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durrtydawg · 1 month

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Lump

{Sam Drake x F!Reader}

This is a lil love letter to those of you who feel like you’re not worthy of being loved in the same way as those in smaller bodies. Not expecting much traction on this, but it's self-indulgent and I'm just happy I wrote something. Though primarily written with chunky gals (me) in mind, I still hope this can soothe anyone who feels uncomfortable in their own skin. CW: There’s a subtle discussion of fat fetish subculture here (it is absolutely NOT glorified- Quite the opposite, in fact. No shame to those who dig that kind of thing, but it’s not my vibe which I’m sure you’ll be able to tell), so if that’s something you feel uncomfortable thinking about, pls move on. Of course, I wrote this with Sam in mind because I’m a whore, but honestly, this could just be anyone. I’m struggling big time, but this was a nice spoonful of medicine and a necessary moment of reflection. Not for everyone, but regardless, I hope you enjoy :) x

Masterlist

Sam’s hands are used to ‘rough’. To unforgiving iron bars. Crumbling stone. Splintered wood. The stippled rubber of weaponry grip. He’s got the callouses to prove it.

For a long time, it was all he knew. It was him. Rough. There was never a need for contrast.

He thought that it would demand caution. To have to sacrifice everything he’d started to reclaim and do for himself. He doesn’t want to be careful. So for a long time, he avoided anything ‘soft’.

But with her, he realised that not only did he want it, but he needed it. With her, he can indulge. With her, he’s able to grab and squeeze and tug with abandon. To soothe the soreness of his fingertips within her smooth, yielding ‘soft’.

To him, she is everything, even when she saw herself as nothing.

She’s not a reflection of glossy front covers. Nor the proportionately sculpted forms that stand sentinel in the halls of museums or the centre of fountains. She doesn’t believe it, but to him, she has always been a masterpiece unto herself.

‘A lump’, she used to call herself. A playground insult. Not harmless, but on the surface, tame. “I’m a lump compared to all these girls.”

He was cooking— the first time he heard her say it. She was perched on the counter, traipsing from one online clothing store to the next, paying more attention to the models than the outfits. He laughed. “Ridiculous,” he replied, shaking his head as the wooden spoon in his hand cut through bubbling ragu- a specialty. A comfort. Reminiscent of his mother’s existence. He held the spoon up to her lips, prying her face away from blue light with a hand stretched over her thigh.

To him, the word ‘lump’ meant discomfort. An anomaly. A flaw. A slab of something undesirable that took up space much to the disdain of others in its proximity. In his eyes she was the furthest away from any of those things he thought possible.

“Here. It’s missing somethin’.”

He lied.

He knew it was perfect. He just wanted to watch her eat. To pass his mother’s affection to her.

She hesitated, then shook her head.

He frowned, hand moving from thigh to soft jaw. “Open up f’me”, he urged, eyes narrowed.

A warm flush tinted her cheeks and eye contact broke.

For a fleeting moment, she considered whether or not there there was a deep-rooted fetish involved in his attraction to her. So she asked him if that was the case.

When he realised what she was implying, for the first time, he saw the cracks ran deeper than just a childish nickname. She was so worn down that she truly believed the only way someone could find her attractive was if they reduced her to some sort of Machiavellian fixation.

He realised that the thought had crossed his mind once before. And he hated himself for it.

He’d read about it years ago- it was featured in some dirty contraband magazine whilst he was inside. He found himself reflecting on it again after he’d gotten hard from her licking cake batter off the spoon when he’d visited her apartment for the first time. But he had come to the conclusion the whole kink thing wasn’t him. This wasn’t objectification. Control. Coercion. He’d feel the same regardless of her size.

It wasn't about the superficial aspects of her appearance or some strange fetishisation of consumption and weight, but rather about nourishing her in every sense of the word. Mind, body, soul.

She’d called herself a lump. This was merely his way of telling her that she was wrong. That she’s just as deserving of food and love and sex as anyone else.

And with that realisation, the fear that had momentarily gripped him slipped away as he swore there was nothing untoward about the way he felt about her.

He understood the depth of his feelings. For once, his words didn’t fail him, and he explained it plainly: he loved her. All of her. He’d found a sense of purpose and belonging he had never known before. He wanted her to feel cherished. Cared for. To make up for everyone who had ever done her wrong, and equally, showing that he was capable of nurturing in a way that he’d not been shown since his childhood. This was therapeutic for him.

Months later, he’d caught her crying in front of the mirror. An outfit not looking the way she wanted it to. And she did it again. Called herself a ‘lump’. This time, he didn’t laugh. She argued back at him when he told her not to call herself shit like that. That she was gorgeous just as she was. She called him a liar. Spat venom. But he kept on repeating it. That she’s beautiful. That she’s everything. Again and again, even as he fucked her against the mirror, kissing away tears and revering in every inch of her beauty that she despised.

She cried again that night. But this time it was because he had finally begun to turn her self perception on its sorry head.

He needs the soft, yes, but here she realised she needs the rough. The persistent reminders and the tough love.

Sam’s insomnia is a blessing now. He listens to her breathe and watches her eyelids twitch, smiling to himself as he wonders what she’s dreaming about, legs tangled, skin on skin. She hugs his arm into her chest as his other traverses over the curves and bumps and dimples she’s trying so hard to fall in love with the same way he has.

He whispers words of adoration, hoping they'll seep into those dreams, mending the cracks in her fragile self-esteem. And more. Kintsugi.

Sam sighs into her skin. Once upon a time the things he whispers to her would’ve been a front. Cheap flattery. Dive bar bait. Generic honey that drips off of the tongue and down into strangers’ ears so they get lured in just long enough for a moment of selfish pleasure.

But now the honey comes from his heart. The pit of his stomach. The deepest recesses of his mind. Genuine and raw. Just for her.

It’s frightening. One day you’re single and proud of it, swearing never to shackle yourself down with commitment and societal expectations, and the next, you’re ready to lay down your entire life for the sake of helping someone realise their self-worth.

He knows that loving her isn't just about declaring shallow affection— it's about showing her, in every tender touch and lingering gaze, that she is worthy of worship, exactly as she is. And as he holds her close, thumb smoothing over her cheek as she sleeps, he vows to spend a lifetime proving it.

#sam drake #sam drake x reader #uncharted 4 #curve appreciation #body posititivity

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sublimecatgalaxy · 1 year

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Ceilings

Pairing: Post-apocalypse!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smutttt, 18+, swearing but overall this is really wholesome and heartbreaking and possibly my fav thing ever written, so much angsty vibes guys.

Word Count: 1.3k

Song: "Champagne Problems" by Taylor Swift and "Ceilings" by Lizzy McAlpine

Summary: The reader has to leave but Joel is willing to do anything and everyting to keep her in his arms for one more night, not wanting to be abandoned again like everyone else has left him. This is a request by @what-muses; "Female reader smut with Joel Miller and the prompt 'Make Me’."

It's lovely that I have the opportunity to be beside him, bodies curled against each other while we watch the plaster peel off the ceiling, soft rain drops hitting against the cracked window. It's a perfect day to be alone with him, the humid air swarming around us, warming our cold bodies that lay beneath the blankets.

He's so soft like this, bedsheets wrapped around him, his hands splaying across my hip as his lips attentively find a home on the column of my throat. He smells like aftershave and something woodsy, calloused skin feeling good against my own, his aura filling my mind like the most addictive drug.

How special am I to be able to see him in this environment, unlike his typical closed off, hateful, spiteful mood. He's not like that with me, not normally, instead taking on a more protective, caring, stern mood when he's curled up in bed with me but I know that there's still a darkness looming in and out of his mind.

When we first met at the QZ, I didn't know the extent of his pain or what he had been though. Anyone could've seen that he's been through a lot, more than most people and that's saying a lot considering nearly everyone was impacted by the cordyceps looming around, turning our loved ones into monsters.

But when him and I started to get closer and one night, over booze, he confessed to me that he had a daughter who quite literally died in his arms, the day of the fall, his birthday, I broke down with him. How could such a good man, an overall good person, go through that and not turn into a monster of a different form compared to the ones we're used to.

I found out about his brother a week later after Sarah.

He harbors guilt for Tommy, wondering if he was the reason that he left in the first place but anyone who knows Tommy knows that Tommy just seems to be a busy body, always getting involved in something new whether it be the military or the Fireflies.

But he left Joel, like Sarah did, though in different ways.

So what does that say about me?

I don't want to leave him in the morning, but I have to, abandoning the only arms I've ever called home. He doesn't know and he shouldn't have to know that he's losing me in the morning because I know his world will fall into chaos the minute he finds out that I'm leaving. Like everyone else has.

Feels like the start of a movie I've seen before, me leaving him, him leaving me, it's a back and forth nightmare where we don't know when the next time we'll kiss, when our movie will end permanently and the other person won't have closure.

But I have to go.

So for now, I'll soak in what I can, humming quietly as he rests his head on my bare chest, my fingers carding through his tangled locks in an attentive manner. His guitar is in the corner of the room, my eyes lifting to look at it every so often to memorize it just in case I need something to remember when I'm beyond the walls.

I map Joel's fingers, imagining them plucking at the strings and telling me about his daughter, how he got her a guitar when she was younger but she never used it so he picked it up out of spite to show her how easy it was for her to use.

I imagine that Sarah would be happy that he's with me, being constantly dotted on and taken care of, just how he should be. She'd like that he smiles now, that his eyes have softened and jaw has unclenched since her passing. He's told me that he's had no reason to be hopeful for the future until me, no reason to be afraid of losing himself since he's met me.

Since Sarah.

It makes leaving even harder.

"You're leaving aren't you?" Joel asks against my skin, lips brushing softly across my collarbone and I feel the stinging of tears rise to my eyes, frustration and anger towards myself swimming in my brain.

"How'd you know?" He looks up at me with soft eyes, no disappointment or anger behind his brown hues, not like I had expected them to be filled with. Instead it looks like he already knew, as if he assumed I wasn't here to stay and that thought makes my heart break. He always knew I was a flight risk.

"You're holding onto me tight." I can see the glass heart through his eyes shattering with every word that escapes him and I confirm his fears by holding onto him even tighter, worried that he'll leave me before I have the chance to leave him, our normal back and forth bullshit. "Tighter than normal."

"I just wanna be close to you." I find his lips, drinking in his taste as our lips part to accommodate the elephant in the room, my heart weighing heavily in my chest and I can't ignore the fear that this is the last time we'll get to be like this, to have the pleasure to soak in each others presence without behind worlds apart.

"You couldn't be any closer." He whispers against me, greedy yet soft hands urging my hips closer to his and I gasp, feeling his cock against my thigh, my head spinning at the feeling of him so close, wanting nothing but for him to slip inside of me, keeping me close to him and never letting me go.

The words die on the tip of my tongue; I miss you already, I want you, I need you, I can't live without you.

"I want to be." I wrap my arms around his neck, face pressed into the pillow as I throw one of my legs over his hip, moans drowning in the pillow and Joel hums.

"C'mere." His voice keeps me hanging on like a prayer, fingers carding through his hair as his cock finally slips into me with no effort, a small whimpered gasp escaping me at the feeling of being so full, like my missing puzzle piece, fitting perfectly into me, completely my broken edges. "Don't go." He begs, arms wrapping around my waist the best they can and my mind clouds over.

I'm pretty convinced that I'd do anything he'd ask me to when he's deep inside of me, thrusting lazily in and out of me and it makes my eyes spring with tears once more, knowing how desperately and pathetically I'm going to miss being this close to him.

"Joel."

"I never ask for anythin'." He mutters, kissing me sweetly once more and I feel my whole body tremble in his grasp, his hand cirling around my to fist some of my hair, pulling me chin upwards so he can press kiss against my throat, leaving bites in his wake. "Please just stay."

"Make me." I beg, giving into him, knowing in my heart that if I try to leave, it's going to be nearly impossible.

There's something that just happened, just now, something that shifted from what we were before into something new, a sense of wholeness filling us as he fills me and tears trail gently down my cheeks as I reach my peak, tumbling over the edge and pulling Joel with me. He groans loudly, finding my lips as he presses messy, heated kisses to my lips, unrelenting and heartbroken.

"If I had it my way, you'd never leave this bed." Joel whispers after a few moments, holding me tightly to him and not bothering to slip out of me as he gets comfortable, wanting nothing more than to keep me as close as humanly possible.

"Then don't let me."

#joel #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us #the last of us fic

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venusvity · 5 months

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이초희 …… ( THE WEIGHT OF YOU: PART TWO. )

❝Nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death.❞ ― William S. Burroughs

CHARACTERS : CHLOE LEE … JUNG YOONAH … VENUS ENSEMBLE … SON ROAN ... REID KIM ... CHO JIHAN

WORDS : 1.8K

WARNINGS / NOTES : Death. Murder. Blood. Mentions of Past Sexual Assault. Crying. They are getting rid of a body. Transitional Piece. Loosely proofread and edited lol! If there's anything I missed please let me know! I've literally fought with this piece for too long so I'm publishing what I got so we can move on to the next chapter lol! Thank you so much for reading! rbs, comments, and asks are always appreciated ♡

“God, whoever did this has an arm on them.”

“Reid,” Yoonah whispers in an attempt to get the man under control. He looks down at the woman who called him, her arms crossed over her chest with a displeased look on her face. Reid shrugs, a passing look of confusion on his face as he kneels next to Hyojin’s crumbled body.

Reid pokes between the boy’s shoulder blades, grunting softly when the boy’s body moves slightly.

“He’s definitely dead.”

Yoonah sighs loudly, looking towards the living room, where the rest of the girls sat in various states of shock. Klara holds Chloe as close as she can, arm around her shoulders while the other hand holds tightly onto hers. Bliss and Sena sit on the same couch but on separate ends, both with vacant stares.

A hand is on Yoonah’s cheek. She jerks away with a small gasp before looking at Reid with knitted brows. Reid leaves his hand in the air near her face, looking at her with concern. It’s the first time he’s looked concerned since he got here despite seeing a dead body in a puddle of blood.

“Did he hit you?” Reid asks.

The fight happened so fast that Yoonah can barely remember it. Hyojin was unstoppable. He was like a monster from one of Yoonah’s nightmares, a rage that no one could stop. She remembers how hard his shove was; it sent her straight to the ground. Yoonah’s been thrown around before; she’s been hit before, but nothing compared to the rage that was Hyojin. When she dug her nails into his arm to rip him off of Klara, he swatted her away like an annoying fly buzzing near his ear.

She assumes that’s what Reid is referring to.

“He hit all of us,” Yoonah sighs as Reid leans down to look at her bruising cheek, “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”

Reid huffs, brushing his thumb over her cheek. Yoonah’s lips twitch as she holds back a flinch, staring at his face momentarily. She remembered what he looked like with blood and tears on his face. He looks so strong now, so cold, but Yoonah still knows him. She knows his eyes. They’re warm and filled with the light of twenty suns. Even with all he’s seen with those eyes, they still harbor that ardor.

Reid drops his hand, nodding with a grunt.

“Yeah…” He looks down at the body again before sighing and pulling his phone out. Yoonah knits her brows as he begins dialing a phone number.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Roan.”

“Why?” Yoonah reaches to get the phone from his hand, but Reid simply turns away from her. It’s easy for him to dodge her attempts to grab the phone from his hand by how he towers over her.

“I can’t carry this thing on my own,” Reid tells her as if she’s ever actually assisted in getting rid of a body. She’s just cleaned the killers up afterward. A task that never required seeing a body or dealing with fresh blood, only dried.

“I’ll do it. Don’t drag another person into this!” Yoonah argues, reaching for his phone again, but Reid is quicker than her, putting his hand on her shoulder and holding her back at arm's length.

“You’re too small. He’ll probably be happy Hyojin’s dead anyway. Don’t worry so much.” If Yoonah weren’t so frazzled by what just occurred in her hallways, she would be scared at Reid’s callousness towards death and murder. Then she remembers all she knows about him, the times they’ve shared together in steamy bathrooms with Reid in the bathtub and Yoonah scrubbing at the blood stains on his back.

Roan shows up in ten minutes flat. Yoonah doesn’t know how he got here so fast.

Yoonah learns he’s more handsome in person, even with a look of shock on his face. Another man strolls in behind Roan with his hands in his pockets like this was a normal Saturday night affair, making Yoonah look at Reid in agitated confusion.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know. Why would–”

“That’s Jihan,” Roan simply answers as Jihan kneels beside Hyojin’s lifeless body, rolling his from his stomach to his back with a small grunt. “He knows what he’s doing.”

Yoonah looks back into the living room to see Bliss cleaning the blood splatters off Sena’s face with a makeup wipe. She sees Chloe and Klara talking quietly, their eyes locked and fingers tightly intertwined. She sighs through her nose when Jihan huffs, looking up at Roan with a shrug.

“He got any family?”

“No,” Chloe’s voice suddenly rings out. All heads turn toward the girl who stands on the threshold of the kitchen and living room. “His mom died, and his dad disowned him. His grandma is dead, too. He had no one except maybe…” Chloe finds it hard to say the other man’s name, feeling bile rise in her throat at the mere thought of him. Roan watches her carefully, putting the pieces together for her.

“Daeul.” Chloe scowls when she hears the syllables of his name, glaring down at Hyojin’s body. She hates that she can see his face now. He looks as if he’s sleeping, making her sick to her stomach. Countless nights, she saw that face, watched that face, trying to figure out why he was the way he was, why he treated her the way he did, and feared that face. How someone so physically beautiful could be so evil was beyond her.

“He’s not going to be a problem, is he?” Jihan asks, trying to work this out logistically. Roan and Chloe shake their heads in unspoken unison.

“He’s a coward,” Roan deadpans. Chloe silently agrees. Jihan nods before sighing, pushing himself to stand and pointing to Reid.

“You know what to do.” And Reid does know what to do, moving like a robot when those words leave Jihan’s mouth.

Reid nods, his face unreadable as he walks towards the kitchen, Yoonah trailing behind him. She watches as he opens one of the cabinets, revealing an array of cleaning supplies. Yoonah's heart pounds in her chest, her mind racing with thoughts of what Reid is about to do. But she knows she can't let him carry this burden alone.

"Wait," Yoonah says, stepping forward and placing a hand on Reid's arm. He looks at her, his eyes searching hers for a moment before he sighs.

"I don't want you involved in this any further," Reid mutters, his voice low and filled with apprehension.

Yoonah shakes her head, determination burning in her gaze. "It’s a bit too late for that.” Reid’s gaze softens slightly at her words, knowing they’re true. Still, that doesn’t make it easier for either of them.

Reid gives her a long look before finally nodding. With a silent understanding, they gather the necessary supplies and make their way back to the lifeless body of Hyojin. Yoonah's heart pounds in her chest, a mix of fear and adrenaline fueling her every step. She has never witnessed such brutality before, and the weight of the situation presses down on her shoulders. But she refuses to let it consume her.

Reid sets down the cleaning supplies on the kitchen counter, his movements calculated and precise. Yoonah watches him closely, trying to mimic his calm demeanor despite the chaos swirling inside her mind. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what lies ahead.

Jihan does know what he’s doing. The way he expertly folds Hyojin’s body up and into a suitcase makes Yoonah queasy, unable to tear her gaze away from him as he does so. Chloe doesn’t look half as disturbed as Yoonah. When Yoonah looks at her to check on her, she’s blank. There’s nothing in her eyes or on her face. She just watches the man she once loved get folded up like a paper bird and stuffed into a suitcase.

“How are you going to get rid of him?” Chloe asks, voice still void of any emotion. Roan looks at Jihan, then at Chloe, then back at Jihan again, shrugging his shoulders slightly. He’s clearly not in charge of things like this often. Jihan glances at the suitcase and then at Chloe.

“We’re going to burn him then dump the ashes in the river.”

“Jesus Christ,” Yoonah whispers, running her hands through her hair to hold onto the roots tightly. Silently, she exits to the living room, needing the comfort of her sisters not the callousness of the men in their kitchen.

Chloe feels her jaw tighten at that, looking at the silver suitcase Hyojin was now stuffed in. For some reason, her eyes feel warm. She doesn’t feel much of anything right now. She doesn’t know why her body is telling her to cry. Instead she takes a deep breath, turning her gaze to Jihan, raising her brows.

“I want to come with you,” Chloe tells him. Roan shakes his head, arms crossing.

“No. No, you don’t-”

“You’re only saying that because you read what he did to me,” Chloe interjects bluntly, her eyes lifting from Jihan to Roan, who takes a deep breath and remains silent. Chloe runs her tongue over the underside of her molars, nodding.

“It was pretty nasty, wasn’t it?”

She’s met with silence. Chloe hates knowing that another person knows the details of what happened to her that night, especially when the details were put in such a clinical way on her report. Even though Chloe didn’t hate Jinhwa, she was happy when he died because that meant one less person knew what happened to her. Roan can’t even meet her eyes anymore, looking at the drying puddle of blood on the ground instead.

“I think I get the right to watch him burn…Right?” Jihan looks up at Roan at Chloe’s question, his eyes telling him he agrees with her. With a sigh through his nose, Roan nods, letting his arms drop to his side with a clap. Chloe forces a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes at him when he agrees, adverting her gaze back to the suitcase. She feels something begin to light in her chest the longer she looks at it, a small smile creeping on her lips.

Relief.

#╰ * VENUS : scenarios ⧽ burn it to the ground .#ficnetfairy #fictional idol group #fictional idol community #kpop fanfic #idol oc #kpop oc #fake kpop oc #kpop au #idol au #kpop addition #idolverse #oc girl group #bts addition #fake kpop girl group #fake kpop idol #oc kpop group #stray kids addition

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osamusbigtits · 10 months

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nobara watches maki dry her hair. nobara sits on maki's bed, brushing her own hair after her shower. the room feels calm. safe. nobara likes it in here. nothing is expected of her. she doesn't have to watch her back.

maki shakes out her short hair, the movement jostles maki's tits. not that nobara is stealing glances at her.

her muscled, scarred body always catches nobara's eyes. maki always takes her time to dress, but she tends to only wear a tank-top and a pair of underwear.

maki is pretty. in her own way. her toned arms, faint abs, small, perky boobs. she has a boyish charm that makes nobara flustered. nobara is attracted to her, but she doesn't think she'd ever act on anything. nobara still needs time to heal after... well, after everything. and she's sure maki needs time, too.

nobara always finds herself staring at maki's boobs. not because she's being a creep or anything. but it always makes nobara feel like her boobs are busting out of her clothes. too big to be necessary. sure, boys like it, but who cares? especially since maki's boobs are perky and nice to look at. while, because they're big, nobara's kind of sag.

she compares herself to maki a lot. it's unnecessary. but she can't help it. nobara constantly looks at the world around her and immediately starts picking herself apart about it.

maybe she'll get over that one day. but for now, she's focusing on getting over her ptsd.

but when she thinks about it, she's never heard anyone outright call maki pretty. not like boys all flock to nobara to call her pretty, gorgeous, beautiful. anything under the sun, she's heard to compliment her looks.

"do boys ever..." nobara trails off, finding the way she wants to say it.

maki pulls a tank-top over her head and looks at nobara. "treat me like they treat you?" she finishes for nobara. nobara can only nod.

maki smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. it's a bittersweet thing. she grabs a pair of black panties and pulls them on before sitting next to nobara.

"no. they don't. not even when my hair was long and my face wasn't scarred to shit." maki brings a leg up on the bed, the other still dangling as she leans back on her hands. "I'm... I've always been outspoken and boys don't like that. makes them insecure and rude. I've seen the looks they give me. like they want to tame me."

nobara looks down at the bedspread. her manicured nails pick at random strings. "what's that like?"

maki shrugs. "not fun. but I'm sure what you get feels worse."

nobara flushes. "I mean. sometimes it's fun. I used to like the attention. now it..."

makes her feel sick. someone looks at her too long and she's on edge, ready to fight or flee. if someone strange talks to her, she feels like she needs to go home immediately and scrub it off of her skin. and she has. her once silky soft skin, that lingered of the smell of vanilla lotion, is now rough and calloused and scarred.

maki scoots closer. putting a hand on nobara's, she says, "mai used to get a lot of attention." used to... "similar to the attention you get. she never liked it. there were always... bigger things happening. but I get what you mean."

maki wraps an arm around nobara's shoulders and nobara leans into the warmth. she used to care about her drying hair, used to care that it would get messed up. now, she just wants to be held. the warmth seeping into her bones and melting her nerves away.

after a moment of silence, maki speaks again. her usual bravado is gone, her voice soft. a side of her nobara rarely sees. "we've been through a lot. I'm glad I still have you."

nobara's eyes sting with tears and she wraps her arms around maki, holding tight. "I think you're pretty," nobara whispers. "even if guys don't tell you."

maki laughs. not maliciously. "thank you."

#thought this up when i was in the shower #jjk #kugisaki nobara #zenin maki #bex thoughts

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shawtygonemad · 1 year

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CORRUPTED: CHAPTER THREE

Let Me Save You

Masterlist

Rose Hathaway x Dimitri Belikov

Chapter Trigger Warning: Slight NSFW thoughts

[Dimitri POV]

Let me save you. Let me save you. It’s not a rescue if I just want to. Just say yes now, and I won’t tell anyone else. So let me save you. Let me save you.

I approached the CD player with one of the mixed tapes I had in my office. Just as I was about to place it in Rose’s loud voice bellowed out.

“Oh no! We are done listening to your old man music!” She huffed as she stormed over while hastily throwing her hair into a bun. “Give me your phone.”

“What?” I chuckled, thinking she was joking. “No.”

She stared at me for a moment with a challenging look. A second later, she turned on her heels and headed towards the doors that led to the locker rooms and guardian offices.

“Rose!” I called for her, but she ignored me and stepped through the doors.

My lips formed into a tight line as I gave a quiet growl of frustration. With irritation building, I followed her. She was so stubborn and headstrong. I wish she’d just listened to me for once!

I found her in my office. She was sitting on the edge of my desk. Her legs were crossed as she intently stared at my cell phone in her hand. I briefly had to close my eyes. Seeing her sitting like that, in my environment no less, did shameful things to me. Her lips had been slightly pursed as she tried to figure out my passcode. Lips that looked so utterly kissable.

“Comrade, what’s your passcode?” Rose asked with the most irresistible pout.

It was hard to stay mad at her most times. I playfully rolled my eyes as I took the phone from her. After entering the code, I passed the unlocked device back to her. She gave the biggest smile at this. I approached as she was downloading an app. My towering figure leaned against the desk beside where she sat. This made it easy for me to peer down and see what she was up to.

“What’s Spotify?” I asked.

“It’s a music app,” she explained. “We can finally listen to music from this decade!”

“Has it ever occurred to you that I enjoy listening to my current music selection?” I raised an eyebrow.

Rose gave a sigh through her nose before speaking again. “Alright, let’s compromise. What if we create a combined playlist? That way, we can both have the music we like on it. Deal?”

“Deal,” I smiled as I shook her extended hand in agreement.

Her hands were so small and soft compared to mine. She only had a few callouses, which I could tell made her self-conscious. There was nothing for her to worry about, though. Everything about her was perfect. Every bump, dip, scar. It was all incredible and made Rose who she was. All of her imperfections helped turn her so beautiful.

‘Enough,’ I mentally scolded myself. ‘You can not keep thinking of her like that. She is your student, and you are her mentor.’

I needed to take my mind off of her, off of how close our bodies were. Focusing on the task at hand usually helped. My eyebrows furrowed when I focused back on what Rose was doing.

“Why are you adding a song from a playlist named ‘He’s a 10 but he’s in jail’?” I asked, amused.

“Jail isn't fun, but some pretty good songs can come from it,” Rose stated nonchalantly.

“You’ve been to jail?” Amusement dripped in my voice as I raised my eyebrow once more.

“Once,” the novice so plainly confirmed. “In Monopoly.”

This caused her to laugh out loud at her own joke. I chuckled and shook my head at her antics. How was this girl the most humorous person I’ve ever met? Ivan would have been so disappointed to learn that she took his triumphant place as the comic relief in my life. He would have loved her, though. They are so much alike. Their humor, mischievousness, and overall confidence. The two of them would have been as thick as thieves and definitely would have conspired against me.

The blaring sound of my phone’s ringer went off, disrupting my dream. My eyes scrunched with annoyance as I tried to bring myself to full consciousness. I rolled over and leaned on my elbow as I snatched the phone from the bedside table. The ringer must have still been all the way up from being at the club last night. God forbid Zmey lets me miss one of his phone calls.

Speaking of which, his name was on the caller ID. I glanced at the last retreating strands of daylight slipping behind the hotel curtains. Why would he be calling me this early in the Moroi morning?

“Belikov,” I answer, my voice deep from sleep.

“Guardian Belikov, please don’t hang up! It’s Lissa. I need to talk to you,” Vasilisa’s sweet, but anxious, voice came through the speaker.

Hearing her voice kicked me back into my guardian drive.

“Princess? Is everything alright?” I asked, wide awake now.

“Yes. Well… no. I need you to stop your search for Rose,” she pleaded. “Please.”

“Princess, I-”

“Just listen! I think there is a way we can save Rose. She trusted you, so I know that means I can trust you too. Now I just need you to trust me,” Vasilisa said.

I paused for a moment to consider before responding. “Okay.”

“I know Rose told you about everything: the car accident, my abilities, our bond. After some research, I have a theory that I’m confident will work. My spirit brought her back from the dead once, and I believe I can do it again,” the princess explained. “As a strigoi she’s technically dead, or undead, or whatever! If I stake her, bringing her to the brink of death again, then use my spirit… I think I can resurrect her. I can bring her soul back.”

My whole world froze. The only sound I could hear was my heart rapidly beating inside my chest. Could this be true? I’d be absolutely anything to bring my Roza back to me. Only this sounds like a fairytale. There have never been any recorded instances of Strigoi being resurrected. Although that’s what I’ve always thought about Spirit.

I knew my neighbor in Baia, Oksana, claimed to be a Spirit user. Sadly, I just never fully believed her. It wasn’t until I saw it used right before my eyes with Vasilisa. Rose was living, breathing, proof that it was real. I’ve read reports on their accident. There should have been no survivors. Yet those two girls lived to see the next day. So maybe the princess is right. She brought Rose back from death once. Why couldn’t she do it again?

“Hello? Are you still there?” Vasilisa’s voice called out through the receiver.

“Yes. I’m just… processing,” I replied.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. We- ooo!” Her voice waiver before she took a quick pause. “Sorry about that. I just got a random chill. Anyway, we need your help. Where are you? We can send someone to get you.”

“Princess-”

“No buts! Listen, I know you basically threw everything away when you went looking for Rose. If you help with this then I can personally promise you’ll be welcome back to the guardians with no repercussions. All we need to do is get a plan together. I believe we can do this. We all do!” She encouraged me.

“Thank you, princess. That’s all very kind of you. But if I do return to the guardians then I will take whatever punishment they hand out to me. I went AWOL and it’s nothing to take lightly.” Then something clicked into place. “I’m sorry, did you say we? Princess, before I forget to ask, why are you calling me from-”

A new voice joined the line. The same one that always managed to send chills down my spine. He spoke in fluent Russian. I assume to be sure those near him didn’t hear what he had to say.

“Belikov,” Zmey greeted. “I need to know that you’re fully on board with this. I know that all of this sounds like nonsense, but I believe this could work. I’ve heard stories of Strigoi being restored in the past. Maybe two or so cases. However, the Dragomir princess’s theory sounds the most plausible when it comes to the how. I think it can be worth a shot.”

I sighed before speaking. I needed to remember that this was for Rose.

“I’m in,” I answered.

“Excellent. Now, are you in the same location I gave to you a few days ago? I can send for a plane to come get you,” Zmey continued.

“No. It was a deadend. I’m in Wilmington, Delaware, now. Choice Inn and Suites near the airport,” I replied.

“You’re not too far from here then,” he said before speaking aloud and in English. “Paval, have a plane sent to pick Belikov up in Wilmington, Delaware.”

A distant voice of Paval could be faintly heard.

"Well, his hotel is about a 10 minute drive to the airport. So he can just meet you there," Zmey discussed with his guardian.

“Where are you? And why are you with the Dragomir princess?” I snipped as I could feel my frustration building.

“Lord Szelzky typically resides in Nepal. However, he does have an estate in Pennsylvania for when he is needed at Court. That’s where he’s been residing for the last month or so. However, the home was attacked by a Strigoi. Lord Szelsky and one guardian were killed. Can you guess who that Strigoi was?” Bitterness seeped into Zmey’s mouth.

My blood ran cold, and I prayed that I wasn’t right. “Rose.”

“There was only one survivor she left alive, and that was her mother. She has a severe concussion, a few broken ribs, and chest contusions. All of that so she could give you a message,” more venom dripped into his voice.

“A message?”

“She told Janine to tell you to come and find her. That she’ll be waiting.” There was a pause before he continued. “Be at runway nine in two hours. Guardian Pavel will be there to greet you.”

The line went dead and I felt my stomach sink. I was the reason for Guardian Hathaway’s injuries. But how did Rose discover that I was tracking her? I’ve kept my location and plans secretive. People made assumptions, but they never had concrete evidence. I just turned in my resignation to Alberta and left without further notice.

I groaned as I could feel a headache forming. My hands ran up and down my face a few times in hopes of alleviating it. Sadly, it didn’t help. So instead, I decided to get up and take a shower.

It wasn’t very long. Most times I use the shower to think and contemplate. Sometimes even daydream about a certain brunette being in there with her. Her warm, wet, skin pressed up against me from behind. Her worn hands sliding up the sides of my back before meeting together in the front. Then she’d slip those hands down my chest agonizingly slowly. Moving down their path until they graze the dips in my hips before grasp my-

No. It had to be a short shower. My things still needed to be packed up before I headed off to the airport. From the sounds of my stomach suddenly growling, I should probably grab something to eat on the way as well.

It didn’t take long to pack, so that left me with plenty of time to get food. By the time I stepped outside, darkness had completely fallen everywhere. My guard needed to be up even more now. Especially since Rose knows that I’m looking for her. As I made my way through the parking lot to my car, I kept my eyes scanning the surroundings. Everything looked to be clear. I unlocked the door and quickly got in. Or as quickly as I could get into a Honda with my 6’7” frame.

Once inside I locked the doors and tossed my duffle bag to the front seat. Just as I turned the car on and settled in, I heard her voice. Like a beautiful angel of death coming to reap my soul.

“Hi Comrade,” Rose whispered in my ear.

Before I could even move, everything went black.

{Song Inspo: Let Me Save You by Emily Rowed}

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tvrningout-archived · 2 years

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@violetueur said: 🤲 you know my ass has to send this for Kaigaku. Gentle as can be and thumbs brushing fondly over the markings on his face. help from: send 🤲 to cradle my character’s face in your muse’s hands!

he hasn't eaten in... well, a while. longer than necessary. he hasn't been able to bring himself to tell nicolette about the hunger gnawing at his stomach, let her know he's running on empty because he knows her. kaigaku knows she'll offer her blood to him, and he doesn't want her to. he doesn't want to chance harming her should he lose control ( and how prone to that he's been, how easy it's been to lose himself ).

but like most choices he's made, he was wrong to keep his hunger to himself. now he's frozen where he stands before their target's would-be victim, talons digging into his palms and teeth nearly biting his tongue in two. the taste of his own blood is nothing compared to the smell of the trembling man's. he's uttering something kaigaku doesn't catch, too focused on the gash across his leg that's left him immobilized and helpless. he can't think straight; it's like the blood is singing, beckoning him closer, and the only reason his self-restraint doesn't fall to pieces is that just as he takes a step forward, there's another body obstructing his way.

she smells of blood, too, but it's fainter, nearly concealed by ash and sweat and something familiar. it doesn't fully register that it's nicolette standing in front of him at first. he just knows she's in the way, and he's so damn hungry. fangs reveal themselves in a crimson-tinted snarl, when---

" hey, hey, kai! "

that's... that's her nickname for him. he's never told her, but he likes it. teruko used to call him that, too.

nicolette stands there with a hand outstretched as though to keep him where he is, brow furrowed and purple gaze worried. his snarl fades only to be replaced by a grimace. the blood isn't singing anymore -- it's screaming at him, wondering why he hasn't ripped through both of these humans already. it's what demons are meant to do, so why shouldn't he? monsters don't mind ending lives, even revel in it, so what makes him any different?

calloused hands cradle his cheeks, and kaigaku nearly tears away ( she can’t be so close! he’ll hurt her! ). his own hands immediately grip her wrists, unaware of the scratches he gives her in his panic, but in the end, kaigaku can’t bring himself to pull away from nicolette. instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on the thumbs gently brushing across his skin, how warm her palms are. it’s okay, nicolette says. this isn’t you. he’s just hungry, right? she gets a little cranky when she’s hungry, too. it’s okay.

“ you won’t hurt him. ” she sounds so sure and confident that he opens his eyes to meet her gaze ( how can she still look at him like that, like he’s deserving of her care? even when he’s like this? ). “ you don’t want to. ”

he doesn’t. he wants so badly to stop.

it takes a few more moments, a few more reassurances, but the smell of blood grows more bearable. his hunger still rumbles in his stomach like an impatient beast, but he no longer feels he’ll succumb to its gnashing teeth. nicolette is right -- he doesn’t want to hurt that man. he doesn’t want to be the monster who takes what he wants at the expense of others. he’s been that monster, and he hates it.

“ i should... i’ll wait outside. ” how awkward he feels as he pulls away ( and how cold, too ). how many more times will nicolette have to see kaigaku lose control? he turns to leave, teal eyes firmly focused on the ground, and quietly -- almost too quietly for her to hear -- he utters, “ i’m sorry. ”

#violetueur #the way tumblr tried to sabotage me while i was writing this!!!!#i was ready to post it when the ask editor deleted half of what i wrote and crashed B(((((((#but thankfully i was able to rewrite it mostly the same with some wee modifications that i think i like more anyway #BUT HI I KNOW THIS WAS MEANT TO BE SOFT BUT UHHHHH HAVE A LIL ANGST TOO BC WHY NOT : ))))#ALSO lemme know if what i wrote sounds ooc whatsoever for nicolette!! even the dialogue!!#i try to avoid writing other people's muses but sometimes it can't be helped with the scenario i imagine asdf #okay ilu thank you for sending this in and letting me write a ton for these two again :' )))#interactions | kaigaku #i'm a loser just like you | plotted au with violetueur | kaigaku

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hufflepuffwithaslytherinkink · 1 year

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Tacenda - Chapter 36 Snippet

Eleanor's just about to walk up the stairs to her dorm when someone calls her, she turns around to find Lavender looking at her happily. She quickly skips over to Eleanor and links their arms. It shocks Eleanor as her and Lavender have never been close enough to randomly link arms on the stair case.

“Um, hi Lav.” Eleanor says as they walk up the stairs to the dorm together. “Are you okay?”

Lavender nods happily before turning to Eleanor with a conniving expression.

“I’ve heard some rumours about you.” She says knowingly.

Eleanor groans internally, great, who hasn’t heard those rumours?

“Which ones?” Eleanor asks grimacing.

“The one’s about you and Harry. Is it true?” She asks eagerly. Seriously? She’s trying to get gossip from her?

“No, it’s not true.” Eleanor dismisses immediately.

Lavender pouts before giving Eleanor a disbelieving expression. “You don’t have to lie to me Elle, we’re friends aren’t we? Besides I know you two did snog and you keep sitting together, I don’t know why you’re both hiding it you look cute together.” She beams at Eleanor.

“I’m not hiding anything with Harry.” Eleanor states deciding to add on the with Harry so she’s not completely lying to another one of her friends. “There’s nothing going on between us, we kissed once but that was it.”

Lavender lets out a small noise of displeasure. “Oh that sucks. I’m sorry Elle.” She says as thought Eleanor had just been dumped. “But I think you should go out with him, imagine how good that would be.” She says enthusiastically.

Eleanor’s eyebrows raise at the suggestion, she shakes her head before answering.

“I um, yeah, Harry’s great but I don’t really see him like that. We’re just friends.” Eleanor explains.

“Don’t you think he’s cute though? With his dark messy hair, muscular body and those eyes.” Lavender gushes.

Eleanor stares at her in shock. “Aren’t you dating Ron?” She asks incredulously.

Lavender nods before looking at Eleanor as though she’d just said something amazing, her eyes lighting up and her lips pulling into a wide grin.

“Yes I am. Oh Eleanor you’re a genius.” She cries out squeezing Eleanor’s arm. “Okay so here’s the plan, I’ll speak to Won-Won tonight tell him to find out what Harry thinks of you, plant the seed that he should ask you out. Then we can go on double dates. How fun would that be?” She squeals.

Eleanor’s jaw drops in horror. How did her going to get her jacket to meet up with her boyfriend turn into her roommate getting her one-time-fake snog to ask her out?

“No you don’t-.” Eleanor starts but Lavender brushes her off.

“Don’t worry about it.” She tells her. “Trust me by tomorrow you and Harry will be an item. No one will remember the other boys you’ve been with because Harry’s the most desirable boy in the school right now. Obviously, I’m not interested because I’ve got my Won-Won but still. Argh I’m so excited, it’s going to be so fun we can compare them both.”

They can what now?

“That sounds great Lav.” Eleanor says disentangling herself from Lavenders hold. “I’ll speak to you about it tomorrow, okay?”

Lavender’s face falls. “Don’t you want to talk about it now? Wouldn’t you like to go over all Harry’s great features? Like I bet his hands are calloused from playing quidditch but still soft you know, or because he’s captain he likes to be firm and take control.”

What the fuck is happening? Eleanor thinks.

“Um yeah, no. I was just grabbing my jacket to go and study in the library.” Eleanor tells her as fear starts to set in. She does not want to talk about all that stuff.

“Oh. Well okay then.” Lavender says taking a seat on her bed as she watches Eleanor pull her jacket off her own bed. “I’ll work on Won-Won tonight and I’ll tell you all about it when you come back from the library.”

“Okay.” Eleanor says with a tight smile. “Thanks. I’m gonna.” She gestures to the door and Lavender nods giving her a small wave before falling back onto her bed with a squeal.

Eleanor almost runs from her dorm, eager to get away from Hogwarts’s matchmaker. Even if Eleanor didn’t already have a boyfriend she wouldn’t want to be forced into a relationship like that, she knows Lavender’s trying to be nice but at the same time that was rather intense.

Though she can’t stop a smile from appearing at the thought of telling Harry. Their in-joke about their romantic lives growing ridiculously fast.

Eleanor makes her way through the grounds, it’s pleasant outside and she takes a deep breath enjoying the spring evening. Forgetting all about other boys, homework and meddling girls.

Tonight, she was going to focus on her and Theo and that was it, no need to complicate life unnecessarily.

She turns the corner towards the greenhouses almost skipping to greenhouse 3 when she sees Theo walking down the path ahead of her. He walks straight into the greenhouse his shoulders a little tense.

Eleanor purses her lips wondering what could be wrong. She quickens her steps before pulling open the door and stepping into the chilly room. The smell of freshly dug dirt filling her nostrils.

Theo turns towards her an anxious expression melting off his face.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” He tells her sounding a little dejected.

Eleanor walks towards him as he opens his arms to embrace her. “Why on earth wouldn’t I come?” She asks.

Theo shrugs. “I don’t know. I was a bit late and you weren’t here and I just thought maybe you were sick of having to hide.”

Eleanor stares at him curiously. “I’m never going to get sick of this.” She tells him honestly bringing her hands to cup his face. “You’re worth all the sneaking around in the world.”

She places a brief kiss to his lips enjoying the way he relaxes at her touch and reassurance. She can’t believe someone like Theo would be worried about someone like her leaving him. As if she’d ever have the strength to leave him. Why would she even want to leave him?

“Thank you.” He mutters dropping his head to her shoulder as he holds her closer.

Eleanor rubs his back comfortingly. “It’s okay it’s just the truth. Is something wrong?” She asks worry starting to build.

Theo shakes his head. “No, not really. It’s just there’s been word from my dad and I hate it.” He tells her.

Oh.

“I didn’t know people could write from Azkaban.” She says nervously.

“They’re not meant to really.” Theo tells her. “But the ministry is corrupt and I know for a fact the dementors are changing sides, they’re going to be working for the dark lord sooner rather than later.”

Eleanor’s blood runs cold at Theo’s words her heart sinking at the reality of the death eaters winning and gaining more leverage than them.

“What does that mean?” She asks quietly.

“I’m not sure but it can’t be anything good.” He responds.

“Do you want to talk about what your dad said?” Eleanor asks hesitantly not sure if she should bring it up, she knows it’s a touchy subject.

“It’s not worth repeating.” He tells her, his voice muffled by her jacket. “Just the normal pureblood shit, mixed with don’t disappoint him etcetera, etcetera.”

Eleanor tenses a little at that.

“Hey, don’t worry he’s still locked up.” Theo tells her. “He’s an arse hole but one that can’t hurt us okay.”

Eleanor nods closing her eyes as she takes in a deep breath, breathing in the calming scent of Theo’s aftershave.

“It doesn’t make how he speaks to you any better.” Eleanor mutters, knowing how badly his dad treats him. How little he makes Theo feel.

“That’s just dad.” Theo shrugs. “Don’t worry I don’t give a shit what he thinks.”

Eleanor bites her lip, Theo might say that but she remembers him waiting for his dad to turn up on Platform 9¾ on his birthday to say goodbye, she remembers the little boy talking sadly about how his dad didn’t spend much time with him, she remembers how every time he’s talked about him he’s got a sad glint in his eye that he can never quite hide.

“You shouldn’t because he’s wrong.” Eleanor tells him firmly. “You’re amazing Theo. I’m proud of you.”

Theo stares at her in surprise. “You’re proud of me? Why?”

“Because you’ve gone against your upbringing. You’ve seen something wrong in the world and you’ve decided you won’t be pressured into that lifestyle. You’re also brave, kind, smart and have a lovely arse.” She says making Theo chuckle.

He stares at her bashfully a smile pulling at his lips. “You think so?”

“Oh yeah real peachy.” She grins.

Theo snorts shoving her head lightly making her giggle. “I know that, I see you staring at it enough. I meant do you really think I’m like that? Do you… do you think I’m good?” He asks sounding unsure of himself.

Eleanor’s heart breaks at the question. He wants to be good, he wants to be told he’s a good person. Doesn’t he realise he’s more than good.

“Yes Theo, you are.” She says placing a delicate kiss to his lips. When she pulls away she sees him staring at her with a dreamlike expression. She grins as he watches her lips. “Was that why you were late?” She asks pulling Theo back into the present.

“Oh, no. The other boys wanted to know where I’ve been disappearing to. I told them I need to make sure I study more because I’m being watched by the teachers.” He tells her.

“Did they buy it?” She asks.

“It’s Crabbe and Goyle, I could have told them I was opening an ice-cream shop and they’d have believed me. Malfoy’s the one to look out for but he’s… preoccupied this year.”

“How so?” She asks. She’s noticed Malfoy disappearing a lot herself, he even missed a couple of quidditch games and Malfoy doesn’t mess around when it comes to quidditch.

“I can’t say, I have theories but no evidence.” He muses before turning to Eleanor curiously. “How come you were late?”

An amused smile spread over her face at the memory. “Because Lavender Brown just tried to set me up on a date with Harry.” She laughs.

Theo’s face crumples before his eyebrows rise comically into his hairline.

“Excuse me?” He says with a small scoff. “I hope you told her where to go.”

Eleanor giggles again running her fingers over Theo’s brow until it starts to relax. “I did, though she’s not having any of it. She thinks we’d be cute together and wants us to go on double dates so she’s speaking to Ron tonight to get Harry to ask me out.”

“The fuck that’s happening.” Theo grumbles.

Eleanor smiles at him, he’s so jealous it’s adorable. “Harry knows I like someone else, we’re just friends. It’s a futile effort but she wouldn’t take no for an answer and I wanted to get here to you. So I decided to let her have her little fantasy tonight and then tomorrow her dreams will come crashing down around her.”

Theo’s still frowning as Eleanor smiles at him. He really is adorable when he’s jealous.

“So some girl is trying to set my girlfriend up with another boy even after she said no?” He states angrily.

“Pretty much.” Eleanor nods.

Theo’s teeth grind together as he glares at a plant behind Eleanor’s head.

“Potter better not ask you out.” Theo says in irritation.

Eleanor rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t know I’m actually dating someone, he just knows I like someone and we occasionally do stuff. Besides he likes someone else too and it’s not like I’d say yes. He could ask for show and I’d just go oh no I’m done with boys they’re all the same, they leave you disappointed and broken hearted.”

Theo raises his eyebrows at her though a small smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Is that right?” He asks playfully. “All boys?”

Eleanor brings her hands up to rest on his shoulder. “Maybe not all boys.” She amends.

“Want to tell me what boys are different?” He inquires.

“There’s this one guy, he’s adorable, has dark hair and these eyes that make me want to burn the world to the ground for him. I know he’d never hurt me, ever.” Eleanor states staring into Theo’s eyes.

“Really? Can you tell me this guy’s name? I might have to take him out and reduce the competition.” He says moving closer to her.

Eleanor smiles tilting her head in preparation for a kiss when she says. “Norman.”

Theo stops looking at her blankly before bursting into laughter. He shakes his head.

“Sorry I can’t do it.” He chuckles. “I love Norman too much, we’re just going to have to figure it out.”

Eleanor grins at him. “He’s too charming he steals everyone’s hearts.”

“He really does.” Theo laughs wrapping his arms around her lower back.

“But other than Norman.” She states noting how Theo’s watching her intently. “There’s this one guy who stole my heart the day he met me, I think he’s owned it ever since.”

Theo grins at her. “I could say the same about this girl.”

“What a strange pair.” Eleanor says mushily.

“The strangest.” Theo agrees with a smirk.

“I think you’d better prove yourself Mr Nott.” Eleanor tells him bringing her hand to run her fingers over the exposed skin on the back of his neck.

“Prove what Miss Harris?” He asks, his hands starting to drop to caress the swell of her backside.

“That you’re not like the other boys, that you won’t leave me disappointed.” She tells him.

Theo’s eyes darken at her words. “I would never leave you disappointed love.” He tells her before smashing his lips against hers sloppily. It takes a while for Eleanor to find a rhythm to the kiss as Theo’s mouth moves senselessly, his hormones apparently taking over as he devours her.

His hands knead the flesh of her arse as he bites her lower lip, Eleanor pulling his hair in retaliation dragging a deep moan from him.

Damn she’s always a mess when it comes to him.

Theo pushes her backwards until she’s pressed against one of the benches, he grasps her waist lifting her up onto it. She instantly brings her legs to wrap around him pulling him closer to herself as the kiss deepens even further. Her stomach burning with desire as she feels him against her.

Merlin he feels so good, she might combust at any second.

Theo’s moves one of his hands to pull at her shirt, tugging it from inside her skirt before letting his hand trail over the skin of her back, sending a shiver through Eleanor’s body. He’s just about to bring his hand to her chest when she hears movement.

She pulls away look around. “What was that?” She asks.

“What?” Theo says looking over his shoulder.

There’s another noise followed by a pair of footsteps. Theo quickly pulls Eleanor off the bench before tugging her to the floor and hiding underneath one of the desks. He lies on the cold ground positioning her so she’s lying over his torso, their fronts pressed together as they listen to who’s entering the greenhouse.

#theo nott x original character #theodore nott fan fic #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott x original character #tacenda chapter 36 #tacenda fic #hogwarts #secret relationship #friends to enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #forbidden love #forbidden relationship #slytherin x gryffindor #gryffindor x slytherin

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hajizz · 2 years

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𝟐𝟑:𝟓𝟑 | 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐗 𝐅!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

“you used to like ‘samu right, baby?” suna asks as he pulls your hair away from your face.

you’re kneeling down in front of him, in the space between his legs, head bobbing up and down in hungry fervor before the sudden question catches you off guard. you pull back to stare at him, a string of saliva connecting between the tip of his head and your lower lip. “yeah rin, why?” you answer shyly, remembering the time you had told him about your little crush on his best friend back before you guys got together.

he pulls you up so you’re on his lap straddling him. he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, admiring your face before pressing a sloppy kiss on your kiss, one that you gladly return.

“what if i said ‘samu was here, right now, in our living room?”

an awkward silence fills the room. “w-what’s he here for, rin?” your pussy clenches around nothing, anticipating your boyfriend’s answer.

“to fuck you,” he tells you, as if it’s a completely normal turn of events, a cheeky smirk lining his lips. “what do you say, baby?”

wide-eyed, you stare at your boyfriend in disbelief. sure, you’d thought of osamu laying between your thighs before, tongue lapping at your clit and rough fingers pinching at your nipples, getting off to the thought of him fucking you until his name was all you knew. but now it’s different; ever since you got together with rin, all those fantasies were replaced by the actual man himself (not thinking of your silly little crush was easy when your boyfriend manages to fuck you silly in every position in any place you so desired).

sure, rin had known all along that it was way too easy for him to get you wet, just a few dirty words whispered into your ear and you’d turned into his obedient little girl. though now that you think about it, nothing compares to the thought of your own boyfriend watching his best friend making you cum. it has your aching pussy fluttering.

“b-but rin-” you hesitate, because why would you want anyone other than your boyfriend in that way?

“do it for me, yeah?” rin hums, caressing the side of your arms, kissing the goosebumps that sear your skin before pulling away to smirk at you, “i want to see how fast he can make you cum.”

and that’s how you find yourself situated between your boyfriend’s legs, back against his chest, your own legs spread out while his best friend’s head is between your thighs.

“how’s he doing, baby?” rin whispers in your ear, trailing kisses down from your ear to your neck, calloused hands exploring your body, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers, exactly how he knows you like it.

you open your mouth to answer him, but a strained moan is all that leaves your mouth as you arch your back feeling the warm muscle inside of you, exploring your cunt in a way you thought only rin could. “f-fuck, ‘samu,” you groan out as you feel him replace his tongue with two of his fingers, curling them so it hits your spot.

“i asked you a question, pretty girl,” your boyfriend reminds you, voice low and threatening.

“it f-feels so good, rin” you cry out, the pleasure building within you faster than it's ever been. you don't know if it's because of the fact that the man eating you out is the same man you’ve had a crush on or if it’s because of your boyfriend who was playing with your sensitive tits or because you were finally living your dream of being in the same bed with two very attractive men.

“hear that, ‘samu? she likes it.”

osamu pulls back, looking at your face before turning his gaze to your hole. “yeah, she tastes good too, now i see why you fuck her every day.”

your cheeks burn in embarrassment at the prospect that your boyfriend actually gushes about your sex life with his friends. just how much do they know? and what exactly did he tell osamu for him to agree to this?

the addition of another of his fingers distracts you from your thoughts, the stretch making tears form in your eyes. his fingers are thick, much thicker than rin’s, and he’s pumping them in and out with such urgency that your head is falling back against rin’s shoulder and your toes are curling from how good it feels, what more when coupled with the fact that his tongue licks through your swollen folds, before sucking on your clit just for him to hear that sweet moan of yours.

normally you’d be embarrassed by the lewd noises that your cunt is making, but it feels too good now, with osamu eating you out with expert ease and your boyfriend leaving marks against your neck which would undoubtedly stay there for days.

osamu pulls his tongue away and chuckles, picking up the pace with his fingers as he feels your pussy clenching around his fingers. he smirks at you, with rin easily tipping your chin so you face the man responsible for your trembling thighs. “you close, y/n? you’re getting so tight,” osamu comments, pushing your legs apart when you threaten to close them on instinct. you feel your face heating up when you realise the gray-haired man can’t keep his eyes off of your pussy. his eyes flick up to meet yours, “cum for me, sweetheart.”

“‘s-samu,” you moan, squirming from sensitivity, your hands finding their way where your boyfriend’s hands are, squeezing your tits to add to the stimulation. osamu quickens his pace, knowing you’re so close to your release.

“be a good girl and cum for ‘samu baby, i know you want to.” pressing his chest even closer to you. “if you do, i’ll reward you, yeah?”

you nod insistently, sanity about to leave you at any moment. “i’m cumming, ‘m cumming, ahh-”

osamu keeps your thighs spread, making sure he rides out your high with his fingers while his tongue continues lapping at your clit, aware that you’re overstimulating but doesn’t seem to be too bothered with it.

“‘samu- ah- ‘s too much-” you cry out, squirming as much as you can under the two strong men.

and after what seemed like an hour, osamu finally pulled back, stepping away to admire what he had done to you, lips covered in your slick, a satisfied smile tugging on his face.

“not bad, ‘samu, but not good enough,” you hear rin tell him.

he scoffs and shakes his head before unbuckling his belt and pushing down his pants and boxers. your eyes widen when his dick springs free from his pants - he’s big and thick.

“we’ll see about that, what about we see who can fuck and make her cum faster?”

#suna rintaro #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna smut #suna rintaro smut #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #osamu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x reader

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lebenspurpur · 3 years

Text

showering with the slashers

|Michael| (SFW)

You will need months to convince him to shower with you. He is surprisingly insecure and shy when it comes to nudity and especially taking off his mask. In the beginning he will even leave it on until he realizes that the steam plus the hot water are making it impossible to keep it on.

After he decides to join you he will ask for one every day. I mean he won't ask verbally he'll just stand in the bathroom when you shower until you invite him in.

Most of the time he will just place himself underneath the stream of water like a statue and let you shampoo his hair. If he's feeling generous, he will do the same for you and give you a little head massage. Michael will always use your soap since it smells like you but obviously this idiot won't ever admit that.

His favorite are showers in the evening because he adores laying in bed after a long, hot shower. Those are also one of the rare times where he actually allows cuddling.

|Vincent Sinclair| (SFW)

Vincent prefers bathing over showering. Though he won't say no to a shower.

It will definitely take him a while to gain the confidence to join you. In the beginning he'll turn his back towards you so you won't see his face. Show him love and appreciation and he might open up a little.

Vincent loves dealing with your hair. Obviously he has like 15 different hair products even though he rarely uses them. Now he can use them on you.

If you shampoo his hair he is in heaven. Imagine him underneath a stream of water lovingly gazing into your eyes while you softly trace his scalp with your fingertips. I love him, what can I say.

He will dry your hair himself and then gladly put lotion on your body. Such a sweetheart. Afterwards he likes cuddling while watching something together.

|Bo Sinclair| (NSFW)

You won't even notice when Bo enters the bathroom. He just suddenly stands behind you, arms wrapping around your upper body and his lips attached to your neck.

After a passionate make-out session he might wash your body. He likes to use his soap since that's a sign that you're his. As if the marks he leaves weren't enough.

Normally the shower is one of the rare places where he expresses his real emotions because nobody except for you will see them there. So expect lots of praising while his soapy, calloused hands trace your hips with such tenderness, you don't even recognize him.

Afterwards he'll either make you dirty again ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) or he'll lay on your chest, relaxing after a long day.

|Lester Sinclair| (SFW)

Yes Y/N, he'll gladly shower with you! He will take good care of you and that's a promise.

You'll always be glad when he showers with you since, let's be honest, he smells like rotten road kill. If your soft hands go over his scarred and exhausted body he cant' help but stare at you fondly.

I feel like Lester would try to make bubbles with soap in his hand. Or make a beard out of foam. He always tries to make you let out that adorable laugh of yours, what'd you expect?

After showering he'll wrap you up in his arms and tell you about his day. Whenever he chuckles about a funny memory a deep rumble can be felt in his chest. It never fails to make your heart grow warmer. As soon as you fall asleep he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and tucks you under the covers.

|Baby Firefly| (SFW)

Baby will always invite herself in the bathroom as soon as you're comfortable with that. Her soft hands will softly massage your shoulders and back and you can feel the knots and tight spots slowly relaxing.

But don't be foolish, she expects a massage as well. Baby values fairness so every action of her has a price. Not that you mind.

Baby's soap smells like cotton candy and fits her aesthetic wonderfully. Sometimes you'll steal a little bit for yourself.

I also believe that Baby likes to sing in the shower. According to my personal opinion one of Baby's big passions is music. Her sweet voice will be loud and clear and if you look at her she'll wink at you and smile.

After you're done she'll gladly let you brush her hair. Since the mane of hers often doesn't do what she wants it to do she gladly accepts help. If you put a hair product in her hair while softly clearing the knots she'll close her eyes while humming faintly.

|Otis Driftwood| (NSFW)

Otis is very similar to Bo when it comes to showering. Though he is also surprisingly shy. Not because of his body, more because of your feelings. Do you really want him in the shower?

After he gets over those thoughts he'll slip behind you every now and then, his big hands caressing your ass, scaring the shit out of you. If you shriek or jump he'll just chuckle and continue raking his hands over your naked form.

Even though he pretends like he doesn't like it, he loves if you wash his hair. Come on have you seen that mane? It needs some serious care and especially good conditioner. It's also dyed (I refuse to believe that his natural hair color is white.) so a good wash is long overdue.

Afterwards he'll gladly lay in bed with you while reading or discussing things. I believe that Otis also enjoys reading stories to his partner. After all you can discuss them with him later.

|Billy Loomis| (NSFW)

Are you kidding? Of course he'll shower with you!

His eyes plus hands will never leave your naked body, prepare for him just being horny. Yes Y/N, he'd love to put soap on your body. What do you mean not just on your chest and ass?

Eventually he'll grow tired of just looking at you. His hands will be all over your body soon, his lips attached to your chest leaving little marks.

If he's tired he'll oblige to your charm and wash your body without being naughty. Afterwards he'll just silently hold you close while the hot water engulfs both of you. I mean mostly him but his body will keep you warm.

|Stu Macher| (SFW)

Stu enjoys every activity he can do with you on his side.

He'll gladly massage your back, pressing little kisses to your shoulder plate. His hands will be so soft when they rub soap all over your wet form.

He loves when you try to wash him but fail because you're too small. He'll steal a kiss or two when you try and reach him by standing on your tip toes.

After all the cleaning is finished he will wrap his strong arms around you and press his chest against your back, humming fondly. He'll close his eyes and softly let the water flow over your connected bodies.

|Brahms Heelshire| (NSFW)

Brahms hates cleaning. No matter how. You will have to coax him into the shower by showering with him. It's really the only time when he ever showers.

Don't expect him to actually wash himself. You can do that Y/N. Such a malicious little gremlin. As soon as your hands touch him he'll put his head on your shoulder and start whispering very naughty things. Y/N you're torturing him, what is he supposed to do?

Okay so there might not be a lot of cleaning. If you really want him to be clean you will have to use a punishment or coax kind of strategy. No good night kiss for Brahms if he doesn't clean himself I guess. God he will be so whiny. Brahms is going to pout for days after this.

Afterwards he still wants your attention. Y/N wasn't he a good boy? He deserves a reward doesn't he?

|Josef| from the creep series (SFW)

Shower? With him? You really want that? Eh.. okay.

He'll be a bit insecure, Josef isn't used to receiving adoration. As soon as you start putting soap on his body he visibly relaxes and sighs softly. He loves being touched, yet he never asks for it.

Afterwards he'll always want to shower with you. Please just touch him some more.

Josef will happily return the favor. His touches will be very soft and tender, he doesn't want you to feel any kind of uncomfortable or scared.

After showering he will rub lotion on your warm skin, he wants it to be healthy Y/N!

Josef will also prepare a healthy meal. Food is important Y/N and god he loves cooking for you. His body in new clothes, smelling like aftershave, wet hair in a bun, singing quietly while he makes roasted vegetables. Please wrap your arms around his torso. He will nearly faint.

|Thomas Hewitt| (SFW)

It will take him a while, mainly because of the mask. However coaxing works quite good so he might give in after you bribe him a little.

Tommy is going to wash your hair very precisely, not wanting to cause knots. He knows how hot in can get in Texas as well which leads him to move away from the refreshing water, leaving you more space. He's just very considerate, compared to other slashers (ehem, Bo.).

Please wash his hair, he'd feel so special. Especially if it's your own shampoo.

After showering he'll wrap you in his strong arms and nuzzle his face in your neck, mask off. Do whatever you want Y/N, he's just glad he can lay next to you right now.

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diamond-coral · 3 years

Text

A Game

Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?

Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!

As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.

“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.

“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.

You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke.

“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.

“Of course, sir.”

“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.

“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”

“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”

“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.

“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”

You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.

Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.

You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.

The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview. Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.

You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.

You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.

“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”

The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.

You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.

“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.

“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”

“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.

“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.

“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes.

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”

He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.

“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”

“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”

Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.

All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.

Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.

“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”

The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.

When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.

“You’re on the clock.”

At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.

But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.

“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.

You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.

“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.

Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.

“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”

Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.

“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.

“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”

You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.

“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”

Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.

“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.

“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”

“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.

You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please dont,” you croaked.

Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.

“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.

Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?”

He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).

“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.

Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.

Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.

“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.

You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.

Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.

Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.

Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.

You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.

Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.

“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.

“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.

“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.

“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.

You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?”

It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.

That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.

“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”

Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.

“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”

She began unbuttoning her pants.

“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”

#sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #thor x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!sam wilson #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!natasha x reader #dark!sam wilson x reader #dark!thor #dark!steve smut

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spice-chan · 3 years

Text

Ethereal

Yan!Dragon King!Bakugou Katsuki x Water Nymph!f!reader

The water nymphs send an unusual peace offering this year...

Warnings: Reader sent as a peace offering so feelings of objectification are present. Yandere themes. Possessiveness. Yandere bakugou but only becomes outwardly yandere towards the end. Death (killing). Not too descriptive about wounds though, although they are mentioned (not inflicted on reader). Bakugou is a bit of a douchebag at the start.

wordcount: 4.5 k

tags: @angie-1306 (your ask got deleted but thank god you werent on anon) @axther @reddriot

A bundled-up body was dropped under his throne, the body writhing and trying to get muffled screams to be heard.

“My king, the water nymphs made a peace offering. She was dropped off in front of the castle entrance.”

Bakugou’s rich red eyes calculatedly glanced down, breath hitching for a second at the beauty of the roped female—a water nymph. An offering to him. His eyes made contact with yours, seeing the clear defiance and disdain in them, but he knows this look, behind made walls of resistance and will of steel is a petrified woman afraid of her fate. How unfortunate for you. Your eyes were wide and glassy, cute in their attempt at conveying anger, brows furrowed in a glare that merely made Bakugou smirk in amusement. Your mouth, even with the rope muffling every sound you made, clearly showcased a pair of sweet and kissable lips.

The nymphs who sacrificed you did you no favour as well, for they left you scantily dressed, leaving you exposed to the hungry eyes of dragons around you, irking Bakugou slightly that others are looking at his prize.

He left his throne, languidly walking up to you before crouching down to inspect you, to see what’s so special about you. The water nymphs never usually offered one of their own in their attempt at maintaining neutral peace. This ritual which they adopted since ancient times became nothing more than a nicety, they usually offered rare fish, nuts, never a full-fledged nymph, and an attractive one at that. Perhaps the fact that Bakugou, the most renowned dragon shifter finally claimed the throne made them feel unsettled. For his savage and bloodthirsty need to be the absolute best was second to none.

His calloused palms took a hold of your face, ignoring your attempts at deflecting his hold as his massive palm dwarfed your face and made it plenty clear he can easily crush you. He inspected your face from different angles, seeing nothing extraordinary. He took this opportunity to feel up your soft skin which had been tempting him ever since he noticed you laying helplessly on the floor. He then confirmed the validity of the rumours that claimed water nymphs had skin supple and silky as water. It felt like he was running his finger across the surface of a ripple, a mere dip of his finger could breach the surface.

Heh, you’re kinda pretty. So very different from draconian women, who had thick builds paired with excellent survival skills and shifting abilities, but you...he bets it was so easy to overpower you and wrap you up nicely for him to unpack his gift.

He lifts you, his muscles bulging and tensing, proving that carrying you was not a struggle to him in the slightest.

He ignores your useless thrashing, kicking and resisting like a wild bird held in a tyrant's hand. Its wings contained and nails not doing any damage, freedom seeming further and further away. He walks with you on his shoulders, his massive, hulking shoulders.

Soon enough, the rowdy chatter of the men becomes scarce, and their figures even more so, making you double your efforts in trying to escape the tyrant lumping you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Tsk, keep bein’ a brat and I’ll have to tie your shitty hands.” He turned his head to look at you as he said this, cementing his statement with a fiery glare that only infuriated you further.

He ignored any protest you made after that, walking with you and entering a wing that looked to be heaven-sent from the sheer luxury, gold highlights emphasized in every corner, treasures and artefacts littered around the corridor in a painfully tidy and organised to the very centimetre, clearly they got shined twice a day. However, the further he ventured, the more the previous shine lost its glory, it appeared clean, however, the stark contrast to the speckless shine from before was clear.

Bakugou stopped in front of the grandest door, he twisted the golden doorknob, finally appreciating your quietness. You couldn’t help it, you weren’t particularly rich back home, so to see this reincarnation of decadence really has your eyes glassing, bright in some semblance of joy, you forgot your situation for a second.

You were rudely reminded when you were dumped down on a hard surface.

“OUCH, YOU ASSHOLE.”

When you looked down, however, every profanity disappeared from your tongue as it twisted in awe. You were thrown on a pile of fucking treasure. A huge, mountainous pile of glittering gold and brandished silver, rubies, and every single gem one could imagine.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, scowling at how much he liked the view of you on top of his hoard. He smirked, feeling prideful and accomplished until he noticed that the walls of fury and fire you built up ever since he saw broke in the worst way possible. Your face was scrunched, it felt like your cheeks were lit aflame in humiliation as tears streaked down your adorable face.

Bakugou felt like the biggest douchebag to walk the earth.

You brought your knees closer and hid your face behind them, body shaking as you sobbed. Your tribe sent you as a peace offering, not caring for the slightest about your well being and fate, and now you're stuck here with a brute of a king who has no qualms with treating you like a glorified piece of jewellery. You didn’t want him to see this side of you this soon, you didn’t want him to see how petrified you are, how weak and defenceless you are compared to him. You wanted to rivers of anguish gushing from your eyes to stop, but they wouldn’t.

“Hey…” he tried to console you. It was a poor attempt from an unpractised dragon.

You tried to speak, navigate around that lump in your throat to shout at him, tell him to leave you alone, but your voice failed you just like everything tends to.

You felt him clumsily try to lift your head in a gesture that fell between a forceful demand and a soothing touch. What is up with him now?

You relented and showed him your puffy eyes, glistening eyes, looking at him with trembling lips.

“Tch, stop crying! You—you’ll get snot and tears all over my hoard.”

It was the wrong thing to say, because a fresh batch of tears came, staining the apples of your cheeks.

“Fuck—no. I didn’t mean that.” Your sniffling was reduced to mere hiccups, break down halting at the sight of the most feared man on the earth, the legendary dragon king bakugou, most hardened warrior and skilled shifter, attempting to apologise.

“Shit—I wouldn’t have to be so rough if I knew it bothered you this much.” He pouted, cheeks turning a shade of red that seems almost adorable, turning away from you to scowl at the floor.

Fuck, his mother taught him better, yet the sight of you made him forget any semblance of manners, eager to get his hands on you and away from the prying eyes of people to who you didn’t belong.

An innate sense of possessiveness engulfed him, one that can only be appeased with you sitting on the one place most intimate and guarded by him: his hoard.

But, he’ll tone it down until he gets you more pliant and accepting.

“Stay where you are.” He simply commanded before walking off.

You stayed there, mind urging you to run away, a foolish choice your pride keeps urging you to make. Runaway, in a castle heavily guarded, without having the slightest clue how to get to the exit.

Yeah, bad idea. You’re sure you aren’t welcome back ‘home’ anyway. The thought feels like a sharp dagger slicing your heart, taking its time carving the pain into you.

Soon enough, Bakugou is back, trying to tone down his intimidating aura, but to no avail, for he noticed you shrinking at the sight of his hulking figure. It stung him a little, making his frown a little tighter.

“Come with me,” he said curtly, then walked swiftly out, his cape swishing behind him, making you scramble to follow him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps, frustration slowly rising like bile up your throat and making it harder to stay silent and compliant.

He took you out of the castle, ignoring the curious looks to the best of his ability, but before he could step a foot outside the gate, he grits his teeth in anger and took off his cape. He bundled you in it and lifted you, once again, like a sack of potatoes. But you were too busy feeling like you were lit on fire as you realised that you were walking around in the outfit you were donned in or lack thereof. You buried your face in the fabric, unintentionally making a sound that’s caught between a groan and a whimper.

He walked behind the castle, climbing places with you on his back until he got to where he needed to be

When you arrived, however, you are almost glad you didn’t voice your woos. The sight before you was breathtaking, so much so that your previous plights evaporated even if for a minute.

The scenery was breathtaking, it was a cave, and in the corner, if it was a treasure pile, except merely saying it's a pile was an understatement as it was a mountain in its own right. The hoard you saw back at the castle was incomparable. But that’s not what truly captured you. As he led you further in, you realised the true purpose of this journey.

There was a medium-sized pool, wide enough to fit comfortably in the cave without hogging up all the space, but deep enough that even Bakugou with his stature could enjoy a swim in it. It was clear too, so clear you felt like you could dip your leg in it and see through your very own flesh, that it would make your skin translucent. It was a shade of blue one could only dream of seeing, and after doing so would live their life content.

Perhaps you were biased, seeing that it’s in your very nature as a water nymph to be needing close contact with water, and to be enamoured with it.

All rationale left you though, needing for the water to cleanse you of all your stress and pain, and so bakugou’s cape slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor, your figure leaving it behind as you approached the water and slipped inside. You felt a rush of dopamine override all the negativity inside of you, feeling the water hug you, surround you, shield you.

“So it's true, huh?”

You almost forgot he was here, but Bakugou didn’t forget about you, not even for a second. He was watching you, fascination swirling in his pupils as your expression melted to one of near happiness, heart lurching with every cute expression you made, that *he* caused.

“What is?” You replied, turning in the water to face him.

“That water nymphs live such carefree lives because they spend them inside ponds and lakes.”

You scrunch your nose at that, unable to fathom the exact meaning of his words but having an idea. “We don’t live carefree lives. Not all are given that luxury, at least not me.” You said, giving him a once over with a glare to signify that he’s the problem. He’s the root cause of your misery, Bakugou doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s quite unfortunate really.

He shrugs his shoulders and reverts to his default face, feigning nonchalance.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like much goes on in your ditzy head.”

You felt your face warm, could very well hear the aggressive thrumming of your blood as you gritted your teeth in anger. And you were about to unleash the full force of your fury until you heard wings flapping outside.

You turned your head, trying to take a glance at the disturbance, but your view was shielded by Bakugou, who moved unnaturally fast for someone who made it clear how nothing phases him. And not fast enough for you to think it’s a real threat.

He came back moments later with an attire you regretfully recognized.

No, scratch that, he brought several. Pale, light flowy dresses that are often worn by your people. Light enough that they wouldn’t mind an occasional soak in water.

Your anger dissipated, melting into confusion, then quickly becoming embarrassment as you realised you were comfortably standing in front of him in your underwear.

You should feel happy, but bile rose up your throat, the taste of humiliation clear on your tongue as you realised with distaste that he was indeed right, you did live carefreely. You also realised you won’t be able to live like that ever again, and that very realisation brought tears to your eyes once again.

“Tch, just take one and wear it. I don’t need you crying again.”

Your face fell, and Bakugou felt his heart twinge a little when you responded with silence, looking at your sad face made him feel oddly protective. It’s probably because you were his treasure. Like his hoard right? He always needs his treasure to be kept in optimum conditions.

Having justified that to himself, he didn’t feel as weird now regarding what he was about to do.

While you changed into one of the outfits he got you, he dug through his hoard, knowing exactly what item he wanted to dig out. His fingers slithered through countless gold pieces, shining enough to cure a greedy man’s blindness. He finally found it, a delicate golden chain, but what demands attention is the ruby hanging from it. He brings a thumb to it, rubbing the rock appreciatively, liking the semblance of the colour to his eyes.

You coughed, signaling you you were done, snapping away his wondrous gaze from the necklace.

You looked really pretty in the dress, he’s got to thank Kiri for the speed run to the shops that he did. The light material hugs your skin, looking stretchy, yet form fitting that it hugged your body in a way that made Bakugou jealous.

You looked in your element now, but somehow the awkwardness still lingered in the air as you avoided his gaze.

Bakugo didn’t try to be subtle when checking you out, in his eyes, you were *his* whether or not that’s what he chose so he can at least check what he has right?

Bakugou didn’t pay heed to the slow spiral of his morals, of the things he worked so hard to uphold. His justifications were slowly manifesting into delusions.

He approached you, ignoring the way you tensed when he went behind you, turning around to question him, but he was quickly done. Your eyes caught the glistening red ruby hanging from your neck, the colour rich and deep like red wine. You didn’t hate it, but confusion swirled in your veins at his actions.

“Looks good on you.” The colour looks like my eyes, it reminds me that you’re mine.

Bakugo wasn’t sure why he held off on telling you what’s on his mind, he usually doesn’t hesitate once to tell the truth.

Your wide, glittery eyes stared up at him, trying but failing to hide their awe. The anger and resentment took a backseat to intrigue, so did he pick this out for you because he thought it would look nice on you? How strange of him.

He lifted a calloused finger up, face now cleared and relaxed that he looked pretty, not intimidating, not barbaric, but pretty. He caressed your cheek, smiling slightly when he felt how warm it was. It slipped off his face all too soon when he took the reins back. He squished your cheek, lips once again taking the shape of a sadistic smile.

“You look dumb”

Your features hardened, gaze narrowed in anger and hatred that it made Bakugou surprised. Surprised by how much he hated it, or by the sheer intensity? He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts though, because a dainty hand flew his way and slapped his hand away.

“You-“ you nearly growled in anger, tears once again coating your eyes because of him. “You rude, barbaric, selfish, egoistical “jerk!” You shouted at him. Why were you this angry?

“Just when I think you might be a decent person.” You rub furiously at your eyes, shoulders slouched in disappointment as you disappeared deeper into the cave and out of his sight. You were always so naive and easy to fool.

Bakugou felt the full weight of your words weighing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off. He walked out, silently brooding with his thoughts until a servant came and delivered dinner.

He stood up, walking to you with tje food in his arms, hoping he could butter you up with it. He found you in the deepest part of the cave, face hidden behind your knees, unmoving.

You were sleeping.

He set the food down, bending down to try and confirm his observation, only for a remorse to hit him like a truckload after he saw the semi dried tear tracks. He didn’t have to be that mean to you. Maybe his dragon subjects can handle it because they have thicker skin, naturally, and they’re used to him. But you were just thrust into his life today and he’d been laying it thick on you. He’s coming to terms with his attraction to you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

He nudged your shoulder, not wanting to test his voice right now, afraid it might be too gentle.

You stirred awake, your face relaxed and serene as you blinked blearily.

“Hm?” You rubbed your eyes, looking at your surroundings with confusion. Your eyes were red.

He wondered how much you cried.

He mumbled something unintelligible, you turned your gaze to him, the sleepiness now almost all gone.

“What? I can’t hear you.” Your tone was sharp and cutting, and your gaze, now devoid of all confusion, was similarly icy.

“‘didn’t mean to make ya’ cry.” You nearly believed him, nearly.

“What’s this? Another act to make me lower my guard? Well you don’t need to, I’m at your mercy. You can skip the pleasantries and just laugh at how pathetic I am.”

He stared at the floor, well, *glared*.

“You’re not pathetic.” He simply said, glaring at you in a way that dared you to challenge him”-and I’m not going to laugh at you.”

He could speculate about his feelings all day, drown in this euphoria of infatuation, hate you for making him weak but one thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to hate him. He wants your eyes to look at him in wonder again, to admire him and fill him with endless pride, to maybe smile at him, he hasn’t seen you smile yet but he bets it’ll be gorgeous.

It’s only because he wants his treasure to be in optimum condition, nothing more, nothing less.

“Then why do you go out of your way to demean me?” You questioned accusingly.

“I don’t, that’s just how I am, you’re going to have to accept it because you’re not going anywhere.” Dread filled you, knowing your days would be filled with humiliation, mocking words echoing in your head like an endless loop.

You stayed silent, accepting your fate because what else could you do? At least you got your greatest companion to keep away the loneliness; water. He once again waited for a response that never came, and he stood up with a sigh, stretching his limbs.

“Just eat your food. I guarantee you’ll like it.”

He said, hanging his cape around him once again, reminding you just who he is, making it flutter behind him as he left you all alone.

He was back early the next day, he found you asleep inside the pool, your head resting on your folded hands on the ledge. The sight had his worry spike so much that a vein was visible on his forehead. He woke you up and scolded you.

And then he proceeds to lay food in front of you, climbing up to sit on top of his hoard to watch you while you eat, not minding the fact that his gaze was sealed on you for minutes, nor the fact that at some point you scolded him for making you uncomfortable.

You didn’t like the glint in his eyes.

In the afternoon he was back with blankets, pillows and other gifts, hoping to sooth the raging waves of your ire. Trying to convince you that he isn’t that bad.

After a while, his daily visits, gifts…reluctant kindness was all you knew. You were starting to let the memories of your home slip, you were accepting the fact that the previous bonds you forged were inevitably breaking. You were accepting the fact that you’re now stuck in a cave as glorified treasure.

And it showed, the sadness on your face would linger, numbness in your tone. Even the water was suffocating.

“CAN YOU STOP ACTING SOULLESS?” And Bakugou eventually couldn’t take it anymore.

You turned to him, no longer was there a fire raging in your eyes. He’s losing the girl he met in his throne room on a fateful day. He no longer cares whether he has to bare his raw feelings to you, the intimidate, gushy, soft, mushy feelings he feels every time he sees you. He wants to hold you everyday, not like you’re an exotic treasure, *but his* treasure. He wants you have his hatchlings with you, and he wants to see you smile at him.

“Why should I?” You replied with dullness, not particularly moved.

“Because…” he looked constipated, his lips clamped together while his cheeks were dusted a cherry red.

“Because?” You didn’t get it. You’re just like a piece of jewelry right? Why does it matter if you become quiet and compliant?

“Because I love you.” He said softly, too softly for someone who looks as rugged and rough as him. Now that broke your composure. Your eyes widened, surprise painting your features as the dragon king Bakugou Katsuki just confessed to you. The greatest soldier in the land, the most terrifying shifter.

He cupped your cheeks, softly stroking the skin, appreciating the soft texture against his scarred hand. His face was so red, even his ears but he was smiling. He was smiling so hard that you wondered whether this was the same person. “I love you, I want you to be happy.” He said, now louder, prouder and more confident in his honeyed words.

You slapped his hand away.

“I don’t believe you.” You cruelly stomped on his confession, making his smile fall.

“But why? Have I not treated you well? I’ve never cared about someone as much as you”

“Prove you love me.” You challenged, staring him in the eye before adding.

“I’m pretty sure you can’t though.”

You turned around and walked away from him, but he decided that wasn’t the end of the conversation and he grabbed your wrist.

“How?!” Frustration was evident in his voice, but so was desperation. He was genuine about wanting to prove his love to you, what would people think if they saw the great dragon king behaving like this over a woman?

You ripped yourself from his hold and spat “figure it out.”

He came back at the dead of night, grunting, laughing and calling your name. You stirred from slumber, eyes fluttering open and peaking out from the blanket you cocooned yourself in. Yoy felt a hand brushing the hair away from your face, lips pressing to your forehead before the fog cleared away to reveal a bloodied Bakugou.

You screamed, scrambling to move away from him, but he held you back, keeping your supine form in place. With his arms on either side of you, not only holding your arms in place but also supporting his weight above you as he stared down at you like some sort of predator.

He laughed heartily, and if he wasn’t drenched in blood you’d find it kind of cute.

“What? Ya’ scared of a little blood? That’s cute.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, asking shakily whose blood it is.

His eyebrows rose, humming at your question before a cocky smirk took over.

“You’ll see. This will show you for sure that I love your bratty ass.” He got off you, walking towards the entrance of the cave, dragging a lifeless figure with him before discarding it carelessly in front of you.

It was the chief of water nymphs. Her old and withered frame looked pale and lifeless, yet brutal gashes littered her body.

“She was the one who sent you here, right?”

You wordlessly nodded, eyes glued to the corpse in front of you.

“I couldn’t set you free, ‘cuz I loved you, I won’t stand to have you around. But she hurt you a lot didn’t she? If she didn’t send you here as simply a peace offering, I would have found my way to you eventually and fell in love with you anyway. I don’t keep you because you’re another treasure on my hoard.” Despite the flaw in his justifications, his manic ramblings and his lovesick eyes, you weren’t repulsed, you weren’t mourning the death of the monster who sent you as a peace offering for objecting to her new rules.

No. Maybe you’re as fucked up as he is, but in a moment of pettiness, you turned to him and smiled.

You weren’t sure whether the redness on his cheeks were blood or a blush. But his eyes were looking at you like you were a miracle, a shining star, it’s like he had heart for eyes but who can blame him? Who can blame the wild thumping of his heart, that’s hammering against his ribcage like a woodpecker does to a tree? He finally got to see you smile.

“Do you believe me now?” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes looking misty, glistening like the ruby on your neck.

“I do, Katsuki.” You replied, letting your eyes hold his own as you also moved closer to him, cupping his cheek, hand tangling in his surprisingly soft hair.

He was mesmerised, breath lost at your soft touch. The only physical contact he’s had before was when he was out in the field slaughtering enemies, hurting, grabbing. Not being caressed, because that’s soft and he’s never done soft until he met you.

You pecked him softly, lovingly. But you soon moved towards his ear, whispering carelessly.

“You know this could cause war with the forest creatures, right? You broke a centuries long treaty.”

He growled, giving you a bloodied grin. “Whatever those shitty extras throw at me, I can handle it. They wouldn’t pick a fight with me if they are smart.”

You squeezed his bicep, marvelling at how hard it was, he’s not infamous for nothing.

Is that all it takes to win you over?

You looked down at the chief, or ex-chief. You could still remember her cold, cruel grin as she saddled you up, to make an example out of you. No one questions her rule, no one has the right to, even if she endangers them, even if she takes the land that they always freely enjoyed.

Yeah, maybe that’s enough, you believed him. Or maybe you’re picking your own poison.

#bnha #bnha scenarios #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere katsuki #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere bnha #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha fanfiction

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bakubro0 · 3 years

Text

Leave the window open - Deku

Note: I wanted to do something similar with the manga. hope you like it!

pairing: Izuku Midoriya (Deku) x Reader

warnings/tags: not sfw, minors dni, slight degradation, aged up!Deku, unprotected sex, very slight exibicionism, v slight sonophilia (just deku touchin' the reader's hair, face and arm while asleep and lookin' her body).

You’re asleep when Izuku comes into your room.

He never comes from the front door. Like a ghost he sneaks through the shadows and enters through your window. Sometimes the green rays briefly illuminate the stain he is against the dark sky.

Knowing that your boyfriend is something close to a hero of the shadows, exiled and estranged from everyone, you always keep the window open at night, so he can approach easily.

He always complains and says it's too dangerous to leave the window open, but you ignore that. Seeing him is already hard enough. You always do your best to make it at least a little easier for the two of you.

This time is no different.

When Izuku easily balances on the windowsill and enters your room, the only light there is from the yellow blinkers that are attached to the headboard of your bed. You texted him earlier and asked him to come see you but got no response.

Izuku pulls back the mask he’s wearing and sighs when he sees you, so beautiful, asleep. You have the habit of sleeping on top of the blankets sometimes and he smiles when he realizes that you only wear a big T-shirt - his T-shirt.

Pulling off one of the gloves, Izuku frees his own hand so he can feel your skin. He touches you carefully, like you were made of glass. And it could be — anything could be glass in his calloused, strong hands. Izuku can take down any wall, defeat any villain.

You are fragile compared to him. It's like a porcelain doll, perfect, so delicate.

His free hand wanders over your face; he takes a lock of your hair out your face and tucks it behind your ear. He couldn't help but let his fingertips caress your arms and the fabric of his shirt.

Izuku lets his own green eyes watch you with curiosity and a slight desire; your smooth legs and breasts bulging against his shirt are suddenly more than just a sight for him.

You’re the only good thing in this world, he thinks.

He watches you for a little longer; lets his thumb play with your hair as he listens to your breathing. Izuku finally convinces himself that it's best to let you sleep; he gets up from the end of the bed he was sitting on and that's when you mumble something.

“Oh, did I woke up my doll?” he asks in a sweet voice, his eyes shining when you blink.

“You really came!” you exclaim happily and quickly sit down to hug him. Izuku looks surprised by the contact, as usual.

Away from everyone and everything he knows, fighting villains and facing danger all the time, a touch like yours is unusual. Every few times he can be with you is like that - like you’re caressing him for the first time.

"I got the message just now," he mutters against your hair and lets you rest against his chest. “I didn't meant to wake you up-”

“No problem” you shake a hand. “I didn't think you were coming. I'm happy to see you.”

“I'm always happy to see you” he whispers and cups your face with one hand. The tone in his voice is almost strange, not that common of his nature. He's frustrated about something, you know that. But there are so many things he can be frustrated and angry about that you have no idea where to start.

When Izuku's lips meet yours, a heavy kiss begins in seconds. He holds you possessively, his arms against your waist, one hand quickly pressing your body against his.

You moan softly against his mouth, your hands gripping the collar of his hero uniform. It's a threadbare uniform, quite different from what he used to wear in the past. But you don't care about that or anything else when you pull him towards you, opening your legs so his heavy body has room to lie there.

“What’s this, huh? Did I made you horny that fast?” he asks against your neck as he kisses it, teeth marking your skin. “Your parents are right in the next room, silly girl. We can’t-”

“We can… We can be silent!” you said quickly, eager for the touch of rough hands against your delicate skin.

And that wish is shared by Izuku as well. He wants to ruin you; wants to make you whimper his name, hear you say you can't take him - and still ask for more.

“Do you want it?” he asks hoarsely in your ear and presses his own erection against your thigh. Before you can respond, a rough kiss is dropped against your lips.

He sighs against your tongue as he feels how soaked your panties are. Your hands try to go down his torso, but Izuku is quick to stop them.

“Leave your hands on the headboard,” he says in a soft but dangerously authoritative whisper. As if his voice were a velvet-covered knife, you know perfectly well how dominant and vicious he can be when he wants to. “It's so wet. You shouldn't be so excited to do this when your parents can hear you, love.”

“Iz-zuku” you sigh when you feel his rough movements against your clit, his fingertips threatening to penetrate you.

“Tell me what you want... Just tell me and I'll give it to you” he promises and you unconsciously move your hips, looking for the sensation of his warm hands. “Say it, c’mon. You can use that pretty mouth for something, can't you?”

Your head shakes, but Izuku won't let you speak. He pushes two of the fingers that were previously being rubbed against your entrance into your mouth and watches with a satisfied smile as you obediently suck on them. Izuku continues, deeper and deeper, making you choke at times.

Your hips continued to move slowly, trying to seek some relief with the light friction against one of his thighs. This sight makes Izuku laugh and shake his head as if he’s mocking you.

"You're acting like a little bitch in heat," he says against your ear and your eyes roll back. Izuku removes his fingers from your mouth and takes them straight to the zipper of his own clothes, pulling it down to the volume that was formed by his erection. He lets his own cock free, the pink tip pressed against your panties.

You whine at the contact; it's almost an instinct when your hands leave the headboard and pull your panties aside.

“Please!” you sigh as you lift your hips in an almost desperate way. “Please, please, please, Deku!”

That single word makes him grunt. Izuku can’t hold back when you call him by his hero name. It fills his ego, feels so good he can't say anything else - Izuku thrusts his hips against you, filling you up.

You let out a moan and he lifts his free hand, still covered by a glove, to cover your mouth. You want to beg him, you want to tell him how good his deep movements are, but he won't let you.

Izuku is completely lost in how your body feels against his. The way your body reacts to his, how you can barely handle half his dick without whining pathetically, "It's too much, Deku."

"I don't care, take it" he growled against your neck. His pace is amazing, almost brutal. It makes the bed shake and for a moment you almost forget that your parents are sleeping in the next room and don't know that your boyfriend sneaks in through your window.

Izuku guides his free hand to the most sensitive point between your legs, touching it slowly while forcing his own cock deeper and deeper inside you. You can't even tell you're close to coming - the sensation washes over you and makes your back arch and you hear Izuku moaning as he pulls his own cock out and watches him come over your belly with a heavy groan.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to catch your breath as you feel Izuku's sweet, warm kisses against your cheeks.

“Open your eyes for me, love” he asks and when you do, a beaming smile from Izuku surprises you. “I'm not done with you yet.”

#bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #mha #mha smut #mha imagines #mha deku #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #bnha smut #izuku smut #izuku x reader #deku x reader #eng vers #requests open

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

A Hell of a Good Start

Pairing: Kageyama x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Fluff and Smut, Insecure reader, Kageyama is a socially awkward sweetheart

Summary: It's hard not to feel self-conscious when your boyfriend is arguably one of Japan's most attractive professional athletes. But Kageyama is there to prove that there's absolutely nothing for you to be insecure about.

A/N: Dedicating this to @shoyokuns for all the bullying I've put her through since April Fool's 🤣😘

It was only hours after the handsome dark haired man stuttered out some words and chucked a canned latte in your hands, shoving a crumpled piece of paper in your hands, that you realized you had been asked out. And even then you could hardly believe your eyes as you stared at the numerical digits and name scrawled across the receipt.

Kageyama Tobio

He’s a regular at your cafe and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken notice of him. How could you not when he towers above most other Japanese citizens, striking blue eyes and muscular body attracting the attention of many others than just yourself. And if his physical appearance alone wasn’t enough for him to stand out, his usual order definitely would have definitely seared itself into your mind as unusual.

When you had first seen the scowl that seemed to be glued on his face, you had been ready to just pour a hot cup of black coffee. So imagine your surprise when he orders the sweetest latte on the menu, requesting extra milk despite the fact that the white liquid already makes up most of said drink. But oddly it makes sense as he shyly mutters a thank you in a low gruff voice and you realize that he’s just been cursed by a bad case of RBF.

It just makes sense to start having longer small talks and conversations with him, considering how you see him everyday, and although it’s usually fairly one-sided, with little nods of affirmation and grunts of acknowledgement from your customer, you find yourself enjoying his company.

You’ve always been told you’re too nosy and curious for your own good, but one day you can’t help but ask about the sports duffel he carries with him all the time, blinking with wide eyes and shaking your head side to side when he gapes at you, incredulously asking you if you really don’t recognize the team name or logo. The two of you once again have a one-sided conversation, but this time it’s you silently listening and learning, staring at him in amazed amusement as he rambles on and on about volleyball and the Schweiden Adlers. And maybe, just maybe, you can feel a little flutter in your heart as you listen to him go on and on, passion and love evident in his gleaming eyes.

Sports have never been a big part of your life, but you find yourself leaving the volleyball channel on in the background whenever you’re home after that encounter, almost tripping over yourself to get to your couch when you hear Kageyama’s name announced on television, jaw dropping in disbelief when you see ad after ad of reputable companies and famous products using him to market their goods. Turns out your new acquaintance is a much much bigger deal than you had thought.

You tell yourself that what you feel for him is just a little work crush, just a temporary thing that will fade away over time. But it doesn’t, only getting stronger as he begins to open up, beaming in excitement when you shyly tell him you watched some of his matches on TV and although you don’t really understand the sport, you think he looked pretty amazing on the court. It’s easy to believe and hope that it’s mutual interest, when it’s just the two of you alone in that small cafe, but every time you see his face in magazines and billboards across the city, reality sinks in, and you shove your feelings deep down. What could a professional athlete possibly see in you?

A lot more than you had thought, you realize, as you shakily save the digits to your phone, praying to anyone who’s listening that this isn’t just a cruel prank when you press the call button, almost dropping your device in relieved surprise when a familiar voice greets you over the line.

The rest is history as you begin to attend his matches in person and are officially introduced to his teammate, Ushijima Wakatoshi, leaving you wondering if social awkwardness is contagious, but heart warming from your first video chat with Hinata Shoyo, your boyfriend’s best friend, although Kageyama would rather have a ball spiked to his head before ever referring to the orange-haired athlete as such.

Your relationship is sweet, albeit chaotic at times as both of you learn the ropes of dating each other. It never ceases to amaze you that despite how fiery and commanding your lover is on the court, he’s truly a lost puppy just trying to do his best in your dating life. Thank God for how genuine and pure his intentions are, how he never leaves you in doubt about how much he loves and cares for you, even if his actions and words don’t always portray it. And you let out a fond yet exasperated chuckle every time he puts his foot in his mouth around you, giggling in amusement when he immediately tries to backtrack, stuttering and tripping over his words as he tries to apologize and retry wording his compliments and concerns.

But unlike his social mishaps, his physical aptitude seems to stretch farther than just the court and you’re left a flustered mess when calloused hands so naturally find themselves interlaced with yours, when a broad chest is pulling you in for a hug almost like second nature. There’s not a single bit of hesitation or timidness as he holds you close, easily burying his face and nose in the crook of your neck, finding comfort in your presence. And this time it’s him who leads the charge as soothing affectionate caresses become more intimate and sensual, until you’re tumbling into bed with him one night.

Kageyama doesn’t have a ton of experience, but what he lacks in that department, he more than makes up for with natural instincts and sharp calculating eyes. It’s almost unreal how attune he is to every little sound and movement you make, discovering places inside and outside of you that even you didn’t know could make you react so viscerally. But you’re thankful for his naivety, thankful he never thinks to question why you always insist on keeping the lights off, why you always distract him when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, why you always position yourself so that your stomach and face are turned away from him as he takes you from behind.

It’s hard not to be insecure about your body when you’re around a professional athlete like Kageyama and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it other than to make sure you’re staying healthy when he questions what you eat, know that he loves how you look regardless of the fact that you’re nowhere near as in shape as he is. But when you see the pretty fangirls who fawn over your boyfriend, when you see the gorgeous models he poses with in advertisements, it’s impossible not to compare. And when the both of you are naked and you see his rippling muscles and Adonis-like figure, all your self-doubts bubble to the surface, boiling and burning you in their wake.

He thinks these things are just your preference and he wants nothing more than to make sure you feel as comfortable and good as possible, so he follows your lead, hands immediately shying away from your shirt when you bring his hands to grope your breasts from over the fabric and ignoring the pout playing on his lips when he can’t see you as clearly as he wants in the dim lighting.

But when he begins to practice with the Japan national team, quietly sipping on his own drink as his teammates get drunk and rowdy at a team happy hour one night, he furrows his brows questioningly as Atsumu and Bokuto ramble on about their sex lives. It’s no surprise to anyone, himself included, that Atsumu prefers it wild in bed, testing out and experimenting with different positions. But what does surprise him is when Bokuto emphatically shakes his head and excitedly rants about how underrated good old vanilla missionary sex is, how there’s something so intimate and beautiful about being able to stare into each other’s eyes as you make love to each other, only to be lightheartedly jeered at and teased for being a romantic by some members of the team.

Yet Kageyama doesn’t pay them any mind, too focused on trying to piece together this new piece of information he’s learned. Missionary? Looking at each other’s faces? Romantic? Intimate? He had assumed that it wasn’t something people liked. You certainly didn’t seem to enjoy the position or eye contact during sex in general. But Bokuto’s eyes had literally sparkled as he had shouted about it and you had always fondly told Kageyama in secret what a romantic sap the owl-like man is. Had he been reading your signals and body language wrong all this time? Were you not enjoying the intimate nights you spent together?

No, that can’t be true and he flushes a bit, remembering your pretty whimpers and lewd moans he’d dragged out of you, the screaming of his name as your body convulsed around him. No, you have been feeling good. He does make you feel good! But then why...why does it feel like he’s missing something?

He’s never been subtle and it’s obvious he’s still deep in thought when he retires to his shared hotel room with Iwaizumi. The green-eyed trainer stares at the setter curiously, unsure whether or not to directly question Kageyama about what’s bothering him. They’ve become much closer ever since reconnecting on the national team and Iwaizumi is fond of the younger man, despite Oikawa’s squawking and whining whenever he even hears the ex-Karasuno setter’s name. But despite their new blossoming friendship, some things don’t change. Kageyama and Iwaizumi have always erred on the more reserved side of the social scale, so the spiky haired ex-ace resigns to stay silent, allowing the setter to come to him as he wishes.

Except Kageyama approaches much sooner than he thought he would and Iwaizumi is stunned speechless by the blunt wording and topic of his question.

“Does your girlfriend like missionary sex?”

There’s silence as blue and green eyes just stare at each other, one pair laced with steely resolve, the other filled with shock and confusion. In any other scenario, Iwaizumi would wonder if this was a joke, maybe even be affronted and scowl at how rude and personal the question is. And yet, as he scans Kageyama over, sees the genuine curiosity and determination in his eyes, he just sighs, wondering how he managed to end up being the trainer of so many social deviants.

“Yes, sometimes.”

“How often do you guys have missionary sex?”

“Are you- Are you taking notes?!”

There’s wrestling, some grunts and growling, a smack on the head, and then there’s silence as Iwaizumi questioningly looks at the younger athlete who’s rubbing his sore forehead, silently demanding answers as he holds the pad of paper and pen Kageyama had been dutifully writing on hostage. He wonders if maybe he should take it easy on him, almost considering this a lost cause, but then words are spilling out of Kageyama’s mouth and he quietly listens, a small knowing smile slipping on his face as the setter nervously explains everything, blushing as he discusses his sex life with his ex-senpai. And then it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to talk, and Kageyama hopefully smiles at the older man when the trainer grins at him, clamping a strong hand on his shoulder reassuringly, telling him that he just needs to talk to you about it and that he’s sure everything will be just fine once you two discuss it over.

But he is a bit confused by the last word of advice his senpai gives him.

“And Kageyama, make sure you remind your girlfriend that you think she’s beautiful.”

Of course you’re beautiful. Perfect, really. Why would he need to tell you that? Isn’t it obvious?

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, an amused grin on his face when he sees the clear confusion on Kageyama’s face at his parting words. But he sleeps easy, confident that the two of you will be just fine.

You’re not sure what’s transpired at Kageyama’s latest training camp with the Japan national team, but you can feel your lover’s eyes practically piercing you with how hard they study you, relentlessly trailing your figure, an unsaid question heavy in the air. The tension is thick and you tiptoe around the elephant in the room, wondering exactly what has your boyfriend so on edge and just when it becomes unbearable, just when you’re about to confront him directly, he moves first and it takes every reflex you have not to drop the cup of water you have in your hand.

“You’re beautiful.”

Kageyama is not expecting or ready for the torrential flood that is now running from your eyes and all he can do is rush towards you, clutching you tightly in his arms, apologizing profusely (although he’s unsure exactly what he should be sorry about). But blubbered words escape alongside the salty tears and the athlete listens to every syllable, arms almost crushing you, fingers digging almost painfully into your skin, his own heart shattering when he hears the self-doubt and self-hate you’ve been suffering through alone. And soon both of you are sobbing messes as Kageyama tells you over and over again how beautiful you are, how perfect you are, how he loves you just the way you are, repeating himself until his throat is sore and you’re pushing the glass of water you had set aside to his dry lips.

This time as he gently pulls you with him towards your shared bedroom, he adjusts the lights until he can clearly see you, slowly coaxing you with reassuring kisses and tender caresses until he feels the tension in your shoulders relax. Neither of you can keep count of just how many times Kageyama tells you how beautiful you are, but it’s never enough for your greedy praise-starved ears and he softly smiles at how you seem to relax and melt more and more into his touches with every praise that falls from his lips. He doesn’t stop praising you as he gradually pushes the fabric of your shirt up, only pausing to intimately kiss, taste, and touch every inch of newly exposed skin he’s privy to. But then there’s silence when he finally hooks the material off of you and he just stares, breath caught in his chest as he takes in the sight of you laid completely bare before him for the first time.

Your hands move to cover yourself, face turning away, unable to hold his intense gaze, feeling so vulnerable and exposed. But your neck whips back to look above you when calloused hands carefully, but firmly grasp your wrists, laying them back down besides you, eyes still roaming over your naked figure. Your heart races at the love and hunger you see in cobalt eyes and suddenly you can’t tear your eyes away from him, lost in endless blue.

It’s almost sinful how good it feels, how much more sensual the slowness and explorative nature of your skin on skin dance feels and you curse yourself for having denied yourself this pleasure all this time as Kageyama’s lips swallow your hardened nipples, hot tongue circling and lapping at the sensitive bud, sucking in a way that has you writhing underneath him, whimpering when you see hazy blue eyes lustfully studying you. And when he finally enters you after what feels like a lifetime of foreplay and teasing, your body more riled up than it’s ever been, humiliating whines for more slipping past your lips, too filled with desire to be even remotely self-conscious, you swear you almost cum just from his cock sliding balls deep inside of you.

The two of you have arguably done filthier things, his cock reaching even deeper inside of you when he has you on all fours doggy-style underneath him, when you’re riding on top of him in reverse cowgirl. But as your eyes lock onto each other while you’re connected below, both of you can’t deny that there’s a new level of intimacy, of arousal, that makes even the most minute movements feel amplified, every shift of hips and the slightest brushes of skin against skin flooding both of you with dizzying pleasure.

There’s no rush or urgency to completion like there normally is when the two of you chase your ends and it’s a slow and gradual crescendo, every note and every key painstakingly and reverently played. Hips slowly grind against each other, Kageyama’s cock dragging against your sopping wet walls, lips melding against each other as you languidly kiss each other all the while. You can feel a powerful buildup rising inside of you, something fuller, more overwhelming than even the mind blowing pleasure Kageyama always bestows upon you. And when he pulls his mouth away from yours, laces his fingers with yours as his hips begin to increase their pace, snapping harder as he feels his own end approaching, he bends down and murmurs into your ear, a mantra of how beautiful you are, how much he loves you.

That’s all it takes, that low baritone voice filling your senses, his words the last push you need. You’re free falling, convulsing, gripping him tightly, walls clamping down around his pistoning cock and he loses any control or restraint he had as he desperately observes you, trying to brand every twitch of your face, every sound you make into his memory. If he thought you were beautiful before, you’re absolutely breathtaking like this, a face expression so purely filled with your essence, so raw, so unimpeded by any inhibitions. And he joins you over that pleasurable cliff, ignorant of how your own eyes just as greedily take in the sight of his chiseled face contorted in bliss, Adama’s apple on full display as he throws his head back.

The two of you bask in the post-coital haze, bodies feeling boneless as Kageyama carefully lays slightly to the side of you, lower bodies still intimately connected, one of his legs thrown over yours as he affectionately holds your still trembling body to his, both of you panting and melting into the cushioned mattress. It feels safe and comforting in his arms and you allow yourself to nuzzle even closer to him, almost sinking into his warmth and letting exhaustion overtake you.

But as the leftover tendrils of pleasure begin to fade away, your senses become more alert and you nervously bite your lower lip, the exposed nature of your still naked figure suddenly all too apparent to you. You subtly reach for the blankets, trying not to accidentally awaken the slumbering man still tucked against you as you attempt to cover yourself, eyes darting around for your clothes, desperate to hide yourself and shield your body from view once again.

Old habits and insecurities don’t just change overnight after all.

You’re so focused on your tasks at hand that you don’t notice blue eyes blearily blinking, trying to make sense of all the little shuffling that had awakened him. But you yelp when you’re suddenly made immobile by two strong arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you snugly against a toned chest once more.

“Tobio! Let me go put on pajamas at least.”

You flush when Kageyama pointedly stares down at his own completely naked body before staring at yours, a deadpan expression on his face as he inquisitively gazes at you.

“I- Uh...I’m cold! Yeah, I’m cold-”

There’s nothing convincing in your tone as you stammer out the excuse, too embarrassed to voice the real reason out loud when Kageyama had done nothing but reassure you and make you feel like the most stunning woman in the world, even if it was just temporary. But before you can spiral any further, your thoughts are cut off by a fluffy comforter blanketing and enveloping both Kageyama and you, the setter already re-closing his eyes after deeming you sufficiently tucked in and “covered”, although your self-consciousness begs to differ as your bare skin brushes against your lover.

You open your mouth to protest, but as if sensing your thoughts, one blue eye peeks open and you’re silenced by a stern “go to sleep”, strong arms wrapping around you even more tightly than before, keeping you still. And you can’t help but smile, shaking your head in fond exasperation as Kageyema’s stubbornness wins out over any self-doubt festering inside of you this time around, letting yourself find peace and security in his arms.

Old habits and insecurities don’t just go away overnight, but this is a hell of a good start.

#haikyuu smut #kageyama smut #kageyama x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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onyxoverride · 3 years

Text

Hopeless - Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

◙warnings: female reader. mutual pining. a sprinkle of sexuality struggles. fingering, eating pussy, face sitting. fluffy, wholesome. SMUT.

◙word count: 3.9k

◙summary: You like Mikasa but you’re struggling a bit to come to that realization, and now you struggle to confess. But confessing goes really well.

You didn't mean for it to go like this. You feel hopeless. It started with curious touches in the shower after grueling missions and massages after training, gentle caresses whenever she looked worried. You didn't even realize it started to be more until Jean started teasing you about liking her. You were confused but now you had to confront something about yourself that you never have before.

But if it's true… it makes sense. You never really showed much interest in the boys of the village and whenever one tried to flirt with you, you'd clap your hand on their back and compliment them, completely oblivious of their affections. And whenever girls would set flower crowns on your head it would make your heart flutter, and your best friend as a kid that let hands wander in the barn before dinner. You tucked it away deep within yourself. The memories and the mental struggles of trying to figure it out. Who has the time when you are trying to become a scout and kill titans and avoid being killed by said titans?

Did her sharing food with you and no one else mean something? Did her waiting to go to the showers with you mean anything? What about when you two trained with each other to the point of exhaustion, laying beside each other out of breath with the evening air trying its best to cool your heated skin. Yes, you worried for her yes, you cared but was it romantic?

You dig hard into your brain trying out different scenarios in your head trying to figure it out.

People go on dates, get food, and sometimes coffee, but you've done that with her before. Her favorite coffee is a lavender latte because she doesn't like the bitterness as much as you'd think, and lavender reminds her of Eren's mother, and she likes the apples from the stall closest to the alley by the inn because they're the juiciest and the vendor is the nicest old lady.

Well, people who date also hold hands, and you've done that before too, dragging her through the city on a momentary day off or after missions when things got particularly gorey even on missions riding in a carriage to your destination you'd grasp your hand around hers and squeeze to let her know that you are there and you are there for her.

She cared for you too. You know it, now, comparing what she did with everyone else to how she treats you. How she teased Sasha but gave you her leftover bread, how whenever Jean and Eren brawl she puts some sort of barrier between you and them just in case, even though she knows you know how to handle yourself. The little glances of confirmation that you are eating, you’re still there. When she helped you in the shower after hurting your leg on that one mission. The tension in the air was thick but it wasn’t exclusively sexual, intimate and intense as she helped you wash off the day’s grime and massage the soap around your shoulders and thighs. Circling soap around your thighs and hips and when she would help you stand she would ignore your shy demeanor for the sake of your comfort. Maybe that’s when you should have confronted this part of you but you’ve refused and pushed it away all this time why not some more? You’ve knocked it down every time it peaks its glaring head.

And then the dreams came.

What you've seen in the shower pieces itself together in unholy ways while you sleep. You still can feel her hands on your body from when she helped you. The interesting positions you would end up in while training with her fueled the dreams as well. The muscles she dutifully keeps up with straining for you, her calloused hands on your body, her grey eyes peeking at you from between your legs. Other Nights you would be on top of her, making her bite at her lips trying to keep her moans at bay. Almost every morning you can't look at her when you wake up because it's still so vivid. She'd paint mosaics in your skin with her tongue and you feel like you finally understand what those worshippers of the walls feel because you would do anything for her, worship her, keep all her secrets and demand her safety. You've had dreams like this before, one with Annie when you were training that terrified you more than Annie herself. Or those times when you stayed in an inn above a bar and the owner's daughter with brunette hair would flirt with you every chance she got.

But dreams of this intensity, this frequency? Never. It's disturbing your daily life and you are hopeless. Hopelessly head over heels with a woman you can only read into so much. She is not an open book but you've seen a few pages and it's enough to have you hooked on the series. This time you can't push it down, or away into the deepest wrinkles of your brain. Your attraction for her is branded into your temporal lobe burning through your skull and it's this close to being shown on your forehead. Now the food she shares, the concern she shows, you fear you're reading too deep into her actions. After she asks Eren if he's okay then it's you and no one else. Every time you speak with her it feels like the sun has hit your skin even when it's nighttime. Everybody else sees it, everybody else knows vaguely what is going on, except Eren and Mikasa it seems. Eren because he's too thick in the head to even understand what's going on between you and Mikasa and Mikasa because… well you don't know. Maybe she's gained Erens obliviousness over the years or maybe she just doesn't get whatever the fuck romance is or consists of or maybe she does get it but doesn't let on that she does. Jean had to get over his crush on Mikasa because at least he can see how she cared for you, which you feel bad for because he probably has a higher chance than you. There are nights where the trouble realizations you've pushed away come back to crush you during the deep hours of the night when you're supposed to be asleep. You are glad you can cry quietly those nights but sometimes you can't and that's when Sasha spares you words to curl at your side as you sob into her shoulder. You don't speak of it the next morning, neither of you do, and you blame the irritation of the white of your eyes on bad sleep and sometimes allergies if you're lucky.

When it comes for the time of one of the riskiest missions, worry stringing through the air and through everyone's veins, seeping into dreams of the following nights, your struggling sexuality starts to simmer down with the rise of realization that your friends and Mikasa have chances of not coming back alive. But you're realistic, you aren't as powerful as Mikasa and she's almost at the skill level of Levi. You might die never telling her, or confronting yourself, and you think that might be your only regret if you drop dead right in this moment. A night before the mission and Jean nudges you with a solemn expression. You already know what he's alluding to, so you just nod at him. You don't want to talk about it or speak it aloud in general. He just thinks you are hopeless at this point. If you talk about it aloud it feels like you would just jinx yourself and you convince yourself that's partially the reason why you haven't said anything yet.

You see her with her short cut hair, looking so firm but so worried. Probably for Eren, and everybody, and the possible results of said mission. The overbearing threat of death doesn't make for bright moods.

So you don't do it. You don't confess. You abandon your mental script for now of what you were going to say. You needed a spark to get the fire going. To gain the courage to pour your heart out and how can you get this spark in such damp air?

Jean and Sasha give you a pitiful look before they get on their horses because they just know. Again, you're hopeless. The air around you and Mikasa is painfully consistent, the same as before and you look like you haven't slept in years. Levi has already scolded you for looking like shit, you don't need them on your ass as well so they don't say anything.

You are glad the mission is coming to an exhausting end. Your closest friends aren't hurt besides sore muscles and scratches and most importantly, Mikasa is in good shape. It's amazing what near-death experiences can do, and finally, the spark you were waiting for has been found, you've found the flint and steel to create it. Now, to actually figure out where to start that fire.

Turns out your chance is the day after you get back from the previous mission. A celebration dying down in the dining hall, your friends stumbling around like happy drunks as they should. You aren't drunk but the drinks you have had throughout the night make your chest heat up and your only thought is "now or never." Mikasa, sitting outside, alone and strikingly sober, looks like a stone statue carved by the gods with her sleeves rolled of her button-up rolled to her elbows. It's chilly outside but comfortable on your warm skin and part of you fears to disturb her, as if you're disturbing an artist's focus on their painting or a baker with their bread and you would ruin the process.

But the continuous chant of "now or never" continues like a hymn and you can't ignore it, or push it down. Sitting next to her isn't the nerve-wracking part, it's when you look into her eyes and now most of your pre-made script is thrown out the window and your heart is stuck in your throat. There are already tears swimming at your eye line but you've waited long enough to do this, you've sat in your own puddle of woes long enough.

She regards you with a hum and a twitch of her thin eyebrow because she can see the glossiness in your eyes. You're a soldier goddamnit but this seems scarier than fighting titans or other humans.

"I need-" You choke for a moment but continue, "I need to tell you something and I need you to listen." At least the beginning of your mental script has come in handy but the middle becomes muddled in your emotion-filled brain. She's nodding and scooting closer which encourages you to at least keep speaking, "if this doesn't apply pretend I never said anything okay?" It is rhetorical and much more of a demand than a question but she nods with a simple "okay," as you continue.

"Do you have room in your heart to love me?" Why did you have to phrase it like that? There were so many more options you could have chosen from but you said this one. It makes her sound so cold-hearted, but at least you won't make her choose, if she has room in her heart to love you, you just hope you can fill it. She looks at you with your quivering lip, hands clenching the table harshly to keep you grounded.

Mikasa is deliberating in her head. She knew to an extent how far her affections stretch for you, further than where Eren stands for sure. She didn't need to debate her own attractions as you have, it became very simple. She likes who she likes, it doesn't matter what they look like, as long as she deems them good and starts to think of them romantically. Ever since seeing you in training, and fighting along your side against titans, seeing you care for your peers so sweetly, she's held a special place in her heart for you. She's heard you cry at night and it pulled at her heart, tempted her to slide into your bed and hold you, but Sasha did that instead. Mikasa has felt a bit hopeless this whole time but now- She's been biting at her lip this whole time and the light taste of iron pulls her back to reality because she needs to answer before your tears fall. Something quick, simple, and to the point-

"I do love you," her own lip shakes a bit. Admittedly, she's surprised that so much emotion is pulled between the two of you. She would daydream about you two laying in the grass, casually confessing and falling into each other so easily like you always have, during fighting or strategy planning. She rests her hand to the side of your face, thumb wiping the stray tears as you let out a relieved sob. Pulling you to her, resting her hand on the back of your head, and shoving your face into her neck, you accept willingly. Mikasa doesn't know how to comfort, but she hopes you can feel her trying. It looks like you've been struggling because this obviously isn't just the remnants of alcohol in your system and she wishes she could have helped you earlier. Wishes she did crawl into your bunk when you cried. She can't help but shed some tears, out of sympathy, out of a relief that maybe now you don't need to hurt anymore, and now she can actually participate in your affections for her instead of pining like she usually does.

Your tears sting your lips but it's nothing compared to the emotional euphoria you are feeling. A feeling you only could describe as FINALLY. She pulls you to her face, pressing her lips into yours and you never imagined your first kiss with Mikasa would be a teary one. She tastes like iron from her bitten lips and you are sure the tears sticking to your own sting. Your teeth clank together a few times, letting out a few breathless chuckles. Both of you barely have experience in this field, but you fall into the paces of caressing each other easily. Maybe you two shouldn't be touching each other like this, right now after you've confessed. You're still outside, anybody could see but she's dragging you to her room which seems only a few paces away. There really isn't time to think, you're still riding this emotional euphoric wave and so is she. Maybe if she took a moment to think and not just take you to her bed right away then she would stop but Mikasa doesn't actually want to think logically right now. She has pined silently long enough, maybe she deserves to give into this. These temptations with the little voice nagging at the back of her mind that "wouldn't she look so good bent over the table right now? What about you pulling her to sit between your thighs to-"

You two bump into a tipsy Sasha on the way but the look in Mikasa's eye makes her shut her mouth and get out of the way quickly. You can hear her scurry off and yell-whisper something to someone but that doesn't quite matter right now because the woman you've been craving since the start is pulling you to her bottom bunk bed to sit on top of her. That script you've forgotten definitely did not include this, but you aren't complaining.

She's grasping at your hips, groping at whatever she can to keep you close and you're doing your own damage. Digging your fingertips into her muscles and chest, rolling your hips into her thigh that rubs just the right spot along the seam of your pants. You aren't exactly being soft but based on her little moans and grunts in between your kisses you think that she probably likes your roughness. Though you do like her in a white button-up she looks better without it, granted she feels exposed but making it even is easy when you're so willing to be stripped by her. You can't help but wish you could touch her chest a little longer because her cheeks only darken more and more every time you tweak her nipples and suck dark maroon marks into her chest, her reactions are priceless. She's pulled you to her, chest to chest to suck at your neck, biting against your skin leaving a kiss after each nip that makes your skin hot. Eventually, she pushes you back to fall into the bed and yanks your pants off as quick as she could manage leaving your thighs to frame her shoulders, knees almost to your chest. It's highly humiliating, she's staring at you from between your legs, and the eye contact from earlier when you were confessing that you thought was nerve-wracking compares nothing to the look she's giving you now, glancing between your eyes and your cunt.

She's devouring you, liking stripes along your folds as you roll your hips into her mouth. The echoing of footsteps along wood makes you freeze and bite the back of your hand to your mouth to stay quiet but Mikasa doesn't stop. Her actions make your thighs clench around her head and she's gripping your thighs while she eats you out mercilessly. You're glad the footsteps leave, or at least you hope they have but your attention is solely on Mikasa and her fingers are working their way into you, twisting at all the right spots. You're both clumsy and inexperienced but everything just feels good, simply wonderful, both of you completely content with each other in this moment as you try to grip at her smooth hair. A climax slowly approaching like a steady march along your belly with her tongue flicking along your clit-

Regrettably, she pulls back, your slick covering her lips and chin, even her nose. She leans over you, brings your lips together once more and she tastes like you, so embarrassingly slick and almost flavorless but so undeniably you. Her fingers are still working inside you and her palm is rubbing against your clit messily, not as precise and erotic as her tongue but it still makes you clench around her nonetheless. It leaves you gasping, "Where-" another slick kiss, "where did you learn this-" one more. She pulls back to sit on her calves and sends you an almost smile, "I'm a woman too," as if that could satisfy the question but she continues, "touching myself to the thought of you gives me at least a bit of experience." Oh. Oh. She said that so bluntly and you bet she did it on purpose just to fluster you and it's succeeding.

But seriously, her fingers are making your eyes roll back in your head and she's hitting the most sensitive patches in your cunt that make your mind go fuzzy so you can't focus at all. She eats your moans and sweet little half pleas she's cut off with kisses and by the time your climax finally reaches you, you accidentally bite her lip as your walls clench around her fingers sporadically. Her lips were already raw with her nervous tick but with you biting, it feels different and entirely refreshing. There are tears clinging to your eyelashes left from your orgasm and she sits back to watch your chest heave and suck your cum off her fingers loudly.

Mikasa really is a devil, but who are you to not give in to her, to try to make her feel good as well? There's still adrenaline from your climax running through your veins so you'll use what's left to get her off, it's the least you could do. Part of it is entirely self-indulgent though, to watch her fall apart from your hands.

"Sit on my face," it shocks her a bit but she won't deny that this is something she wants to indulge herself in, so she sets her thighs on each side of your head with her hand braced against the bottom of the bunk above her. She has to tilt her head a bit awkwardly but she's a bit more focused on how you're spreading her wet cunt out and lapping at her clit to care. It's horribly loud because her cunts been drenched since she started kissing you. Her hands grasping at your sides to keep steady, muscles flexing and thighs shivering it all feels like too much. She curled her fingers like this, and maybe it's a universal trick because she tightens and gasps. Not loud, Mikasa never is but the soft mewls she lets out are worth the work, grinding down into your mouth. Flattening your tongue against her and your wrist is twisted in a weird way to keep thrusting into her, continuously curling, and she's so close to falling apart above you. Her hand grips the board of the bunk above her so hard it cracks and she falls apart on your tongue with a gasping groan and one last roll of her hips.

The realization that you're her arms, that she loves you back hovers over you again and it makes the night so much sweeter. But you both really need a shower and your eyes are already drooping, begging for some sleep.

When the rest of the girls finally make their way back to their beds they have to do a triple take of Mikasa's bed because both of you are intertwined with each other under the sheets, dead asleep with her hair still slightly damp from the shower. As much as Sasha wants to coo at you two she can't help but remember the scary look in Mikasa's eyes when they crashed earlier, so she lets the feeling of happiness for her friends wash over her silently. By the next morning, both of you are late for breakfast, and Jean is starting at the two of you as you both eat.

"So… you two finally find out you were in love with each other this whole time?" Mikasa flushes up to her ears and you freeze up like a deer in headlights. Silence.. until Sasha leans over and whispers all too loud, "They fucked. You could smell it in the room," and a spoon makes contact with her forehead almost making her blackout. Jean goes completely red and Eren stutters out incomprehensible sentences mostly involving "what's going on? What they're dating? You liked her? Mikasa why didn't you tell me-" No one feels like updating him so they just let him ramble. Connie is a bit red too, "so yall are actually dating?" It makes your heart beat faster than you expected. You love your friends you know they wouldn’t be ignorant or mean but still, the worry pulls in the back of your head.

Well, you two really didn't talk about dating after you confessed, and- well that part of the dynamic didn't really cross your mind until now. Mikasa grips your thigh under the table, "She's my girlfriend," she says so loud and clear you could hear it across the dining hall, laced with a bit of possessiveness. Just barely you can hear Levi scoff out a "They're hopeless."

You guess you are, but at least you are hopeless with her. And after all this time, your struggles are put to rest deep in the back of your mind to stay for good.

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 <3

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

Ok so Ik this has already been done with ej, but I’m a toby simp, and I wanted to ask. Reader finding out toby is cheating on them? Maximum of 1k words, a scenario idk, smth. Ty!

-👾

It's Dangerous, To Love the Sun

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: angst in general, physical and emotional cheating, violence, language]

[AN: I listened to Brooksie - Not Into You slowed + reverbed while writing this, I hope you enjoyed! Also went a lil over,,, the word count because I kinda liked this,,,,,,,,,,,]

You love Toby. Ever since he came into your life, you’ve been happier with him at your side. He makes you smile, he makes your heart sing. You’ve never felt so complete.

The way he looks at you is akin to gazing at a masterpiece. His eyes are so full of love when he gazes at you from across the room, wondering when you’ll finally break away from your conversation with Jeff to be at his side again.

His touch is gentle, never harsh. Toby’s fingers trace up and down your forearms and back, ghosts, whisper-like kisses of physical affection in an attempt to show you what he verbally cannot express. He’s always so warm, so loving, so whole.

He completes you, is what you’re trying to get at.

The two of you like to sit on rooftops late at night because neither Masky nor Hoodie can stand the two of you giggling at odd hours of the day in their presence. Kate’s not around long enough to actually care. When it’s just the two of you sitting up here, quiet, against each other and breathing in the sweet night air, you feel more complete than you’ve ever felt before.

You hum out, watching the stars twinkle in the sky, a dreamy expression on your face as Toby momentarily stops playing with your hair.

“What’s o-o-on your mind, b-baby?” He asks, a brow raised. Toby shifts on the shingles, his arms wrapping around you like an octopus, bringing you closer and closer into his warmth.

You find yourself blanketed in him and relax. “You’re so good to me, y’know that?” You say.

Toby scoffs and rolls his eyes. “O-Other way around,” he corrects.

You tilt your head and shake it slightly, telling him he’s wrong. “You’ve always been so good to me,” you continue, brushing off his attempts to play down your saccharine words.

He knows you’re not fibbing, but at the same time, he refuses to admit to your claims. “I d-d-did what w-was expected o-of me, you know t-that,” he states plainly.

You take in another deep breath before resting your head on his shoulder, melting into him. You pick up his scent: oak and burning winter, before retorting against him again in a voice a hair above a whisper. “You’re wrong.”

Toby laughs, his lips pressing to the side of your head. “If y-y-you say so,” he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your head and eventually your face. He revels in the sound of your laughter as he does so, leaving no inch of you unkissed.

“I know so.”

The two of you fall back into a pleasant silence.

You’ve always viewed Toby like he has power over the sun, because, as far as being a proxy goes? He does. When you were first plucked from your life and called for something ‘greater’, it was Toby who had taken pity on you, trained you, taught you all you needed to know and the ins and outs of this life. He was the one who shielded you from Masky, Hoodie and even Kate at times.

It was by his hand that you survived, and it is still by his hand that you thrive.

It was such a blinding adoration for a man you believed held dominion over the sun that kept you veiled from the truth of what he had been doing behind closed doors, yet could be seen through the windows.

Naturally, you didn’t want to believe it. Who would? The person you love’s heart has fled the place it used to live with you and taken up residence with someone else. That’s not an easy thing to admit, not when you realize that love truly is not all it takes.

Toby doesn’t want to admit it either. It started out as some strange infatuation, a fleeting crush - someone he would forget.

But her eyes? Her darling eyes? One of them the most beautiful shade of peridot he’d ever seen and the other a literal clock? They say the eyes (in her case, eye) are the window to the soul, and she had absolutely snared his. She was beautiful in a way Toby couldn’t describe, beautiful in a way that had him seeing a sky full of stars in the middle of the day, and beautiful in the sense she was timeless.

Toby knows he should be ashamed, that she’s his little secret, that what he has with Natalie can’t be compared with you, but he knows he can’t let you find out lest you go too far you can’t come back.

That blinding sun made you shrug off the bruises that were too keenly placed to be a victim’s sorry attempt at freeing themself. You shrugged off the scent of roses and wine. You shrugged off how his eyes saw past you, no longer at you. You shrugged it all off, choosing to stay blinded than face the truth.

And you would’ve happily lived in that ignorance if Toby didn’t grow cocky and arrogant and so fucking careless.

You’ve never really felt your world crash and burn until today. You've never been burned by the sun until this moment.

You’re looking into the eyes of a man you think owns the sun and see nothing but fear, regret, and pleading. Pleading for what? That you won’t leave him? That you’ll stay with him? You feel tears well in your eyes as you see him laying in your bed with her. The woman who had been naught but a shadow until now.

“R-Reader,” Toby begins, quickly wrestling up in the sheets, watching as your soul leaves your body in the doorway. “B-Baby, it’s n-no-”

You’re at a loss for words, and frankly, you don’t think he even deserves the right to your thoughts at this moment. Instead, you hold your hand up, silencing him, and turn to leave the temp house. You were out doing work for your fucking boss and get rewarded like this? The man you loved in bed with another woman, looking at her like she owned the moon. You take in a sharp breath and then begin to beeline to the front door when Toby finally gets out of the bed, ignoring the cries of confusion pouring from Natalie’s mouth.

Your heart races when you realize Toby is gaining on you. Your vision blurs through your tears.

He’s calling out for you, his stutter even stronger than before, bones popping louder and louder as he gets hit with the weight of what he’s done to you. “Stop! S-Stop fucking m-m-moving!” He hisses, his calloused hand reaching out for your wrist, successfully grabbing you.

You snarl like a caged, wounded animal, flesh burning at the contact. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you sneer as you attempt to rip your wrist from his iron grasp. In your other hand, you already have the car keys ready. You just want to be anywhere but here.

“I-I’m so s-s-sorry,” Toby says, attempting to pull you into a hug.

You struggle against him harder, hissing to be let go. The keys in your free hand are getting threaded in your fingertips. Your tears feel warm and boil your cheeks as they roll down like waterfalls. The harder he grips you, the more you feel you’ve been burned to a point of no return. “God fucking damn it, let me go!” You shout, not even noticing how Natalie has come out of the room to get Toby off of you. She’s quickly gaining in the hallway, confused on if she should step in or not.

Toby tries harder and harder to pull you into his embrace, and that’s when you strike.

You take your car key filled fingers and punch as hard as you can, the teeth of the keys dragging across Toby’s cheek, successfully shocking him into letting you go. You don’t even consider how badly you’ve hurt him and take the opportunity of his shock to flee the temp house, quickly hopping into the car.

“Reader!” Toby shouts, hand on his right cheek, not even caring about the claw marks you’ve left. “B-Baby, let’s t-talk about t-this-”

You start honking the horn to drown his voice out. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a scowl on your face, glare holding nothing but bullets towards Toby and Natalie as she attempts to wrangle him back into the house.

You watch as her arms wrap around his waist - she’s surprisingly gentle for dealing with such a belligerent man - before peeling out of the driveway, hand still honking the horn and practically waking up the neighborhood while you’re at it.

Your mind overloads as you drive, thoughts of the sun getting eclipsed by the other celestial body that overtakes it in full, swallowing it whole. You mutter angrily to yourself, turning on the radio for just noise as you finally get onto the expressway. And you drive. You drive until your head feels clear again, and when it does, you’re finally able to focus on something other than what’s in front of you on the endless stretch of road.

Autumn is making its way in, that much is apparent. Every now and then, specks of orange and red zip past your high beams. It’s cooler, and you swear you’ve passed a few flowering pumpkin patches.

You look to your left, gazing out the window for a moment or so.

The moon is decidedly absent this night.

You sigh as the fires extinguish in your heart, loneliness, sadness and any other emotion draining alongside it leaving a pit in your chest.

The emptiness quickly takes its place, haunting you like the ghost it is.

#ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #x reader #reader insert #ticci toby x y/n #clockwork #natalie ouellette #angst

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