#i hope your maid steals all your money fuck you
Text
this shit makes me so angry because i deal with assholes like this all the time in ASIA where i live as an ASIAN (not a US AMERICAN!!) who treat their maids and domestic workers like absolute garbage, the amount of abuse that happens is insane and you think you're somehow exempt from fucked up class relations and being clueless about how poor people in your own country are treated because you're not a Yankee? are you seriously stupid? i despise people like you more than anything, people who should know better and don't because you have Zero class awareness and you think that you know everything simply due to your nationality when you know damn well you are not treated the same as others in your own country let alone elsewhere in the world due to your economic status.
I've seen Indian women Related to me abuse their Indonesian maids in Malaysia as though it was their God given right and lost my shit at them, reported them to local orgs that help abused maids find safer work, told everyone what I saw, cut them out of my life, made clear to them that they are absolute scum of the earth and that the only thing separating them from their maid is the Money they have. You are probably no better than those women, treating human beings like property and thinking yourself the most oppressed person alive simply because you're from the global majority and that any critique of your Lifestyle is simply because the person Doesn't Get It because they're American. "This is US centric I am an expat when I am a Malaysian and live in Dubai" I'm from your country and I know exactly the context of this Lifestyle and I am telling you that you are a cunt. Your Class status shields you from the greatest harm the global south faces, you will never face the danger those labelled "migrant workers" face but you parade yourself online like you are the expert because you hold an Asian passport and you have travelled everywhere. all that money and no brain or compassion and a biggest victim complex. and you will continue to play victim because the westerners are watching but i see you and I know your heart is rotten. fuck all of you for real
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
that cherished feeling.
it's a feeling you've never felt before, but bakugou shows you just how wonderful it can feel.
a/n: this is the longest oneshot i've ever written and ive been working on this for like a week lol. i really hope you guys enjoy this :)) i love fantasy au's and specifically (1) barbarian!bakugou!
pairing: barbarian!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
word count: 8,010
warnings: parental abuse, death
“Make sure she looks decent enough for him.”
With a frown, you keep your gaze held ahead even as you’re pulled and tugged in all directions without a single care for your own wellbeing. You know to keep silent, hands held tightly before yourself to stop the violent shaking that overwhelms your body caused by the fear that strikes you deep in the heart.
“He’ll be here any moment,” your step-mother continues, voice cruel, “hurry up!” Her words are hissed at the maids that fret around you, bustling about as they pin your hair back and dust makeup across your face to hide the insecurities your mother refuses to let him see. They’ve been at it for hours now, or at least it feels that way, and you’re tired of being poked and prodded at all for the sake of a man who will probably kill you the second he’s done using you.
They’re barbaric..
They fuck and kill and pillage anything within sight.
They’re monsters.
You’ve heard these whispers around the castle your entire life, maids tucked into corners whispering amongst themselves, the cruel words your step-mother has spat to her council plenty of times. Your entire life you’ve heard about how horrible the Adroghar’s are, that they came into power and nobility by killing Kings, Queens, Princes and Princess’ of different lands, stealing money and destroying villages.
Your entire life, you’ve been terrified of them.
And now, today, you were about to be married off to one – in other words, sold.
Have you heard? The Queen means to sell Y/N off to the King of the Adroghar tribe!
To Bakugou Katsuki? Isn’t he said to be the most ruthless King they’ve ever had in power?
He’ll kill her. Or worse. Certainly.
If it’s for our safety though, I can’t say I care much…
Yes. Our Queen is doing her best to keep us all safe.
Your step-mother has hated you since the day you were born. You were a constant, living, breathing reminder of your father’s indecency towards her and the second he’d died when you were two, she’s made it her goal to remind you of this fact every day of your life. You’ve been beaten, starved, locked away and treated like garbage by every single person you’ve ever known.
You’ve never felt love. Never felt warmth.
Not a single person has ever cared for you.
And now, to stop the Adroghar tribe from trampling on your land, your step-mother has sold you off to appease them. You had no say just like you never have.
“They’re here!”
A knight comes running into the room, flustered as he calls for your mother’s attention. His words make your entire being freeze, breath caught in the back of your throat as the fear makes your muscles tense.
“The Adrogharian tribe is here!”
Everything else happens in the blink of an eye–you’re forced to move, pulled by hands that grip and pinch at you, your corset tightened around your waist and a sheer shawl draped over your face to cover you from view. Before you know it you’re being led into the main hall where quickly the sound of boisterous chatter echoes and bounces around. You keep your head dipped down as your mother ordered you to, hands clasped politely before you as your nails dig and pinch into your skin.
The second the large doors slam behind you, you know your fate is sealed if it hadn’t already been.
Maybe you could’ve run. Maybe you could’ve tried to fight.
But you know it would’ve ended the same either way.
This is how it’s been your entire life.
Your mother stands directly in front of you, blocking you from view, but you let yourself slowly peek upward, through your lashes. You see the tenseness of your mother’s back as she moves to greet your guests, before slowly letting your eyes drift to who will soon be your husband. Katsuki Bakugou. He’s been the King of the Adroghar tribe for a few years now, having taken over after his mother passed–and since then has made quite a name for himself for being one of the most ruthless and cruel Kings to ever grace the Adroghar tribe.
Considering their record of ruthlessness, this fact scared you even more.
He’s tall, buff with wide shoulders and large hands. His hair is a light blonde that sticks out in every direction, unruly on his head and yet it suits his red, piercing eyes that seem as they penetrate your very sole. He’s wearing a cloak lined with fur, his neck decorated with necklaces with what you can only assume is teeth. The fashion of the Adroghar tribe is very different from the customs of your people, as he wears only trousers and no shirt, showing the world his chiseled chest.
He’s both intimidating and terrifying.
“Ah, King Bakugou,” your step-mother calls out, bowing slowly. It’s odd to see your step-mother bend for another, but you also know she’s deathly afraid of the man before her; given that they had the ability to completely wipe all of you out. “Thank you for making the long trip this way.”
Bakugou regards her with narrowed eyes, shoulders set back as he grunts out; “what’s this offer you have for me?”
Your eyes widen, hands clutching your skirt–he didn’t know?
Letting out a nervous laugh, your step-mother nods; “I heard you have yet to take a wife, my King.”
You watch, best you can see, as his lips set into a thin line. “Our traditions are different from your own,” he hisses, “but… yes. I have not.”
“Well, then, my Bakugou, I offer you my daughter in return for the safety of our Kingdom.”
She steps back then, and you tense, nails digging into the palm of your hands hard enough to draw blood as you raise your head just slightly. Bakugou’s eyes fall on you then, narrowed and dark as he regards you, and feels as if he’s peering into your very soul as you stare back at him then.
“Let me see her face.” Bakugou calls, gesturing for you to step forward.
You move to do so, but you can’t get your feet to work. You’re paralyzed with fear, you realize somewhere along the way–terrified of this man in front of you and the men that linger around him, laughing, cheering, all staring at you with the same leering look that fills your stomach with knots and makes it hard to breathe.
You catch your step-mothers gaze when you don’t move and she’s looking at you with wild panic as she gestures for you to step forward.
You can’t.
“Is she mute or just stupid?” Bakugou hisses.
Your eyes widen, and you feel like you might puke.
Your step-mother’s hand is wrapping around your arm in the next second, grip pinching, yanking you forward as a small yelp leaves your lips in response. You’re thrown, losing your footing as you come crashing to your knees directly in front of the King, your step-mother yanking the shawl off of your head in the next second and a new sense of vulnerability washes over you.
Your step-mother had adorned you in incredibly revealing clothing, more skin than you’ve ever shown on display for all of these leering men to see.
Too afraid to raise your head, you let out a whimper, curling into yourself.
You realize your actions could have you killed but you’re too afraid to care.
I’m going to be killed anyway… raped and then killed. What does any of it matter?
A minute passes and then slowly, Bakugou shifts in front of you. Before you know it, he’s kneeling in front of you, and terror strikes at you when you notice his arm move out of the corner of your eyes, flinching, expecting to be hit or worse, maybe he’s reaching for his sword to kill you–but, neither of that happens. You don’t feel pain or a slap across your cheek, instead, the touch is light and gentle despite his coarse skin as Bakugou gently clasps your jaw, moving your gaze upwards and on his own.
It’s the first time you’ve met his gaze head on, but oddly, his eyes don’t seem so intimidating this close.
He stares at you for a moment, a deep frown etched on his face, before his gaze raises, past you and onto your step-mother.
“Do you always treat your own family like this?”
Your eyes widen. Did he just–
“Bu-but my King, she wouldn’t–”
He scoffs, not even letting her finish and your step-mother falls eerily silent as he does. It’s like his entire personality had changed in the split second you’d been thrown to the ground. He shifts, his hands moving to grab you by the arm, but his grip is gentle, just tight enough to pull you up to your feet. You let him, confused and baffled by what was happening, as your arms curl around you to cover yourself, letting him guide you behind him as you turn to face your step-mother.
You don’t see it, too focused on her harsh gaze on you, but something warm is wrapped around your shoulders a moment later and your eyes fall on Bakugou with parted lips as he clasps his cloak around your neck. He doesn’t smile, but his eyes are soft as you grab his cloak gently, gripping the material close to yourself as the warmth envelops you.
Bakugou turns to face your step-mother, his face dark and his words menacing. “I should have your head for that.”
Her eyes bulge, as do yours—you can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe what’s happening. Never once has anyone stood up for you, and the last person you ever thought that would was the man you’d been sold to. A barbarian. A monster.
Yet, despite everything you’ve been told your entire life, he didn’t didn’t seem like a monster to you at that moment.
Your step-mother sputters over her words, indignation flooding her as she stares back at Bakugou. Then, her eyes drift to yours, gaze cold and steely and you know in that moment, like everything else she’s felt has gone wrong, she blames you entirely.
“She’s just the daughter of a measly prostitute!” Your step-mother bellows, eyes crazed as she loses her composure, voice echoing across the suddenly silent hall. No one says a word as she stands there, huffing with rage. Even Bakugou’s men have fallen eerily silent.
“She’s just the baby of a whore with not a single claim to the throne,” she laughs, hand reaching out to point towards you. “I was giving you to her as a ruse! She’s nothing more than scum on the underside of my shoe.”
The silence echoes and drags.
It feels like hours of agonizing anticipation as not a single person says anything. You can’t see Bakugou’s face but yours is burning red with the humiliation of your truth being spilled out to everyone, most of all Bakugou. Your step-mother has spent her life reminding you, never once letting you live without hearing similar words in the back of your mind. It wasn’t like your people didn’t know either—maids had spent their life leering down at you and knights had laughed at you anytime you’d drifted past them.
But it’s a new sort of humiliation having it be said in front of Bakugou and his men.
A minute later, but it feels like eternity, Bakugou finally steps forward. It’s one single step, his wide back thoroughly blocking your view of your step-mother in front of you. It’s one step but he’s standing right in front of your mother, close enough to touch her.
“You should know,” Bakugou starts slowly, voice low. “That your background isn’t a matter of concern in the Adroghar tribe. We don’t care if you’re born from a whore or nobility.”
Your face eases, staring at his bare back.
Then, in the next second, he shifts. It feels like you blink and you miss it. There’s a flash of something red and then the thud of something falling to the ground, before your eyes lower and fall on the head of your step-mother, severed from the rest of her body. Her now lifeless eyes stare back at you, lips left parted from her attempt to scream before Bakugou beheaded her—but she never got the chance.
“Kill the rest of them,” Bakugou orders, turning to face you, a streak of blood across his cheek.
Everyone?
He wanted to kill everyone?
“Here!”
Small hands are thrust in your face, gripping onto the delicate, beautifully made flower crown and behind the hands, rest a beaming face, staring up at you with twinkling eyes.
“For the princess.”
But– the children…
“P-Please!” You’re speaking before you realize it, your voice squeaking in panic as you step towards Bakugou. Your arm pulls out from beneath the large, heavy cloak he’d draped over you seconds ago, meeting his eyes imploringly. “The v-villagers! The children! Please, spare them.”
Bakugou turns to you, shocked eyes falling on you.
You take his expression as one of anger and with a cry, you fall to your knees, holding your hands out before you. “Please, my K-King. Spare the villagers. They’re… they’re innocent.”
A moment of silence passes. Your face is turned towards the ground, forehead all but pressed against the cold stoned floor, shaking as flashes of that sweet, innocent little girl smiling at you surface in your mind. They don’t deserve to die. You don’t care about the rest of them–not your mother who laid dead and beheaded a few feet in front of you and not the maids or the guards who have leered and laughed and tortured you your entire life. But the villagers–the children don’t deserve to die.
“Spare the villagers,” Bakugou orders, and your eyes widen, the beige of the floor flooding your vision. “But kill the rest.”
He–
“Stand up.” Hands fall on your arms, tugging you back to your feet as you stare at Bakugou bewildered. His face is blank, but there’s a hint of something in his eyes you just can’t quite make out. “If you are to be my Queen, I cannot have you on your knees. Not for anyone, including me.”
It seems the customs of the Adroghar tribe are much different than your own, the thought occurs to you. But it isn’t this fact that baffles you. It’s the fact that he calls you his Queen…
He–he still wants to marry you?
“I was promised a bride,” Bakugou calls out, as if he’d heard your thoughts and it’s the first hint of a smile you see on his face as he glances down at you. “I intend to have one.”
-
You stare at the licks of the fire before you, eyes watching the dance of the flames that heat your cheeks.
In the dead of the night, Bakugou’s men are as loud as ever. They cheer and laugh around the fire a few feet away from you, some bustling about as they feed the horses and make sure everything is in order for travel tomorrow.
You’d all only travelled for a few hours before Bakugou had called for you all to stop for rest. His men had seemed confused and you yourself had expected to travel for longer given that it had still been quite bright out at the time–but Bakugou had just brushed off the questioning gazes of his men and had helped you off the horse you’d been riding with him. His grip was gentle as he guided you to your feet, ordered his men to prepare a fire for you and then left you there once it was done.
You hadn’t seen him since.
You held his cloak which was still wrapped around your shoulders tightly, your grip tight as every step that sounded just a little too close made you flinch. You were confused and dazed by the events of the day, still not even sure if you’d properly registered what had happened. Your step-mother was dead, murdered in front of you, and now the rest of your family and all of your servants are dead as well.
You’d expected Bakugou to reject the marriage at the end of it all but…
I was promised a bride. I intend to have one.
And yet he’d said those words so softly, with an odd warmth to them. Yet, you’d be taken with him as he left your castle, the only home you’ve ever known, placed on his horse right in front of him and now staring at a fire in his people’s camp. Yet, you were meant to follow him all the way back to his home and marry him.
Just how has your life changed so much in such a short amount of time?
“Have you eaten anything?”
Gasping lightly at the voice, your head snaps upwards, wide eyes falling on Bakugou’s. He’s stepping towards you, a plate in his hands as he makes his way to sit beside you on the small cot his men had prepared for you. Your eyes watch as he moves, not having properly registered his question as he takes a seat directly beside you. His leg brushes against your own and you hug his cloak tighter to yourself, body tensing.
“Sorry,” he mumbles gruffly, having caught your reaction. He pulls his leg away and then holds the plate out in front of you. “Are you hungry?”
Your eyes dance across the food on the plate, puzzled by the sight. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.
“All that’s… for me?”
Bakugou’s eyes flicker to the plate, raising a brow; “yes?”
“O-oh, thank you,” with shaky hands, you grab the plate, setting it down on your lap. You feel Bakugou’s eyes on you as you ponder what to try first. It’s not just the amount of the food on the plate, it looks much different than anything you’ve ever seen back at home. You may not have been fed much and whilst you usually were given scraps, you know that this is very different to the traditional food your people eat.
Tentatively, you reach out, taking a bit of it in between your fingers once you notice the lack of utensils and place it in your mouth. Instantly, you're hit with a wave of flavour you’ve never tasted before. Your eyes widen as the taste floods your entire mouth, eyes gleaming with delight as you let out a small moan without thinking.
Bakugou chuckles beside you.
Your eyes fall on him, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Never tried Adrograhian food before, I take it?”
You shake your head, “that and… well, I’ve never had something so… full of flavour.”
Bakugou blinks, the smile fading from his lips as you turn away, trying to ignore the look on his face as you place your attention back on the food. The two of you sit in silence as you eat the rest of the food, perhaps eating faster and bit more messier than Bakugou probably would’ve expected from you–but you’ve never tasted something so decedent nor had so much food to eat all for yourself.
When he doesn’t punish you the first few times for shoving your mouth full, you figure it’s alright too.
“Thank you,” you call out to him once the food is done, your voice a soft whisper as you smile softly over at him. “Thank you.” You bow your head.
“There’s no need to do that,” Bakugou calls out in a rush, shaking his head. “You don’t… I won’t… hurt you.”
Blinking, you stare at him, lips left parted.
Distantly, you notice red across his cheeks but Bakugou is standing before you can get a better look, pushing himself to his feet before turning, back facing you. “Get some rest,” he grunts, “we have a long day of travel ahead of us tomorrow.”
You watch him walk off, watch as his back grows further and further away, until you’re once again left alone. Except, this time you don’t feel so lonely.
A small smile curls onto your lips as his words echo in your mind.
I won’t hurt you.
-
Adroghar is beautiful and unlike anything you’ve ever heard.
You’re not sure what you expected, but tall, ornate buildings with intricate and detailed designs across them all are not what you expected. There’s people everywhere, bustling about, and cheers echo as Bakugou comes marching through with the rest of his men, smiles on their faces as they reach out towards him, celebrating his return.
It isn’t barbaric.
And it isn’t poor and littered and destroyed like you expected.
It’s… lively and warm and inviting.
“So, this is the famous daughter of Cassian Heinrich.”
The second Bakugou pulls you off his horse and sets you onto your feet, you’re grabbed by a pair of hands and pulled into a bright smiling face that beams back at you. It’s a woman, her eyes twinkling with delight and her skin pink and her hair the same colour. She’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, and you’re shocked, confused by this sudden demanding presence but yet, as you meet her eyes, there’s only warmth staring back at you.
“Oi,” Bakugou calls out, a hand resting on your shoulder as his other hand moves to the girl and yanks her back. “Don’t bombard her like that.”
“Whatever, Bakugou,” the woman scoffs, brushing him off with a wave of the hand.
Your eyes widen at the action–isn’t he the King?
Just who is this woman to regard him so casually?
You half expect Bakugou to kill her for her lack of respect towards him, but as your eyes flutter toward him, you’re bewildered as he simply just scoffs, a light smile on his head as he shakes his head.
“Mina,” Bakugou calls after a moment.
Mina. What a pretty name.
“Hm?” she hums, eyes flickering lazily to glance at him.
“Could you please help Y/N bathe and find some clothes for her to wear?” Bakugou calls out, gesturing to you. “Make sure to wash that shit off her face.”
You pause at his words, eyes flickering to the ground as you distantly reach towards your face. It wasn’t that you thought you were particularly beautiful, if anything, you’d always thought you were quite ugly and your mother had reminded you often that you were. But… but you’d hoped maybe Bakugou had thought differently.
That maybe he’d seen something in you.
Had the makeup your mother had put you made you look worse?
“You really don’t know how to talk to women, Bakugou,” Mina scoffs, stepping towards her as she pulls her arm, tucking you into her side. You stare at her, blinking, before glancing over at Bakugou who stares back, baffled. “Don’t worry,” Mina sings, smiling brightly at you as you slowly put your attention back on her. “Let’s get you bathed and cleaned, all right?”
You nod, slowly, staring back at Bakugou who watches you leave.
Oddly, you don’t want to leave his side.
-
Mina was chatty.
Very.
The entire time she bathes you, washes your face and hair and dresses you, she barely stops speaking.
It’s comforting, in an odd way. She fills in the silence where you can’t find the words, too overwhelmed by everything to know what to say.
She’s gentle, too. Where the maids back home had pulled and prodded, sneering at you as they reluctantly helped bathed you–it was rare, only on special occasions where your mother needed you for appearances but you’d always dreaded it. They were cruel and harsh and mean and everything in between.
Mina is none of that.
You even smile as she tells you stories about Bakugou. Apparently the two of them have known each other since they were children–them and a few others that Mina tells you about and assures you’ll meet soon.
Once cleaned, dried and dressed, she politely excuses herself, assuring you Bakugou will arrive shortly. You’re left startled when she distantly informs you that it’s Bakugou’s room you’ve been led to but she’s gone before you can say anything otherwise, so, once again left alone, you take a seat on the edge of his bed, not sure what to do.
Your eyes drift across the room, but you don’t dare move.
His room is rather vacant but large. There’s a huge bed, fur carpets draped across the floors and the bed, some swords lined on the wall and a set of armor tucked away in the corner, along with a desk scattered with papers right across from you. It’s everything you would’ve expected from a man like Bakugou.
Still, it makes you feel like you learn just a little about him.
You jump as the door slams open, body freezing as Bakugou comes barelling in. There's a nasty look on his face and it’s like he doesn’t notice you as he strides right past you, throwing a piece of paper onto the desk across from the bed. Your entire body tenses, shoulders straightening as you hesitate, unsure if you should say something or not.
But before you can make the decision, Bakugou’s red, piercing eyes are on you.
However, in an instant, the anger in his eyes is gone. Instead, his gaze softens, eyes wide with pure shock at the sight of you.
“I… I told Mina to lead you to a spare room,” Bakugou explains, “I wasn’t expecting you.”
You move to stand; “I-I can leave–”
“No,” Bakugou calls out, crossing the distance between you in seconds as he reaches for you. You pause, not daring to move as his hand hovers in front of you, instinctively flinching–he halts the second you do, panicked. Your eyes meet his, and you stare, both of you silent, before your gaze flickers to his hand, and you nod.
His fingers brush against the skin of your cheek, eyes dancing across your face.
“You look… beautiful.”
It’s not what you expected.
It never would’ve been what you expected.
No… no one has ever called you beautiful.
“They covered you with all that makeup,” he continues, voice soft. “But now that I can really see you… you’re beautiful, Y/N.”
Your eyes stare at his cheeks warming.
“You… you really think that?”
He frowns, “yes,” and there isn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice.
Tentatively, unsure, you raise your hand, setting it over his own. “No one has ever called me that before.”
“Beautiful?”
You nod.
The frown deepens, and Bakugou wants to say more but all he says instead is; “well, you are.”
You smile up at him. Soft, gentle and demure. But there’s so much feeling behind the smile, portraying every bit of emotion Bakugou has made you feel in the short amount of time you've been with him.
“Thank you.”
And he stares back, unsure of the feelings coursing through him–he’d had every intention of denying your mother’s proposal, of slaughtering them all and you included. When he’d first seen you, he’d scoffed at the sight of you, dressed in fine silk that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, your face covered as it was tradition for your people. You’d look skittish, curled into yourself, head bowed and Bakugou couldn’t deny that in that moment, he’d felt nothing.
Not a single thing towards you.
And then your mother had grabbed you and tossed you to his feet, ripping the shawl off your face and Bakugou can’t quite explain it but… something had changed.
Everything had changed.
He thinks back to the conversation he’d had with one of his men just minutes before entering his room, about what was expected of him.
“You must consummate your marriage.”
Bakugou sighs, “I’ve told you, Sero, I have no intention of–”
“Why’d you take her back with us if you had no intention of giving her a child?”
Narrowing his eyes, Bakugou turns to look at the man standing across from him. “Did you expect me to just leave her there? With her family's blood across the walls and no one to take care of her?”
Sero pauses, face twisting into an expression of bewilderment; “I expected you to kill her like the rest of them. She’s just an ordinary human.”
Bakugou can’t rightly explain it but rage seethes through his body at Sero’s word. He’s crossing the distance over to him in seconds, wrapping a hand around the man’s throat and squeezing with a manic look in his face.
“Don’t talk about her like that.”
To his credit, Sero doesn’t falter; “I don’t understand why this girl means so much to you.”
Swallowing thickly, Bakugou huffs, pulling away as he spins, scoffing. “I don’t know,” he mutters, frustrated at his own lack of understanding. Sero was right. You were just an ordinary woman, apparently born from an illegitimate relationship. You had no special qualities, had been raised as a noble by the looks of it–you were skittish and quiet and jumpy and nothing special.
Bakugou was the King of the Adroghar tribe. He had dragon’s blood coursing through his veins, had strength unheard of and the endurance and ability of a warrior. He’s been raised to be a King, to take charge, to pillage and kill and take what he wants without a single care for anyone else.
Most of all, everyone expected him to pick an Adrogharian woman to marry.
Not a human.
Not you.
“I’m heading to my tent,” Bakugou grunts, “make sure I am left alone.”
“Bakugou?”
Blinking, Bakugou is pulled from his thoughts at the sound of your soft voice calling for him.
He leans back when he realizes you’ve leaned forward, concern etched in your eyes as you stare up at him. It’s instinctive the way his eyes trail lower, and he does it without thought, eyes drifting across your soft, supple skin, taking note of the dress Mina had dressed you in; it was thin, the edges hemmed with lace and rather sheer.
Instantly, he feels his face warm.
You must consummate your marriage tonight.
“You may sleep here tonight,” Bakugou suddenly calls out in a rush, pushing himself off the bed and turning so his back is facing you. “I will sleep somewhere else.”
He’s opening the door before you can say anything, calling out a short ‘goodnight’ over his shoulder before the door slams shut behind him. You jump as he does, lips curving down as he leaves you, once again, all by yourself.
He must’ve been repulsed, you can’t help but think despite his words.
There’s no way a man like him could think you were beautiful.
-
It’s been a few days since Bakugou took you home and you haven’t seen him once since that night.
Your days are mostly spent in the company of Mina and a handful of maids that Bakugou had assigned to you. Despite the sense of familiarity you slowly develop each day, there’s a nag at the back of your mind at Bakugou’s lack of presence–you weren’t sure what you had done, but whatever it had been clearly had been enough to cause him to avoid you.
Today’s the first day Mina has left you alone, with the excuse that there are duties she’s been neglecting that she must attend to. You brush aside her worries, assuring her that it’s alright and spend the first hour of your morning sitting in Bakugou’s room, basically doing nothing. You expected Bakugou to have you assigned to your own room since that first night he left you, given that after all this was his room you were sleeping in–but he never did and still not really knowing your way around the castle completely and not being told otherwise, you remain there.
Then again, the lack of Mina or even your handmaids, makes the experience incredibly more lonely.
You’re bored.
Incredibly so.
So, you ignore the fear striking your heart, still unsure of the limits that were expected of you, and leave his room. The whole thing is one huge maze, but eventually you find yourself outside, tucked away into a huge field lined by a huge forest, with a cave directly in the middle of it. There isn’t a single person around, and everything is entirely silent; you can hear the wind brush through the glass and leaves, can hear your footsteps as you walk and can hear your own heart racing madly against your chest.
It’s beautiful. Everything you’ve seen since arriving here has been beautiful but this… little alcove is gorgeous.
Smiling softly to yourself, you crouch, letting your hands drift across the grass, enjoying the feeling of it against your skin. This is the most freedom you’ve ever felt your entire life and you’ve never been allowed to just explore without the prying eyes of your mother watching your back, staring you down with judgement and hatred.
It’s a new feeling and one you rejoice in, laughing quietly to yourself.
But you’re quickly pulled out of your own little world at the sound of thud, one that rumbles underneath your feet. It causes you to jump, body tensing in fear, head snapping upwards, only for your eyes to fall on… a dragon.
It’s… huge.
It towers over you, a great, large beast that steps out from beneath the confines of the cave, dazzling red scales and eyes that stare right back at you. Oddly, you’re not afraid–you’re frozen in the spot, standing there as it steps towards you, hands limp by your sides and you can’t find it within you to move or walk or do anything but… but you’re not afraid. This dragon could kill you in seconds and it’s one of the most intimidating creatures you’ve ever seen, but you feel comfort as it stares back at you.
You’d known dragons had existed and somewhere in the back of your mind you’d known that the Adrogharian tribe was famous for being dragon tamers–but you’ve never seen one in person.
It… snorts? You’re not sure. Its mouth opens and a noise you’ve never quite heard before comes out, a brush of strong wind hitting you directly in the face, nearly knocking you off your feet.
And then, somehow, you find yourself laughing.
It's the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen
Distantly wondering if you’re crazy, you step forward, small, tentative steps until you’re directly in front of the dragon. Its snout is within reach, and slowly, you raise your hand, eyes flickering from its snout to its eyes, hesitant, before you let your hand fall on the front of its snout. Your hand barely covers any of the dragon, the sheer size of it massive compared to you but its scales are coarse and rough beneath the soft touch of your fingers.
Then, ever so slightly, you watch as its eyes fall shut and he pushes, gently, toward your hand.
“Oh,” you call softly, “nice to meet you too, dragon. My name is Y/N.”
It lets out a gruff, and you pull back with a laugh as it shakes its head.
“His name is Kirishima.”
A yelp leaves your lips as you spin, eyes falling on that of Bakugou who’s stood in front of you.
Panic strikes you, worried he’ll be mad you left his castle or worse, that you even left his room. Swallowing thickly, you step towards him, hands held out before you; “my K-King, I-I–”
“He normally doesn’t like new faces,” Bakugou cuts in gently, sending you a smile as he steps forward, turning his head towards the dragon. He reaches forward and the dragon, Kirishima, nudges its snout towards Bakugou, knocking into him far more aggressively than he had you. Bakugou barely nudges, staying strongly rooted to the spot as he pats Kirishima, before letting his eyes fall back on you.
“My King, I just wanted to get some fresh air, I–”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Bakugou assures, “everything within the castle is yours.”
Every tense muscle in your body eases, shoulders falling with disbelief.
“I wanted to introduce you to Kirishima,” Bakugou continues, smiling over at his dragon. “We’ve known each other since we were children. He’s very important to me.”
Letting your eyes fall on Kirishima, you flush; “and you wanted to introduce him to me?”
“Of course,” Bakugou assures with ease, nodding. “Isn’t it normally to share these things with your wife?”
Biting your lip, you glance at your feet; “I wasn’t sure you still… thought of me that way…”
Bakugou frowns, “I apologize for disappearing for a few days. I was preparing a surprise for you.”
Turning to him, surprised, your lips part; “a surprise?”
“Yes,” he smiles gently at you. “For tonight. Mina will help you prepare as well.”
-
“A picnic?”
Bakugou’s cheeks are bright red as he stares back at you.
“Do you not like it?”
Gathering your skirt, you shake your head, moving to sit in front of Bakugou. You’d wondered why Mina had dressed you in such light, airy clothes, a pretty pale pink colour as she fretted over making sure your hair was back and out of your face. It made sense now, you realize, that she’d gone to such lengths.
All for a picnic Bakugou had prepared.
“I love it,” you admit with a gentle smile, voice still quiet as you nod at him. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Mina helped me,” he explains, looking entirely too uncomfortable for something that was his plan. He’s sat across from you, one knee up which he rests his arm on, but his face is still burning red and it’s like he can’t meet your gaze properly as he explains. “I know nothing about wooing a woman.”
Before you know it, you’re laughing.
Bakugou’s eyes snap to yours, turning red even further (if that was even possible) as you quickly press your hands to your lips, trying to muffle the giggle.
It doesn’t help.
“Are you laughing at me?” Bakugou asks incredulously, eyes bulging.
You shake your head, despite how blatant of a lie that is. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, biting your lip as you smile over at him. “It’s just… are you trying to woo me?”
Pausing, Bakugou meets your eyes before quickly turning away. “Maybe,” he mutters, before his shoulders fall. “Yes. Is it working?”
Leaning forward, you shift, brushing your skirt under you as you get more comfortable. “Yes,” you assure. “I just didn’t expect that. Most men would’ve just married me, regardless of whether I wanted to or not.”
Bakugou stares at you. “Is that how it’s like with your people?”
You glance at the array of food, pleasantly happy when you recognize a few fruits you used to love as a little girl–it’s been ages since you’ve been allowed to taste the sweetness of a strawberry.
“Yes,” you explain, as if it’s normal. “If I were… not an illegitimate daughter, I probably would’ve been arranged to marry a few years ago.”
You pause, however, when you see the look of bafflement on Bakugou’s face.
“I mean,” you start, slowly. “That’s why my step-mother reached out to you, remember?”
You watch as Bakugou swallows thickly. “I didn’t know until I got there and I-I… well, what I said… I didn’t mean it.”
Your brows furrow before it clicks in your mind.
I was promised a bride. I intend to have one.
Lips parting, you blink at him owlishly.
“I wouldn’t ever force you to marry me.”
Hands moving to fall in your lap, you force yourself to utter the words; “and… if I said I wanted to?”
Bakugou shifts; “marry me?”
You meet his eyes nervously, nodding. “Yes.”
“Then… I’d say… I’d love to.”
The instant relief that floods you is comforting, the smile curling onto your face once more at his reassurance. “I would be honoured,” you grin over at him, “I’ve felt that way since you took me with you.”
Reaching forward, Bakugou takes your hand in his own; “it’s I who feels honoured.”
-
You were dressed in a beautiful white gown, decorated with lace and delicate designs sewn into the material. It cinched at the waist and reached the floor, with a trail that followed behind you. Your hair had been twisted and braided and pulled up into a hairstyle similar to the ones you used to wear as a little girl.
It was exactly like the style you’d grown up with and completely different from the Adrogharian traditions you’ve grown accustomed to. The only thing missing was the makeup across the face but you hadn’t argued when Mina had purposely avoided applying any–it brought both comfort and despair to you, staring back at your reflection through the mirror in front of you.
You… felt beautiful.
More than you ever had.
And it reminded you of home–of your childhood and brought a sense of comfort and familiarity to those early years of your life when your father had still been alive, memories of things you didn’t all together remember given how young you were but was a sense of nostalgia you rejoiced in. Before it had all been stolen from you cruelly and your step-mother had made it her goal to ruin you.
In that way, at the same time, it also reminded you of everything that had been stolen from you the second he’d died.
It was bittersweet and yet, it was the sweetest, kindest thing any single person had ever done for you and you cherished it.
“Are you ready?”
Turning to Mina, you nod.
You're led out of the room and down a few halls, until eventually the warm night air surrounds you. The sight before you astonishes you. Rows and rows of Bakugou’s men, all split in the middle where a path of flowers lay and at the end of it rests Bakugou, adorned in a regal shirt and trousers, so opposite of his normal attire. It looks odd on him in the same way he looks incredibly handsome.
And the realization sinks in then.
This is your wedding.
It had come to mind before given the dress but you weren’t sure, especially since Bakugou had talked about it but never beyond that initial conversation. You also figured that the wedding would be done in Adrogharian tradition.
This though? Made everything clear.
You turn to look at Mina who smiles brightly at you, clasping your arm in her own as she slowly starts to lead you down the aisle. Everyone’s eyes are on you, watching you but your attention is solely focused on Bakugou standing in front of you, hands clasped in front of him as he watches you grow closer and closer.
And then, suddenly you’re in front of him.
“Is… all this for me?” You whisper, clasping at your skirt nervously.
“Yes,” he nods, slowly, a nervous expression crossing his face. “Is… is it too much?”
You shake your head; “no,” you smile gently, “no this is… perfect.”
“Good.” His face eases instantly, and then, he tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Because this shirt is incredibly itchy and I’m wearing it for you.”
Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. It bursts from your lips, your hand instantly raising to cover your mouth as you giggle, glancing down at your feet. Bakugou stares at you as you laugh, never having heard the sound before, before he reaches forward, tilting your head upward by the chin.
He’s smiling gently down at you, his gaze the softest you’ve ever seen.
“Shall we get married?”
-
His touch is gentle–hesitant.
You can hear every breath he takes as you stare up at him, hands hovering before yourself.
“I don’t want to pressure you,” he whispers, using his arm to hold himself up. You’re splayed across his bed, the sleeve of your wedding dress slipping down the side of your shoulder, revealing bare skin that stares up at him mockingly.
He wants you–but he won’t force you.
Pressing your hands against his chest, you try to ignore the shake of your body; “it’s not… that I don’t want to,” you confess despite the flush across your cheeks and the heat soaring through your body. “I just… I’m afraid.”
“Of me?”
And his voice comes out quiet, scared. You barely catch it but it’s there, eyes flickering up to meet him as he stares back at you, concern etched into his face.
“No,” you assure, shaking your head. “No, not of you.”
He leans back, shifting so he’s sat back and you follow his movements, pushing yourself up to face him properly. Your hands fall limp in your lap as you stare down at them, clutching at your skin tightly as nerves well inside of you, make your chest tighten and your body tense with anxiety.
“Then…”
“My K-King–”
“Katsuki,” he cuts in, reaching for you. “Call me Katsuki.”
You pause. “Katsuki… before you, I'd never known love.” The words are uttered with pain, hands moving to hold yourself as you turn away from him, embarrassed. But you wanted him to know. Wanted him to understand. “My father died when I was just a little girl and the second he was gone, my mother spent the rest of my life torturing me. I was tucked away, kept hidden from people while she beat me, starved me and told me how I would… never measure up to anything.
“The day you came, she had every intention of selling me to you as a bargain piece for the safety of herself. And she expected you to kill me.”
Licking your lips, you turn to face him.
“That or worse.”
He stares at you, lips left parted with the hesitance of uncertainty.
“I expected the same,” you whisper, “but now I know you’re not like that. That you’re not some ruthless, barbaric man but you have a heart and your people love you. You’ve given me more happiness than I’ve ever felt and made me feel love for the first time since my father died… I’m not scared of you, I’m scared that once you see me–truly see me, I’ll lose you.”
There’s a beat of silence before Bakugou is leaning towards you. His hands fall on your waist and suddenly you’re falling back against the bed with a light huff of shock, eyes flickering up to meet his own that hover above you. He’s smiling, you realize, but there’s anger in his eyes–yet, it’s not directed at you.
There’s rage burning in his irises and you feel safe because of it.
“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he confesses. “The second I saw your face that day, my world lit up. I want to kill every person who’s ever hurt you, if I haven’t already. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make you forget about everything.”
You feel your heart quicken, his words echoing in your mind as you stare up at him and see only sincerity staring back at you.
His words are warm and loving and they make you feel like your skin is on fire, a lit with a sensation you’ve never felt. Love pours from his words and he stares at you like you’re the only person that matters–that you're the only person who exists in this world for him.
He envelopes you completely and you relish in it.
“Nothing could ever make me think otherwise.”
Reaching up, you cup his cheeks, fingers brushing against the skin before holding him, the edges of your lips quirked up with a soft, gentle smile..
“You really mean that?”
He nods, thumbs pressing into the pads of your hips, as his eyes dance across your face. “More than anything.”
“Okay then,” you laugh lightly, “then I give myself to you.”
He blinks, lips parting.
“Everything.”
And the surprise fades, replaced by pleasure as he leans forward, the ghost of his lips brushing against your own.
“And I give you the same in return.”
#mha#my hero academia#my hero academia x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bnha#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou fluff#barbarian!bakugou#barbarian!bakugou x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
MASQUERADE I ; jeongguk
pairing: prince!jk x princess!reader
synopsis: “You love me,” — “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming loser.”
genre: smut, angst, fluff
word count: 1,8k
warnings: enemies to lovers (idk), y/n gets SAd but jungkook comes to rescue, angry kook, jungkook takes care of y/n in the best way possible, needy!kook, he’s also shy shy shy, y/n is a total angel (pls i love her, my poor soul), oral (m receiving)
author’s note: i didn’t expect this to have 1,8k words but 🤷♀️, I hope you enjoy reading this!! (english is not my first language)
series masterlist | chapter two
“Miss Y/N you need to hurry up, your father is waiting for you at the ballroom.” Currently you were getting ready for another boring masquerade ball. Your father planes them every Halloween, it's been a tradition in your family for years.
Every year hundreds of people come to your castle. You don't know most of them, except for one family. The Jeon’s. Mr. Jeon is a very well-known king in a kingdom not far from yours, he's a great friend of your father. He and his wife are very nice people, well you can’t say that about their son.
Jeon Jeongguk, the motherfucker has been annoying you the second you were born. He is two years older than you but still acts like a toddler. Of course, there are moments when you enjoy his presence. Like the one time 4 years ago on your 16th birthday, he came to your rescue when he saw prince Han getting way too close to you.
After 40 minutes you were finally ready. Red ball gown, and a matching red mask with black rhinestones. Your hair was down with a little black tiara decorating your head. You looked stunning. When you walked into the ballroom all eyes were on you, people showering you with compliments. Well most of them were mothers of the princes that were here, all they wanted was just to get their sons to be your future husband so they could steal money from your father.
“Ah Y/N, you're finally here!” Your father cheered as he came to you and gave you a small peck on your forehead. “Yeah, the maids wanted to do their best.” You chuckled and walked away to the buffet. Different types of drinks and desserts on display. While you were deciding between wine or liquor a familiar voice rang through your ears.
“Y/NN.” Jeongguk whined putting his head on your shoulder. “You're out here drinking without me? How rude.” He continued. “Good to see you too.” You lowered your shoulder so his chin almost fell on the ground. “You love me,” He teased as he continued to walk by your side. “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming loser.”
“Oh my, Y/N you look gorgeous!” Mrs. Jeon gasped when she saw you, giving you a big hug and kissing you on the cheek. “You look gorgeous as always Miss Jeon.” You complimented her. “She’s pretty and polite, you raised her well, my friend.” Mr. Jeon said as he came to you, hugging you. “Thank you, Mr. Jeon.”
While you were enjoying your time dancing on the dance floor prince Han came to you. “Look who's here.” He chuckled as he eyed you up and down, eyes stopping at your cleavage. “Good to see you too Han.” You gave him a fake smile as you continued to slowly sway your hips to the music. “Looking alone, your prince charming isn’t here today?” He kept on coming closer to you and you started to get uncomfortable. “Firstly, Jeongguk is not my prince charming. Secondly, I already told you that I don't want to have anything with you.” You declared.
Han’s face was covered in something mixed with anger and shock. He grabbed you by the wrist and took you to the nearest room. “Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing!” You shouted as he covered your mouth with his palm. “Let me show you how you should respect a man.” He spit and his nasty fingers started to undo the strings on your corset. He was almost done undoing your corset when the door flung open.
“What the fuck is going on in here!” Jeongguk screamed, pure anger in his eyes. He looked at Han first then you, he saw your scared expression and already knew what was going on. “You son of a bitch!” Jeongguk punched Han in the face. Blood splattered across Han’s face as he fell on the ground, blacked out. “Y/N are you okay?” He came to you, a warm hand cupping your cheeks, fingertips rubbing your tears away. “N-no, can we go?” You sniffled coming closer to Jeongguk softly trembling. “Yeah, sure let me just tie your corset.”
When Jeongguk was done he gently took your hand and led you out of the room. Your lipstick was smeared and your hair was messy. But you couldn’t give two fucks about that right now, the only thing you wanted was just to be in your room with Jeongguk by your side.
“Which room is yours?” He asked as you two ran through the corridors. “The last one on the left.” You replied, feet hurting from the heels you were wearing. You and Jeongguk entered the room, the familiar scent of cinnamon hitting your nostrils.
“Take off your clothes and I'll prepare a bath for you.” He said and gave you a small peck on the lips. You were too shocked by the fact that he kissed you to even process what he was saying.
While you tried to get the massive dress off your body you heard a knocking on the closed door. “Hey, you alright in there?” Jeongguk’s muffled voice came through the door. “Yes, I just ca- fuck!” The heel of your shoe pierced through the bottom of the dress, tearing the skirt completely. “Y/N!” Jeongguk opened the door immediately covering his eyes when he saw your bare legs. “D-do you need my help, or s-should I just go?” He was too startled to even comprehend full words. “Guk it’s fine just help me out of this dress.” You assured him and peeled his hands off his eyes.
Jeongguk’s hands took off the remains of the skirt. “Guk could you maybe help me with the corset too?” Big doe eyes staring up at you. “You sure? I mean after what happened.” “Yes Jeongguk. I trust you.” Jungkook’s hands went to your back, untying the knots. The corset slid off your body showing off your black lace bra.
Jungkook’s cheeks were tinted a rosy color, his breath quickened and the bulge in his pants started to grow. “You okay Gukkie?” fuck, how could he be okay when you’re here in your laced underwear looking so fucking beautiful “Yeah I-I’m fine, I think the bath is ready.” He stuttered, quickly leaving the closet.
You weren’t stupid, you knew Jeongguk since you were kids. He always had this ‘big spoiled brat’ persona, but when it came to you he was a stuttering mess.
You have to admit, the bath is very nice. Warm water relaxing your muscles, bubbles swaying around you and muffled sounds of the tv coming from the bedroom.
You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the water swallow you. Thinking about the previous events that happened. How could Han be such an idiot, thank God Jungkook noticed that you were gone. What if he didn’t come, would Han rape you? You knew Han for about 6 years, he was always quite shy and didn’t like being around people. That changed when his mother tragically died in a car accident and since that, he’s been acting like a total douchebag.
“Y/N?” Jeongguk’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Yes?” You turned the faucet so you could hear him properly. “Can I come in?” His voice sounded so small and fragile. “Yeah.” The doorknob turned allowing Jeongguk into the room. As soon as he saw your naked figure covered by bubbles his ears turned bloody red. “I-I think I have forgotten I- uhm m-my.” “Gukkie it’s fine don't be nervous.” you leaned against the bathtub, head resting on your forearms. You've never seen him like this, he looked as if he could crumble under your touch.
He was staring into the ground, avoiding your gaze. “What have you forgotten?” His eyes looked up at you, traveling up and down your body, stopping at your plump lips which were still a little stained with lipstick. “Uhm I can’t find my glasses, I-I thought I left them here but I guess not.” You looked at him and then snorted. “What?” “You're wearing them on your head silly.” You giggled, the bubbles moving around exposing your body. Jeongguk gulped, his bulge now fully visible.
He followed your gaze and then quickly covered his crotch area with his hands. “Fuck I'm sorry Y/N, I-I didn’t mean to, you just looked so pretty and I couldn't.” He was full-on blabbering right now. “Hey Koo, look at me.” Doe eyes find yours, nervousness leaving his body. “It’s okay, I can help you.” His lips quickly turned into a smirk. How could he look like the cutest being on this planet and then look like a total sex God.
“Y/N fuck!” Jeongguk was a whimpering mess right now. Hair messy, eyes rolling to be back of his head, thighs trembling. “Shit, if you keep sucking me off like that I'm not going to going to last- ah!” Hot spurts of cum went down your throat. “I'm so sorry, I-I didn’t mean t-” “Open.” You pushed two fingers into his mouth. Sucking them slowly, he tasted the bittersweet taste of his cum. “Good boy Jeongukkie, just like that.”
While you and Jeongguk were having the time of your lives your father called from the other side of the room. “Y/N are you okay? I heard some whimpers are you crying?” Jeongguk’s eyes almost popped out of his skull. He quickly stood up picking up his clothing. “No dad, everything’s fine.” You assured, getting dressed up too. “Alright then, and please if you see Jungkook tell him that his parents are looking for him.” And with that, your father left.
“We should go shouldn't we?” Jeongguk stared at you, cheeks pink from the orgasm. “Yeah, yeah we should.” You were done tieing the laces on your heels when you felt Jeongguk’s hands on your waist. “This will be our secret right?” “Of course bunny.” You giggled and gave him a small peck on his lips.
“Ah finally, where have you two been?” “Sorry, Mr. Jeon, we were just walking around the castle.” “I see.” He smiled and walked away. “Jeongukkie what is that red mark on your neck.” Jungkook almost shit himself, looking at you in panic. “Oh, don't worry mom it's just a scratch.” He assured her. “Oh okay then dear.” She smiled.
“‘It's just a scratch’ Really Guk, you will need to work on your lies.” You mocked and grabbed him to the dance floor. “Okay next time I'm eating out that sweet pussy of yours and then we are going straight to your father, how about that?” He snickered. “Ah that offer sounds delicious.” You giggled and started to dance to the rhythm of the music.
© 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 2022. All rights reserved.
#𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#bts jk#jeon jk#jungkook#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook drabble#jungkook oneshot#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook fluff#jungkook fanfic
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Omg hi! i was wondering if i could request a tommy fic? i was thinking during the whole luca changretta war tommy finds (Reader) who is a harley quinn typa gal in the psych ward gets her out and asks to help him kill luca?
•Thank you for the request! Apologies it took so long to come out, hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Altered storyline, mentions of smut
The hallways were narrow as he passed by each barred cell, ignoring the familiar faces of many of his enemies. With each step he was inching closer to her menacing yet playful laugh. He was desperate at this point and being a Shelby he’d never like to admit that.
He really didn’t want to do this, but what other choice did he have? Y/N L/N was known very well for her crimes, many she had gotten away with until she attempted to blow up Tommy’s fucking pub and threatened his family, also the time where you had managed to do seduce his men guarding the company and breaking into the vault stealing a tremendous amount of money.
“Mr. Shelby, crawling back already are we? To what do I owe the displeasure?” She snarled at the sight of his frigid, cold stare.
Folding his hands and standing with a straight back, feet implanted solidly in his stance, he released a disgruntled breath.
“I need your help. You’re the only one who’s been able to out play me numerous times, and we have a common enemy we both want dead.” She simply giggled and rolled her eyes, not at all phased by his demeanor. Was he being serious right now?
“Regardless of who it is, why should I help you? After all you’re the reason I’m in this filthy, low ridden place. What could you possibly offer me that I can’t already get myself?”
“You’re freedom. No strings attached after Luca Changretta is dead.” The man’s name rolling off Tommy’s tongue boiled the blood in your veins. He was the man who had killed your mother and made you an orphan, depending on others for food, living on the streets growing up all by yourself at the ripe age of twelve.
He noticed the sudden change in your facial features and how your hands clung to the metal bars, knuckles turning white in anger.
“So what do you say? Do we have a deal?”
The breath of fresh air warmed your body, refreshing your sense of smell. Tommy had a tight grip around your bicep, untrusting that you held any type of loyalty to the arrangement.
Shoving you roughly into the car and locking the doors, he drove off filling you in on what the Changretta’s have been doing to his family, mentioning the death of his brother John.
Pulling into the driveway, knowing it had been a long, painful day, he thought it was best just to show you to your room and create a plan of takedown the following morning.
Your eyes widened in shock at the big expensive house, surprised to see he had a maid waiting on him, yet you couldn’t steer away from all of the fine china on the walls, the glistening silverware laying out on the clothed table.
“If I had known where you lived I would’ve ramsacked this play awhile ago, I mean look at this!” You picked up the ferrarce pink egg in your hand carelessly, magnifying it’s beauty and not being able to stop thinking how much money the antique could get you. Grasping the object out of your hand, Tommy forced you around back to the stairs where you heard pitter pattering footsteps rushing past you down the stairs.
Seeing the little boy so alight and full of energy brought a profound joyfulness to you. A person’s childhood is so precious, supposed to be the best time of life, never worrying about a thing, not understanding the hatefullness in the world. It made you sympathize a little.
“You have a child?” Tommy wasn’t going to entertain any conversation of his private life. He was uncomfortable enough having you here in this house with Charlie but what choice did he have?
“Don’t get any ideas, breakfast is at 8 am. This will be your room, windows have been barred, any sharp objects have been taken out, don’t bother trying anything.” The room had nothing but a singular king size bed in the center of the white painted room, a bathroom attached with a shower, toilet, and sink but no towels.
“I know you’re fucking crazy, I don’t need you trying to hang yourself or some shit. Frances will bring you one if needed but one of my men will be outside the bathroom to ensure you don’t try anything. Take it or leave it.”
Begrudgingly you tossed your belongings onto the bed, Tommy pulling out a cigarette in the process, glossing the tube over his plump lip.
It was all settled then. You’d head out first thing in the morning.
When the following day arrived you awoke to Tommy busting through the door, causing you to jolt upwards reaching for your weapon that wasn’t there thanks to his stupid rules.
“Artillery Square. It’s 8:01, you’re late. Get dressed. I want you to see how they operate.”
Ripping the blankets off the bed, Tommy tossed you a change of clothes, black pants with a black hoodie marching your darkened personality.
Huffing, you looked at him expectedly awaiting for some privacy to which he rolled his eyes as if he hadn’t seen women nude before.
Closing the door he waited outside for you.
The car drive consisted of etching out a plan. Tommy knew they were following behind him and informed you of where he had weapons set up on the different floors and railings outside. Why did he have to plan everything and be serious? Didn’t he like risk taking every once in awhile, so utterly boring.
“Stay close.” The men had taken a different turn probably in hopes of throwing Tommy off but that wouldn’t work.
Passing by civilians he motioned for them to go inside that danger was near. They wasted no time in auietly running up to their rooms in fear, fully knowing that whenever a Shelby was around, trouble always seemed to follow.
Turning around Tommy realized you weren’t behind him anymore. Huffing and scanning the area he found you sitting on the curb of the sidewalk next to a bakery petting a stray pup with a croissant in your hand, as if there weren’t italian men scattered throughout Birmingham looking to complete their vendetta.
In a powerful stride he walked over to you, gripping the small of your wrist angrily and dragging you along with him.
“Hey! Y’know what your problem is Tommy? You’re so uptight all the time, jesus relax every once in awhile.” Rounding the corner, he shifted and slammed you against the alley wall effortlessly, causing your creamed croissant to fall to the ground, pissing you off.
“Really! That croissant was the only good thing going in my life, it gets tiring constantly being spied on and not being trusted y’know.” His hand struck you across the cheek, causing your head to whip to the left from his harmful blow, smacking against the brick wall.
“Ow! What the fuck Shelby!” Your stomach bubbled with fury, arms flailing and hitting his rock hard chest trying to fight back against his strong hold.
“Listen to me alright? This isn’t some fancy fucking get away. We had an agreement, so stay hidden before you blow our fucking cover or I will take you right back to the fucking coppers and have you readmitted, Got it, eh?” She giggled menacingly, rolling her eyes from the masculine, testosterone fueled facade, not at all intimidated by him. If anything a little turned on by his threats and the chokehold he had you in.
In a quick, swift movement you giggled before raising your knee and striking him directly in the ball causing the older Shelby to hunch over in pain.
“Lay a hand on me again and I will drown you in your fucking sleep. Got it?” You snickered sarcastically, smiling at the feeble position you put him in.
“Now, let’s get back to business and set aside the pleasure shall we?”
The two of you scoped Artillery Square, the block being hing with sheets and laundry around every turn while innocent civilians were inside the homes they rightfully owned.
Enough people had died from these fuckers, children included and Tommy refused to have any more unnecessary blood shed.
Hearing footsteps from behind, Tommy motioned for you to follow him in the building. The empty hallways eerily quiet as bystanders were crouched in their rooms hiding beneath tables, fleeing to corners and shielding their children.
All of Birmingham knew the Chagrettas were in town and what a black hand meant. The italian Mafia had been a profound problem back in the state of New York, innocent lived being taken just for being in the same vicinity as who they were after.
Quieting the worrisome families, you raised a finger to your lips with each passing room, ears and eyes at the ready to think fast.
At that moment a bullet richoeted through one of the windows, hitting a metal wall and flying up toward the ceiling shattering a light bulb connected to a ceiling fan.
On high alert, Tommy whipped you around toward the other side of the hallway, pushing you forth by the low of your back. Birmingham wasn’t a place you were completely familiar with but Tommy knew these streets and buildings like the back of his hand.
“Go! Go!” As windows shattered, you held your bat at the ready, looking to fight as Tommy instructed you where to go, but you had plans of your own.
Instead you turned around, walking back out toward the parking lot where the gunfire was coming from.
“Where the fuck are you going?!” You shrugged your shoulders, glancing back at him daringly while batting your eyelashes.
The need and want to see Luca’s face again after so long consumed you but Tommy was faster.
In an instant he thrashed your body down onto the floor, saving your head from a bullet that would’ve went right through you skull.
“That’s enough. Save your fucking anger for later. If he sees your face he will be a step ahead. So just fucking listen to me!” You groaned from the tumble, slamming your hand on the floor in frustration.
Days turned into weeks until you were face to face with the man.
Hiding in a room, you filed your nails carelessly listening in on the conversation, awaiting Tommy’s cue.
“You can sign the papers on your fucking knees.” The intimidating man pushed the papers off the table, the contracts scattering across the floor in a whimsy manner. When Tommy still didn’t move, still didn’t speak it angered Luca immensely, causing him to flip over the table in fury.
“Sign the fucking papers.” Tommy’s crystal blue eyes never left Luca’s in fact he found his little performance quite hysterical. He simply smirked, attempting to hold back his laughter.
“All of your blood relatives are gone Mr. Changretta. The men behind you will work for whoever the highest bidder is and well how the turned tables have turned.”
“Is that so?” When he turned around to face what were once his men, they stepped back with the guns in their hands fully aware of the plan Tommy had implemented.
“A friend of mine once told me big fucks small. So I had to find someone bigger than you. Someone whom you crossed years ago and has been locked up ever since. You see I did some digging as well.”
Coming out from the shadows, bat ready at the hand. You didn’t like guns as much, bullets were too much of an easy kill, you wanted to see him suffer. Tommy winked your way causing Luca to spin around only to be met with the brunt force of the wooden object against his skull.
At that moment Tommy fleed from his kneeling position, pulling his gun out to finally end this yet you stopped him.
“Allow me to do the honors. Boys stand down, I’ve been waiting my whole life to kill this piece of shit and oh how I want to see him suffer the way I did.
Luca fumbled to get up, a few of his teeth now lying on the floor while blood trickled out from his mouth like a river flowed down a winding stream.
The man jumped at you, spitting blood on your face. Oh how you loved a challenge.
In one powerful swing, the bat banged at his knee, shattering the bone completely leaving him once again on the floor writhing in pain.
In that moment a flashback of your childhood rushed to your head. Remembering the moment you eere cowering in the corner of the kitchen floor, scared and terrified of this man who had just killed your entire family, leaving you an orphan.
You began to beat him relentlessly with the bat, blood splattering on your face as his face became deformed from the brutal blows.
When you began to cry hysterically, Tommy slowly walked to your aid pulling you into his warm embrace carefully, rubbing your temple soothingly as you welt into his shoulder. The motion was unexpected to say the least.
“He’s dead now love. He’s dead.” Your fist scrunched in the fabric of his shirt, tears forming a puddle on him as you tried to relax. He nodded his head motioning for Pol and Michael to leave the room. To make light of the situation, Tommy decided a joke was necessary which was rare.
“Seeing as this wasn’t your vendetta alone, do you mind if I-“ His hand settled on his gun, and he waited for your agreement.
He emptied the chamber of his pistol onto Luca’s body before escorting you back to his home.
Offering you a glass of whiskey, he took a seat beside the fire nodding toward the chair beside him and pouring a glass for you.
The fire crackled in the darkened room, a comforting sense of relief after the strenuous events of today.
“Y’know you and me make a pretty good team, don’t you think?” Tommy smiled softly, something he hadn’t done in awhile.
Quirking his eyebrow, he pulled out a ciagrette, passing one to you before lighting the tube of tobacco.
“I guess you can say that.” There was a moment of silence before you stood up from your seat, walking slowly over to Tommy and straddling his lap. Your plush lips just centimeters away from his as your fingers intertwined in the strands of his hair. Your ass grinding down on his lap.
“Now that I’m a free little bird now, I don’t know about you, but I’m in desperate need of some stress relief. What do yuh say Tommy boy?” His hands placed on your thighs, he lifted you up effortlessly taking you by surprise and carrying you into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.
#thomas shelby#Tommy shelby#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders#ranaewrites#requested
90 notes
·
View notes
Note
i missed the voting 😭😭 and the opportunity to cheat 😇😇 imma do an ask game instead(??) 😀😀
Little Fears!Ari, Cruel!Andy, Holy Grail!Ransom, WaW!Steve, CL!Steve — who is more notorious for panty stealing from most to least 🥴🥴 and under which specific circumstances do they commit the crime 😏😏
*toot toot* congratulations again, our president of thots 🥳🥳 will never stop praising ur reign 🎉🎉
hehe it’s oki bestie, ok probably do another survey soon-ish ! You can cheat then🌚
𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠
Omg, let’s do this 😵💫— from most to least, mini drabbles !
Captain’s Legacy!Steve: well, he already took them from the maid situation at the frat house so here’s another specific circumstance—he doesn’t steal them from your dresser (not yet hehe) but it’s a football game and he fingered you and made you ride his thigh in the locker room, then took your panties for “good luck on the field” and he most definitely keeps them tucked under his jersey. He also takes it out to uhm… smell… during breaks and maybe leaves it hanging out a lil bc he wants to see the embarrassment on your face when it accidentally falls out on the grass.
Holy Grail!Ransom: he steals them all the time from your dresser, sending you pictures of them in his hand or covered in his cum. One time he took you out to buy more “my collection is getting a little boring” “yeah? My drawer is fucking empty” “that’s why we’re going to buy more!” after he fills you up bc he likes watching you waddle around the mall bc yes dressing room sex in one of those fancy boutiques he insists treating you at. And usually, he pushes you in the backseat of his Beemer bc “daddy needs to clean you up so we don’t ruin the leather” while flipping up your skirt.
WaW!Steve: Tarzan!Steve is insatiable so to him it makes perfect sense for you to never wear panties anyway. So he hides most of them, and makes it a point to steal them right off of you whenever he gets the chance bc he loves being able to have you anytime he wants/he also thinks it’s very freeing since he just wore the loincloth in the jungle. When you first caught him hiding them in the closet his only excuse was: “why even need if we experience all the time? Just waste of space… money… better without, sunshine, trust.”
Little Fears!Ari: you were wearing his leather jacket when you felt fabric in the pocket, to your surprise, they were the same panties you wore yesterday when you and Ari had a little dinner date at his apartment. “Oops, I’ll take those.” He chuckles, plucking them from your hand and shoving it in the glovebox of your car. He’s currently diving, the rain pattering on the windshield and radio humming softly in the background. “Sorry, baby, forgot I had those.” “You carry them around?” “Why wouldn’t I?” He turns to you, that smirk playing on his pink lips, his eyes drop to your thighs clenched tight, “keeps me calm knowing that I’ve got the best girl waiting on me.” “And… my, uh, panties do that?” He chuckles deeply, reaching over to grip your chin and bring you in for a firm sweet kiss, “you do that. Your panties are just in case I need to get off.”
Cruel!Andy: now I know what you’re thinking, how the fuck is the filthy daddy last? Well, let me tell you, although Andy loves having a little collection of your panties at home, he also really loves filling you up and forcing you to wear those messy panties the rest of the day. Especially if you’re going to see his son later, it’s just the perfect reminder that you’ll always belong to him: mind, body, soul and pussy. He usually texts you to check up after, From Daddy: Hey, sweetheart, I’m still waiting on that call, hope you didn’t clean yourself up without my permission.
#saikokirastuff<3#sonny’s 6k celebration#ask sonny#captains legacy: thots#captains legacy: idea#holy grail: thots#cruel: thots#little fears ask#what a world: thots#little fears drabble#cruel drabble#what a world drabble#captains legacy drabble#holy grail drabble
639 notes
·
View notes
Text
— 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. ✗
“choke me, spank me, look at me, thank me.”
— sypnosis: working as a maid in a new house is very exciting, you get the money and everything goes well. although, once you’re introduced to the son of the parents, everything goes down hill.
cw, warning: size kink (?), creep!ushi, pictures without consent, nipple play, gn!reader, non-con, somnophilia, sloppy sex, dry humping, praise, panty stealer ushi.
% wc: 2234.
↷ a/n: y’all have no idea how long this was sitting in my drafts, for fucking 5 weeks plsssss- anyways I hope you all enjoy! this was rlly fun to do. also! shoutout to daisy, this collab was really cool! congratulations on 1K bb. <//3
— @daisy-bakugo, PORNSCAPE EVENT! ilyy.
You were everything he wanted, everything he fantasized about.
[1,000.]
That’s how much they were paying.
It was enough to have you accept the job immediately. It was enough to have you choose between two of the slightly revealing maid dresses and enough for you to be standing in front of the wakatoshi mansion. Briefcase in hand with a bucket of supplies you were instructed to bring. Everything was just right, you were prepared to clean, everything would go well.
The frilly material of the skirt swayed around your thighs and glided against the softness of your thigh-highs. Glistening jewels of your gold bracelets glimmering in the hot sun shining down on your skin. The thin line of thread held up the damp clothes, shredding any of the excess water soaked into them. All of the Wakatoshi’s clothing were fancy. Gold lining stitched in the middle or at the end of the cloth, it was clear they were wealthy. But, it somehow amazed you when your eyes glided to the very end of the line — some shirts & shorts were childlike. Pictures of guns and cars were painted onto a black shirt, it looked like something a 5th grader would do. ‘Maybe they had a child?’ You didn’t know, you only met the parents. Folding up the dry ones, you’d stuff them into the cart and push them towards the other line of clothes swishing in the breezy wind.
You finished doing the daily chores, slipping into their kitchen that was designed well with a beautiful interior. Cold marble was felt up against your skin as you tipped the bottle of wine into your glass, clacking against it. Your glossy lips propped up against the cup and took small sips of the fruity flavor. It slid down your throat and surged a zing of bitterness back up to take in the taste, so sweet and yet so unpleasant at the same time. You’d lick the juice off your lips and place it down steadily on the counter, looking up to see a heady gaze sharped on you.
6’2 and steady build towering over you with dark olive hair — was the wakatoshi’s son. Ushijima Wakatoshi.
Your body stayed still, unmoving. He wasn’t anywhere near a 3rd grader - more like a full grown adult. Tongue peeking out from your teeth to lick the dryness seeping between the cracks, your eyelids hooded.
“Uh- Hello! You must the wakatoshi’s son, I’m the new maid.” Extending your hand out to meet his; his hand stayed at his side, not seeming to shift to engulf yours. You’d drop it back beside you and nipped at your lip when the silence between you both continued.
“Well, I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you.. Ushijima! Your parents told me about you.”
You’d excuse yourself away from his intimidating gaze and close the door behind you. Maybe it’s a good idea to introduce myself another time.
The same look from before followed you out of the kitchen, watching you as you’d take up the laundry basket. His eyes kept gawking at your every move. Staring with every bit of emotion nobody could decipher, Toshi wasn’t a very talkative man and it was visible. He situated himself in the shadows and looked from above, staying out of any scandals his parents were exposed to. He did keep his eye on you. Stepping out of his secure area and making every note to try and approach you without seeming like a creep. His creep intentions did creep up back into his system when you started staying at his house, sleeping in a guest room 8 feet away from his room. It was easy; so easy to sneak into it when the moon raised in the dead of night.
Soft thuds of his feet against the carpet thankfully didn’t alert anyone, giving him the time to steal peeps at your sleeping state. Comforter pulled up. Oversized shirt to cover up the intimate parts of your body he dearly wanted to explore. Soft breaths left your pink lips to breathe it in again, his cock stirring at the sound of it. Toshi knew what was right from wrong, he knew that doing something like this would cost his life — but, dear god you were everything he dreamed of. He couldn’t stop now.
His calloused hands raised the shirt for him to be able to see your tummy, sliding his fingers down to the waistband of your panties. They were so simple and adorned your skin beautifully, keeping the heat between your legs warm just for him. His free hand unzipped his jeans and let them pool at his ankles, such as his boxers. You stirred slightly at the foreign touch, brows creasing forward. He stilled until you relaxed back into slumber, his fingers separated your thighs, and slowly slid the oozing head of his cock between them.
“Ah, princess, f-fuuck.” breath ragged, eyes shut closed to take in the bliss. Contentment streamed through him, his hips rocking against you to feel more, more of you. He was greedy. Toshi was insatiable, he wanted everything of you. He didn’t just want — he needed you. It was a plea. A whine for you, a need. The selfishness ran through his family, that’s how he inherited it. From his family. Was he ashamed? No. Not when you felt so good right now, not when he was about to reach the orgasm he was climbing to.
Sweat fanned down his toned chest, abs glistening with droplets of precipitation. His hips rocked forward one last time, cum spurting from his head and between the soft flesh of your thighs. It was sticky and slimy, rolling down to cover every little spot.
The sight of you sleeping soundly while his cum leaked from between your thighs, made the flaccid touch of his cock stir. You were just so pretty, a pretty little something he wanted to scoop up for himself. And he would do it with no trouble whatsoever. His hand slid down to grab his phone from the floor, lying face down. Toshi aimed right in the frame, snapping a picture for later. He stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans and scurried away from your room, not bothering to clean up the mess of his dry cum smeared on you.
Pressing the ‘start’ button you watched the clothes in the machine swirl with bubbles of soap clouding over them. One hand on the machine and knocking it occasionally to make it turn on again. “Barely working.” You’d mutter.
Despite the Wakatoshi’s being filthy rich, their laundry room wasn’t at all cooperative. There were brown pieces of wood peeling off the wall with stains of what seemed to look like dry substance splattered on it. A bunch of plastic bags and socks were pushed to the corner of the room, dirty ones to be exact. Not much laid in the room other than the things you had listed — except for the posters of lewd manga hanging from the cluttered shelves.
The cool air of the basement door opening brushed up against you, your eyes drifting to see who it was. Standing there was Toshi. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. His expression was the same as always, stern and uninterested. You were both met with the silence from yesterday, uneasiness creeping up back to you.
Bothering not to talk, you turned back to the machine to see it at twenty-one minutes. It was almost done and you could leave to wrench away from the awkward silence you were sitting in. You could still feel his presence, you knew he was there and it was uncomfortable. So many questions were left unanswered in your head, you couldn’t understand them.
The back of your skirt was flipped up to meet your back, his clothed length pressed against you. He was hard. There was no doubt he wasn’t big, and that was what made your eye sockets almost swell out. He slowly rocked the fabric of your panties along with his bulge. Fingernails digging into your hip and pushing you up more to gain more access and spread your legs.
“Ushijima-“ words of confusion scrabbled out from your mouth quickly, “w-what are you doing?”
“Shh.” He jabbed the curve of your back and made you lay pressed against the cold exterior of the rattling washing machine. His words flustered you, it provoked you to stay quiet. You had never heard his voice before and a situation like this only shook your brain into a deeper hole of complication. “J-Just — let me do this, let me try it out. Once.”
And you did. You let him try it just once, you let him delude into the fantasy he had been dreaming of. You let him do it. Once.
You calmed down from the aftershock of his tongue sending you to see stars, arms jerking when the feeling of his hot touch pressing your face against the door of the machine. Your fingers tightening around the handle and pulling on it slightly, cheeks swelling up with heat. The sounds of your whimpers and tiny jolts sent him to push along more, arm encircling around your stomach, his voice breathy against the shell of your ear. You were like a succubus, a being he couldn’t leave nor escape, so alluring, sweet and he had just met you not too long ago.
The smack of his cock meeting his stomach caused you to crank your head back, looking over to see a beautiful sight. Ushijima’s cock was thick, curving gently upwards. The skin was a light shade of cream, and the head was large, pink, expanding tip. “Ushi-“ your voice was wavery, unsure paring with it.
He’d shush you again, angling your leg up as his lips pressed a kiss to your glistening cunt. Toshi took notice of your expressions when he slid into the warmth delves; brows creased together and little words scampering out from your lips. Latching onto the handle and pulling it ever so often when he hit a certain spot, whenever the tip of his cock caressed against your cervix- it was so beautiful seeing you be reduced to a quivering, blubbering mess. A surreal sight he would only see.
“You’re so damn tight. So wet, so willing.. just like that baby.” The pump of his hips made you lose yourself over and over again, a mixture of sounds that were all kinds of slobbery and slurred due to your dizziness. His pace picked up with renewed energy, slick and wet sounds fill the air, sweaty bodies clamping against each other. The whines and pants of his name being drowned out, so pathetic- clinging to the latch and crumbling under his touch. It drove him like a mad man, his brain clattering, the way you took him in with no problem amazed him, you were so inviting and supple.
“S’too b-big! Ushi- ah! -“
The whines of him being too big impaled itself into his brain, your shivering body and cunt wrapped around all together had already made him blank out, now with your pleas, it caused a switch in his head to flip and jack-hammer himself into you. Pump after pump. It made your eyelashes flutter with droplets of tears risking to stream down the fat of your cheeks. His hands holding you firmly, brows furrowed with grunts flowing into your right ear. A grunt rippled from him as his cock throbbed harshly inside you, the feeling making him come undone right there.
“Just like that, ah, fuck you make me feel so good.”
Wrinkled skirt falling to the floor, his cock pulling out of you slowly with globs of cum dribbling out of you, he’d shuffle around till you faced him fully now with a perplexed look on your face. The shirt becoming loose as Toshi’s lips wrapped around the sensitive nipple, suckling and easing any leftover moans out from your throat. His hands placing you on the machine and attaching his lips back onto your nipple, tongue flat against your sweaty skin.
“Fuck, U-Ushi! holy- fuck, just like that.” Your back straining as you leaned back, gasping and threading your fingers through his hair to balance. Toshi wasn’t one with words, his statue being quiet and still. But, words poured out from his lips at the sound of your moans, when you were so good for him.
“So, good.. pretty. pretty, like a beauty.” He pulled off of it with a squelch, standing up high and cupping your chin to stare in your love drunk eyes. “You were so good for me, yeah?”
You nodded, vision hazy and eyes occasionally blinking to peer up at him with a blurry image. Your head rested in the crook of his neck, sniffling as he picked up the soiled panties from the floor and stuffed them into his back pocket. They were red and pink, swirly designs on them, he found them so cute. He slid your legs around him and walked out of the room, leaving the washing machine to rattle in the background with soap and water overflowing onto the ground.
Ushijima just couldn’t leave you after that day, he stuck to you like glue. Who could blame him? You were everything he wanted, everything he had fantasized about.
#ushijima x reader#ushijima smut#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu!! smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#pornscape collab!!👒#cw noncon#cw somnophilia#cw size kink
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
To Be Free - Finn Shelby Imagine
I AM BACK! And I’m back with a long waited request -it was requested at January????- so here it is, and I’m really sorry for making you wait for it. I combined the two requests together. I hope you’ll enjoy! And feel free to ask/say anything to me!
Request: @beth-winchester21 Please can I request a finn shelby x reader where I'm esmes younger sister and the shelbys treat me like family and I get really excited for Christmas and everyone finds it hilarious and I end up getting drunk and finn looks after me thanks xx
@beth-winchester21 Hi please can I request a finn shelby x reader where I'm his girlfriend and esmes younger sister and I've known him and his family since I was 3 and they treat me like family and they find out my parents abuse me and make me give them my money and work for them and the shelbys save me from them and can I have a cute moment with finn please thanks x
WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, buying someone from their family, mentions of physical abuse, drunkness.
WORDS COUNT: 1346
You have been working your ass of because of your parents, they have always treated you as if you were their worker- or slave. Carrying all the wood although your brother always sat at the corner, drinking, and playing card games with his stupid asshole friends. His friends were always mean to you, well “mean” didn’t describe it very well, they were harassing you all the time. Cornering you, pulling your skirt in front of everyone. Your family didn’t care that much, they only cared about your brother because he was a male. Esme was your only escape, and after her marriage John became your haven too.
The Shelby’s were like a family to you. Finn and you were always hanging out, annoying his brothers by the Garrison’s. Eavesdropping their deals, sneaking booze out of the bar, stealing Arthur’s hats and razors. They never once treated you like a stranger, you were like their sister. And that connection became stronger after the marriage between Esme and John.
Finn figured out your situation after you became his girlfriend. He saw how the other boys treated you- how your family did. One night, your father beat you so bad that he broke your arm, gave you a purple eye and almost broke your ribs too. Finn found you fainted at your tent, grabbed you and carried you to John and Esme’s house. Esme was freaking out, cussing every bad word out, throwing shit at the wall while John tried to calm her down. Things were about to turn sideways for your family, you could feel it, but you were too sedated to care at that moment. Polly brought a doctor to help you, the whole Shelby clan was at your side talking about what they were going to do. They couldn’t start another war with your family, that’s why John and Esme became married at the first place.
“I know what to do.” said Finn, still looking extremely mad. His eyes were all dark and dangerous, his eyebrows were still frowned. You could see how stressful he exhaled because of his nostril; they became large with every breath. “What?” Tommy sound angrier, eyeing the doctor time to time. “We will pay for her. That’s the only language they understand. So, we’ll make a deal.”
“Oh, nice.” you mouthed, still dazed. “Another way to show my family how I am their slave.” your words were slurred, but they still understood you. Finn looked at you concerned. “I know how you feel, Y/N. But this is the only way we can save you.” you tried to silk your shoulders, but you remembered your arm was broken. “I know but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m their slave.” Tommy wasn’t listening to you anymore; he took Arthur and John with him and went to your parents. You were worried sick about to possible outcome of this deal because your parents were dangerous. But you let your eyes rest, you couldn’t deal with the pain anymore. So, you fell asleep.
-
“Y/N, please bring us that bottle of whiskey I put aside.”
Tommy requested with a soft tone; he had a business meeting at the bar. After “buying” you out from your abusive parents, Tommy decided it would be better for you to work for yourself and yourself only. He let you earn decent money, enough to get yourself a new place to stay. The guys didn’t want you to move out, but they knew eventually you had to. After working, you had to get back to Tommy’s because it was around Christmas and you and your new family were about to get together. You were unbearably excited, head to toe, feeling numb in your fingers. You’d never celebrated Christmas before, let alone a dinner party with your family. Hell, if there were a party, you would be the one who do all the work around.
You and Finn were sitting near the Christmas tree, drinking your whiskey while chatting. His fingers were brushing through your now better arm, caressing the bandage. “Does it still hurt?” you silk your shoulders “Not anymore.” you smile, gave him a kiss on the cheek and put your head on his shoulder. You were watching them, arguing passionately about something. Polly and Ada were somewhere else at the house, Polly probably was reading the tea leaves of Ada.
You were excited about that night because it was the first decent dinner with anyone. You wanted to look good, so you dressed up- more than them. They have been mocking you all night long, especially Arthur. He kept commenting on your newly bought pearls, the kind gift of Tommy. You were like a mad cow, you accept that, bothered everyone all day long about what to wear or what to do. But in the end, you were full of happiness thanks to your new family.
“I am going to get myself a new glass.” you told Finn and stood up from the couch. You were a little bit dizzy, well it was a really strong whiskey so that was not a surprise for you. You wanted to get over your excitement so, you’d like a new glass.
While you were walking back to your spot, Arthur grabbed you by your waist and held you high. “Holy shit Arthur!” you screamed, some of it because of the pain you had in your ribs. You held his shoulders in the purpose of not falling, but your glass had already fallen. “Y/N’s first official dinner with us as our family!” he shouted, turning you around up by the air. You were feeling nauseous, you were about to throw up. “Fuck, Arthur, stop!” he didn’t listen to you, kept you up there. And then, the inevitable happened.
You threw up, while still up in the air, made a whole mess around the carpet and unfortunately, some of it got to his suit too. All his brothers started to laugh, mostly at Arthur. “Fuck Y/N!” he let you down, took off his jacket and put it aside. Tommy called over his maid, although he looked slightly amused, he didn’t want to make it obvious. His carpet was a mess.
Esme was still laughing like crazy and held your hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up, pukey.” you nodded in response. She helped you clean your mouth, sprayed the perfume, and slightly squeezed your cheeks to give you a little color. “How are you feeling, love?” she sounded concerned, which was a rare thing because she never showed her worrying side to you before. You smiled and hugged her; you loved your big sister more than anything in the world. “I’m happy.”
“About puking?”
You giggled, squeezed her more with your arms. “No, about today. About this. I feel free.” she kissed your cheek and smiled back at you. “You are free, love. And you got Finn.” she winked and let you out of the bathroom. Finn was waiting you there, looking a little bit disturbed. “Are you alright, Y/N? You look pale? Did Arthur hurt your arm or something?” you let him to hug you, to kiss you. “I’m fine, Jesus. I just had too much to drink.” you kissed him back, walked with him outside to the garden. You two were sitting at the bench, holding each other closely. “You know Finn, you don’t have to worry about me all the time.”
“I will worry about you darling, because I love you.”
You raised your head, looked at him surprised. Yes, you two loved each other but you’d never said it out loud before. The three words made you warm all inside, a huge smile creeped all over your face. You were young, little kids even, but you always had that feeling with him. Even when you guys were little, you knew Finn was the one. Finn was the one who cared about you the most, and you cared about him the most. So, you let yourself say those three words back to him.
“I love you too. More than anyone.”
#finn shelby x y/n#finn shelby x reader#finn shelby imagine#Peaky Blinders#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#finn shelby fanfiction#finn shelby one shot#request#requests#john shelby#esme shelby#Arthur Shelby#thomas shelby
164 notes
·
View notes
Text
removing the dagger
hi yes it's me, yes i know i haven't updated my masterlist in ages, yes i am aware i have an unfinished wip that i promised to post months ago, i'm just a stupid fanfic writer begging her audience to love her!!!! anyway!!! i have two other things in the works that I'm hoping to finish, but in the mean time this is one shot i based on ivy and tolerate it from taylor swift's album evermore. i hope you like it, i missed y'all!!! send me asks pls i'm lonely
pairing: tommy x reader
masterlist
questions, comments, concerns
“We’ll be entertaining guests this weekend.”
You looked up from your breakfast plate in shock, wondering if your husband was addressing you or someone else. You gave the room a quick scan. No, it was indeed just you. “Alright.” You said hesitantly, “Who will be attending?”
He hadn’t looked up at you from his newspaper at the other end of the table. He felt miles away rather than a meter or two. “Just some business partners and their wives.” He finally looks up. You’re so unused to his direct attention you have to stop yourself from flinching away from his gaze, “You should go into town. Buy yourself a new dress.” Just as quickly as his gaze had met yours, he drops it again.
You draw your attention back to your breakfast plate, spreading butter on a scone before biting into it. “Do you need anything while I’m out, dear?”
“No thank you, love.”
The endearments don’t mean anything, this you know. It’s a formality. You’re husband and wife, and you speak to each other that way, but the words are empty. The truth is, day in and day out you watch him, you know all his routines. You hand him items before he can reach for them. Buy the book you know he’d been wanting for ages, but never got around to go to the store for. Refill the liquor cabinet before he can get to the bottom of a vodka bottle. And still. And still, he doesn’t see you. Not really. You leave the breakfast table to get ready to go into town and you know he won’t notice you’ve left until the maid clears your plate.
***
Another evening filled with pleasantries, pretty gowns, fake smiles. Men complimenting you and informing your husband how lucky he is to have such a beautiful, young wife. Your husband simply thanks them and doesn’t even look your way.
It’s not until he walks into the room that you feel you’ve been startled from sleep. He looks the same as you remember. There may be a few more lines around his eyes and mouth, but otherwise the same. Except now he looks like a walking weapon. That’s what the war had turned him into. You had kept tabs on him once you found out he had made it home from France, alive. The things you heard, the things this man that you used to love so dearly had done, well you suppose it didn’t surprise you. Tommy had always been too clever for his own good, almost too resilient. It made sense that France would have chewed him up and spit him out, kept most of the love and kindness he possessed.
But then his eyes find yours through the crowd and when he locks on you the same love and desire that had always been there, burns there now. No, the war couldn’t burn out his love for you. Your abandonment and consequential marriage that he read about in the paper couldn’t burn it out either. He’d love you until his dying day. And then he’s in front of you and words fail you, “Thomas,” You finally manage, “You… look well.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “It’s good to see you.” And he ever so gently lifts your hand and presses his lips to your skin. A chill runs through you and it takes all your effort not to snatch your hand away. His knowing grin tells you he’s noted his effect on you.
“And who are you?” Your husband interjects, noticing the affront that was greeting you before himself.
“Thomas, this is my husband, Benjamin.”
Tommy looks your husband up and down for longer than is polite before reaching his hand out to meet your husband’s, “A pleasure.” He murmurs.
“How do you know my wife, mister…”
“Shelby.” Tommy fills in for him, and then glances at you, “Your wife and I were--”
“Childhood friends.” You interject before he can finish and force a smile.
Tommy stares at you for a prolonged second before turning back to your husband, “Yes. Childhood friends.”
“Oh, wonderful!” Benjamin exclaimed, “You grew up in Oxford then, yeah?”
The confusion is evident on Tommy’s face so you jump in quickly, “Yeah! Both grew up in Oxford, isn’t that right, Tommy?”
Tommy looks annoyed at having to lie, but nods anyway, “That’s right.” He speaks with Benjamin for a few moments about business and you find yourself staring at him, the freckles on his cheeks you used to kiss so tenderly. His hair that you used to run fingers through. His eyelashes that used to tickle your skin when he fell asleep. His voice that used to whisper adorations in your ear while other women looked on with jealousy.
“I hope you won’t mind if I steal your wife for a dance, sir, I’d love to catch up with her for a moment.”
Benjamin gave him a disarming smile, a smile you hadn’t seen since he had courted you and it made your heart ache. He lifted his glass to Tommy, “She’s all yours.”
You managed a small smile as Tommy took your hand and led you to the center of the room. You could feel tears burning the back of your eyes at the familiarity of his touch. No one had touched you like this, well, since Tommy left Small Heath.
“Oxford, eh?” Tommy started, “What else did you have to lie about to become such an esteemed lady?”
You frowned, “I did what I had to do. It appears you did the same.”
He shakes his head, “I never lied about where I came from out of shame to achieve the lifestyle I wanted.” His voice is bitter, and you won’t lie, it stings coming from the only person who had made you feel like you were worth something.
“I’m not ashamed of Small Heath.”
“Everything about who you’ve married, to what you’re wearing, to the house you live in, to the lies about me suggest otherwise.”
“I didn’t lie about you because I was ashamed, Benjamin gets… jealous. It was just easier not to explain.”
“Does Benjamin have reason to be jealous?”
You looked into those blue eyes you had adored so long ago and saw the same longing and lust sitting there. Your lips part and you pause, trying to find the right words to convey that you were sorry for how things ended. That you wished things could have been different. But he senses your hesitation and his eyes go cold, those familiar walls that you had worked for years to tear down are back up in full force. You suppose it’s what you deserve.
“Forget it. Stupid question.”
“Tommy--”
“No, don’t. You’re obviously very happy here.”
And you realized as he said it that he was so incredibly wrong about that, “I’m not.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your eyes begin to water before you can stop them, “I’ve never been more unhappy in my life.”
Concern floods Tommy features, “Is he hurting you?”
You almost laugh, “No, no he’s never raised a hand to me. He’s never even raised his voice to me. He just… rarely remembers that I exist is all.”
“Well he’s an idiot then.” The corner of your mouth turned up just a bit at his crassness. “Can’t imagine having you walk around this house day in and day out looking like that and not giving you the attention you deserve.”
You have to bite down hard on your lip to keep the tears lodged in your throat at bay, “Do you have a smoke?”
He frowns, “I can’t imagine Benjamin allows a lady like you to smoke.”
“Tommy, please, he won’t even know we’re gone.” Sure enough, when you look over he’s immersed in conversation, “Come outside with me.” You tug on his arm before he can respond, weaving through guests who didn’t give you a second glance.
Once outside, you gulp in the cold air and lean against the stone wall behind you. Tommy joins a few seconds later, “Are you alright?” He asks as he reaches into his pocket and takes out his cigarettes.
“Can you tell me about Birmingham? What’s it like now?”
While you smoked, he talked about his family and the business. How Polly was doing, and Finn who you could still remember being born. Arthur and his anger problems. John and his relentless jokes. And when your cigarette was nothing more than a useless stub, you noticed there were silent tears rolling down your cheeks.
Tommy glanced at you and then dropped his own cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe, “Why are you here if it makes you so sad?”
The reason you had married Benjamin was because you had promised yourself you would never have to go hungry again. You would never have to worry about someone breaking in and slitting your throat for a loaf of bread. You wouldn’t have to stare at dresses in shops anymore knowing you would never have enough money for it. You never wanted any children you bore to feel that pain either. So you had done what you thought was needed to obtain this lifestyle and now that you were here, it didn’t feel the way you expected it to.
You can’t answer him and instead you look up at the sky and snow starts to fall on your face. “It’s snowing.” You announce to Tommy. He says nothing and you get the feeling he’s annoyed with you. “We had our first kiss in the snow. Do you remember?”
He scoffs and pushes himself off the wall, “I’m not playing your games tonight, I shouldn’t have come here.”
“And why did you come here?” You call after him as he walks away, “Why the fuck did you come, eh? To rub it in my face that I made the wrong decision?”
He turns back to you and he has that cocky smirk on his face, “Listen to that Birmingham accent. Does your husband know his lady’s got such a dirty mouth?”
You don’t know why this is the remark that does it, but you take a sharp intake of breath and your lungs shudder with sobs as the tears pour down your cheeks. The smirk falls from Tommy’s face and he reaches for you, but you pull away. “Love, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
“Darling?” Your husband stands in the doorway and both you and Tommy freeze, “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death out there in the cold.”
You close your eyes for a moment, schooling your features before you respond, “I’ll be just a minute dear, Mr. Shelby was just leaving. I was seeing him off.” Every trace of the tears was gone from your voice. Tommy would be impressed if it didn’t mean that you had clearly needed to practice seeming happy and upbeat when you were breaking inside.
It’s so easy how quickly he loses interest, Benjamin, and turns back to go inside without another glance. “Why did you come here?” You ask Tommy again.
He sighs, “I had hoped that seeing you happy would give me the closure I needed. Unfortunately, seeing you choose misery over me has only made me feel worse.” He says bitterly. Your face crumples and he steps away from you, “Goodnight, my love.”
When he’s gone you wish to scream and cry and you hate him for coming here and shattering the glass walls you had built around yourself to tell you that you were fine. You were fine with your finery and your loneliness and the gin you drink when Benjamin isn’t home. How he ignores the smell of it on your breath. His deliberate silence when you know he can feel your cries shake the bed at night. You thought you had packed Tommy Shelby neatly away in the far corner of your mind where you wouldn’t find him again. Wouldn’t remember what it was like to feel loved. To feel alive. But you remember. And now he’s gone again. Just like when he left for France. Just like when you wrote that final letter to him that you were to be married.
And so you walk back into that house of stone. You murmur to Benjamin that you’re tired and you’ll be retiring early. And he just nods, barely hearing you, like he always does. And you settle into bed and stare at the wall as the house goes quiet. And finally the bed shifts with his weight and his breathing settles and he doesn’t reach for you. He never does.
Goodnight, my love.
***
The mud of the road squelches beneath your shoes and you're conscious of the way everyone in Small Heath stares at you, walking around like this, but you’d had no choice. No trace of your old wardrobe before you married Benjamin existed. He hadn’t allowed it. You didn’t want any reminders, anyway. Besides which, you had told Benjamin you were out for lunch with a friend and had dressed appropriately. When you swing open the door to the Garrison, you don’t see any Shelbys, but everyone stares at you nonetheless. You imagine word will travel fast to Tommy that you’re here.
Sure enough, as you finished your first drink, you heard the doors swing open and a hush fell over the occupants of the bar. You didn’t look up when he sat next to you. “What are you doing in my bar?” He said, his voice was demanding and cold.
“Having a drink.” You said as the bartender slid you another.
Tommy took it from your hand and dumped it on the floor, “Don’t give her another one.” He said to the bartender. “I asked you what the hell you’re doing here, don’t try my patience.”
“I was drinking that.” You said through clenched teeth.
“You’re drunk, you’ve obviously been drinking all day, surely Benjamin darling noticed that before he let you leave the house, eh?”
You turned to him, eyes bloodshot and unfocused, “I came here… Because you never told me… If you remembered our first kiss.”
He stares at you for a few moments, “You came all the way to Small Heath to ask me if I remember our first kiss?”
You blink, “Why are you just repeating what I just told you?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Yes, I remember it. Now will you go home?”
“I am home.”
“This isn’t your home anymore, you made sure of that.”
“How is what I did any fucking different from what you did? I married him to fuckin’ survive. That’s it. And you would’ve done the same in my place.” While you were talking you kept trying to get the bartender’s attention, but he was purposely ignoring you now, “Will you please tell your bartender to get me a drink?”
He leans in close to your ear and you still, “You could have married me. I could have given you everything if you had just waited.”
You turn your head to look at him and your lips are just inches from his, “I didn’t think you would come back, Tommy. So many men were dying every day, I didn’t think you would come back and I was running out of time to find someone else to marry. I’m sorry.” You don’t know if it’s the alcohol that makes you brave, but you lean into him just a little bit and he doesn’t move away. So you close the distance between you.
The kiss is quick, and you pull away to gage his reaction. But his eyes only dart from yours back down to your mouth before his fingers graze your chin and gently pull you to him again. You can’t believe how alive it makes you feel to be kissed, really kissed, by someone who wants you.
“You’re drunk.” Tommy says finally, pulling away.
“So what?”
“So you wouldn’t be cheating on your husband if you weren’t drunk.”
You snort, “I would do just about anything to feel the way you made me feel again.”
He shakes his head at you, “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. So, what? You’re just going to have an affair with me and I’m supposed to be satisfied with that?”
“What do you suppose we do instead?”
“Leave him and marry me.”
He’s so sincere, and for a moment you allow yourself to think that you could. “You know I can’t do that.” You say quietly.
He nods and lowers his head, “Then I’m not sure how I can help you, Mrs. Davies.”
His use of your married name feels like a blow, “I know you feel the same as I do when we kiss, isn’t it worth it just for that?”
“I don’t do well with sharing.” He practically snarled in your face.
“I’m his in name alone. You own me, body, soul, and spirit, Tommy. You always have.”
Suddenly, he straightens as if he’s just now realized where he is. “Come with me.” He says quickly, sharply. You practically run after him and when you get outside, you see his horse. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”
“Where are you taking me?”
He rolls his eyes, “Can you ever just listen to me for once?” And without asking permission, lifted you up by your waist enough to get you on the saddle. When he comes up after you, you hesitate before wrapping your arms around his waist to keep yourself steady. It reminds you so vividly of just a few years earlier, you allow yourself to sink into the memories. It doesn’t take you long to realize he’s taking you to your old haunt. An abandoned house in the middle of the woods, overgrown with ivy.
“Why are we here?” As he helps you down from the horse, your faces nearly collide as your feet touch the ground. He seems to want to kiss you, but holds back.
“I waited here for you for days when I got back.” He says, walking away from you and towards the house. “When you stopped sending me letters, I had a feeling you had changed your mind, but I still hoped.”
You blink, “You never got my letter?”
He turns back to you, now leaning against a half demolished wall, “Did you send me a letter to tell me you were marrying that wanker? I honestly thought it was kinder that you hadn’t.”
You swallowed, “Yes, I sent you a letter.”
“And what did it say?”
You sigh, suddenly you’re frustrated with him, “That was years ago, Tommy, can’t we move on?”
He laughs, but it’s cold, “For you it was years ago, I’ve been living in this hell you left me in ever since. I didn’t get to move on to palaces and dinner parties and expensive champagne. I came back here and started another war, all in the hopes that one day I could provide for you and you would come home. And all the while you’ve been sleeping in another man’s bed.”
You look down at your feet. You understand the anger and the resentment he holds. After all, you knew when you sent that letter if he survived the war he would never forgive you. But here he was, some sort of dark, fallen angel, standing in front of you. Spreading over you again like ivy, the same way he had when you were younger. “I know I can’t take back the pain I’ve caused,” He was already scoffing and turning away from you, “But I’m here now. And so are you. And all I know is that being with you again makes me feel something and I haven’t felt anything since I sent out that letter.”
“So just like that, you think everything’s fixed?” He storms up to you, trapping you against the wall behind you. “You think you can just pop back in, say you’re sorry, and everything’s all better?”
You roll your eyes, unimpressed with his display of anger, “Of course not, Tommy, I’m not stupid.” You reach your hand out and delicately trail your fingers down his chest, “I just think… That it’d be a shame to deny each other what we both want.”
Without warning his hand clamps around your wrist and slams it against the wall behind you. It doesn’t hurt, really, but he did catch you off guard so you wince anyway.
He leaned forward until his lips brushed your ear, “Who said you could touch me without explicit permission?”
A chill went down your spine at the sound of his voice and you find yourself smirking, “Don’t need permission to touch what belongs to me.” You still know exactly what to say to piss him off.
He shoves you against the wall again, “You think this is fuckin’ funny, eh?” He leans down to look you eye to eye, “Am I laughing?” He pushes himself off the wall and turns away from you, “Always a fuckin’ joke to you.”
“Tommy, I thought… I’m sorry, I thought we were teasing--”
He rounds on you, “I don’t fuckin’ joke when it comes to you, do you understand? None of this is funny to me. It may be all a big joke to you with your fancy house and your upper class husband, but I lost the one thing in my life that had value and I don’t think it’s fuckin’ funny for you to shit all over the marriage that you thought was good enough to abandon me for in the first place!”
It’s all so absurd you nearly snort, “Do you think this is fun for me? Do you think I like living with the knowledge that I gave up the love of my life for someone who is rarely home, and when he is home doesn’t even spare me a second glance? My husband hasn’t kissed me in six months.”
“And so now you think you can have both?”
Tears shine in your eyes as you gaze up at him, “Can’t I?”
You can see the internal battle going on behind his eyes, caught between wanting you and not being able to truly have you. You knew he would give in to you, though, and maybe you felt a little guilty about that but you couldn’t afford to let your mind go there. You just needed someone to touch you, someone to really, truly desire you.
And Tommy gave in. He pushed you against the wall again, his mouth finding your mouth in a lust-filled frenzy. You moan in equal parts surprise and delight as his hands roam your body, pulling you up until your legs wrap around his waist, back firmly pressed to the wall.
You might pay for this sinful offense against your marriage one day, but today you will simply relish the way Tommy tastes.
***
“You’re quiet this morning.” Benjamin notes a week later during breakfast. “Actually, now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I heard you say a word. Is everything alright, darling?”
You look up from your plate where you had been pushing your egg around aimlessly and force a smile, “Everything is perfect, darling, why shouldn’t it be?”
He watches you closely for a moment, miles away on the opposite end of the dining table. You don’t believe he’s watched you like this since courting you. Then, in a flash, the moment is broken and he returns to his paper, “We should have dinner, just you and I. I have that business trip coming up and I’d like to spend some time with you before I go.”
You try not to narrow your eyes too deliberately at him. A proper lady never thinks too hard about her husband’s motives, she just acts delighted to be considered. But this was unlike him and you would find out why. “That would be lovely, dear.”
***
Your arm rests delicately on Benjamin’s as he takes you inside the restaurant he had made reservations in. He was going on and on about the lobster and how you should get one too and what drink to pair it with and it was all so fucking boring your eyelids grew heavy with sleep. You hadn’t seen Tommy since that day at the abandoned house.
Afterwards, he had taken you on the horse until you were a mile away from the house and insisted on being dropped there.
“I can take you further, he won’t see me.”
“It’s alright, Tommy. I like the walk.”
He had hopped off his horse with you and cradled your face in his hands, kissing you goodbye, “I’m still upset with you.” He said and kissed you again, harder. He bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to make you yelp, “This doesn’t change anything.”
But it changed everything, hadn’t it? For you, at least. You understood Tommy’s anger and resistance though. Maybe this would be the only taste of him he’d ever allow you again while you rotted away in that mansion of stone. “I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage, your foreheads still pressed together, before lightly pushing yourself off him and walking down the road without looking back.
Eventually, you heard his horse walk away and you did your best not to cry.
“Darling?” Benjamin’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. The two of you now sit at a small table in the corner. You’re buttering a roll absently, you couldn’t remember picking up the bread. “Darling, are you alright? I’ve been asking you to pass the butter.”
“Yes,” You said, reaching across the table with the butter dish in hand, “I’m sorry, my mind ran away from me.”
“And what were you thinking about?” He asks, taking the butter from you.
You blink, shocked that he would ask you such a thing, “Sorry?”
“What’s got your mind so occupied that I can’t seem to keep your attention?” He smiles when he says it and you realize he’s… teasing you.
“Oh, it’s nothing darling, I was just thinking about a dress I wanted to buy. I’m sorry that I wasn’t listening to you.”
He sighs greatly and for a moment you’re scared. Somehow he knows. He must know, otherwise-- “I realize that I haven’t been the best husband as of late. I don’t know what you spend your days doing, what you like, what you don’t like. I don’t kiss you in the morning or the evening when I come home from work--”
You’re shaking your head, “Benjamin--”
“You’ve been the perfect wife. Taking care of the house and entertaining guests, going out to the shop when I need something even if I haven’t asked. And I’ve ignored you. Aren’t you angry with me?”
Your eyes water and you sit back in your chair, looking down at your lap. Taking a breath you look back up at him, “You’re my husband.” You shrug, “I do what I must even if I don’t get anything in return.”
He hesitantly covers your hand with his own, “I’ll be better. I promise.” He sits back, “That friend that you went to lunch with the other day, what was her name?”
The fear returns all over again as you lightly dab at your eyes, “Martha, she’s a friend from Oxford.” The lie comes easily, too easily.
“Is she married?” Before you can answer, his eyes light up, “Oh! She must be that gentleman’s wife, the one who was at the party last week. Shelby, I believe his name was.”
Slowly, you nod, “Yes, that’s right. Martha’s husband is Thomas.”
“You should invite them for dinner, after my trip!”
Oh, fuck. “Oh, Benjamin, that’s so sweet of you dear, but you don’t have to--”
“I do.” He covers his hand with yours again, “I want to learn more about you. Your friends. What better way to do that than get to know the people you grew up with?”
You force a smile, “That sounds lovely.”
He smiles back, “It’s settled then! You iron out the details while I’m away and then just let me know which evening, alright, dear?”
“Of course.” You say, still forcing that smile. How the fuck were you going to get out of this one?
***
“Are you out of your mind?” You had summoned Tommy yet again by drinking at the Garrison and he had stormed in here ready to toss you over his shoulder and kick you out himself. But you had managed to get him to share a drink with you and you told him your new predicament.
“Well, yes, but that’s hardly the point.” He looks so annoyed with you, you almost laugh, “Please, Tommy. I’ll never bother you again.”
He snorts, “Yeah, that’ll be the day.” He knocks back the rest of his whiskey and then pushes the glass to the bartender, signaling for another, “This is really what you want?”
You bite your lip, “He seems sincere. Like he really wants to try.”
“But do you love him? Do you love him the way you love me?”
No. There would never be a love for you like Tommy. You look down at your hands. Either way you answer, Tommy will be hurt. But at least this way he could go on thinking that you’re happy. That you don’t need him. Maybe this way he’d fall in love with somebody else. The thought sent daggers through your heart, but you knew you had no one to blame for that but yourself. He should be happy, he deserved that. “Yes.” You lied.
His eyes shuttered and he looked away from you, “Alright. I’ll help you, then.”
You sigh in relief, “Thank you.”
“Now get the hell out of my bar.”
You manage a small smile and nod, sneaking out without another word.
***
The door buzzed and you nearly smiled, “That’ll be the guests, darling.” You moved behind Benjamin, squeezing his shoulder as you passed, “I’ll get it.”
When you opened the door and saw Tommy standing there with a tall, beautiful woman, you couldn’t deny the hurt that rushed through you. You had asked him to bring someone, you reminded yourself, you had told him he needed to bring a fake wife.
You step aside to let them through, ��It’s good to see you, Tommy. Martha. Come in.”
“Your home is so lovely,” The woman said. You weren’t sure if you just felt like she was staring daggers at you or if she was. How much did this woman know of you and Tommy? Just from the way she looked at Tommy, you could tell she had feelings for him. He had probably fucked her at some point. You ignore the painful tightening of your stomach at the thought. Tommy, for his part, seemed bored by her.
“Thank you.” You gestured for the maid to take their coats and you couldn’t help the way your breath caught as Tommy took his off. Then his hat. And his gloves. Those hands and those rings and-- You looked from his left hand to hers. They were wearing wedding rings. You supposed it shouldn’t have surprised you, they were supposed to be married. But the sight painfully stole all the breath from your lungs. You wondered if this was how Tommy felt when he saw you. You turned away from it and guided them into the drawing room, immediately going to get a drink while Benjamin bored them with talk of business.
You didn’t expect for it to hurt so much, seeing him with someone else. Even if they were just fucking, you felt like you couldn’t breathe as you stumbled into the kitchen. The kitchen staff ignored you as you braced your hands on a table, looking down at it and trying to catch your breath. They were used to you having breakdowns here. The staff liked you because you treated them like people when Benjamin wasn’t around. When he was on his trips, you’d invite them all to eat with you in the dining room and they were some of the most fun dinners you’d had since marrying Benjamin. So they let you cry in here and didn’t speak a word of it.
When the kitchen doors open abruptly, you stand immediately, expecting Benjamin, but it’s Tommy who stands there instead. “What are you doing back here?” You asked with annoyance.
“Why are you crying?” He asks, and you hate the concern that floods his face.
“You shouldn’t be back here, Benjamin might come looking for me--”
“I told him I would go look for you, he seems quite charmed by Lizzie, he won’t come looking.”
“So her name’s Lizzie then? She’s lovely.”
He’s quiet a moment, “So you’re sulking in here because I brought another woman here, something you asked me to do.”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“We should go back out there,” You begin to walk around him, but his hand clasps on your upper arm and pulls you back.
“Does it hurt? Knowing I’m fucking someone else?” He whispers in your ear.
Tears sting your eyes and you realize he’s done this on purpose. He wanted to hurt you. You look up into those ice blue eyes to show him yours that are shining with tears, “Are you happy now?” You wrenched your arm from his grasp and left the kitchen, putting on a smiling face as you left.
Tommy watches you closely for most of the evening and you think that normally Benjamin might notice his predatory gaze, but Tommy was right. He’s enamored by Lizzie. They share touches and longing glances, even when you place your arm on top of Benjamin’s to signal that he’s yours. He just pats your hand and draws his arm out from under yours all without looking away from Lizzie. So when Tommy excuses himself for a smoke, you follow him out, not even bothering to excuse yourself.
“Ol’ Benjamin is really giving it his best shot with you, eh?” Tommy says immediately when you walk outside. You don’t say anything, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your anger. “Can’t say I blame him,” He continues, “Lizzie’s a great fuck.”
You close your eyes, “I know what you’re doing.”
“And what am I doing, love?” He makes the endearment sound condescending and you hate him for that.
“You’re trying to get me angry so I’ll admit that I lied to you about loving Benjamin.”
“I saw the way you looked at the wedding rings when I took off my gloves,” He inhales on the cigarette in his hand, “I don’t need you to say it.”
“Then what, you’re just rubbing it in because you’re a sadistic fuck?”
“So you are angry, then.”
“Yes!” You threw up your hands in exasperation, “Yes, I’m fucking angry that I thought maybe Benjamin did love me only to see him touch and look at that woman in there more than he’s touched me in over a year! And I’m fucking angry that you are also fucking her! I’m jealous, I’m fucking burning with how jealous I am that she gets to touch you and I don’t! Is that what you want to hear, you fucking prick?!”
God help you, he has a cool smile on his lips, “Yes, sweetheart. That’s what I wanted to hear. Would you like to go make your husband terribly jealous?” He reaches a hand out to you.
You’re frowning at him and you shake your head, “I don’t understand.”
“Sure you do, I’m helping you get what you want.”
“But why?”
He lowers his hand, “Do you want the truth or the lie?”
You swallow, “Truth.”
He brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek, “Are you sure? It’ll break your heart.” He says softly.
You smile sadly and bring his hand to your chest, right above your heart. Your eyes glitter with unshed tears as you look at him, “Already broken.”
You almost miss his sharp intake of breath at your admission. You suppose he’s happy, happy that you were in so much pain after shattering his heart. “So?” You say.
“The truth is that,” He swallows, “The only thing that hurts me more than you not being mine is seeing you so fuckin’ sad. So let me help you.” You look up at him with those big sad eyes that practically scream at him how much you love him. He can’t stand to look another second, “Come on.” He offers you his hand again.
You place your small hand in his and he brings you back inside, not even dropping your hand as you pass your husband and Lizzie who are looking even cozier than when you left. He brings you to the drawing room in view of the dining room and finally drops your hand to go to the gramophone.
You feel Benjamin’s eyes on your back, but you don’t turn, focusing on Tommy.
A smile breaks out on his face, “I knew you’d have it.”
He holds up a record that the two of you used to listen to so often, you had had to replace the record a couple years back. A small smile forms on your lips, “Tommy, are you sure?”
When the two of you were together, you had taken a dance class together, mostly as a joke, but then you surprised yourselves when you had so much fun with it. Soon, you were choreographing dances together and Tommy was spinning you around that abandoned house. It seemed lifetimes ago and you couldn’t believe that the man who went to France and came back ready to kill any man standing in his way would still know or want to dance with you like when you were barely adults. But he’s beaming at you now, hand extended and the song is starting.
Biting your lip to hide your smile, you curtsy to him before taking his hand and he did a slight bow in response. And then he’s whisking you around the room. You can tell he hasn’t done this in a while and neither had you, but as the song picks up you lock eyes with him. You hadn’t seen him this happy since before the war. The sight sends such a thrill through you, you laugh, and suddenly you’re both in sync.
The weight of both Benjamin’s and Lizzie’s stares nearly break you, “It’s just me and you,” Tommy whispers, noticing how the light had dimmed from you just a little, “Focus on me.” And you do, losing yourself in the music and Tommy’s touch. Tommy dips you, your head falling back and upside down, you can see Benjamin and Lizzie, their eyes on you just like you thought. Tommy pulls you back up and you nearly crash into his chest as the song ends. He clutches your hand to him and your foreheads nearly touch as you both breathe hard.
There’s footsteps behind you and you turn to look to Benjamin, a smile still on your face, and his hand collides with your cheek. There’s only silence for a few seconds and it takes you all of those seconds to realize that Benjamin has hit you and before you’ve reached that conclusion, Tommy’s fist is already connecting with Benjamin’s jaw.
“Stop, stop.” You reach for Tommy to pull him off your husband, “Tommy, that’s enough!”
He had only punched Benjamin twice before you were able to pull him off and then he’s looking at you, “Are you alright?” There’s such concern in his eyes, he even brings his hands up to your face, eyes darting back and forth to assess the damage.
But your husband is still here so you push him away, “I’m fine, you should go.”
He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, “I won’t leave you with him.” He says quietly enough that you’re sure you’re the only one who heard him.
“Yes you will.” You look at him with cold, calculated calm. Your husband is still lying on the floor with stupid Lizzie coddling him, “You both should go.” You repeat.
Tommy is still staring at you and Lizzie has risen from where she was crouching next to your husband, placing a hand on Tommy’s arm, “Thomas, let’s go.”
You hate the familiarity of the touch, you’re able to tell she’s done it several times before. “Listen to your wife.” You say bitterly and that ice in his eyes is back. He simply backs away from you, Lizzie pulling him out the door.
“You humiliate me.” Benjamin says, now sitting upright and dabbing at blood at the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. It gives you sick satisfaction that Tommy had made him bleed.
“You humiliate yourself.” You say coldly.
“You danced with him like… Like you were some whore.”
You flinch at the insult, “I told you I knew him from Oxford, we took ballroom together. We were simply reminiscing.”
“You think me an imbecile,” He chuckles, “I saw the way you looked at each other. You’ve never once looked at me like that.”
Now you laugh and the sound makes him flinch, “Benjamin, when we met I looked at you like the sun and the moon set on your command, do not insinuate otherwise.” Your voice shakes with anger, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to touch and talk to me the way you talked to Tommy's wife all goddamn night. That’s why I danced with him. I wanted to make you jealous, I didn’t think you’d hit me.”
He’s shaking his head, “That doesn’t change the fact that you once bedded that man and then brought him into my house.”
You stare at him blankly, “If I recall correctly, you were the one who invited him here. And I daresay, Benjamin, with the way you were with his wife I have no doubt what you do on those business trips. I will not be made the villain when all I’ve done is begged for your love from day one.” He looks away from you at that and you relish how you’ve made him submit to you after being submissive for so long, “I’m going to bed, you’re welcome to wallow here in your weakness if you’d like.”
***
Tommy drives in silence with Lizzie next to him, quietly fuming. He has half a mind to turn around and drag you from that house himself, but he knew you’d never forgive him for that. “Was a bit daft to dance with her like that in front of her husband, don’t you think, Tom?”
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, the only indication of his agitation, “Was a bit daft to flirt with her husband in front of her for three straight hours, don’t you think, Lizzie?”
“He advanced on me--”
“No,” Tommy’s shaking his head, “No, don’t give me that bullshit. You knew what she meant to me and you went in there to purposely hurt her. Well congratu-fucking-lations Lizzie, you won.”
“As if you didn’t enjoy seeing her hurting after she left you.”
“Don’t talk about things you don’t know.” He said dangerously.
“Fine, Tommy,” She says, slumping in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest, “Let her destroy you again, went so well for you the first time.”
He doesn’t respond as he knows there is some truth to what Lizzie is saying. He would let you destroy him again, he would give you his last breath if that was what you wanted.
***
When you wake the next morning, Benjamin is gone. The maid told you he left in the early hours of the morning and handed you a note.
I know what he is and I know what you are. Don’t be here when I return.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Who had told him? How had he figured it out?
The answer was obvious. It had to have been fucking Thomas, trying to force your hand after you refused to leave with him. You crumpled the note and ran back upstairs to get dressed. You figured you had a few days until Benjamin came home, maybe you could still sort it out. The first order of business was going to yell at Tommy.
***
When he sees you walking down the streets of Small Heath looking murderous, he wonders what he’s done. Maybe this is a response to the previous night, but you hadn’t seemed homicidal when he left you.
“What the fuck did you tell him?” You greeted him by shoving him against the nearest building. He raised his arms in bored surrender, not wanting to cause a scene, but you didn’t seem to care about that, “Did you turn around and come back and tell him everything? Do you think I’ll run off with you now that I have nowhere to go?” Tears run down your cheeks now and he frowns in concern, “Well I won’t. I’m fucking done with you, Thomas Shelby. I don’t care if I have to beg on the streets--”
“What are you talking about?” He interjects finally. You look him over, eyes darting over his face and you can see there’s genuine confusion there. He didn’t do this.
Rubbing at your eyes, you sit on the nearest surface, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, “He knows who you are. Which means he knows who I am. He’s kicking me out.”
He gently puts a hand on your elbow, “Come inside. Please.”
For once, you let yourself be guided. He brings you inside the building that says Shelby Company Limited on the outside and then suddenly the rest of the Shelby family is staring at you.
“Tommy,” Polly says softly, staring at you with a hand on her heart, “You told us she was dead.”
You blink and then turn to Tommy who won’t look at any of you, “She was.”
Tommy Shelby had told his whole family that you were dead rather than go through the humiliation of explaining that you had left your old life behind in favor of another. Left him behind. You supposed, in a way, you had died.
Polly’s gaze drifts to your hand where you’re fiddling with your wedding ring. “Oh, Tommy. Tell me you haven’t killed someone’s husband.”
“Not yet,” The words send a jolt through you, “Stay here.” He orders, squeezing your shoulder.
“Tommy, wait,” He turns back to you, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to kill him before he ruins you and then you’ll have your pick of any lord you’d like. Maybe one of them will actually love you this time. Isn’t that what you want?”
It feels like a dig though you’re not sure he meant it to be one, “No.”
Sensing the energy in the room, the rest of Tommy’s family dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.
“What d’ya mean ‘no’?” There’s a bit of anger in his voice, “You don’t want to be with me, you don’t want to be a lady anymore, are you gonna live on the streets?”
“For your information, Thomas, if I wanted I could make a living for myself,” He scoffs. “But you’re wrong.”
“About what?”
You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes glittering with tears, “I do want to be with you.” After finally uttering the words, you brace yourself for rejection.
He stares at you and then rubs a hand over his face. He begins shaking his head, “You don’t mean that.”
You walk to him and reach your hands up to frame his face. You expect him to move away from your touch, but he doesn’t. When you gently stroke his face with your thumbs he closes his eyes and you truly understand how you had broken this man in front of you, “I do,” You say again, “And I’m sorry for ever making you think you didn’t deserve me.”
Finally, he does push your hands away and walks to the window on the far side of the room, his back to you, “I still want to kill him.” He says softly.
You frown, “Tommy--”
“If you weren’t in that room last night I would have kept punching and kicking and gouging his eyes out with my bare hands for daring to put a hand on you.” His voice is dangerously low, “Is that still the kind of man that you want?” He finishes bitterly.
He would kill a man for you. The thought sends a thrill through you. “I’ve spent the last few years of my life with a man who didn’t even attempt to learn my favorite type of jam, Tommy, do you understand?”
“It’s strawberry.”
You raise your eyebrows, “What?”
He finally turns to you, “Your favorite jam, it’s strawberry. I used to wait in line for hours in the summer when strawberries were in season to get some for you.” He smiles a bit to himself at the memory, “It was always worth it for the smile and kiss on the cheek you gave me.”
Tears finally cascade down your cheeks as you recall the memory, “I’d forgotten about that.” You say softly, “Tommy, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you.”
“You told me minutes ago that you wouldn’t run off with me, that you were done--”
“I know,” You say, “That’s when I thought you had betrayed me, that you wanted to force me to be with you--”
“I would never force you to be with me.” He says fiercely, “I would never force this life, this fuckin’ hell, on anyone.”
You shake your head, “I know what you’ve become since you came home. Knowing all of that, knowing what you’re truly capable of, I still choose you. I know you’re my only chance of real happiness.”
He stares at you for another few moments, “So you’ll marry me, then? The whole bit?”
You smile, “I imagined this whole bit to be much more romantic, but yes, I’ll marry you, Thomas.”
“You can’t change your mind once Benjamin comes back, it’s me or you figure out your own way.”
“I’m not choosing you because of the money. I’ve had the money, all it did was make me miserable.”
He steps to you and runs a thumb over your lips, “You’re really mine then, eh?”
“You know,” Familiar mischief lights up your eyes, “Benjamin won’t be back for a few days… What do you say we drink his expensive wine straight from the bottle and fuck on every surface we can.”
Tommy finally cracks a smile, “God, I fuckin’ love you.”
You laugh and go up on your toes to kiss him. He immediately dips his head to you, breathing you in deep as he kisses you. His tongue slides along your lip until you open to him, awarding him with a soft moan. His tongue strokes against yours and you feel hot need for him pooling between your thighs when he pulls away.
He relishes the pout on your face at his absence, “Save it for Benjamin’s bed, princess.” He smirks and tugs you out of the building, lifting you onto your horse. And as he rides, your arms wrapped around his waist, you only wish you had had the wisdom to choose Tommy Shelby first.
#mine#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fic#tommy shelby fic#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby one shot#tommy shelby x reader
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterNine
GIF is not mine, and i’m running out of options haha.
Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.
Chapter Summary: The one where an old friend return.
AO3> Land of Thieves
Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, cursing, blood. Chapters Warnings: Slightly smut, panic attacks.
Words: 53.380K (All chapters)
tags: @mionemymind @whosedevil
You wake up to a whistling noise. Wanda moves against you, burying her face in your neck, as you open your eyes, getting used to the clarity.
- Good morning, girls! - Nat says suggestively at the entrance to your tent. Wanda mumbles softly against your collarbone, not moving from her position on top of you.
- Good morning, Nat. - You retort, letting your hands go up to Wanda's back.
- Good morning, Nat. - Wanda repeats the greeting, but her voice is muffled against your neck. You don't mind.
Nat chuckles, walking into the room with her arms crossed.
- You guys are adorable, and everything. - She teases. - But we have work to do, Miss Maximoff.
Wanda grumbles, and Nat nudges her quickly in the ribs, causing her to wriggle against you and almost knock you off the bed. She keeps poking Wanda until she demonstrates that she is going to get up. You just laugh at the interaction.
- Fuck you Nat, I'm going. - Wanda retorts, pulling out of the hug and standing up. You let out a sigh, missing her body heat immediately.
She stretches and gives Nat a gentle shove that makes her laughs and exits the tent, while pointing to the watch on her wrist.
- Good luck. - You tell her imagining she was already following Nat, but Wanda turns to you and climbs into your lap as she leans her body to give you a firm kiss on the lips.
Your body warms up quickly, but as you bring your hands to Wanda's thighs, you hear Nat shout that she would throw a bucket of water on you both if Wanda didn't come soon, so you end the kiss, and Wanda leaves your tent.
You lie there for a few minutes, eyes closed, smiling with the memory of Wanda's warmth, before you get up. You know you have a long day ahead of you.
Shortly after you delivered Stephen's letter to Steve, and talked to him about the plans to steal the gold from the Rhodes families, you approached Bucky as he was sitting in his tent.
- Would you help me with something? - You asked him shyly, and he just smiled, signaling for you to sit in the chair in front of his bed.
You sat down, a bit awkwardly, and then handed over the letter Erik had given you.
- A man looked for me yesterday in Saint Denis. - You told Bucky. - His name was Erik Killmonger.
Bucky frowned, looking worried. And then he opened the letter, reading its contents.
- Did Killmonger say how he found you? - he asks seriously. And you look at him curiously.
- No. He didn't. - You reply. - Actually he didn't have time to tell me anything. - Seeing Bucky's confused expression, you add as you look away to the floor - Someone murdered him.
- Shit. - Bucky retorted, placing the letter on the bed, and running his hand through his hair. - Did anyone see you with him?
You blink in surprise at Bucky's nervousness.
- Only the guy who attacked him. - You reply. - But he must be in jail now.
Bucky shakes his head in denial, and then stands up, closing the tent. He sat down in front of you again, looking really worried.
- You can't tell Steve what I'm about to tell you, okay? - he asks, causing you to raise your eyebrows in surprise. But then you nod, and Bucky lets out a sigh before continuing. - Do you remember the time when I was away from the gang? A few years ago? - You nod in agreement. - I was up north. Helping the Wakanda people establish a reserve there. You didn't know her, but my sister lived with the Wakanda people, and she asked me to move there with her and her husband. - You were surprised by this information, but you didn't interrupt. - Unfortunately, explorations in that area started happening, and although no one can prove it, we know that the army attacked the reserve. My sister and her family died in the attack, and I rejoined the gang.
- I'm sorry about your sister, Bucky. - You say, and he smiles sorrowfully at you.
- That's all right, dear. It was a long time ago. - he says. - But what I want to tell you is this. A year after I returned, a group of Wakanda warriors set up a gang. A gang like ours. They call themselves the Panthers. - He tells you, and you nod, knowing exactly what he is talking about. - They came to me when we were in New Austin. They needed as much help as possible to get revenge on the soldiers who killed their families. And I accepted. - Bucky confesses, and pauses for a moment, as if lost in his memories. - Erik Killmonger was one of these men. We rode together to Fort Wallace, and together with the rest of the Panthers, we killed more than fifty federal soldiers.
- My God, Bucky. - you exclaimed. Bucky just looked at the ground.
- After that the Panthers became the protectors of the Wakanda people. They are not thieves, and they only kill in case of defense. - He continued. - The gang grew in size, and spread all over the country. What we did that day, unfortunately, only delayed the inevitable. - Bucky affirms, and then grabs the letter from the bed and places it in front of you. - Killmonger has obtained the court license issued by Captain Vasily Karpov for explorations on the lands of the New Elizabeth reservation.
- But what does this mean for the Wakanda people who live there?
- Death. - Bucky answered simply, and you held your breath. - And that's why Erik contacted you. He's trying to repeat what we did years ago.
You bite your lips thoughtfully. And then you turn your gaze back to Bucky.
- Erik told me to save someone. - You tell. - Maybe he wanted me to find another way to help them.
- I don't know. - Bucky rebuts. - I see no other way out but to fight. Wakanda will not leave their land, and they are completely justified in staying.
You let out a sigh, trying to think. And then an absurd idea strikes you.
- What if the land was bought? - you ask suddenly. Bucky looks at you with a raised eyebrow in confusion.
- We literally have less than $500...
- The scam, Bucky! - you exclaim, smiling. - We'll get more than five hundred dollars with those gold bars.
Bucky laughs, but then he realizes your expression.
- My God, are you serious? - he asks incredulously, and you nod. - Child, we don't even have the money yet! And we don't even know if we're going to get it. On top of everything else, the army will send troops to the area in a few days. We simply can't help them!
You don't answer Bucky, because you are too busy thinking about the whole plan. Bucky looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
- I need a paper and pen please. - You ask him, and he hurries to look for the items in the room.
When he hands you the objects, you turn toward the table next to the chair you are sitting on, and start writing down the plan as you explain everything to Bucky.
- If we do this right, we don't need to put anyone in danger. Especially the Wakanda people. - You say and Bucky nods slightly. - I really hope Tony Stark agrees to help us, or I'm going to need someone who looks a lot like a feudal lord.
Bucky laughs and picks up the plan sheet. He lets out a sigh and looks at you proudly.
- Let's do this, kid.
You don't tell Steve about your plan. Bucky doesn't like to talk about his past, and he thinks that this operation is something that only disrespects you and him. So he asks you not to mention anything to Steve, that he would find a way to tell him about it. You feel that they are distant lately, but you don't mention anything.
You have to go to Saint Denis, to pay Tony Stark a visit, so you leave after lunch. You'd like to kiss Wanda before you go, but she's not at the camp, and you figure she's still in Rhodes with Natasha.
It doesn't take that long to get to town, you quickly realize that your mare is quite sturdy and can run for a long time.
Now that you are in town, you need to find a way to find Tony Stark. The only place you know that has information on everyone is the saloons.
So you spend much of your afternoon pulling conversations with strangers and buying them drinks, while trying to find as much information as possible. Finally, while you are at a card table surrounded by well-dressed drunks, a man tells you that Stark lives in a mansion at the northern end of town. You say a polite goodbye after he describes the house, and then you leave the saloon in the direction of the place.
You figure that the guards standing in front of the gate, and scattered all over the entrance area will not respond to an outsider's request to see their boss, so you go around the house, looking for a way to get in without being seen.
You find a ledge in the wall, and scale with some difficulty, but finally enter. Then you walk around with your head down, and enter the house through one of the windows.
You have never been in a mansion before, but you imagine that they are all as beautiful as this one. The floor was so shiny that you could see your reflection in it, and you suppressed the urge to let out an impressed hiss.
Finding the stairs to the second floor, shortly after ducking behind a couch when I heard a maid walk by, you went upstairs.
You had to look through many empty rooms before you found Stark's.
Opening the door carefully, you frowned with confusion at the image you found. Tony was sitting with his legs spread on the floor in front of his bed. Many bottles of drinks surrounded him.
He raised his gaze to you as you entered, and let out a dry laugh.
- Are you here to kill me? - he asked, clearly drunk, and then laughed again.
- This is sad. - You commented with a light sarcastic tone, closing the door as you entered the room.
You walked toward the closets, looking for something for Tony to wear. You threw a set of the most comfortable clothes you could find on his bed.
Then you walked to the bathroom suite, and filled a metal pot with water.
- Sorry about that, Tony. But I just don't have the time. - You told him before you poured the water over his head.
He let out a mixed exclamation of anger and surprise, and sank his face into his hands. You put the bowl on the floor, and stooped down beside Tony.
- Did that sober you up enough, or do I need to get more water? - you asked, and Tony just flashed you his middle finger, eliciting a laugh from you. You stood up, looking around the room, amazed at the number of items there. You were going through the books on the bookshelf when Tony finally finished dressing after he had gotten up complaining of a headache.
- What the hell are you doing here? - he asked as he approached you, taking the book from your hand and putting it back on the shelf.
- You treat your friends very badly. - You sneer and he lets out a laugh, turning in the opposite direction toward the room's exit. You follow him through the house to the lower level, where he leads you into the living room, and you sit in one of the armchairs while Tony pours a drink for you, and water for himself.
- To what do I owe the honor of your visit? - He asks with a slight irony as he sits down on the sofa.
- I need your help with something. - you say. - But I would also like to know if everything is okay with you.
Tony seems really surprised that you would ask him that. He rests his legs on the living room table and assumes a lost look.
- Everything is fucking great. - He replies sarcastically. You frown, and he looks like he is going to cry at any moment. - I live in a house with twelve rooms. I have employees at my disposal twenty-four hours a day. Everything is just fine.
- Tony.
- No. - He interrupts. - I don't want your pity.
You sigh, crossing your arms and placing your legs lying on the table next to theirs.
- I don't pity you, Stark. - you say. - I was going to tell you to have a little self-respect and stop sinking to the bottom.
He laughs lightly, and you follow him. You fall silent for a moment, and you assume a serious expression.
- This is about your father, isn't it?
Tony's gaze is focused on one point in the room, as if he is not really there at all. But he nods slightly. You wait until he is ready to speak.
- I don't... My father and I, we didn't get along very well. - He confesses, looking down at his lap. - We had different opinions about many things. I never wanted his legacy. And then he died, and all his responsibilities fell to me.
- This isn't about you assuming his business, is it? - you ask after a moment. Tony laughs humorlessly.
- No. - He confesses, and when he speaks again, thick tears stream down his face. - I just miss him.
Tony wipes away his own tears as they fall, apologizing. But then he sobs, and you get up, and throw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging him tight.
- Damn, I'm sorry. - he says when you part, several minutes later. - I am a complete mess.
You nod in disagreement.
- Stop it, Tony. You don't have to apologize for your grief. - You tell him, and then put your hands on his shoulders, and give him a smile of mixed amusement and sarcasm. - But if I see you drown yourself in booze again, I'm going to punch you in the mouth, okay?
Tony laughs, hugging you one last time. He then gets up and asks one of his employees to prepare dinner for you both.
He beckons you to follow him to the table.
- You still haven't told me why you are here. - He says without sounding accusatory, just curious, while pouring you some wine.
- I need your help with a job. - You say. - I need you to pretend to be interested in buying some land for me.
- Maybe this is a good time for me to tell you that I am bankrupt. - He says, and you let out a laugh. He seems surprised by your reaction.
- Yeah, I heard. - You say. - People talk more than they should when they are drunk in saloons.
Tony laughs, agreeing with a wry nod. Two servants enter the room next, and serve you both your dinner. When they leave, and Tony sees your face toward the plate, he lets out a chuckle.
- Sorry, is this not appropriate for your refined palate? - He mocks, and you take one of the cutlery to poke at the food that has been placed in front of you.
- I don't mean to be rude. - you say. - But this doesn't look like food.
- This dish costs almost a thousand dollars.
- That's exactly why you're bankrupt. - You joke, making Tony laugh.
- It's called Caviar, by the way. - he says, eating some of the food. - You will hate it.
You laugh, and push your plate slightly forward. Fortunately, there were also other options you liked.
- Now tell me exactly what you want me to do. - He says after you finish putting some deer meat and mashed potatoes on your plate.
You explain to Tony that you need him to open a purchase order for the land in the New Elizabeth reservation area. He needs to prolong the negotiation as long as possible, until you have the scam money. You tell him what the Wapiti and Wakanda people went through there, but you don't mention Bucky. And when you finish, Tony drinks some wine.
When he nods in agreement, you let out a sigh of relief. And he laughs at your expression, but raises his hand to the table, holding yours.
You sleep in one of the rooms of the mansion, the bed is extremely soft. And then you are surprised that Tony is up bright and early the next day, excited to help you with your plan. He puts on his best clothes, and as you say good-bye at the front door, he tells you that he will keep in touch by correspondence about the negotiations, but that you should visit him as soon as you can to buy the land. You tell him that you intend to continue visiting him even after this scam, and he hugs you before you get on your horse.
Riding back to camp, you miss Wanda. You think you would like to share a large bed with her. And you feel your cheeks flush when you think about what this implies. How far away you were in your relationship. You realize that the next time you lie down with Wanda, you will most likely not sleep at all.
- Jesus, you're making that face. - You hear Pietro sneering while you are playing cards.He is sitting in front of you, while you are sitting at one of the camp tables.
- I'm not making any faces. - You retort, looking at your cards. Pietro chuckles.
- You can't even hide it when you're thinking about Wanda. - He teases.
You had arrived at the camp a few hours ago, and when you realized that Wanda was still away with Carol and Nat, you accepted Pietro's request to play. You had also talked to Bucky about the reserve plan just before you sat down to play.
Maybe you were too distracted, and now Pietro was teasing you.
- I'm thinking about my next move. - You hit back.
- On the game or on Wanda?
- God, Pietro. - You grumble blushing as you kick him under the table.
Pietro just laughs, and you play again in silence. When you win for the third time, you feel someone covering your eyes with their hands.
- Take a guess. - whispers a voice in your ear that you know well. You smile, raising your hands to Wanda's on your face.
- I think it' s the prettiest girl in camp. - You play along and hear her shyly laugh as she lowers her hands to your shoulders and kisses you on the cheek.
- Who's winning? - Wanda asks and you try not to mind her touch on your shoulders. She begins to massage them lightly and you ignore the shivering in your body.
You turn your head back slightly to look at Wanda, but she turns around and sits on your lap. You suddenly feel very aware of her presence, and try not to blush so much. The position warms your body, but you say nothing.
- You know very well that I can't beat Y/N. - Pietro grumbles, leaning his elbow on the table and his face in his hand. Wanda imitates her brother's gesture, and this causes her butt to bend over your lap, and suddenly it's hard for you to breathe normally.
- Play with me then. - She says to Pietro in a tone of defiance and playfulness. Pietro shrugs, and begins to deal the card between the two of you. You rest your head on Wanda's shoulder, watching the game, as you move your hands up to rest on her lap, hugging her.
Wanda is a good player, you watch them play in silence. And then Nat joins you next, looking tired.
- By the way, how was your work? - you ask.
- Fucking boring. - Nat mutters, looking at Pietro's cards as he observes the table. Wanda let out a giggle at her answer.
- At least we have a hint. - Wanda said a moment later, and Nat nodded in agreement, and then laid her head against the table.
- What hint? - asked Pietro, buying a card from the table.
You signaled a move to Wanda by raising your hand quickly to her set, and she smiled.
- A load of moonshiner leaving in two days. - Wanda answers Pietro after following the move you showed her. - We will follow and find the breach to steal them.
- This is cheating. - muttered Pietro watching you help Wanda again. You laugh, taking your hand away from her cards.
A few moments later, Wanda wins the game. Pietro lets out a disgruntled grumble, and Nat laughs at his expression. But then he lets out a loud exclamation as if he has remembered something.
- Girls, I completely forgot about the bear bet. - He tells you, and you roll your eyes playfully.
- We tied, Pietro. - reminded Wanda, but Pietro just shook his head in denial, a playful smile on his lips.
- That doesn't break the bet. - He says. - One wish for each.
- That doesn't make any sense. - Nat commented humorously, but she seemed interested in where this story was going. - Please wish him to stay in silence for two weeks.
You and Wanda laughed at the idea, but Pietro was contemplative.
- I think it would be fair if we each got a wish from the other two. - He said with mischief in his eyes. You knew he would find a way to make very good use of it.
- That's fine with me. - You agreed, shrugging your shoulders, it wasn't as if you'd thought of anything. Wanda then nodded.
Pietro seemed to get excited, and slapped the table lightly afterwards.
- Great! I want you two to handle all my chores for next week. - he declares, and Wanda lets out a dissatisfied sigh. You roll your eyes, and then say:
- You are so predictable, Pietro. - You comment. - My request to you is that you take over Wanda's chores for the next month.
Pietro looks shocked, and Nat laughs. Wanda turns her head to give you a little smile, and then turns to Pietro.
- And mine is for you to take over the monthly Y/N duties. - She says, and Pietro looks really annoyed that he didn't see that coming. You, Nat and Wanda laugh at his reaction.
- Plot should be against the rules. - He says angrily as he gets up and walks out toward his own tent.
Nat gets up next, stretching.
- You two are all hugs and cuddles, aren't you? - She teases you about your position, but you and Wanda just giggle. She then leaves with a smile.
You lean back against the chair as Wanda turns in your lap, her legs splayed out to the side, allowing you to see her face.
- How are you? - you ask as you twirl your arms around her and intertwine your hands around her waist to hug her. Wanda smiled, leaving one hand on your forearm and one on your neck, her fingers playing with the hair on the back of your neck.
- I miss you. - She says, ignoring your question. Her eyes sparkle with something that means something else, and makes you swallow dryly.
- I'm right here. - You joke breathlessly.
- I miss touching you. - She confesses softly before she brings your mouths together. Her tongue caresses yours with slowness and sensuality, making your whole body tremble.
You kiss like this for a few minutes, and then Wanda breaks the kiss, but keeps your foreheads together. You are both breathless as your mouths part. You think about saying something, but your mind is completely blank. And then Wanda is brushing her lips shallowly against yours again, as if deciding whether to kiss you again. She licks her lips, and this makes her tongue rub against your mouth because of the closeness, and you let out a low moan.
- God, keep it PG. - You and Wanda are startled as a voice sounds mockingly from beside you. Wanda sinks her face into your neck, you can't tell if she is embarrassed that she was caught or if she is trying to calm down. You look at who is talking, and find Carol with a suggestive look in her eyes. - I hate to be a bother, girls, but I need to steal Y/N away for a little while.
You let out a sigh, and from the look on Carol's face, you know what you are talking about. The blonde nods her head for you to follow her, and walks off in the direction she has pointed.
You raise your hands along Wanda's back, stroking her tenderly to get her attention. Wanda looks up at you next, a dark gleam in her eyes, mesmerizing you, but a mischievous smile on her lips.
- I have to go. - You mumble, clearly preferring to stay.
- Go before I kiss you again. - She says, looking down at your lips. - If I do, you're not going anywhere.
You let out a breathless laugh, and Wanda stands up. She smiles at you before you walk over to Carol's tent.
- What happened? - you ask as soon as you enter the place. Carol is waiting for you with a cigarette on her lips, standing beside you as she looks around the camp.
- Bucky told me about your little adventure. - She says without looking at you. You can't tell if she is angry, but you are surprised that she knows. You put your hands in your pockets while you wait for her to speak again. - I've been thinking about the whole situation. Do you have any idea how Killmonger even found you?
- No. - You shrug. - He died before you could tell me.
Carol takes a long drag on her cigarette before speaking.
- I'll find out if he was following us. - She says. - I wouldn't want to end up bringing other people to us.
You nod knowing that she is referring to the feds and bounty hunters.
- You want me to come along, right?
- You'd rather stay with your wife? - Carol replies with a teasing tone and a sideways smile. You can feel your cheeks flush, but your tone of voice is also provocative when you say:
- Wouldn't you?
Carol lets out a giggle, and throws the cigarette on the floor, putting it out with her boot. Then she turns to you.
- I'd better ride alone. - She says. - I'll attract less attention. And besides, Killmonger looked only for you, so maybe it's better that you are not seen investigating.
You nod, and Carol pats you on your back before walking off in the direction of the horses.
You return your own tent, and Bucky enters at the back, carrying a letter in his hands.
- This is for you, kid. - He says, handing you the paper. - It's from Tony Stark.
You thank him and hurry to open it.
- He made it. - You tell Bucky as you finish reading. - We have a week until the buyer arrives to meet with Tony.
Bucky nods, looking anxious. You place a hand on his shoulder.
- It'll work out, okay? We'll do it together. - You assure him. He gives you a short smile, and a pat on the arm before leaving.
You throw yourself on your bed then lie down as you stare up at the ceiling of the tent. You feel slightly anxious. You trust Stark, and you will have to be content with that. The other alternative was to die in a gunfight defending that territory.
You end up napping for a few hours. When you wake up, it is very late at night. You walk out of your tent, and many huts are closed, indicating that much of the camp is asleep.
You walk over to the campfire area, where Nat and Bruce are sitting by the fire.
- Hey. - You greet them with a smile, which they respond to.
- Hey, sweetheart. - Nat says. - Do you want to sit down?
You shrug, looking around. You are cold, but feel that you are interrupting them both.
- Not really. - You deny it and your heart races slightly when you notice Wanda several meters away, staring at the lake. - I-I'm going to...
- You can go. - Nat cuts you off with a smile and an insinuating look. You give an embarrassed chuckle, and walk away in the direction of the lake.
You hug your jacket against your body as you walk toward Wanda. She is right on the edge of the camp area, and when you are arriving, you make sure to make your steps louder so that it doesn't startle her. And then she turns her head slightly to the side, and gives you a shy smile, before looking away again towards the lake.
- Someone is pensive. - You comment with a slight playfulness in your tone as you stop beside her. Wanda is quick to entwine her arm in yours and suddenly you forget that you were cold.
- Take a good look over there. - She says without looking away from the front. - Can you see the swans?
You squint your eyes to see through the darkness, and at first you see nothing. But then, several meters from where you stand, floating majestically on the water are swans. And they are white like the moon, and completely hypnotize you.
- They are beautiful. - You remark. - Do you remember the last time we saw swans, Wanda? When we were little...
- And we ran away to get married. - She interrupts with a giggle. - Oh yes, I remember well. - You laughed as Wanda turned to you. - We ran away to get married in secret and Bucky and Steve followed us for two days.
You laughed as you remembered.
- We were, what, fourteen? - you ask, and Wanda agreed with a nod as she laughed. - Wow, that sounds like a lifetime ago.
- Yes. - She says looking at the lake. - I think I would do it again.
- What? - you ask with a smile. - Run away?
Wanda turns to you, her eyes glowing tenderly.
- I would run away again with you.
Your heart skips a beat, but you hold her gaze and smile
- Where would we go? - You find yourself asking as Wanda brings your bodies closer together, and rests her forehead against yours.
- I'd go anywhere with you. - she declares.
- Wow, you are loaded with declarations of love today, Wands. - You sneer breathlessly, Wanda laughs and hugs your neck, burying her face in your hair. You wrap your arms around her waist.
- I'm glad that we don't have to run anymore. That I... I can love you without worrying.
Wanda lets out a sigh against your neck, and then looks up at you with misty eyes, a shy smile on her lips.
- I love you. - she confesses. - And I'm happy with you.
You nod slightly, your heart racing, and then kiss her. Tenderly and softly, just savoring her taste. And when you part, you remain holding hands as you watch the swans migrate away.
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x you#wandaxyou#wandaxreader#Land of Thieves#Marvel imagines#red dead redemption au
119 notes
·
View notes
Text
Daggers and Swords
Royal AU fem! Reader x assassin!fem!Chuuya
Side characters: Butler, Aiden(youngest brother), Samanda(Sister)
Inspired by the amazing @kiyokoxd and @bsdparadise !♡
You strode over to your room, closing the door and sliding down to the ground. It had been a tiring day, today, and all you wanted was to rip your tiara off and chuck it out the window. This bloody royalty shit was too much for you to handle. So what if you had "pure royal blood"? If you didn't want to marry that jerk of a prince, then you won't! And you had little to no interest in being the queen. The people of this kingdom can go to hell. You didn't give a shit.
Sighing, you got up, deciding that changing out of these tight clothes was the best course of action. It was already night time, and you couldn't bear being in this flowy gown anymore.
You rummaged around in your gigantic wardrobe, searching for a simple black gown. It wasn't a nightgown, but in fact a less shimmery, and more matte, casual tea-dress. You still had to attend a meeting with your siblings regarding your ascent to the throne, but it needn't be an extravagant event. It was just you, Aiden and Samanda, after all. You could wear a simple dress for this.
As you were changing, you heard a knock on your door.
"Who is it?"
You were currently in your black lacy bralette and a skirt slip. It wasn't very modest a look to share with the men.
"Madam sent me. She wanted you to have this before you attended the tea party."
A feminine voice spoke through the doors.
"Come on in, then."
Not paying the maid any mind, you proceeded to pull out the dress and take your time with wearing it. You heard the door shut closed and the lock being turned. You didn't pay it any mind, though. Maids often locked the doors to help you change into your gowns.
Once you were done, you turned around only to be pushed into the wall.
"Don't move."
The so called 'maid', pulled out a knife and held it to your throat.
You chuckled.
"Or what?"
She sneered up at you with her striking blue eyes.
"Move a muscle and you're dead, missy. Don't try me."
You raised a brow at her. She was quite a short and petite little thing. She was called the 'red pirate', a name that was clearly based off of her striking hair. You had always imagined this feared assassin to be imposing. You certainly hadn't expected a tiny female.
"You're so short.", you mused, raking your eyes over her delicious figure.
She growled, pushing the blade further into your skin, drawing a little blood.
"Shut up, or-"
"Or what? You'd kill me? Oh please."
You scoffed, leaning closer to the blade.
"We both know you're in deep trouble already. You don't want the blood of a princess on your hands, especially not the heiress of the throne."
Chuuya, the assassin, grit her teeth. She had heard rumours about the princess' witty nature. Chuuya already had anger issues, and you were getting on her nerves. Your words were frustrating her. She was already flustered from the accidental show of your toned body when she entered the room. She hadn't expected you to be changing.
"What are your plans? Are you hoping to steal an artifact and sell it for some money?"
You whispered in her ear.
"Or are you planning to kidnap me. Hmm?"
Chuuya gulped, a dark blush spreading on her cheeks. The intimacy was too much for her to handle.
She was about to speak back, when you both heard a knock on the locked doors. She froze for a second, before placing the palm of her hand on your mouth to shut you up.
"The Prince is calling for you, princess."
Your butler spoke from the other side.
You bit her hand, causing her to jump in shock, and used the opportunity to flip your positions. Grabbing her own dagger, you placed it against her throat.
"I'll be right there."
You called out.
"Okay, princess."
As you heard the footsteps fade away, you leaned closer to your little assassin.
"You know, I like you. How about we talk this out? It would be a shame to waste such beauty by hurling it into prison."
Chuuya growled, trying to kick you. Your reflexes were fast, and in a moment, you had your knee pressed I to her thigh to keep it in place.
"Nuh-uh. No funny business. "
She huffed, giving up.
"Now tell me. Why are you here?"
Chuuya hit her head on yours, making you lose your balance. She struck her arm forward, trying to stick her dagger into your flesh. You stumbled back, grabbing a chair and blocking her attack. The tip of the knife pierced through the cushion and wood, stopping an inch away from your face. Tossing the chair away, you reached underneath the edge of your bed, grabbing your hidden sword.
As Chuuya flung her dagger at you again, you blocked it with your sword, swiping at her feet. She dodged, elbowing you in your back, making you fall down.
She lunged at your torso, hoping to stab you. You rolled away, missing the blade by a millisecond.
"Why won't you just lie still!", she growled as she tried to pull the dagger from the wooden floor.
You jumped up on your feet, and charged into her with your shoulder. Pushing her onto the large king sized bed, you pinned her down.
Chuuya gasped, shocked and flustered. Fuck. This princess is really having an effect on her heart.
It wasn't like chuuya to let emotions get between her work, but she couldn't help but admire your beauty and charm.
Realizing the position you two were in, chuuya blushed, evading your gaze.
You were quick to notice, smirking.
"Flustered, are we?"
Straddling Chuuya, you sat up straighter, flicking your hair out of your face. At that moment, you could swear you saw Chuuya checking you out.
"Ah. I see why you're here."
Chuuya panicked. Did you really see through her plans?! If you figured it out, then her mission would practically fail.
"You're hear to woo the future queen and become ruler, aren't you?"
"Wh-what?! No!"
You giggled, leaning down to peck Chuuya's cheek. The simple action had her blushing furiously and hiding her face behind her hands. You gently held her hand, pulling at it to reveal her red face.
Chuuya looked up from behind her lashes, too shocked to think straight. As you looked down at her with that stupid smile, Chuuya couldn't help but feel her heart start beating rapidly.
You slowly began leaning closer to Chuuya, eyes trained on hers. Chuuya's lips parted in anticipation, and she kept glancing at your lips. They looked so soft.
Your smell, your closeness, it was all so intoxicating. Chuuya found herself getting lost in your aura.
You were so close now. Just a hair's breadth away. If Chuuya leaned up ever so slightly, she'd be able to taste your lips.
Click
The metallic sound was enough to snap her out of the trance.
"You bitch!"
Chuuya tugged at her hands, but to no avail. You had cuffed her hands to the headboard.
Getting off the mattress, you looked down at Chuuya pitifully.
The extreme change in your expression startled Chuuya. Were you acting all along? Were you manipulating her all this while?
"If you had done your homework about me, you would have known the most irritating trait of mine."
Chuuya frowned. She had done extensive research about the princess.
"Oh? And what's that?"
You glared down at her.
"I never lose."
With that, you stormed out of the room, not bothering to call the guards.
You would punish her yourself.
This could very well be fem! Dazai x Fem! Chuuya as the main character has such a Dazai vibe to her...
#dazai#shadyteacup#shady☕#shadyteacup event#dazai x reader#Nakahara Chuuya#nakahara chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara#fem chuuya#genderbend#genderbend chuuya#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya headcanons#chuuya smut#chuuya angst#hanimehub#fem dazai#fem!dazai#fem!chuuya#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs imagine#bungou stray dogs dazai#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs dazai#bungo#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou SD#bsd#bsd dazai x reader
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
u talk to like almost any filipino or indonesian and they have family usually aunties or mums or cousins who have been sent overseas to be maids for middle class families in like msia or singapore or japan or wherever and you get like mums of young children who spend decades away from their kids who never see their children grow up or anything outside of thru whatsapp video calls and they make pennies and send them back to their families and live in fucking poverty and at the mercy of their bosses, often undocumented women, if they need to go to the hospital they have to hope and pray that their boss will take them or give them money to go and pay for their bills, they have no idea if their own living conditions will be good if they'll be living on the floor in a fucking closet or if they'll even have a bed, they're expected to be available like minimum 12 hrs a day 7 days a week unless their employer is "merciful" enough to give them a day off every week, and their employers act like they're doing the maid a favour by employing them and they are such good people for not beating and torturing them and they're not like "those other employers" and there's absolutely no regulation no monitoring nobody is watching to make sure people are being treated well. it's all so disgusting it's dehumanizing it's fucked up and if you support this industry or don't see anything wrong with what's going on I literally hope your maid steals all the money you have and escapes with it and never gets caught
150 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweet Time
a/n: soo, I took the liberty of changing the pov in the song to be from harry’s perspective instead of the oc’s, but i’m quite happy with how it turned out. i recommend you listen to the song this fic is inspired by while reading as it might give some more depth to what’s going on inside harry’s head than what i already give throughout the story. Thank you for reading and please reblog if you enjoy it xx
This fic is a part of @harrystylescherry playlist fic challenge which i’m super excited to be part of! Remember to read the rest of the entries and show your support <3
Pairing: Harry x OC Delilah
Warnings: Angst, fluff, language
Word count: 4.7k
It seems bad luck runs through all of Harry’s relationships. The three he’s had that lasted long enough to be considered serious all ended because of the same reason - Harry’s fame. Mixing their jealousy of the women media connected him to; and anger that he couldn’t be with them every time something important happened made him exhausted. His girlfriend was supposed to support him in every way possible, just as he would support them and know that if he could spend more time with her, obviously he wouldn’t be flying to god knows where for who knows how long. It clearly wasn’t enough for his exes to know that if he could, he would, but his life isn’t run only by himself. He has managers and a record label who tells him what to do and when.
**
Lucie had been ringing his phone for the last hour without any answer and it surely must have pissed her off because the texts she sent after weren’t pleasing to say the least. Harry had been in the studio for a while and his phone had been silenced so he could solely focus while creativity was rolling through him. He had told his girlfriend that he would be unavailable for most of the week with writing and recording as much as possible, but he’d call or text whenever he was free. Thinking she had understood, he didn’t care to text her right before entering the studio to tell her she wouldn’t be able to get a hold of him for a while, but after seeing the texts he thought to himself he should’ve texted her.
“Why the fuck aren’t you answering??”
“Harry you better answer your fucking phone this instance or we’re over!”
“Seriously Harry what is more important than me, your girlfriend!!”
“Are you with another woman???? ANSWER ME YOU FUCKING DICK”
No, it wasn’t the first time Harry had been subject to her angry texts, probably drunk off her ass and having no one else to be mad at. He knew he shouldn’t put up with the way she’s treating him, but when they’re together she acts completely different. She never raises her voice at him or asks who women he’s seen with are. They always enjoy their time together, cuddling on the sofa while watching a movie or going to her parents’ for a Sunday roast. Though she’d never be seen cleaning or cooking, telling Harry that it wasn’t her job to do so when he could have maids and chefs.
Even his mum had told him she wasn’t what he needed in a girlfriend. A snobby, gold digger who has jealousy and anger issues ultimately wasn’t someone he had time for. Those texts were what made him decide that he had to end the relationship now, before it’s too late.
A week later he made it home from Los Angeles and he wasn’t surprised to see Lucie running towards him after hearing the car doors slam outside. She always acted as if nothing happened while he was gone. He couldn’t believe he had wasted almost a year on this girl and before she could get any closer to him he told her they were done. Yes, it sucked to tell someone they weren’t wanted any longer, but it was the right decision in the end and his mum would surely be happy he got rid of her.
**
A year after breaking up with Lucie, his third girlfriend (who honestly might have been a little too into his fame and money than he realized at the time), he met Delilah. To be honest, Harry had told himself that he wanted to stay single and focus on himself and his upcoming album, but Delilah threw his plans out the window after only a month of dating - or what he called “just friends getting to know each other”. Delilah on the other hand called them dates and could only hope it would expand into something greater than that.
**
Harry had been sat in the restaurant they were meeting at for half an hour, hoping Delilah wouldn’t be much longer. He was grateful she had texted him to let him know she’d be running later than expected as the traffic was crazy and she had to stay at work an hour longer than anticipated. If she hadn’t let him know, he’s sure he would have cried from the embarrassment.
Not knowing how much longer she’d be, he called his mum. Her voice had always calmed him down and that’s exactly what he needed at this very moment - sitting alone in a restaurant at a table for two in a secluded corner waiting for what might be the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on.
“Hello my sweetness. How are you?” They got into talking about Harry’s surprise trip home for his sister's birthday in a couple of months. Anne and Harry were planning a surprise birthday party for her and it wasn’t something he’d ever want to miss. After minutes of talking about the surprise and anything else popping up into the conversation, Anne asked what he was doing. It wasn’t that he had hidden the fact that he had a new friend on purpose, but he supposes that he wanted to keep this one private - even from his mum who knows everything going on in his life.
“Just having dinner with a friend who’s running a tad late which is why I called you.” He wasn’t sure he was able to keep the excitement out of his answer. Though Delilah was only a friend and he certainly wasn’t looking for another relationship that would end up breaking, he already liked her more than he probably should.
“Oh, I see. A friend friend perhaps?” Anne snickered, knowing that if she pried long enough, he’d have no choice but to spill. This time it wouldn’t happen though as he saw Delilah walking towards the back of the restaurant and the table where he was seated waiting patiently for her.
“Sorry, mum, my guest has arrived. I’ll call another day, love you.” Harry didn’t hear the ‘love you’ his mum said back to him before pulling his phone from his ear and hanging up. Pocketing his phone while standing up, he smiled at Delilah who looked stressed but beautiful in her very classy outfit paired with some killer heels and Harry didn’t even want to think about how much they hurt her feet.
When they both finally sat down, the chatter never died down and the wine never stopped pouring.
**
It took a while before she earned Harry’s trust, but it was proof that he did trust her when he invited her over to his house for the first time after five months of dating. She had proved to Harry that she took his privacy seriously and she, too, wanted to keep whatever it was they had going on between only the two of them. Almost as if it was something sacred, and really it was.
Harry had been over for movie nights and dinners at Delilah’s plenty of times, even going as far as staying over a handful of times. She gave him complete reigns of what they did and never pressured him into going out in public and there wasn’t a suspicion (that Harry knew of at least) of why he didn’t want to go any further than light groping and making out before pulling away. When he wanted to talk to her, she would be there for him.
**
Delilah had her legs thrown over Harry’s thighs and his hands were lightly massaging her feet tired from a long day at work. They had ordered pizza from what Harry called ‘the best pizza place he’s ever been to’ and when Delilah took her first bite she couldn’t help but moan at the explosion of taste in her mouth. It really was the best pizza. This was only her second time hanging out at Harry’s house, only wanting to come when he invited her as to not invite herself into his most private space.
Harry had shot her a message earlier in the day asking her if she’d like to come over after work seeing as it was a Friday and therefore the night didn’t have to end as early as a weeknight. Of course, he didn’t tell her that, but he wanted to have the option open for her to stay the night if he felt comfortable enough by the end of the night to ask her.
Delilah could Harry’s head was spinning in all directions while mindlessly continuing to rub her feet, up to her legs. She could positively say none of her exes had ever given her a foot massage, making Harry look even better in her books (though he didn’t need it, he was already better than any of her expectations and she could only hope she reached his expectations).
“What’s wrong, sweets?” She had taken up the nickname for him after hearing his mum call him something similar, but not wanting to steal her nickname for him. Harry smiled every time she called him that, loving the feeling he got in his stomach from how it sounds coming off of her tongue.
“Just thinking and going in circles round my head.” It didn’t give away anything other than he was stressing or worried about something Delilah had no idea what it could be. Sitting up, she planted a kiss to his cheek before smashing their cheeks together in a tight hug - all she wanted was to be there for him if he wanted to talk, or just sit in silence together. Hopefully he’d have the guts to throw her out if he wanted to be alone.
Harry giggled when she didn’t let up her strong hold around his neck, not nearly enough to choke him, but enough to hold him in place. He turned his head to look at her quickly before melting their lips together in what can only be described as an expressive and intense kiss. Delilah didn’t know what he was trying to express, but it must be something good with the way he’s pulling her onto his lap, their lips never separating more than a second.
“Would you want to stay the night?” He had gone through every pro and con in his head, but Delilah showing him she was there for him without trying to pull anything out of him made up his mind. There was no doubt he wanted her to stay at his place for the night and he’d drive a hard bargain for her to even think about saying no.
There was no need for a bargain though, Delilah nodding her head quickly before pulling him in for another kiss, or two, or three. She wasn’t worried about not having pajamas here or her toothbrush or her trusty face cleanser. None of it mattered even slightly, when all she could think about was how much trust Harry was putting in her. For a minute there she was the happiest she’s ever been and as Harry’s nerves subsided he was the happiest he’s ever been.
The couple went for a short drive to Delilah’s apartment to pick up some essentials, as well as the supermarket to buy ingredients for breakfast in the morning (and new bathroom essentials to keep in his bathroom for times when she would stay the night). By the time they got back to Harry’s, they were ready to hop into bed - a bed she had yet to try out, but was sure would exceed all her expectations.
Harry was tucked into his bed on the side he regularly slept on when Delilah walked out of his ensuite, ready to lay down right next to him. Knowing from the past times they’ve shared her bed that he’s a big cuddler, she was excited to see how much more comfortable and cuddly he’d be in his own bed.
**
Though Harry felt safe and trusted Delilah enough to share his house with her and have her sleep over, something was still holding him back from asking the big question that they both probably knew should have come earlier. Even his mum was unsure why he hadn’t asked her yet or let her meet the woman he’s spending all his time with.
By the seventh month of dating, she was starting to question herself. If she wasn’t doing anything wrong and he still trusted her, why would he not have asked her to be his girlfriend already? She thought it was pretty clear to everyone that knew about their ‘relationship’ that she wouldn’t say no.
**
“So, Delilah, how’s it going with Harry?” She was out for drinks with her best girlfriends and the only ones she had told about Harry - except her parents, of course. It was an unwritten rule to not talk about boy trouble or anything of the sort on their nights out, but it was clear Delilah’s head wasn’t in it. Something had to be up with her and the only thing her friends could think of, was Harry.
“We’re good. He’s feeling safe and comfortable with me. We’re going to his mum’s next weekend to relax before he leaves.” Her voice was definite and if her friends didn’t know her they wouldn’t think anything was wrong with their relationship. Delilah spends a lot of time with him and the past month she’s slept over most nights, even on the days she’s had work the next. Harry had cleared out more space for her in his bathroom vanity and closet - which he knew was way larger than what he really needed, but had still managed to fill with no problem.
Delilah sipped on her drink as she went back into her head, thinking about how tonight was just like any other day. Harry will pick her up exactly ten minutes after she calls to tell him the night is over, he’ll hold her thigh on the drive back to his home while she talks his head off about nothing. When they arrive home, they’ll do exactly what they always do when she stays the night - wash their faces together, brush their teeth and while Delilah finds her outfit the next day Harry goes to get a water bottle he always keeps in the fridge that they will share throughout the night. It’s become routine and the domesticity around it makes Delilah’s heart flutter.
“Have you had the talk about going official? Becoming boyfriend and girlfriend? I thought maybe he’d asked by now with how you’ve been. I mean, you basically live there by now.” Lyla tried to pull out the thoughts swirling around Delilah’s head without being too invasive if she really didn’t want to talk about it.
“I don’t know honestly, I think we’re doing great and I’m so happy with him. I don’t want to force him if he isn’t ready, but it’s been seven months and he hasn’t said anything about making it official no matter how much it feels like it already is. I can’t imagine he doesn’t feel the same. It’s pretty obvious what we’re doing is exactly how it’s like being in a serious relationship.” She braced herself and let it all out - all her thoughts about not making it official yet or how domestic their relationship has become over the past couple months. She would be indescribably sad if Harry wasn’t to actually feel like she thinks he does and that might be the reason why she hasn’t had the guts to be the one to initiate the conversation.
**
The next couple of weeks went by smoothly for the pair. With Harry being gone for most of it, she had a lot of time for herself to go through her feelings and get the chance to figure things out. She tried to hide her - what felt like crushed - feelings from Harry, not wanting him to pry for her to open up and ruin everything. She agreed with herself that if they had to do things slower than normal because Harry needed the time to get there, then that would be okay as long as he actually would get there one day. There was also no way she could leave the man behind just because he’s been hurt in the past and is now - overly - precautious. The very least she could do to save what they had was to try and help him realize that she wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t want anything but the best for him, and she wanted to be the best.
Delilah came home from work to Harry cooking a storm in the kitchen late one afternoon after he came back to London. It wasn’t that she didn’t know he could cook that surprised her, no, he was always making them dinner - with or without Delilah’s help. What did surprise her though, was the romantic set up in the living room that she had never seen before.
**
Harry was in deep concentration standing over the stovetop where he had vegetables boiling, along with the chicken he’s grilling. It’s getting close to done when he heard his front door open and he didn’t bother turning around, knowing it could only be one person - Delilah. The girl he’d been obsessed with for the past eight months. But, fuck, he was terrified of getting infatuated with someone again, only having been burnt by it in the end previously.
There was something so raw and new with this one, though, such a breath of fresh air for him. It was like he was supposed to go through those bad relationships to end up here - with the perfect fit for him. She never took it to heart when he couldn’t be there for some things, having to leave the country for weeks at a time, but encouraged him to go, have fun, text me when you land. The first time she told him so, he was speechless and couldn’t move his feet for seconds before he got back to earth.
The first time he slept over at her place was pivotal for him and him realizing where this could go, and that was over six months ago. He had told himself to take it slow, enjoy the moment and not do anything because he felt it was the right time. The right time was usually never right in the end because he still wasn’t ready. If he were to lead a relationship with Delilah it would have to be on his terms, mostly because he didn’t want this one to go wrong. This potential relationship with the girl of his dreams was something he needed to get right. If that meant waiting a little longer to make it official, move in together or start a family - now he’s really thinking far into the future - then he would do so because he knew in the end it would save them both from heartbreak.
Ever since him and Delilah got closer his mum saw a change in him, though the insecurities and unease he had from former relationships were still haunting him. The first time he voluntarily spoke to his mum about her, she told him to follow his heart and only time could tell if she was the one for him. The last time he spoke about her, Anne told him he had to do something, because even though they act as if they’re together, she doesn’t have the security blanket of love that she needs to stay with him. That really set fire to his plans - knowing he had to do something about it before it was too late.
Therefore he ended up deciding on making her dinner and putting in effort to show his romantic side that she hasn’t seen a lot of was the way to go. He wanted to go all out for her to show that this is what he wants and he feels safe and secure enough in himself and them as a couple to make it official. It’s what he craved.
He heard Delilah’s feet softly moving on the hardwood flooring to get from the entry to the kitchen. He also knew she had smelt his cooking and seen the rose petals, candles and blankets scattered all over the living room. There was no doubt she was suspicious over the reason for his doings, but at the same time she held back and waited for Harry to make the first step.
“Hi lovey, dinner is almost ready. You want to change into something comfy before we eat?” Harry only turned around for a single second to try and see if her face could tell him anything about how she’s feeling.
“Smells delicious. Be back in a tick, sweets.” The grin creeping out from his lips couldn’t be stopped after hearing her call him his favorite nickname. He hopes it means she’s happy with him. While Delilah changes upstairs in their - pretty much - shared closet, Harry dishes up the plates and finds her favorite red wine to drink with the meal. Right as he finishes putting everything in its place, she descends from the staircase and Harry finally takes a moment to admire her. He finds her beautiful in a pair of leggings and one of Harry’s hoodies she decided to steal. Before getting completely lost in her beauty, he coughs and reaches his hand out to tell her to come sit with him on the floor in front of the sofa.
Harry wanted to wait until they had finished their meal to bring their relationship up, hoping to enjoy their little impromptu - on her end at least - date night before getting serious. Delilah was smiling and wouldn’t stop gushing over his surprise making him feel better about what was to come. He was sure she would say yes, but the little doubt he had left in him wouldn’t go away until he got his answer and knew for sure.
Later in the evening, they were still sitting on the floor, talking about their days and upcoming events. Harry’s hand was running along her legs thrown over his lap and hers were holding the wine glass recently filled up again when he felt the need to get everything off his chest.
“Darling. I know I’ve taken things slow with you, slower than we both probably wanted, but I hope you know I haven’t been stringing you along for nothing. Tonight I wanted to show you how much you mean to me and how much I’ve grown to care for you. I hope you knew that anyway.” Harry was smiling at her while coming clean with all his thoughts and feelings.
“I’ve loved the naturalness of how we’ve moved through our friendship. Nothing with you has ever felt forced or uncomfortable, maybe because you let me take my time and have control over what I can. I can’t tell you how much that has meant to me and I want you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed. The domesticity around us feels so easy and I hope that doesn’t ever change. Because we’ve been acting as if we’re together, it kind of slipped my mind that we’re not, but tonight I wanted to ask you, finally, if you want to make it official and be mine?”
**
After making it official, there was nothing holding them back from each other. They were together as much as their lives allowed them to be and Delilah even surprised Harry by going to his first show on tour in Los Angeles. He thought she didn’t get the time off of work to be able to come, but Delilah knew he wouldn’t be upset with her lying about it when in the end it would make him happy. They had been official for six months at the time and were practically inseparable. Neither of them knew how they would do with the distance over a longer period of time compared to the two to three weeks he was usually gone for before coming home. Sure in themselves and what they had, they knew they’d get through this, too.
**
Delilah hadn’t gotten the chance to surprise Harry much over the past year since she got to know Harry, unlike how he had managed to surprise her quite a few times. They were often small, but thought out and always showed her how much he appreciated her. For the longest time; she had been thinking about how she could surprise him without him finding out - and her chance came landing right into her hands with him going on tour. She called Jeff the minute she thought of it, the day after Harry asking her if she would be able to come out for a couple of days during his tour, preferably the first show.
Jeff and Delilah had managed to keep the secret from Harry for over a month with Jeff buying her a plane ticket for the day his first show was. She got picked up by a driver at the airport and drove straight to the Forum to catch him on stage singing his heart out. Though she was only able to see him for the last fifteen minutes of his first show, it was exactly what she imagined - Harry dancing around the stage, singing to a crowd so loud she thought her ears might lose hearing.
Right before Harry was set to come off stage, Delilah was guided through the backstage area to Harry’s dressing room where he would finally see her and hopefully get surprised. She was sitting on the black leather sofa with her hands fiddling in her lap as she waited the short while. It was clear he was getting closer as the loud screams got quieter. Excitement, nervousness, happiness, restlessness. They were all feelings running through her, the anxiety easier to feel when she finally heard his laughter moving through the hallways and she knew he was only meters away from her.
Only seconds later she saw the door handle jiggle before the door opened just a crack as he was still standing in the hallway talking to someone Delilah couldn’t quite distinguish. Finally, he pushed the door further open and he was turning toward her, no idea someone would be waiting for him, nevertheless, his girlfriend he thought was stuck at work back in London. His eyes landed on her and for a while, he just stood in front of her still in the doorway thinking he was seeing things. When he understood that she was actually sitting in front of him his eyes couldn’t help but glaze over while shutting the door - he wanted this moment to be between him and his girl, no one else. Harry practically ran toward her, thinking he couldn’t get to her fast enough, and Delilah just about managed to stand up before he threw himself at her.
For a long time they stood on his dressing room floor, Harry’s arms around her neck and Delilah’s around his waist as they held each other close. Both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, not from the three weeks they had been away from each other, but the sentiment of her actions. All the small things she had done for him since day one, waiting for him to feel comfortable and ready to dive into what they hoped would be a future together, always asking before doing something he might not be okay with, being too kind and gentle with him, always, and lastly her surprising him on tour. Something suddenly clicked in his head as he smelled her cherry blossom perfume he loved so much - this was it; Delilah was it for him, it was she he had been waiting for to come into his life after going through too many shitty relationships and breakups. There was no way he would let this one go when she understands him and loves him for everything he is (though they hadn’t said that yet - Delilah being afraid to scare him away and Harry wanting to wait until one day it slipped and came naturally).
Delilah, too, felt the same. She knew he was it for her - showering her with the affection and tenderness she needed from someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. They were perfect together and if taking it slow was the way to go with Harry then she would continue to do so forever, making sure he is always comfortable and safe with her.
**
Thank you for reading, will hopefully be back with another chapter of my fwb series soon <3
#playlistficchallenge#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles x yn#harry styles x reader#harry styles x oc#harry styles au#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles series#harry styles smut
134 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1,547 Words
Summary: Kirishima finds a friend on a late-night hair dye run. Little does everyone know this new friend staying with 1-A temporarily is a deaged villain, who doesn't know what he turned into in his old future. Can they carve him a new future?
Chapter Summary: Kirishima takes home a hair dye buddy without either of them realizing the implications.
Warnings: Attempted Stealing Mention, Fighting Mention, Cursing, Injury Mention, Drunk Mention, Child Abuse Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.
Notes: Thoughts look like ‘this’.
Hair Dye Buddies: Chapter 1
Kirishima really never thought he'd be in this position. But his roots were nearly two inches now and he'd made the excuse of wearing a hat far too often lately. It was better to just get it done. Just a quick run for some hair bleach and his usual red dye.
While there, he saw a boy his age looking at brown hair dyes, wearing a hoodie with the hood covering his hair. Hah! So he wasn't the only one on a midnight hair dye run. He looked like he was having problems as he read over the instructions.
"Find a good one?" He asked.
'Great way to start a conversation with the poor dude, Eijiro.' Big blue eyes looked up like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. Kind of like a kid in trouble.
"Huh? Oh, I um...I don't know which one will work." The other seemed more than shy, almost like he hadn't expected someone to notice him, or for everyone to ignore him. Like he was used to it.
"Sorry for buggin ya man. Ya know, that brand wears out easy. This one stays longer." He tapped the light brown box of dye of the brand he'd picked. The boy put back the other box and hesitantly took the brown box of dye he'd recommended.
He seemed rather skittish even while Kirishima checked out and he saw the kid putting the dye in his jacket. Oh. OH. He was skittish because he didn't have money for the dye. Kirishima went back to him and tapped his shoulder, earning a wince but the kid looked at him and scared eyes got impossibly more frightened.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll put it back." The kid promised.
"Hey, it's no big deal. I get it, okay? Here." He stuck his hand out and the kid handed him the brown dye with bandaged hands. "C'mon." Kirishima led him to the registers and paid for the brown dye and handed it to him.
"Thank you." The kid whispered.
"No problem! I hope it turns out well, man." Kirishima smiled brightly and the kid headed out quickly and Kirishima followed, coming out to see a burly guy bugging the kid.
"You think you can just change your hair color to hide from me!?" Kirishima didn't quite think, setting his hair dye down and rushing to take the punch the kid was about to take with his hardening practically breaking the guy's hand.
"You've got an attack dog now!?" The guy yelled.
"Fuck off dude! He's a kid!" Eijiro snapped at the guy.
"He owes me!" The guy roared.
"He doesn't owe you shit, he's just a kid!" The hero-in-training snapped back.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." The kid tried to apologize for his new involvement.
"It's okay, kid." Eijiro assured him. "Why's this guy bothering you?"
"He hurt me after he said I could stay with him. I ran away. I was trying to hide." The kid told him.
"You're safe, kid. I won't let him near you." He promised.
"Gimme the kid! He got hurt because he owes me!" Kirishima decked the guy and he was down for the count now.
"I'm sorry." The kid apologized again.
"It's okay. I'm a hero-in-training. It's my job to protect people like you from guys like him." The kid handed him his bag with his bleach and dye.
"You put this down." The kid whispered.
"Thanks, dude. You wanna walk this guy to the station with me and I'll get you home?" Eijiro asked.
"I should be fine."
"Come on, kid." He led him along to the station and dropped the guy off. "Now where do you live?" The kid looked around to find an exit and it hit him harder than he thought it should. The guy who hassled him had housed him. He ran away. He didn't have a home to take him back to.
"Come on, kid." He began leading him to UA, texting Aizawa that he had a friend coming over. "My name's Kirishima, by the way. Kirishima Eijiro." He smiled at his new friend.
"Todoroki Touya." The kid whispered.
"Huh, I didn't know Shoto had a cousin named Touya." Kirishima muttered.
"Shoto is my brother." Touya told him.
"Oh, then I could have Mr. Aizawa extend your stay as a family visit!" Kirishima smiled, hugging him close.
"Okay." Touya quietly followed and looked up at the UA building before Kirishima faced him toward the dormitories across from it. Aizawa was waiting for them, cat in arms and looking quite unhappy.
"Heyo, Mr. Aizawa, here's Touya. Harmless as a fly." Touya looked at the Pro Hero and waved a bit.
"And you said he's your 'bestie' and 'hair dye buddy'?" Aizawa asked groggily.
"Yes, sir! He's just visiting for a bit. I also happened to find out he's one of Todoroki's brothers on the way here." Aizawa eyed him up and down.
"And I got a call from the station you turned in a man harassing him for a hold in the drunk tank?" Aizawa asked.
"Yeah, the guy was reeking of booze and Touya here is like half his size and I came out to see this guy buggin' Touya saying he couldn't just change his hair color to hide." Kirishima explained.
"What did that guy mean, Touya?" Aizawa was now leading them to the dorms.
"Well, I mean. My father kicked me out about a month ago and that guy found me and took me home two weeks ago but all he did was treat me like a maid and would hit me all the time. I thought maybe if I ran away and dyed my hair he'd forget about me." Touya was quiet, which helped with the dorms they were passing by.
"Shitty Hair, you're finally back. I wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to dye my hair brown next time you dye yours...red." Bakugou stopped when he saw Aizawa and Touya. "Okay, tell me why I see a goth Todoroki. And where's his scar?" Touya looked at Bakugou and looked confused.
"Bakugou, this is Touya, Todoroki's brother. He's going to be staying in the dorms temporarily until we reach a good decision of where he's going." Bakugou's brows furrowed.
"Alright. Anyway. Kiri, about my hair. Next time can you pick up light to medium brown and make my hair look like my dad's?"
"Yeah, sure!"
"Bakugou." Touya piped up.
"What, Cotton Candy?" Bakugou asked.
"Here." he handed the box of brown dye to Bakugou. "I was going to dye my hair to hide from a creep but I guess I don't really need to anymore since Kirishima turned him in. It's light brown."
"I like this one. We're stealing him into our friend group, Eijiro." Katsuki announced.
"I had a feeling you'd like him." Eijiro smiled, dragging Bakugou along to his room with Touya and Aizawa following behind.
"What's up, Old Man, you wanna supervise or something?" Bakugou asked as he opened the brown box of dye.
"I'd actually like to talk to Touya about his father and what happened." Aizawa told him.
"Oh, it's okay if they know, I don't mind." Touya whispered.
"You said your father kicked you out. Why is that?" Aizawa asked. Bakugou looked furious now and Kirishima seemed mad. Touya shrunk into himself even before he answered.
"Shoto is his prodigy, he doesn't need me anymore. And, when he gets tired of his toys, he destroys them. He beat me within an inch of my life and threw me out. I survived on my own for two weeks and then that guy, Ryuu, found me and took me to his house. He kept me like a maid and would beat me if things weren't perfect. I ran away from him this afternoon and I was going to change my hair color and run away to somewhere else." Touya admitted.
"Alright. So we'll be keeping you here until we can find a suitable housing situation. How old are you?"
"16, I turn 17 in January." Touya confirmed.
"So while you're here, I'll have you enrolled and you'll be staying with my class for the foreseeable future. Given you've already made friends on this level, there's an empty room next to Bakugou's that'll become yours and I'll put a chair in the classroom for you." Aizawa told him. "Now I'm sure Bakugou and Kirishima can help you with a lot for now, I need to sleep and so do you kids after you're done with the hair dye. If you have any injuries, follow me back to the teacher dorms to be healed by Recovery Girl, but, otherwise, you can stay here." Aizawa added.
"Get some sleep, Mr. Aizawa!" Kirishima called after him.
"Be quiet." Came someone's reaction before the trio burst out laughing and went down to the commons to do Kirishima and Bakugou's hair.
"Okay, so I need to bleach my roots first and you don't need bleach." Kirishima began and Touya, for the first time in his life, felt like he was home even as Bakugou sat with brown dye finishing in his hair and Kirishima was washing out the bleach and drying his hair out for his own color. He felt wanted, finally.
Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka
#mha#my hero academia#bnha#boku no hero academia#deaged dabi#deaged todoroki touya#kirishima eijiro#dabi#todoroki touya#aizawa shouta#katsuki bakugou#snoweywrites#hair dye buddies au#tw stealing mention#tw fighting mention#tw cursing#tw injury mention#tw drunk mention#tw child abuse mention
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dom!Twice x Reader
summary: Jin and you bumped into each other khm, the attraction evident coming from both sides. Despite you being a hero you can't resist him and you end up together in a hotel room.
->While this wasn't a previously discussed dynamic, Twice is just being rough but its consensual nonetheless. Take care of your Doms/Partners on each occasion, even while having one night stands, someone might need you💕
⚠️warnings⚠️ : voyeurism (two people watching and jacking off /it's a dirty hotel room why r u surprised), degradation, spanking, facefuck, female eating out a male, threesome (with a clone), rough to gentle (twice is a sweetheart and needs to be loved), unprotected sex/creampie.
A/N: this was a paid 6k word commission however for a male!reader (during a blm protest) and much more filthy and taboo but taking from the messages and triggered ppl in my asks and on wattpad, some ppl aren't comfortable with extreme topics so i won't be posting the full story (fuck it i added Jin sucking a guy off... i had to) because the "hate" I get makes me rly insecure about some kinks. Also Jin sucks a guys dick here. Be warned. It's wholesome tho.Kinda.
edit:male version here-> http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/25896667?view_adult=true
Sry for the long intro, enjoy.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
You've been strolling down the streets in hopes of getting back home before the curfew, not having the strength or the luxury to get caught by the cops.
Moving through familiar streets, you found yourself wondering off to today's events, the protests thankfully not becoming too dangerous and hazardous, making your heart flush in small victory.
Your attention was snapped back to reality as you heard a familiar gagging sound, and a loud, angry groan followed after it. Your eyes darted to the source of the filthy sounds, gulping once you managed to make out two bodies in the dark. A blonde-haired man choking on a fat black cock as what's supposedly spurts of cum coated his throat. The semen slowly spilled down the blonde’s lips and the tall man above him pulled the blonde up by his hair. The black man dipped his finger into the blonde’s mouth and glided it on his tongue, smearing the sticky liquid before connecting their lips before disappearing around the block.
His hooded eyes turned to look at you, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips.
Gulping down the cum down his throat, he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before slowly walking to your frozen form.
He reached for your hand, smiling brightly before introducing himself to you.
"Name's Jin, It's really nice to meet you," he said, looking you up and down, tongue swiping along his bottom lip.
"Y/N, I'm sorry for interrupting" a chuckle left his lips as he shook your hand.
"Oh none of that, I should be thanking you, it tripled my fun..you here for the protests, right?" you nod, your hand falling back down.
"I am. You support them?"
"In my own way apparently, now let's go, we have 5 minutes, I know a hotel nearby" he rushed out, motioning for you to follow.
You stared in confusion before realization hit you, quickly checking the time before rushing off to catch up with him.
He fumbled with his wallet, going to the register and dumping a few crumbled bills on the counter.
The hotel was dirty and smelly, the furniture in the waiting hall dusty and probably washed a decade ago.
"You can wait here until we prepare the room, with this money, you leave at 6 am sharp." the guy behind the counter rang for the staff, sending them off to unlock the room and change the sheets( at least that will be clean )
Jin and you sat on the dusty couch, him already familiar and comfortable, spreading his legs and laying back.
He fumbled with his lighter and the pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
The crappy hotel was full of people rushing in and out of their rooms, borrowing/stealing stuff from one another, and when you took note of it, it looked more like a homeless shelter.
You wondered how many times did he stay in here, maybe even lived here.
"So...you don't like heroes huh?"
"Pft, I resent all people equally...though I make exceptions for those with a fat ass" he mumbled, straining his neck to look you up.
"And you pass the requirements" he laid back down, choking out the cigarette on the couch.
The maid came back shortly, giving you a key and directing you to a room on one of the top floors.
You pressed the elevator button, Jin following you suit as he stood close to you.
You turned your eyes to the numbers on the elevator suddenly interested in the worn-out digits on the metal buttons.
"You know, now that you're standing in this light, you look tasty all over..." his hot breath ghosted over your neck, his arm slipping down to clutch at your hip, pulling you against him.
"And you're so small I could eat you all up...push you down and pound into that fat pussy of yours."
his hand moved lower, grabbing a handful of your cheeks and kneading them in his palms.
You made no move to stop the man, the thought of the elevator opening as he was about to slip his hand in your pants made you swallow a lump in your throat, your cunt throbbing as you imagined the look on whoever was unlucky enough to stumble upon the two of you.
"You look so committed to your little acts of bravery, let's see how committed you are to sucking a cock" the elevator door opened, the floor you reached empty.
His hand tangled in your locks, pushing you out into the hall and forcing you to your knees.
His musky scent filled your nostrils as he pushed you against his clothed bulge, rubbing your face against a wet spot damping his sweats.
"I'm not gonna teach you how to do it, it's not gonna bite" he snarled, watching the way your hand reached up to pull at his sweatpants.
"That's a smart girl, go ahead" he hummed in approval, his hips jerking forward as you grabbed the front of his sweats, tugging the material along with his boxers.
His length hooked on his clothes, snapping up with a quiet "pop" sound as you finally had the opportunity to see it in all its glory.
From the way his cock bulged in his restraints a second ago, you were already drooling at the imagination of it, the situation you were in also adding to your excitement, thinking if some weird lowlife creep could be watching the two of you from the dark.
You gave a teasing pump, your fist tightening around his shaft as he bucked his hips into your hand.
This man was definitely packing, your thighs clenching at the thought of it plowing in and out of your throat.
He watched you carefully, adoring the way your eyes glistened in hunger. Reaching a hand to hold it around your own that was wrapped at the base of
his cock, he guided his member along your lips, his other hand still keeping your head in place.
His wet cock prodded at your lips, your willing mouth stretching around him as he slowly pushed in all the way, your nose mushing against his navel as he removed both hands from his shaft.
You gagged around him, the urge to cough burning in your chest before he pushed you off to the tip.
Spit piled up in your mouth, slicking up his arousal, making it easier to slip right back in. Your nails dug in his hips, holding onto him as he rocked shallow thrust into your constricting throat. You tried your best to loll your tongue out, gliding it against the ridges of his member making him hum in pleasure. You began bobbing your head on your own, timing it with his thrusts as you tried to hold your breath in for a bit longer.
He pulled you off his cock completely, letting you catch a quick puff of air before sinking back in, continuing his assault on your mouth.
You slurped around him, a mess dripping down your lips and onto the floor as your spit dripped over his balls.
"That's a good cocksleeve...you really want someone to catch us huh...if you don't I advise you to try and keep the slurping down" he warned, rocking into you with more speed.
You only got louder, purposefully gagging and moaning as he fucked your face.
His thrusts were now timed and fast, each time almost pulling out before slamming back in, giving you hardly a second to time your breaths.
He smirked, biting his lip as he watched you gasp for air each time he blessed you with an opportunity.
His pubes were messy and long, tickling your nose as you closed your eyes, trying to focus on not losing too much air, already imagining his heavy taste on your tongue.
Your jaw ached and your throat was starting to go numb, begging in your head for him to cum already.
You whimpered and whined as he squeezed your cheeks around his cock, the additional friction of his fingers dipping into your flesh and rubbing against his member making him throw his head back.
"That's it, that's a good little slut...come one swallow around my cock, I want to feel you clench around it"
You did as you were told, gulping down around him, drinking in his sour precum and strings of heavy saliva.
You spread your knees, sinking lower, your aching pussy rubbing against the dirty hotel carpet, still fully covered by your pants.
"Oh, you get off on this too much you filthy shit...who knows who stepped foot on that disgusting rug..."
he all but whispered, finally stilling your head flush into his pubes, the veins on his cock twitching before warm liquid slid into the back of your throat, making you gush and cough around his length, him not pulling out until his cock stopped throbbing, only pushing deeper against you as you struggled to stay still.
Finally, he realizes his grip from your locks, letting you detach from his cock with a disgusting mix of a gag and groan. He cupped your chin with his palm, collecting anything that escaped your mouth and pushing in right back in, watching it dance on your tongue as he kept your mouth open.
"Really...I give you my cum and you have the guts to spit it out...what a shame." he roared, collecting some spit in his mouth before adding it to the mix in your own.
"Swallow." And you did, your sore throat hurting from the large gulp you took in.
"I'm gonna fuck you real good...you seem to like that carpet a lot..." he hooked his arms around you, spinning you and then throwing you face-first into the floor.
Your pants and panties are pulled down to your knees, your legs tied together as you brace yourself on your elbows.
"What, Jin? Is my pussy that-" you're tumbling forwards on your cheeks, the rug burning your chin as Twice slaps your ass.
"I don't like it when you talk, toys don't talk" with that he spat at your hole, prodding two of his fingers making your scream in pain, feeling like losing consciousness before coming back to your senses once you feel a weight on your face.
Jin's foot is pressing you down on the floor, his dirty boot mushing your face as he fingers you.
What you don't see is the two dudes on the far end of the hall watching the way your squirm for his cock.
Jin takes note of them, sending them a threatening but a teasing look, purposefully pushing his knuckles deep in your cunt. Your groan out, rutting your hips in his hold as you beg for him to give you more, finally used to the sudden stretch.
"Oh they sure are jealous of me don't ya think?" you struggled to snap your head back and see who he's talking about, the heel of his shoes pushing even harder against your skull. You grind your ass back, giving it a meaningful wiggle to show off to whoever he's talking about.
"C'mon Jin, don't let them wait, they'll think you don't know how to actually fuck" your cunt is filled with one well snap of his hips, not letting you comprehend how fast his fingers left your body or how fast was his hand now wrapped around your neck, both of his knees now settled between your thighs, pushing them further apart so your back arches down, your pants thrown off of your ankles somewhere around the hall.
You hiss at the roughness of his thrusts as you feel a hand covering your mouth.
"As much as I want to hear you scream and beg, you have too much of a bratty mouth to be left alone". One of his fingers dipped between your lips, letting you bite down on it as he pounded into you, his face never leaving the two intruders as he watched them rub their cocks over their pants.
They don't have the guts. They could never make you feel so good and wanted. They wouldn't know what to do if a delicious pussy like yours hit them in the face.
Both of his hands are on your head as he plows in and out of you, his hips slapping against your thighs, making perfect leverage to bounce against you.
You're trying your best to keep up, your arm reaching beneath youto flick at your clit.
Jin's kinda lost in the way your hips bounce, losing himself in the rhythm as you hear him mumbling incoherent words into his chin.
You don't have the time to pay attention to it, too lost in the way your pussy is being stretched and used.
You heard a snicker from the far end of the hall, a line of disgusting remarks as they whispered about recognizing Jin from the news, apparently "recognizing his disgusting stitched up forehead" comparing him to Frankenstein and other monstrous creatures.
You knew they were just boiling with jealousy, unable to get any as they were left to only masturbate as the two of you literally couldn't wait to enter your room that was only a few meters away.
"Oh I'm fucking you so good, you look really pretty with my cock in your cunt" "I'm so fucking disgusting, they should lock me up and leave me to rot"
He's not looking at those creeps anymore, his mind struggling as his hold on you loosens.
His thrusts are slowing down, your knees trembling as you have to come back down from the intense pace from seconds ago.
You pick yourself up, looking at Jin as he hides his head into his hand.
This must've been what he thought about when he talked about people not helping him fight his fights, judging and mocking even in these absurd situations, not even letting the man fuck in peace.
You reached for his hand, him flinching on instinct when your fingers tangle with his.
His eyes hold panic in them, aimlessly looking around as he bites his lip in order to stop words coming from his mouth.
While you loved being manhandled, what you loved even more is making people feel safe, so you wasted no time in picking up the keys and your clothes, sending a wink at those jerks as you pulled Jim into the room.
"My face, cover my face...it's gonna-" you closed the door behind you, sitting Jin onto the bed as you tried to see what's going on with him.
You sat yourself on his lower belly, leaning down to cup his face in your hands, leaning your forehead against his.
"Sorry handsome, but if anyone stormed in and saw me putting a pillowcase over your face, I don't think they would hold back on calling the cops..."
His eyes struggled to stay closed, his breaths deep and pained. You didn't know this man for long, but there was something really fucked up going on with his head. Your lips caught his, pushing your tongue in his mouth as you wrapped your legs around his back.
"That's good, you're a really tough guy c'mon...open your eyes for me." He did, his pupils trying to adjust to the pitch-black room.
"I know I might be butt ass naked and you literally have your cock out, but I'm willing to listen "
And you do...listening to him remble out all of the self-hatred he feels, degrading himself as he struggles to make sense of the biased sentences pouring out of his mouth.
"I'm only good for a quick fuck, that's the only thing I can somewhat do right" while indeed you really looked forward to getting your guts rearranged, you found yourself involved in this man, deciding to be the first person to show him kindness and passion.
You made him lay on his back, seating yourself between his legs as he covered his face with a pillow, his ramblings never coming to a stop.
"Hey...You're not gonna split, see... I'm right here" you said reaching your arms to place on each side of his hips.
"Have you ever tried doing something that feels good for you...apart from literally fucking my throat...but you know...letting someone treat you?” you asked, kissing along his chest as you awaited his response.
He shook his head no, head poking over the pillow, his mind focusing on your moves.
You nodded, leaving light kisses along his salty skin.
"The reason those assholes kept talking must've been because they were jealous of your ass, I'm sure of it" you stated matter of factly before dipping your head to kiss at his thighs.
"I don't think that's-" "Fuck yeah, I'd eat it myself if I had the chance" you chuckled at his response, wrapping your hand around his length as you dipped your tongue down his balls.
"Yeah...I'll have to agree with the second one...everyone would, if given the chance, how convenient" your wet tongue prodded at his hole, dipping in only slightly before coming back up to his cock, licking up a heavy strip along his veins as you heard him swallow.
You slammed your face back into his ass, moving your hands from spreading his cheeks further apart to grabbing his hips as you pulled yourself into him. Sticking your tongue out you began licking up and down his hole as you continued to grind your face against his backside, reveling in the smell and taste of it.
"Yeah, lick that ass you whore, you take it so well..." his hand covered his mouth in surprise, eyes wide as you looked up.
You were breathing in deep, licking hungrily, everywhere, every inch of his exposed puckered skin, your hand now giving lazy strokes to his cock.
You close your eyes, enjoying the rhythm his body swayed in against you, all but riding your face as he struggled not to speak.
You continue applying pressure with your tongue, getting deeper, centimeter by centimeter. As you are applying pressure with your tongue you press your lips around his ass and make open-mouthed kissing motions, effectively massaging the area around his hole with your full lips.
The pleasure he felt made him feel all that more guilty, eyes squinting as he tried to think.
Maybe he could do it, he's just gonna make one... He won't get lost...he knows who he is...you know who the real Jin is, you have to know.
You feel a light push at your hole, struggling to look back as Jin's hand keeps you squashed against his hairy hole.
"Clones, I make clones" he tries to explain in a hurry, his head buzzing up again once you hum against his crack.
"Ooh that's a pretty little hole, you sure that's for me boss?" a voice quite similar to Jin's sound from being you, rubbing the tip of his flush cock against you.
As Jin doesn't respond, your balance is interrupted, your face suffocating between his thighs.
"Oh she's so tight boss, you sure you don't want some of this?" the clone asks mockingly, his hips snapping forwards with great force, each thrust feeling like a completely new one as he pulls all the way out, making irregular pauses to keep you guessing about when will you get his cock again.
You try to snicker a bratty remark but you don't manage to detach from Jin as the clone begins to shove his heavy cock in and out of you.
"Disgusting little cunt do you have here...it's making a mess of my pretty cock...how filthy" he scolds, his palm meeting with your flesh, stinging sensation burning up through your body.
One of your fingers slips pass your tongue, making Jin's soft walls twitch as you pump the digit slowly.
"Damn boss, you let her play you like that?" the clone mocks, grinding your ass against his dick.
Jin doesn't respond as you push more fingers in, stretching him open as you bounce against the clones cock, your clit pink and puffy since you still didn't get to cum.
Jin's close, his breath hitching in his throat as you abuse the soft patch of flesh in his ass, your tongue still silking up the fingers plowing into him.
Your hand speeds up on his cock, small pumps focusing on his tip as you urge for him to release.
His clone is now still inside you as he looks at Jin, smirking once he sees him spurting ropes of cum into your hand, white liquid pooling in your fist as you continue to stroke him, your fingers pressed snuggly in his hole.
Jin takes a moment to catch his breath, his copy waiting for his orders as he takes your hands away from him.
He finds his place beside you, reaching his hand to flick at your clit.
The clone sets a brutal pace, Jin's palm securing against your clit as you rut into it.
"Yeah, make me cum, make me cream all over, c'mon" you spur them on, fisting the sheets as the bed creeks from the three of you.
Jin watches in aww as you lose yourself on the clone's cock, violently meeting the thrusts and chasing Jin's fingers.
"Good slut, you're gonna cum when I fill up your ass c'mon"
The clone goes feral, his hands kneading and digging into your fat, groaning and praising the way your ass sucks him up, his thrusts sloppy and uneven as he chases his release.
Just as the first wave of warm liquid fills your pussy up, you're clenching down on his cock, Jin's hand flicking in a hurry as he stares at your blessed out face. Your hips are jerking and trashing as the final throb of your cunt ruins the sheets, the clones cock slipping out to stare at your contracting hole, the soft flesh spasming around nothing.
Jin eventually lays down, pulling your body next to his as the clone leaves, rubbing your back in soothing circles.
"I...thanks" he whispers in your hair, reaching for the covers as he drapes them over both of you.
He'll be seeing you again.
i remember telling someone i won't be doing twice soon but...commission is a commission and the idea also caught my attention
___________
Requests:closed
commission:open (1 slot)
Ko-fi link is in my bio💕
#mha fanfiction#twice x reader lemon#twice x reader#villan x reader#bnha#mha#jin x reader lemon#jin bubaigawara x reader#jin x reader
390 notes
·
View notes
Text
His and Hers
Requested by Anon: “Sandor x Pregnant! Reader”
You never enjoyed the death matches. You weren’t a fan of blood and gore, but you especially hated the “trials by combat”. You weren’t sure how exactly slicing the head off of another man proved your innocence. You sat next to your older half sister, the reigning Queen Regent, right in the front row. She was in much better spirits since her husband had died and her son crowned King. She had never been cruel to you, her attention was usually focused on Tyrion, but she had now been almost kind to you in the time since becoming widowed.
“Lady Lannister,” You heard from your side. You couldn’t help the smile that came across your face when you looked up at the large man who had appeared at your side. His place was technically by the King, but no one would question if he stood by the Queen’s sister. He had been charged with guarding your chambers more than a few times. That’s when you had gotten to know him. But it wasn’t until last night that you had first kissed him. You smiled a bit wider remembering it.
“Nice to see you, Hound,” You said. You saw his mouth twitch, but he kept his mask of stoicism. You couldn’t help but think what would have happened last night had you not been interrupted by your brother knocking on your door. You wondered if he would have taken you right there in your chambers. You were hoping he would. He had seemed just as disappointed as you were when he had to pull away and stand in the corner of your room, pretending he hadn’t been on top of you in your bed just moments before when Jamie entered the room. Jamie didn’t question why the Hound was there, he assumed he was doing his job and protecting you. You hoped he would be assigned to guard your room again tonight. Maybe then he would finish what you started last night.
If it were your choice, you would grab his hand and take him back to the castle. You were sure he would rather be there too, knowing how he felt about his brother. He had told you how much he hated seeing the Mountain and he was once again the champion for the King in today’s trial against a Dornish man who was accused of stealing from the Red Keep.
The usual cheers came for the Mountain as he entered the arena. Any hint of a smile left the Hound’s face immediately. Boos rang out over the crowd as the Dornish man was pushed into the center. He was a big man, not as tall as the Mountain but at least as wide. Maybe he would have a shot. The Mountain did his usual rounds, getting cheers louder for him. The Dornish man took the opportunity to lunge towards the Mountain, toppling him over. The Dornish man held his own for just a moment, but the Mountain flipped them over, sitting his whole weight on the man’s chest. He squeezed the man’s head with both hands. You gasped, grabbing onto the Hound’s arm in surprise as the Mountain ripped the man’s head off of his body, the spine coming with it as blood poured onto the ground. You felt sick to your stomach. The whole thing lasted less than a minute. At least it was over.
You realized your hand was still on the Hound’s arm and you pulled away, placing your hands in your lap.
“Well, that was quick,” Cersei said with that polite smile of hers. “The Gods must not have wanted their time wasted.”
“Or the Mountain is just a beast,” You said. Your sister shot you a look.
The King stood up, clapping excitedly with his wicked grin on his face, his betrothed looking as horrified as you felt next to him in her chair. “Gregor Clegane, a good show as always. How many battles have you championed for my family? Over a hundred I expect.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” The Mountain confirmed.
“It is high time you were properly rewarded,” The King said graciously. You heard an annoyed laugh from the Hound next to you. “You are a man I would be disappointed to see be the last of his line. You may have your pick of a wife, I’ll seek out the most beautiful women in King’s Landing for you.”
You felt sick to your stomach. Of course, Joffrey’s idea of fun was torturing some helpless woman by wedding her to the most cruel and violent man in the country. It wasn’t enough that he had that poor Stark girl torment. You had never liked your nephew. You were closer in age to him than to his mother, he had no respect for you.
“Any woman?” The Mountain asked.
“Be sure to pick one with some lands and a good name,” King Joffrey smirked. “Get your money’s worth, Clegane.” The Mountain’s face split into a grin as horrible as Joffrey’s. You realized he was looking right at you.
“That one,” He said, pointing a blood stained finger at you. You saw the Hound clutch the hilt of his sword beside you.
King Joffrey clapped again gleefully as you looked to your sister. Even her eyes were wide in fear for you, and she didn’t even like you all that much. “My son,” She said, her tone warning, but Joffrey ignored her as he came over to you, pulling you out of your seat and towards the arena.
“My dear aunt, a wonderful choice,” He said as he nearly pulled your arm out of its socket dragging you into the arena. You could smell the death that clung to the air as the hem of your dress dragged in the blood. Joffrey shoved you into the Mountain and the beast swung you up into his arms, holding you like a prize. You stared back helplessly at the Hound as the crowd cheered.
*
His bandaged knuckles throbbed as he took a swig from his wineskin. The Hound sat on a bottom step, the noise from the feast still audible. He had to resist throwing a punch into the stone wall of the corridor. His bed chambers were still a wreck, his table in several pieces. The maids were too terrified of him to try and enter. If the Hound thought that he was angry the day after the betrothal, when he had beaten his own hands bloody on his walls, it was nothing compared to how he felt after watching you stand before the everyone in the sept, draped in the cloak of his house, declaring that you were now his brother’s property.
He had barely seen you before the wedding and part of him felt like that was the Queen’s doing. He was sure that she knew how he felt about you. He thought that he had hidden it well, trying not to let his eyes linger on you for too long. Maybe he was always too ready to take guard duty by your chambers, or too pleased when she ordered him to walk you through the city when you asked to venture off.
The Hound had wanted to kiss you for some time now. He had been surprised when you had done it that night, just a week ago. Gods, it felt so much longer. If he could, he would go back to that night and take you away. Or at least tell the Kingslayer to fuck off.
Almost as if summoned by his thoughts of you, you turned the corner to the corridor he sat in. You spotted him, your face breaking into a soft smile as you walked towards him.
“I was wondering where you had wandered off to,” You said, standing above him where he sat on the step. You weren’t used to looking down at him. “Plenty of ale in the dining hall.”
“No offense, milady,” The Hound said, still not looking at you. “But I’d rather get my balls ripped off by a direwolf.”
“You think it’s fun for me?” You said, anger rising in your chest. You didn’t know why he was upset at you. You didn’t want to be married to Gregor Clegane. You had no say in the goings on of your life. Your father had tried to sway the King, but Joffrey was changing his mind. You suspected Tywin hadn’t tried all that hard anyways.
“Didn’t say it was,” The Hound said, taking another sip. “He’s going to beat you bloody.”
“You’re being a dick,” You said, your hands on your hips. He gave a humorless laugh. “You’re acting like you don’t even care. You always act like you don’t care.”
“You think I don’t care?” The Hound said, rising up to his full height, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. You knew he would never hurt you. He could never hurt you. “You think I don’t want to kill my brother?”
“You always want to kill your brother, Sandor, that’s nothing new.” Any time you used his name, his real name, his jaw tensed. No one called him anything other than “hound” or “dog”.
“He will hurt you and that little cunt Joffrey thinks it’s a game, a joke.” The Hound grabbed your arms with his large hands, startling you. “He doesn’t deserve to call you his wife.”
“I don’t want to be his wife,” You said, reaching up to touch the burned flesh of his face and he let you.
“You don’t want to be mine either,” He said firmly, grabbing your wrist.
“Why not?”
“You need a good man,” He said. “And there aren’t any here.”
You stood on your toes, lifting yourself just enough to kiss him. He stooped to pick you up, his arms wrapped around your waist. He carried you into the next corridor. You could still hear your wedding feast as you kissed your groom’s brother. He pressed you into the rough brick wall and you wrapped your legs around his waist, your wedding gown racked up to your thighs.
“I may be his wife,” You said breathlessly as he kissed your neck. “But I’m yours. From this day until the end of my days.” You said these words earlier in the sept but now you felt the meaning of them as the Hound’s lips stilled on your neck.
“Aye,” He said finally, kissing your lips. “You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine.”
“And I’m yours. Til the end of my days and all that shit.”
You threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him as fiercely as you could. You didn’t care that someone could easily turn the corner and find you in a very compromising position with the king’s bodyguard.
“I need you,” You whispered, your teeth raking his ear lobe. He groaned his hands sliding further up your legs to grab your ass.
“Here?”
“Here.”
His hand slid in between your legs, feeling the pooling wetness there. “You’re fucking dripping, milady,” He said, smugness edging his tone. He liked that he had that effect on you.
“Sandor,” You begged, hitting his shoulder with your fist lightly. “We don’t-,” He cut you off, slipping two large fingers until you and making you gasp. He watched your face, a smirk playing at his lips as he rubbed you from the inside out. You bit your lip to keep from crying out when his thumb found your clit. He kissed you roughly, rubbing faster and faster until you moaned into his mouth as you came.
He wasted no time in undoing his pants, just enough to shove his hard cock into you full hilt. You couldn’t help the near scream you let out as he filled you, your nails grabbing at his chainmail armor. He clapped his hand over your mouth as he thrust into you.
“Keep quiet,” He warned with a grunt. The brick scraped at the skin on your back that your gown didn’t cover but even that felt good. You liked that you would be able to feel him even later.
His fingers felt like fire across your thighs as he gripped you tightly, his thrusts becoming wilder as he got closer. You wished that you could have your wedding night with him, in a large bed where you could curl into him afterwards, but this sloppy and quick encounter would be enough. For now.
He moved to hold you with both hands, kissing you hard. “Fuck, you feel so good,” He grunted.
“Finish inside me,” You said, making him groan. You were trying to remember every inch of him, from the way he stretched you to the way his beard scraped at your face. “I want to feel it, Sandor.”
You felt a shudder run through him as he released into you, holding you tight to make sure you didn’t fall to the ground. He rested his head in the crook of your neck for a brief moment.
He finally set you back down on your feet, letting your gown fall back into place. You could feel the stickiness creep down your thighs and it almost made you want to go again, but you knew you didn’t have time.
The Hound bent to kiss you again, his hand cupping your face. He knew what would happen later that night and he didn’t want to think of it. He wanted to just keep thinking of how good you felt around him, saying his name in that breathy moan of yours.
“Lady Clegane,” You heard from the main corridor. You gave the Hound’s hand a gentle squeeze as you saw the look on his face. You were a Clegane now, taken under the family’s cloak. It just stung more than he ever thought it could.
You walked out, the Hound shortly behind you, finding Podrick looking around the corridor. He gave the Hound a frightened look before looking back at you. “Sorry, milady, Lord Tyrion asked me to find you.”
“Yes, of course, thank you,” You said. With another side eyed glance at the Hound, Podrick turned back and left for the dining hall.
You felt the Hound’s rough hand on your shoulder, fixing the back of your gown that had gotten mussed during your encounter. You looked back at him, offering him a gentle smile, but he avoided your eyes.
“Better get back, Lady Clegane.”
*
He couldn’t stay away from you. He tried. Gods know he tried. He hated thinking about you sharing his brother’s bed, knowing exactly what Gregor would do to you. What was worse was knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t until nearly a fortnight after the wedding that he finally swallowed his pride and sought you out, going to the chambers you now shared with the Mountain when he knew that the Mountain would be off somewhere, killing someone in the name of the Lannisters.
You had been so happy to see the Hound that you nearly forgot how miserable you had been since your wedding. You didn’t even speak, you just pounced on him. The arrangement wasn’t ideal, but at least you got the Hound, even if it was just stolen moments that you could sneak away. Sometimes you even got lucky, when Gregor had to go off on a task set forth by King Joffrey, you were able to spend the night with the Hound, wrapped in his arms, in his bed, sleepy and sated after he had fucked you until you screamed his name, forgetting that he wasn’t the Clegane you had married. Your husband had his whores, you had his brother.
“If we left right now,” You had said, on one of these nights, the Hound’s hand tracing circles on your back lazily as you laid your head on his broad, hairy chest. “We could make it at least to Stokeworth before anyone even realized we were gone.”
“Is that what you want?” The Hound asked, his eyes already closed. He always fell asleep almost immediately after he finished.
The question had thrown you. Of course it was what you wanted. You had fantasized about it every moment since you took your vows. Except it would come at a price. Yes, here, you had to be married to that awful beast of a man, but you if you ran away, you would never see your family again. Even if your sister was standoffish and her first born a spoiled shit, you still loved your brothers, and your niece and nephew. You hated to think what would happen to sweet Mrycella and Tommen if left alone here. They were good children, you didn’t want to see them grow into the same sort as their elder brother. Not to mention, you would spend the rest of your lives with a bounty on your head, living in fear of being caught.
“I want to be on top this time,” You had said instead, rolling over onto the Hound.
“Again?” He had chuckled under you, squeezing your hips. He had grunted when you slid his quickly hardening cock back into you. It was a good enough distraction, it kept you from having to burst your bubble.
Until now.
You were good at keeping the peace. It was what your father said you were best at, in fact. But even you couldn’t calm Gregor Clegane when he was in a rage. Over something stupid, as well. A lost bet. The Maester said you were lucky he hadn’t broken any bones when he had flung you across the room. Just bruised and a bit bloody, but after you were bandaged up, you were free to go back to your chambers. You were safe, as well, as Gregor had been called away by the King, yet again, sent to Harrenhal. But it wasn’t it the bruises or wounds or even your husband that weighed on you. It was the news that the Maester had for you.
You walked in the exact opposite direction of your chambers, towards the Red Keep where you knew the Hound would be standing guard outside the King’s door. Normally, you were much more discreet, never daring to visit him when you knew your nephew could see, but you needed to see him and it needed to be now.
You turned the corner, feeling the weight on your chest lightening just slightly when you saw him. He had heard you coming, his hand on his sword just in case you had been a threat, but when he saw it was you, his hand dropped. When he saw the bandages, he stepped away from his post.
“What in the hells happened?” He asked, his hand on your cheek. You placed your hand over his, looking up at him. You didn’t even need to answer for his jaw to tense. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking-,”
“Sandor,” You said softly. “We need to leave, tonight.”
The Hound stared at you, studying your face to try to tell if you were serious. “You want to leave?”
“We need to leave,” You corrected. You kept your voice low, pulling him away from the door. “Gregor won’t be back for a few days, if we leave right when your watch ends-,”
“What happened?” The Hound asked.
You took a deep breath. You still hadn’t quite processed what the Maester had told you just moments before, it didn’t feel real. But you needed to say it and say it now, otherwise he would overhear when the Maester no doubt told Cersei and you couldn’t think of a worse way for him to find out. “I’m pregnant,” You said, your hands placed on your still flat stomach. You don’t think you had ever seen such genuine fear on his face. “Sandor?” You asked.
“And you don’t know if…,” He trailed off. You didn’t need to hear the rest of his question to know what it was. It had been your first thought as well.
“There’s no way to know, not for sure,” You said. “But if you come with me, if you leave with me tonight, it doesn’t matter, not to me. You’re mine, remember? And I’m yours. I love you, with my whole heart I do, but I need to leave tonight. I’ll go with or without you, but please, don’t make me go without you.” You could feel yourself rambling, the tears starting to fall down your cheeks. He stared at you, dumbfounded. You showed him countless times how much you cared for him, but this was the first time he heard it, heard those words, I love you. You wondered if he had ever heard those words before in his life.
“I’ll leave with you,” He said finally. You pulled him down, kissing his lips with as much force as you could. He lifted you off your feet, holding you close. “You’re mine, it’s mine.”
*
You stretched your arms high above you, feeling your sore back crack. The morning sun beamed in from the small window of the cottage. You laughed slightly as you looked at the empty side of the bed next to you. You struggled to your feet, wrapping your dressing gown around yourself. You knew exactly where to find the Hound.
You could already hear the swing of the hammer before you walked outside. It was such a common sound now a days, it hadn’t even woken you.
“Sandor,” You said with a laugh. “It was fine yesterday. It was fine the day before. And the day before that. If you keep fucking with it, it’ll just be a pile of kindling by the time the baby gets here.”
The Hound didn’t even look up from the excellently built crib as he kneeled in front of it, examining it for imperfections that weren’t there but he was convinced he could find. “What do you know about crib building?”
“What do you?”
“Exactly,” He grumbled.
You walked over to him and patted his head as he stared at the crib. He sighed, plopping down onto the grass in front of it. You lowered yourself into his lap, with some difficulty. He placed his hand on your large stomach absently as he looked at his creation. Any time you were near him, it was like his hand was drawn to the child inside of you. He even slept with his arm tightly around you.
“What if it breaks when she’s in there?” He asked.
“It’s not going to break,” You said. “And I still think he’s a boy.”
“And you’re wrong.”
“I’m the one carrying the damned thing,” You laughed.
“So? Doesn’t mean shit,” He said.
“You just don’t like my name.”
“James is a cunt name, no, I don’t like it,” The Hound said. “I’ve killed men named James, I’m not naming my son James.”
“So you decided that means we’re having a daughter then?”
“No, I think we’re having a daughter because we’re having a fucking daughter,” The Hound said. He finally looked away from the crib, looking back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he saw you smiling at him. “Hope to whatever stupid God is listening she gets your looks, though.”
#the hound x reader#the hound#sandor clegane x reader#sandor clegane x you#sandor clegane#sandor clegane fanfiction#sandor clegane smut#got#got smut#got fanfiction#got reader insert#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfiction#fanfic#smut#the hound smut#the hound x you
509 notes
·
View notes
Note
The way you described Dark in the age headcanon post is so accurate oh my lord. Can we have some general headcanons for him? You don't have to if you don't want to, thank you in advance! Have a nice day
sure!! dark's one of my favorite creepypastas, even if he technically isn't one :) i hope you have a nice day too!!
- Darks an ambivert: some days he'll be hiding in his room with a bag of chips, blaring shitty rock music through a stolen speaker, or he'll be out and about the Manor running around and flirting with everyone in sight, or playing video games with the others. it's really a wild card with him most days
- this fuckers got the ego AND the sex drive of a college student who had way too much attention growing up. he thinks he can pull anyone and everything. honestly i wouldn't be surprised if he had a kid somewhere
- i don't have too many headcanons about his origin; i like to think of him as some entity who escaped the Zelda games and just kinds caused chaos online until BEN stumbled across him. that or BEN found him in a Zelda game and just kinda took him home to the Manor
- he's really into fast-paced shooter games. sometimes he twitch streams them with BEN. he's not as serious about streaming as BEN is, but he still thinks it's fun to do
- he's a slut for catgirls. no im not arguing
- if you happened to go out with Dark, expect a lot of pranks being pulled on you. or you two pulling pranks together. did i mention he's a little shit? well he is
- if you have anything that could be used as blackmail, he will find it, and he'll use it against you no matter what it is. he doesn't care about you getting mad, he cares about getting you in a maid costume finding out all your dirty little secrets
- he's a huge fan of japanese food; any chance he gets he's ordering it and hiding it from anyone else
- he's BESTIES with BEN and Jeff. besties.
- honestly he's probably streamed high a few times
- scratch that. he's definitely streamed high a few times
- he likes to steal money from around the Manor and then buy those really cool looking bongs, then try his hardest to not get that bong stolen or smashed by the others. he can only do so much.
- he's like 5'11 but because Jeff is AN INCH taller than him, he's constantly getting shit from Jeff about it. bastard
- his sleep schedule? fucked. doesn't exist
- okay but adding onto that he doesn't really need sleep; he's basically a computer virus with a sex drive. the only times he sleeps is when he's done something really physically exhausting, he's sad or bored, or he just wants to be left alone
- he's the time of person to make a 5 hour long " depression sad times " playlist after a minor inconvenience
32 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
