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yandere-writer-momo · 5 months

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Yandere Baki Short Stories: Just Let Me Adore You

Yandere Jack Hanma x Burlesque Dancer Afab Reader

For @lex90112 who requested Baki men with a burlesque reader

TW: yandere behavior, dubcon, adult themes, and murder (mentioned)

Now Jack was not a man driven by lust or women. He never had an interest in earthly pleasures… until now.

Jack had no business being in a gentleman’s club but the temptation of cheap drinks and his curiosity of what lied inside lead him in here. And lo and behold, he saw her.

Jack has never seen a burlesque performance before but he was entranced. The giant white feather fans enraptured him in their seductive dance. His cinnamon colored eyes stayed locked on her form that reminded him of a bird that was making an attempt to enchant a potential mate.

The plumage teased his hungry eyes until the beautiful woman was revealed underneath. His breath hitched and his palms began to sweat. Jack was utterly bewitched. He couldn’t look away from her performance no matter how much he wanted to reign his self control back in. A primal feeling had taken ahold of him.

The snow white garments made her appear to be a lamb amongst wolves. Her shy smile and gazes made something stir in his loins as she danced for the predatory gazes all around her. How could someone be so cute yet so delish tempting to ravage?

When she slowly began to shed off her clothing, he shuddered when one of her garments now laid on his lap. The scent of her sweet perfume overwhelmed his senses and it took everything in him not to bury his nose in them.

Jack had a lump form in his throat when she blew a kiss in his general direction- no. She blew a kiss at him. And now it took everything in him not to jump on that stage to steal her away from this life of lustful gazes and wolf whistles. She deserved better.

The poor man had fallen in love at first sight and he would pursue her with unrestrained madness like a wolf lusting for a lamb. Jack wanted to steal her away from himself.

And so Jack became a regular to his lamb’s performance. Jack had found out her name is (your name) and they were close in age.

Jack kept every snow white garment thrown at him by her since it was a gift she willingly gave to him. His cinnamon eyes burned every kiss blown at him into his permanent memory.

Sometimes Jack liked to imagine that she only danced for his eyes to see. That her smiles and flirty glances were only reserved for him.

Jack should know better but he couldn’t help it. He’s been alone for so many years now that he couldn’t help but be entranced by the idea of having someone at his side. Desire had taken ahold of his heart and body.

Since his desire to be the strongest hadn’t worked out, why not have a new purpose? A purpose to protect his precious lamb from slaughter?

Too bad Jack hadn’t taken competition into equation…

Jack felt his jaw clench when he over head some men talk about his lamb in the after hours of the night. Their lewd perversions disgusted him. How dare they speak of her in such a way… she was so much more than a piece of meat.

It was when they spoke of plans of sexual assault that made Jack decide to step forth as her self proclaimed protector. No one will touch a hair on her head so long as he breathes. Jack was willing to kill for her.

Jack felt his fist clench and then unclench. He wasn’t going to let them trash her name. And that’s when he stalked forward. His large form towered over the men’s smaller forms.

“What the hell are you looking at?”

“Some corpses.”

A few screams filled the night air and then silence.

“That blond giant is here again to see you dance.” (Your name) hummed at her manager’s words. She wasn’t surprised by this news. She knew he’d be here, he always was over the last few months.

His predatory gaze made her feel more bare than the few pieces of lingerie she wore. She knew if she got too close to that wolf then he would devour her whole. So she made sure to keep his hunger satiated with small tokens of herself. Lest she wanted to end up on the stage and eaten before everyone’s eyes.

“I think that Jack guy is in love with you.” (Your name)’s manager whispered softly, their eyes filled with concern. “He’s a terrifying man. We can go to a new club if you’d like. One far from here before he tries something.”

(Your name) shook her head and smiled at her manager. “He’s my biggest tipper. I’d hate to lose such a loyal regular.”

“But he’s… ugly.” Her manager whispered. “And his eyes look like they want to swallow you whole.”

It seems many people were aware of the blonde man’s lust for her. Perhaps she should take this into consideration? Then again, (your name) was no lamb like everyone believed. No… she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She used the lust of men to pay off a debt she owed and she was nearly done with it.

“I can handle him.” (Your name) smiled at her manager with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll be just fine.”

A shame she had underestimated the giant man. Perhaps the tragedy wouldn’t have befallen her if she had just ran while she still could.

(Your name)’s eyes widened at the large amount of money presented to her. Her regular wanted a private dance… and he had plaid twice the amount required for one.

“I can’t save you if you accept…” her manager whispered with sad eyes. “But I know you need this money…”

(Your name) took a hold of her manager’s hands. “I’ll be fine. I’ll giving him a dance if that is what he would like.”

Yes… one more dance and she’d be out of this life. That’s all she would need…

“Tell him I’ll do it. I’ll meet him at the address.” Her manager solemnly nodded and gave her one last glance.

“Please be safe.”

(Your name) was pulled into a searing kiss so strong, she felt her lips bruise. Large hands eagerly explored her body as the giant man trembled above her. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. It was just meant to be a dance and yet he pounced on her like a hungry lion the moment her cover came off.

“You’re mine now.” Jack huskily whispered in her ear, his fingers eagerly tugged at her lingerie. “And I want to give you all of me…”

(Your name) gasped when he pressed something big into her bottom. He was massive… she could count on one hand how many people she’s been with but he was so much bigger than all of them. And he seemed more eager to please…

“Jack, I don’t know if we should-“ (your name) was pulled into another eager kiss. Her lingerie now pooled around her feet as his hands cupped her chest and his body shook.

“Please… please take my virginity.” Jack muttered into her neck. “I want you to have me. I want to be yours.”

Jack’s movements were clumsy yet they showed restraint. (Your name) glanced into this face and rather than seeing a man with a starving gaze, she saw a scared child. This giant man before her was lost and his heart screamed for love. It broke her heart… she didn’t want to imagine the things he had been through in his life. But she was willing to be his solace for a night.

(Your name) gently took his face in her hands and stroked her thumbs over his scarred cheeks. His eyes watered a bit and his body still trembled like a leaf but his gaze was filled with admiration for her. Something she wasn’t used to seeing on a man of his stature.

“Okay. You can have me.” She was stolen away to his room in an instant.

She was tossed onto his bed like a doll while his hands quickly began to shed his clothes. All of him was massive and scarred but there was something attractive about him. It stirred something primal in her but that could also be since she hasn’t had sex in a long time.

(Your name) gasped when he shaved his face between her legs, her fingers tried to grasp at his short blonde locks. His tongue eagerly lapped at her wet folds to try to please. Eager to taste. Eager to own.

Her soft whimpers only encouraged him to devour her even more. His long tongue thrusted in and out of her warmth while his nose bumped against her clit. His eyes rolled back at the sweet taste. He was in heaven…

When her body convulsed and her thighs wrapped around his head, he knew he had successfully pleased her but Jack wanted more.

Jack wanted to explore all of her. He moved his mouth up from her privates to kiss up her stomach and to her chest. His lips wrapped around her left nipple to give it a harsh suck, a loud cry escaped her lips.

“More… I want more please.” She didn’t have to tell him twice. He clumsily lined himself up before he pressed himself in. A groan escaped his lips at the damp tightness that clenched around his length. He wasn’t even halfway in yet and he could feel the back of her. It was too much for him.

Jack hissed when her nails dug into his back but it did little to deter him from rightfully claiming her for himself. He kept pushing in despite her cries and moans. Jack’s instincts began to take over as he began to thrust.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and moans echoed in the room. The smell of sex permeated in the air. Jack had never felt such pleasure before.

It didn’t take long for his shallow thrusts to become brutal. The bed slammed into the wall and his hands grasped her hips in a bruising grip but it did little to deter his desire to own her.

Poor (your name) could only throw her head back as she felt him dig into her guts. His large tip punching her crevice over and over again. He was too big… he was too much. Yet she couldn’t even formulate words from how stupid he was fucking her.

Jack felt a strength rush through his body but he paid it no mind. He was too busy chasing his high to understand Hanma logic. The desire to claim and breed had overtaken him.

Jack gave her shoulder’s a bite strong enough to leave a mark. His tongue lapped at the blood in euphoria. He felt on top of the world. He loved this feeling and he never wanted it to end… he finally had his precious lamb.

It was when his hips began to finally stutter and he felt something explode from him that he knew it was finished. He pulled himself out with a wet squelch, his cinnamon eyes glanced at the steady stream of white leaking from her swollen hole in awe. She was his.

His hulking body slumped into a puddle beside her. His arms coiled around her form to pull her to his. Jack felt himself relax for the first time in years, his high made him glow.

“That was amazing…” Jack whispered, the giant pressed kisses on the bleeding bite make on (your name)‘s shoulder. “I’m all yours.”

(Your name) only felt exhausted, her body bruised and battered from his rough treatment but she was sure she could slip away in the morning.

As her eyes fluttered shut to sleep, she failed to realize Jack was never going to let her go.

He may now be hers, but now she was also his. Forever.

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ghoularaki · 5 months

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the lonely district

↠ summary: In the years after the slime monster incident and Midoriya's disappearance, he had come back to haunt both you and Bakugou. He no longer was the boy you once knew, but a villain ready to take what was his. Revenge was best served cold, afterall.

↠ word count: 7, 523

↠ pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader x midoriya izuku

↠ genre/warnings: smut, angst, prohero au, DARK CONTENT, villain deku, yandere, shock collars, implied stalking, kidnapping. NSFW (NONCON, sub! reader, (reluctant) switch! katsuki, dom! izuku, fuck or die, loss of virginity, creampie, spanking, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, blowjob, no aftercare)

↠ a/n: this is an old fic i have been trying to finish since 2019 so im sorry if the writing feels inconsistent. i just really wanted to finally finish it since it was half finished. also excuse the very outdated villain deku trope rip

It’s been a long day and honestly you just wanted to go home. For some reason, your supervisor thought it was a good idea to pair you with Dynamight or rather Bakugou Katsuki—your childhood friend. If you could even call him that. For the longest time, you both had not gotten along, but since you had the mutual friend of Midoriya Izuku, you had to interact. That all changed when Bakugou got his quirk and he turned into a cruel bully. The dynamic and interaction formula was always the same: Bakugou would torture Midoriya in any way he could, Midoriya would just let it happen and you would defend him, turning it into a full blown brawl between you and Bakugou. It stayed like this for a while until that day Bakugou was held hostage by that slime monster and Midoriya went missing.

After that you had clung onto Bakugou in a desperate need to make sense of both of them getting hurt on the same day and the loss of your best friend. Surprisingly, Bakugou let you. But not without string of degrading names following. Despite his harsh words, he never once pushed you away anytime you silently sought comfort. Even though he didn’t act like it, he too was affected by Midoriya’s disappearance. Maybe he felt guilty, maybe he just missed his punching bag, or maybe he finally matured.

You would never know since he was so emotionally constipated. It was a bitch and a half just to get him to admit that you were one of the most important people in his life. Even now as you are both pro-heroes in your early twenties, it’s difficult for him to call you his best friend. Sure, he would be concerned if anything happened to you—that worry built with your childhood friend missing—he would rather die than confess to that.

Thing is, Midoriya didn’t stay “missing” for so long. No, he wasn’t found nor was his body. No, he never returned to his poor mother after years of being gone with open arms. No, there was never a “welcome back” sign, but his face plastered on every wanted poster within Japan. The bastard had joined the League of Villain with a big ol’ grin on his freckled face. That cursed day when you met with those emerald eyes again had haunted you forever. Tears streamed down your face, watching him be reborn into a whole new person. He didn’t have an ounce of guilt in his bones, he only gave a maniac smile, mocking you.

Didn’t you miss me, N/n-chan? You look a little… sad, He drawled out with a smug look, glee coursing through his veins as you sob as if you had found him dead instead of him breathing, finally alive.

It was when he had escaped that Bakugou for once let you clutch onto him, holding in his own sorrow as you openly sob into his shirt. And he did it again when the League of Villains was supposedly defeated but Midoriya or rather Deku still ran rampant.

That’s where you two are now, there was another sighting of Deku in the area and you were assigned to bring him to face judgement. You knew what would become of him if you caught him. Still clinging onto the memory of an innocent child, you almost hoped that you would never find him.

Bakugou had other plans.

Since day one he had wanted to find that bastard (his words, not yours) and give him absolute hell for becoming a villain.

“It’s probably just another false alarm, just like the other seven,” You sassed him as you both walk towards an alleyway.

“Doesn’t fucking matter, we still have check just in case this time it’s not,” Bakugou growls stopping away.

You rolled your eyes and made a face at him from behind his back.

As if he had a sixth sense, he barked, “I know you’re being a brat. I would stop if I were you or else you want your ass blow into the fucking stratosphere.”

Once you both got to the alley way only to be met with a dumpster, you pivoted and raised your brow at Bakugou. He rolled his eyes at you and went towards the dumpster. He opened it to see if there was any hints or evidence Deku even here. Still standing near the entrance of the alley, you the hair on your neck rose. A primal instinct that you were being watched set alarm bells ringing in your head. As subtle as you could, your eyes bounced around the enclosed area in hopes to find the danger before it finds you.

A bad feeling sunk in your stomach like a rock does in water. Hesitantly you said, “Hey Dynamight, I think we should leave.”

“And why the fuck should we, Umbra,” He spat out your hero name.

“Because,” you strained, still observing your surroundings, “I have a bad feeling about this. I think we should leave and get some back up.”

He slammed down the lid and stalks up to you, venom in his voice, “Are you running away from a fight.”

“No—” You started, but he cut your off.

“Oh really,” He mocked, “Because to me, it seems that you are.”

“Can you not be an asshole for a couple seconds and listen to me?” Your voice pitched, not understanding why he’s being so difficult.

“Listen to you? Now why would I listen to you when it seems to me that you are avoiding any place that could have him in it?” You were about to start defending yourself when he cuts you off again. “It’s almost like you don’t want to find him.”

Your eyes widen at him, you couldn’t even feel offending knowing it’s the truth. Though, you rather not fuel Bakugou’s already large ego and denied him. “I’m just trying to make sure none of us get hurt!”

“I don’t need your fucking concern, I can beat any asshole including him easily,” He boasted.

“Oh get the fuck over yourself,” you barked, scowling at him. “Stop acting like you’re the fucking best, asshole.”

“I’m sorry what was that, Number Seven Hero?” Bakugou stepped closer until his face were mere centimeters away from yours. You just glare up at him, not caring that the height difference made you seem less intimidating.

“This isn’t the time for a dick measuring contest, something doesn’t fucking feel right here and I just want to make sure neither us get seriously injured.” You jabbed your finger in his chest to emphasized your point.

“I don’t need your fucking help!” He roared and grabbed on your wrist to throw it away from him.

You ran your fingers through your hair and then pull at it in frustration, “Why can’t you just let me help you—help us for once! You don’t always have to be the savior,” You let out a growl before finishing, “Fleeing isn’t being a coward, it’s being smart enough to analyze the situation and your own weaknesses!”

“So you’re call me fucking stupid now, you shitty brat,” he bit.

“That’s all you got from that?!” You screeched before letting out a laugh that held no humor, “You’re fucking helpless.”

“Helpless? I’m the helpless one? You’re the one that wants to fucking run away just because you ‘have a bad feeling’.” He did air quotes around what you had said.

“Oh God, Lord fucking forbid, I’m just looking out for both of our asses since you want to play big macho man!”

As you both start a screaming match with each other, you failed to notice the emerald eyes stalking you like a cat does a mouse.

“You’re so fucking clingy just like that damn Deku, hop off my dick,” He snarled and clicked his tongue at you as if you were a misbehaving child.

Rage built up within your chest at his ill words. Syllables that were only meant to maim almost leave your tongue when you heard a noise a little too close to comfort. Adrenaline coursed through your bones, knowing your suspicions were right. You grabbed onto Bakugou’s wrist and turned towards the dark corner of the alley to fade into the shadows in hopes to escape. You ignored how he starts to yell profanities at you. Before you could even take two steps, you were pulled back by your hair into a firm body.

You let out a grunt at the sting from the strands being pulled from their follicles.

“Not so fast,” The voice whispered in your ear.

Growling, you elbowed the person in the stomach and jump away from them before they could grab you again. When you turned around, you jaw dropped in shock.

“Izu-chan?” You stuttered out.

“In the flesh,” he taunted with arms raised to the side.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. He had matured so much since the last time you saw him. His hair was shorter but still as unruly, his jawline was chiseled along with his cheekbones, he still wore a dress shirt with a vest and tie, but for once it was tied properly.

“Finally decided to fucking show up,” Bakugou seethed.

Midoriya pouted as he lets his arms drop with a whomp sound against his outer thighs.

“Oh come on, Kacchan don’t be like that. I thought this could be like a family reunion,” He gives a grand smile before it dropped, venom in his tone, “Didn’t you miss me?”

“Sure, miss you so much, you shit stain.”

Midoriya fiegned hurt and clutched his chest in dramatics, “Oh, how you wound me so, dear Kacchan.”

Bakugou straightened out his back and got in a offensive position, “Enough with the fluff, Deku. It’s time I send your ass to jail.”

Cheek twitching, Midoriya glanced at you still shellshocked. Bakugou came at him, arms positioned behind him to perpell him at the shorter male. Right as Bakugou raised his fist to blast Midoriya in the face, he grabbed you and placed you right in front of him. Bakugou skidded to a halt with widened eyes, not wanting to hurt you in the process. You locked eyes with him. Your knees wobbled from being manhandled so easily.

“Using a girl to shield you is low.”

Midoriya simply shrugged and brought a hand up to cradle your throat. His fingers tightened when he felt you gulp underneath his gloved hands.

“Scared, Love?” He slithered in your ear. He looked down at you, before peered up at Bakugou. At his enraged expression, he licked the shell of your ear. You whimpered and flinched away the best you could.

This was exactly why you didn’t want to meet Midoriya. Even before he disappeared, he was smart and cunning. He knew how to get under Bakugou’s skin, and render you useless. Tears bubbled up as you faced the fact the boy you once loved had died long ago. Pretending to still trembled, you subtly widened your stance. Bringing a hand to Midoriya’s, he took it as you sniveling.

“Shh, don’t cry.”

Looking at Bakugou, you hardened your expression. Quickly, you gripped Midoriya’s wrist and with all your might you stepped forward and used his weight against him to throw him over your shoulder. When his back hit the ground, he let out an irritated grunt.

Wasting no time, you grabbed the quirk cancelling handicuffs on your belt and raced towards him. As you went to straddle him, he kicked your feet from under you and you fell with him. Bakugou took your place and was on top of Midoriya in no time. With acute flexibility, Midoriya spun around and kicked Bakugou in the face.

“Gah! Fuck,” Bakugou growled while gripping his face.

Wind still knocked out of you, Midoriya focused on Bakugou.

“You were always stupidly resilient,” The villain seethed. “I’m done playing games.”

“Good, because so am I.”

Bakugou lunged at him, ready to blast him to kingdom come. Midoriya side stepped his attack. Huffing, he went at him again. The two of them stayed the dance for a while. Any attack Bakugou attempted to do, Midoriya merely avoided with such leisure. The asshole even had his hands behind his back.

Watching as you got up to join the fight as well, Midoriya sighed. “Stubborn, the both of you.”

With such grace, he grabbed Bakugou’s hair and slammed his knee into his face. Stunned, the hero stumbled back. Before he could process the hit, Midoriya kicked him in the head, rendering him useless. Your mouth gaped at Bakugou being so easily taken out. His lids flickered as he struggled to get up.

“R-run,” He commanded, before falling.

Scrambling away from the villain, you sucked in your breath as you go to phase into the shadows. Before you could, Midoriya gripped you again. This time, his hands wrapped the column of your throat and squeezed. Frantically, you slapped against his forearms.

Adding more pressure, he leaned over you as you form slacked to the ground.

“Sweet dreams.”

Bakugou was the first to come to his senses. He squinted his eyes to adjust to the light that hung above him. He groaned as he observed his surroundings, noticing that he was in a dingy basement. There wasn’t much besides a queen size bed near the corner along with a door that he had no idea where it led and an opening with stairs peeking around the corner from where he saw.

Clutching his head, he turned to see your still slumbering form not far from him. Panic built up in him as he scrambled over to you and sighed in relief when there is no sign of vital injures. He starts to shake you awake, trying to think of a plan to escape.

After a couple moments, you let out a hum and your eyelids fluttered open. Just like Bakugou your eyes squinted at the sudden light probing at your pupils.

“Katsu,” You groaned, mind still fuzzy so the old nickname slipped out. Your throat killed.

Bakugou shakily exhaled, glancing towards the concealed stairwell, “Yeah, it’s me.” His hands are gentle as he helped you up into a sitting position. You lean against his chest, body to exhausted to even hold yourself up. Which was odd to you since you were sure that Bakugou got the brunt of each hit that Midoriya landed.

“Where are we?” You asked huskily despite knowing that he probably was just as clueless as you.

“Why the fuck would I know that, brat,” He bit, before sighing and apologizing. He’s just irritated that you both were captured.

“It’s fine, it was a stupid question, anyway,” You smile up at him.

Bakugou looked down at you and then furrowed his brow when he sees the collar around your neck along with a prominient bruise. Now that he thought about it, he felt one around him, too. You seemed to also notice as you reached towards him and traced the collar, confusion written on your face.

You and him were clad in different clothes as well. Instead of his hero suit, he now adorned plain sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You were wearing the same, but shorts instead. What a fucking perv.

Before you two could question each other, the thud of door opened and closed, followed by rhythmic footsteps coming down the stairs. Your heads snapped to the sound and Bakugou took a defensive stance to see Midoriya strut into the basement with a valiant smirk. You scrambled to stand with Bakugou, but your legs give out for a second and he had to catch you. Once you were sure on your feet, you glared at the man in front of you.

“Aw why such aggressive faces,” The villain pouted.

“You know damn well why, you fucking bastard,” Bakugou seethed, tiny explosions crackling in his palms.

You glanced to the shadows creeping up the walls. Shifting your attention to the stand off that the two men were having, you only hoped Bakugou could distract Midoriya enough for you to slip passed him. Ignoring the way your heart pounds at the thought of joining the darkness once again, you raced towards the vantablack. Almost like predicting your movements, Midoriya grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. His arm snaked around your waist. You struggled as best as you can, but his grip got so tight a squeak left your lungs.

“Aw, N/n-chan, you so adorable,” He nuzzles into your neck. He trailed his cold nose up the slope your neck, purposely digging into the bruise, up to your cheek so he could whisper in your ear, “Have you ever heard of cute aggression? It’s quite a funny concept. Humans when we see something cute, we just find the need to squeeze it until it cries or even die. Funny, right?” As he speaks his grip only got tighter and you stand straight as a pole as he licked the shell of your ear, again.

“Get the fuck away from her, you freak.”

Bakugou took a step towards you, but Midoriya dropped his hold on your wrist, to fish something from his dress pants pocket. The hero observed the other man, not wanting to be too brash when your life is on the line. He won’t make the same mistake twice.

Midoriya started to fiddle with what looks like a remote between his gloved fingers. “I would be careful what you say, Kacchan, because the results may be… shocking,” He smirked to himself at his own little inside joke.

“What was I saying, my angel?” Midoriya began, but you kneed him in the crouch and jumped away from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You commanded, ready to fight your childhood friend—no, this villain.

Instead of instantly attacking, Midoriya stayed bent down, clutching his stomach as he giggled. A shiver crawled up your spine at his laugh that lost all warmth it once had. He was insane. He cackled for what seemed to be ages before he stands up straight and all humor gone from his face.

“Interrupt me one more time, and I swear to god,” He snarled, his doe eyes dropped into menacing slits. “As I was saying,” Midoriya reached for you again, but you slapped it away.

“I said don’t touch me,” You spat at him.

“Fine be like that, fucking brat.”

Searing hot pain was all you felt. You screamed at the top of your lungs as you collapsed onto the cement floor in front the villain. Bakugou could only watch in horror at your shrill howls. You desperately clawed at the collar around your throat as it felt as if liquid fire was shot into your veins.

“What are you doing? Fucking stop it, you’re hurting her!” Bakugou practically begs as your body withered in agony.

Midoriya only shrugged, “I believe that dwindling down the pain is the best way to train."

You gasped for breath, struggling to get even an ounce of oxygen.

“She’s not a damn dog!” Bakugou felt so helpless as he watched you struggled to inhale and he growled when your face starts to turn vermillion. “She can’t fucking breathe, you bastard!”

Cold washed over your body. Falling onto your side, you sucked in as much air as you can try to ignore the urge to vomit.

With such a disgusting poise, Midoriya beny down and sat you up. He forced you to lean against his chest just as you did with Bakugou. “Poor baby, you tried so hard to save you and Bakugou. You even attempted to use your quirk. Isn’t it scary? You still sleep with the lights on, don’t you?” He cradled you and his tone was just so condescending but you couldn’t do anything about it.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bakugou questioned.

“Oh, he doesn’t know,” Midoriya teased, keeping his eyes on you. He felt twisted arousal at those tear stained cheek and how you lips shimmered with spit. “The poor, little baby is terrified of the dark. Absolutely terrified!”

"What?"

"Pretty juvenile, isn't it?” He mocked, then turned his attention to the hero a couple feet from him. “To be honest, she didn't plan ever using her quirk again after that incident when she first got her quirk. You remember it, right? She was missing for hours, poor thing was stuck in the shadows all alone. But, after seeing you captured by that slimy fuck and my 'disappearance' poor thing blamed herself for not being strong enough. That day on she promised to become stronger to find me and make sure her dear friends will never be harmed again. Isn't that just sweet. The perfect hero story."

Multiple emotions flashed on Bakugou’s face; confusion, worry, anger and guilt. "Why— why would you become a hero for such a stupid reason, huh?! I can protect myself!" His words were sharp as he glared you down, hating how dazed you look. Despite his declarement, guilt tugged at his heart. He couldn’t help but think if he was just a little stronger and didn’t fuel your need to be a hero, than either of you would be in this situation.

Softly, the villain started to wipe away the drool that pooled in the corner of your mouth and the tears that had yet to dry from your face. You furrowed your brow and tried to focus on Bakugou and answer his question that sounded more like a plea.

"I just wanted to be strong, too. You and Izu-chan always protected me so I wanted to return the favor." The words were slurred but it still stirred something in both of the men.

"And just how sweet," Deku seethed, now gripping your cheeks so hard your lips became puckered. He pulldc your face close to his before he clicked his tongue and pushed your face away, letting your body dropped as he stood.

“Fuck,” you hissed. Your reactions were slow so your head hit the concrete with an audible thud.

Bakugou attempted to go to you to check you were okay, but Midoriya held up the remote.

“Ah, ah, ah,” He tutted at the hero with a wagging finger, “If you haven’t noticed, I get to say what goes and I don’t think I said you could go near her.”

Bakugou only growled like a feral dog but doesn’t move in fear of seeing you in such misery again. “You’re a bastard I hope you know that.”

“And what does that make you, Kaccan,” Midoriya’s tone was cold, so cold that the temperature dropped.

You stared down the remote, formulating a plan. If you could only grab the damn remote then he won’t hold so much power you both and you can move freely. Seeing that he was distracted by Bakugou, you pushed yourself up to stand. Not caring how your bones screamed to rest, you slinked up and reeled your fist up to punch him with all your might. A whoosh came from how fast your went to strike. Your breath caught in your throat as Midoriya seize your fist without even looking at you.

“You stupid, stupid girl,” He sung without any emotion. He snatched your jaw and shook your head, amusement in his eyes as you tried to kick and squirm. Without any effort, he threw you away and you fell to a heap onto the floor. “Stupid, stupid girl,” He repeated and then he pressed onto the remote.

A loud grunt cracked and echoed into the basement. You watched in horror as Bakugou crampled to the cement, trying his damndest to get the collar off. A shiver ran down your back, knowing exactly how he must feel.

“He didn’t didn't do anything!" You screeched.

"Right now he didn't," Midoriya shrugged, watching how the mighty fall with a smile.

Bakugou let out a shout he tried to hold back, not wanting to give Midoriya the satisfaction or to worry you. It was too late for that though as you crawled over to the villain. You clutched onto his pants, begging, “Please just let him go. Just make it stop please.” New tears started to form watching the most important person to you crumpled over in pain on his knees.

A gagging noise rings in your ears as his face is now red like a rose.

“Please!” You screeched, now hugging Midoriya’s legs and gazing up at him with watery eyes. Snot and tears ran down your visage as you repeated please over and over again. “I’ll do anything, just please let him go, he can’t breathe!” You babbled pleases as if it was the only words you know.

Midoriya’s eyes lit up a maniac green seeing you gravel at his feet. God, you were so fucking pathetic. His cock twitched as you begged you were made to.

"Anything?" He drawled out, not caring how Bakugou choked. It was only background noise to him.

"Yes, anything! Just please stop all of this, I'll do anything you say." There was clear desperation in your voice.

Midoriya let out a hum before answering and turning off the collar, "Call me Izu-chan again like you used when we were kids."

You tilt your head at the simple command. It was easy enough, you were about to reply then Bakugou gasps out, "Don’t do anything that sick bastard tells you to!"

Pure ire flashes on Midoriya’s face. He snarled as he looked at Bakugou’s quivering form trying to suck up oxygen and was about to press the button again until he hears your heavenly voice.

"I-Izu-chan, Izu-chan please don't!" You pulled yourself closer, so close that your breasts squished against his shins. You kept gaze up at Midoriya, trying to look innocent as possible to please him. Honestly, it was working because as you looked up at him with those teary eyes, he can’t help but notice how beautiful you look at his feet. Worshipping him as if he is a god. Midoriya reached down and cradled your cheek within his gloved palm. You closed your eyes and snuggled further into its warmth, trying to seem inconspicuous as you hear Bakugou start to stand. Pouting, you laid it on thick praying he kept his attention on you. "Don't hurt him! He-he's just being brash like usual. Please he doesn't know any better."

“You’re right,” Midoriya stared at you with adoration, but it fell when he locked gazes with the hero inches away from punching him in the face, “He doesn’t know any better.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened as he froze at how he was able to catch on so fast. He was about to send an explosion towards the villain when Midoriya kicks you further away from Bakugou and pressed the damn remote again.

You could only whimper out a little, “Katsu,” that breaks his heart. He went toward you again but he felt that pain once again. He fell to the floor not too far from you. Body exhausted, he just collapsed to heap on the floor. The shocks were gone as fast as they came, but before he could even attempt to crawl to you, Midoriya straddles his back. He tries to buck him off but his arms were grabbed and harshly forced behind his back.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Bakugou tried to say but the hand not holding his arms, pushed his head into the ground. He grunted when the side of his face hit the concrete, leaving him immobile. Midoriya adjusted himself so that he was now stranding the back of Bakugou’s thigh, spreading the hero’s leg.

He giggledvwhile cruelly shoving his knee into Bakugou’s crotch, "Now if you are both done interrupting me, we can finally get this show on the road."

A huff left Bakugou at the stimulation that grinded against his groin.

“What are doing you bastard!” Bakugou barked, slight desperation in his voice as his cock started to spring to life. Midoriya only ignored him as he pressed hard, reveling in the tiny groan that left Bakugou’s chest. “I said, what are you doing?” Bakugou squirmed more, but nothing happens.

Midoriya pressed his front into Bakugou’s back and whispered in his ear, “How does it feel to be the one pushed down. Not so fun is it?”

“What is this? Some sort of fucking revenge fantasy, sicko?” Bakugou groaned, hating how his body was betraying him.

Humming, Midoriya kept his knee grinding into the hero. Bakugou tried to scramble away, not wanting you to see him so weak, but Midoriya got a lot stronger with age. An uncanny amount.

Against the small of his back, Bakugou felt how hard Midoriya was. The need to vomit built up in his throat. Shuffling himself, the villain put himself between his childhood friend’s hips. Through the thin material of his sweatpants, Midoriya’s length rubbed against the line of his ass.

Leaning down so his lips brushed against the hero’s ear, Midoriya’s breath stuttered. He had been waiting for this moment for so long. His tip leaked in the confides of his slacks, begging to sink into Bakugou or your heat. The way Bakugou struggled against him only added more stimulation.

Not wanting to get too ahead of himself, Midoriya opened to see you crawling to the shadows on the wall. Sighing into Bakugou’s ear, the man under him shuddered. Still grinding his cock into Bakugou’s withering hips, he pressed the remote to see go slack against the floor. Your whimper had Bakugou turn his focus to your writhing form.

“S-stop,” His words had a double meaning.

Giving one last harsh thrust that if there weren’t clothes between the two men, his cock would have surely breached the hero’s hole, Midoriya got up. He clicked off the eletricity and followed how drool foamed out your mouth.

“Get on the bed. Sit at the head and wait, if you don’t,” He waved the remote in front of Bakugou’s flustered face, “You know what will happen.” Midoriya pointed with his chin at your form.

As Midoriya pulled his weight and grip from Bakugou, he went to the bed as instructed. Heaven knew he wanted to knock the motherfucker out, but your life was on the line. Settling into the metal bars of the headboard, he watched Midoriya go to your pliant form.

Or so he thought.

When Midoriya bent down to grab you, you snapped your foot up and kicked him right in the nose.

“Shit!” He cradled his nose, tears flooding his sight.

Sprinting to Bakugou, you reached for him and prepared to barrel into the darkness. Falling onto the bed, Midoriya quickly recovered and pinned you underneath him. You screamed and clawed at the bedsheets. Kicking and squirmed, you did anything you could to get him off you.

Midoriya grabbed your head and smothered your face into the cushions.

“Don’t,” He bit. Not at you, but at Bakugou who got ready to fight. “I’ll fucking snap her neck and make you fuck her cooling corpse.”

Grinding his teeth, Bakugou could only watch as Midoriya maneuvered your thrashing form. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he placed your body across thighs so you were butt was perked up on his lap.

“Damn, I thought Bakugou would be the brat, not you.”

“Fuck you!” You screeched.

You were so sick of being antagonized by him. Adrenaline in your system had you acting out of character. Wrenching your arms behind your back, Midoriya ripped off your shorts and your panties. Terrified, you fought more, not liking where this was going. Before you could move more, a thundering slap burned in your bare bum. Screaming, you whipped your head to Midoriya.

Tears pierced your waterline. He- he just spanked you like you were a child.

His face stone-cold, he didn’t offer any comfort. Bringing his hand down again, your feet kicked pathetically at the sting. He hit the same place again. Sobbing, your head fell into the bed. The fight in you left as quick as it came.

Seeing you were more calm, Midoriya rubbed his large, calloused hand over your burning bum. “You done?”

Whimpering, you nodded your head.

Despite your form sagging, he doesn’t lift you up. If anything, his hand wandered until his fingers brushed against your slit. Gasping, your head sprung up to try and make eye contact with him. He ignored you to spread your legs and get more of a view of your cunt.

“S-stop it,” You begged.

Midoriya dipped into your hole to gather some of the wetness that unwillingly spilled from you.

“Why stop when your pussy is so wet for me?”

Swirling your clit, your legs twitched from the stimulation. Going back to your hole, he breached you with two fingers. You winced from the intrusion. Thrashing, you didn’t want someone to touching you there, especially for the first time.

Midoriya caught attention to your flinch, “Oh, are you a virgin?”

A shit-eating grin spread across his face when you sob, not stopping shoving his thick fingers further into you. Looking over at Bakugou, he isn’t ignorant to how the hero’s nostrils flared. “Aww poor Kacchan, you wanted to get to her first, didn’t you?”

“Die,” Bakugou snarled, but his eyes didn’t leave the fingers splitting you open.

Midoriya huffed a laugh, and leaned down to you, “I bet he would have made it real special. Too bad all he’s gonna get is my sloppy seconds.”

Ripping his fingers from you, you gasped at suddenly being empty. Licking your escense from his appendages, Midoriya forced you up. Roughtly, he ripped off your shirt so you were completely bare. Without care, he threw you down between Bakugou’s legs, a pillow below you. Getting behind you, he propped your hips up so you were face down and ass up.

Not giving two shits what Midoriya says, Bakugou gripped onto one of your hands as a small form of comfort. You clutched onto him, fear turning your tummy in tiny twists.

Midoriya unzipped his pants and brought them down to pull his cock from the tight cloth. Sighing in relief, Midoriya stoked himself with a few weak pumps. One his knees, he dragged himself closer to inspect both of your holes on display for him. With thumb, he ran it down from your ring of muscles over your hole and to your clit. Brushing it, he went back to your hole, he hooked his thumb inside and pried you apart.

A shuttering moan left at being exposed for his greedy eyes. Not caring you weren’t prepped enough, Midoriya brought his cockhead to your pussy.

“W-wait!” You begged, but he only bullied his way inside.

Only the tip was inside and you were being ripped apart. Bakugou gasped your hand tighter. More and more of your ex-childhood friend shoved himself inside. At halfway, he pulled out until it was just the head, and then slammed all the way to the hilt.

Screaming into the pillow, you cried as he tore his way into you. His balls slapped against your clit as he started a brutal pace. Your nipples chaffed against the rough texture of the bedding.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Midoriya moaned.

He didn’t hold back his noises. Fucking into you, he groaned and whimpered, loving to finally be inside you. He had waited for years to feel how warm you were. When he was still a hormonal teen, he would spend hours yanking his cock to the thought of tearing you open. Who was he kidding? Even well into his adults years, he still fucked himself to you.

And him getting to you before Bakugou was the cherry on top.

A petty, insecure him wanted to shout, ‘I win!’ right at the man in front him. But staring at him, as he silently seethed at watching you get fucked by the man he hated, was much sweeter.

Crowding you, Midoriya leaned down to groan in your ear, “Look at you. Your sloppy cunt molding just for my cock. You were made for me.”

His head leaned down further to suck the length of your neck. Kissing the nape, he harshly bit into it and you screamed at the piercing ache. Tilting his hips, he hit the spongy part in you, a moan finally leaving you. He kept abusing it as his hand went down to your clit. Instinctively, you spread yourself further for him. His cock stretching you past your limits had your brain fog up in pleasure. Mouth gape, you whimpered into the pillow.

Working you over, Midoriya didn’t stop his pace or how he twiddled your clit. Too fast for your liking, a tightness tugged in your lower stomach.

“N-no.”

Midoriya caught on to how you scrambled away from the pleasure, “Oh, are you- fuck- are you gonna cum?”

In denial, you shook your head.

Laughing at you, Midoriya didn’t stop, just kept going as he was. Pinching your clit, your legs spasmed. You bit your lip to hold off the orgasm, but it was too late.

With a pound into your g-spot, you moaned as you came all over the villain’s dick. Groaning, Midoriya’s hips stuttered, but he was far from completing with you. Licking your neck, he bit into your flesh.

The pleasure quickly turned into pain as he didn’t stop. “Stop, it h-hurts!”

“Good.”

Ramping up his thrusts, you screeched into the pillow. Clutching onto it with your free hand, Bakugou stroked your hair to help you work through the agony. Tilting your head up, you looked up at the hero with bleary eyes. Drooling dripped down from your lips for a different reason.

From your fucked out expression, Bakugou almost came just from that. He knew it was wrong, but his cock has never been harder. You looked so beautiful ruined. If only it was him splitting you apart until you were crying.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for the next orgasm that threatened to rip through you. Midoriya’s thrust turned sloppy, he finally let up on your clit to focus on his own end. Gripping your hips, he forced them back to fuck you further on him.

You screeched and clenched around him when he bumped your cervix. At that, Midoriya stilled his hips. Cum shot out from him and deep in your cunt. He didn’t move until all of his cum spilled inside you. Your body hummed and twitched.

Sagging down, you were exhausted. Midoriya pulled out from you and you whimpered at being empty after being fucked open. Though, he didn’t leave you alone. His hand cupped your cunt, not letting any cum dribble out.

“Your turn,” Midoriya addressed Bakugou.

“What?” The hero asked stupidly.

“I did say you would get my sloppy seconds, didn’t I?” He tilted his head, mocking him. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Steeling his resolve, he agreed, “Fine.”

Like a puppet on strings, Midoriya pushed you onto Bakugou’s lap. Hand still cupped over you cunt, Bakugou tugged down his sweatpants and boxers. Sighing as his cock slapped against his clothed stomach, he grabbed your thigh to bring you closer.

With Midoriya’s help, you were positioned over his cock. Pressing against your back, you noticed he didn’t put his own away. Ignoring it, you locked gazes with Bakugou. He returned it.

Taking the reigns, Bakugou tugged you from Midoriya’s grip and he let him. Pulling his hand from your cunny, Bakugou replaced it with the blunt head of his cock. Cum spilled down to your thighs. Using it as lube and still stretched open, Bakugou slipped inside you with little resistance. He was a little bit bigger than Midoriya and thicker. Despite that, you didn’t wince as you sank down to the hilt.

Grasping you, Bakugou cradled your face. With little patience, he began thrusting inside you. Moaning, you didn’t stray away from his ruby eyes. Here, in this moment, you could pretend it’s just you two. Maybe the tension between you finally bubbled over and he took your virginity like you secretly wanted. And maybe, just maybe, Bakugou could take it like he longed for as much you did.

Matching his momentum, Bakugou brought his thumb over you parted lips. Dragging it across your bottom lip, he slipped his thumb inside. Moaning, you licked at the oddly sweet skin.

Midoriya cut into the moment, “Don’t you dare cum until I say so.”

Glancing at him, you see him sitting at the end of the bed, working himself back up slowly. His hand twisting over his length a lot slower than Bakugou’s thrusts.

Hooking his thumb on your bottom teeth, he brought your attention back to him. Eyes not straying from his, he let his hand slither down to hold your throat. The grip gentle. You sunk into his hold, it so much softer than you ever expected.

His other hand went to your neglected clit, circling it. Moaning for him. your thighs shook. Hands on his plush chest, you traveled down to grip his wrist. If he kept going, you would cum and you didn’t want to know what Midoriya would do.

Bakugou took at as encouragement and pressed further.

“I- I can’t!” You hiccupped.

Taking mercy on you, Midoriya said with a wavering voice, “Cum. Now.”

Not wasting a moment, Bakugou pushed you down onto the bed. Hand still on your throat, he hovered over you. In the tangle, his cock fell out, but he quickly fucked it back in you. Like a man starved, he slammed his dick in and out of you.

Groaning, you tilted your hips to encasing him inside you more. With his knees, he spread you further and went back to your bundle of nerves.

“You’re so pretty,” Bakugou leaned down, and bit right where Midoriya did before. He tried his best to cover all of that bastard with himself.

His sweet words had your vision swarm. Kicking your feet and curling your toes, his next bite did you in. Cumming with a loud moan right in his ear, Bakugou quickly followed. His cum mixed with Midoriya’s.

Flopping on top of you, he kissed where he bit you as an apology. Deep in you, his cock softened and fell out. Whimpering, you welcomed being empty once more. Your hips were battered and bruised.

“How cute,” Midoriya mocked.

From under Bakugou, you stared at the man who towered the both of you, still stroking his own cock. “I’m far from done with you two.”

Twisting his head to the villain, Bakugou sneered, “Fuck off. We did what you wanted.” He refused to move, covering your form with his to protect you.

The shorter male’s face dropped. “If both don’t get to work sucking my cock, I’ll shock you until you’re fucking stupid and nothing more than little fuck dolls.” Hand tight around the remote, you didn’t take his threat lightly.

Crawling out from under the hero, you went down on your knees on the cold concrete floors. The bones already ached. Glaring at Midoriya, Bakugou didn’t break eye contact as he got on his knees right next to you. It was comically how his form swallowed yours.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Midoriya had you two between his knees. Raising his brow in impatience, you leaned over to lick his cockhead. Bakugou copied you to focus on his balls. Sucking one of them in his mouth, Midoriya bucked up forcing you to take more of his length.

“S-so good,” With both hands, he gripped you and Bakugou’s hair.

Pulling off his cock, you kissed furthered down until you met with Bakugou’s mouth. Departing from Midoriya’s sack, Bakugou licked up until your mouths connected. Over his dick, you both made out, tongues brushing against each other.

Your moan vibrated against Midoriya causing him to shutter.

“For a virgin, you are a natural.”

Clenching your eyes closed, you tuned out his voice and went down to his balls. Taking your place, he went to Midoriya’s cock and took it all in one go. Leaning over you, your lids went half mast, watching Bakugou swallow the villain causing him to give a girlish moan.

Moving to his other ball, you gave it attention, sucking it your mouth. Your tongue swirled around it. Bakugou moved up and down his cock with expertise, smirking when Midoriya whimpered again.

“F-fuck!” He groaned and pulled you both off him.

Ripping his hand from the one in Bakugou’s hair, he stroked his cock and aimed it at you. With two pumps, he came all over your face. You flinched back as it almost hit your right eye.

Releasing you, he leaned forward as shame washed over you. Cum still spilled from your cunt. Being the only one covered in cum and naked, you felt dirty. This time, tears did pour over as you refused to make eye contact with the man above you.

Sensing your shame and pissed at being degraded, Bakugou glared at Midoriya. Hatred seeped from his pores.

Midoriya merely smirked. Tapping your collar, you were forced to look at him.

“It’s going to be so much fun completely breaking you two.”

#yandere bnha #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere midoriya #yandere deku #yandere x you #bakugou x reader

287 notes · View notes

headcanons-n-shit · 5 months

Note

How about the first kiss the ffxiv boys initiate - bonus Magnai and Artoirel please? 🥺

We're being cute today u_u

First kisses (ff14boissss)

Thancred is quite used to trusting his instincts and acting before he fully finishes a thought. His hands and body move faster than his brain, grabbing at your shoulders, spinning you around, pressing you against the rough stonework. His lips slot against yours like theyre meant to fit together, that nearly-chapped texture, the slight indent beneath your tongue, as though there is a scar across his mouth you never noticed until this very moment. The slight intake of breath as a takes a half step towards you, brings your bodies flush together, one hand curled around your neck, his other arm braced against the stonework beside your head.

The sounds of clanking greaves passes. Thancred lingers, your noses brushing, his half-lidded gaze taking in the blush high on your cheeks. Just to be sure the danger has passed, he tells himself as he forces himself to pull away.

Certainly not because he never wants this moment to end.

Urianger is as meticulous in this as he is in all things. He made reservations at the Last Stand. He memorized the route he was going to take you through the Noumenon. He had an tall, gnarled, private oak tree all picked out.

What he didn't account for was the way a storm predicted to pass just south of the island would be suddenly, violently caught by a high wind and blown over the city. The two of you rush for the cover of a nearby pavilion, your coats thrown up over your heads to protect yourselves from the worst of the sudden downpour. Or, at least, to try to-- Urianger ends up looking like a wet rat, and you not much better. But the sight has you doubled-over laughing, and, not soon after, him as well.

Your first kiss is there, under that random pavilion in the Sharlyan harbor, tasting of rainwater and serendipitous joy.

G'raha wakes slowly in the unyielding cradle of the throne in the Crystal Tower. His body feels... odd. Logically, he knows that he has been asleep for a very long time. His muscles should feel stiff, his eyes crusty. But the preservation of the Crystal Tower is complete-- his neck doesn't even crack as his head rolls.

And then the memories hit him.

He flings himself from his throne, colliding with your at-speed and taking you both down onto the unforgiving crystal floor. The soul vessel cracks with a clear tone. His arms cradle your head, but his knees crack against the floor, but he doesn't care. He's alive. You're alive. You're both alive.

His first kiss misses your mouth by a malm, but on his second you grab him by his braid to guide him better. You're both crying, gasping against each others mouths, but you're alive.

You're alive.

Estinien tries not to feel nervous as you invite him into your room. The two of you. Havent really gotten to talk. After ghimlyt dark, and then you were swept away to The First, and now the world is falling apart again, and. It really does feel like now or never. If he is going to fall at the end of the universe, he wants to do so with no regrets.

Your back hits the door as it closes, and estinien looms over you, his hair tickling your cheek where it comes to rest feather-light against your skin. His eyes are blown wide, and his thumb brushes oh-so-softly against your lower lip.

"If you dont want this," Estinien growls, "then just say the word, and I will cease at once."

But your arms come up around his neck, and you never do.

Aymeric is getting sick and tired of being interrupted during his carefully-planned dates with you. Dragons, primals, assassination attempts, cats. He's trying to be a proper Ishgardian gentleman about this, but there is only so much a man can take.

Today you're wandering the Jeweled Crozier together, ohhing and ahhing at the new leatherwork on display and the new selection of fabrics for the season and even the new selection of lances from the Skysteel. It's a rare sunny day, and it can almost be called warm, and, just as Aymeric is about to slide his hand into yours, your linkpearl rings.

Something or another pulling you away from him again, you try to explain apologetically, though Aymeric doesn't let you get more than a few words out before he is leaning forward and kissing you, gently and soft.

"Come home soon," he says with a smile, and it's a good thing it's nothing urgent because you definitely spend five whole minutes just composing yourself.

Haurchefant tries not to appear impatient as he works through the last bits of paperwork for the day. It's so late it's nearly early again, and you're still not back from patrol. You're competent. More than competent. He doesn't need to worry about you, but. he does anyways.

And he breathes a sigh of relief when you try to slip soundlessly through the door, the crunching of snow caked to your cloak and armor giving you away. He doesn't bother trying not to look eager as he jumps from his seat. The two of you argue, as you shrug your armor in front of the fire and he fixes you a cup of steaming hot cocoa. Youre beautiful and passionate and infuriatingly stubborn when you choose to dig you heels in, and he nearly spills your drink all over your front as he shuts you up with his mouth.

"Dont worry me like that again," he pleads, and you can make no promises for the way he kisses you again.

Sidurgu stares at the empty space where Fray once been and just. Breathes. He expected. Something. Some kind of feeling to twist his chest. Guilt, maybe, or grief, or. something. But Fray and Myste had stood together and smiled as they were swallowed again by the Abyss, tucked again into your soul, and he feels...

relief that you are alive. Happy, to have seen them again, but also to have this whole situation behind him. And when you turn to him, blood spattered on your face and your hair all flyaway and he loves you.

It's easy to drop his blade. To step away from the violence and cradle your face gently in his hands. Less easy to pause there, staring into your eyes, waiting, because he wants this, but, more than that, he wants you to want this. And he feels joy, when your lips meet his. He feels whole.

"Ewwwwwwww," Rielle whines and makes a fake gagging noise, and you and Sidurgu both feel nothing but fond irritation.

BONUS

Magnai can't get the image of you out of his mind-- standing in the light of the ovoo, resplendent and beautiful, Khagan of the Steppe. It haunts him as he celebrates with the rest of the Oronir, drinking far too much fermented mare's milk to try to chase it away.

It doesn't work. Especially not when you're right there, laughing as Hien shakes your shoulder and retells the events of the day, how you turned from the ovoo immediately into scything down Imperials like you hadn't already been fighting all day, and you're impossible, you're--

looking up at Magnai with big, startled eyes as he leans down and plants a kiss on your lips. It's sloppy, and he tastes of fermented mare's milk, and the whole of the Oronir and the Buduga and your friends are jeering and cheering, but neither of you pull away until you're out of breath.

Artoirel is only partially drunk when it happens. It's late, just the two of you and the last two glasses of a full bottle of wine, the fireplace long burned low into smouldering embers, the barely-there orange glow casting your laughing face in beautiful, dramatic shadows. The way your nose scrunches up and you half-hide your mouth behind you hand and it strikes him, then, just how close you two are sitting, your thighs brushing beneath the table, your head knocking against his shoulder as you collapse into helpless giggles.

It's the most natural thing in the world for him to cup your cheek in his palm and tilt your face up towards his. To take in the way your eyes go half-lidded and your mouth parts around the whisper of his name. Your whole body strains towards him as he leans down the last few ilms and lets his mouth meet yours.

Forget whatever preconceptions you even held about this man: there is nothing gentlemanly about the way he kisses.

181 notes · View notes

rae-writes · 2 years

Text

@[...] has posted a photo

hq boys x reader

wc : 0.5k

warnings : lil suggestive for the last two

synopsis : how they show your relationship to the public

Always posts candid shots. He has collections on instagram of just your pictures and his snapchat followers are graced with at least one a day. There’s you splashing around in the water on your anniversary trip to the Bahamas, you making faces at the fish in the aquarium, you swatting at his best friend with a duster in hand and piece of toast in your mouth…he just thinks you’re beautiful all the time, and he loves the memories, so he shares them with the world to show you’re his. (his fans absolutely adore you and the pay-back candid shots you post of him every now and then).

Hinata, Osamu, Noya, Aone, Goshiki, Makki, Yaku, Akaashi, Asahi, Kindaichi, Suna

Posts pictures of you two together. Even if he doesn’t necessarily like taking pictures, much less of himself, he adores being in them with you. He loves being able to go through his camera roll and just see the memories he’s made with you; he can see how you’re smiling at him instead of the camera, smile at how your hand is intertwined with his, laugh when he comes across the one where you looked offended at the amount of icing he’d wiped on your face. If he’s gonna post anything, it’ll be with you. He has no hesitations about letting the fans know he loves you- he’d scream it at the world if you wanted him to. Plus, the comments you leave on his posts make him giddy (and his friends putting on a broadway performance of the ‘jealous fans’ is always a sight. The fans eat it all up.)

Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Ushijima, Tendou, Oikawa, Bokuto, Sakusa, Akaashi

Posts a singular picture of himself (he’s gotta let them know he’s yours). His eyes will be half-lidded in the photo, pupils practically heart shaped. There’s either the faintest trace of a blush or a full bridge of red across his nose but there will be a smirk on his face. The laid-back lazy kind that shows he’d be fine with not moving for the rest of his life. Your hand is wrapped snugly around his throat, pretty sparkly nails glinting in the light. His own hand and matching nails are loosely gripping your wrist, keeping your hand where he wants it to be. You can see a couple strands of your hair in the side of the frame and the half shadow of your head, showing you were clearly on top of him. He’s taken— surely they’ll know now. (They do. And the fans fucking love you two for this.)

Goshiki, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Kenma, Tendou, Suna, Lev, Kuroo, Osamu, Makki, Oikawa

Posts a singular picture of you (he’s gotta let them know you’re his). Your lips are glossy with spit- yours or his no one knows - and they’re pulled into a wild grin. There’s a flush accentuating your blown out eyes, trailing all the way down to where his hand is curled around your neck. The shirt on your body is obviously his with the way it falls off your shoulder, doing anything but hiding the dark marks littering the exposed flesh. Your own hand is lifted, fingers wrapped around his golden chain, bringing attention to the letter charm on the end— it’s your first initial. The sex-like state your hair is in makes the picture even hotter and fans are screaming in the comments, not knowing who’s position they’d rather be in. (There’s even more of an uproar when it becomes your profile picture).

Iwaizumi, Kenma, Suna, Atsumu, Matsukawa, Tsukishima, Futakuchi, Semi, Akinori, Yaku, Daishou

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kageyama x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu miya x reader #kenma x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi keji x reader #tendou x reader #kuroo x reader #goshiki x reader #sakusa x reader #osamu miya x reader #suna x reader

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writingforstraykids · 1 month

Note

I requested the breeding kink for Channie and Jeongin. Could you add Minho?🤤💌

How often?

Pairing: Chanin | Jeongchan | Minchan | Minjeong (?)

Word Count: 1777

Warnings/Tags: smut, whiny!sub!chan, switch!innie, soft!dom!min, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, begging, threesome

A/N: I do hope you enjoy the mess down there👀🖤

Part of the 💌 event. More here

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Jeongin glanced up curiously as his hyung strolled over. They were currently the only ones home, and he hoped Chan would make some time for him, using the opportunity of their solitude. He chuckled, surprised as the older dropped onto the sofa between his legs and rested his head on his stomach. “You're okay, Channie hyung?” he asked, running his hand through his hair.

“Mhm, I'm okay,” he nodded and gently pushed the hem of his shirt further up, exposing his stomach. Chan practically buried his face in his stomach, inhaling deeply.

Jeongin frowned softly and scratched his scalp lovingly. “You're sure?”

“Yes,” Chan nodded quickly and closed his eyes comfortably. He felt overwhelmed by his lover's natural scent, the feeling of his warm skin against his cheek, and his long fingers threading through his hair. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” he asked curiously, and his eyes widened a little as Chan glanced up at him through his lashes. His pupils grew darker, and he visibly pressed down his hips on the sofa. Oh.

“It's embarrassing,” he shook his head, nuzzling his nose into his firm tummy.

“I don't mind, it's okay,” he encouraged him, getting curious.

“I just…remember last time? When you told me to keep your cum in?” he asked, blushing softly at the memory of him writhing beneath his lover in an effort to do as he was told.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, ears burning up at that memory. Chan had looked heavenly. “Can't stop thinking about that,” he admitted. “You looked so pretty.”

“I…I want you to stuff me with your cum until I'm so full I can't hold it anymore. Make me so full. Give me all your babies and…,” he trailed off as Jeongin picked up on his train of thought.

“Shit, Channie, didn't expect you to have a breeding kink,” he said, and Chan buried his face in his stomach with a soft groan. “Fuck, okay, yes,” he nodded quickly.

“Yeah?” he asked softly. “We don't have to.”

“No, I really want to,” he said, biting his lower lip. “Wanna make my hyungie feel good, yeah?”

Chan smiled at him, sweet as ever, dimples showing. “Love you so much, my pretty baby.”

“Mhm, love you too. Now get undressed,” he said and reached down to pull his pants off.

“Wait, right now?” he asked stunned.

“You can't promise me all that dirty shit and then expect me to just wait for another time,” he argued and raised his eyebrows at him.

“Mhm, yeah, okay,” he nodded eagerly and scrambled to his feet. “Upstairs?”

“No, right here,” he shook his head.

“We-we'll make a mess, Innie,” he tried.

“Don't care,” he shrugged and shuffled down his pants.

Chan swallowed at the sight of his dick resting against his stomach, already leaking precum. “I-uh, they'll be back soon.”

“And what's so bad about that, huh? You love being everyone's baby, and I love them watching me ruin you,” he smirked, and Chan blushed heavily before nodding.

“Okay,” he chuckled shyly and took his shirt off.

Jeongin smirked and sat up, pulling him into his lap. He kissed him firmly and cupped him through his pants, making Chan mewl and press up against his hand eagerly. Pulling away from the kiss, he met Chan's wide, blown eyes and couldn't stop himself from smiling at the blissed-out look on his face. “So excited already, pretty boy?”

Chan bit back a groan as he pressed his hand down on his aching dick and nodded quickly. “Yes, baby.”

“I'll go grab some lube, yeah? You just get undressed and comfortable,” he told him, and Chan did as he said, getting comfortable on the sofa. Jeongin took his time preparing him, sharing sweet and lazy kisses as he did. He loved how sweet Chan got like this, trusting him fully and handing over all control, letting him do whatever he wanted to. Chan soon got whinier beneath him, writhing and begging for more. How could he deny him?

Chan would notice that touch no matter when or where. There was something so controlled but soft and loving about it that it could only be him. “Hyung,” he whimpered, nuzzling his face into his hand. His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled, realizing he had been right.

“What is my kitten doing, hm?” Minho's soft voice sent a shiver down his body, and he couldn't hold back the needy moan leaving his lips. Minho's voice just had that effect on him. “Letting our maknae take care of you?” Minho reached out for Jeongin and gently brushed back his hair. “Such a good boy, taking care of our Channie.”

“Mhm, yes, hyung,” Jeongin moaned softly. “Couldn't stop myself.”

Minho glanced down at Chan writhing on the sofa, continuous weak whimpers leaving him, looking completely blissed out. “How often?” he asked, soothingly running his hand through Chan's sweaty curls.

“Dunno,” Chan moaned in response. He had lost count of how often Jeongin had made him cum already.

“Three times,” he answered for him. “But pretty intense, hyungie,” he said and growled as Chan clenched around him with a whimper. “Won't stop begging for more.”

“Wanna be full with your babies,” Chan babbled, no filter anymore. “Please, Innie, don't stop,” he groaned and shuddered with a silent cry as the younger hit his prostate again.

Minho exchanged a look with Jeongin, and the younger could tell that new discovery took him by surprise. He watched them both for another brief moment before locking eyes with Jeongin. “Slow down, baby.”

“B-But-,” he whined; he was so close already.

“Slow down, I don't want you to hurt him,” he said and eyed Chan suspiciously, whose eyes were filling with tears with every hard thrust Jeongin delivered.

“Okay, hyung,” he gave in and slowed down, looking at him with wide eyes as Chan cried out at the loss of intensity.

“No, please,” he whimpered.

Minho gently lifted his head and sat down, letting him rest in his lap. “Channie, my love, you're okay. Doing so well taking Innie like that.”

“I'm a good boy?” he asked timidly, face contorting with pleasure as Jeongin dragged his dick along his prostate.

“Such a good boy,” Minho nodded fondly and caressed his hair, brushing it off his face. “Feeling good, baby?” he asked their youngest.

“Yes, hyungie,” he nodded and gently lifted his legs onto his shoulders, changing the angle and thrusting deeper. He leaned down to kiss him, and Chan whimpered deliciously against his lips.

Minho watched him closely and smirked at the signs of his nearing release. Jeongin was getting more vocal, hips stuttering and thighs trembling. He buried his hand in his hair and pulled him up, chuckling as he made his head heavier to increase the pull. “Look at you,” he said fondly, and Jeongin moaned in response. “Such a good baby, taking care of our Channie boy.”

“Yes, hyung, I took good care of him,” he smiled happily, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as Chan tensed up, clenching him hard and covering their chests once again. “Fuck,” he moaned out and couldn't control himself, thrusting into Chan hard and desperate for a few times before spilling into him all over again. He dropped down onto him shakily, spent from his own three prior orgasms, and tried to push himself up again as Chan whimpered his name.

“Shh, baby,” Minho soothingly fondled his hair. “You did so well; let your hyung handle this now.” Minho slipped from beneath Chan and gently lifted Jeongin off him, ensuring he was comfortable beside him. He brushed back his hair and gave him a soft kiss. “If you prepare yourself while I take care of Channie I'll reward you after, yeah?”

“Yes, hyungie, please,” he whispered eagerly, a heavy blush settling on his cheeks. Minho giggled and planted another tiny kiss on his nose and forehead.

“Minho hyung,” Channie whined and reached out for him. “Need you.”

Minho moved between his thighs and gently fondled them. “Mhm, hyung’s going to take care of you, pretty boy. You're so full already you're making a mess of the sofa. I'll give you one more, and then that's enough for today, yeah?”

“O-Okay,” he nodded, trying to keep it all in until Minho was ready.

“Alright, pretty boy, relax, yeah?” he asked, and Chan did, wincing softly as some of Jeongin’s cum dribbled down his cheeks. Minho didn't waste much time, easing his dick inside and biting back an obscene moan at the feeling. Chan felt warm and still so tight, walls fluttering as he pushed deeper. “Fuck, you're such a mess,” he groaned at the feeling of pushing Jeongin’s cum deeper into his wet heat.

Chan beneath him whined deliciously at that comment. Jeongin reached out for him and intertwined their hands as he started preparing himself for Minho later. “Feels so good, hyung,” Chan moaned in pure bliss, and Minho started moving.

Minho stuck to deep, slow thrusts, not wanting to hurt Chan, who didn’t seem to notice much anymore. His stomach flipped, watching his lover's blissed-out expression and hearing the sweet little sounds leaving his lips. “You two can’t behave for once when I’m gone,” he laughed, and Jeongin snorted in response.

“Not my fault, I swear,” he told him, moaning softly as his fingers pushed deeper. “Only gave him what he wanted so badly.”

“Min,” Chan whined sweetly beneath him, head falling back. “So close,” he whimpered, and Minho soothingly rubbed his thigh.

“That’s alright, kitten, you’re doing so well,” he assured him and soothingly kissed him. “Just let go for me, yeah?” he whispered, and Chan whimpered in response before shuddering around him, covering Minho’s shirt. Minho picked up pace and pushed as deep as he could as he came not to waste a single drop. Chan moaned obscenely at the feeling, and if he hadn’t been so tired already, Minho would’ve gone again. He pulled out with a soft grunt and spread Chan’s legs, humming softly at the desperate whimper leaving his hyung’s lips. “Innie baby?” he asked, and the younger hummed softly.

“Wanna help your hyung clean up while I take care of you?” he asked, and Chan’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Fucks sake, you two are insane,” he breathed out but got settled between Chan’s legs, shoving a pillow beneath him. He smirked at Chan before spreading his cheeks and licking up between them with a sweet moan, collecting Minho’s and his cum. The groan that left his lips as Minho pushed inside him shot vibrations up Chan’s body, making Minho grin. Yeah, that would do it to grant them all some fun.

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luneariaa · 19 days

Text

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ ONE DAY.

not much proofread, plot going random, just wanted to write about him. anyway, haibara appearance <3

tagging @jadeee bc why not? hehe 👀

. dividers by @/cafekitsune ! 💛

He remembered those days when you guys used to hang out around the local park after school. You would've sat by one of the swings, and no one's around to stop you from doing so. Nanami remembered on how much Haibara loved to be there as well; often being the one who wanted to push your swing instead.

It's a quite fond memory that he silently held onto, sometimes wishing that he could go back to those times. But alas, it's nothing but a mere wish, and some old memories of the past, yet still freshly engraved within his own mind.

His chocolate eyes scanned around the currently almost empty park; no one familiar in sight at this hour of the day. It still hasn't even reached the night yet, but the people who stayed outside have lessened significantly. The air around him feels quite rare even to those who have known him, which was filled with silent longing and slightly more relaxed than usual.

Nanami may not show it much, but his eyes are very telling in those specific matters. There's no way for one to return to the past-- to remain as a completely innocent child, blinded by the problems that the world itself have caused by its people. That's life, after all.

His eyes then wandered over a certain swing that's being blown a bit by the wind. For a split second, the blonde-haired male could've sworn he could see Haibara himself sitting there while sending him his usual bright grin. Though, it only lasted for a few moments before he snapped himself back to reality.

Was he really that tired..?

The sudden rush of memories of the past filled his awakened state of mind-- remembering the days where Haibara used to push and drag him around playfully, whether it's to get some meals or even just for fun. The way he speaks; it's the epitome of the bright sun itself, to which is quite blinding in various ways to those who experienced it.

Haibara's optimism can be so heartwarming, yet it burns so deeply within one's memory.

The sounds, the laughter you three have shared in the past; he could've heard it clearly echoing throughout the empty park, even if it's just from his old memories alone.

It's not something he would admit so easily, but today is one of those days where Nanami genuinely misses the old days deeply.

"Ah, figured you would be here." A voice with a sense of familiarity filled his senses-- ringing through the evening air as the said person begins to approach his lone figure. They are adults now, no longer the child they used to be. Yet somehow, even you, wanted to become a kid all over. It's just one of those days.

When he turned his head to give you a proper look, he had this almost unreadable expression etched upon his face. It's quite unexpected for him to see you roaming out here.

"What are you doing here at this hour? Shouldn't you be at home already?"

His tone isn't one of harshness, but rather has a hint of concern and curiosity-- and at least, a bit of protectiveness. He knew on how you barely even go to the park anymore since 'that' incident, and mainly only go there whenever you need to clear your mind off from something and such.

"I just wanted to clear my mind a bit. Didn't know you would be here too." A reply that he expected, so he simply nodded in understanding.

A brief silence ensues between the two of you, one that's quite comforting due to the mutual and longtime connection you both have shared over the years. While you aren't that close with anyone else, the bond you shared with Nanami grows stronger as ever.

Without even noticing, the both of you have shared the same look towards that one specific swing; the memory within your minds are still so fresh even when times have long past. It's starting to get a little too nostalgic, so you have to tear your gaze away from it not too long after.

It'll pass, they said. But why did you always find yourself returning to even the slightest hint of darkness; especially to this specific place when it hurts you a bit more?

Slowly, you began to walk past him and sat down on one of the empty swings, moving it yourself. His gaze never left from you while doing so.

The whole scene ahead of him is so achingly familiar, even giving him the same feeling of yearning from within. There was something about the quietness of the air; the incoming darkening skies above you both that's so relaxing despite the whole feeling you two are experiencing at the moment.

"What are you thinking about?" He's the first to break the silence lingering between the two of you-- the slightest sounds from the swing you're on seemed to stop by his words.

You remained quiet for a bit more, taking immediate notice on how he has settled himself on the bench nearby, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Nothing much," you attempted to brush it off so casually. "Just.. tired, I suppose."

"Ah.."

"From what?" He questioned in a rather soft tone, genuinely wanting you to speak out to him about whatever has been possibly bothering your mind. Nanami genuinely doesn't want you to drown within it alone, letting his actions clear and known.

"I don't know anymore, to be honest. Everything, I suppose." None of it makes it better, thus the words and thoughts that have formed inside your own mind is quite a jumbled mess.

"I even, you know, considered to leave Jujutsu High at some point even before you decided to return there. But then again, I will have no place to go."

Nanami shifted his gaze momentarily, silently pondering over your words for a good few seconds. "So, you're still considering over the thought." You simply nodded, letting your eyes wandered lower.

"Don't you desire the same, Kento?"

Your statement caught him off guard for a while there, yet they were nothing short but truth. There's a faint change within his features, yet it only goes unnoticed by you.

Truly, he ever expressed the same thoughts to you not too far back then, and he did realize on how you been having that idea in your mind as well.

"I mean, I do too."

"I'm sure you're aware on how I've already given it some proper thoughts about it before."

You nodded wordlessly, not having the right words that you could let out at this moment. There seems to be a sudden shift in the atmosphere; your eyes looked heavy, yet it wasn't caused by the lack of sleep whatsoever.

Slowly, but surely, Nanami decided to stand from the bench he's been sitting on and approached your preoccupied form-- carefully placing one of his hands around your shoulders to provide at least some comfort that you might needed, while guiding you to move yourself away from the swing, and toward the empty bench.

"I don't want to leave you here alone, Ken."

He froze once he heard your words, staring at your face for a bit. He doesn't know what to say, truth be told. But then again, even words couldn't help much in situations like this, because it's simply irreversible.

"Don't join us too soon. Go and finish your duties first."

"Me and Haibara can wait."

Haibara. Right, Haibara.. It's like a slap of reality once the realization fully hit him right in the face. Has he been so exhausted lately, that he almost forgets about it? The mere thought of it already puts a heavy weight upon his heart, and now he has to face it once again. Oh, how he wishes to erase the thought itself, yet to no avail. It's in fact, the truth he has to face at this waking moment.

".. Right."

"It won't be long, I hope. So please, wait for me, okay?"

A bright smile suddenly adorns your face so beautifully, which causes an immense change for the whole vibes of the current situation. You're no longer appearing to be gloomy as before; everything feels a bit more lighter now. It's almost surreal, yet he has faced a lot more questionable stuff for the time he lived his life.

"Always! I could wait for you forever if I'm able to!" Has your skin felt this cold earlier..? No amount of heat could possibly get rid of it, yet you couldn't care less. It doesn't matter to you at this point, because Nanami himself came to visit.

It's not surprising that he chose to suppress his true emotions even right now; avoiding any hints of wanting to have a mental breakdown or anything, especially in front of you when you looked so.. happy.

So, he returned the smile you have given him, to which is a small, yet a warm one; one that is able to melt your heart all over.

"I will return to you both," he promises, taking ahold of one of your hands in his; voice filled with honesty and finality.

"Just-- don't join us too soon!"

"Me and Haibara would wait for you by the swings here!"

That's the thing. There's a certain type of child-like innocence dripping within your words alone, which made his breath hitch slightly as he tried to remain visibly composed; not wanting to worry you or get rid of the happy expression you emitted at this moment.

The two of you never deserved this at all. The world is being so cruel and unfair to you.

While you have been released from his comforting grasp not too long ago, you have kept a safe distance between you two-- standing just ahead of him. A familiar hand was placed just atop of your shoulder; the said figure emerging out of nowhere with a look of content, remaining completely harmless.

He's been taking care of you, after all.

The mixture of emotions is becoming too real for him. Nanami could feel these deep pits of sadness bubbling up within him, and at the same time, the feeling of pure relief is also present. He's just genuinely grateful and thankful because of you two for a lot of reasons.

It's so nostalgic, yet depressing in a way.

"Until I return.."

"Both of you please stay safe." It feels a bit odd for saying that, as if you two are still alive and breathing. But that's beside the point.

Even a stoic man like him has his own weakness; feeling his eyes getting a little watery as he turned his back on you and Haibara, getting ready to leave the park as well.

"We will!" The black-haired sunshine exclaims with full confidence and enthusiasm, now holding onto your hand tightly while waving using the other at Nanami's retreating figure.

The blonde-haired male couldn't help but to let his lips curve upwards ever so slightly, without facing you two as he leaves the park. He's aware he has a purpose in life, and he would continue fulfilling his intended duties.

"I'll return someday soon."

".. one day."

#aria's post 𖥔 ݁ ˖#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #yu haibara #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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dameronscopilot · 1 year

Note

Secondlyyyyy just me pms-ing and terribly craving Steven Grant being the best boy to his girl on her period and even making her cramps subside with his help yknow ok bye xo

forbidden delights

Steven Grant x f!reader

Word Count: 1k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, PERIOD SEX (fingering, oral, penetrative), unprotected p in v, creampie, cum eating, soft and horny Steven, BLOOD, a smidge of lactation kink, this! is! filthy!

The small sliver of light from the hallway creeping across the floor of your room expands as Steven nudges the door further open, noiselessly stepping inside. Eyes still adjusting to the darkness, he misses the way you’re sprawled out across the mattress, sheets kicked down to your ankles and an arm slung across your forehead.

But he doesn’t miss the small whimper that falls from your lips.

“Love?”

His voice is tinged with concern as he quickly makes his way over to you and crawls into bed, his hands immediately reaching out to pull you against his solid form. You relax into him, fingers reaching out to grasp the soft cotton of his t-shirt, only to groan again as another wave of pain courses through your abdomen. Steven cups the side of your face with one hand, brushing a thumb over the hinge of your jaw.

“How can I help?” he asks gently, his other hand curled against your neck.

You know what you want.

You know exactly what you want from him.

What you need.

But you’ve only ever done this with Jake. And your face burns with embarrassment at the thought of asking for it. At the thought of saying it out loud.

“Oh,” he says quietly, clearly in his own head, and you’re downright mortified as you envision Jake offering up a plethora of mental images of him fucking the period cramps right out of you.

“Steven, I couldn’t ask you to do th—“

“Please,” Steven breathes out, and you can hear the hitch in his breath.

Oh.

He wants this, too.

“It’s going to be messy, though…” you trail off, hoping he understands exactly what he’s agreeing to.

“Good,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours.

Which is how you now find yourself naked in bed, legs spread wide with a towel laid out underneath of you. Arousal seeps from your folds, slick from the thought of what’s to come, but your cunt remains untouched, because first—

“Fucking hell,” Steven groans, lust-blown eyes going wide at the sight of your swollen tits.

And as badly as you want him inside of you, you’re hardly in a position to complain as the wet heat of his mouth engulfs your sore, tender breasts, easing the pain into pleasure. He sucks and laps at your peaked nipples so eagerly, part of you thinks he’d probably come in his pants at the mere thought of drinking from them, too, someday. You clench your thighs together at the mental image of milk dribbling down his chin.

You’re so distracted, you don’t even realize Steven’s attention has finally shifted until you feel him swipe two fingers down your slit.

Already hard and throbbing in his boxers, Steven’s cock twitches as he teases your folds, digits easily sliding through the slick mixture of arousal and blood. His mind flashes again to the memory of how easily your drenched cunt had given way for Jake’s cock. The wet, squelching noises that followed as he pounded into you. The red and white mess you’d stained the sheets with.

Steven reaches down, tightly squeezing his shaft as his eyes snap shut for a moment—he nearly blew his fucking load right there.

He inserts two fingers into your entrance, reveling in the way you clamp down on the digits, your back arching up off of the mattress as you moan. Taking his time, he slowly pumps in and out of your sensitive pussy, one hand brushing across your stomach and caressing your hip.

“How does this feel?” he asks, though he’s certain he knows the answer.

“Feels so fucking good, Steven,” you whine, rocking your hips upward into his fingers.

Truthfully, he didn’t think his dick could get any harder. And yet as you writhe beneath his touch, keening when he spreads you open wider with another finger, his balls begin to ache from the pressure.

Steven has never wanted to never wanted to fuck you as badly as he does in this moment.

“Want you to get on top of me, love,” he urges as he tugs you upward, swapping your positions.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “But that’ll be even messier…” you trail off.

“I know,” he nods, impatiently grabbing your waist and pulling you down on top of him.

Both of you moan in unison as you sink down onto Steven’s thick cock, his mouth immediately seeking out your breasts as he bottoms out inside of you. With one hand tangled in his curls, urging him to suck at your sensitive nipples to his heart’s content, you begin to ride him.

He can fucking feel the fluids leaking from your cunt and dribbling down his shaft. There’s probably blood everywhere at this point, and the thought only serves to make him that much more feral. While he’d be content to suffocate between your tits as you bounce on his dick and milk every last drop of cum out of him, Steven’s suddenly overcome with the need to pound his cock into your weeping, bloody cunt. He grunts as he reaches out, fingers digging into your hips, and he lifts you up slightly, only to heavily slam his length back inside of you.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out.

Steven continues fucking you like this until you’re shaking in his arms, crying out and moaning shamelessly as the heat coiled within your belly snaps, white-hot as it explodes and pours through your trembling limbs. Unable to hold back the force of his own impending orgasm any longer, Steven’s hips stutter as pleasure sears across his body while he empties himself inside of you, filling you with hot ropes of cum.

Though he knows you’d probably love nothing more than to remain nestled in his lap, cockwarming him with a cunt full of blood and cum, there’s something else he needs to do—

Steven carefully flips you over onto your back, pulling his spent shaft from your entrance and spreading your thighs apart once more.

“Steven, what are you—“

“Jake didn’t do this, though, did he?” He sounds almost smug.

Whatever questions that remain die on your lips at the feeling of Steven’s tongue lapping broad, greedy strokes across your fucked out cunt, lapping up the mixture of fluids dripping from your hole.

You can just barely make out the dark stains of blood streaked across his chin and cheeks as he glances up at you. The sight alone leads you to the precipice of another climax that leaves you boneless, and as he tongue fucks you through your waves of pleasure, Steven ruts desperately into the mattress beneath him, his cock already aching again.

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#answers from the cockpit #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #oscar isaac fanfiction

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dariaslookalike · 2 months

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Needing Miller pt 2.

Summary: It's a shit hole of a world that you're living in, and it gets even shittier when you're ambushed in your sleep. It's a slippery slope that leads you from being tucked cozily in your sleeping bag to joining the raiding group lead by the most infuriating (and intimidating) man you've ever met. You need to survive, above all else- either in this group (without smacking its leader over the head), or in the world alone after somehow escaping. Easier said than done, when your mind loses all sense of focus, tactics and skills the second that Joel Miller rolls up his sleeves and shows his godforsaken forearms.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: thought i should note while this is joel as a raider it is *not* dark joel- he is not going to be anything dubious to our protagonist- at the end of the day that is my sweet husband joel miller, not someone who is going to swing on a woman in the name of romance.

also more often than not i'll be updating this first on AO3 because i am like bugging out about tumblr formatting [desperately trying to make a masterlist]

Next Chapter: Pt 3

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You don’t sleep for long. It’s hard to. The pain that’s shooting from your cheek and the tension held in your body means that after a few pitiful hours, you jolt awake. The only thing you can be thankful for is that you’re so exhausted, no dreams visit you.

Night has completely fallen onto the mall now, and everything is cast in harsh shadows from the fire still burning off to the side. Soft hues of orange and yellow light up the pale floor, and the shadows are darker, deeper, than if they were made just by the moonlight above.

You force your breathing to still even as the memories of the day flood back in. Where you were. What happened to you.

You twist in your sleeping bag, and Ryan glances down at you, still sitting on the edge of the fountain. You stare at him for a second before you clear your throat. You sit up, the material around you swishing.

“Thanks for staying. And stitching me up.”

“It’s fine.” Ryan nods. “Only a few hours- I can stay longer if you want to go back to sleep.”

“No. I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

His eyes flick to yours, but he doesn’t question you. He just nods again, and pushes to his feet, and begins walking over to sit by the fire.

You nod to yourself. He was good at stitching you up. To stay true to his word and watch over you. But the both of you clearly aren’t interested in being friends. He knows you’re only here because Joel let you be here. You know he was only tending to you because Joel made him. An odd, forced arrangement that you weren’t going to push any further. Right now you wanted to focus on staying alive in this group, not making friendship bracelets.

You settle against the fountain, still sitting in your sleeping bag. You can see everyone from here. While it’s later than before, only one person remains sleeping, and the rest circle around the fire. A nocturnal bunch. It makes sense. Sure, the light of day gives you the benefit of sight, but now, when the moon’s high up and everything is washed in darkness, it gives them coverage, security.

Your hand reaches up, and edges across the thick gauze pad taped to your face. It’s wet on the outside, and you know you’ll have to change the dressing soon if you’re able to. Your cheek is blooming with heat. You remembered it when you grazed your knee as a kid. Warm throbbing pain that was your body’s way of trying to kill any infection. Right now it feels like your body is trying to melt away your face. The skin beneath feels sharply prodded and stretched by the stitches, but you tell yourself that’s good. Better to feel that pain and hurt and heat than be the one with their head blown off.

Your hand drops from your face.

Terry. That was his name. Carving your own knife into your face. His head splattered across the floor. Your shoe crunching into his ribs with a kick.

You don’t know his dead friend's name and you won’t ask for it either. But in your mind, you still see the drop of his body to the floor, the slow, self-assured lowering of Joel’s gun as he tucks it back into his waistband. Two bullets. Two men. You’re only making up for one of them, and you wonder if he thinks you’re even more indebted to him now.

You clench your jaw. No. Joel was going to let you go- your hand wasn’t forced in joining this raiding group. You weren’t repaying a debt. You were trying to save your hide from raiders who wouldn’t just cut you, but carve you up and play with the pieces.

But Joel did you a favour. Spilled the blood of two of his men as a result of you. Took you in when he could have shot you for your limited supplies or left you to become septic.

And…you didn’t have any place better to be. You had run from the QZ; from the loss. The despair. The control. Everything that had happened, you had to get away from it. Head East. That was all you were doing.

It was a crack pipe dream thinking that you’d just keep heading East. Reach the coast. Swim abroad against the current and the tides and the waves and find a place on a continent you had never visited.

But something in your gut knew you were never going to make it to the coast; knew you weren’t truly following that day dream. Knew that you were going to get bit. Or caught. Or hell, step wrong, twist your ankle, and starve to death because you couldn’t walk the rest of the way.

You could make this work. Like Joel said, you’d do what he tells you to and you’d live. That was all you needed to do right now. Live.

You nod to yourself and get acutely aware that you aren’t alone anymore; that you couldn’t mutter to yourself without someone hearing now or hum under your breath if you got bored. You focus, and let your eyes trail to the campside. There’s two more people in the group than you counted before.

You focus on their forms. You see Ryan; the dirty blonde of his hair, your blood on the cuff of his jacket. He bumps his shoulder into the man sitting beside him, and they laugh about something you don’t hear. You don’t know the name of anyone else but spend time taking in their faces; rooting it to memory. All men. You’re not sure what that means for the group. Did they think they had no use for women outside of abuse and simply discarded them before you had shown up? Or were they just close knit, unwilling to let anyone into their protective circle? Neither option filled you with confidence.

Your gaze catches on Joel. He’s here now; you wonder where he walked off to, though you know you’re not entitled to ask. He’s facing the fire, and you’re able to take in his side profile. The sharp slope of his nose. The intense heaviness of his brow. The tightness to his lips, his jaw, his temple; as if even here, sitting at a fire with the group he commanded around him, he wasn’t at ease.

Your eyes sweep up and down him. He’s got a heavy, tanned jacket on, even that close to the flames. A pair of dirtied jeans. They hug his legs, and you think about him, wrapping himself around you just to stop your rabid attack. The thought swirls in your stomach, and becomes a flurry when you take in the slouch of his shoulders, the firelight catching on his hands that are clutched together in front of him.

He was handsome, and you feel nausea rise at the thought. When was anyone ever handsome to you? He was older than you, more brutal than you, more experienced than you. He should revolt and disgust you. Your logical reasoning does absolutely nothing to convince the pounding in your bloodstream to calm. You swallow. You have to forcibly drag your gaze away from him, force yourself to settle onto the new figure beside him.

But the man beside him is grinning, and already staring at you. You flush, realising you’ve been caught looking at Joel for what felt like hours. The man ducks his head closer to Joel, chuckling and saying something too quiet for you to hear. Joel doesn’t laugh, and instead his head spins, and he looks directly at you.

You sink further into your sleeping bag, and instantly look away, training your eyes onto the entrance of the mall, the slope of the walls, anything but him.

You flick your eyes back momentarily, wanting confirmation that you weren’t still being eyed. Instead, you catch the man beside Joel patting his shoulder and pushing himself to his feet. You stare at him, and shake your head slightly; praying to yourself that this wasn’t happening.

The man smiles, and he leaves the fireside, walking over to you. Joel’s staring at him, that notch in his brow again, before he scoffs and faces the fire again. You force yourself to look at this man, take him in; don’t cower or slink back; face him head on.

He’s got dark, black hair that’s curling below his ears, and the same carved nose of Joel. He’s wearing some kind of flannel and jeans, and he brushes his hands off on them as he comes closer, and sits down beside you.

You back yourself up, sliding against the fountain edge to put some distance between you but you still keep your eyes trained on him. Distance, not retreat. The man notices, but he simply smiles and sticks out his hand. You don’t shake it, and he laughs, withdrawing.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

You nod, and whisper your name back to him. His lips curl into a smirk. He’s got the same confidence as Joel. But Joel was domineering, commanding, authoritative. Tommy just came across as cocky. He taps his own cheek, eyebrows raised. You’re reminded of how Joel did the same thing, warning you that you’d bleed out if you left.

“What happened there?”

“Take a guess.” You bite.

He shrugs, unfazed by the harsh tone of your voice and huffs out a breath. “I was the one who cleaned out Terry.”

You feel anger burn white hot in your chest at the thought of him. His entitlement to you, his assault to your face. You swallow the anger down, aware that you were still being watched. You think of the body dragged out only metres away from you. You weren’t aware that Joel had directed the same to be done with Terry. It makes sense. You don’t want to attract rats, or other raiders who got it in their mind that the nearby group was smaller, weaker. Or something more vile than a rat, sniffing out after the death and decay in hopes to spread it’s virus.

Tommy’s gaze finds yours, and he studies you, as if trying to take you apart and sort through what the pieces meant.

“I know his ugly face was ‘cause of Joel- no one else that headstrong to put a bullet between his eyes. But he had a nasty shoulder. Skin clawed off his wrist.”

“What, were you friends with him?”

You resisted the urge to pick under your nails, to clean out anything left of Terry. There’s a beat of silence, and then Tommy’s lips spread out in a wolfish grin.

“No. Was gonna put a bullet in ‘im myself if Joel didn’t. Just wanted to say that I’m glad he suffered before. Especially if he cut up your pretty face.”

You nod, and turn your head away; half to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks and half to hide Terry’s assault. Tommy tilts his head to follow you, maintaining your gaze.

He smiles, eyes scanning over you. “Don’t worry- I dig chicks with scars.”

You laugh and it’s so unexpected that even you blink in surprise. You compose yourself, but Tommy’s smile is just wider, accomplished.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what my life goal is, for raiders to think I’m hot.”

Tommy’s jaw twinges at the word ‘raiders’, but he just shrugs. “Well, congrats then- mission accomplished.”

You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head. You flick your eyes back to him and allow yourself to examine him closer. His hair is combed back, and he’s has a slight stubble to him. As if he was a man who preferred to be clean shaven, but had been without a razor for a bit too long; a contrast to his brother. Smooth skin, cheekbones that drag your eyes down to his lips. He’s older than you but you struggle to pinpoint by how much.

He smiles as if it’s the easiest thing in the world; as if you were both just at some bar, chatting with each other, and the world hadn’t ended; as if you hadn’t done things you weren’t proud of and he hadn’t probably done worse.

“Seems ya to like to stare at Miller men.” He says, teasing.

He has the same Southern drawl, but his voice is higher, not as weighted. You blush and turn away but he waves his hands in defense.

“‘It’s not embarrassin’. I get it- I’d stare at him too to take in my handiwork.” He waggles his thick eyebrows. “Or were you starin’ at him for some other reason?”

You scoff, and turn back to him; glaring as the anger in your chest rears its head back up. “Handiwork?”

He smirks, nodding. “Yeah. Saw the scratches on Joel’s neck.”

He reaches up, gesturing his hands clawing down his neck. “Just a shame you didn’t give him a black eye too- would’ve paid money to see it.”

You should feel embarrassed, or wary to be discussing your earlier grapple with Joel’s brother. But instead your lips tug up. You look at Tommy from the corner of your eye.

“I kicked him in the balls. If that’s worth anything.”

His eyes blow wide and his mouth drops open a bit until he laughs, tipping his head back. “God. No wonder he was so moody when he came and got me.”

He chuckles to himself before he looks back at you. “That’s good. If you can kick him in the nuts and get away with it, you’ll make it here. No doubts.”

You nod, not sure how to respond. Did you want to make it here, wherever here was?

The conversation flows on. Tommy gives you the names of everyone, pointing them out around the fire. You’re able to laugh with him, and offer a little bit to the conversation.

You’re not sure where you stand with this man. How truly trustworthy he is beneath his charming facade. But Ryan’s antiseptic and skills were something you’d need to keep close by before you were fully healed up. Until the wound on your face became a scar, you couldn’t leave.

So, when he asks about where you came from, what you’re doing all the way out here, you feed him little pieces of information- not enough for him to gather the full story, but enough that he leans in closer; as if deciding to trust, or at least entertain, you too.

You don’t register that Joel’s walked over to you until Tommy’s gaze flicks upwards, and you follow.

Joel’s glaring down at his brother, and Tommy’s easy smile slips off his face; replaced with a hard carve of his lips and tense hunch of his brow. The charming man fades away, and in his place is a hardened, now seemingly older man. A raider- not a man you met at a bar that didn’t exist anymore.

There seems to be unspoken words between the two, communicated in the flare of Joel’s nostrils, the square of his shoulders, the clench of his fists. You simply watch the exchange, enraptured and feeling like you’re intruding. Finally, Tommy sighs, and his gaze slides to you, a bashful smile put back in place.

“Nice meeting ya, Dollface.”

You laugh, and when he offers you his hand again, you reach out, shaking it. He lingers, holding onto you, and you’re stuck staring into the dark of his eyes; you can see the firelight flickering in them.

Joel clears his throat, and Tommy rolls his eyes, shooting you a smirk as if to say Can you believe this guy? But he pulls back, pushing himself to his feet. He raises to his full height, and stares at Joel- more unspoken conversation, and now it’s Tommy talking in the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head, the twinge in his temple. The tension snaps and dissipates when he simply shakes his head, brushing past Joel and returning to sit by the fire.

Joel scoffs at him, and shakes his head. He doesn’t look at you as he sits down, taking Tommy’s seat beside you.

“What was that?”

His jaw clenches, and he keeps looking across to the fire. “Nothin’.”

“Yeah, sure seemed like nothing.”

Joel’s tongue darts out to lick across his lip and he shakes his head slightly. “None of your business.”

You force yourself to exhale through your nose, to not slap him across the face. “Sure- but I was having a nice conversation with him. Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of that to go around here amidst all the shooting.”

He scoffs, and finally turns to you fully. His face is half cast in light from the fire, and the thought catches in your throat that Tommy was only sitting here a minute ago and didn’t look half as handsome as the man in front of you.

Joel glares at you, the notch in his brow deeper. “Those two needed to go- not gonna have some fuckin’ punks walking around like they make the rules.”

His eye dips down to the bandage on your cheek and you wonder if he sees the knife stabbed into it as much as you still feel it. He drags his gaze back to yours, hissing. “And Tommy only wants to get in your pants. Nothin’ nice about the conversation.”

Your eyes widen and you scoff, words slipping out before you can stop them. “Bite me.”

He scowls, lip tugging down. “Real creative.”

“What?” You demand, leaning forward, fire licking up inside you. “Am I supposed to sit here and think of a fucking essay when you tell me all your brother wants to do is fuck me?”

Joel’s brow furrows, and he clicks his teeth. “Watch it.”

You huff but you’re left with a moment of tension, and it leaves you with flashes of images- Terry’s head splattered across the floor. Your wrist nearly broken by Joel’s hand. His gun glinting at his waist.

But you also see the obedient turn of heads. Tommy’s annoyance yet subordination.

You’re angry. Angry that you were so exhausted you had to sleep. Angry that you weren’t prepared more in that fucking shop. Angry that you got caught. Angry that you got stabbed. Angry that you’re stuck with this group when you were doing just fine on your own before you met them. Angry that the man beside you is talking to you like you’re a child. You yield to the fire inside you and scoff.

“Fuck off Joel.”

His eyes widen and it’s the same minuscule, near-unnoticeable change that reveals his shock. But he just clenches his jaw, showing more restraint than you had. “Sure got some gall.”

You run your tongue along your teeth, and his eyes track the movement. “I ‘had some fight’, right? Thought that’s why I’m here.”

His eyes stay trained on you, and his gaze is heavy, stern. “Just ‘cause you can run your mouth doesn’t mean jack.”

Your eyes dip to his neck, and you see what Tommy was talking about. Where you had scratched him earlier, there is jagged lines down the smooth column of his neck, some speckled with blood. Your eyes flick back to his.

“Yeah?”

His nostrils flare and it’s the only indication that he knows exactly what you were looking at. He snarls, and leans even closer.

“Tomorrow we’re on the move. You slip up, you fuck up, you don’t have any of that ‘fight’ in ya, and you’re done for.”

You clench your jaw but you don’t flinch back, instead holding his gaze. “Sir, yes, sir.”

He scoffs and is the first to lean back, shaking his head. “You’re gonna learn some respect.” He pins you with a glare. “Don’t ever mouth off like that in front of anyone- or you’re gonna wish I left you for dead with that knife in your face.”

You swallow, and your cheek burns in pain and shame. You clench your hand.. Force yourself to feel the strain of your bones where he had nearly crushed them and the nails digging into your palm instead of reaching across and slapping him as hard as you could.

You could see the imaginary line you had to toe. Not subordinate enough for him to step on you and treat you like shit. Not insubordinate enough for him to put a bullet between your eyes. Tell him to fuck off when you needed to. Bow your head when he told you to.

So you just nod, and turn from him, leaning back against the fountain. You had clearly pushed enough of his buttons tonight, and you weren’t ready to push anymore. Yet.

He huffs beside you, and turns away, facing back to the group.

Finally, after what feels like tortuous hours of uncomfortable silence, he clears his throat. “You ever used a gun?”

You look at him from the corner of your eye but don’t turn to him. “What?”

He scoffs beside you, as if repeating himself is his own personal hell. “Have you ever used a gun?”

You swallow, and your hand slides in your sleeping bag, thumbing over the hilt of your knife. “Yeah. Got taught in FEDRA’s school.”

He turns his head at that, maybe just realising that you didn’t simply spawn into existence in this mall. That you had a life. A school. Maybe friends. A family. That you had gotten out, gotten this far by yourself.

He tuts. “‘T’s not gonna do you shit then. I’ll teach you tomorrow as we go.”

You swallow, tilting your head slightly to look at him. “Tommy can do that. Or Ryan.”

“Already sick of me, Newbie?”

You don’t say anything, and he leans in closer, eyes narrowing.

“I brought you in. ‘M responsible for you.”

You turn back to him fully, eyebrows raised. “You said I was free to go. I joined. I’m not some sick puppy you dragged in to fix up.”

His tongue runs along his teeth beneath his lips. “Whether you like it or not, it’s cause of me that you’re here and not bleeding out in some fuckin’ shop.”

You resist the urge to bite your ruined cheek. He’s right. You know it. You can feel the debt you owe to him thrumming between the two of you.

“So, what? You teach, and then I can stay out of your way?”

“Sure,” He snaps, eyes dark. “You learn to shoot a gun properly, and I won’t have to talk to you again.”

You clench your jaw. “Great.”

“What’s wrong, Dollface?” He hisses the name. “You should be jumping for joy.”

“What’s your issue?” You snap, reeling on him. “You take me in, get my face fixed up and now you’re pushing me for a fucking fight. What is it? Seeing how long it takes for me to snap, how long until you can put a bullet between my eyes too?”

He huffs, and shakes his head, fury evident in the clench of his jaw. “‘M not testing you.”

“So what is it?” You push, glowering. “Can’t stand the thought of your brother getting some ‘cause I told you I’d bite your dick off?”

His eyes flick towards you, and he scoffs. “No. Just don’t get why you’re buddying up to him. You’ve gotta learn something.” He hisses. “Anyone who’s made it this far, who’s survived, didn’t do so cause they were fuckin’ nice.”

You glare at him. “You don’t think I learned my lesson from Terry? From your crew?”

You jut out your chin, and his eyes snag on the bandage across your face. You know what he’s thinking- that you’re never going to be able to forget that lesson. Something like pity flashes through his eyes for a second before you see him chew his cheek for a second, as if physically biting back his response. He takes a deep breath, and then another, before he looks back at you.

“Don’t get it twisted,” He says, eyes dark and foreboding. “Terry wasn’t good. But a Miller,” He huffs, "is a different kind of bad. Stay away from Tommy.”

You swallow, and almost want to laugh at the dramatism; but something in his words is ragged, raw. True.

You clench your jaw, levelling your gaze with him. “And what about you? You said you’re responsible for me now. Miller.”

His lips tilt down but he shrugs, nonchalantly. You scoff.

“So what? Tommy’s some big bad wolf I should steer clear from, but you’re my guardian angel?”

He mirrors you, scoffing and crossing his hands across his chest. You hate the stupid flex of his forearms and the way your eye catches on the shadow. “Nowhere near that. But I’m not gonna let you jeopardise my crew until you can prove you can handle your own.”

“You brought me in.” You hiss, throwing his own words in his face.

“Exactly,” He snarls, lip curling. “I brought you in and if you fuck up, it’s on me.”

Your pulse is thrumming in your ears. “So you teach me to not fuck up- And then you won’t have to talk to me again. That’s our deal right? I do as I’m told and I get to stay. Nothing more, nothing less.” You say, repeating his words from earlier again.

His jaw flexes, but he nods.

“Can’t wait.” You hiss, turning away from him

He doesn’t leave. You can feel him practically thrumming with annoyance and anger at how petty and childish you were- but he doesn’t leave.

You’re his responsibility now, hisses the small voice in your head. You want to tell it to shut up. To understand that you could have left, still could if you wanted to; but you chose to be here, because otherwise you would have died two streets away with a raider robbing your boots off your cold feet. Hell, you might have made it a week before the dirt and rubble and spores sunk into your wound and you died a feverish death.

But you don’t. Because you know that you owe Joel- owe him for the bullet in Terry, the bullet in his other insubordinate, the stitches in your face; the protection and food and shelter you’d get now in this desolate waste land of a city. That was the deal. He provides you with the mockery of a good life in this wasteland, and you do as you’re told.

And you know that Joel is responsible for you. Killing two of his own men, even if it was for disobeying his rules, because of you was a threat to his domineering authority. You, your actions, your slip ups, your fuck ups, would all be a reflection on him.

He was responsible for you and you owed him. Two truths that coexisted in this twisted partnership you had found yourself in.

So you don’t tell him to fuck off again and to go back to the fire. Instead, you lay on your side, back still against the fountain, and tug up your sleeping bag to your chin. Your head is closest to Joel; enough that if you tilted your eyes up, you’d be able to see the underside of his jaw, his cheekbones, the messy top of hair. Right now your gaze could only find the solidness of his thighs.

You think of the quick draw of his gun, his unflinching gaze as he blew someone’s head off for the second time that day. You wonder if he meant it- if he was a different, but wholly worse evil than Terry.

You don’t think you want to find out.

He can watch your back tonight, teach you about guns tomorrow, and the day after, you would make sure you keep as much distance between the two of you as possible.

The pain is still throbbing, but it’s becoming an accepted, familiar sensation in your body. It dulls in the background of sleep.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfic #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #raider!joel #raider!joel x reader #dariaslookalike fic

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toomuchracket · 1 year

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lol feeling a bit angsty today, thinking about matty and taylor and the timeline of things lol. but Jamie was at the concert tonight with matty and maybe he travelled with our beloved dh assistant. And matty and taylor are together now and assistant had to be professional and maybe she’s dazzling the room with her professionalism and her charisma, but maybe she has a full blown panic attack about it all when she has a moment to think about the whole thing, maybe needs some air and maybe matty finds her having her moment and doesn’t know what to do

OH this inspired me to do a fic, rather than a blurb. beware of angst (but it's an AU and i am not doing a part 2 lol everything is actually nice in d word matty-land. also for a partial explanation of dh assistant being there, it's bea opening alongside phoebe and you're there for vaguely manager-y stuff. and matty plays during bea's set but not for pheebs lol. it'll make sense in-fic!)

gone four weeks

the irony of walking into the stadium while taylor is soundchecking 'midnight rain' isn't lost on you.

following jamie towards the small group of people gathered at the front of the stage, you try not to focus on the lyrics, or the familiar mess of curls moving side to side in time to the music ahead of you, or the melancholy blooming in your skin at the whole situation.

you should be excited. ecstatic. elated, for fuck's sake. you're seeing one of your label's artists - and a fairly good friend of yours to boot - support taylor swift, an artist you've enjoyed and admired since you were an actual kid. instead, you're feeling worse with every passing step, bile and tears threatening to spill out of various facial orifices as you get close enough to hear matty singing along quietly and say something to bea.

it's only been four weeks since you last heard him, but the inflections of matty's voice seem completely unfamiliar to you. they say that the voice is the first memory you lose of someone after a death - apparently, this also applies to the death of a relationship. that, or he's let his accent be influenced by his new girlfriend, aka the beautiful, capable woman singing onstage right now.

bea glances over her shoulder and grins at the sight of you and jamie, walking to meet you and opening her arms out to hug you both in turn. your boss moves on to hug matty too, but you stay put, bea's arm over your shoulder; matty makes no effort to near you, either, staying a good few paces away from you. whether he's trying to avoid overstepping any boundaries or preparing for a duel with you, you can't decide. the former, probably, from the way he nods politely at you and asks "you alright? the flight was ok, i take it?"; you smile emotionlessly back at him - an easy feat, considering your body has gone numb from the sheer agony of seeing him again - and answer affirmatively to both. matty nods again, and gets a look on his face that you instantly recognise as "i have something i want to say to you", but he's interrupted by taylor's arrival on the stadium floor before he can.

despite yourself, and the awkward situation you're all in, you can't help but be awed by her - tall and graceful and even prettier in person, that famously-red-lipstick-lined smile so dazzling and contagious that you begin to genuinely smile too in response. you keep it up even when she hugs matty and he kisses her head sweetly, despite your want to scream at the fact that his lips are on her and not you. but you keep calm, keep smiling, no matter how sore or fake it feels, and remind yourself that it's partially your own fault he isn't kissing you any more.

the smile becomes genuine again when taylor comes over to you and introduces herself, sweeping you into a big hug accompanied by a "so amazing to finally meet you! i'm a big fan of your work in keeping the label running", the latter sentence followed by a wry smile.

"you're a big... what?" you splutter, pulling away. "i don't even do much!"

"oh, please," taylor sighs. "everyone - jamie included, by the way - says you're the mastermind behind everything. i think we have that in common."

out of the corner of your eye, you see matty wince at taylor likening the two of you. good, you think. let him be uncomfortable. "well, you are the reason i got into music," you say, smiling. "i picked up a guitar for the first time after hearing 'fearless'. i mean, i did put it back down when i realised i was kinda shit and my interest in music would be better served elsewhere, but still. thank you for that."

"that's so cool!" taylor squeals, pulling you into another hug. after it ends, she turns to matty with an accusatory look. "i can't believe you wouldn't tell me this! i thought you said she was your best friend."

ouch. you sink your teeth into the back of your bottom lip as you shift your gaze to matty, attempting to keep your face expressionless in spite of the friendzoning revelation wound. he looks apologetic - whether towards you or taylor, though, you can't tell. "to be fair, i didn't actually know that."

"yeah. you don't know everything about me, healy" you reply, your attempt at lightheartedness falling a bit flat amidst the slight tension of the conversation.

matty scoffs. "i know enough."

the loaded comment stings, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes to match it. luckily, bea moves the discussion onto something else all technical and musical, giving you the opportunity to pull out your phone and pretend to be answering emails so that you don't have to look at matty and have him see you're upset. he notices, though, of course he does - matty knows your body movements like nobody else, like the back of his own calloused hand, and the events of four weeks ago mean he's also well-acquainted with what you look like when you're hurt. if you looked up for even a split-second and met your ex-boyfriend's gaze, you would see the clear regret and concern for you in his dark eyes; you don't, though, you keep your eyes on your phone until the soundcheck resumes and you and jamie are dragged off by taylor's parents to talk management and business.

and you're alright, initially, for the next few hours - you're busy having work-related discussions about promotion and marketing and getting some insider knowledge into taylor's career and the tour itself, which is eye-opening for you from both a career perspective and as a fan. bea's set is a bit of a challenge to get through, what with matty making a surprise appearance part-way through to play guitar on some of the songs he co-wrote with her; for the most part, though, you can zone him out, and focus on the fact that your friend and client - a girl not too much younger than you - is playing a stadium show on one of the biggest concert tours in history, cheering bea on proudly and singing along.

phoebe's set is different. sure, you don't have to see matty onstage - come to think of it, you don't know where he is. before you can stop it, a memory of you and matty together crosses your mind; a pre-show fuck in a random dressing room in buenos aires, an encounter that matty later claimed was "the reason why that show was our best ever". you briefly wonder if that's what he's up to now with taylor, her long legs wrapped around him, before choking both the thought and the vomit in your mouth back down to the circle of your own personal hell they appeared from, and focusing as best you can on the performance in front of you. which is a mistake, really, considering phoebe's set consists of all the songs you listened to non-stop after you and matty called it quits; by the time the intro to moon song begins, you're holding back sobs, quietly backing out of the vip tent and entering the inner corridors of the stadium.

you have no idea where you're going, but that doesn't bother you - the song is muffled by steel and concrete, so it's less painful, and your all-access pass means security just wave you through doors without stopping you. finally, you find a deserted spot in a corridor by the stairs, where you slump to the floor and just cry, overwhelmed by the jet lag and the emotions of phoebe's songs and your shitty love life and this whole fucking day in general. head in your hands and sobbing loudly, you don't notice the footsteps hurrying towards you, only registering the fact you're not alone anymore when a familiar voice speaks. "oh, princess."

matty, crouched down so he's eye level with you, looking sadder than you've ever seen him - well, with the exception of four weeks ago, that is. your lip trembles at the sight of him, and you cry even harder, speaking through wails. "please don't call me that, matty."

"sorry, sorry - force of habit," matty says quickly. "are you ok? actually, stupid fucking question, you're clearly not, but... i had to say something. i hate seeing you upset."

"well, you've been pretty good at making me that way recently."

matty sighs, moving to sit beside you against the wall. "could say the same for you, you know."

"really making me feel better here, man."

"sorry."

there's silence for a minute - your breathing is beginning to regulate, just out of the muscle and sense memories brought back by nothing more than matty sitting closely beside you, and you fucking hate it. with a sigh, you break it. "i'm sorry about what happened, you know. i just... got scared. didn't mean to be hurtful."

"s'fine," matty shrugs. "i'm sorry i ever brought it up."

"hey, less of that," you turn to matty, touching his arm softly. "it's what you want, and it's good you mentioned it, even if i panicked and disagreed. really."

matty makes a noncommittal sound. "i just hate that i ended up hurting you with it. i never want to do that, regardless of if we're together or not."

"same here."

with a small smile at you, matty checks the time on his phone. "phoebe's almost finished. you coming back down?"

"in a minute," you nod. "you go ahead."

matty gives you a quizzical look, but leaves with a "see you in a min" when you wave him away. taking a few deep breaths, you wipe your eyes and listen to phoebe's voice resonating through the stadium before you follow matty.

anyway, don't be a stranger...

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #angst asks #d word matty #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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sidekickjoey · 1 year

Text

"Hi Chrissy."

Sitting in the cool grass in Hawkins Memorial Cemetery, Eddie watches quietly as the sun shines down on the stone before him. Radiant is the only word that comes to mind as it glistens and stands tall. Then again, no better word could've described Chrissy Cunningham when she was on this Earth, or her smile. It's fitting it would also apply to her grave.

He picks a nearby dandelion and rests it at the base of the stone, just below an engraving of a sunflower - her favorite, he's learned. A few of the fluffy white seeds float up and wisp around the carved petals, giving it life. Motion. It makes Eddie smile.

"I'm sorry I've been sorta' shit about visiting ya'," he says after a moment, a shy little drawl to his voice making him sound quite endearing. Forgivable. "Wayne and I just moved into our new apartment last week and the whole moving in thing's wrecked us. Did you know that man had even more mugs hiding in storage? At least thirty, the maniac!"

He imagines Chrissy's own smile at that one. Sure, she had been scared out of her mind the night she entered his trailer, but Eddie can never forget seeing Chrissy's eyes comically widen at the sight of Wayne's collection of various mugs from around the globe. Most people do as such - even Wayne on some occasions, when he's tired and not prepared to remember his own expensive vice.

Eddie's finger traces the sunflower.

"I wish you could see the place. It's a lot cleaner and bigger than our old shit hole at Forest Hills. Plus, it's got this super big backyard with a tree that I'm thinking of putting a hammock under. I think it'd be a nice spot for writing songs. Isn't that just something, Chrissy?"

A brush of cool air past him has Eddie believing that yes, it is.

He picks another dandelion. Blows the seeds her way.

"I've actually got another something to tell you," he hints, waggling his eyebrows to no one. "It's even crazier than us having a whole house to ourselves, Wayne and I. It might've actually just about blown your mind if you were still around. It's been blowing mine for the last few days, if I'm being totally honest."

The sun brightens on Eddie's back. He takes a deep breath. Steadies himself.

"I, uh...I'm dating Steve Harrington."

The sun continues to shine.

The cool breeze returns.

Life goes on.

Eddie releases his breath.

"I hope you're not like, rolling in your grave below me right now," he chuckles, voice tight and nervy. "I know I'm the biggest hypocrite ever for falling for him, a known jock AND popular kid. It goes against pretty much everything I've stood for or yelled about at lunch. But, it's kind of like what you said about me, Chris. He wasn't what I thought he'd be like. He isn't."

He's way more, as a matter of fact. So much more that it hurts sometimes for Eddie to think about. Makes him question how he got so lucky to meet him, really meet him, in the first place.

"I wish you could see it for yourself," he says softly a minute later, now tracing her name with his pointer finger. "You two probably would've been great friends. He likes sports and doing his hair and goofing around. He's also weirdly good at baking. You were in the baking club, right? I swear I saw you selling gingerbread cookies before Christmastime. The little ones with the candy canes? Right?"

No one answers, but something in Eddie's bones makes that assessment feel right. He looks up to the sky, lets the sun soak into what skin isn't covered up by leather and denim for a minute, and imagines the dreamworld he described. He imagines Chrissy side-by-side with Steve in a kitchen, maybe with Robin if she stuck around or visited during college. He watches them as they get too messy, covered in flour and sticky from dough and icing, and smiles at the fact none of them seem to care. They're all so proud of their work and wanting Eddie to try everything. He can practically hear their laughter, their joy, their lack of care or fear as he does. He lets himself drown in it, just a little. Basks in it.

Stares back at Chrissy's grave seconds later with a piercing twinge of sadness.

Grieves.

Whimpers "You should be here still, Chrissy" to the stone.

Sniffling, he tries to laugh away the tears that have suddenly appeared like a tidal wave. It does no good, though. Not even the sunshine, the beautiful stuff that usually makes Eddie feel so seen and comforted, can whisk them away now that they've begun. He grips tight at his thigh. Desperately tries to ground himself.

"Steve's been reminding me that there was nothing I could do. Says I've been placing too much blame on myself for it all. Maybe I am. It's just that..." he takes a deep breath, "shit, I hate that you were the one made an example of in all of this mess. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to stop it and protect you from Vecna and the Upside Down and all that horrible crap you had no reason to be swept up in because of me. I'm sorry you can't be here and getting your own new boyfriend, or your own degree. I'm so fucking sorry."

A full-on sob hits Eddie then, knocking him off whatever ledge he had been teetering on right into a pit of anxiety and bottled-up sadness. It renders him shaky and a bit blubbery, and as another sob gears up in the pit of his chest, he starts to feel guilty he had shown up in the first place. If he'd just kept his news to himself, hadn't let himself dwell on all the milestones Chrissy would never reach, maybe he would've been okay. Maybe he would feel a little less broken, a little less wrapt with survivors guilt, a little less-

"Hey."

Eddie flips around in a fright to find himself face-to-knee with Steve Harrington.

The boy's face is gentle when he finally works up the courage to meet it. It's the same gentleness that had been there the first time Eddie confessed to wanting to visit Chrissy, and the same that had coaxed him out of the car when his nerves got the best of him. It's also the same that had gazed upon Eddie when he confessed to having a crush, and when he proceeded to say he'd be fine if they never spoke again because he gets why that would not be happy news to hear.

His gaze is somehow never pitying. Always achingly empathetic.

It tears another sob from Eddie.

Carefully, Steve sits down at Eddie's side and wraps an arm around him. His hand soothingly begins to rub up and down Eddie's arm, grounding him the best he can. Eddie leans into it. Hopes Chrissy is okay with having their private conversation shared. Sobs again.

"Hi Chrissy. I dunno if you knew me, but I'm Steve."

Eddie shuts his eyes and buries his face into Steve's shoulder.

"I'm sure Eddie probably already told you, but we're...we're a couple now, so I hope you don't mind me intruding. I know uh...I know he's kinda private about this stuff."

He means Eddie's feelings about Chrissy's death, about Chrissy in general. The whole lot of it. Eddie knows it in an instant - feels the way Steve's grip nudges them closer together in understanding.

"I'm not sure what you were chatting about, but I have something to tell you if that's alright."

Steve pauses.

Bless him, he pauses for the answer that won't come.

Eddie could - no, plans to love him forever for doing something like that for his sake. For Chrissy.

"He's been pretty torn up about you. We all are, but...well, it's hard. I've been through this four times now and that first time is still a lot to think over. But...uh, Robs told me that in movies, ghosts are always like, torn up and stuff about people being sad they're gone. Want them to live their life to the fullest. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm gonna make sure our guy here does that. For you."

Blinking up from Steve's shoulder, Eddie sniffles. "W-What?"

"Yeah," Steve says, keeping his eyes on the stone. "I'll make sure he has reasons to smile and...and reasons to get through the hard times. I'm gonna' be there to remind him what all that's like, okay?"

"Steve..."

"And I know it won't be easy, but...I think it'll be good. For all of us. Ya' know?"

Tears threatening again, Eddie places a small kiss to Steve's cheek. He feels Steve's grip bring him in even more, almost keeping Eddie in his lap. Comforting him. It's more than he could ask for.

The sun shines on him. Eddie feels it again - wills it to help.

"I can't do it all on my own, though. I could use a little divine intervention here and there, if you could spare some."

Eddie almost corrects Steve. He almost says ghosts aren't divine, how that's reserved for angels and God and stuff. But, on second thought, he figures if anyone from Hawkins was granted an angelic afterlife, Chrissy probably was first in line.

Instead, he listens to the beat of Steve's heart.

"But, I'll try. We'll both try. We promise."

"Y-Yeah," Eddie hiccups. "We promise."

Steve smiles into his hair.

"Got anything else you need to say, Eddie? Or do you want to go grab milkshakes somewhere before we head back to your place?"

Blinking his bleary eyes back open, Eddie gazes at the tombstone. Commits it to memory. Pictures Chrissy giggling and telling them to go have fun.

Really, who is he to tell her no?

"Yeah, I think we're good here," he says, finally. He nods once more to Steve and lets him pull him up to his feet, the shaky thing he is. His arm ends up around Steve's waist as they give a final look to Chrissy, and for a moment, he wonders what she must be thinking. He wonders if she is grateful for their promise, or if she is wishing she could have a milkshake with them, too. Eddie hopes, wherever she is, she can go grab one. Enjoy with them, and above them. He'd like that.

And, after today, he thinks Steve might, too.

They hold each other's hand tight as they leave the cemetery.

They hold hands even tighter when Eddie gets a tattoo of a sunflower the very next day.

#stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #ficlet #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #st fanfic #st4

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lindszeppelin · 2 years

Text

DEPRAVITY

pairing: Elvis x Fem!Reader (you could alternatively imagine Austin!Elvis in this scenario)

summary: Elvis experiments in the bedroom with you, as he reveals a kink he's kept hidden for a long time.

rating: Mature, 18+. Minors...get out of here with peace and love.

warnings: dirty dirty smut, gun kink, swearing...

word count: 5.4k

a/n: hey, im back Lol. i hope you guys enjoy. i just had to write this and get this thought out of my mind. it was plaguing me lol. forgive any grammatical errors and things as per usual. i do my best

tags: @ash-omalley @powerofelvis i forget who else wanted to be tagged, but here you go!

It was a tepid Las Vegas night. As you stood from the expansive floor to ceiling windows that formed around your penthouse, you gazed out at the sunset strip below you. It was actually a beautiful sight that became one of your comforts. You learned quickly that Vegas was the city that never slept. Even at this ungodly hour that you find yourself awake in, you can still see flashing lights of neon signs from sleazy strip joints and headlights from cars driving through the hectic traffic. It was nothing like you had ever experienced before. However, nothing really was when you're dating The King of Rock and Roll. One of the mentalities that you quickly adopted since being with Elvis Presley was to expect the unexpected.

Sometimes it can be quite lonely spending the evenings by yourself in the vastness of your shared room with Elvis. He had a particular way he liked to live, and that was black furniture with the curtains drawn most of the day. The total darkness was somewhat of a comfort to him. And that was okay with you. Whatever made him happy was fine by your books.

As your man was busy trying to rehearse for the grueling performances he was contractually obligated to fulfill, you had to find ways to entertain yourself. Not that he would keep you prisoner in your living quarters or anything. One of the things he loved about you was your independence.

After spending a few years at The International Hotel with him, you've grown accustomed to filling your daily planner with activities that you personally enjoy. And at night, Elvis would sneak into bed and wrap his warm arms around you, kissing you out of your slumber. He felt like home in a city full of strangers and haggards.

You cross your arms over your chest, clutching at the sheer black robe that hits the floor delicately. Your long hair cascades around your face, perfectly blown out in that typical 70s fashion that accentuates your feminine features -- just like Elvis and you like. As you stare out into the busy cityscape It can be so easy to get lost in thought. The array of bright colored lights and the stars in the sky are an excellent distraction to quell your loneliness. In fact, you were so engrossed in the view that barely even heard the door to your penthouse open and close in the distance.

You feel a familiar pair of arms snake their way around your waist. The giant rings adorned his fingers were cool to the touch against your warm skin. You could smell his seductive sent of leather and spice wafting through your nostrils, sending a shiver down your spine - he was intoxicating to the senses. Your man was back where he belonged, with you. Elvis nuzzles his nose into the side of your face lovingly, smiling sheepishly against you. His gorgeous lips trail lazy kisses down your neck. You savored in his touch.

And at long last, he spoke. "Hi pretty baby." He mewled. You allow yourself to melt against his muscular body. You loved the way your delicate curves fit like a glove against his sensual embrace.

Taking one of your hands and gently cupping his face, you commit to memory the feel of him right now so you wouldn't dare forget.

"Elvis..." You sighed. Without wasting any more time, he captures your lips in a kiss that makes you weak in the knees. One of the things you loved about him were his lips. And he was a wonderful kisser -- the best you've certainly ever had. He puts other man to shame.

This welcome home kiss was soft and filled with adoration. Your hand on his face makes it way in his fine black hair, tangling in his dark tresses, pulling him in deeper to the kiss. He hummed in delight as your satin lips work in tandem with his. The sparks were flying off of you two, the electricity of your sexual desires for each other was insatiable.

All too reluctantly, he breaks away from your mouth and looks you over with his icy blue eyes. He loved that you naturally enjoyed wearing sexy lingerie, although he certainly can't deny he equally loves seeing you wear nothing but his button down shirts. You exude an effortless sexiness that he finds so enthralling. Seeing you like this now, in you black robe and matching two piece ensemble with thigh high stockings gives him a wicked eyeful of you. The corner of his mouth perk up in a boyish grin.

"Mm. Darlin' you look divine. You wearin' this little number just for me?"

You laugh playfully. "Oh you know, I thought i'd slip into something a little more comfortable. You like it?"

"Do I ever..."

As he desperately grasps your frame to him with one hand, he lets his other one idly roam the expanse of your body -- wherever he could manage to touch. The rough pads of his fingers lightly dance over the silk of your stockings. Elvis was dangerously close to petting your inner thigh where the heat was radiating off of you to the point where you swear you felt steam rise from beneath his hand. You closed your eyes and basked in his touch, sighing deeply. He couldn't help himself when his hips rolled into the curve of your ass, creating friction with his growing erection that he could no longer hide even if he wanted to.

"I've been thinkin' about you all goddamn day. I couldn't get back here fast enough. I missed you, honey." He said wantonly in your ear. Elvis rolled his hips again, this time a little harder to punctuate his eagerness for you.

"I missed you too baby." you cooed, grinding your ass back against his cock. The grip on you have on his thick mane of black tendrils tightened ever so slightly as you both rocked back and forth against each other, rolling like a wave. He moaned against you. He was getting harder by the second, and you could feel your lace panties stick to your pussy with your abundance of juices. You were both so desperate for each other, always. It was never a dull moment between you two. His breath was hot against your neck, panting with desire.

"Goddamn baby, you get my motor runnin' so good. My perfect girl." He moaned gravelly. As he was grinding hard against your ass, his hand came to life again -- gliding his way over your hips and stomach, setting you ablaze with each inch of skin he comes into contact with. He began to make you with his tongue. His plush lips place wet kisses along your shoulder while his hands finally reach the ample round of your breasts - squeezing them with dominance through your lace bra. He massages your tits in his masculine hands, your nipples hardening under him.

"El..." You moan out. As he worked your breasts masterfully, you roll your hips back against him, earning you a lustful groan that vibrates along your neck. You felt him twitch aggressively against your ass, he clearly was straining against the confines of his brown slacks, looking for any kind of release. Elvis could keep this up all night, but he was slowly but surely snowballing into all the dirty thoughts about what he wanted to do to you. He could theoretically take you right here and now against the windows, your naked body pressed firmly against the glass as he fucks you mercilessly on show for all of Las Vegas. But tonight he had other plans.

There was something he kept hidden from you, a secret desire that he only recently discovered. And he feared telling you because he thought it was something you would say no to. Hell, I'm sure anyone in their right mind would say no with the kink he had unearthed. But he couldn't help but obsess over this kink, and you unravelling in front of him because of it. It turned him on in the most depraved ways. And as he held you in his arms in this perfect moment, all his logic went out the window. It was now or never.

Elvis swallowed thickly as he cleared his throat, his voice dripping with desire. "Honey, I-I was wonderin' if we could do somethin' a little different tonight. Try somethin' new."

Your interest was piqued. "What did you have in mind?" you asked coyly, still fully engrossed in his hands working your breasts.

"Well..." He trails chaste kisses from your shoulder back up to your ear. "I was thinkin' of introducin' somethin' into the bedroom. Somethin' that I have complete control over. But I know you trust me, baby. If you say yes then you'd surly be fulfilling a fantasy of sorts for me..."

Honestly, you're a little taken aback by his words. Sure you and Elvis have tried new positions and such over time, but he was being so cryptic about this proposition. What could he be talking about? Your mind went to a million different avenues and you weren't sure what to think initially. You begrudgingly remove your ass from his erection and turn around in his arms, looking your man in the eye to try and get a read on him.

This was the first time tonight that you got a proper look at Elvis, so you drank in the glorious sight of him and let it sit with you. His oceanic eyes were slowly morphing into black halos of infinite darkness, yearning completely for you. His soft hair had fallen into his face, and the expanse of his chest was on display for you to ogle at through the brown suit jacket he was wearing, with no undershirt. You bit your lip as you furthermore noticed his thick cock standing to attention that instantly made you stifle a moan in the back of your throat. He looked sickeningly delectable. Your fingertips instinctively ran through his coarse chest hair as your eyes fixated on his once more. A shy smile was written on his face, waiting for your response in earnest.

"You say this is a fantasy of yours?"

He simply nodded his head, still waiting for your full response and too shy to reply back.

"Okay well, i'm all for satisfying my man, and i aim to please. What is this fantasy you want to act out, EP?"

Delighted by you answer, he beamed his bright pearly whites happily and kissed your forehead.

"Thank you, satnin. And uh, it'll be easier if I just show you what it is rather than tellin' you." Without uttering another word he took your hand in his and walked with you over to his little makeshift office - which was really just a massive desk with some stationary where he would write letters to himself or others - and he proceeded to slide out a big silver briefcase from underneath his desk. His hands began to tremble slightly, on edge, as he placed the briefcase on the desk and flipped up the hatches to reveal what was inside.

Before you was an array of various types of handguns laid out perfectly in a protective bed of red velvet. You obviously weren't naïve to his collection. You knew that Elvis liked to keep a few different guns on his person at all times. While it wasn't a hobby that interested you in the slightest, you were happy to oblige him when he purchased a couple. You've never actually looked closely at them before, though. This was the first time. You noticed that they came in all different colors and sizes -- some intimidatingly large and some comically small that you couldn't imagine doing much damage at all. Some had turquoise grips, while other were ivory and pearl. It was decadent and definitely an expensive hobby. You wouldn't lie to yourself either, you kind of liked the way the metal gleamed in the moonlight.

Elvis finally broke the silence with a gentle tone. "I know that you're aware of my guns. But I've purposely kept them away from you all this time, because I don't want to scare you. You know they're just for protection incase some stupid bastard decides to take me out. But Lord knows I'd give 'em hell if they tried."

You nod in agreement. "Of course. Better to be safe then sorry." You say sincerely. It was true. It was better for Elvis to be on the safe side rather then be possibly unprepared for future unforetold events. You don't want him to get hurt, or worse. At this point though, you were still trying to find the correlation between his guns and this fantasy he mentioned.

He spoke up a little bravery this time, finding the courage to continue. "Yes, i'm glad you feel that way, Darlin'. I won't let anyone hurt you." His hand roams over the guns seated in the crushed velvet enclosure, feeling a surge of dominance run through his veins as he admires the weapons in his arsenal. The thought of not only protecting himself but you with something as alpha male as a handgun made him hot under the collar. "I take care of what's mine..."

You lovingly stroke his back with one of your soothing hands, soft to the touch to ground him back to you. "I know, Elvis. You make me feel so safe and protected." You say as you reassure him. It was okay for him to feel this way, and you wanted him to accept that you really were open to his lifestyle. His gaze softens as his power trip flashed out of his mind and back to you in this very moment. He smiled sweetly before ghosting his lips with yours in a tender kiss.

As he tucks a piece of your hair lovingly behind your ear, he tries to piece together how he can properly articulate his newfound kink to you. Trying to ease into it with care.

Elvis speaks lightly. "I've uh, had this thought for sometime now and I was planning on finding the right moment to ask ya. How would you feel about introducing one of these into the bedroom?" He gestured to the guns on the desk.

And finally like a freight train it hit you right then and there. It all made sense in your mind. You felt a little dumb that it took you this long to piece it together. But honestly, you never knew that something like that was a sexual kink that people enjoyed. Was he seriously talking about what you think he was talking about?!

You took a moment to pause and collect your thoughts before speaking. "I'm not quite sure if I follow, E. Are you saying while we're having sex you want to use a gun on me?" You questioned.

Without missing a beat he steps in to further explain, hoping he didn't set himself up for failure. "I know how it may sound, but you know that I would never hurt even the smallest hair on your head, little one. I'd protect you with my life. But, yes that's what I mean. Obviously the gun wouldn't be loaded. It's just...there's something about it and you together that I can't get outta my damn mind. I would just...grab hold of it like this..."

He selects one of his guns at random, his .357 magnum revolver, and picks it up in his hand, grasping the ivory grip like a pro. You hate to admit it but he looked too good with that piece in on his person. He slowly makes his way over to you, letting you see the gun by his side.

"...And, let it touch you like this..."

He let the barrel of the gun graze over the sheer black robe you had on over your lingerie, pulling back the fabric like a stage curtain and exposing your inner thigh to him. A shaky sigh of fear and arousal spilled past your lips. His touch was feather light but it felt heavy all the same in your mind. You suppose it was the fear of a weapon pointing at you in the lightest of ways that made you shake.

Noticing your reaction, Elvis takes that as a sign that he hopefully argued his point well. He raises his eyebrow inquisitively "...What do you say, Y/N?"

The ball was now in your court, and you were frozen on the spot. Your mind ran a million miles a minute. You've never had a gun come in close contact with you before. And while this was confusing and you weren't entirely sure how you could see this fantasy playing out in real time, you were little by little warming up to the idea. I mean, you implicitly trusted Elvis with your life. And he said the gun wouldn't be loaded. So in this mixed state of emotions, and the throbbing in your panties only getting stronger, you caved.

"Well, if this is something that you really want then I suppose we can give it a try."

Elvis breathed a sigh of relief. He places his free hand over his heart in earnest. "Thank you, baby. I promise, I won't ever hurt you. And if it gets to be too much then you stop and tell me at any time. Alright?"

Words just totally fail you in this moment. Your mouth was agape, ready to try and say anything, but nothing came out. So instead you simply nod your head to his question, hoping that would suffice.

He purses his lips and moves his hand to lay his hip. He was not gonna take that for his answer. He needed your implicit, verbal consent. "I'm gonna need a straight answer from you, babydoll. To make sure we're on the same page."

You try to steady your obvious nerves by breathing in deeply and exhaling through your nose. You did want to consent to this. Elvis would never push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. And while this fantasy involving guns in the bedroom was intimidating, you wanted to try this for his sake. Who knows, maybe you'd actually enjoy whatever he had in store for you. You just knew that this was a situation where your faith in him was being tested. But deep down in your soul you knew everything would be okay.

Finally ready to speak, you clasp your hands together in front of you and look him in the eye. "Yes, El. If it's too much i'll tell you. I promise."

"That's my good girl. Always so obedient."

You had officially reached the point of no return. You were fully at his whim and you were going to see this fantasy of his through. Elvis closes the gap between your bodies and pulls you by the small of your waist into him with a searing kiss that turns your extremities into jelly. His other hand still grasping the revolver that he will be using tonight, remains by your side. Suddenly, you jump slightly at the harsh coldness of the metal brushing up against your leg. He was testing how you reacted to the gun to break the ice.

It's a strange feeling that you're sure to be used to by the end of the night. Using the long barrel of the gun, he places it behind the tie of your robe and pulls forward. The fabric quickly unravels with ease, exposing your black bra, panties and thigh stockings to him. Elvis licked his lips at the gorgeous sight, firmly pressing his cock against your mound with a hiss.

"Get on the bed, lil mama."

The game has started. You would be lying to yourself if you weren't a little bit nervous for what was going to happen next. But, you did as you were told. Before you knew it, your feet were sauntering on their own over to the large bed in the center of the room. He followed behind, slowly stalking you like a predator watching their prey. You could feel his stare burning a hole in the back of your head as he watched you make your way to the bed. The anticipation hung heavy in the air between both of you.

You gathered the hem of your robe in your hands as you climbed the high king sized bed and lay pristinely in the middle of the satin black sheets. Your heartbeat was pounding so hard and fast waiting for him to make a move that you felt you were sure to have a heart attack. Elvis never broke eye contact with you as he took his final place between your legs at the foot of the bed, towering over you with his tall frame. The moonlight from the windows behind him casted the most beautiful shadows, contouring his chiseled features. He looked gorgeous, which made your heart beat even faster.

The gears in his head were already starting to turn, you could tell Elvis was trying to figure out what to do first. He had been thinking about this exact predicament with you in his mind for so long. But now that he had you completely at his mercy on the bed in a demurely submissive pose with the gun in his hand, it was an intense high that no other drug could give him.

Finally after what felt like an eternity passing by, he brought his free hand up and made a come hither motion to you.

"Come down more towards me, baby." He rasped.

You complied, inching your way down the bed towards him. He put his hand on your knee when you were in his perfect placement - your ass nearly hanging off the edge of the bed and your knees bent in front of you. Elvis wanted as little space between you and him as possible for the twisted game that was enfolding before you.

With both hands now, he took your knees and forced them apart, spreading your legs even wider for his sinful gaze. Your face burned hot and red with nervousness and arousal as he could see just how wet you were for him. It was a beautiful sight he could never tire of seeing. Your panties were completely soaked through. You gave yourself away and practically handed over any self control you thought you had left. The ball was now in his court to do whatever he wanted with you, and he knew the effect he had over your body.

Elvis licked his lips greedily as he fixated on your clothed pussy totally drenched your juices. He whistled in appreciation. "Fuck. I'm gonna enjoy having my way with you."

Somehow your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of mulberry at how exposed you were to his lustful eye. You hadn't forgotten the revolver though, he made sure it stayed exactly in your line of sight so you knew it wasn't going anywhere.

It was at this point that there was no turning back. As soon as the bone chilling metal made contact with your searing soft skin you sucked in a shaky breath, hissing at the contact. It was torturously slow how Elvis took the edge of the barrel and traced over your delicate inner thigh, making a B-Line right for your core -- But not before teasing you a bit more and repeating the same dragging motion on your other thigh. He was making sure you got used to the feeling of the gun in small steps before diving right in. Elvis was showing complete restraint in this moment to not go right for where you both wanted him to be. The payoff would be worth the wait.

Your body was shaking like a leaf on a tree. The feeling of this dangerous weapon on your body tore you in two about how you should feel. One part of you knew that you absolutely should not be turned on right now by how dangerous this was. But there was another part of you that screamed louder in your brain that was actually enjoying this sick game. Elvis has a way of making you want to do these crazy things that you know you shouldn't. But it's oh-so good.

"El..." You moaned demurely. Your hips rose off of the bed, desperate for contact from him. You wanted Elvis to touch you, lick you, fuck you, literally anything. You were unraveling under his touch like he knew you would. But since this was his fantasy, you had to relinquish any and all freewill.

He was definitely getting off on the control he held in his hands. He chuckled dryly under his breath at how badly you wanted him. "Sssh, don't worry honey. You know that i'll always give you what you want." His words sent a shiver up your spine and a new pool of wetness in your ruined panties. And it didn't help matters when your large doe eyes traveled down his body and locked onto his massive erection that was threatening to rip his trousers in half. He was having too much fun toying with you to focus on his own pleasure right now, even though he was painfully hard. You wanted to have you way with his cock but you knew you couldn't.

Elvis right then and there decided on his next move. He wouldn't wait anymore. He took his free hand and ran his thumb up your covered slit, rubbing tiny circle over your clit. The strangled moan that escaped your pretty lips was almost blood curdlingly loud at the feeling of his hands finally touching your desire. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head and your hips matched the rhythm he set. This simple act alone was enough to put you over the edge based on the fact that Elvis Presley himself is making you feel this good.

He couldn't help but flash his signature cheeky side smile at the sight of you writhing on the bed. His gorgeous good girl clinging for purchase against the satin sheets at he plays with your pussy. He was in heaven. In one swift movement that nearly took you by surprise, he took his thumb off of you and hooked it around the hem of your panties and pulled them down your legs. But if that alone wasn't enough, he just had to bed down to take your soaked panties in his mouth with a sexy wink and tuck them into one of his trouser pockets -- keeping them for later use. The fucking sexy bastard. You knew you would never see those panties again. They were forever his.

Now here you were, your dripping wet throbbing pussy was on display for him. You felt like you were a three course meal for the taking at his leisure. If you thought the anticipation was heavy before, it was like a fog that clung to the both of you in this moment. He was a man out of his mind, hellbent on making you come tonight in a way you never did before. He felt like a God, letting his machismo getting the better of him as he peered down at you with heavy lidded eyes.

It was on. And there was no stopping what was about to happen.

Elvis looked down at the gun and then looked back at your pussy, grasping the ivory grip firmly in his large hand. The veins bulging as he gripped firmly. His decision was made. As you lay there looking up at your man who wielded all of this incredible power you tried to calm your nerves as best you could. Now that you were exposed to him, what was he going to do? Well, you didn't have to ponder too long about that question before he went all in.

"Elvis!" You squealed loudly. Elvis pointed the gun downwards and took the entire length of the barrel and made direct contact with your slick. It was a shock to the system to feel the clammy metal pressed right against your soft pussy lips. It was orgasmic in the most depraved ways.

But he didn't stop there. He positioned the revolver at nearly a 90 degree angle so that it brushed up against your folds and your clit all in one full swoop. He made quick work of rocking the barrel against your soaking cunt, your juices completely coating the weapon. The burly, deep groan that roared from the pits of his chest as he saw your pussy envelop his gun was erotic. And you couldn't help but grind yourself back against the barrel, making sure your clit came into contact with it every time he pressed into you. You two set a perfect pace that snatched your soul.

His jaw flexed, ragged breaths escaping his lips. "Holy fuckin' Christ. Look at you. My good little whore. Gettin' off on my gun."

You shook against him as you let out a moan. This feeling was so foreign to you, but it was sinfully pleasurable. You never thought in a million years you would actually be enjoying being touched with such a weapon. But right now with Elvis, this was everything. No wonder this was a fantasy for him. You wished he had shared this with you before. Is this what you were missing out on this whole time?!

"Fuck, Elvis!!" You groaned breathlessly, grinding yourself harder and faster against his gun. The slippery gushing sounds of your pussy filled the air and swirled in his ears. As you lay there on the bed, head thrown back in pure ecstasy at what he's making you feel, you hear the faint rustling of Elvis's zipper being pulled down.

You got disgustingly wet at the sight before you. Elvis had one hand on his gun buried deep in your cunt, and his other hand was stroking his thick cock. He was mimicking the same pace he set on your pussy on his cock, getting off entirely on his ultimate fantasy come to life. He was lost in chasing your pleasure and his. A tantalizing bead of precum leaked from his red tip that he spread over himself.

"You're doin' so good for me, angel. So, goddamn good. You're makin' me fuckin' hard."

Never in your wildest dreams would you ever imagine that you could come exactly like this, but he's griding the barrel of the gun perfectly against your clit. It's impossible to deny to both of you that you're close. The pit in your stomach coils, tightly winding up inside you. You scream a string of sweet moans that's his favorite sound in the world, and your legs betray you by thrashing violently against the bed.

"Elvis please! I-I'm gonna..." You pleaded with him with your eyes, tears spilling over the brim. It was all too much to bare. The most powerful orgasm of your life was knocking, and you're hoping he would give you want you wanted.

Elvis gripped his cock tighter, jerking himself faster, wanting to come with you. He knew he was a goner if you came exactly like this -- his fantasy and reality merging together as one. "That's it baby, give it to me come on. I want your pretty pussy to come all over my revolver. Give me what's mine." He growled huskily, pushing you over the edge.

And with that, your body gave way to the incredible force of your crashing orgasm. Your walls fluttered around nothing, but coming hard and fast regardless. You muttered profanities and Elvis's name in a beautiful concoction, like you were entranced under a spell.

Elvis was right behind you, groaning your name loudly, sure to wake the whole of Las Vegas, as his hot come splattered all over your lower stomach, marking you as his girl. You were both utterly spent, and you didn't even properly fuck each other. It was an amazing feat that the two of you accomplished together on this very night. This was definitely one for the books.

As you both shared a comfortable silence and riding the final tumbling spills of your orgasms, you winced when Elvis shakily removed his revolver from your pussy. He brought it up to inspect the weapon with intent -- eyeing the dirty details in the way your juices enveloped the barrel and made its way into all the nooks and crannies. The corner of his mouth perked up in a sly smirk, admiring his handiwork.

"Hot damn. This for sure just became my favorite gun."

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 8 months

Text

Track Marks And Dial Tones IV

Summary: A cigarette smoked in the dead of night comes back to bite you…

Pairing: Clay Roach x fem!cop!Reader

Word Count: - 2.1k

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+!, We're Back On The Angst Train, Mentions Of (Past) Self-Harm, Crying, Clay's Dirty AF Flat, Mentions Of Used Needles And Drug Paraphernalia, Mentions Of Withdrawal, Agent Rohr Being Agent Asshole

A/N: *sits down with a grilled cheese sandwich and strawberry milk*

Find The Other Parts Here!

Tagging the horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess

Love like a needle full of methadone

Potent but not real, left you wanting more

Lipstick track-marks bleeding wet

Like Montagues and Capulets

For us child, the stars refuse to shine

Why for us child, do the stars refuse to shine?

- Methadone By Rise Against

"Time to unfuck this hellhole…" You sighted to yourself, the seams of a pair of thick nitrile gloves tight around your wrists, as you crouched down to shove piles of rubbish into a blackened trash bag.

Involuntarily, memories of this morning, from mere hours ago, flooded your mind because you had knelt down just the same in front of your wardrobe, shoving t-shirts and left-behind shorts from your ex into a gray duffle bag. The bare necessities to drop Clay off at rehab with, before you could pick up some preferably more personal things for him later in the afternoon. Cleaning out his flat alone would pose as a multiple-day-endeavor for which you had called in sick. It hadn't exactly felt like lying to you because you indeed felt sick to some degree. Sick with worry, sick with anxiety and sick with sheer uncertainty about what kind of situation you had conjured for Clay and yourself.

You felt the fuse short-circuiting inside of your brain way before you could do anything against it and with it, a violent rush of hot tears spilled from your tear ducts, soaking your cheeks in no time.

"God, you're so stupid, girl.", You taunted yourself, your torso involuntarily leaning in further forward until your forehead touched down on the dusty, wooden panels, "All you had to do was drive him to fucking rehab, but no, you just had to mess it up."

Your own sore voice echoed back, cutting through you over and over again as heavy droplets pooled down from the tip of your nose. Breathless cries and poorly choked-back sobs rattled through your ribcage and your entire body gradually felt like falling apart in this self-made misery.

"Pathetic…", You sniffled, clawing your shaking hands around your chest, a desperate attempt to physically keep yourself together, "Pathetic! Pathetic! Pathetic!"

For a moment, you sensed the pressing urge to just hammer your head against the floor until the bodily pain would wash over the emotional one. For a split second, you considered it, raising your forehead from the wooden panels whilst closing your burning eyes but instead of thudding it down the way your senses told you to, you halted, stifled even your shallow breaths for a moment.

No, that wouldn't be what Clay wanted you to do right now. He wouldn't want you breaking down over the ridiculous, anxiety-driven nightmares your brain was spewing out like venom for they were nothing but a panicked, blown out of proportion fever dream.

"It'll be okay, it'll be fine…" Trying to bounce right back from the pit of darkness that threatened to swallow you whole, you took a deep breath and sat back up against your heels, arms still tightly wrapped around your torso.

Reluctantly, you raised one palm to your face, wiping it clean from the spill of tears and snot before you inhaled again, reaching for the trash bag and continued on your tedious journey through seemingly endless amounts of clutter and debris.

The hallway for sure wasn't even the worst part. That spot of dubious fame was reserved for Clay's "living room". Careful, avid to not just clutch down right into a hidden away needle, you skimmed through every accumulation of litter with utmost attention to everything, discarding orange plastic caps and syringes alike into a hard plastic container while sorting the plenty of used-up test strips into the general waste.

"Good lord…" You commented on your findings with a murmur, your mind trying to piece together just how many test kits and clean rigs you'd brought him over the past months.

It really must've been quite the amount. All that shit better be gone after detox was over. Just to make sure that this wouldn't just pose as a massive violation of Clay's private space, you had asked him about it on the way to rehab, as he stared out of the window of your car with watery eyes, while the first treacherous, tell-tale droplets of sweat had started to soak through the collar of his shirt.

"You don't have to do that, you know that." Clay had answered to you, his leg nervously bouncing up and down at an erratic pace.

"Yeah, but I want to help you, you know that, too." You had tried to work up a faint smile but it was more of a weirdly lopsided contraction of your lips.

"Don't you think that you've already done more than enough of that? That's more than I'd ever ask for…" Clay had cleared his throat while he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Well, then, good that you aren't asking for it, huh? I'm offering it and all I need to know is that it's okay with you." You led your car to turn right after a crossing, eventually turning into a long avenue leading uphill toward the facility.

"I don't think you'd find anything you haven't seen already. So yeah, thank you." He had agreed with a short nod of his head, his eyes flickering right back to the building that slowly came into view.

With that, he had sealed himself the deal of a clean place to start anew after making it through detox, which would be a journey he’d have to take on his own.

Taking a deep breath whilst sitting back on your heels, your eyes wandered towards the pile of empty strawberry milk cartons in the corner. You pondered over tackling them today, but just the thought of dealing with that desolate kitchen situation led your stomach to twist and turn in disgust. Yeah, no, decluttering the hallway plus the most part of the living room had to be enough for a start.

The late autumn sun hung low as you drove back home, stopping by a pharmacy to get yourself something to deal with the anxiety-fueled nausea. You also bought a few sets of sweatpants and matching hoodies to drop them off at the rehab center tomorrow. Both of your hands filled with your car keys and shopping bags, you let the door to the driver seat fall shut behind you after parking.

"Good afternoon!" You whirled your head towards your doorsteps so hard that you heard your neck cracking.

"Agent Rohr?" Your brows arched in confusion and an unwell feeling started to settle in your stomach.

This man meant nothing but bad news and you avoided him as far as possible. Agent Rohr was an animal, a raging, self-righteous bear that not only roared but simply destroyed what wasn't to his liking.

"Little trip to the pharmacy, I see?" The gray-haired man in his 50s nodded towards the crinkled, brown paper bag in your grasp.

"I'm a bit nauseous, yes.", You strode past him, fumbling with your keys to unlock the door, "What do you want, Agent?"

"Oh, I heard you called in sick today and I just wanted to make sure it's nothing too bad. Heavy case of the flu going 'round the PD lately." The sarcasm practically dripped out of every word that left his slightly curled up lips.

"I should be back to normal in just a few days, thank you." You sneered back, wanting nothing more but to get him out of your sight.

"Does the name Clay Roach ring any bell with you, detective? The dirty junkie from the corner with the cheap diner downtown?" He eventually started shooting his verbal ammunition, causing the hairs at the nape of your neck to perk up.

"He works as my informant, why?" Your fingers clasped themselves around the key in your hand, the scratched metal of Clay's apartment key dangling right next to yours started to burn against your skin.

"We might want to have a little talk about him, if you'd be so kind as to let me in." Agent Rohr pushed against the door with the tip of his boot, forcing it to swing open with you waddling right behind it, not letting go of the key chain.

"Thank you!" He mocked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trench coat as he waltzed right into your kitchen to sit down at the table.

"Fucking bastard…" You groaned to yourself under your breath, trying to soothe your racing thoughts from spiraling out of control again.

Caly…what was going on? Did he break out of rehab or something and why would Agent Rohr even so much as move a finger about that?

"Suit yourself." You huffed at the man, sitting down across from him after closing the door back shut behind you.

"So!", He let one flattened palm hit onto the table, making you flinch involuntarily, "Clay, huh?"

"Pardon?" In a weak attempt to shield yourself from his greasy demeanor, you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Did the heroin dick get you off good?" Rohr nearly spat every word with nothing but I'll intention towards you, his other hand excitedly roaming through an inside pocket of his coat.

"Excuse me?!" You shot back at him, your stomach dropping in panic.

"I'm wondering if he could even get one up, did he?", Grinning widely to himself, he pulled a stack of pictures from the pocket, placing one after the other right in front of you, "Little fucked out lovebirds."

You recognized how your eyes wandered over a well-familiar setting captured out of a different perspective whilst everything in you grew cold as the bomb of fear detonated in your system.

"You know, a while ago I looked at the inventory lists, annoying paperwork but every once in a while I gotta check 'em, and I realized that a truly wild amount of test kits and sterile needles weren't there anymore. Plus, someone from the street worker personnel asked me if I possibly knew where all this was going? So, I started looking around a little bit and what did my eyes have to see?" He tapped the picture that was taken right in the moment you had leaned in to press a kiss to Clay's lips the night before.

"What's even up with all those scars, ew." In a mockingly disgusted grimace, Rohr taunted you.

"None of this is any of your goddamn business. If you want me to pay the department for all the supplies, fine. Done deal." You eventually answered to him.

"I don't think you're getting away with just that, missy.", He chuckled, making himself comfortable on his chair, "Petty theft and a juicy violation of your code of conduct? Hm, the HR commission won't be a fan of that, I'm sure."

"Are you blackmailing me, Rohr?" You clenched your jaws, teeth grinding against each other.

"Looks like it, no? You really kinda got yourself in a situation here now." You stared at each other for a moment, your heart raging in your chest.

“You are really blackmailing me over applying harm reduction to my informant?” Rohr nodded while he let out a biting laugh.

“You call it harm reduction and I see petty theft and fucking a junkie. Tough luck.” The Agent shrugged his shoulders in amusement.

“What do you want from me then, huh? What’s in it for you?” You felt like pouncing him to gauge his eyes out or to strangle him for that stupid grin on his face to disappear.

“Ooooh, I thought about that!”, His eyes bore into yours, a glint of malevolence flickering through them, “I think, I just wanna fuck around a little, get that heroin dick outta you. You’re a fine woman and your file is squeaky clean. Would be a shame for somebody to ruin that, no?”

“Get out of my house.” Your voice turned aggressive and loud.

“Think about it.”

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!”

#rory culkin #clay roach #city on a hill #clay roach x reader #clay roach x you #Track Marks And Dial Tones

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ya-zz · 11 months

Note

And an idea, you can write it if you wish or not! Just thought I'd share one my favorite ideas with Ramattra. Imagine Ramattra harboring those mixed feelings about reader, denying his love and trying his hardest to keep staring at them, the chief - the enemy, the one who leads the human against the omnics attacks. It was true that Ramattra was spared, saved even by that human when he was heavily injured. But he kept telling himself it was a strategy, some sort of pity. Until he found himself in the same situation, this time although - that human was the one injured, bracing for his finishing blow for it to never come. What would Ramattra do, from now on? -Nia

This is such a cool idea! I can kinda see him doing that though, sparing a humans life if they spared his, an eye-for-an-eye sorta thing.

I had been working on this all day, hopefully it's done some justice to your idea ♥

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1735

The first time he laid his optics on you, they were filled with hatred, a pure malice as he fought his way through the army of humans. He utterly despised you, wanted to see you underneath his feet and scrambling for your last breath.

Yet, despite all of that, he saw something else within you. What it was, he couldn’t place a servos on it. Admiration? Surely not, you were a human fighting against his people.

When you had spared his life, his body and mind was frozen and not just from the shock. He was confused and rightly so. You were his enemy, standing over him with your gun raised to his head. After lowering it and walking away, he watched your back before you disappeared into the rubble and smoke. You let him live.

He returned home that evening and assessed the damages he had received. A shattered faceplate, several damaged cables, he had lost some movement in his hand and his chest plate was severely dented. His mind was still intact despite the trauma towards it, but the errors within his vision didn’t go away and neither did the one memory file he couldn’t delete.

Ramattra played it through over and over again, burning that file deep within his systems. The look of pity on your face as you looked down at him, that cockiness in your voice as you spoke out. He wondered if it was all a part of your plan, letting him suffer that way as it sure as hell worked - it angered him to the point that meditation failed to work.

Every time he planned his next attack, he would sit there and ponder whether or not you would be there. He planned a way to fight back against you, to destroy your army and have you begging him for mercy.

His soldiers had noticed but never spoke out, instead they watched him wander aimlessly around the halls of Null Sector muttering to himself as his hand would rest on the purple metal of his chin, contemplating the entire situation.

There was something about you. Something he couldn’t quite place. It was driving him crazy.

When he was next attacking, he caught sight of you, arm raised and commanding your soldiers to stop his attacks, head held high with a look of confidence on your face. Only then did it click within him but he dismissed the entire notion, instead focussing on the battle at hand. He admired you for your leadership.

It was a battle for the papers, the highs and lows. Several were hurt, human and omnic alike. Many were dead, others unknown.

As the gunfire slowed down, his optics scanned the surrounding area, looking at the destruction caused and the casualties below him. A quiet chuckle escaped him, another victory for him. When he continued to look around, his optics landed on you, watching you pick up one of your fallen brothers, hand bloody against his back as you helped him limp back to the dropship.

You glanced back at the sight behind you before your own eyes landed on top of the Null Sector leader, watching him stand there, the smoke behind him being blown by the wind. His head cocked to the side as you narrowed your eyes at him before turning back and walking away.

He noticed it, the way you looked at him, but he didn’t push it any further, instead letting you go. You were a mess, a mixture of oil and blood on your cheeks and he noticed the slight fear and anger in your eyes before you looked away.

When he returned back to base, repairing the miniscule damages to his body, he only went and rummaged through his files to look back on the fight. He never saw you after that moment of your commands and before you left helping one of your men back. He wondered where you were, something of which he had never done before. As he opened the file, watching it on the screen, he questioned what he was doing. Never in his life, ever since he was created, did he ever go searching for a human, let alone the one whom he’s fighting against.

Part of him couldn’t deny the ever growing feelings towards you. You were both leaders in your own armies, both destined to fight each other until one succeeds, either dead or alive. Someone has to win. Someone must win.

The next attack came sooner than you had planned. Half of your men were still recovering, others withdrew completely. “It was a war that can’t be won,” they said. “We can’t do this anymore,” they said. They were words you hated to hear, but you gave your men their discharge papers and told them to get on with the rest of their lives the best they could, all with a smile. Behind that smile, though, you believed them. You knew it was next to impossible, but you had no choice. The higher ups had chosen you to lead, a replacement for the last commander. It was a cycle that would continue until this hell ended.

As you approached the next scene with what was left of your previous men and some newbies, you scan the surrounding area, gun locked and ready to fire at the slightest movement.

Ramattra and Null Sector appeared a few moments later, a raise of his fist halted all movement on his side. You mimicked it, ordering your men to stop in place and they obeyed as usual.

His optics scanned you, his sensors picking up on your damage, a weak point. Fighting with broken limbs, how noble, he thought. A leader must fight, regardless of their damages. He knew this and so did you.

However, you knew that this was to be your final battle. Regardless if you win or not, you knew that your time was coming, there was only so much your body could take, especially considering you hadn’t recovered from the last attack.

His gaze never left yours as he raised his fist one more time.

That was the signal.

Both parties launch forward, gunfire and shouting echoing through the streets as both leaders stand there for a moment longer before approaching each other.

He shielded himself from your bullets, watching your shaky legs transport you across asphalt and further towards him. It wasn’t fear pushing you, it was adrenaline. An R-7000 unit leading Null Sector had taken the world by storm, it was all the talk within the squads back at the home base. When the higher ups demanded you to take lead, your heart practically stopped and a new fear bubbled up inside of you.

Predict it, overcome that fear and strike. Knock him off balance, if only for a moment to get him down. If you were going out, might as well let him do it one way or another, but you weren’t going down without a fight.

Or so you thought-

His fist connected with your cheek, knocking you back. All air had escaped from your lungs as you hit the ground, nose gushing with blood. You spat what you could away from you, arms barely able to lift you to your feet. He stood by, watching you struggle to stand, watching you wince in pain.

Another hit to the gut nearly had you out as you fell back down, head hitting the concrete.

He stood over you, foot either side of your torso. The cold, dead stare he gave you was unnerving as you look up at him, blurry eyes scanning for something, anything.

“Pitiful human.” He speaks out among the gunfire, malice dripping from his tone. His foot connected with your chest, digging down and eliciting a yelp from your throat. He felt something break inside of you and a part of him felt wrong.

Your eyes never left his face as the pain in your chest and head grew. His optics never left yours either, and despite being hidden by his faceplate, his optics connect with yours for a brief moment. Fear. Adrenaline… Admiration… Defeat…

He removed his foot and knelt down over you, cocking his head to the side as if he was studying you. Such a strange little thing, he thought. Strong, but… clearly not strong enough. A small chuckle escaped his vocaliser which brought a chill down your spine. He noticed the change in your expression, how scared you looked underneath him.

His arm raised and he saw you flinch before bringing his hand down again, but this time, it connected to your cheek softly.

He watched as your eyes widened, shocked at the sudden soft connection. Despite everything inside of him telling him to end your suffering right now, something else pulled his wires, something else told him to spare you, much like you spared him. Something inside of him didn’t hate you anymore.

He was conflicted, as any omnic leader would surely feel when they like a human.

Nothing could’ve prepared you more. It’s like everything had fallen silent, his hand still on your cheek as you looked up at him, confusion present in your eyes.

“This… is for sparing me.” It was all he said as he stood up and walked away, leaving you a confused and broken mess on the asphalt, barely able to lean up and watch him walk back to his army.

The fighting ended soon after, whether or not he called them off, you weren’t too sure, but it was eerily quiet.

Someone mumbled out that it was a stalemate, a very rare occurrence. Two of your men picked you up, escorting you back to the dropship. Weakly, you turn your head back, catching a glimpse of the omnic watching you.

He was sure he made eye contact with you, however he was still uncertain with that as he turned away, heading back to Null Sector to plan his next attack… an attack that wouldn’t take place for a long time - his mind stayed on you, hoping you would recover without any issues or complications before then.

He refused to kill you, not out of fear, but out of respect. Of course, it was something he kept quiet for a long time. A little wire inside of him burned gently, a feeling he only felt towards his kind. Compassion… towards a human… towards you.

Part 2

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