

He looked down at his wrapped arms, now beyond grateful that they had been stockpiled on medical supplies because had they not they would have most likely decided saving him was a waste of resources. His hand moved to rest on your propped elbow, but the moment he touched your skin, your head popped up.

Shouto stared at you, and you stared back.

Bloodshot exhausted eyes meeting sullen ones, and Shouto barely had time to smile before tears sprung into your eyes.

“You almost died,” came a bitter hello, and it shocked Shouto. He hadn’t expected such a cold greeting from you. “Y-You promised you wouldn’t get hurt on these expeditions.”

You knew promises like that one were childish — it was a promise that couldn’t be kept in this society, but it was one he had still made to me.

“I promised I wouldn’t die,” Shouto countered, his hands pulling to rest on his lap, knowing that having contact with you was probably what wasn’t needed at the moment. “I didn’t, by the way.”

“You died three times while they were saving you!” you spat, angry heavy tears rolling down your cheeks. “You died and all I could do was watch! You l-lied!”

Shouto wasn’t sure how to react, on one hand he wanted to snap back at you, his own frustrations at you just not being happy to see him awake and functional made him upset because he was beyond relieved to see you here, but on the other hand, he wondered why you were so shaken at this “lie.”

“Why does it matter if I lied?” Shouto whispered, his attempt to keep his voice from showing any signs of anger passing. “It wasn’t something I did out of self-sacrifice, but because it’s what the group needed.”

You remained silent, your nostrils flaring with your uncovered emotions and thoughts, but Shouto wanted to know your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings. Despite the lengths the both of you had made in understanding each other, there was still so much hidden from both of your pasts, the thought of hurting so much more when being honest about them prohibiting the both of you from sharing.

“Y/n… come one, speak to me…”

“My parents said the exact same thing before they died,” you spoke with emotions tight in your throat. Your tongue passed your lips in an anxious matter, and you shook your head. “My group was murdered by taoreta a year before you met me. I had been sick at the time… the flu had gotten to me, so I was always left alone at our base while they all went out hunting. It was my family and twenty others… I had… I had a bad feeling the morning they died, but no one believed me because I was sick. I made them promise they’d come back alive, and they did! But while they always returned a bit after dusk, no one ever showed up.” Shouto’s stomach curled, already guessing the rest of your story, but there was no need to guess, you were finishing the tale that still haunted your life. “The next morning I was essentially fine, so I packed up my things and went to search for them. My group always left a rock trail to get back… I was going to follow the trail to find them. And I did find them… but… they were all dead. I saw my mom's torso here, my dad's head there. I couldn’t even recognize anyone's bodies, but the smell… I still smell it at night sometimes… rotting flesh and the whimpers of one of my friends who was still dying when I got there!”

The tears on your cheeks rolled down unashamedly, but your body shook with emotions, your breathing shallow and sparse, most definitely not intaking the needed amount of oxygen you needed. But with this insight, so many things made sense to Shouto. Weird personality traits of yours for the first time having reason for their rhyme.

“I don’t want to be told you’ll be okay and find you dead one day… you were dead and I thought… it felt like I was back there again! I haven’t been there since January and… god, Shouto, I can’t have you dying like that!”

His heart hurt for you, and his eyes found yours again.

“I lost my family eight years ago,” Shouto confessed, his hand stretching out for you to take, and he relaxed when you accepted his offer. “My father and oldest brother had found a group of survivors who were harboring a taoreta who was only twenty-four at the time. We didn’t know they were a taoreta, and we didn’t know that they were turning twenty-five the next day. My family brought them back to base and took them into our room because we had the largest one. I was with… I was with Midoriya, Bakugou, and Kirishima that day, the four of us had decided that we were going to camp out on the track… I didn’t get to even say goodbye to anyone. The next morning there was an explosion in the cafeteria and my family along with the surviving group and taoreta had been killed. It was… horrible… and even though it was years ago, I still feel like it was yesterday. It could have been me there with them — and I felt… I felt like for the longest time that I should have died with them…”

“Shouto,” you whispered, your tears no longer angry but so sad for the man you had fallen for. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Shouto smiled painfully, his shoulders shrugging while he exhaled, tears trailing down his face while a weird sense of relief washed over him. “It’s okay. It’s hard and all, but it’s comforting to know that I wasn’t the only one fucked over by a taoreta.”

Your eyes softened and a snort left your nose while you shook your head, “I think we’ve all been fucked over by them, wouldn’t you agree?”

There was an agreeing noise that passed Shouto’s lips that died as quickly as it had started when your lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, not quite a kiss, but close enough to a kiss that had skyrocketed his heart rate.

“I’m glad you’re still alive though, Shouto,” you whisper, pulling away from him, your lips forever imprinted onto his skin. “I don’t think I would be able to live in that big old room all by myself.”

Shouto cleared his throat, his eyes glinting everso mischievously, “I definitely would had stuck around to haunt you.”

He wouldn’t confess to it at this moment, but his heart definitely skipped a beat at the sight of your glowing smile, and the laugh that escaped your lips.

“I’m sure you would’ve.”

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It was raining.

The chaos of the outside world had once again found its way into Yuuei’s safezone, and everything was going to shit. You had woken up to the sound of rain, your body curled onto Shouto’s and your mind not thinking much of the pittering rain that fell from the sky. You were content in his warm embrace, just grateful to have more time with the sleeping man. It had taken him five months to fully recover from his attack, and he had just recently resumed his job as a seeker two months ago.

Right now it was December, it had been past a full year since your arrival here, and you definitely were content here.

Your relationship with Shouto has definitely become… muddied in the past few months. Kisses had been exchanged on multiple occasions, the both of you practically acting like a couple despite not having coined your relationship. Despite the both of you coming clean with your past, there was still hesitation to make things official, with both of you not wanting to hear that either one of you had died (you had become a seeker during his time of recovery just so you could get him more shower times, plus you missed scavenging in the outdoors). Secret kisses were exchanged between you like blackmarket deals, but still the hesitant riding heavy in both your bones prevented anything from happening.

But that was okay for now, as long as you were the only one Todoroki Shouto was kissing, you were okay with that. Burying your nose into his chest, you allowed for sleep to consume you into its clutches. Today was both your days off after all.

Seconds before sleep could reclaim you, a long three part bell was heard that instantly had both you and Shouto rocketing upward. A long bell was a part of the warning system, and each part meant something.

One long ring was a storm.

Two long rings was a group of survivors.

Three long rings was a taoreta.

Both you and Shouto scurried to your feet, throwing on the first set of clothes you could find, and desperately putting on your shoes while your heart hammered. You hadn’t fought a taoreta since the year before, and with the explosion outside you could only begin to imagine what this was going to mean for you all.

“Y/n!” Shouto called for you while you pulled on your jacket. You looked at him, your hands mid-pulling your hair out of your face. “Come back alive.”

You didn’t say anything, his clothes and shoes already on; ready to go out and fight. But in a kiss akin to that of your first one, he pressed his lips against yours in a heated, fervor passion. An action that spoke of desperation between two lovers who longed to see the next day, and you heard it loud and clear.

Survive.

It was an order, it was a promise.

He left before you, and you soon followed after. The weight of the future falling heavily on your shoulders, but a personal fury to survive pushing you through.

It was a long and a hard battle.

The taoreta had blade wings and mowed down everything in its path. Bodies littered the floor around you, your body in pain and sore while the taoreta lay twitching on the roof of one of the pillars of the campus building. In what was considered to be a lucky shot, you had managed to pierce a major artery of the taoreta with a gun you had taken from a fallen member and he was now bleeding out.

There were multiple cuts all over your body, the slices from the knives doing nothing but harm to your body while you collapsed on the roof, your breathing heavy and your body exhausted underneath the pittering rain. You overlooked the tower, down at the people below and gave a thumbs up, signaling he was dead.

A silent scream of victory came from the surviving members of Yuuei, no one able to actual muster a sound of victory because defeat still stung with every bleeding cut on their bodies. But this wasn’t your job anymore, a successive three short rings alerted the medics that it was their turn to work, and you hobbled down from the roof back to your room.

Your hair was plastered to your face, bloodied water dripping after you while you returned to the room, and you stood at the door unable to walk in until you saw Shouto.

It felt like you were standing there forever, your eyes focusing on the stairway in hopes of seeing the red and white haired boy emerge from a lower floor to you. And finally, finally he appeared.

There was a cut on his face, a bandaid on his chest, and you realized that he had been treated before coming up. He stared at you from the distance, both your bodies frozen with adrenaline induced joy.

But it was over just as fast, Shouto ran towards you, and there was nothing for you to do except leap into his arms, and press your lips against his. Shouto’s words of gratitude for seeing you alive were stolen from his tongue for you had reached upward in this desperate, frantic glee and kissed him firmly on the lips. His tongue curled and moved against yours, his hands moving frantically against your back in this desperate, longing kiss that exploded fire onto his cheeks and loins. But unlike the first kiss ever exchanged between the two of you he was able to move. He was able to feel the wet streaks from your cheeks pressed onto his, focusing on the heavy frantic breathing that passed through your nose while he entered the room, the door slamming closed behind him.

His lips are passionate against yours, your jaw drops and your mind spins from the intensity he was returning into the kiss. Your gasping moans stir him on as his hands grasp your ass without fear, your body melting into his grasp while he continues to strive ahead, and your hips in their glee of both being alive and knowing what is happening ground against his crotch. Your breathing is uneven, your feelings and nerves overload as you put in the same amount of intensive passion into the kiss.

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, allowing for your tongue to invade into his mouth while your hands manage to pull his shirt from his body, throwing it who knows where.

A low mewl escapes your mouth when your fingers trail down his rippling muscles, the curves of his muscles and the scars on his body making you shake with anticipation. While you busied yourself with memorizing his body with your hands, his hands trail down your legs, softly trailing the underside of your thighs. The sensation of his hot fingers against the wet jeans sent shivers down your spine as your hips swivel against his, a desperate attempt to feel more from him. You hummed in increasing excitement when he cursed your name, the growing bulge in his pants making you sing to the heavens.

Tongues once more crash in the middle, neither one of you entirely dominating the other in this passionate affair. Moans escape your mouth as he lowers to the ground, pressing your back against the tatami. Your fingers fisted into his hair, his hips grinding down into your heated, desperate core. Synchronized groans are exchanged in this slowly maddening exchange, his body very receptive to the hair-pulling.

His hands trailed down onto the swell of your breasts, squeezing firmly around your soft and tender flesh, and you arch into his hands. His tongue furthers into your mouth in your brief distraction, and he trails his tongue everywhere in your mouth, letting nothing go untouched until you were unable to do anything but expel hot, passionate breaths with just the slightest bit of a whine. Your increasingly satisfied moans make him chuckle. You watch with heavy lids as he pulls away, his face deliriously close to your own as you pant.

From this distance, you can see the fire burning in his eyes. A sight that makes you shiver with growing need, but the thought disappears when his mouth attaches onto your neck. His canines sink deeply into your skin catching you entirely off guard in this desperate claim, but you rewarded his actions by screaming his name, the feeling of his hot tongue soothing the burning flesh too sweet and wanton. It’s a new sensation and one that you rather liked seeing that your hips buck up against his; your body craving more friction.

His canines continue tracing against your skin, biting and marking you more and more with the increased vocal praises pouring from your lips. You wanted more, you needed more.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp while Shouto hastily removes your wet clothes from your overheating body, the cold air hitting you, but goes ignored because he presses back down against you, his mouth recapturing yours, and your nipples pebbling with his chest against yours.

The two of you are lost in the kiss, your lips pressing and pulling against the other in a desperate act, your fingers burying crescents into his skin all while your clothes still continue to be stripped from both of your bodies until theres nothing between you but a flimsy set of underwear.

Your nostrils flare as you pull away, a need for air too much for you to continue your kissing endeavors, but as he now remains in just his boxers, your breathing nearly stops while you take in his form to the maximum.

You really were fucking lucky…

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he teases you, and he captures your lips with his own again.

You gasp sharply at the feeling of his heated toned body pressing against your cold yet flushed skin. Your hands sliding down his muscular back were intoxicated with the way his body felt, an overwhelming need to get more from him was undeniable.

“I don’t need a picture of something that I can have every day,” you shudder as his fingers graze the pool of heat in your panties.

“Oh really? Everyday?”

“You think I — oh shit — you think I can’t?!”

You watch as he chuckles against your skin, his fingers trailing over the curves of your breast and into the valley between them before rutting his cock against the place you needed him most right now. “So you just want me for my dick? Nothing else?” he asks you, his cock rubbing against your panties applying a dizzying pressure against your pooling heat.

“I want you, all of you,” you confess, unable to even kid around with the need between your legs being as strong as it was while your hips pathetically grind into his fingers. He chuckles as he pushes your thighs up, and pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, his finger teasing your building heat.

“Such decisive words from a girl who just wanted to kiss me with no relationship in mind,” he mutters sinking two fingers into your unsuspecting heat.

The helpless and needy scream that pours from your mouth interrupts your denial makes him laugh.

“Tell me, y/n,” he says as his fingers slowly pump within you.

Slowly.

Teasingly.

“Do you want my dick in you?”

Your harsh pants keep you from speaking as Shouto increases his speed. His fingers curling within your walls stretching you out in a thigh shaking way. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re vastly affected by his intruding fingers, your body violently trembling with his curled appendages, your mind unable to form sentences because god how was he doing that with his fingers?!

“Yes, fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, oh my god Shouto!” you shriek as your hips slam against his fingers with every crashing movement.

“How about dating me? You think you’ll finally let me be your boyfriend?” he muses as his teeth come to bite against your exposed nipples, relishing in the way your head nods pathetically, so desperate for him to do moore. The neverending noises of approval expelling from your mouth only grow when his tongue flicks your nipple. Your fingers digging into his shoulders in wild approval. “Are you going to try and find someone else?”

“No! I just want you, Shouto! P-Please fuck me!” you beg as you try squirming away from his fingers. Your fingers scratching their way down his back, leaving bleeding marks on him in attempt to get him to do more to you. You watch in growing glee and excitement as he slips off your underwear, and his cock spreads completely against your dripping cunt.

A satisfied and slightly horrified moan escapes your mouth at the sight of him carding his cock between your folds. His fingers remove from your sopping wet cunt as he licks you clean from his fingers. “Maybe I’ll have some dessert later,” he wickedly grins as he slowly fists himself. “Now lay back and legs out.”

He accentuates every word, and you feel yourself heeding his command. Your hands quickly gather your thighs in your hand, and you stretch backward as you watch him draw near your spread legs. The tip of his hard cock teasing your entrance.

“Fuck me already!” you whine as he continues to only coat his cock with your juices, uncaring of both of your throbbing sexes.

He looks up at you, a smirk on his face as he shrugs.

“Sure.”

A shriek crashes through your mouth as he pushes his cock completely into your awaiting cunt without mercy. His girth stretching you out in an unimaginable way. Stretching you out in ways you were not prepared for, your back arching off the mat in your silent scream. Your walls rippled as they attempted to relax and grow used to his size. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cry, absurdly unprepared for his cock in you as your body trembles as Shouto leans forward.

His own head is buried within your neck, his breathing trying to reign back in.

“Shit, princess,” Shouto cockily rasps, but his words feel powerless as he is obviously affected by the tightness of you around him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

You mewl as the painful throb in your pussy lulls and you writhe your hips against him, “Please do something, fuck me right. Please fuck me.”

Shouto smirks, small and knowing, and rightfully so as he adheres to your demand. His hips position to a better angle, his hand pressing against your thighs and you can only watch with your face buried into his neck he begins slamming into you. Your hips move in time with his.

Both of you desperate under your nearing orgasms and this heightened state of pleasure brought by the desperation of this fuck. You had both survived the attack, something that the both of you had been so scared of eventually happening given your records, but you had lived. You had lived and became insanely horny at the first sight of Shouto.

His hands gripped your hands while he pounded into you. His grip nearly cracks your hands as he slams his body faster against yours, stretching you out with every move, and by god does he know how to use his cock that dragged against your spongey puffy walls. His hands shift as they drag out under your ass, clenching your supple flesh as this difference stretches you out in unimaginable ways.

His hips crashing into yours is mind jolting, and your cries only fuel him on.

Your body feels as if it is turning into jelly as he shifts your two legs over his shoulders. His cock bottoming out into you making your back arch off the mattress as you wail out his name. Shouto’s heated fingers press against your throbbing clit. You suppress a wail as he rubs harsh and delicate figure-eights onto your puffy nerve. Your pussy is clamping down on his hammering cock, not at all slowing him down, and yet he still grunts and increases his speed and strength.

Your noises of pleasure silences as his cock hits the back of your walls, your legs thrashing around as he drilled into you the same way.

Over and over.

Again and again.

Harder and harder.

His cock smashing against your walls until he tilts his angle and crashes down hard against your g-spot.

“Shouto!!!” you scream as he continues pounding into your g-spot. His alias a prayer on your lips as he continues fucking your brains out.

You shoot up off the mattress, your screams muffled through a kiss as you wrap your arms around him. Even though your legs were on his shoulder, you held on. The angle allows Shouto to drive his cock against your g-spot over and over again. Your body bouncing with every single slam. His body is giving you exploding sensations, your tightness making Shouto moan and curse.

“I needa – fuuuuck, baby do that again – I needa come!” you squeak as your body rocks against his own.

“Come for me, princess.” Shouto sighs into your mouth. “Come around my cock.”

The built-up pleasure in your belly is profuse, it’s built up so fast, and your toes curl in electrifying pleasure. You can’t handle it anymore, the pleasure being too much.

Your orgasm slams through you, your vision nearly turning white as your jaw drops as your screams go silent. Shouto’s mouth continues to move against yours, kissing sloppily against your teeth as he chases his own orgasm. His teeth digging into your bottom lip as his jaw slacks.

His hips continue slamming into you. They’re brutal as they slam over and over again. He’s chanting your name as your stimulated cunt continues clenching around his length. His pace is making you grow numb in his arms, although your hips still continue to desperately roll against his. His breathing is heavy and tense. Panting as he struggles to keep himself composed.

“Come inside me…” You whine into his ear, desperate to feel his hot seed within you. “B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.

“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other. Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knock the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me! Please fill me up!”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time,” he snaps, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw into his back, marking him in multiple places with clean four bloody red lines.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, princess?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot throbbing cock. The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically under your fingernails, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.

“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that Imma fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips slamming inhumanly faster into you.

“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have noticed the clamping of your inner walls as he continues drilling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You sob against his mouth, your nails tearing into his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he only continues to fuck you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.

“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”

His cock stretches you out in a new way as he presses your back onto the mattress again. The protruding veins on his cock creating insane friction against your walls. Shouto fucks you mercilessly, his fingers clenching your ass as you come apart for him. Shouto curses loudly as he finally loses himself within you. His hips drilling forward one last time as a heavy load shoots into your throbbing cunt.

Shaky breathing fills the air as he pulls out of you.

You whine at the lack of him within you, and your body relaxes as he falls beside you. You whimper as you feel your combine cum seeping from your clenching pussy.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, his hand moving to find yours again, and you can’t say anything but nod in agreement.

“Holy shit is right,” you chuckle and his snort makes you warm inside.

“So… we’re dating now, right?” you ask softly, moving to look at Shouto’s closed eyes.

“We’re about five months late on that, but yes, yes we are.”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader

1K notes · View notes

minjoonalist · 4 years

Text

Buzzkill | Ksj. 18+

Pairing: Boss!Seokjin x Driver!Reader

Rating: Mature

Genre: Request, PWP

Word: 6k

Discription: In which your boss has a consistent streak of being the biggest wet blanket.

Warnings: soft dom!Jin, sub!reader, penetration, fingering, unprotected sex they have sex on a stolen car, cursing, explicit wording, slight degradation, Quickie

A/N: so this is request I received and decided to turn it into a mini fic for a cute little bean, I’m sorry took a second but I do hope you enjoy it sweetie! 😘

———

There was nothing more thrilling than the violent purr of the engine surrounding your senses, the harsh wind whipping through your hair, the exhilarating sound of power that brought you and your crew mates through the dark silent streets of an unknown neighborhood and especially the pride that came with knowing everyone would end up praising you for your extraordinary skills as a getaway driver. You’d only known them for about three weeks, but that was plenty of enough time to showcase your abilities and impress them. They would compliment you, lifting your ego for the complicated turns and cheering you on for the risky maneuvers that allowed all of you to get off scot free with more than five hundred thousand dollars...you loved it, every single part of it.

It was moments like this where Jimin snaps his hands to applaud your fearless energy, Hoseok, the personified can of sunshine boosts you for whipping the fast car in front of a massive truck as a means to shake the three police cars chasing you down the highway. The kid, known as Jungkook- widening his eyes in amazement and slight fear once that same truck misses all of you by a hair as you exited fast lane.

It was a thrill and one you found yourself living off of recently.

The adrenaline and rush of everything you had done, bringing life to the boring, mundane one you’d use to live before. How you were just some pretty accountant by day, kissing the asses of rich old men with too much privilege on their hands- but only to turn around and take care of it for them by night time...in other words you were robbing them blind and just the thought alone always had you grinning ear to ear, even while you turned the unharmed vehicle into the hidden garage that your crew mates owned. It was fun, yet rewarding every time and nothing anyone did could ever ruin that-

“That was dumb.”

“Excuse me?”You balk.

All too quickly, the rush of your misdeed had drained away from your body and suddenly the air had gone incredibly still. The three men currently residing in the back of the car, pauses just as perplexed as you were in the driver’s seat- your eyes glued to the platinum blonde male staring you down in the passenger.

Arms crossed, his pearly teeth nibbling on a silver lip ring- Jin, otherwise known as Kim Seokjin and your boss, meets you with an unimpressed gaze “You heard what I said, that was stupid and reckless.” He continues, voice devoid of any kindness as well as having irritation enter those black irises.

You shake your head, blinking a couple of times just to make sure you’re understanding him and maybe you weren’t in some dream. “I’m confused...what are you talking about?” your voice lifts slightly with outrage while you turned the key in the ignition to shut the car off.

Jin’s face only hardens “Don’t make me repeat myself, that bull crap stunt you pulled back there could’ve nearly killed us. We were lucky that truck driver only hesitated from hearing the police sirens just before that exit...like I said, dumb.” The tense outburst between all of you, was enough to throw the entire atmosphere and stun you all into silence.

Well all except Hoseok, as the optimistic member, he suddenly reaches forward to pat Jin on the shoulder from the back “Hey man, She was great back there- Lighten up.”

“Yeah Hyung, the important thing is that we’re all alive and we each have a hundred thousand dollars in our pockets without anyone catching on.” Jungkook decides to chime in as well, peering around for confirmation- which he does receive. “There's no telling what could have happened if she didn’t.”

You on the other hand didn’t reply to the hurtful insult of the soured male beside you and neither did Jimin, Too busy trying to cope with the foreign reaction of your driving skills and that you were being scolded for actually doing your Job. As you sat there listening to the both of them defend your honor, you’d hoped some of it might have gotten to the quiet grouch raining in on your thrill, but instead it only increased his anger. Which only caused Seokjin to turn his attention to the three men in the back.

He sends an expectant look to Hoseok “I’m sorry...do you and Jimin not have money in the back of this car to go count?” He presses harshly “Instead of worrying about the brat, I suggest you tend to your duties.” Seokjin snaps his fingers, causing the dark haired male to flinch and send you all a beaten look before backing down. Within the next few seconds Hoseok opens his back seat door, getting out grumpily and causing a chain for Jimin to follow him. They both walk around to the back of the car, both of them coming into your vision on the rearview mirror. You catch sight of Jimin, a short wink coming from him with two hits to the closed trunk signaling you to pop it open.

Immediately, you oblige.

Meanwhile Jin turns around to Jungkook, the poor kid’s Adam Apple bobbing up and down as your boss looks at him sternly. “Well?”

“Um, I-I should probably help them?” He says a bit unsure, his pitiful posture within the middle seat, making your soft spot for him ache.

His knees knocked together, rough hands rubbing nervously across his muscular thighs- which makes you wonder how he could possibly be so wrecked from one man and yet keep a calm composure when facing the lethal obstacles of obtaining glorious amounts of money. Nonetheless, you don't have much time to process before the kid is scurrying out of his seat, doing the same as his friends and opening the back seat’s door to let himself out-leaving the both of you inside with silence.

“...Well that was uncalled for.” You finally mumble after a few seconds go by.

From beside you, Seokjin Sighs tiredly- almost ruefully before completely ignoring you. The skip in your heart beat from the situation only serves to remind you of how much adrenaline you still had running through your system.

Just like that, Seokjin had immediately ruined the mood like always and if that weren't enough to have you fuming from the buzzkill, then what he said next did him no Justice. “Aw the brat can’t handle criticism all of a sudden?”

Your face turns sour “I can when that person isn’t being a dick.”

“It's never stopped you before.”He scoffs “ Pointing out a selfish move like that doesn’t make me the bad guy Kiddo, unfortunately for you, you have a hard time seeing that fault.”

Your anger spikes, watching as he rests his head back. Even more now that the adrenaline in you had become noticeable and part of you wondered if he was riling you up on purpose.

It wouldn't be the first time…Seokjin had pissed you off plenty of times before in-fact the man had been giving you a hard time since the first day you began. You couldn’t recall a single memory where you and your boss had a pleasant conversation with each other, not when you brought him the damaged and stolen vehicle of your ex to his garage and especially not when you had to explain the wreckage it’d received after you crashed it in an impromptu street race after your break up.

Now that you were thinking about it, you remembered how you even managed to land the job in the first place…Right, because maybe it didn’t help that your ex happened to be very good customer of the garage owner and that if it weren’t for him- you’d be facing a few years behind bars at the moment. Agreeing to never tell the poor soul the whereabouts of his precious child unless you agreed to work a few jobs for him.

Before then, he’d already been aware of your talent, hearing about it constantly from his babbling friend and always dreading the long convos of another man bragging about his girlfriend, who ‘knows how to drive a stick shift in more ways than one’. You grimaced from the crude comment when Jin had mentioned it to you and it’d been a pleasure knowing he wouldn't be able to say it anymore, Although the man himself had no problem bringing it up just to toy with you on the matter.

So yeah you kind of owed it to him, especially when he’d taken the liberty to fix the car up for you...but still...It doesn’t mean he gets to be an ass right now.

“You’re right Jin, It's not like I'm risking my life too,” The man rolls his eyes as soon as you speak “-Or that I managed to lose three police cars and a helicopter that nearly caught us from a misdirection you gave prior.” You huff out from your nose, your face turning so red Seokjin could've sworn he’d seen steam coming from your ears.

He then hears it before he sees it, the sound of an opening car door and shuffling coming from his side, only to see you clamber out of your seat angrily and turn his way. “You know what, forget it, we got the money... If you think what I did was selfish, fine, but I’m done, I did what you asked and I got us the hell out of there. So do us all a favor and take that damn stick out of your ass for once.” You snap at the older man, not giving him a chance to reply before slamming the car door in his face and also not noticing the way he shamelessly eyes you from his seat.

From behind the car, all three men freeze from your sudden outburst- their shocked expressions morphing while seeing someone so calm suddenly go-off on the most intimidating person here. You clear your throat from the awkward air surrounding you…maybe now would be a good time to leave. You think to yourself, your feeting shifting to turn away until one final sound of a slammed car door stops you as well.

Seokjin steps out, his own aura turning for the worst, but he doesn't plan to take it out on the others. No in-fact even as the three quickly move into action from seeing him appear as well, he doesn’t spare them glance when his eyes ignite on fire from your words. Seokjin’s nostrils flare, inked arms flexing at his sides under a light pink button down and the back of his neck gone completely red, bringing the tiniest bit of fear in you, that you’d gone too far.

Oh and you did.

“Jungkook.” The air practically vibrates with the bass of Seokjin’s voice. The younger stops in between Hoseok and Jimin, eyes widened with curiosity of hearing his name.

“Y-Yes?” he answers quickly.

Seokjin glances at him, an honest emotion written on his face- giving you whiplash from the sudden change of character. “Go home. It's late and the last thing I need is for your older brother to jump down my throat about where you’ve been. Tell Namjoon I’ll be making your drop Tomorrow morning.” He says with finalty. Namjoon...That name itself was enough to punch you in the gut and had it not been for the crippling rush plaguing your body- you’d be feeling quite nauseous at the mention of your ex-boyfriend.

At first Jungkook makes no effort to move completely bewildered by the sudden order “I...but-”

Jimin gives him a light shove to break his trance. “Go, before you piss him off even more -we got it from here.” he whispers but not low enough that you couldn’t catch it from your side of the car.

Jungkook, looks around to all of you for the last time tonight, muttering a silent confirmation before slowly backing off and heading in the opposite direction. No doubt heading out to his own car. After that is done Seokjin barks the simple orders to the two others “Count and leave.” Insisting how late it is for them as well and if he saw them again tonight- they’ll have more to worry about than whether or not they make it home.

Unlike Jungkook, the both of them agree with no hesitation, grabbing what was left in the trunk and heading off somewhere deeper into the garage without so much as glancing your way or saying goodnight. A strange way to act, considering they were always the first ones to do so and with that- you couldn’t stop the sinking foreboding in the pit of your stomach.

Oh.

Finally Seokjin comes back to you, expression blank and yet you could still feel the cold chill draping down your spine from the look- A strange mix of adrenaline with the beginnings of a newfound lust rising in your abdomen from the wolfish gaze he sends your way. Across from his side of the car, He snaps his fingers once again and points to you. “Come here.” He doesn’t question and neither do you, your body on autopilot as your slow footsteps reaches his ears. Each step felt non-existent as if you were walking into a trap and it was too late to turn back. You swallow, frowning up at the tense man staring at you while you walk around the car. Once close enough, you stop a few feet away from him, the butterflies in your stomach sending alarms to your head that you had found yourself in this situation with Seokjin.

Strange how it quickly turned to excitement.

He gives you a once over, narrowed eyes zoning in specifically on how far you’d allowed yourself space. He suddenly meets your eyes “Do you like pissing me off?” The male could only ask, crossing his arms together- your own eyes flickering to the tattooed biceps bulging out from the action.

You swallow in your very dry throat. “I could ask you the same thing, you’ve grown quite the record.”

He arches a brow, face hardening from the reply and he suddenly takes a step forward, beginning to circle opposite of the car and towards you. “ I’m not trying to be an ass, y/n.” He starts cautiously.

“You’ve been an ass since the first day we met,” You sputter in disbelief watching him take another slow step. “admit it you don’t like me because you think I broke your friend’s heart. Good news, it's the other way around.” You point out wearily, subconsciously taking a step back of your own towards the hood of the car.

It was no secret how bad of a break up you and your ex had and if anyone knew, it was definitely Jungkook. The constant bickering and fighting between you and his older brother, the poor thing had to have heard every horrible word you both spat at each other within their home and there was no surprise that even he wanted you to end it. Truth be told, you both were wrong, a bad match to put it lightly and the biggest problem seemed to be how easy it was for Namjoon to wear his heart on his sleeve. He was too jealous, too demanding, too sensitive and It's probably why anyone would think you were the one who hurt him, that definitely wasn’t the case.

Seokjin’s Features turn down in confusion, before a sly grin breaks across his face, a reaction you weren't expecting and his brows furrowing in as if the words you were speaking are absolute gibberish. “Is that what you think? That's... Interesting.” he ponders out loud, amusement clear as ever in his voice. “I mean you’re wrong, but you’re right I don’t like you.”

Your face goes flat, from where you stand Seokjin has gotten significantly closer- your entire body on high alert as your boss begins to tower over you. He tilts his head, your instincts screaming at you to run away and yet you don’t move a single inch- your heart pounding in your chest. “Your mouth and narcissistic tendencies piss me off to no end, but you can drive so Namjoon was right about that and If I actually gave a shit about your past relationship- I wouldn’t constantly find myself wanting to fuck a brat against his car at this moment.” He shrugs while bringing himself even closer, those sinful eyes swirling with a much darker intention.

“I-I what?”

Your entire nervous system jolts from the confession, the electrifying mixture of arousal strumming through you more than ever as the visual had gone to your head. It’s not like you’ve never thought of it before, After all you’d be lying to say you weren’t attracted to him- he was insanely gorgeous. However the problem came whenever Seokjin would go out of his way to comment negatively to you or for instance dismiss your every attempt whenever you tried to have a decent conversation with him.

But now that was different, So much that part of you couldn’t comprehend the sudden force of his lips crashing down on yours. A surprised yelp leaving your body from the soft plush fiercely molding against your mouth, accompanied with the searing cold of his silver lip ring. The kiss is completely unexpected and yet for some reason hot licks of arousal pool around within your stomach easily. You breathe deeply into him, two long arms coming to wrap tightly within the curve of your waist and Seokjin’s hand snakes slightly under the warmth of your shirt, resting at the small of your back.

All over, the butterflies you were feeling had gone completely haywire, your body being pressed firmly into his hard chest and on instinct your own hands had braced themselves onto his broad shoulders.

He groans, a startling vibration that has you rubbing your thighs together, managing to catch his attention in the process and Seokjin can’t help but to run his tongue across the bottom seam of your lips. It feels as if your body had naturally melted into him, the dominance in his kiss leaving you breathless and your head had begun to spin as he moves to suck on your bottom lip- wanting entry so bad he had even sank his teeth to elicit a moan from your end.

“Damn I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” His husky chuckle has you keening into him, the hands on your back roaming up further, when he lifts you more into him. By now Seokjin had managed to slip in completely, the wet muscle maneuvering in every way it pleased, taking over completely and tasting you to the fullest.

At some point you’d managed to get completely lost in Seokjin, all your previous thoughts vanishing within his embrace and slowly you could feel your panties dampening from his touch- a violent shiver racking down your spine once his cold fingertips grazes all the way up on your heating skin. Your back arches, the thick bulge of his erection digging into your abdomen and you nearly grow goosebumps everywhere. Without noticing, your boss had managed to back you up against the car, a muscular thigh parting itself between your legs and rutting up into you, causing you to shiver pleasurably into his hold.

With his lips continuing their attack on yours, you’re still reminded of the silver ring digging into you, your own impulse to latch onto it, teeth tugging slightly to push a faint gasp from him. He feels an immediate twitch in his pants, his own arousal getting to his head and He suddenly parts- “Fuck okay.” You hear him breath, panting as the air finally makes its way back into your lungs and it doesn’t dawn on you what exactly just happened. Perhaps it could have been from the adrenaline running through your system or maybe that it’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone except Namjoon- but slowly you felt yourself slipping away, your fucked out gaze meeting Seokjin’s feral one and you held no ounce of regret.

“Lets try not tugging on that.” He suddenly gives a dry laugh, but there's no denying the deep lust residing in it.

“S-Sorry, we probably should have stopped sooner.” he hears you breathe in response, your eyes clouded with a long gone emotion and there was nothing more he wanted than to bend you over and fuck you mercilessly.

He’s wanted that for a while now, often finding himself wondering what it would be like to have the prideful little vixen rendered helpless under his touch. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t like you, but damn if you didn’t turn the man on beyond what would even make sense. To him, you were infuriating and at the same time a forbidden fruit to be eaten. How you’d come to the conclusion he disliked you because of Namjoon he wouldn’t understand, but what he does know is that you were a wild card and one his friend thought could be tamed. He was wrong, and Seokjin could tell the second you brought in the poor scrapped vehicle without an ounce of guilt.

“You’re not sorry.” he whispers lower than ever, catching you by surprise. “If anything you’re the opposite...you’re practically grinding yourself on me.”

Your hands dig nervously into the cloth of his shirt, an untamable throbbing striking you between your thighs proving the truth behind his statement. As if completely drawn to him, all you do was wish his lips were back on yours- your eyes switching repeatedly to stare up at him and that's when you feel it, a movement so slow and torturous it nearly had your knees buckling.

Somehow without being noticed, His hand had begun to move from behind your back, coming around between the both of you and landing at the front of your jeans. He suddenly pops the button open, your zipper being tugged down afterwards and Seokjin watches you cautiously as he slips his hand in and over your clothed heat. His lips part at the feel, your slick wetness drenching the frail material on his hand. “And quite frankly, you’re a terrible liar...aren’t you kiddo?”

You whimper pitifully rutting yourself down onto his hand, enjoying the pressure of his fingers gliding over your slit and rubbing teasing circles around your clit.

“...please.” you find yourself saying to him, your hands clutching him tighter.

“Please? That's new, but I don’t know what you’re asking for.” He frowns, applying more pressure between your folds and then switching to pull your underwear aside. You gasp at the new pleasure, your pussy becoming more and more sensitive to his touch and it was foreign to suddenly feel this way for him, at this point you didn’t care.

“Jin just fuck me already.” You groan, two of his fingers sliding downwards and deeper into your folds, stopping right at your entrance before one sinks in and then the other. Your body tenses, pressing yourself closer to him and he smirks wickedly-wanting to hear exactly those words coming from your mouth.

Seokjin suddenly leans down, bringing his lips close against your ear “That's no way to speak to your boss- If you really want my cock, you’re gonna have to be nicer about it...So let's try again hm?” You gasp, feeling the slow thrusts of his slender digits before he curls them inside. He hums slowly, soft lips caressing over your earlobe and trailing down more to place a soft kiss on your neck. “What are you asking for y/n?” Seokjin tries once more, licking and nibbling on the soft flesh while fucking his fingers a little harder into you.

This time your knees really do buckle, a soft mewl coming deep from within your chest and you don’t hesitate to breathe out what you wanted. “Jin please I need you to fuck me.”

He hums out again, this time as if to think more on the decision...as if he was actually going to change his mind. “Now?”

“ Y-Yes.” He hears your reply, so soft and desperate almost able to rub off on him in the process.

“Right here?” By now you could hear the smile on his lips, which was strange since you’d actually never seen one on him. The idea makes you roll your eyes while muttering another yes, but you bite your lip immediately afterwards- your stomach swirling with warmth from the new action.

It doesn’t last long however, in the next second Seokjin was slipping his hand away from you, placing one last kiss at the bottom of your neck before pulling back with hunger swirling fierce in his eyes. “You know, you sound a lot hotter when you beg.” He teases watching your face screw up into one of your famous glares.

“Fuck o-” You’re being moved before you could finish. He grabs your waist, twisting it with enough force to have you turning away from him and presses your front towards the car.

“Bend.” He grunts when you take too long to catch on.

You yelp in again in surprise, a huge palm pushing towards the middle of your back and suddenly you’re doing just as he says- bending forward over the warm hood of the car. Your ass pushed back towards his front and unable to see anything he was doing. Your body trembles from the new position, feeling Seokjin’s hands run soothingly down your sides towards the back of your ass- giving it a harsh squeeze. “Good little brat.”

Bent away from him, you silently await the moment his fingers would then latch onto the band of your pants and undies. You bite your lip, the cold air rushing around the heated flesh of your ass, his knuckles grazing your hips as he tugs them down to the middle of your thighs. Your pussy clenches to the praise he gives you, wetness seeping out and down your exposed core while also making Seokjin groan out from the sight. He takes in another breath- mouth watering to your drenched core and wanting so badly to taste you in the moment, but there just wasn’t enough time.

“Jin hurry.” you whimper, feeling a single finger glide up your slit once again- taking the opportunity to sway your ass in front him, inviting him.

“Fuck, ” He swallows, his own hands flying for his zipper and you can hear as he undoes himself behind you.

Part of you wondered just for a second if he’d happened to have any protection on him- realizing how you both were out in the open and-“O-Oh.” You suddenly hiss into the silent air.

Seokjin, grips himself at the base of his dick and presses into one side of your cheek to spread you out for him. Thank god he’d prepped you before, your heart racing in your chest as the warm mushroom tip presses into you, gliding up and down your bare core. Eventually when it’s coated enough he stops just outside your entrance, pressing himself in and begins to sink himself slowly into your tight walls.

Hissing again, you gasp at the unbelievable stretch of his girth, your pussy slowly taking him in and molding around him almost to a point where it was slightly uncomfortable- however despite his nature, Seokjin is gentle about it. He rocks himself in, giving you time to adjust to the size of him and there was no denying the gradually growing pleasure that was beginning to take over your body.

“Yes…” you gasp out breathlessly, hands bracing under your body once you feel him reach deep inside you, able to touch the special area of nerves that made up your g-spot...you start to become restless.

“Fuck you’re so tight, I need to move.” His voice comes out strained, grip on your hips tightening a bit more, you simply whimper in return while pushing yourself back onto him fully. In unison, the both of you groan out in pleasure, his slow rocking stuttering from the action.

Seokjin, Takes in a breath- pulling himself slowly out of your heat and snaps his hips back into you. He does this again, pulling back and thrusting into you a bit harder before setting a comfortable pace. With another cry coming from you, it almost takes everything in him not to lose control, his slower thrusts giving you enough to get off and still you need more.

Oh yeah it's definitely the adrenaline.

You whimper, voice cracking as his length hits your g-spot over again. “More...p-please” you try biting your lip.

Seokjin hears you, the untamable emotion riding in his chest fluttering from the request. His hand leaves your hip to bury itself in the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair to pull you up to him. You cry out, his grip twisting in your hair to turn your face towards him. When you do, your breathing stops, dark eyes lit with so passion in them you nearly melt right there.

“Do you want me to fuck you harder brat? Is that what you’re asking?” His deep and breathless voice vibrates on your back. Without thinking you’re nodding your head frantically, a desperate need is filling your eyes that has Seokjin’s will to hold back snapping in half.

Immediately he slams his lips back onto yours, the grip in your hair becoming painful as he pulls out to ram himself back into you. Your hands reach back, managing to latch onto his thighs and you can't help loud cries you set free into his kiss. Seokjin moans too, loving the feel of your body shaking under him and he slowly feels his own resolve. He suddenly breaks the kiss, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer and Seokjin lets you fall forward again, suddenly taking a rougher turn to make you reach your release.

With a deeper snap of his hips, the delicious stretch of his cock begins to turn your legs to jelly, a louder moan falling past your lips and into the night air as another one of his powerful thrusts jerks your body forward. Your torso falls even more, the warmth from the hood caressing your chest and easily you were met with your fucked out reflection. Teary eyes, wild hair and a sweaty face twisted into ecstasy- you shut your eyes before the predicament could truly set in.

How the hell did you get here? Letting Seokjin fuck your brains out in such an open space and loving the thrill of it. His fingers deep within your hair, pulling and tugging you back towards him as he drills himself in and out of you repeatedly, bringing your awaiting orgasm closer and faster than ever, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Such a good little slut, Who would've thought you’d be so whipped for my dick.” You hear him growl from behind you, a large hand connecting harshly with the soft skin of your ass. A tiny shriek is ripped from your throat and you then let out a tiny sob as your walls quivered around him from the action. He chuckles darkly, gripping harder onto your hips as he picks up the pace and begins to pound harder into you- loving every sexy ass moan that leaves your mouth every time he thrusts into you. “Oh the brat likes that? Do you like when I talk to you like a cock loving slut? You don’t want me to call you princess or baby girl?”

Your mouth parts in protest “I-...f-fuck Seokjin shut u-up, yes!” You cry out, As your nerves begin to prickle with the beginnings of your release- your sweaty hands squeaking up against the hood as they try to grab anything to anchor you down and before you know it- he's pressing down harder into your back, his other hand leaving your hair to come and rub frenzied circles around your clit.

“Oh shit, fuck you just gushed around me. I bet you’re going cum.” He pants, thrusts becoming relentless and overwhelming. “ Fuck, fuck yes- keep taking me just like that...wanna cum in this tight little pussy. Do you want to cum on my dick? W-wanna be a good little slut and let me cum in whats mine?”

“Yes J-Jin, Fuck yes!” By now you felt as if your body was going limp, your loud cries turning into drawled out moans and it could be accompanied by his grunts of pleasure as well as the connecting of his hips to your sore ass.

He swallows a fevered moan of his own “Then cum, show me who this pussy belongs to.”

You grow more butterflies in your stomach, hearing him call you his so suddenly when the guy had barely acknowledged you before. It was confusing to say the least, but all the while so fucking hot and you didn’t have the time to truly comprehend it- instead you allowed the pleasure to consume you. The strong feeling of intense warmth abruptly overtaking your body, your toes curling inside your shoes, a sharp squeak escaping your lips and Seokjin could feel your body stiffen under him as your legs shook sporadically from your powerful orgasm.

Seokjin growls out a guttural moan, His sloppy thrusts tipping him over once he feels your walls clenched tightly around him- bringing his orgasm on so suddenly, the next thing he knew, Seokjin was suddenly collapsing heavily over your back with a curse. “Shit!”

You pant trying to ride out your high, hips continuing to rock against him even as his cock swells in you. Sudden spurts of hot cum drench your walls and manages to trigger the aftershocks of your own release.

“Um wow.” You breath out, after staying in your position for a few minutes, both of you trying to catch your breath. Seokjin’s chest could be felt rising and falling heavily onto your back, his length softening within you and it was then then that you finally heard him speak.

“He was right.” Jin mumbles out into the now silent garage, making you frown in confusion.

“Who was?”

Seokjin presses his forehead into your back, his mouth twitching to hide a smile even though you couldn’t see him and his silence probably should have been a red flag for you, however you don’t press any further. Its until the small vibrations of his chuckles and the feel of his chest shaking behind you has you curious as why the man would say such a random statement after sex.

“Namjoon…” Seokjin is full on laughing and before you know it, he's lifting off of you and sliding himself out while making you hiss. Once the joke registers, you find yourself rolling your eyes and you're lifting yourself up as well, wincing from the stickiness between your thighs and that you would need to hurry home fast so you could clean up.

Watching him put himself together, you start to do the same- reaching for your pants to pull them up and you’re sending him a disgusted look while fastening your button “Don't Seokjin, please don’t say it.” You say as you then run your hand up to fix your hair.

Already done, he steps closer to you - sending you a devilish grin that you’d never seen before, the look shocking you in the process and you don’t understand why you were still feeling the strange flutter in your stomach, your adrenaline long gone. Suddenly he pulls you closer, a hand tipping under your chin to have you look up at him and then...

“you really do know how to drive a stick shift in more ways than one.” He whispers dreamily before cackling in an unattractive manner and you don’t think you’ve ever wanted to punch someone more.

“I regret having sex with you.”

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bella-caecilia · 3 years

Note

For your color drabble prompt: Fluffy yellow and purple, please!

Hey, dear! Thank you for prompting me :) The purple prompt can be found here (x). And now finally, here comes the yellow colour drabble. I decided to make it pre-canon (hope you’re alright with this). The idea for this prompt came to me as I thought about the fact that it’s confirmed the first thing Robert does every morning is giving his wife a kiss. Hope you enjoy this young Cobert fluff!

Yellow – Happiness

1891

First, she thought sunlight kissed her awake. Tickling her nose, warming her cheeks. But then Cora remembered that the thick drapes in the Mercia bedroom and the deep winter months made an early greeting by the sun itself highly unlikely. And then there it was again. A warm sensation brushing her face.

She tried to turn in her sheets but something held her back. She groaned against the unwanted resistance in the early morning and made an attempt at pulling the sheets over her head instead.

“Hey…” sounded a soft-spoken hum.

It still confused Cora to wake up and not be alone in her bed. It was a sweet dream to finally come true. But it was so different from how life had been before, that in her especially sleepy state in the early hours of the day she always needed still some minutes to adjust to reality.

But now, she remembered Robert lying next to her in the sheets. Her heart skipped a beat at the realisation, and she was a whole deal less sleepy instantly. She ceased her fidgeting, abandoning the intention to return to the land of dreams, and tried to take in the sensations around and inside her in detail instead, her eyes still closed. That she was not yet ready for, looking into the eye of another freezing day of wintery hustle and bustle when all she wanted to do was to stay cuddled up in soft blankets.

She blamed her rapidly growing desire for comfort and warmth on her physical state. Mama and also her lady’s maid didn’t think it unusual for her to develop stronger desires and aversions here and there since the doctor had confirmed the glorious news of the growing offspring blossoming under her heart. The more so as Cora’s urges weren’t particularly unpleasant or concerning in any way. Mama said her ‘pregnancy laziness’ was maybe a little unpractical regarding the teaching for becoming a worthy successor and that it had a snobbish touch to it, but Mama meant she could deal with that and the elaborate lessons would be resumed even more resolute after the birth of the little joy. The thought made Cora a little restless because her lessons as they were called (it was actually just her days being spent closely with Mama who picked up every little opportunity to teach Cora a lesson about the proper aristocratic life), got dangerously close. The birth of her baby was a few more weeks away, two months at the most the doctor said, and Cora couldn’t imagine returning to daily life in Mama’s presence as exhausting and testing as it had been before her long-awaited pregnancy, probably even more so. She would have her lovely little baby, and she wouldn’t want to do anything but devote herself to her child. Hers and Robert’s. Oh, it gave her nearly more thrills to think about that than when she first found out she indeed was with child. Back then, everyone had been pleased and especially relieved to find her capable of bearing their family’s future. But the news hadn’t been connected to the mutual joy between her and her husband as Cora had dreamt of in her most daring dreams. They hadn’t been the loving couple overjoyed by the blessed proof of their love. Robert had been pleased and happy and had then been able to divert parts of his attention to other things. Cora had been filled with her new purpose and had been set to start this journey on her own merits. Her joy had been damped by the rapid decrease of Robert’s visits at night. But after a few weeks, she had pulled herself together and had tried to fulfil her role as a joyful expecting mother as best as she could. It wasn’t a role unsuited to her, and that made it easier to stick to her determined decision of making her success in her new role independent from the state of her marriage.

But something had changed during her pregnancy. Something inside of Robert, and Cora couldn’t pinpoint it to a specific event. But suddenly, he was there. With her. And now, he sought her company and welcomed it if she sought his. He came to her room more often and he even stayed the nights. And recently, he took up to sleeping in her bed just to be at her side. Cora considered that perhaps his own bed was just terribly uncomfortable, but the way he stroked her cheek before he turned to lay on his side to fall asleep told her otherwise. The explanation Cora didn’t dare to consider on her own came after some weeks. His love confession had been a little bit rambled and had been characterised by the red tip of his ears and the nervous wringing of his hands as she had confronted him one night with the question of what he did in her room again after they hadn’t even slept with each other just next to each other the last couple of nights. In retrospect, that had been a move too fiery for Cora’s own liking but the repeated kicking in her abdomen resulted in her portraying more of a quick tongue than was typical for her. And it turned out all just great. He loved her; he really did.

Cora couldn’t comprehend how they got closer with every day. She hadn’t imagined it possible. They loved each other, and Cora thought this was it. They were to love each other now, and things would be sweet, and romantic, and, golly, easier! But her marriage with Robert got more exciting with every day that passed and more familiar at the same time. Cora didn’t know how this worked but she couldn’t care less as long as she saw Robert’s adoring face every day.

Nearly every morning now, she was greeted by his softly-gazing face. He had taken up the habit of kissing her awake with a small peck on her cheek or forehead. And with a “good morning, my dear” he slipped carefully and quietly out of the bed to don his dressing gown and leave for his room next doors to ring for his valet. Cora was usually left in a sleepy and blissful haze.

“Hey… it’s just me,” Robert now whispered, and Cora felt his palm gently stroking the curls loosely adorning her temple. His hand followed the track of her probably wildly flowing mess of hair, only barely held together by an amber ribbon. “Please relax,” his voice was velvety soft. A tiny sigh escaped Cora’s lips.

Just as she thought how distinctively she sensed Robert’s warmth at her left, she felt the distant pressure of his other hand on the blankets covering her belly. She opened her eyes for the first time this day, and after blinking a few times, she took in her husband lounging next to her, slightly propped up on his elbow and following the tentative movements of his own hand on the protruding abdomen of hers, hidden and veiled by light covers. The whole room was set in a warm honey light. The marigold curtains in Cora’s room were suffused by the first rays of the morning sun, and it reminded her of the few walks with Robert at golden hour. She had always rested her hand a little more firmly in the crook of his arm and had imagined how they made the exact same walk but with Robert blissfully telling her about the beauty of nature and of his darling wife. Maybe, she contemplated, they could take a walk like this sometime. Maybe it wasn’t a dream so far away anymore.

But with Robert’s beatific serenity, this moment was perhaps even better than these walks at golden hour. It seemed he hadn’t yet noticed that she had finally opened her eyes, and maybe he had even forgotten that she was awake because his caresses on her belly became a bit more present while his gaze got dreamier.

“Good morning, Robert,” she said softly.

…

She looked at him with smiling eyes, her light blue eyes shining nearly golden in the morning light.

Robert didn’t understand how she made him happier with every day. It didn’t matter really what she did, but just being her sunny self lightened his mood considerably. And even though, she had already received her good morning kiss Robert had to lean forward once again.

His lips cupped the round of her cheek gently. It was the first time he realised fully what the expression apple cheeks meant. It wasn’t mainly about the red colour for him that characterised a young lady’s apple cheeks. It was about the full form highlighting the sweet cut of her cheekbones. Maybe it was also a lot about the colour he pondered but he didn’t care because Cora’s cheeks were apple cheeks nonetheless even if they had only a slightly rosy hue to them most of the time. Her cheeks felt so soft and tender against his lips. He hadn’t anticipated the pleasure of kissing someone’s cheeks before his marriage. But it was a great pleasure, and he decided to take his time for this today. Cora laid serenely beneath, and he once felt her fluttering eyelashes tickling his cheek. A strong urge to protect her struck him, and he held a securing hand around her shoulder.

After some time, he pulled back slowly and his eyes instinctively sought her happy smile again.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Oh, my lady’s maid,” Cora whispered, her wide eyes locking his eyes with a look of great intensity only Cora mastered. Robert remembered that Turner, Cora's lady's maid, was tasked by his mother with waking Cora at the right hour for the impending events of the day. Apparently, this started rather early today.

“What are we to do?” he whispered back unsurely. He wasn’t used to this. Usually, he got up and rang for his valet before Cora’s maid turned up. They seemed to have lost track of time today.

Cora shuffled back fully beneath the blankets. “Pretend to be asleep,” she breathed.

“What?” he mouthed silently as the doorknob moved with quiet noises.

“Trust me,” she responded. When Robert’s head hit the pillow and his eyes closed, he felt the rush of cold air indicating the maid’s entrance. The dull thumping of her heels on the carpet filled the bedroom. After a few steps, there was a sudden quiet except for an audible intake of breath. Robert knew it was the moment the maid had noticed him. He dearly hoped she didn’t saw the light colouring rising up his chest and neck in embarrassment. He really liked sleeping in his wife’s room but he didn’t think it would be the best to be found there in the mornings. It should at least appear he had a little bit of propriety. The servant made a beeline for the windows on the other side of the room swiftly. Apparently, she had decided to open the curtains and send the couple a silent message thereby. Then, there was movement next to Robert in the sheets.

“Turner?” his wife’s clear voice spoke softly after the first curtain was pulled aside. “Would you mind letting the drapes closed? Lord Downton and I still need some minutes to rest I think,” she whispered, her voice more groggily than seconds before.

The maid’s response was breathed in passing. Something between “Of course, milady,” and “Excuse me, milady,” and Robert tried to stay ‘asleep’ as best as possible all the while. The door closed silently behind Turner.

“Cora!” he hissed when the air was clear. “They will talk!” The look on Cora’s face was not a single bit concerned. How could she be so unbothered by things like this? “Mama won’t take resting in the mornings, in your room, as an acceptable occupation for the viscount and viscountess,” he clarified.

“Be that as it may,” she stated with calm resolution. “I think these little steps into uncustomary terrains are worth it, Robert.” His name rolled from her tongue so very American. That was probably why she didn’t bother with social standards. It was as Mama said so often. Her American way of thinking made it so very hard for her to adopt the English way of living. But Robert realised that it was actually just when it was the two of them that Cora really didn’t care for social standards. Otherwise, she was so very eager to do things right the way Mama proclaimed. She was willing to internalise aristocratic propriety so much she already was a lady.

“Worth it what for?” he inquired carefully, not quite knowing if this was the right way to go, but desperately needing for her to say it. He just wanted to stay by her side, enveloped by her warmth right now. Maybe her explanation would help him ignore propriety and Mama’s expectations for a moment.

“For us, it’s worth it, Robert. For us,” she said patiently as if it was the clearest thing there was, and with the gentle tone of a loving mother, explaining her child the same simple thing over and over again. She would be just perfect with their child. She was already perfect.

Robert responded to her brave conquest of a prolonged morning for the two of them with a firm and eager kiss on her lips.

#i actually didn't plan on a pregnancy fic #but here we are i guess #cobert fanfiction #cobert drabble #young cobert #cobert #cora crawley #robert crawley #downton abbey fanfiction #downton abbey

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nicknellie · 3 years

Text

Anonymous requested: Carrie and Flynn play love interests on TV, and viewers ship them together hard core, not knowing that off camera there is some MAJOR pining (hidden by fake “hatred” for each other) happening. featuring background willex being exasperated by their lesbian friends not knowing how to function around each other?

I’m sorry you sent such an amazing request and then I effectively left you on read for literally months. Seriously anon, this is glorious, I had so much fun writing it. I got like 1.5k words in and realised I had not yet got to anything even close to your request, so there’s quite a bit of background, but I’m still happy with how it turned out (even if it is a lot angstier than you were probably expecting). I really hope you like it, thank you for being so patient!

She Was a Goddamn Dream

Despite the way she acted, there weren’t actually that many things that Carrie Wilson was completely and utterly certain that she was good at. There was her singing and dancing, but every time she watched back recordings of her performances she would pick out a dozen things she could have improved upon; there was her acting, but every time it got to the tenth take of a scene she began to feel like she was messing up time and time again, tripping over her words, delivering her lines flatly with no emotion; there was her frequent attempts to connect with her fanbase, but every now and then a fan would take it too far and she would feel like the one who had ruined it all. People could tell her those things didn’t matter or that they weren’t her fault as many times as they liked, but it never stopped them gnawing away at Carrie’s self-esteem, making her feel like sometimes she didn’t deserve the fame or renown she had built for herself over the years.

But there was one thing she knew for a fact that she was good at: being in love with Flynn Taylor and hiding it.

Carrie had first met Flynn in elementary school. She had been playing with her long-time best friends Alex and Julie when little Flynn, a new student, had walked up to them and asked if she could join in because their game (something about aliens and cowboys if Carrie remembered correctly) looked really fun. Carrie could still recall how Flynn had looked that day, even if it was going on twenty years ago – her hair hung down by her shoulders in cute twists, she had worn a bright pink t-shirt and blindingly yellow dungarees, and she wore sneakers that lit up when she stamped her feet.

Carrie remembered thinking how cool Flynn looked (for a six-year-old) and something inside her had turned defensive. She had advocated for leaving Flynn out of the game, claiming they already had enough players and it would ruin it if they had any more, but Julie had pointed out that if Flynn joined, they would have an equal number of aliens and cowboys so Alex wouldn’t be so outnumbered by the two of them anymore. Carrie had quickly been outvoted, Flynn had been allowed to play with them, she and Julie had clicked in an instant, and Carrie decided that day that she didn’t like Flynn Taylor, not one bit.

For a few years, things had been a little rough. Carrie wasn’t shy about how much she disliked Flynn, but in return Flynn didn’t mind telling anyone who would listen about how much she hated Carrie. The two of them would bicker and squabble and argue over the tiniest of things, and Carrie only realised how bad it was getting when Julie blew up at them.

It was sometime in their freshman year of high school and their feud had been going on for years without showing any signs of letting up. Julie had been going through the worst time of her life; her mother (Rose, who was the closest thing Carrie had to a mother as well, but she knew it wasn’t the same thing) had passed away, she was facing getting kicked out of the music programme for lack of participation, her family was considering moving house, and every day it seemed like more and more things got added to her list of things that were going wrong in her life. Carrie and Flynn had made a silent agreement to put their arguing on hold for Julie’s sake, knowing their friend didn’t need that extra stress in her life right then. And for a while, it had been going well.

Until suddenly it was going badly again.

The three of them were having a movie night at Carrie’s house and everything was great. They were watching their favourite films, eating copious amounts of junk food, talking and laughing and having fun, and Carrie couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Julie smile so much. It had all been going so well.

But then Flynn suggested a movie, but Carrie had wanted to watch something else, and one thing had led to another until they were yelling at each other in the middle of Carrie’s living room, the whole world dropped away around them to the point that all they could focus on was each other. They were so enraptured in their argument that neither of them heard Julie’s phone chime, neither of them watched her open a text from her dad, neither of them saw the tears slide down her cheeks as she read it. Neither of them noticed anything was wrong until Julie tried to suppress a sob but instead just made it come out louder than it would have. Flynn and Carrie had turned to face her, argument forgotten in an instant, and rushed to comfort their friend.

Julie had kind of lost it that night. She had told them everything on her mind from the text she’d just received from her dad telling her they’d officially found a buyer for the house to the fact that she had been exhausted for years from all their arguing. She explained that she thought recently the two of them were finally getting better, finally working on having a civil relationship, and maybe something was finally going right for her because they wouldn’t be at each other’s throats all the time anymore.

“I guess not,” she had said defeatedly, fiercely scrubbing at her face in an attempt to dispel any of her tears, “because you two were just faking it for me. I told you I didn’t want anyone to tiptoe around me like I’ll break if I’m dropped, but you still did. I thought you guys would understand that I just want things to be normal again.”

“We were only trying to make things easy on you,” Carrie explained, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Yeah,” Flynn agreed, “we never meant to upset you, Jules.”

Julie had scoffed. “Yeah, well, you’ve done a great job of that.”

Julie had apologised for it all in the morning, but Carrie didn’t blame her for anything she’d said the night before. She had clearly got a lot off her chest that she really needed to, and everything she had said to Carrie and Flynn had been deserved in a way. Carrie knew that her and Flynn’s intentions had only been good, but Julie had asked for reality, and they hadn’t given her that.

Which had got Carrie thinking – in this situation, what was her reality?

For years and years, she would have said she hated Flynn. She would have believed it, too. She would have said that from the moment they’d met on that playground, Flynn had been her worst nightmare. But when she thought back on everything, how she saw Flynn even when they were fighting, she couldn’t call Flynn a nightmare.

She was a goddamn dream.

Carrie had spent night and day thinking about what Flynn really meant to her, why she made her so angry, whether it was really anger at all, and she had come to a revelation that really wasn’t as surprising to her as it should have been. It turned out that it wasn’t anger at all, it was a severe case of repression and Carrie Wilson was very much a lesbian.

That was another thing she knew she was good at – repressing things.

Though she was kind of underwhelmed by her epiphany (really, she thought, she should have worked it out a lot sooner), it did make things harder. Now she knew that she didn’t want to argue with Flynn, she wanted to kiss her, and that was very inconvenient. They didn’t argue as much anymore anyway, making a genuine effort to like each other rather than pretending for Julie’s sake, but that just meant that Flynn smiled at her more often and laughed at Carrie’s snarky jokes and it was nearly impossible not to fall at her feet in worship every time she so much as breathed.

So Carrie got very good at pretending she wasn’t in love with Flynn. By the time they were halfway through freshman year, they were friends and nobody ever pointed out that Carrie felt much more than friendship. Things in all their lives began to improve – Carrie and Flynn were no longer feuding, Julie ended up not moving house and got back into the music programme when she started a band, and she got herself a boyfriend – Luke – who made her the happiest Carrie had ever seen her.

(It had prompted many a discussion about whether or not Carrie and Flynn had anyone in mind they wanted to date. Carrie had panicked and said Nick, the school’s star lacrosse player who she had spoken to maybe three times and was definitely not her type. Flynn had given a suspicious hum and said she was still figuring out what it was she wanted; Carrie had excused herself and had a ten-minute panic in the bathroom over the implications of that.)

By the time university rolled around, Julie entered the big leagues with Julie and the Phantoms, deciding not to pursue further education but instead focus on her career, while Carrie and Flynn had gone to the same performing arts school. The same performing arts school where they’d been hired by the same agent. The same agent who kept getting them roles on the same shows together. It was a ticking time bomb, Carrie knew, and it went off a few days after her twenty-fourth birthday.

Carrie had been hired to play Flynn’s love interest in the third season of a show that Flynn had been cast in two years previously.

The truth was, it was both a dream come true and a living nightmare all at the same time. For one thing, Carrie adored the show and had been aching for a role on it since it came out. But on the other hand, she would be Flynn’s love interest, and according to the scripts they would have their first on-screen kiss at the end of the season – Carrie always made sure to separate her work from reality, but in her mind, kissing Flynn was kissing Flynn, no matter what disguise it was hidden by, and it was what she would have to do if she wanted the job.

She tried not to panic, she really did, but it wasn’t the easiest thing to not be panicked by, which was where everything started to fall apart.

It was the day of the kiss scene and Carrie was a wreck (which was putting it kindly). She had been pacing back and forth in her trailer in front of Alex for more than half an hour, trying not to mess up her hair every time she ran her hands through it, saying words but not making any sense.

“Carrie,” Alex said, equal parts firm and amused. Carrie stopped her pacing and turned to face him so fast she was surprised she didn’t get whiplash. “Will you please stop moving? You’re making me travel sick.”

“Very funny,” she deadpanned, but nonetheless she crashed down next to him on the little couch, flopping against him and resting her head on his shoulder. He easily threw an arm around her and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the stress she was under, but the pounding of her heart made it very difficult.

“Talk to me,” Alex said. “What exactly is it that’s getting you so worked up here?”

“I have to kiss Flynn,” Carrie grumbled.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Alex asked.

“No,” Carrie groaned. “Don’t ask stupid questions. It’s a good thing, which is why I’m mad about it. Keep up, Alex.”

She felt him shake with a badly hidden laugh and scowled. “There’s no point asking me to keep up when you’re at least a hundred steps ahead of me. Explain it to me, get it off your chest.”

Carrie groaned dramatically but nonetheless she lifted her head and turned to face Alex, looking him in the eye.

“Fine,” she said heavily. “I’m in love with Flynn.”

Alex nodded. “Yep.”

“We have been acting like we’re in love with each other for the entirety of this season.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s been longer than that–”

Carrie smacked his arm and he grinned devilishly. “Don’t interrupt me. We’ve been acting like we’re in love with each other for the entirety of this season, and now I have to kiss her.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Helpful,” Alex said with an expression that suggested it was anything but helpful.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” Carrie asked. She was almost certain that Alex was messing with her now, forcing her to admit what he already knew because he probably thought it would do her some good, and she didn’t know if she was grateful for that or not.

Alex just nodded once.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I don’t want to kiss Flynn because I want to kiss Flynn. If I kiss her on the show, it won’t be real, but I won’t be able to stop thinking about it anyway. I won’t be able to stop myself from wanting to do it again, but not as our characters – as us. I already want to kiss her half the time and I know that’ll only get worse once I’ve done it for real. But I won’t be able to do it again unless it’s scripted because Flynn doesn’t love me back. Do you see my problem now?”

Alex was silent for a beat, his face working through a thousand different emotions in one go. He opened his mouth to reply, closed it again, and whipped out his phone, opening up a message.

“Oh, this is how it is?” Carrie said indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I spill my secrets to you and your response is to text someone instead of reacting at all?”

“I’m texting Willie,” he explained. “I’m asking him something.”

“What?”

That moment, Alex’s phone pinged with a text from Willie. He opened it up, smirked, and showed Carrie the screen.

Alex’s text read: hey, Flynn is in love with Carrie right?

Willie’s reply said: only for like ten years, yeah

Carrie read the messages. Then she read them again. Then she read them a third time, refreshed the chat, and read it again. Then she swiped Alex’s phone from his hand and turned it off, chucking it across the trailer so it landed in a pile of clothes she’d been meaning to get washed.

“Okay,” Alex said. “What was that for?”

“That’s not helpful,” Carrie whined. “How do you expect me to focus now that’s in my head?”

Alex blinked bewilderedly. “Because now you know Flynn loves you back. Which means you two can get together. You’d be able to kiss off-screen, and you were literally saying that’s what you wanted about two minutes ago.”

“But she doesn’t love me back,” Carrie said like Alex was being particularly dense.

“Were we reading the same messages?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Yes,” Carrie stressed, “but you’re wrong. She’s never flirted with me or said anything that might sound even a little bit like she thinks of me that way or anything like that. There’s no way she likes me.”

Alex opened his mouth, presumably to argue with her, but at that moment the door of the trailer opened and someone popped their head in to call Carrie to set. She thanked them and they closed the door as she got up to get ready. Alex heaved an exasperated sigh and said, “It’ll be fine, okay? If it helps in any way, just focus on the fact that it’s not you and Flynn – it’s Monica and Kai. It’s your character, not you. Got it?”

“Yes,” Carrie lied, leaving the trailer. “I’ve got it.”

Walking to set felt like walking to her death. Carrie was certain that nothing good would come out of this scene. The kiss would look realistic, yes, but she couldn’t truthfully claim that was because she was a good actress – it would only look real because it was real for her.

She arrived on set and steeled herself, going over her lines in her head and trying to ground herself. She’d been on this set so many times throughout the season; it was Kai’s apartment (Flynn’s character, a charming DJ with a rebellious streak and secret penchant for art and literature), utterly trashed after it had been broken into the previous episode. According to the script, Monica – Carrie’s character – would be helping Kai clean things up when Kai got upset about the whole situation, and it would fall to Monica to help her calm down and search through all her feelings. It would end with a big revelation as they admitted their love for one another, and their kiss would fade to black, ending the episode and the series.

On paper, it looked good. In Carrie’s mind, it was the worst thing that could have ever happened to her, but all she could do was go with it.

All thoughts of calming herself down bled out of her mind the moment Flynn walked onto set. She was in costume, a bright red tracksuit and minimal makeup, and she was smiling from ear to ear. The look was nothing special, but it was beauty if Carrie had ever seen it. Comparing herself to Flynn, she felt underdressed, even though her costume of a floral summer dress and cream-coloured cardigan was much less casual than Flynn’s.

When Flynn turned and met Carrie’s eye, she smiled that wonderous smile of hers, the one that made Carrie feel like they were the only two people in existence, everything else dropping away from them. She tried to smile back, but it was weak and close to a grimace, so she turned away to save herself the embarrassment.

And five minutes later, they began the scene.

To begin with, it went well. Carrie immersed herself in the role of Monica, playing up her concern for Kai, making sure to watch her with the most obvious heart-eyes she could manage (which wasn’t difficult). When Kai broke down crying, Monica rushed to her side, wrapped her in the tightest embrace possible, and tried not to cry herself. She leaned in close and whispered the words she had so painstakingly memorised into her ear.

“This wasn’t your fault,” she breathed. “You could never have known this would happen.”

“But it did happen,” Kai sobbed, her breath rattling heart-wrenchingly. “They targeted me. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Monica said softly, holding Kai tighter. “I can’t imagine how anyone would ever want to hurt you like this. Or hurt you at all. You don’t… you’ve been through so much, Kai, and you don’t deserve any of it. You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I wish I had those magic words that would somehow fix all this, but I don’t. All I can do is be here for you because that’s what you deserve. You deserve someone who’ll pick you up when you’re down, someone who will go out of their way to make you happy in life, someone who would love you forever and not think about stopping that for a second.”

Kai drew back a little but remained close enough to look Monica in the eye. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… I… Kai, I…” The words died in Monica’s throat.

“I love you,” Kai finished, the start of an incredulous half-smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Monica whispered. “I love you, Kai.”

“God, I love you too.”

And then when they surged together, meeting in a fierce kiss, it suddenly wasn’t Monica and Kai anymore. This was Carrie and Flynn, kissing each other like they meant it, hard and fast and unrestrained and everything Carrie had ever imagined. More than Carrie had ever imagined. Flynn’s intensity hit her like a truck, but for once she wasn’t one to complain. She gave as good as she got, all that built up longing releasing itself in one fell swoop. Carrie Wilson was kissing Flynn Taylor and it was the most incredible thing she’d ever felt.

The call of, “Cut!” broke them apart. For a moment, Carrie looked into Flynn’s eyes, trying to read what was written in them, but it was useless. Her hands were still on Flynn’s waist, but she let go, and a moment later felt Flynn’s hands untangle from her hair.

They did the scene again and Carrie cursed herself for not foreseeing this massive issue. They never did one-take scenes, everything was gone over time and time again. She wasn’t kissing Flynn just once that day; she was reliving it over and over, and every kiss was better than the last as they got more acquainted with each other, figured things out, became less messy but kept all of the passion. It was a change of pace, but Carrie was handling it.

Until she messed up her lines in the worst possible way.

It was supposed to be, “Yeah. I love you, Kai.”

Carrie said, “I love you, Flynn.”

The director picked up on her mistake immediately and was good-natured about it as he made them take the scene from the top. Flynn said nothing, just laughed it off, mentioned that Carrie must be getting a little tired, all that kissing really taking it out of her. Everyone was fine with it and it didn’t happen again, but Carrie was mortified. She knew that those words had held all the sincerity it was impossible to fake, even with years of acting experience under her belt. She knew she had sounded honest in a way she never could have pretended to be. She knew that it was probably the take they would use, editing her use of Flynn’s name to Kai. And it felt like the biggest mistake of her life.

As soon as she was cleared to leave set, she all but legged it out of the room and back to her trailer where Alex was still waiting for her. She sat down beside him, head on his shoulder, and she cried.

The worst part was that she was no longer certain whether she was any good at pretending not to be in love with Flynn.

Promos and trailers for the show gradually released over the next few weeks. Carrie avoided social media as often as she could – it hadn’t taken people long to figure out that she would be Flynn’s love interest, and she simply couldn’t handle their reactions.

Some comments she had seen were harmless, related only to the show. ‘Monikai for life’ seemed to be a common one, as well as ‘she better treat my girl Kai with the respect she deserves’ or some form of ‘I swear they look literally perfect for each other’. Those comments were the kind Carrie could get along with. She liked a few posts, teasing just enough to get speculation up, but not enough to confirm anything.

Then there were different comments. Comments that weren’t about Monica and Kai, but instead about Carrie and Flynn. ‘Oh my god, I have been waiting for these two to play girlfriends forever’ seemed to crop up a lot. If it wasn’t that it was ‘we are finally going to see Carrie and Flynn kiss!’ and sometimes it was the worst comments like ‘they should date in real life’.

Everything about it made Carrie feel bad. For one thing, she hated people saying things like that about her private life – she might have been famous, but she was still a human being, and these people didn’t know her, so nothing gave them the right to talk about her and Flynn like that. But also, it was a constant painful reminder of what she didn’t have, and that was too much for her to process.

She had hardly spoken to Flynn since the wrap party despite Flynn messaging her every day. She was ashamed of her slip up and terrified that if she spoke to Flynn the same thing would happen again. Now that those words were out there, she didn’t think she’d be able to rein them back in ever again.

So Carrie was scared. Scared that she had ruined everything with Flynn, scared people would figure out how she really felt, scared that this was something she couldn’t bounce back from.

And she lashed out.

Admittedly, she knew could have handled the situation better. She could have ignored all the rumours and comments, stuck to one side of the fanbase, been proud of what she and Flynn had created. But she didn’t do any of that. There was one thing she knew she was still good at, and that was acting as if she hated Flynn Taylor. It had seemed like a good idea at the time – reveal to everyone that she hated Flynn to get them off her back. If she had thought it through for more than a second, she wouldn’t have done it, but one night something inside her broke and she let it all out.

She had reverted back to old habits and written a load of unsavoury tweets about Flynn, saying she hated her and couldn’t imagine anything worse than dating her, telling everyone that the idea of them being in a relationship was really creeping her out and she wanted nothing to do with it. She had posted them all before she could think any more about it, but the regret had been instant, as had the furious messages from her PR team and agent, the thousands of unfollows, the way people immediately tried to cancel her, and the way all of Flynn’s attempts to contact her stopped after those hateful words had been said. She deleted the tweets, but they’d already been screenshotted many a time, so it didn’t do much good.

The only surprise that came from it was a follow-up tweet from Flynn reading: You guys don’t need to cancel Carrie. It’s not as if I’m upset. I’d only be upset if I liked her, which I never have done.

Somehow, she had managed to ruin everything, just with a slip of the tongue.

The night of the season premier, Carrie got a knock on her door. That in itself was weird – she hadn’t invited anyone over, planning on spending the night alone, not even necessarily watching the show she’d worked so hard on, and none of her friends were really the type to just show up unannounced.

Well, none of them except–

“Willie,” she greeted with a smile when she opened the door. He stood on the threshold with his skateboard tucked under his arm, helmet lopsided on his head, and a smile on his face that looked half genuine and half like he was up to something. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come and watch the premier with you,” he said, inviting himself in and removing his helmet, hanging it on a coat hook as he propped his skateboard up against the wall. “Wouldn’t want you to be lonely for something as huge as this, right?”

“Okay,” she said, unconvinced, “and what’s your ulterior motive?”

Willie knew better than to argue. He frowned slightly and said, “Flynn told me what you said and that you’re not talking to her now, Alex told me that you totally freaked out – like freaked out, freaked out – and then went all despondent and sad, and I wanted to see if I could help. Maybe, you know, talk some sense into you.”

She rolled her eyes, leading Willie into the living room and sitting on the couch with him. “I’m not ignoring Flynn, I didn’t freak out, and I’ve got plenty of sense in me, thank you very much.”

Willie raised an eyebrow. “Sense? Or denial?”

She didn’t reply.

“Carrie,” he said, shuffling closer, “listen to me, okay? That day, when you said to Flynn that you love her, you ran to Alex while she ran to me. She was a total mess, telling me she had no idea if you had meant it or if you’d really just messed up. She said she wanted to talk to you, and after that day she said she kept trying but you wouldn’t pick up and she thought she had done something wrong. And then all those tweets… Carrie, what’s going on?”

She sighed, threw her head back to try and tip the tears welling in her eyes back into her skull, and then turned back to Willie.

“I meant it,” she breathed. “When I told Flynn I love her, I meant it. But she doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Yes she–”

“No,” Carrie said firmly. “She doesn’t. I shouldn’t have said it, I shouldn’t have lost myself like that. I should have had some freaking restraint. And now that I’ve told her, she’s going to hate me because I will have made her uncomfortable and she won’t want to be around me anymore. I’ve ruined it, Willie. And the tweets were a stupid idea, even I know that. I was scared, which is a terrible excuse, I know. I thought people were figuring out how I really felt so I… god, I’m such an idiot. I never should have done it. And now I know she hates me, she said so herself.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Willie said softly, shaking his head.

Carrie just raised an eyebrow.

“Look, I’m… I’m not going to make you talk about it tonight if you really don’t want to,” Willie said. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing a little. “But you’ve got to promise me you’ll talk to Flynn. Just to explain yourself. No matter which way your conversation goes, I really don’t think you’ll regret it.”

Carrie just hummed, not willing to provide an actual answer, and flicked the TV on, putting on the season premier of their show. She and Willie settled down together and watched. If Carrie teared up a little watching her first interaction with Flynn, Willie was kind enough not to mention it.

Eventually, Carrie took Willie’s advice, more because she missed Flynn than anything else. And in any case, she felt she owed Flynn an apology and an explanation. She had been awful to her in a way she hadn’t since they were teenagers, and she was ashamed and guilty and just wanted things to go back to some semblance of normal. On the night the season finale aired, Carrie drove to Flynn’s house and knocked on the door before she could change her mind.

“Oh,” Flynn said when she opened the door. Carrie couldn’t read her expression but fought down the panic that arose. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” she asked, hating how cliché it sounded, but that didn’t matter when Flynn nodded and opened the door wider, letting her in.

They settled together on the couch in front of Flynn’s television. It was set to the channel their show aired on, but it hadn’t started yet. When Flynn didn’t say a word, Carrie took that as her cue to start the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“Go on,” Flynn encouraged, sounding unimpressed.

“I’m sorry for everything I said about you online,” she continued, doing her best to look Flynn in the eye when all she wanted to do was look away. “I didn’t mean any of it. You’re such an amazing person and one of my best friends and I can’t believe I let myself do things that would jeopardise that. None of it was true, anyway. I just… I got scared.”

“Scared of what?” Flynn pressed, voice slightly softer than it had been a moment before. Carrie hoped she hadn’t imagined Flynn scooting ever so slightly closer to her on the couch.

She took a deep rattling breath. She had come there that night having promised herself that she would be completely honest with Flynn because she owed her that much. Well, now was the point when she needed to be honest and it was the most terrifying prospect she’d ever faced.

“Scared of people working out how right they are about me,” she admitted. “I saw people saying that we… that we would be good together as a couple in real life. And it hit too close to home because I’ve always thought that exact same thing, but I’ve never been able to do anything about it.”

“What are you saying?” Flynn breathed.

“I’m saying… I meant what I said on set. It wasn’t me slipping up, it was genuine. I couldn’t hold it back that day.”

“You mean when you said ‘I love you’?” Flynn asked slowly.

“Yeah,” Carrie said. “I meant it when I said that I love you. I love you, Flynn, I really do.”

Flynn was silent for far too long. Carrie felt her heart sinking, knowing she had made a mess of this, that they would never be able to return from this, that Flynn probably wanted nothing to do with her now, despite what Alex and Willie seemed to think about the whole thing. She prepared herself for the shouting, the accusations, the breaking off of their friendship.

But then Flynn said, “You shouldn’t have run out of set that day.”

“I know, I know, I should have explained myself and apologised there and th–”

“No,” Flynn interrupted. “You should have stayed so that I had the chance to say it back.”

“So you… what?”

Flynn’s hands, soft and gentle, came up to cradle Carrie’s face. She felt Flynn run the pad of her thumbs deftly over Carrie’s cheeks, looked deep into her gorgeous brown eyes and lost herself in them. When Flynn said, “I want to say it back,” Carrie was so up in her own thoughts that she almost forgot what they were even talking about.

“Then say it,” she returned, leaning into Flynn’s touch.

“I love you, Carrie.”

“God, I love you too.”

They kissed again, leaning forward to meet each other, and it was like their first kiss all over again. This one wasn’t tinged with the bittersweet sting that their on-screen ones had been, but rather peppered with the joy they shared having finally revealed their truth to one another. It was a ‘thank you’, a ‘sorry’, an ‘I love you’, a ‘you are it for me’ all in one go, made of love and care and everything good in the world. Carrie lost herself in Flynn – she thought that would never stop happening – and it made her feel free.

Here was another thing she was good at: loving Flynn and showing it to her.

At some point, long after they had broken their kiss, instead curling up together on the couch to watch their show, Flynn snickered and said, “You know, our agent told me that our little spat online had done wonders for the show’s publicity.”

“Where are you going with this?” Carrie asked, smirking, knowing that Flynn wasn’t just dropping that out of nowhere.

She shrugged. “I think we could do our bit to help out with ratings. For a while it might be a good idea to keep the act up, you know? Act like we hate each other and watch everyone freak out over it. And if it’s super funny for us then that’s just a bonus.”

“Fine, on one condition,” Carrie said. Flynn nodded. “We don’t tell Alex and Willie what we’re doing. They’ve been laughing at our stupidity for years, I think we deserve a little revenge.”

“I love the way you think,” Flynn laughed, leaning up to kiss Carrie again. “I love you. But as far as anyone else is concerned, no I don’t.”

Pressing another kiss to the side of Flynn’s head, Carrie said teasingly, “I don’t either.”

(Alex and Willie were not best pleased when they found out three months later that Carrie and Flynn were not in fact mortal enemies but girlfriends when the girls asked them for help moving all of Flynn’s stuff into Carrie’s house because they’d decided they wanted to live together. They’d been given the silent treatment the entire time, but it was worth it.)

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @boggie-brainrot @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @ghostlydahlia @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright @sylphrenas @callmeontheleyline

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hotdamnhunnam · 4 years

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If You Want to Be Naughty

A/N: Here’s some naughty Ray smut in response to a couple of requests that I got! And the title is another quote from Raymond, just like Stop Fucking Around, Cunt – this fic can be read as a sequel to that, so I’d recommend reading it first, if you haven’t yet!

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, teasing, edging, punishment, dom!Raymond Requests: Two separate anon requests – (1) Ray as a sensual dom making you go crazy with barely there touches; (2) catching you touching yourself without permission, then won’t let you cum for days as punishment.

Word Count: ~2.2k

Ever since Raymond learned just how much you get off on him calling you cunt... well, he hasn’t exactly been shy about giving you just what you want. It’s been months, since you made your confession, but none of the fun has gone from it. Not yet. It’s still such a damn thrill, just like when it first started.

Ray will never pass up any chance to get you soaking wet—make you moan, come undone. Remind you that you’re his fucking cunt. Often playfully whispers the word in your ear when he’s waking you up in the morning. Or comes up behind you when you’re in the kitchen cooking up a storm, wraps his big arms around you all gentle and warm, before reaching his hand up your skirt without warning.

“Love, that looks delicious,” he’ll pour on the compliments, watching as you put the finishing touches on his favorite dishes. “But not as delicious as this little cunt.”

“Ray...!” you’ll say, pretending to protest, though you love all the games that he plays. You serve up a sumptuous feast for your man once a week, so you take it quite seriously; Ray’s the chef every other day. You both prefer it that way. “We should really have this while it’s hot—”

“That’s what I thought,” he’ll huff, tugging hard at the strings of the cute little apron you’re wearing, a present he recently bought. Unraveling you like a present yourself now as he takes it off. “Have it while it’s hot. Have I told you yet today that you look hot as fuck, you saucy little cunt? Forget about supper and bend the fuck over. Now, love.”

Ray takes you all at once, rough and soft. Always finding new spots to hit, new ways to get you off. God, you don’t know how he does it. You don’t ever want him to stop.

The two of you would probably fuck 24/7, if you weren’t so focused on your own prestigious profession, and him on his... job. You’ve never been a fan of the business he’s in, but you’ve come to accept it, even when it keeps him away for longer than you’d want.

The one thing that’s been hard to accept is the fact that whenever he’s gone... you are strictly prohibited from having any fun. Ray makes it clear that your whole body—and especially your cunt—belong to him, and him alone, so in his absence you are not allowed to cum.

You’re well aware of that commandment, tonight as you lie all alone in your bedroom. Yet your naughty fingers just can’t help but wander, as you start to wonder... how much longer till he gets home...?

Ray is running much later than usual now and your patience is running low. What if you squeeze in a quick session? How would he even know? Last time you tried doing something so dumb, he had noticed the second he walked in the room, and had taught you one hell of a lesson. The lesson had been fucking fun, though. If Ray really wants to discourage behavior like this, maybe he should think twice about how much you love getting punished...

Just the thought alone gets you all wet, and the patter of rain on the window pane definitely doesn’t help. Ugh, fuck this. Where you lie in bed, needy and naked, thoughts of your beautiful bespectacled boyfriend buzzing through your head... you decide disobedience just might be worth it. The pleasure is well worth the price. And the price in itself is a prize. So you let go and close your eyes, letting your hand slowly slide toward the wetness between your thighs...

Barely two minutes have gone by, when you suddenly hear a voice from the doorway so dominant you could just die. “Well, now—surprise, surprise.”

“Ray...!” you exclaim, jolting under the covers so hard that you rattle the bed frame. How the hell did he not make a sound when he entered the house?! You should not have forgotten this man has the strength of a lion, the stealth of a mouse. “Fuck—Ray, what...”

Raymond interrupts, sharp and abrupt, as he pushes his glasses up. Stares at your face as you redden with shame. “Now what gives you the right to address me by name, you dirty disobedient slut?”

Those words off of his luscious pink lips make you fucking combust. “Shit... Ray, I’m sorry, I just—”

He steps into the room with a shake of his head and a click of his tongue. “There you go again. Using my name in vain. What do you call me, cunt? What do you say, when you’re being a good little girl who knows how to obey?”

“S-sir,” you stutter, your heart all aflutter. “I’m so sorry, sir...”

“Yes, that’s better.” He strips off his coat as he enters, and then his equally expensive vest, speaking in one slow extended sentence as he gets undressed, neatly folding each item of clothing and setting them down on the dresser. “But I must say I wonder... if you remember... the last time you failed to obey an order... what did I say would happen, if you ever did it again? Touch yourself without my permission? Now, what part of that simple command did you not understand?”

Oh God—you want to respond, but you can’t. You honestly cannot. You just watch him undress in silence, unable to fathom how you are so blessed to be with such a glorious god of a man.

“You know what I think, cunt?” he taunts, as he slowly unbuttons his shirt with his masterful hands. “I think you’re just a glutton for punishment. Reckon it’s just what you want.”

Finally you summon words to answer. There’s no denying that he guessed correctly, the goddamn bastard. “Guilty, sir.”

Raymond smirks, fierce blue eyes piercing you to the core. “Filthy whore.”

You’re officially wetter than ever, your whole body trembling under the covers. Sometimes you wish Ray would just stop being such an incredible lover. His effortless dominance turns you on so much it hurts, and of course, the fact that you’re forbidden from coming makes matters a million times worse.

Shirtless now, glasses perfectly perched just beneath his brow, Raymond slowly approaches the foot of the bed. “Now the last time I punished you... what kind of pain did I put you through?”

That’s not something you’d ever forget. “Spanking, sir. Slapped my slutty ass over and over again, and it hurt for days afterward, sir. Just the way I deserved.”

“Right, and you took it all like a good little girl,” he proudly remembers, and the brief words of praise make your toes curl. “So then once we were done with that session of punishment... I treated you to what you desperately needed: my big fucking cock in your soaking wet cunt... and allowed you to cum, in the end.”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper. “I thank you for that, sir.”

He snickers at just how pathetic you sound when you answer. “You see, I can be a magnanimous, merciful master. But I will not stand for a second offense. Twice you’ve broken the same command now, and this time around... well, the punishment’s bound to be different.”

No fucking doubt. You’re downright terrified, and... distinctly aroused.

“What use is it hiding beneath the sheets, cunt?” Raymond taunts, slick tongue gleaming provocatively between his pearly teeth. “Nothing there that I’ve not seen already. Nothing that doesn’t belong to me.”

“Yes, sir—I’m sorry,” you weakly reply, meekly setting the covers aside. You can feel the blush rise to your face, now as you bare yourself to his gaze, to the raw power that radiates from his eyes as he fucking devours the sight.

Ray’s blue eyes are aglow and ablaze, as they roam all across your body. Settling on the shame between your parted thighs. “Look at you, cunt. So dirty. So slutty. Your punishment now is that I won’t allow you to cum for days. See, if you want to be naughty... then this is the price. I am done playing nice.”

“Fuck—sir, please...” you cry out as he climbs on the bed, grabbing hold of your knees, holding them far apart forcefully.

“Shut up, cunt,” Raymond snarls. “Shut up and stay still, while I take what I want. Be a good little girl.”

He leans close till his mouth is mere inches away from your sex, and you don’t dare look down, as you’re certain to cum just from seeing that gorgeous face resting in place right between your legs. Fuck, you shudder to think at what’s coming up next...

But you don’t have to think anymore. For Ray proceeds to let you know exactly what’s in store. “Now I’m going to tease you... and please you... till it turns to pain. Bring you right to the edge... and deny you the privilege. Put you through fucking torturous pleasure... until you remember... just who you belong to. And never forget it again.”

Oh God—you never forgot. You have known all along, you belong to him and him alone, as your painfully beautiful, powerful dom. But what you’d done was wrong. You deserve to be punished, like this, to show him that you know how to listen. To take everything that he gives; it’s the reason you live. And to not cum, till he grants permission.

You keep your eyes shut as you feel his face move in closer toward your cunt, coming dangerously near... and then... fuck—that damn beard. He knows just what he’s doing, as he always does. The soft bristly fuzz on his chin brushes over your skin, at the uppermost part of your inner thigh soaked in the slick of your sin, and it’s so fucking sensuous, you cannot even...

“Mmm, bet that feels like heaven,” your master sadistically taunts. “Doesn’t it, cunt. Hold on. I can feel you struggling not to cum. We’ve only just begun.”

Ray then spends the next few hours—literally, hours—teasing and torturing every damn inch of your body, for being so naughty. It’s such an intense show of power, the way that he dominates you so fully when he’s moving so softly. Each touch is so delicate. Expertly working your every nerve ending, the blur between pain and pleasure so excruciating it’s exquisite, electric and honestly elegant. Far beyond anything that you had ever imagined. As sex always is, with Raymond.

His presence is everywhere, yet barely even there. Driving you mad from each sweep of his hair, to each flick of his tongue, to each breath from his lungs, to each swipe of his finger, so fleeting and yet so fulfilling the way that the feeling deliciously lingers. He teases every inch of your thighs, moving up all across your torso, toward your breasts, controlling every beat of the heart in your chest. But nowhere more so than your throbbing wet cunt. For better or worse, as it feels like you’re going to burst, that is where most of his time is spent.

You fear you might cum any second, but will yourself to abide by his command. For as long as you can, even if it’s more than you can stand...

“Such a good little cunt,” he grunts, lovingly lapping your sensitive clit with his talented tongue. “Look at you taking your punishment. You taste so fucking sweet when you’re obedient. Giving me just what I want.”

There are no words to even respond...

But then next thing you know, the sensation of Raymond all over your body is suddenly gone; you feel him flop down next to you on his side of the bed, resting his pretty head on his pillow. Um, hello—what the actual hell, though?

Before you can say anything, he leans in toward you for a sensual kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “You did so well, Y/N. Fucking amazing. Congratu-fucking-lations.”

You blink up at him, breathless and numb. “What, we’re done?”

“Of course we are, love...” he assures you, his husky voice tender and soft. But then winks in a way that is ruthlessly rough. “Good and done... with day one.”

...oh. How could you have forgotten just what he had threatened as punishment? How could you have been so impossibly dumb?

Raymond lets out a low playful chuckle, engulfing you in his embrace for a night full of snuggles. His love and affection are so fucking precious it almost provides a distraction from the painful fact that you’ll have to wait days till he gives you permission to cum. Almost... though honestly, not even close.

Ugh, these next few days are going to be hell. But Ray’s going to have so much fun. And as painful as it’s bound to be, you won’t try to deny that you love it as well.

He can tell. Knows that with him, you’ll savor any form of punishment. Raymond putting you through hell is fucking heaven. Always has been. Holding you more closely in his arms, cozy and warm, he smiles and kisses you again. “Told you we’ve only just begun. Plenty more days to come. You know that’s what you get, and what you want... for being such a naughty little cunt.”

***************

Hope you enjoyed this! As always, would love to hear if you did 🤗❤️

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moriarty-bibliotheca · 3 years

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—✧ ❝𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞❞ ✉

— 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ✉

𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔: 「 Hello, miss bibliothecary! I have a story request for you, may I ask for a Sherlock x fem reader x William full fic story? It can be made or are which ever you choose. So the idea I hav is that (Y/N) is a waiter who was at the wrong place at the time and murder happens at the manor she's catering for. William knows of her because she sees him time to time on the street near the college. While she knows of Sherlock cause they're neighbor!? Which man can steal her heart durring this.) Thank you!

❝ 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 , 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐬 ❞

— 𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

— 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

— 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗲 𝟱, 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟱

— 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱!

☎ 𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: oh my~ what an interesting request, i’d be more than happy to fulfill this for you, my dear! the way that i would write how Y/N does her catering is similar to my experience! i hope this is to your liking, now go ahead and check out the story!

The bright lights on the chandelier illuminated the party hall as the invited guests entertained themselves with a conversation with their fellow nobility, Y/N was standing at the corner of the room wearing her usual servant dress. She recently served a few drinks to the ones who requested it, she held the tray firmly before leaving the room and heading to the kitchen.

She let out a soft sigh as she fixed her white apron and her cap, she placed the tray on the kitchen counter and stood beside a fellow waitress. She grabbed a clean towel to continue polishing the silverware that the guests will be using for dinner at a later time, she was feeling a little exhausted from all the catering services she had to do for the past few days, but she wasn’t complaining and thought that she should be grateful that she has a job.

A few minutes later, she had completed her task of polishing all the silverware. She faced the huge window by the kitchen, this baron’s house was humongous, she shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. She walked closer to the window, the pale moonlight illuminated the dark streets of London. If only life would be greater, she would have enjoyed the way she lives her life without being harassed by a majority of the nobility.

“Enjoying the view?” asked a voice as beautiful as the moon high up in the sky, she nodded without acknowledging who the voice belongs to. “I must say you’re quite occupied,” said the person, “I apologize for disturbing your time, miss.” Y/N’s attention was on this person now, she turned her head to identify who the speaker is, only to see a man of nobility that she has known in a while; William James Moriarty.

“Professor Moriarty,” spoke the female as she gave him a polite curtesy, “I apologize, I did not know it was you, how can I be of service to you?” She had recognized this man for she has seen him quite a few times around London and the university that was located in Durham. She had never spoken to this man face-to-face, but they did greet each other with a smile every time they have walked past each other.

“I’m doing fine, Miss L/N,” said the male, “no need to worry. I am only walking around,” his voice was as melodic as her favorite musical piece, she had to admit that hearing the younger earl’s voice for the first time is quite relaxing. She gave the man a nod as she bowed at him one last time before excusing herself to go back to work, the hint of redness on her cheeks was certainly evident and she didn’t want to embarrass herself any further.

“Did the earl need something, Y/N?” asked a co-worker, the lass shook her head as she tried to calm her beating heart and slight reddened cheeks, she did not know what was happening to her and it felt so sudden to react like this to someone she doesn’t even know much, she shook her head to herself and started preparing the utensils for dinner that will occur within 30 minutes.

Minutes have passed and everything was prepared, a huge variety of meals were neatly placed on the long table with serving utensils right beside each container; there were hot dishes, cold dishes, salads, and of course, desserts. The headwaiter let out a sigh of relief and looked at his fellow co-workers, he gave them a huge smile followed by a thumbs up and said, “another job well done!”

It was time for dinner to start, Y/N and her fellow co-workers immediately retreated to the kitchen and cleaned up the area before taking a short rest. The night had been peaceful all the while and thank the Gods that the invited guests and the host of the party weren’t as rude as the previous ones that they have worked for.

But, was the night really peaceful?

A scream was heard nearby the dining hall, Y/N and her fellow co-workers immediately jumped out of their seats and ran to the place where they heard the scream with the other guests in the dining room coming out of the hall to see the commotion, and to their horror, the discovery they made was gut-wrenching and shocking.

Laid there on the red carpet of the halls was a nobleman, definitely one of the guests as Y/N remembered his face, he laid there on his own pool of blood, lifeless and still. The first one who had discovered it first and alarmed everyone with a scream was a woman, perhaps she had come across this dead man as she left the dining room.

The woman let out a sob as she ran towards a man that was undoubtedly her husband, the lady will surely be scarred upon discovering a dead body, what’s worse is that she might get suspected even if she may be innocent. “What happened?” questioned the headwaiter silently, he was talking to his co-workers in disbelief, the rest of the waiting staff did not answer for they were in quite the shock as well.

“My, how unfortunate,” said William, and he was right, how unfortunate for this man to die at a dinner party as glorious as this one. Another man moved away from the crowd and kneeled next to the dead man to examine his injuries. Why, this man was Sherlock! Y/N’s eyes widened as she recognized this man, he was living right next door and they have interacted a few times. He is quite an intelligent man, she admits.

It seems the male sensed she was looking at him for he averted his gaze towards Y/N and locked eyes with her for a few seconds, he waved at her and she greeted him back with a wave before he continued on with the investigation. “The yard should be here soon, please get back to your seats,” informed the head butler of the household, the guests immediately walked away from the scene and continued on where they’ve left off.

The rest of the waiting staff walked away as well and went back to the kitchen, “Y/N!” yelled Sherlock, making the maiden turn around to look at him, he gave her another wave before running towards her, “mind helping me out?” Y/N was definitely surprised at his odd request, but agreed to help him anyway, she walked towards the dead body as Sherlock chased another person across the room.

“Hey,” yelled out Sherlock, “Liam!” The male turned around right after hearing his name— Sherlock’s nickname for him, to be exact. The second Moriarty gave him a small smile and a simple greeting, “Holmes, I see you’re planning to investigate the murder.” Y/N observed them with a little shock, she wasn’t honestly expecting these two to know each other, but she always thought these two were fairly similar and are, no doubt, geniuses.

“I am!” cheered Sherlock as he rubbed the back of his neck, "wanna make a bet on which one of us catches the culprit first?” Y/N was surprised to hear this, are they treating this like a game? The second Moriarty let out a chuckle, “quite like what happened on the train.” Sherlock looked amused as he gave him a nod and continued on with their short conversation, the two males in equal standing height walked towards the direction of the dead body, right where Y/N was kneeling.

She wishes not to admit this, but she’s starting to feel a little shy. She will be accompanying two men with one of them apart of the nobility, who’s to say this investigation won’t be quite awkward with a maiden like her to tag along? As curious as the lass is, she wanted to know why did Sherlock ask for her help, that was a little odd of him and she knows she is nowhere near their intellectual level to be able to help them solve this case.

“L/N,” greeted Moriarty, “I assume you’re here to help?” The maiden nodded at him, “I guess you could say that.” She was definitely uncertain on why she’s here, she wasn’t even sure if she can do anything to help them. “It seems he was stabbed,” said Sherlock as the three of them continued observing. “Stabbed at least 10 times,” added William as he and Sherlock examined the body, Y/N quietly glanced at the two of them and her eyes landed on Sherlock.

The amount of times they’ve seen each other was countless, it wasn’t that rare since he lives next door with his roommate in Miss Hudson’s apartment. Those short meetings always included short conversations and people could tell they were friends, to say the least. The short conversations Y/N had with Sherlock was interesting, it was always fun for the maiden to hear some random facts that the male found out during his experiments and some sort.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to seeing Sherlock so often, Y/N’s gaze stayed on Sherlock as he observed the crime scene and made some deductions while talking to William. The way his eyes would lit up when William makes a deduction that perfectly fits what he was thinking, the way he looks when he stayed focused and was dedicated to his thoughts alone, it was like he shouldn’t be disturbed.

Y/N started to feel like a creep the longer she observes Sherlock instead of the crime scene to help them, she shook her head and broke her concentrated gaze on the detective. She was starting to think she might be ill, her heartbeat starts to get quicker and her cheeks were a hint of red, her palms were a little sweaty and she was nervous, similar to how she reacted during her encounter with William earlier.

“Are you alright?” asked Moriarty, he had noticed the redness of her cheeks and wondered if she was sick or feeling nervous around them. The maiden nodded, “I — I’m fine,” spoke Y/N as she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. “If you’re feeling ill,” said Moriarty as he kneeled in front of her, “we can escort you to a room until you feel better.”

There it was again, the heat on her cheeks grew as it got redder, her heartbeat quickened as she tried to process what was happening, she immediately shook her head and dismissed the offer, she thanked him for the concern and told him that she could manage. She avoided eye contact as they continued on with the investigation, she gave a few statements here and there that would certainly help the problem progress further until they have arrived to a conclusion.

As soon as they had enough clues, the two decided to split up for their bet was still present, they definitely weren’t joking. “Wait,” said Y/N, “you two were serious about the bet?” She seemed to be in total disbelief, were they really treating this as a game? She wished she could understand the fun that they are experiencing just by solving cases and living as a genius. “Why, yes,” said Sherlock, “and you’ll be the final judge to see who catches and arrests the culprit first.”

“Me?” questioned the female as Sherlock nodded and waved at her, he and William split up and went on their own ways whilst Y/N stayed with the Scotland Yard and had a short conversation with Lestrade.

A minute or two had passed and the two gentlemen had appeared at the same time, they both had a few people with them that could be the potential killer. As the two continued to explain their reasons and logic, Y/N and the yard listened attentively and whether they’d admit it or not, these two were pretty impressive.

After a few minutes of deductive reasoning, the main culprit turned out to be one of the servants in the household, the culprit tried to explain that he did it out of loyalty for his master, but that did not change anything and he was arrested. Sherlock let out a yawn as he stretched his arms, “I guess we both caught the culprit together.”

William nodded as he looked at Sherlock, “that doesn’t mean our bet is settled.” His scarlet eyes then averted towards the female as she stood there, completely clueless about this “bet” that they were talking about. “What is it?” asked Y/N as she noticed the two of them were looking at her, the two gents gave her a smile as her cheeks turned pink.

“Winner of our bet gets to ask you out,” said William and this made the lady’s heart beat even faster, “but the both of us ended up winning, so you get to choose.” Choose? My, this is a tough decision, Y/N wasn’t even certain if she has feelings for one of them, despite the fact that she was experiencing weird symptoms every time she speaks to them.

Well, should she choose William; the young professor of mathematics with such beautiful scarlet eyes that seemed to hold the darkest secrets or should she choose Sherlock; the consulting detective that lives right next door with whom she had interacted quite a few times now.

☎ 𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆: this is quite long and it took me a day and a half to finish this, let me know if there are errors! i seemed to have gather a lot of motivation in the middle of the night even if i am tired. setting that aside, i hope you enjoyed! sorry if this was nowhere near your expectations, let me know if you want me to do alternate endings for this! come visit the bibliotheca again, darling!

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khaotic-kitsunes · 3 years

Text

Alleyways

...I have absolutely no regrets over this. None what-so-ever and neither should anyone else because this glorious scenario was freaking fun to write. Probably even better to read, I dunno, I can never read a scenario that I’ve written again until I’ve forgotten it completely. Otherwise I start to remember the words a second before I read them and honestly it’s infuriating.

Anyways~

I hope you like the Dabi dose of today and again, sorry about the mishap! One was put in drafts by accident and this one I just forgot to press the post button until I went back to my tumblr tab to scroll through my dashboard...hahah

Whoopsie?

🥃 AO3 🥃

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

“Hey there, little cutie…what’re you doing with a guy like that huh? Why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you what a real Alpha is like!”

Dabi let out a low growl of displeasure from beside you as you walked through the dimly lit street together, his arm wrapped around your waist and keeping you close to his side; allowing you to soak up the warmth his quirk allowed him to produce.

“You’re letting them get to you…” You trailed off softly, peeking up at your grouchy boyfriend when you felt his fingers dig into your waist and while it wasn’t painful, it certainly brought you no joy to see how upset he was getting over a few drunken morons cat-calling you.

“Drop. It.” The words came out as an angry snarl of annoyance, not necessarily directed at you; yet at the same time, you felt the effects of your Alpha’s displeasure, a low whine spilling past your lips that still showed signs of a faint bruise. It was from Dabi’s most recent rut; he had gotten a little carried away with you and bit harder than usual. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.

“Don’t whine at me, (Name). You know I hate walking around here with you” He spared you a quick glance, his brows furrowing when he noticed how displeased you looked with his current mood; earning a quiet click of his teeth. An upset Omega was never good, even he knew that much.

“So, what? I’m the problem?” His eyes widened partially at your whimpered-out question, a string of uttered curses escaping him before he stopped walking to face you properly, calloused and scarred hands gripping your arms tightly.

“Oi! That isn’t what I meant, stupid little…” He trailed off into a growl before loosening his grip on your arms, his shoulders slumping as he let go of his anger at the people that tried to take you from him; he needed to be calm to deal with you. Both of you knew that.

“I don’t like sharing you with everyone. You’re mine. Those assholes are lucky I don’t murder them for even looking at you!” His possessive growl calmed you almost instantly, a soft snicker escaping you and while the noise settled Dabi’s fear of having to deal with an emotional Omega; he didn’t appreciate your laughter.

“Think this is funny? Little shit” He scowled, reaching up to pinch your cheek, pulling firmly until you let out a noise of discomfort; resulting in him releasing you and moving back beside you, his arm returning to its’ place around your waist. Keeping you close.

“…Hey, hey, if you’re getting so wound up about this, then that must mean you love me. Right? Alpha?” Your questioned received a grunt in response, the two of you slowly making your way through the almost empty street; the few people that were around, staring directly at you with looks you recognised from before Dabi had claimed you as his Omega.

“If even a single one of those fuckers says anything to you, fucking anything, I’ll burn them alive…”

You snapped your head up quickly at his words, surprised at the vicious promise behind them; your Alpha was a strange one. He wasn’t overly kind, nor was he a good person, but you found that he took good care of you, as best he could really and every time he threatened such a degree of violence; it sent shivers down your spine. You did love when your Alpha used his quirk for you, there was nothing better in your mind; his greatest show of love was slaughtering people that he decided weren’t good enough to even look at you.

“Alpha~” You purred out the word softly, leaning into his side heavily while your hand went to his stomach, nails dragging over his muscles through the thin white shirt he had chosen to wear for your stroll throughout the neighbourhood.

He opened his mouth to respond to you as he turned his head to look down, but the moment he looked into your eyes, the words appeared to have escaped him. Instead, they were replaced with a deep, rumble of a growl that you hadn’t heard outside of the safety of your small apartment before; a growl that meant you were about to have his knot buried inside of you.

“Seriously?” Your head bobbed up and down in confirmation the instant the question left your Alpha’s mouth, causing an eager grin to tug at the corners of his lips; it appeared as though your Alpha wasn’t against the less-than-subtle hint that you had given him.

“Such a naughty little thing you are…come on baby, you want my cock? You’re gonna fucking get it.” His words were a hushed promise as he tightened his hold on your waist, practically dragging you over to a nearby alleyway, not a care in the world that the two of you were in a public place; in fact, it almost felt like this was Dabi’s own way of telling the other Alphas where to shove their offers.

“Is that a promise, Alpha?” You squealed when Dabi dropped his hand to slap your arse roughly, causing you to stumble into the wall he was about to fuck you against, the sound echoing down the empty little spot he had chosen; a reaction he seemed to appreciate, if his hungry stare was anything to go off of.

“You know damned well that it is…now lift that fucking dress for me if you’re really that desperate for my knot” Your cheeks flushed in response to his demand, hands moving to tug at the edge of your dress; it hadn’t been the best choice for the walk, considering how cold it was currently. However, it was working out for you currently.

You jolted in surprise when you felt a weight on your shoulders, looking back to see that Dabi had dropped his jacket over your shoulders, his scent enveloping you almost instantly and causing slick to start dripping down your folds.

“Keep it on” His words were a quiet, concerned instruction while his hands went to your arse, squeezing until you spread your legs for him as best you could, giving a cheeky little wiggle until he slapped you once again; a soft noise of pleasure slipping out. Though Dabi had heard it loud and clear, the sound making him grind himself up against you through his pants; his erection made painfully clear.

“Alpha…don’t tease me? Please…” Your whimper had him chuckling while he buried his head into the crook of your neck, his hands moving from your arse to deal with his pants; adjusting them just enough so that his aching cock was free and rubbing against you. Your panties were now the only thing keeping him from fucking you senseless and in that moment, you absolutely hated yourself for wearing them. Unnecessary things that they were.

“Are you beggin’ already?”

You huffed in response, pushing yourself back against him firmly in order to show your annoyance with him; a soft squeak echoing around the area when he tore your panties away from your body, allowing him to properly rub against you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your folds, nudging and rubbing just enough to let you know he was there but certainly not enough to satisfy you and your needs.

“Dabi, come on…that isn’t fu-” His hand covered your mouth while his other arm went around your waist, pressing you further into the wall as he began to bite at your neck; the parts he could access since his jacket was partially in the way.

“Shut up. You don’t get to tell me how to fuck you, (Name). You get what you’re given and you’ll fucking take it like a good Omega” He buried himself inside of you once he made his point, causing you to arch your back, a moan of relief muffled by his warm hand; preventing anyone else from hearing the noises that your Alpha refused to share.

“That’s better…fuck, that’s it, move your hips like that baby…make your Alpha happy” Dabi groaned quiet praise into your ear while he rocked his hips, trying his best not to completely lose his control with you. As much as he wanted to do such a thing, if he were to lose control out in the open like this, it might cause problems for the both of you and Dabi preferred to avoid that kind of situation.

You whimpered into his hand, grinding your hips back against him each chance you got, the feel of his not yet inflated knot against your folds driving you insane; you knew how good his knot felt and it was hard to resist the urge to sink yourself back onto it. The only problem with that plan, being that if you did dare to do such a thing; he would punish you for it.

Dabi liked his control over you, disobeying the unspoken rules between the two of you wouldn’t end well.

“Shh, I know baby. Believe me, I know how bad you want my knot…but you need to be a good girl, otherwise your next heat is going to be a hard one”

Your entire body shuddered from the warning he gave you, muffled moans beginning to grow louder as his control began to slip, his thrusts and bites getting rougher with each passing minute that he fucked you in the alleyway. He was finding it to be an impossible task, holding back with you when your body was so inviting; welcoming every little thing he did to you.

“Shit…shit, damn it!” Dabi cursed out loudly as he began to bite at the bonding mark you wore proudly on your neck, the sensitive and bruised flesh an instinctive target for his little shows of affection; alerting you to how agitated he was beginning to get.

“Fuck it. I’ll just fucking kill anyone that tries to fuck with us when I’m stuck inside you” Dabi groaned out his resolution before removing himself from your body, quickly spinning you around to face him before suddenly, you were lifted into his arms, legs going around his waist and your back slammed up against the brick wall you had just been pressed up against; his throbbing cock buried inside of you once again.

“I want to hear you baby girl. Moan for me, scream for me!” He snarled out his demand as he pressed his face against your chest, his teeth surprisingly sharp despite the material of your dress getting in the way of his bites; making you cry out loudly from all the pleasure he was showering you with.

“Dabi…Alpha! More, I want more…please!” You whined out loudly as he continued to thrust his hips, his hands remaining on your arse so that he could keep a steady pace; though his grip was tight enough to leave you whining in need. It was times like this you loved being with someone that had no morals, your Alpha didn’t care that he was fucking you where other people could hear and smell what you were doing, the only thing he was paying attention to; was the way you felt wrapped around his aching cock.

“Fucking hell…you’re such a greedy little Omega!” Dabi groaned out a laugh, throwing his head back as he pushed his knot inside of you, your loud shout of bliss music to his ears, he would never admit it sober; but he loved your reactions to his touches.

You weren’t like other Omegas that he had fucked, you weren’t just after your own pleasure, you weren’t just an easy slut. He had to work his arse off just to get in bed with you in the beginning and when he finally managed to, well he had been shocked to find out that you could take everything he had to give.

You were his perfect match and he had kept you ever since.

“Louder baby, I want the entire block to know whose cock is making you feel this good!”

You screamed out his name in response, baring your throat to him in submission while he continued to fuck you senseless; his knot throbbing and growing bigger as time passed, signalling that your Alpha was close to finishing. Just like you were. You could feel the familiar warmth beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, the pleasure rocking through your body; it was too much, having Dabi fuck you like this with the knowledge that everyone knew what you were doing but no one would be stupid enough to interrupt the two of you.

“That’s it…close, aren’t you? Squeezing down on me like that already? Is it that good a fuck, baby? Can’t keep up tonight?” You narrowed your eyes at his groaned-out taunts, tangling your fingers into his dark locks while your orgasm got closer and closer; you weren’t in the mood for him to be a complete asshole to you and you were about to make that clear.

“Just…shut up and knot me, Dabi! I wanna go home and nest…” You whimpered out, squeezing your eyes shut tightly while giving a harsh tug to his hair, screaming out his name when your orgasm finally hit; his knot swelling up inside of you once you started to squeeze down on him even more, his hot, thick seed filling you in a sudden rush.

Dabi bit down on your bonding mark roughly, chewing on the spot while rocking his hips as best he could while stuck buried balls deep inside of you, his mind slowly processing the words you had uttered.

“Nest…? Are you going into heat baby? Fuck…don’t worry, I’ll get you home soon. You can get nice and comfy so I can fill you up even more.”

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #touya x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #reader x dabi #reader x touya #reader x todoroki #omegaverse #alpha!dabi #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #smut #requests #cheeky kitsune

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gisellelx · 3 years

Text

Daffodils

Pairing: Carlisle/Esme Word count: 1600 TW: Esme’s backstory

March 1, 1921

Carlisle was angry.

Well, not angry. Esme had to amend her understanding of that word. Charles had been angry. She remembered what anger looked like, sounded like, felt like against and within her body. If Carlisle was able to get angry, she certainly hadn’t seen it yet, and where he was now wasn’t that.

Carlisle was upset. That word better matched the draw in his brow, the tightness of his jaw. He paced his study, slowly, because the room was too small to afford him the room to move at his full speed.

Edward had come to her a week ago, in the garden, at night, the moonlight shading across both their bodies such that it made their skin seem to become a silvery shimmer. He’d sat across from her, his knees pulled to his chest, watching as she carefully put bulbs into the ground. It was still too early; the ground still likely to freeze. They were so much further north than London, the tiny rural enclave where she’d so freely swung from the branches of the huge crabapple tree in her front yard. At this time of year, the daffodils would already be starting to peek their way out from the thawing dirt, their orange and yellow-white heads cheerily greeting the tired Ohioan farmhands who were starting to prepare the fields. Her mother had always kept the beds neatly; ensuring that year after year a crop of the bright little flowers would appear just in time for St. David’s Day.

And so she was planting them, in the moonlight, knowing that it would be several weeks before they made their appearance. Like everything, it was the time which had shifted. The way her body moved so much more quickly. The way she could perch in perfect stillness on a tree branch, no longer worried about taking a fall and fracturing her leg. The way death had stolen away from her in three days of agony, and she’d awoken to the kind, concerned face of this man she had never forgotten.

Carlisle.

She’d asked his name, ten years ago. She remembered the way his brow furrowed in confusion when he’d told her. The tiny hitch in his voice when he admitted that he didn’t remember his mother. She hung onto every word, stored every flickering glance he’d given her. Even through the haze of the laudanum she’d remembered, and it had been so easy, sliding into this household with the kind doctor and the affable, but aloof, boy.

Edward had sat in the garden for a half hour, watching her dig, plant a bulb, and pat the earth back down, over and over, before he made clear his reason for coming outside.

“You have to tell him, Esme,” he said, his tone hard and frustrated and she sighed.

She didn’t want to burden Edward. He was a boy. His body had never filled out as it would have had he matured even a few years more. And even as an immortal, he was only twenty. The images that she tried valiantly to keep from her mind, lest he see them—she knew they hurt him. Charles’ hands, the way they moved when she had displeased him, so fast she didn’t even see them before she felt their impact. The constant fear. The way nothing was ever good enough—the groceries she bought, too expensive, the curtains she sewed with inexpert seams. Edward had heard the bellowing voice, felt her entire body tense at the sound of the good shoes crossing the threshold, the wool coat and hat finding their way to the hook by the door.

And what had happened over and over on the second floor, in the privacy of their bedroom—Edward had seen that, too.

“I can’t,” she told him.

“He has to know.”

She shook her head.

“Esme…he cares for you. He has to know.” The boy’s voice was hard, frustrated.

The words caught her up short. He cared for her, she knew that much. He’d taught her to hunt, and he gave her things to read. He showered her with anything she wanted; dresses, furniture, even flowers when she asked. But he was so reserved, disappearing into his study when they weren’t together.

“How will he take it,” she whispered, and Edward only shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he’d said. “But he has to know.”

So it had been three days ago, now, that she’d told Carlisle. And the gentle doctor had listened, and nodded, and gently touched her shoulder. She’d cried, the heaving tearless sobs that were now the mark of her new existence. And he’d comforted her, squeezing her shoulder, even stroking her cheek. When she felt calm, and he was certain of her security, he announced he was going to take a walk and disappeared for several hours.

And that had been that, she thought. He listened, and he absorbed her story, and it was one more thing about her that he simply took as part of her. She was grateful for the acceptance, pleased with the quiet way he’d accepted it. But it unraveled in the days after. The blond doctor withdrew. He stopped talking to her. Stopped touching her shoulder in the affectionate way he’d begun to before she’d given him the information. When she entered a room he flinched, looking away.

She felt…afraid of him, which seemed so uncharacteristic for Carlisle, the gentle man she’d met ten years ago and who had given her no reason to doubt him now. So she followed him here, to his study, where he had warmly invited her to join him anytime. He stood at once, began pacing, making her wonder if her presence was unwelcome.

He was so obviously upset.

“You’re angry with me,” she said quietly, and he became perfectly still at once. It was an eerie stillness, a stillness she was still getting used to. Carlisle was so good at human habits, and Edward only slightly less so, that when they stopped moving in the way their kind were able to, a perfect cessation of motion, not breathing, not so much as twitching—it still took her by surprise.

He shook his head. “I’m not angry with you.”

“You’ve stopped touching me.” Because she was undesirable? She supposed she deserved that.

He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Have I?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t realize.” He came to her side, seated himself on the arm of the chair. He took her hand, placing it between both of his and caressing her knuckles.

“You’re angry.”

And in a flash, he was on the other side of the room, his back against the wall.

She swallowed. This much was right. “You’re angry,” she repeated.

He shook his head. “Not with you, Esme. Never with you.”

“But you’re angry.”

He nodded, slowly, standing back up, dropping her hand and thrusting his hands into his hair. They clutched at the golden locks, squeezing frantically, intermittently as he began to pace again.

“I just… What beasts are we, men? To do this? I stopped touching you because I can’t bear the thought that my hands might feel like—”

“You could never be him,” she said quietly.

He shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

She shrank back into the chair, one of two luxurious ones he had installed in his study. For what reason, she suddenly wondered. Edward didn’t need to sit, and neither did she. Carlisle was so perfect in his charade, in the nearly three centuries of masking himself as a human, that he rarely missed these finer details which so easily could go unnoticed.

What did he mean? At once, her former husband’s face materialized in her mind. Already, as Edward and Carlisle told her it would, his visage was growing dimmer, less distinct, as though he were in a dream. He was becoming a faceless demon; her only memory his hands and his voice. But the memory of his fist was crystal clear…

Downstairs, the piano abruptly stopped.

“You could never be him,” she repeated.

And he whirled. His eyes, the glorious amber eyes she loved, flashed dark. When he spoke, his voice was high pitched and rapid. “Do you know that, Esme? Do you know that I could somehow not be him? That I don’t have it within me to hurt someone? Are you certain? Because I want to hurt him.”

The shock of his words made her flinch, and he didn’t miss it. His body lost a little of its tension. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the fist she didn’t realize he’d balled—did he know he’d done it?—released itself back flat.

“I want to hurt him so badly,” he choked. “That’s why I couldn’t be near you. I can’t let you see me this way.” His hand opened and closed again, as though it couldn’t decide what to do.

She shrank back. “Please,” she felt herself saying, and the words were old. She didn’t mean to be begging Carlisle, of all people, but the begging felt familiar. “Please don’t. Don’t be upset.”

“Esme, of course I’m upset!” he bellowed. “I love you!”

He stopped suddenly, swallowed, and staggered several steps backward

“You…” she tried to repeat the words but found they didn’t make sense.

Carlisle seemed just as surprised as he repeated the words. “I…love you.”

Esme didn’t think about what she did next. Charles had said those words to her, what? Once? Maybe twice? Enough that they were already fading? She still wasn’t used to the way her new body moved, to the fact that as Carlisle protested, she was stronger than he was, and would be for a good while. When she shoved him against the desk, it creaked and groaned under their combined weight; when she straddled him and pressed her hands against his jaw.

“I love you,” he groaned again into her lips. The desk protested further.

“I love you,” she repeated.

He placed his hands on her face, pulling her back from him so that she could look into his eyes. They were the orange gold, partway between when he’d hunted recently and when he would need to hunt immediately. She knew, now, after watching for weeks, how his eyes went from the flaxen gold, to the light yellow, to the darkness of old honeycomb before he set out to hunt again. Now they were just the right yellow; the pale color of the corona of the flower she had planted in the cold garden, weeks late.

And as she pressed her lips to his again, she realized that perhaps her daffodils had bloomed on St. David’s Day, after all.

#carlisle cullen #esme cullen #tw: domestic violence #fanfiction #twilight

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satanwithboobs · 4 years

Text

overindulgence | lucifer x mc

fandom: obey me

warnings: slight mention of nsfw content, general sadism vibes from our fave sadist

a/n: I wrote this while drunk, #sorrynotsorry. no editing was done to this trash, might be a little rough if you’re reading this before I get around to fixing any formatting issues. but I will not apologize for art.

—

>> AsmoBaby: Partying it up with everyone’s favorite human! 💕 #LivingTheDream

Lucifer knew y/n was known to let a little loose on occasion, and while he wasn’t too much of a fan of their overall methods for doing so, he knew they were responsible enough to keep their indulgences to a bare minimum.

Not to mention, they kept in constant touch with him throughout the night whenever they’d go out with his brothers, so he never worried too much.

If it weren’t for the mountain of paperwork he needed to get through, he likely would have invited himself to the little shindig. It had been far too long since he had a night off, but he wasn’t about to shirk his responsibilities (like some demons he knew), so he refrained.

>> L3V1: ROFLMAO the normie keeps texting Lucifer. Transparent much? Lololol

His brother’s post piqued his interest. While, yes, they had exchanged one or two texts, the conversation wasn’t enough to take too much of their fun away from them.

He quickly brushed the post off as his younger brother’s sin rearing its ugly head while he wallowed away in the corner of whatever scene he had been no doubt bribed into attending.

An hour and a half quickly passed as he became engrossed in his work. That is, until he felt his D.D.D. ping.

He hadn’t even noticed that Y/N had responded to his last check-in.

[01:23 a.m.] >> Y/N: Everything is great! I’m glad I can finally have a night off. I wish you could have joined, though! ❤️

He briefly felt guilty looking at the text, before his focus shifted to his more recent notifications.

[01:46 a.m.] >> Satan: I’m starting to worry about Y/N. They look like they’re about to drop.

[01:48 a.m.] >> Asmodeus: Who are you, Lucifer?! Stop being a party pooper, Satan! Do you need me to give you another quick massage to loosen up those muscles? I’d be happy to 😘

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at the mention of his name.

[01:48 a.m.] >> Asmodeus: As long as they can keep you-know-who in the dark, nothing is going to happen! I won’t let anything happen to a single beautiful hair on their head!

[01:49 a.m.] >> Leviathan: lolololol wrong chat

Levi’s comment all but confirmed that something was going on.

[01:49 a.m.] >> Lucifer: What do I need to be kept in the dark about, pray-tell?

He was already finished putting on his coat before the next text came through.

[01:50 a.m.] >> Asmodeus: Uh-oh. 😳

He was at the nightclub in record time, having avoided any trouble with the large crowds that flocked to the streets with the strength of his bloodlust alone. It was not unlike the biblical parting of the Red Sea.

He breezed past the bouncer and made his way to the VIP section he knew his younger brother frequently rented out.

As he approached, he could tell that every eye in the place was glued to him, but he didn’t care.

The sadist in him would have found immense satisfaction in the deer-in-the-headlights expression he was receiving from the three brothers he saw, but his priorities were elsewhere.

“Where. Are. They?” He demanded, but his question was answered nearly as fast as it was asked.

“I’m fine, Mammmmmmmon. You don’t have to hold me up, see? I can walk just fine on my—” their slurred reassurances were cut off as they tripped over their own feet, straight into the chest of the absolute last person in the three realms that they wished to see right now.

Their gaze slowly found its way up his torso to his chest, before it finally settled on the intense eyes of the firstborn.

“You really should be more careful...” he stopped their half-baked plan to escape his grasp in its tracks as he tightened his grip on their upper arms, likely painting a few faint bruises he was sure he’d be appreciating in the coming days.

“Someone might think you’ve overindulged,” he finished, drinking in the way the realization spread across their face.

“I didn’t..” they stammered. “I didn’t want to worry... you..”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at their frankly adorable attempt at an excuse, flashing them a smirk.

They gulped, their focus shifting to what he could only assume was the most interesting button they’d ever seen, resting somewhere on his vest.

“I’m sorry,” they mumbled, a beautiful crimson tinge spreading across their cheeks. He had to quickly stop his mind from wondering to what other parts of them he could paint that same glorious shade of red.

“That pitiful apology doesn’t even begin to make up for your indiscretions, my love,” the sinful thoughts once again began to swirl in both their minds as Y/N’s eyes widened upon realizing that this was far from over.

It was at that moment he remembered that, for as much as he sometimes wished, they were not the only two people inhabiting the world.

His focus shifted to level a harsh glare at his four younger brothers, lifting the intoxicated human up and over his shoulder with much too much ease.

“I will deal with each of you at a later hour,” he promised, a hint of a smirk evident in his steely gaze. “Prepare yourselves.”

#obey me x reader #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me #blah blah blah whatever other tags there are just imagine they’re here

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