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v3nusxsky · 1 year

Note

Hello love your writing :))

I wanted to ask if you could write a story either about Larissa or Lucifer, they need to punish their partner and they use „longterm“ denial over a whole weekend and reader is just yearning for release after the weekend and Larissa/Lucifer gets soft after the fulfilled punishment and give them the best orgasm ever :)) you can involve other punishment methods as well :) but some cute fluff and praise at the end would be great :) thank you 🔥🥰

Be my good doll 18+

*Authors note~ i choose Larissa purely bc I don’t feel I can write lucifer well but may I highly suggest my darling friend @littledollll who will be able to handle a luci version <3*

Trigger warnings~ long term orgasm denial, mommy kink daddy kink shifted cock oral very smutty smut

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

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For the past two days all you could think of was her. No one but you would’ve been brave enough to be a brat towards the headmistress of Nevermore, and that’s why you landed up being tied to the bed, a ruthless vibe working diligently between your legs as Larissa watched on. Her intense gaze at your leaking cunt truly should’ve made you feel embarrassed but it was having the opposite effect. Larissa would bring you right to the edge only to rip you away from it. If you wanted to act like a whore then you’d certainly be treated like one.

Larissa did this till your brain was nothing but a pile of mush, your whines of need being strictly ignored as your cunt clenched against thin air. “If you want to act like a whore doll then mommy will treat you like one” she all but purred at you, laughing slightly as a few stray tears fell from your eyes, “now now pretty dolls don’t cry, you brought this all on yourself. You’re not to touch or cum until mommy lets you, understood?” Truly her tone alone was leaving no room for any kind of arguments, you nodded and attempted to gain control over your emotions. You knew you could safe word, but this was a punishment and safe wording just to avoid it was wrong. Larissa untied you and cradled you in her lap, wrapping their arms tightly around you in comfort.

That was two days ago, you were feeling like you’d explode if you’re honest. Nothing you did would quell the burning pit of need within you. You need her to fuck you until your brain was nothing but mush. Larissa didn’t make things easy, every night she mad the habit of teasing you, making sure you thought your punishment was at the end before fucking herself right in front of you, fully on display with ample amount of sound, almost as if she was trying to get you to fail your punishment. You wouldn’t. You shouldn’t t. And you most definitely couldn’t.

Two whole days, you were near enough exploding with need, that’s when you came back into your shared chambers to find your lover in a new lacy set bought specifically for your eyes only. You tried to keep your gaze on her face, you couldn’t allow yourself to fail here. Looking like an angel from heaven she crooked her index finger seductively, her gaze anything innocent, a complete contrast to her Lacy white set. “Mommy?” You whined, your need more evident than you wanted it to be. “Oh my doll, you’ve taken your punishment so well darling. Mommy is so proud of you that she wanted to give you a special treat. Do you like it?” She purred gesturing to her hardly clothed body. “Yes mommy. Thank you” you choked out finally allowing your gaze to run all over her body.

You knew how this would go, Larissa would follow the same routine as any other punishment, it’s something that calmed you. You instantly kneeled next to the bed and looked at your lover, “I’m sorry mommy. I won’t be bratty again in that way. I’m only mommy’s girl I’d never stray” you whimper and you see the way her eyes darken at the last part. “Say it again doll” she teased and you instantly complied. “So you can be a good girl” she mused as if it was the first time, “get up here doll, you know what you need to do to show mommy just how sorry you are.”

After climbing up on the bed, watching Larissa shuffle back into the pillows you gave her a sweet kiss. As the kids deepened the need grew but you knew she had to cum first, to show how truly sorry you were. Larissa allowed you to take her set off piece by piece as you showered her with love and kisses. Only when you made your way down your body did she bring a hand to your hair and tug your head upwards, “mouth only my sweet doll” she warned before allowing you to continue.

When your breath hit her core she gasped, truly the two day punishment was driving her just a mad as you. When your tongue swiped at the wetness there you saw Larissa could’ve cried. You knew just how to please her. Her hands gripping the headboard and her bucking her hips against your face, practically fucking herself on your face, she was able to approach a very much needed climax. When you felt her legs tremble you knew she was close so you gripped onto her hips hard enough to bruise as you guided her movements and moaned around her sensitive clit. With a cry from the older woman you rewarded with a gush of cum from her pretty pussy as it spasmed around your tongue, you making sure to get every last drop.

She caught her breath before managing to move from your face, chuckling at you as your tongue darted around to get any remaining cum it could. “Look at the little cum slut. Are you needy precious girl?” She purred trailing her fingers lightly over your body. “Mommy need so bad” you mumbled trying to stop your voice from quivering as badly as your thighs were. You watched as Larissa surprised you by shifting her female anatomy to male. Truly, the sight was nothing short of magnificent. “Oh fuck mommy? Daddy? Oh fuck” you whined confused on what your girlfriend would prefer.

“Either baby, I don’t mind just pick one” she murmured answering your unasked question. “Daddy please” you whimpered eyeing her cock. “Are you sorry doll?” You whimpered watching her stroke her impressive length, “I’m sorry daddy, I won’t do it again” you pleaded and she could see the truth lingering in your eyes. “I know doll, you took your punishment well baby” she reassured you while lining her cock up with your leaking hole. “Doll, I’m going fuck you okay? It’s a little bigger than the toys because it’s more realistic. I don’t want to hurt you baby. You remember safe word?” She truly meant this. “Yes daddy. It’s red” you stated and she nodded before pushing her length into you slowly.

Tears prickled at your eyes, your inner walls stretching around her even though she stilled her hips allowing you to adjust. “Daddy” you whimpered as a few stray tears fell. “You’re doing so good for me doll, such a good girl for me” she kissed the tears away. Soon enough pain morphed into pleasure and you subconsciously your hips bucked upwards causing your girlfriend to chuckle, “such a needy girl for daddy aren’t you? “

When she started to move, you truly wondered if anything would feel as good as her inside of you. Actually her and not some plastic fake dick. “Oh god doll, so tight for me. Fuck so warm and wet doll, making daddy feel so good” she panted out her, the thrusting of her hips and moans tumbling from her lips stealing her breath. All you could do was whine and mewl at the sensations she provided as you came close to your peak embarrassingly quick. “Daddy please I can’t I need” you whimpered your train of thought jumping around manically. “I know doll let go” she murmured coming to kiss and such on your pulse point. You came with a scream of her name, your cunt squeezing her cock in its vice tight grip as your cum coated it and leaked slightly onto the sheets.

You thought she’d stop there, but she didn’t, she kept fucking you despite the whimpers of “no please daddy no sensitive” you were repeating. “Come on doll give daddy one more” she all but moaned out. And that’s what you did, you came again, squeezing her dick as she spurted cum up into your needy cunt causing an almost pornographic moan to tumble from your lips. And the sensation of peeing ? That was new. “Isa? What oh god did I pee?!” The panic rising through you. “No darling, you squirted love, it’s okay it’s perfectly natural and now I know you can do it I’m going to have so much fun with you” she murmured eyes seemingly transfixed on your sensitive core.

You flopped back against the bed and held an arm over your eyes, “god I’m so embarrassed!” You whined causing Larissa to chuckle at you, “it’s okay baby. Let me change the sheets and then me and my good girl can have a bath can’t we.” A quick kiss placed on your lips as she set about running a bath and changing the sheets, just letting you have your space to come back down to earth. That was one hell of a reward.

Word count~ 1598

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #larissa weems #larissa weems smut #larissa x reader #larissa x you #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #weems #principal weems #weems x reader #principle weems

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hiskillingjar · 10 months

Text

we love only the person we can eat

Relationship: Strade/Reader Rating: Explicit Contains: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Vaginal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Amputation, Love Confessions Length: 4600+ words:

Summary: “For us, eating and being eaten belong to the terrible secret of love. We love only the person we can eat [...] Eat me up, my love, or else I’m going to eat you up.”

Hélène Cixous (1998) Stigmata: Escaping Texts. pg. 78.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48093946

Loving someone shouldn’t feel like this, you think.

It should make you feel warm and fuzzy inside, it should feel like butterflies fluttering in your tummy, it should feel like safety, security, warmth and worship. It should be a feeling of girlish innocence and infatuation, bunny rabbits and taking the first steps past the gates of Disney World.

It shouldn’t feel like a virus or a disease that made your insides turn into poisonous mush and bile and spit, and threaten to spill out of you in a puddle of toxic vomit every time you opened your mouth.

It shouldn’t feel like your stomach and your brain were itching with insects and creepy-crawlies, maggots and worms, turning and squirming in your guts and never letting you feel a moment of stillness.

It shouldn’t feel like a life-encompassing obsession that convinced you that he would stop caring about you or even stop existing altogether if you stopped looking at him, stopped talking about him, stopped thinking about him, for even a second.

It shouldn’t feel like this.

But then again, you’re not sure if you even really felt love before this, before he saw you at the bar and took you for his own.

So maybe, this was exactly how love was supposed to feel.

“Ah…there you are. You’re waking up.”

It wasn’t often that you let yourself be underneath him, let yourself be taken so willingly, bare skin against skin. It wasn’t often that you allowed such a deliberate invasion of your space or exposure of your innermost vulnerabilities.

Not like you had much of a choice.

That night, you felt sluggish and slow and heavy, like you had a ton of weight strapped around your neck that kept your hazy eyes locked towards the ceiling, your neck pinned down to the bed. The pain you traditionally associated with being awake and living was replaced by an overwhelming numbness, so much so that it made your body feel cold and still, like a living corpse.

You assumed that your sluggishness was probably due to the drugs in your system. Strade was always pretty sloppy when it came to chemicals.

Not that you could blame him, though. He was more of a hands-on kind of guy, after all.

"Hey, buddy," He said with a slight tilt of his head, a playful lilt to his voice as he peered down, a slow smile spreading on his face as he considered you with a hungry twinkle in his golden eyes. "You doing okay? You were out of it for a while."

"Ngh," You attempted to speak, to make some kind of vocalisation (in either agreement or disagreement, you weren’t quite sure), but your tongue felt as heavy as your head did, loose and lousy behind your teeth, inside your skull.

He chuckled affectionately as he knelt up on the bed, the mattress dipping low underneath his weight (he had packed it on in the last couple of years since things had slowed down on his end of running the streams), pushing a hand through your hair. He wasn't gripping it just yet, he wasn't hurting you (a surprise in its own right), as he gently urged your head forward, your neck straight, and your eyes to meet his.

"Ah, I think I gave you too much sedative." He mused thoughtfully, raising his other hand to gently caress your cheek, his thumb tracing over your parted lips where a thin stream of drool was running down your chin, down your neck. "Whoops. My bad, I guess." He then said with a laugh. “You know me. I’m lousy with anything stronger than chloroform.”

In a moment of uncharacteristic gentleness (maybe he was in an especially good mood tonight), Strade started to kiss your cheek, down your neck, across your collarbone, practically doting on you and making your slack body tremble and shiver.

"I mean, I didn't have to sedate you," He then said with a casual shrug, giving your cheek (a smear of wet still clinging to your skin from his kiss) a few light taps, as if he was trying to wake you up from a deep slumber, wake you from your sluggish fatigue. "That was just me being nice, really. So I think a thank you is well deserved…”

He then brought his face closer to yours for a moment, raising a single brow with a silent question. A quiet reminder of just how dangerous he was capable of being, if he wanted to be.

“Don’t you?” He then said, his voice low.

“Mm,” You hummed, giving your head a little shake as you tried to kick yourself out of your sluggish daze and be as lively as he wanted you to be (and you were getting so tired of being lively). “T…thank you…”

“You’re welcome.”

His smile lines were deeper than they once were, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled and softened handsomely as he smiled, in a way they didn’t when you first met.

He was aging gracefully, he didn’t even have a single grey hair yet, and he had given you the privilege of aging alongside him. You could only guess the number of people who hadn’t been given such a privilege.

“Why did you sedate me?” You then asked, though your words were more of a mumble than anything else, your tongue still heavy behind your teeth.

"Oh, I wanted to do something special.” He replied, his voice a touch softer than usual as his smile softened too. “It’s our big day, after all.” He traced a thick finger along the curve of your jaw, down your neck, tracing the line that he had previously kissed. “I mean, it's kind of like an anniversary, don't you think, fräulein ? Seven years is an awfully long time for two people to be together. We ought to celebrate it."

Together.

He said the word so easily.

He implied a togetherness, a quasi-relationship that wasn’t built off a sadomasochistic need for fear and pain that was so terrifying and obscure and truly sublime in the most Gothic sense of the word, with such conviction that you were almost certain that he was joking, that he was teasing you.

And you were so easy to tease. You and your wide-eyed hopes, your romantic dreams, your tragically romantic books that depicted darkness and lightness in tandem, your cheesy romcoms that he bought for you and made fun of.

Together.

Were you?

He took a quiet moment to consider you further, his fingertips brushing tenderly over every scar that marred your shoulders, your chest, your barely exposed sternum, every cut, scrape or bruise, with such care and compassion despite him being the cause of the majority of them.

“I think we’re worth celebrating,” He brought his face close to yours, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth as his big hands mapped the span of your body as if he was trying to devote it to his memory, like he was afraid of possibly losing it. “ You’re worth celebrating.”

Really, when he spoke like that and touched you with a gentleness he never showed to anyone else ( because you’re special, you’re special, you’re special, that’s why he kept you, that’s why you were still alive ) , it's no wonder that you were keening up against him (the best you could), chasing his mouth with your own, wanting to be so close to him that your bodies merged together.

Loving someone shouldn’t feel like this, you think.

But you don’t want any other kind of love anymore.

Finally, he brought his mouth to yours in a deep kiss, one strong hand cupping your cheek, his grubby nails digging into the soft flesh as the other reached down and dug into your hip, groping and squeezing. When you gasped against his lips, he took the opportunity to press his tongue into your mouth, suffocating and all-consuming, and your eyes rolled back into your skull as you let yourself be so thoroughly invaded.

If it were possible for him to consume you, wholly, you would have let him, you think.

You knew that impulse came from something fucked up and Freudian, a wanting to be consumed by a man you should have hated but loved so deeply and intimately that it made you want to throw up, but that didn’t stop you from yearning for it.

You yearned for Strade to devour you with his sharp cannibal teeth , to tear flesh and muscle, to rupture skin and fat, and be devoured himself, in the truest sense of the word, in the unity of shared skin, bones, body, and blood.

But, because he couldn’t devour you (not in the literal, all-consumptive sense, at least), you, instead, pulled away from the kiss, raised your head, and bit his collar-bone to fill that violent yearning that haunted every dream and waking nightmare, marring his skin with rough indentations and pinpricks of blood welling at the surface of his tan skin.

Strade didn't mind.

“Ngh, scheiße !” He sucked in a pained hiss through his teeth, though that didn’t stop a dangerous grin from coming to his face as you dug your teeth in even deeper. “Ah…ahhh, little devil, this is how you want to play, ja?”

If anything, the pain made him all the more excited as he growled out his arousal and pressed himself even closer to you with another firm and invasive kiss, his cock hard through his slacks and rubbing against the soft mound of your cunt through your shorts, open and weeping and already begging to be stuffed to the very brim with his cock.

Gasping your own arousal against the deep kiss, your thighs parted with an unspoken invitation as you reached up (with shaking hands, the sedative hadn’t worn off just yet) to yank his shirt open, popped buttons shooting aside, and push it down his shoulders and his arms.

Despite the weight gain, and his general lack of strenuous activity as he had gotten older, Strade’s arms were still strong and well-defined (the strength gained from years of lugging around dead bodies didn’t go away that quickly, it seemed). You allowed yourself an ever-indulgent moment to stroke up and down them, feeling the warmth of his tan skin, the slick of the sweat clinging to him, and reveling that he was alive, he was real, you could touch him.

“So needy,” He teased with another grin, his words whispered against your parted, kiss-bitten lips as your shaking fingers traced over his tattoo, stripe-stripe-arrow (you’d never even asked what it meant). “You’re so desperate for me, fräulein. You never change.”

As he spoke, he reached down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his khakis, idly squeezing and groping his cock through his underwear, a damp spot of pre-cum soaking the thin fabric. Your mouth watered for him (literally, from the way you were still drooling down your chin).

“You don’t want me to change,” You replied, letting your lips trail down his chin and to his jaw, pressing a quick kiss to his scar before kissing down his neck, relishing in the low rumble of pleasure he let out as you did so. He really did like it when you paid attention to him. “Not really.”

“ Ja, that’s true.” He hummed, his free hand reaching down to your left thigh, spanning over the soft flesh and kneading it idly as he continued to grope his cock. “I picked you up exactly how I wanted you to stay forever. Hungry,” He sighed with pleasure, digging a canine into his bottom lip as you teased the bites on his collar bone with your tongue. “Needy, and so eager to please. Ha!” He barked out a gruff laugh, giving your thigh a slap and making your entire body flinch (despite the still-flowing sedative in your blood). “Let’s see if we can keep you like this for seven more years, hm?~”

At the very idea (and kind of promise) that he would be keeping you for at least another seven years, you dig your teeth into him again and again ( and again and again and again) , decorating his soft chest with bloody declarations of ownership (as close as you were going to get to ownership, anyway) and possessive love.

It was clear that that was enough to encourage Strade to take a scarred hip in each hand and effortlessly slide his hard cock inside of you, your loose shorts pushed aside and clinging to your puffy labia, groaning at the ease, the warmth, and the hot, tight heat of your cunt.

A flicker of discomfort came to your face as Strade started to fuck you, but it subsided as quickly as it came as he gradually built up a steady rhythm of shallow thrusts, barely giving you enough stimulation for pleasure (you liked to be teased in that way) and demonstrating only an interest in pleasing himself.

It’s a good pace, you thought as you reached down to circle your erect clit, standing tall and proud, with one hand, making yourself gasp and whimper, and one that Strade had to learn in the seven years since your initial capture.

He’d been a lousy lay at the beginning, seeking only a warm hole to sink his dick into when he was in the mood (whether it was a consenting hole or not), but since then, since coming to know each other and learning about each other’s bodies (in a way that was wholly consenting, albeit not at all safe or sane), he’d gotten much better.

Biting your lip as pleasure slowly started to build in your core, you took Strade's sweaty face in your free hand, staring up at him intently as he continued to relentlessly fuck you.

His face was uncharacteristically flushed and his eyes, the colour and sticky depth of honey, were hazy, half-lidded and incredibly hungry. His lips were kiss-bitten and parted to let out short breaths of exertion as he kept moving and gradually picking up the pace like a brutal machine, slamming his full hips against yours, his belly straining against the still-clinging buttons of his shirt.

“ Ich möchte dich verschlingen, ” He panted out, a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek and dripping down on your chest as he fucked you, before he brought his face closer to yours, his teeth bared. “ Meine fleisch, meine liebe~”

His mouth watered to tear you apart with his teeth, because he was only half man, not so much, and the rest fiend .

But he couldn’t do that, not yet, not truly, so he pressed a hungry kiss to your mouth instead, biting your lips and pressing your tongues together in a grotesquely erotic merge of fluids and flesh.

Strade's pounding cock brushed against a tight bundle of nerves deep inside of you, making your entire body, suddenly alive and brimming with energy and burning, aching fire, flinch and tremble. You were instantly compelled to throw your arms around his neck and sink your nails into his back, marring his skin even more with bloody lines and crescent moons dug into his flesh.

“Ah-hah!” Your once hazy eyes shot wide open and bloodshot as a prickling, electric shot of pain shot through your entire body and made your spine arch and bend. “F-Fuck-!”

The sedative had worn off, well and truly, and suddenly, the intense pain of your amputated leg ( your amputated leg, he FUCKING CUT YOUR LEG OFF HEFUCKINGMAIMEDYOUFUCKINGMONSTER) is the only thing you can feel. The deep gash on the bottom of what used to be your knee throbbed and burned, your very bone aching and burning in the meat of your thigh, and you had to dig your teeth into Strade's shoulder to stop yourself from screaming out in pain.

“Oh, there it is. That’s it,” He panted into your ear with a filthy grin, running his tongue over your ear and digging his teeth into your lobe, the same as you did. “Feel it, meine liebe . Feel the pain and remember what I did to you .”

You whimpered helplessly against his shoulder, clutching onto him and wrapping your leg around his full waist, trying desperately hard to ignore the consistent throbbing.

"Do you remember how it tasted?" He then growled into your ear again with a cruel smile, pushing himself as deep as he could inside you, spearing you on his cock and watching intently (his golden eyes wider than you had ever seen them) as you writhed and squirmed beneath him. A pinned-down butterfly with a needle through its middle, an animal skin waiting to be filled, a rabbit thrashing for freedom beneath the jaws of a wolf, foolish enough to consent to their capture. "Remember how you begged to taste yourself on my tongue, meine liebe ? What a sick, little freak you are."

"Nnoooo-" You whined helplessly as you tipped your head back with a desperate groan, your hips pushed back against his cock as he wrapped a hand around the stump of your leg and pulled you closer to him. "No, no, noooo..."

"Yesss~" He drawled with a mean chuckle, his honey-coloured eyes half-lidded as he used his grip on your thigh to pull you down onto him, as if you were a toy, a doll in his lap. "And you loved it, didn't you? You loved that I cared about you enough about you to eat you, to devour you and hold you inside myself forever...ah, fräulein, what a poor creature you are."

"S-Strade," You gasped, whining out a broken gasp of pain and pleasure, his thick cock filling every inch of you and making you shake and tremble with desperate, yearning want, despite the excruciating pain that was now shooting from your scalp to the very tip of your toes. "Please, please, I can't-"

"It's too much, isn't it?" He cooed softly, as the hand not on your thigh reached up to idly grope your chest, rolling the piercing through your nipple between this thumb and pointer finger, listening to each of your whimpers and whines. "All too much for a sweet, little thing like you to handle.”

All you could do was try to jerk your head away and look somewhere else, the ceiling, the wall, the fucking carpet for all you cared right now-

“Hah, you know, I would have thought you'd built up a bit of an endurance to it after seven years!" He laughed again and pinched your nipple cruelly, tugging at the hoop with a teasing grin when you let out a shrill shriek of pain at the motion. "You always have a way of staying soooo interesting, meine liebe . That's why I like you so much~"

He then dipped his head to indulgently run his tongue over your chest, nipping at the hoop through your nipple and giving it a mean little tug as he continued to relentlessly fuck you.

"That's why I love you."

And for whatever reason, just hearing those words, everything around you fell into place.

You stopped shrieking, and crying and twisting away from him. Even the pain stopped, in the traditional sense, replaced with a burning ricocheting through your trembling body as you stared up at him, like you were staring at an angel, a twisted kind of God, and not the fucking Devil himself.

“Because I do,” He continued, meeting your eyes with his own as he looked down at you. “I do love you. Very much.”

“I love you too,” You gasped out, feeling a cold sweat clinging to your forehead as you reached up to cling onto him, digging your nails into his shoulders like you were scared of being pulled away from him, scared of losing him. “I love you, I love you, I love you-!”

You were tethered, you thought, as you dipped your head and tongued one of the bites you had left behind on Strade's shoulder, like a dog tongued an enemy's lacerated throat, as Strade fucked you deeper, earning more scratches and cuts down his back, not even a modicum of the pain he inflicted on you so easily, so readily.

“This is all for you,” He then murmured softly, his voice low and even gentle sounding as he brought his face closer to yours again, every hard edge of his features softened by the low light of the setting sun, to the degree that he almost looked as harmless and charming as he did on the very first night you met.

“So be sure to savour it.”

You kissed him again, desperately hard like you were a man starving, and in your frenzied haste, you bit down too hard, somehow managing to rupture the thin skin of Strade’s bottom lip, a rivulet of blood suddenly streaming down his chest and staining his mouth, his lips, his teeth.

It was a perfect taste, you thought, as you thrust your own tongue into his mouth, wrapping yourself entirely in him as he pushed his cock even deeper inside of you.

You didn’t like sex before this, not really, at least not in the traditional sense because you had always liked what you and Strade had done together (no matter how grotesque, repulsive of wrong), but you like how inseparable your bodies have become through this erotic unification.

Is it your own thigh that you’re touching, or is it Strade's? Is it Strade's blood that’s spilling across your tongue or your own? Is Strade's cock inside of you or has it always been there, a part of you?

In the light of the setting sun, sealed away from the eyes of anything normative or traditional, the lines between you and Strade began to blur and were replaced by a mass of writhing, sweaty flesh, and you liked that.

You preferred being rendered monstrous through your own actions to being deemed monstrous by those who cannot see them.

Because you were a monster, in the truest sense, and he had seen the monster in you and loved you, not despite it but because of it.

Strade kissed you again, fiercely, thrusting so deep inside of you, inside of your pulsing cunt, that you could practically feel it in your lungs (you wondered, for maybe a moment too long, what that would actually feel like, Strade thrusting his cock into your vivisected chest), pressing your chests together, smearing the blood that was still dripping down his chin against your pale skin and tethering your bodies even more.

After a few more short, erratic thrusts, you could feel your core tighten and throb around Strade’s still-thrusting cock, and your entire body trembled and shook from pain, pleasure, and sheer exertion.

Like a mean form of payback, Strade suddenly bit down on your lower lip (with his sharp cannibal teeth), and a burst of blood coated both your probing, writhing tongues and trickled down your chins, painting your bodies even more so in brutal pleasure.

With Strade's hands on your hips, grubby, bitten fingernails digging into the soft flesh, your pale skin, he pushed himself even deeper with one final thrust and ejaculated deep inside of you, pushing you, himself, over the line of orgasm and into a world of white-hot, mind melting ecstasy.

Maybe it’s poetic that you came together so often. Romantic.

The one rendition of romance you had, barring the cannibalism.

You were the first to pull away, nearly collapsing back against the bed and letting out a deep exhale as you run your tongue over your wounded lip, hissing at the sensitivity of it.

What was another wound, though? It paled in comparison to the still burning, throbbing pain of your amputated knee.

Strade took a moment to indulge in a rare vulnerability, not even trying to detangle himself from you and opting instead to cage you down against the bed underneath his weight, resting his head on your chest and his slowly softening cock, still weeping, pressed to your right thigh.

He reached up to idly stroke over the lacerations that ran down the center of your sternum, a poor man’s attempt at vivisection when he was feeling particularly ambitious, and you ached for him to push his fingers past those scars and penetrate you even deeper.

You ached for him to devour even more of you, for him to reach into your chest, to pull out bones, flesh, and organs and tear into you, engulfing you completely and carrying you with him always, no matter what he did to you.

That way, you would always win//

"I left your prosthetic downstairs," He murmured softly after a long moment of comfortable silence, before he sat up on the edge of the bed and pressed a quick kiss to your temple, nestling his face against your soft hair (longer than it had been when you first met). "How is it feeling? Still painful?"

"Y-Yeah…it hurts," You said with a soft hiss as he ran his fingers over your gash, your body trembling a little at the pain but trying hard not to flinch or cringe away. You could endure it. "Can I have another dose?"

"Hm?" He hummed a non-verbal question, his voice an ever-playful lilt as a teasing smile spread on his face. "You want another dose of sedative, is that it?"

"Please," You pleaded softly, keening into his touch, your cheek pressed into his palm. “For our special day?”

"Mm, I'll think about it," He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your other cheek as he idly pushed his fingers into your hair, petting you like a dog, a cat, or an animal in his bed. "I'll go get your prosthetic for now.” He fished in his pocket for a moment and took out his phone, checking the time with a swipe of his finger. “I think Ren should be finishing up on the stream by now, so we can have a late dinner together to celebrate. Okay?"

You couldn’t think of a reason to try and argue against him.

"Okay." You nodded and smiled the best you could, despite the pain, leaning up to chase after a kiss as he stood to his feet, buckling his belt and buttoning up the (remaining) buttons of his shirt.

He gave the kiss to you readily, reaching forward and cupping your face gently with his free hand, his thumb tracing over your chin, and your bottom lip as he pulled you into a soft, close kiss.

Just as he gave his love to you readily now.

“ Meine liebe, ” He whispered softly against your lips between kisses, his eyes deeply fond as he stroked his thumb up and down your cheek. “You’re mine, sweet thing. Mine to kiss and to fuck and to devour, and to love, however I want . Remember that.”

“I’m yours,” You whispered in a reply, pressing your own kiss to his smiling lips. “Always.”

Strade didn’t say another thing. He didn’t need to when he smiled so proudly and kissed your cheek, running his fingers through your hair for an indulgent moment of softness before he stood to his feet and left you in the bedroom, idly shouting for Ren as he paced down the stairs.

You fell back against the bed with an exhausted huff, your body a mess and your lip, your neck, your shoulders, and your leg throbbing in pain.

Loving someone shouldn’t feel like this, you thought, as you looked down where your leg used to be, the dark gash marring the tattooed skin of your right thigh, a cruel reminder of his ownership over you.

But he was right. It was the perfect kind of romance for the two of you to share.

A perfect romance and a perfect meal.

Loving someone shouldn’t feel like this.

But you didn’t want any other kind of love anymore.

Not ever again.

#boyfriend to death #btd #you kill me every time #ykmet #strade btd #strade ykmet #strade x reader #IT'S BEEN SEVEN YEARS #MOTHERFUCKERRRRRR #i don't want to fix him i want him to EAT ME #ray's fics

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muutos · 11 months

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get to know the author!

name : morgan / moogs

pronouns : she/her

preference of communication : discord

most active muse : five nights at freddy's charas, flora ghoul maybe. missy, i guess. i suppose it's like, fair game right now for the most part. i'm writing everyone a fair bit.

experience / how many years : i was .. ig technically gifted so i've been writing long/short form stories and other things since ten years old and rp since 12/13 on omegle and email, also with friends on facebook. so 12 years ish rp experience and 15 total of writing. i've also gotten my associates degree in writing for film and television as a post secondary student, and graduated with a mighty fine GPA. ;)

best experience : meeting my lovely fiance and all of my lasting beautiful relationships and friendships like with like - pj, jess, sam, ben, munchie, spectre, veronica, little, billie, vero, ed, aleera ... like s/o to those people who have been there for literal years or coming up on a year for some of us! how time flies. i'm so so so excited to make more friends moving forward and just have a silly billy time.

rp pet peeves : snakes. people who have main character syndrome on this website and think their pretty graphics and purple prose make them better than everyone else. people who are allergic to fun. people to assume writer = muse, when it comes to morality. assuming people aren't grown and educated enough to weigh their decisions regarding problematic content and media. people who think fiction needs to be squeaky clean and PG for 'the sake of humanity'. people who marginalize an entire group of people while claiming to be progressive. hypocrites. cliques and exclusionist behavior. stalkers. <3

fluff, angst, or smut : Angst, and dirty gross monster-fucking nasty depraved - *gunshots*

plots or memes : plots, but memes are great to get things going at random and it's amazing what can spark from them.

long or short replies : i've been known to write 1,000 words in one reply.

time to write : before 4pm when my brain and focus turn to mush.

are you like your muses : you can draw pieces of yourself from everyone. if i couldn't relate to my muses in some way what's the point? what am i getting out of it?

tagged by: @atlatsofstories <3 tagging: @chrchgrl @lettherebemonsters @silvcrignis @helk1ll @7poisons @cyberpawn @dilffactory @faztastiic @squarecranks @charmbag @divinehr @diicktective @goldshadows

#misc * / out of character #𝐢. . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 › dash games ]

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munsontm · 2 years

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"I'd totally fuck you" — steve ofc lol

Send "I'd totally fuck you" my for my muses reaction to yours saying it / ACCEPTING / @harringtontm

It was almost nauseating how one man spouting dirty words made the brim of his heart spill over as more liquid love poured into him, like crimson light through a window. Damn, that was cool. He needed to save it for some lyrics.

Eddie hadn't felt this strongly about anyone in his entire life, and it struck him for the millionth time that week how crazy this was; they were when he looked over at Steve while crouched in front of his music collection in search of anything listenable. He stared intensely into the deep depths of Steve Harrington's eyes, only for a moment, admiring the hazel colours tinged with flecks of gold. Beautiful. Man, cupid had rammed his fat baby arrows really hard into his brain because Eddie could feel drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away quickly, grumbling internally that the little cherub bastard had probably given him brain damage.

Standing up from his crouch, tattooed arms wrapped across his chest. Eddie made his way over to Steve, a smile beginning to form when he thought over what the other had just said to him. He stopped in front of Steve's knees, which hung off the bed, and cocked his head to one side in observation. "Yeah?" he hummed, the tell-tale signs of a tease lurking in his voice. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Steve. But isn't that what you were doing so enthusiastically this morning and last night too? And then---mmm, two days ag---oh wait, that was me fucking you. So I'd say we're pretty covered on the fucking front, babe." Amazingly so. Steve was good to him, too good in his mind. Eddie didn't know what he'd done to bag himself such a generous and considerate lover. No one had ever asked him what he wanted before Steve, and it meant a lot when he did. He'd do anything for Steve Harrington.

He drew his knees on either side of Steve's hips and slid into his lap with familiar ease, mumbling an inside joke between them that it was his personal throne, which earned him the sweet sound of Steve's laughter. It made his metalhead's guts turn to mush. The I love you sat on the tip of his tongue, pushed against his teeth, and then sadly remained there as a slither of panic made him chicken out. But he kissed Steve to make up for something Steve didn't even know he'd missed out on. "You're more than welcome to show me your enthusiasm again." Eddie nipped at his bottom lip, doe eyes shining with adoration. "Anytime you want. big boy."

#ship. whenever i’m alone with you; you make me feel like i am whole again (harringtontm) 🎸#harringtontm #you're illegal steve #I L L E G A L

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charmerquilled · 1 year

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Don't think anything will get done today. Apologies for suddenly dropping activity even though I seemed raring to go, writing wise, a week or two back. Delved into a pretty deep writing lull, but it should pick back up soonish after I let the muse rest. There are a few asks and a Star Guardian drabble I want to do soon.

For now though, I'm super tired. Accidently did an all-nighter last night without really meaning to, and I feel like I've been hit with a bus haha. My brain is absolutely mush.

#&&. I had to get up at such a gross hour... 4 am 💀#&&. so I never really fell asleep due to my anxiousness of getting up that early LMAO #&&. a relative had a planned surgery and I promised to drive her back home after it was done today haha #&&. ooc ( a mun who isn't as graceful as her muse )

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fangedscience · 2 years

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DO-WAH DIDDY,

Brain is still mush and I am so tired™, I’m blaming last night’s full moon. I have much muse but my attention span is a joke. I’m also definitely not working on setting up Lorna. Anyways, gonna reblog some memes to try and trick my brain into letting me focus on writing. It’s a toss up on whether it’ll work hahaha but you know you wanna do the thing~

#𝓕𝓐𝓝𝓖𝓔𝓓‚ OOC․ ‘ diddy dum diddy do ’ ․

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mythologymadness · 3 years

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does anyone else think about how all of kronos’s children somewhat mirror each other when they’re lined up and how their personalities fit their positions as siblings almost perfectly?

like okay, hestia and hades are the oldest of the sisters and brothers respectively. they are pretty chill overall and have a sort of parental feel to them whether it be doting auntie or exasperated dad. both are more generally logical and quiet but still speak their mind and have a way of commanding the room (i, as an oldest sibling myself, am this description but more angry).

also when theseus and his buddy came to kidnap persephone, hades was well aware of what they wanted to do (and somewhat amused at that), and just humored them with a welcome invitation in his realm, fed them, and then trapped them in the underworld?? oldest sibling energy.

poseidon and demeter are more emotional, if that makes sense. they make most decisions on feelings and opinions which affects everyone because a) they’re the middle man of their siblings and b) their realms are greatly depended on by humans, in a “we literally won’t live without it” way. both are patient and kind, with a gentle bite, when they are calm but are also more easily provoked because they’re so headstrong. they cause a sort of destruction that may not always be extremely severe but their realms bring disaster in large scales, making something not so serious still a hell of an issue. and that’s only when it’s not that serious.

zeus and hera are the head honchos of olympus and i think i can end it here with the knowledge that everyone had read “the three little pigs” but i shall continue. both are also emotional but in a way that is more concealed. they know what their responsibilities are and do what must be done, logical in their own right and always thinking of consequences but unable to ignore their internal feelings. they’re leaders, quick thinkers, and both fuck up because they end up not communicating or rather, not listening. because despite not wanting help out of pride, it’s what they need.

#i thought about this in the shower yesterday (as all random thoughts do)#also zeus and hera mirroring each other which is exactly why they can clash as a couple but also ultimately understand each other is just #too much for me right now #this isnt going in the queue this is just brain mush that came from my intense thinking last night at 10 pm #greek mythology #zeus #hera #poseidon #demeter #hades #hestia #muse des

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respect-the-king · 3 years

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My hound Lucifur giving me images of Crowley sitting on his own in the throne room or something with the hounds, sighing every time he has to throw the human femur or skull for them to fetch (bc mundane dog toys spoil the image :P)

#I was cuddling them just last night: Hell Hounds #i'm bloody crowley: musings #headcanons #//my brain is mush so don't blame me for the shit it spews out instead of doing drafts >.>#tw: dark content #tw: human remains

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naranciao · 4 years

Note

your writing is so sexy like you make me want to read something again bc you remind me words can do this to my heart

DIDYUO KNO IM GONNA FUCKIN MAKEOUT IWHT U

#gggno #asks /#ooc /#i fell asleep last night when u sent this but THE #IM CRYING JAN THANK U IM SAVING THIS IF U DONT MIND #savola /#the kool aid man rendered my brain to mush so i cant coherently form appreciative lovemail other than screeching #STOP THTOUGH!!!! SSTOP!!! I REREAD UR SEXY WRITING BC THATS LEGIT THE VIBE I GET FRM U GOD DAMN!!!!!#im not even just saying this but it flows so well deadass #eng is dirt under your heel babe #jan lovemail and jan muses lovemail and everything jan lovemail MWAH

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tvrningout-archived · 2 years

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thinking about how yu specifically requested that he go on mizu’s first mission with her bc that’s his kid okay and how very sad and nervous he was to leave her afterward : (( and not mizu putting on a brave face just for him and then every time they have to part ways after that, not mizu feeling guilty for dragging him into her own need to make a difference. and y’all lemme tell you, after that final battle with muzan... there are tears and i will not elaborate until after i get around to writing a proper post about it

#my brain is actual mush rn so i'm gonna head to bed #but my heart bleeds for mizu and yu at all times #have i not written them in months? yes but shhhh i'm gonna work on that #one thing at a time bc i really feel like all of my muses are suddenly competing for attention and it's weird #after having kaiya brainrot for 2-3 months straight oh man #feels very nice tho :' )#i think this is hte last post for the night tho so have a lovely night friends and take care <3 #headcanons | yu #headcanons | mizu #this qualifies as a hc even if it's a mess okay

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fukurodanni · 3 years

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love for the rich and emotionally stunted: a comprehensive guide

ch. 1/7 -- prev. -- next. pairing: jumin han x f!reader warnings: n/a series summary: in the months following the incident with his father's most recent paramour, glam choi, the corporate heir of C&R finds himself discovering exactly what it is that makes a person in love so blind. ao3 link

note: office romance slowburn. featuring hallmark tropes and bad flirting. enjoy the ride. hop into my inbox for a tag if you're interested though! kiss kiss.

You don’t mean for it to happen the first time.

Considering the state of your routine and your general efficiency (required when it comes to a job at C&R) it’s easy to say that showing up early is an ingrained habit. It had happened a few times too many when you’d first started working and just sort of stuck. However.

It’s thirty minutes past schedule when you wake up in a state of panic, rushing and grabbing for clothes and keys and wallet before stumbling out the door.

But for as much as you’d worried, it all turns out fine. You’re still on time, a nice man holds the door open for you--you don’t think you’ve seen him before, or maybe you’re so distressed your brain doesn’t recognize the face--and there aren’t any consequences. You don’t get yelled at. You aren’t behind. Really, you should have overslept more often.

So the next day you set your alarm a little later than usual and allow yourself to sleep. It goes much smoother than the day before and you still make it on time, looking much better than you had 24 hours prior. The same man--you think-- holds the door open for you, and you glance back to smile and thank him.

Except you really must have been too stressed to notice because the man you’re staring at is the executive director and immediate heir to C&R.

Your smile falls.

And then you choke out a noise of gratitude that’s supposed to sound like “Thanks,” but the shock in your voice turns it to audible mush. Mr. Han only hums in return and walks past you with all the dignity and poise of a seasoned Calvin Klein model. Your heart hammers with a startling lucidity at the surprise of it all but it isn’t anything that you think much of, so you make it back to your desk on time and it’s all fine, it’s all fine. It isn’t until about an hour later that you realize it’s probably the first time you’ve seen him so close in person.

Not that it matters, of course, but then it does - because it happens again.

And again, and again.

The routine continues for about a week: the “thank you,” the hum of a response, and no further conversation besides that at the door. You’ve gotten to catch longer glimpses of him as this routine has gone on, the shine of his hair, this grey of his eyes, but there’s something that intrigues you infinitely more. You haven’t gotten him to smile and it nags at you, incessant. So you’re determined to do it now.

You crack a joke about his consistency the next time you see him, a smile playing coy at your lips. He just hums again. Killjoy.

“What?”

“What?” You ask, turning on your heel. His voice is much deeper than in the press interviews.

“Were you calling me a killjoy?”

“Not intentionally, no.” You quip back, face feeling hot. You turn again and begin walking back, nursing the humiliation you can already feel pricking at your nerves. “Have a nice day, Mr. Han.”

You think he says something like “You too,” but you wouldn’t notice it over the rush in your ears.

That went well.

Another day passes, another routine, rinse and repeat. He doesn’t seem bothered by yesterday’s incident, so you’re planning to talk to him again tomorrow, just to give it a day in between. It’s going to get annoying soon, but he’s neither fired nor closed the door in your face so in all situations, it really is a win-win.

Jumin Han opens the door for you, wordlessly as ever. You spare a glance at him.

“I’d considered arriving late just to get a reaction out of you, and then I realized that I wouldn’t even be there to see it.” You quirk your head in wait, watching as the corners of his lips twitch into an unwitting smile.

Mirth is very becoming on him, you realize. Oh no.

“I’m sure it would be quite the sight, Miss.” He replies, that same almost-smile creasing a dimple into his cheek. When he nods his good morning and walks off to the tippity-top of the C&R building, all the office lights seem a little brighter in the wake.

You shake yourself from your musings and an intern is already brushing past you in their hurry to return to their place-- wherever that may be, and it reminds you to do the same. C&R International, with all its focus on exports, has a wide breadth when it comes to fashion. Having directed several of its projects, you know this firsthand. You also know that when your schedule isn’t filled to the brim, everything else seems like busywork.

For the first time in a few months you feel like a regular, 9-to-5 office worker.

Additionally, this means that you’ve returned to being hyped up on watery coffee all the time. The building’s cafeteria is a modern marvel in and of itself, overpriced as its food may be. Your break is just long enough for you to catch two-thirds of a meal and a conversation if the mood strikes, otherwise a whole meal and a moment to catch up on social media. Having just passed the two-thirds-meal mark, you’re surprised to see someone else approaching your seat.

Funnily, horribly enough, it’s Mr Han himself, who’s looking at you with the same unbidden curiosity that a child might grant a particularly fascinating caterpillar.

“You work here,” he says, without greeting. It’s an innocent enough statement.

Did he not know? That you work here? Was he under the impression that you’d just started showing up for his own personal amusement and one-sided banter at the beginning of the month?

“Uh,” you say. “Yes.”

He blinks at you. You think for a moment that he might fire you on the spot. You don’t know why.

“I have a lanyard,” you say dumbly, holding it up. You wave it around a little. Mr Han nods, looking professional as ever. “I see,” he says. “Work hard.” And then he leaves, Italian leather on polished marble and all. You still need to finish the rest of your salad.

It’s almost ironic, the fact that you arrive late the next day.

After the strange half-encounter with Mr. Han, you’ve given yourself a moment of contemplation. Surely if the man hadn’t given a second thought to you besides your shared mornings-- not even a minute, besides-- then there wouldn’t be any point in pursuing him any further. He hadn’t even realized you worked there, not really.

Office romances never work out, anyhow.

You don’t even know if it was an office romance that you were pursuing in the first place. Perhaps it would have been nice, just to have another friend at work. Not that you were lacking, only that everyone had already seemed to settle in their routines and you’d been so busy, and well. Some things work out that way, and it’s not like you’re awful at small talk.

You’re running to the door of the office building, shoes clacking noisily against the pavement. You have to open the door for yourself this time.

“I thought you were kidding about arriving late to see my reaction.”

You think your neck just about cracks with the speed you turn to the noise. Mr Han stands not two meters from you, head tilted curiously in that same innocent wonder. He looks sort of sheepish, though you can’t quite figure why.

“I’m, uh--” You stare at him then, really take him in. Nothing comes. “I’m late for work.”

His eyes widen a fraction. And then he starts chuckling, softly, and it’s petrichor after rain, a deep tenor from low in his throat that has you suddenly, instantly warm. It isn’t much, not really.

But then you start laughing too, familiar and gleeful and it’s almost like you weren’t having a deep monologue about him that spanned most of last night. When you meet his eyes again, warm like the earth, it’s enough to boil hope in you, sunlight spilling over.

You don’t know for what yet, but you figure it’s something you’d like to find out.

tags: @vandysgf @banenaz @mrs-han thank u!

#jumin han x reader #jumin x reader #mystic messenger x reader #jumin han x mc #jumin x mc #mystic messenger fluff #mysme x reader #my writing #lftr&ems #emu writes #WC: 1.3K

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storiesofsvu · 3 years

Text

Classified Affairs Ch 13

Heather Dunbar x fem!reader Warnings: language, angst, some hurt, arguing, derogatory terms/insults, y’all…this is just the beginning…

It took you by a slight surprise when the car pulled up outside Plume, while Heather did normally take you to more upscale places, one so much as this wasn’t the norm for your date nights. It was also a place that you knew was a go to for a lot of political party members, and you started to wonder if this was some sort of a test, if Heather was going to see how you could hold your own around her circle of people. It was particularly intriguing considered the racy lingerie she requested you wear under your dress, and the fact that her cum was still dripping from your pussy, soaking your panties along with your own wetness at the thought of the reward after dinner if you behaved.

You were slightly distracted with your phone as you were led to your table, knowing Heather would be picking the wine anyways, you took the time to reply to a couple of texts from Becca before placing the device down on the table to look over the menu.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight, everything alright?” Heather murmured softly, her eyes not moving from the menu in front of her.

“Hmm?” You glanced up, registering her voice but not really hearing what she had said.

“I asked if everything was alright?” She raised a brow, “you seem distracted.”

“I’m great.” You cast her a warm smile, “and I’d say dazed…” you lowered your voice slightly, “you managed to turn my brain into mush.” You caught the small smirk and gleam in her eye before your phone vibrated, your attention briefly turning to it.

Heather raised a brow at the small smile that snuck onto your face as you read the text, quickly replying before you placed it back down, muttering a quiet apology to her for interrupting your dinner. The server came by not long after that and Heather ordered a rather pricey bottle of Malbec while you decided on appetizers. It wasn’t long after that that your light conversation was interrupted by a friendly voice,

“Heather…” you both looked up to the voice, your brain connected her face to one of another Senator, though you couldn’t quite place a name, “it’s been a while.” She smiled, “it’s nice to see you.”

“Likewise.” Heather replied, “you know, I nearly stopped by your office on my way out today.”

“Well it does seem like you had more important places to be.” The three of you let out a small chuckle at her tease. Heather gestured towards you,

“Y/N, she was my assistant back at the firm before I moved up.” The lie was so flawless you nearly believed it yourself for a moment, “Jackie Sharp.”

“Hi.” You accepted her extended hand in a warm handshake, “it’s lovely to meet you Ms Sharp.”

“Please, call me Jackie.”

“You’re New York, right?”

“Indeed I am.” She smiled softly at you, “are you in the political field now?”

“Oh, no.” You laughed, “played around with a journalism degree, but stuck to the P.A world, I simply did whatever Heather needed me to.”

“Sure hope she didn’t overwork you.” Jackie teased, pulling a scoff from Heather, “I’ll let you two get back to your evening.” She glanced between the two of you with a genuine smile and Heather couldn’t resist teasing the younger woman.

“Would hate to keep your date waiting.” She gestured over to the table where one of their colleagues was already sat, a man around Jackie’s age. Jackie let out a hearty laugh, smirk on her cheeks as she addressed the other woman.

“Oh come on Heather, you know me better than that.” She cast one last look at the table before she made her way over to her own, you watched her curiously, wondering exactly what her words meant. Part of you assumed that it was a simple thing, an ‘I don’t date coworkers’, but the other part of you that read into her words in a different way, made you wonder if she simply didn’t date men, or if perhaps Heather had a past with her.

“I thought you didn’t follow politics?” Heather mused from the other side of the table.

“I don’t…” you let out a gentle sigh, pulling out of your trance as you fixed your attention back on her.

“How’d you know she was New York then?”

“She was on the lunch news hour today.” You shrugged, “I was only paying attention cause she’s cute.” You admitted with a small laugh as your cheeks flushed, ducking your gaze from Heather who let out a playfully, mock offended scoff.

“Oh really?” She raised a brow in your direction, the look in her eye halfway between a teasing sparkle and a threat.

“I said cute…not undeniably fucking stunning.” You murmured back to her.

“Good girl.” She smiled, happy knowing that you were going to behave tonight. Although, after the fucking she’d given you before you’d left the condo, she was sure that you were eagerly awaiting your reward post dinner.

“There’s a rumour that she might run for President?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“Is that why you wanted to talk to her earlier?”

“Partially.” Heather hummed over a sip of wine, you paused to place your food orders, appetizers and mains.

“Would you be competing with her for the Democratic slot? With Underwood announcing he’s not running for a second term?”

“Were you really paying that much attention to the news today?”

“It was a very slow shift.” You laughed, “and you know how they constantly play that shit on a loop.”

“I thought you weren’t at Salt Line on Thursdays?”

“I’m not. I was at Shaw’s.”

“Didn’t you quit that job months ago?”

“I quit the nightclub. It was garbage, I actually like Shaw’s. It’s like the complete opposite of Salt Line.”

“Rowdy frat boys are preferred to uptight politicians?” She teased with a raised brow and you laughed again.

“They’re not that bad. And a lot of them are privileged trust fund babies so they at least tip pretty well.”

“So which job is it that you have a lost puppy following you around at? I don’t think I’ve seen anyone new at Salt Line recently?” You let out a small laugh, pausing briefly to thank the server as they dropped off a plate of scallops for you and a salmon tartare for Heather.

“Shaw’s.”

“I hope she’s not annoying you too much.”

“She’s not.” You let out a near moan at the taste of your food, “god this is good. And she’s fine, like, we’re friends, it’s not like she comes on too strong or anything, though she is kinda cute.”

“Oh?”

“Heather please.” You chuckled, “you know I much prefer women older than me.”

“Good.” She waited for you to stop fiddling with your phone (shooting off another reply to Becca), “I was thinking of taking you shopping on Sunday, what’s your shift again?”

“Oh I can’t.” You near pouted, “I’m working the day shift and I’ve got plans for after already. I’m sorry.” You winced slightly as your phone buzzed again and Heather let out a soft sigh, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve put it away.” You commented about your phone,

“It’s fine.” She waved her hand, “god knows how many times I’ve had to answer my phone while we’ve been out.”

“Yeah but your job’s a little more important than mine. And this isn’t even work, but…thank you.” You instinctively dropped your arm to give her hand a gentle squeeze but Heather was faster, sliding it away, shying from any from of PDA, nearly chastising you with her expression as she did so. Your eyes ducked down after darting over to Jackie’s table, kicking yourself for not remembering her rules. “Sorry.”

“You need to stop apologizing honey. Take the time to answer the text, clearly you’re little miss popular tonight.”

“Apparently.” You half laughed, furiously typing out a text in reply.

‘I’m out right now. I’ll text or call you when I’m done for the night? We can make more concrete plans, xo.’

You tossed the phone back on the table top, the screen still alight as you turned to Heather, “I’m just gonna run to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

“Course.” She gave you a small smile as she turned back to her food.

A couple of forkfuls later and your phone buzzed against the table top, vibrating closer to her, as if it was an invitation for her to see what was going on. A second text popping up in the still open conversation. She glanced toward the bathroom quickly, but curiosity got the best of her, she picked up the device, reading the message.

‘Oh shit, sorry babe. Sounds perfect, I’m stoked for our movie night, xo.’

Heather’s brow furrowed at the words, the use of an almost pet name, she glanced up to the contact, but there was no picture, and the nickname you had for this person gave her no more context. She felt frustration beginning to build within her, she had given you very clear rules about your situation, and the last thing she needed right now was anysort of scandal. Unable to help herself, she scrolled up through the messages, reading them backwards made things a little more confusing, but she got the gist of it. Not only did you seem flirty with whoever this person was, but you’d been talking to them about your casual yet emotional relationship with someone else. The way the two of you talked about this woman was soft, nearly gushing about things, and nothing seemed similar to the situation you had going on with her. Her jaw clenched and she felt the near fury race through her at the mention of you having sex with whoever this woman was, that…was definitely against the rules. Not wanting to further increase her anger, she dropped the phone down to the table, locking it so she couldn’t tempt herself anymore as she sucked back the rest of her wine.

Only a moment later you slid back into the booth, swiping your phone from the table top and dropping it into your bag. You tilted your head curiously at the shift in the energy at the table, you wondered if the presence of Jackie in the restaurant was the reason for Heather’s pursed lips, or if it was your misdirect earlier of trying to be affectionate with her in public. You scarfed down another scallop, and before you could even mention it, the waiter circled by the table again.

“How are we doing over here? Looks like we might need another bottle of wine?”

“The cheque please.” Heather replied curtly and your brow furrowed as you glanced over to her.

“Oh.” He stumbled slightly, “alright. M’am if you just wait a little bit I can get your meals packed up to go?”

“No.” Her voice was even harder, colder at this and you were taken aback nearly as much as the waiter was. She turned back to them, a fake smile on her face, “just the cheque. Leave it as it is, I’ll still pay for the mains.”

“I’m sure I can just remove them.”

“I insist.” She fished out a credit card, handing it to him, “you and whomever you’re friends with can have the food whenever it’s ready. We’ll be leaving.”

“Alright. Just give me one second.” He quickly darted away from the table and you turned to her with a concerned look on your face.

“Heather…”

“Don’t.” She nearly glared across the table to you, “go get in the car.”

“But”—

“Car. Now.”

You wanted to pry a little more, wondering where this anger was coming from, wondering if she had gotten a message or call while you’d been in the bathroom, if work or her husband had ruined your night together. You were used to the car being ready when you were finished, you weren’t used to it being there the entire time, quickly clambering into the backseat, shifting until you were in Heather’s preferred spot for you. Less than five minutes later she swiftly slid into the seat, barely looking at you as she addressed the driver to take you to your condo.

The car ride was tense, you could feel the negativity seeping through the air and were honestly praying that you hadn’t done something wrong. Heather had a grip on your thigh, though instead of her normal soothing thumb rubbing against your skin, her fingers simply clutched at your body, reminding you of her presence.

Figuring she had elsewhere to be, you slipped out of the SUV, thanking her for the bit of dinner you’d gotten. She chuckled darkly, and your eyes widened as she briefly spoke to her driver before following you out of the car. The tense air continued until you were upstairs in your condo, the door finally shut behind you before you could even think about relaxing, though, with her behind you, you weren’t sure if that was to come. You kicked off your heels, dropping your purse to a chair, timidly turning to her.

“What’s going on?”

“That is exactly what I should be asking you.” There was a growl to her voice you weren’t familiar with, and it nearly made you jump, “who the fuck were you texting with all night?”

“A friend.” You shot back, shocked at her sudden worry with it, “I already told you that.”

“They sure seem like more than a friend. I do know how to recognize flirting kitten.”

“Oh my god!” You huffed, rolling your eyes, “you’re being ridiculous, she’s just a friend! And what do you even mean? Were…were you going through my phone!?”

You let out a quiet gasp as Heather’s hand shot out, gripping tightly around your jaw, pulling your gaze back to hers, a fire behind her eyes you’d never seen before.

“You do remember our rules, right? You remember that Mommy fucking owns you? You have no right to be out there flirting and getting involved with other people. That was part of the fucking contract!” She forcefully pushed your head out of her hand, causing you to take a step backwards, nearly stumbling over yourself.

“What are you talking about?”

“Who the fuck is this so called Strawberry Gremlin?”

“She’s the girl from work! I told you about her, the one who has a crush.” You were baffled, never having seen Heather like this before.

“And you swear you’re not seeing her?”

“Heather! No!” You tried not to wince at the glare she shot you, “she’s just a friend! She’s way too young for me anyways, please, come on.”

Heather let out a huff, rolling her eyes at your near begging, quickly pouring herself a glass of whiskey from the shelf in your kitchen. She took a moment to suck it back, her fiery gaze drinking you in before she spoke.

“So who are you fucking then?” Her hands were gripped to the side of your island.

“What?”

“Your messages!” Her voice hardened once again.

“So you were snooping through my phone?”

“Did I not make it very clear that I fucking own you?” She growled and you winced, “any and everything you do I am privy to.”

“What the fuck do you want to know Heather?!” You decided to try your luck, sassing her as you stepped toward her, not surprised when her hand collided with your face again, tightly grabbing your cheek.

“Even if you’re not fucking this so called gremlin, you’ve clearly been breaking the rules. You clearly have been dating someone else, someone that you’ve been with long enough that you have feelings for. And you want to be with them, I thought our restrictions were clear.”

“They are M’am…”

“Then did you not remember me telling you that you were not allowed to fuck someone else?!”

You dared glance up at Heather, part of you terrified, part of you knowing that she must feel at least somewhat similar to you. She had been so fucking soft, so considerate and caring, part of you felt like you belonged together, no matter what garbage real life brought you.

“I never did…” you held her gaze, starting to waver.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“The person I was texting about was…you.” You admitted, tears starting to blur your eyes at the confession as worry shot through you, starting to realize what a hole you’d dug yourself into. The tears simply amplified at the sound of Heather’s dark laugh, the way she tightly squeezed at your chin before dropping her hand from your face.

“Oh you can’t be fucking serious kitten.” She laughed, picking up her bag again, “did you seriously think I gave a shit about you?”

“But..” you choked suddenly, trying to hold back the cries, determined to stay strong in front of her, “you….I…I thought you cared…..”

“Oh kitten…” the tone in her voice was no longer praise, “you were nothing but a fucking plaything,” she watched as your face fell, rolling her eyes at the quiver in your lip. She should’ve known better, should have seen this coming, she knew you were too soft to keep something like this going for so long, “did….you seriously think…that what?! I was just going to up leave my husband for you? Sacrifice everything that I’ve built? The career I’ve worked my ass off to get? Just for little old you?”

“I..I’m not sure?” You dared to glance up at her, doing your best not to cry, Heather took one look at you and laughed softly.

“God you’re pathetic.” She rolled her eyes, “you were a sex toy, you are a sex toy, and that is it.” She centred herself in front of you, grasping at your shoulders, pulling your attention, “maybe it’s time you take a step back kitten. I’ll give you a couple of days to try and deal with this, cope with some bullshit, once you remember that this is only sex, and that is the only thing it was ever supposed to be, maybe we’ll be able to pick things back up again.”

“M’am… I”—

Heather cut you off with a stern look, instantly silencing you as you ducked your gaze from hers, feeling her eyes and rage burning into your skin.

“I said…no.” She paused for a moment, waiting to see if you were about to defy her again, “good girl. Now… you better behave, I have other places to be.” She moved through your apartment swiftly before she stopped in the door to nearly scoff at you, “god, I thought you were so much better than this.”

The door shut before you could even think of responding, your brain scrambling to think about how to go about it, knowing how needy and pathetic it would seem if you tried to chase after her. You wanted to prove to her that you could do this, that you could still keep going with your arrangement, but right now, in the heat of the moment, all you could feel was hurt. You could have sworn that she felt something for you beyond casual companionship, she’d been so nurturing and sweet, but it turned out that was all a façade, false hope building your emotions up higher and higher with each day. You had felt truly cared about, protected and almost loved. Now you felt like a fucking idiot. Of course someone like Heather would never actually love someone like you. She was right, it had been a written, agreed upon situation from the start.

You wiped away your tears, trying to calm yourself down as your mind started to spiral, worried what this all meant. If you were no longer able to supply her with sex, or the companionship she desired, you weren’t entirely sure what that meant for your end of the bargain. Part of you was compelled to instantly start searching for another job, wondering if you should pack up some of your things, just disappear from the life you’d been living.

Instead, you grabbed a beer from the fridge, and moved to the couch, flicking on the t.v in an attempt to distract yourself. It was just one disagreement, one stupid slip of the tongue on your part, at most all you had to do was lie to yourself, say that things were fine, that your feelings has disappeared, and hope that Heather didn’t see through those lies. You could keep up appearances as long as you needed to, or until you’d managed to compel similar feelings from her too.

it was only after a few rounds of channel surfing that you landed on the t.v guide. You couldn’t help the small laugh that broke out of your lips, the coincidence after everything that had gone on today, and you realized something that would at least temporarily help you feel better. Picking up your phone, you opened your conversation with Becca, no longer caring what Heather thought. She had told you to take a step back, hadn’t she?

‘Hey, sorry about earlier. It appears the movie channel is about to start a Gremlins marathon… if you’re not busy?’

‘I thought you were the busy one tonight?’

‘I don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll send an uber your way? Unless you don’t want to?’

‘Give me ten to be downstairs and I’m totally ready’

‘Perfect.’

__________ @lesbianologist @screenee @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @laurenhope13 @imlike-so-gaydude @svulife-rl @gay-ass-bitch @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @paulson-hargitay @molllss @solemnnova @svushots @nocreditinthestraightworld @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @thatgaygiraffesquirrelgirl @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @rosiewritesagain @imaginaryoperagloves @wandasbrat @lustvolle-liebe @Disn3y7 @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @swimmingstudentchaos891 @anne-gillettes-wh0r3 @season4scullyhair @whimsicallymad @alexusonfire @mmmmokdok @lazarettta @muscatmusic18 @sia2raw @ladysc @season4scullyhair @dxtery @holycrapraewth @ms-calhoun

#Heather dunbar #Heather dunbar x reader #jackie sharp #house of cards #classified affairs

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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Could you possibly do a fic with Bakugo and Todoroki based on the lines from the song confident “she said it’s her first time” “I think she might’ve lied”

Where one of the boys are going on about their night with y/n and how it was their first time and the other says “I think she might’ve lied” and so on lol, thank you:)

I,,,, this ask,,,, I like it.

•She Might've Lied•

Summary: What the ask says lmao. Based off of the song Confident by Justin Bieber and Chance the Rapper. (College AU for legal reasons.)

Warnings: Oral (female receiving), mild overstim, multiple orgasms, mentions of a blowjob.

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Reader, mentions of Katsuki Bakugo x Reader (All aged up, 18+)

A/N: This turned into total fuckboy Todoroki but I am NOT mad about it, I simp aggressively. This is what my brain produced, I hope you like it! Thank you so much for such a fun request! I really enjoyed writing this.

Word Count: 1,428

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Shoto- oh my God- fuck- fuck- fuck." You pant, back arching as you fist the sweat soaked sheets beneath you.

You shiver as he pulls you apart and works you over. Everything inside you feels so tight and hot and good.

The tip of his tongue zeroes in on your clit and your whole body jolts back, almost afraid of how incredible it feels.

"Fuck no." He growls before throwing an arm over your hips so he can keep you glued to the mattress.

He slides the other hand up the outside of your thigh before delivering a harsh slap to the meat of your hip.

Your head is thrown back as you whimper out his name, hands flying to his hair as your walls start to flutter.

He's not even using his damn fingers, he's ruining you with his tongue alone.

He drops his jaw and flicks his tongue against your swollen bud with fervent speed, your eyes cross and you cry out with little to no shame.

"There! Fuck! Right there, baby, you got it." You sob out, hips rocking as much as they can under his strong arm.

Everything builds and snaps at once. Ribbons of silky pleasure shoot up your spine and down your legs as your core clamps around nothing.

And he doesn't fucking stop.

He moves with urgency, with dedication. His hands grab under your knees before he pushes up to fold your legs to your chest.

"Hold these." He demands with his mouth still against your cunt.

"I cant- fuck! I can't…" You twitch as his tongue works relentlessly, body slowly but surely becoming overstimulated.

"You fuckin' better." He says, voice dropping to a bone chilling tone. He glares up at you, eyebrows knit together as sweat drips from the crown of his two toned hair.

"Holy shit." You sigh as you take your legs from him with a weak hold, prying yourself open for him.

"Atta girl." As soon as you have a hold of your legs, his hands are free to carry out his dirty work.

One comes up to play with your tits as the other slides down to join his mouth at your center. His long, skilled fingers slide in. They find that perfect spot instantly, rubbing at it as he pulls you closer and closer to the edge before you've even stopped cumming the first time.

"Sho! I'm gonna- oh my fucking god-" Your words turn into strangled cries as your whole body turns to mush.

You feel the tears fall, your cunt pulse, your vision blur and you just scream. Goosebumps are all over your skin as your toes curl and your whole body trembles.

He just licks and licks and licks. Slurping and savoring everything you give him. He's always so nasty with it, always so dedicated to reducing you to a sweaty, sobbing mess.

"That's it, that's my good girl." He pulls his mouth away only to mutter those sweet words.

His fingers still move slowly within you, working to help you ride the aftershocks of the mind numbing back to back orgasms he's just given you.

"You're always so messy." He muses, finally pulling his fingers out so he can run them between your folds and gather your release.

You watch with your jaw dropped, panting and overwhelmed. He brings the cream covered fingers to his mouth, tongue lolling out to make a show of tasting you before he closes his lips around them completely.

"You a dirty girl?" He asks after he pops his fingers out. He starts to crawl up your body, caging you with his arms.

You loathe the fact that he's still fully clothed, while you lay completely bare beneath him.

You just nod, eyes wide and mouth agape as he presses his lips between your breasts.

His eyes flick up to yours, eyes full of sin and depravity.

"Whose dirty girl?" He asks against your skin.

"Yours, I'm your dirty girl." You say with a weak, unreliable voice.

"That's fuckin' right." He kisses a trail up to your throat, under your jaw, and finally your lips.

"Don't forget that." He whispers before hopping up to his feet far too quickly.

He always does this, rips you apart then saunters away like it's nothing.

You two have been going at it for months now, a very tense friends with benefits relationship. More benefits than friends, though. You occasionally share a laugh, help each other with homework when you have time, but most of the time you just fuck.

"Where are you going?" You ask, still reeling as your nerves twitch and fire.

"Boys night, I'm late." He flips his hair a little before winking at you.

"Don't look so heartbroken, I'll be back later." He laughs as he pinches your cheek.

"I'm not heartbroken, fuck off." You smack his hand away, pulling a blanket around you before you roll off the bed and walk to the bathroom.

"Katsuki's coming over later, don't bother." You quip as you round the corner.

"Oh I forgot, he's a big fan of those sloppy seconds then, yeah?"

Bastard. A big part of your arrangement is the no strings attached part, meaning you can both fuck anyone else, as long as you let each other know about it.

Katsuki Bakugo had been trying to get into your pants for months. You'd finally gone down on him the other night during a movie, successfully blowing his mind.

You'd told the poor fool you'd never sucked a dick before, just to make him feel special. His ego didn't need to boost, but he sure got off to the thought of being the first person to fuck your pretty little mouth.

"He's a big fan of a good fuck." You snap as you turn the shower on.

Shoto comes up to lean against the door frame behind you, looking absolutely delicious in his joggers and his adidas shirt.

"You two have that in common then." He smiles wolfishly before slapping your ass.

"Make sure you wash the sheets before he comes, you made a pretty big mess." He calls out to you before strolling out of your dorm room.

You roll your eyes and huff as you drop the blanket and step into the shower.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"I'm not fucking lying, she was such a whore about it, but she said she'd never done it before." Bakugo explains to a laughing Kirishima and Denki.

"Who's a whore?" Shoto waltzes into the common room where the rest of the boys wait for him.

"That cute chick you're always studying with, apparently she's got a freaky side." Sero chuckles, only making Bakugo turn a brighter shade of red.

"Oh yeah?" Shoto raises his eyebrows, glancing at Bakugo.

"She's fucking insane, best blowjob I've ever had. Not that you would know what that's like, icey hot." Bakugo sneers, arms crossing as he reclines into his chair.

"Dude, there's no way she was that good if she'd never done it before." Denki says, leaning forward as he shakes his head.

"I'm serious you sparky asshole, she said it was her first time!" Bakugo snarls.

Shoto can't help the bark of the laugh that leaves him, he runs his hands through his hair, then notices just how wet his chin feels.

"I think she might've lied." He sighs as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand, pulling it away to see some of your slick shining on the skin.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bakugo grumbles, glaring at Shoto.

"You can tell dude, you've seen the way she walks into a room." He explains, so full of himself after spending the last half hour between your legs.

"What, did she fuck you too?" Bakugo stands up, chest puffed up as he strides towards Shouto.

"Nah." He sighs as sinks into one of the chairs, ignoring Bakugo's advances.

"I fucked her." Shoto grins up at Bakugo, every jaw in the room drops before the rest of the boys start to hoot and laugh.

Kirishima jumps up to hold Bakugo back as he spews profanities at cocky Shouto. Sero and Denki are beside themselves, wheezing clapping as Shouto sits and enjoys the chaos he's created.

It's safe to say you won't be seeing Katsuki tonight, but you will be seeing a lot of Shoto.

#todoroki shouto #shouto smut #shouto bnha #todoroki #todoroki smut #bakugo katsuki #fuckboi #mha smut #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #my hero fanfic #shouto x reader #shouto x you #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x you

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lunaralight09 · 3 years

Note

Could you do books that the scps might read?

Books that the SCPs might read

SCP 035 Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins Anna is shipped off to boarding school in Paris where she meets the super-charming Etienne, and that's when things get interesting. I was a squealing, giggly, mush-fest all the while through reading this book. Stephanie Perkins knows just how to turn a seemingly ordinary love story into an unputdownable read. SCP 040 Your Brain Needs a Hug: Life, Love, Mental Health, and Sandwiches Just the title of this book by Rae Earl makes us feel a little lighter. And we don’t know about you, but our brains could definitely use a hug right now. While the book is geared towards teens, we found Earl’s advice to be relevant for all ages — particularly for anyone who struggles with depression, anxiety, social media addiction, and self-esteem issues. TBH, pretty much anyone can benefit from this book! SCP 049 And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini And the Mountains Echoed is such an amazing and heartwarming read. It's about a pair of siblings that fate cruelly separates and then finally reunites. A must-read for its simple yet gripping narration and amiable characters. SCP 049-j The Red Notebook by Antoine Laurain This is a French romance novella, and basically a love letter to book lovers. There's mystery, romance, and some of the most beautifully crafted sentences and paragraphs I have ever read. The ending is so sweet, even though you wonder how you ever got there so soon. SCP 053 Lulu and the Rabbit Next Door by Hilary McKay Lulu and her cousin help their neighbor Arthur learn to love and care for his (neglected) rabbit. She doesn’t want her neighbor to feel bad so she writes the rabbit little notes with helpful gifts signed from her own pet rabbit named Thumper. It’s a kind way to show Arthur how to take care of his new pet SCP 073 HumanKind: Changing the World One Small Act At a Time Looking for heart-warming stories of kindness and compassion? HumanKind by Brad Aronson was made for you. But the book isn’t only full of uplifting stories that will move you to happy tears, it’s also packed with practical and actionable tips for how to be kinder in your everyday. One thing is for sure: after you put this book down, you’ll feel inspired to do something nice for someone else. And because of that, we think this is one of the best books on the planet! SCP 076 Do Unto Animals We absolutely DEVOURED this book by Tracey Stewart. Whether you’re looking for tips on how to better understand skunks and squirrels or read your pet’s body language, every page is full of compassionate wisdom about to treat animals in a way that they deserve. Also, the illustrations are absolutely beautiful — we nearly wanted to pet the pages because the animal drawings were so lovable. SCP 079 Walden (Henry David Thoreau) With the outdoorsman renaissance happening as we speak, it is nice to look back at one of the books that probably started it. Walden isn’t the bore you read back in middle school, it takes time to appreciate like a nice bottle of red. Thoreau’s masterpiece tackles so much while quietly nudging your brain into activity. It also makes you want to build a cabin SCP 096 Black Beauty by Anna Sewell Told from the perspective of the horse, this story is so beautifully written that it's easy to get lost in it's pages. I laughed and cried, as did my daughter when she read it. SCP 105 Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury Warm and fuzzy the whole way through, Dandelion Wine is by far the best story to make you feel good. Though I'm not the correct age to directly relate to the young adult story, I still felt the warm summer days and the wonder of it all. SCP 106 Catch-22 – Joseph Heller “War is hell,” is the old adage we all know, but Catch-22 looks to modify that a bit. Instead, war becomes super goddamn weird. The book follows a bomber squadron in the Second World War whose collective sanity is slowly being eroded by whatever passes for power. Throughout it all, the main character keeps trying to prove himself insane enough to be kicked out of the Navy, which is precisely why he can’t

be kicked out. Which is a catch 22 and yes, this is where the phrase comes from. It’s a great extrapolation of quirks and idiosyncrasies we see in day to day life, only this time, they’re affecting war SCP 134 (I know she don't have eyes . But there is a books for blind people) A Mango-Shaped Space by Wendy Mass A Mango-Shaped Space is about a 13-year-old girl with synesthesia (she can see, taste, and hear colors) and her journey in getting a diagnosis and accepting herself and all her differences. It's sort of a coming-of-age story, too. As someone with multiple chronic illnesses who has gone through the same process at the same age, this really was an incredible reading experience. One of my favorite quotes is "We all do the best we can, trying to keep all the balls in the air at once." I recommend it to everyone. SCP 173 Rabbit, Run (John Updike) The greatest mid-life crisis novel of all time doesn’t actually deal with a mid-life crisis at all. Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom is 26 when he decides to leave his wife and son for a new life. Of course, what that new life is, and what exactly he wants out of it isn’t clear to the reader or to Rabbit himself. It will strike a cord with all men who struggle with the idea of settling down. SCP 239 The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling SCP 682 THE WOLF AND THE WATCHMAN BY NIKLAS NATT OCH DAG If you're the kind of person that can't get enough of Scandi noir films, TV shows and literature, then Niklas Natt och Dag's The Wolf And The Watchman should be next on your reading list. Set in 18th-century Stockholm, this tale is as dark as it gets, following the titular watchman and a detective as they hunt down the killer behind a dismembered corpse that appears in a local pond. As gruesome as it is gripping, it's the perfect literary companion as the nights get longer and increasingly eerie. SCP 847 The Case Against Satan by Ray Russell Two priests are called in to examine a girl who might be possessed by the devil. The Exorcist, right? Nope, it’s Ray Russell‘s The Case Against Satan, a novel of theological horror that beat William Peter Blatty’s book to print by eight years. The Case Against Satan is as much the story of a crisis of faith as it is a supernatural tale, and readers looking for a nuanced take on both should give it a try SCP 953 THE PILLOW BOOK BY SEI SHŌNAGON If you want to learn a bit more about the Japan of the past – and also, weirdly, all of us in the present – The Pillow Book is a cult classic you should absolutely try. Sei Shōnagon was a lady-in-waiting in the court of Empress Teishi in the year 1000 and here she collects her thoughts and musings about court life. To read a woman more than 1,000 years ago being as philosophical, neurotic and scandalous as anyone is today on social media is a thrill that lasts from the start to the end. SCP 1678 Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden Absolutely moving, the struggles Sayuri faces are painted so beautifully by Arthur Golden's masterful craft that you totally empathize with her as she grows and triumphs in a world designed to see her fail. The ultimate conclusion of the novel fills me with such warmth — it's both entirely unexpected and wholeheartedly appreciated.

#scp foundation #scp #scp 035 #scp 040 #scp 049 #scp 049-j #scp 073 #scp 076 #scp 079 #scp 096 #scp 105 #scp 106 #scp 134 #scp 173 #scp 239 #scp 682 #scp 847 #scp 953 #scp 1678 #scps #books

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quinncupine · 3 years

Text

Obscured Chapter Eight: Belly of the Beast

Chapter Word Count: 6,440

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Female Reader

Previous Chapter: Seven

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Kidnappings, violence, language, blood, near-death experiences, drugs

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think!

...

A steel-toed boot to the chest woke Izuku up. He sucked in a breath and his eyes shot open. His brain felt like mush and every inch of his body ached. Something heavy and cold constrained his arms, hands pulled so far behind him that the tips of his fingers brushed against his shoulder blades and strained his bruised ribs. Layers of heavy metal chains had wrapped around him like a cocoon, which forced him to sit on his knees.

"Oh, looks like Sleeping Beauty finally awakes," an electronic voice mused. "Took your sweet time, didn't ya?"

Izuku tried to blink away the blurriness. He'd felt the effects of a sedative before; they weren't fun. If the chains weren't holding him upright, he would've fallen over. Through the pounding headache and general drowsiness, he managed to look up at his captor.

It was a mask he would recognize anywhere. Kabuki.

"You look dumbfounded." Kabuki crouched in front of him. "Or maybe just dumb."

He looked around, taking in his surroundings. In the dim light, he could make out steel beams in front of him. Two sets that ran parallel to each other, and lined by thick cement barricades. Two sets of rail tracks ran on either side of the beams in a large trench. He was sitting on the raised platform in what looked like some sort of abandoned subway station: complete with faded graffiti, piles of molded trash, and even a decayed staircase that went nowhere. A train whistled around the corner and a few moments later, rushed through, not bothering to slow down.

He blinked hard and forced his brain to start the gears. His memory was a little fuzzy; drugs tend to have that effect. How did he end up here? What was he doing last? He had left the hospital with you, that much he remembered. Then...then the car had been attacked. The bridge blew and you fell. You fell. The pieces slowly came together until they all clicked. His head shot up, eyes roaming around the rusted station in a panic.

"Looking for someone?" Kabuki cocked his head.

Izuku forced his attention back to him. "Where is she?"

"Ah, don't you worry about that," he shrugged. "It's just you and me right now. I wanted some one-on-one time with you."

Izuku flexed his fingers, another mini panic jolted through him when he didn't feel his quirk. "Why?"

"Haven't figured it out yet?" He stood up. "What a shame. And here I thought you were supposed to be the clever one. Hmm, maybe I gave you too much credit." He crossed his arms. "You don't even know who I am."

He tested the binds. With his strength gone and his head still a little fuzzy, it would be a lot more difficult to break free. He needed a plan, and fast.

"I know exactly who you are," he said.

"Oh really?" Kabuki laughed. "Do enlighten me then."

"You were the one who killed the Hashira. You also killed an officer, Officer Manaka. The two don't connect unless you trace back to three years ago." He explained as he wracked his brain for an escape route. "I looked into his records. He'd been receiving large sums of money for years from false accounts. The Hashira had him on their payroll. He would look the other way whenever they were involved and even helped cover up their mistakes. He was a dirty cop." He worked on getting his fingers free while he talked. "You were the first to figure it out."

"What's with the long story?" He put his hands on his hips. "You know, I've always hated how you ramble, it's annoying."

"The Hashira killed your family didn't they?." He said and Kabuki tensed. "It's why you targeted them. You killed Officer Manaka because he worked for them. It's why you killed any criminal you came across, warranted or not. It's why you became the Metal Hero Cobalt; to prevent what happened to you from happening to others. Isn't that right, Ikari?"

The two stared at each other in silence before Kabuki broke into laughter, which sounded pretty weird coming from an electronic mask. He pulled the long hood of his coat back before slipping the mask off. Blue locks of hair fell free, revealing the face of a young woman.

"Got it all figured out, huh?" She looked down at her mask. "I am glad you remember me. It would've been awkward if you didn't."

"You were a hero, Ikari," Izuku said. "Look at what you're doing, this isn't you."

"Don't pretend to know me." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare forget that I'm not a hero anymore because of you."

"You know why." He said. "But that doesn't mean you have to become this."

"This?" A finger trailed down the center of the mask before she chucked it at him. "You're exactly the reason I had to do this! Everything that happened, everything that will happen, it's your fault Deku."

The mask bounced off his chest and landed at his feet. The empty eyes seemed to bore into him, mocking him.

"Blaming me doesn't make what you did any less wrong." The chains seemed to tighten around him on their own, but he still continued. "Those people didn't deserve to die. You can't play judge, jury, and executioner. You're acting like Stain."

"Stain?" She cocked her head. "You think I'm like Stain? He might've had the right idea, but he didn't know how to execute it properly. He killed any hero that got in his way...well, except for you." She tapped her chin. "You fought him the night he was captured, didn't you? Of course, that's not the official story anyway, but you were the one to take him out."

Izuku didn't say anything so she continued. "The problem with Stain is that he was too focused on the killing and not the actual changing. You should've been rewarded with taking him out, instead, you were threatened into silence and let that lava-brained oaf take all the credit. That's one of the many problems with the hero system. No one understands what true justice is anymore, instead jumping through red tape to make themselves look good. The wicked should be punished to the full extent. The heroes of this world need a major overhaul, and Japan will be the first to witness it."

"So you want to kill me, is that it?" He managed to slip a few fingers free. "And then what?"

"Ah, look at that, you got me monologuing." She chuckled. "You think you can get me to reveal my master plan? I'm well aware of hero tactics. Besides, what fun is there unless you figure it out when it's already too late? Let's see how much longer you can call yourself hero."

The ground rumbled as a train raced through the station on the closest track. The noise reverberated off the walls, making Izuku's headache that much worse.

"You brought me here for a reason." His wrist slipped free, but the rest of his arm was still trapped behind his back. "For some sort of retribution. Revenge."

"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you think." She bent down and patted his cheek. "No, I think you'll be more than capable of that yourself."

If she was going for ominous, she nailed it. Although he wasn't too sure of the 'no hurting' part. Villains don't just kidnap someone and bring them to an abandoned subway station in who-knows-where to have a nice chat. She was up to something, but the 'what' was still unclear.

The air beside them bent into a point before it expanded back out, bringing two people with it, both of which he recognized. A disturbing copy of himself holding onto what he prayed wasn't the real you. The 'what' suddenly became crystal clear.

"Gah, shit!" Fake Izuku toppled over, clutching his leg that had turned into a popsicle. "That damn bastard!"

You fell on your butt and scuttled backward, running into the decayed staircase. Your head swiveled around, taking in the new environment before finally landing on him.

"Izuku?" You asked.

All he could do was stare. You were still in your house clothes and slippers. Hair hung loosely around your head and he could see dark bags under your wide eyes. His escape plan just got upgraded to an emergency.

His face darkened and he turned his deadly glare on Ikari. "She's got nothing to do with this. It's me you're angry with."

Ikari looked over at you curiously. "Oh, but I went through all the trouble of bringing her here and you don't even say hello to your wife?" She headed your way. "It's awfully rude to ignore guests."

The chains dug into his skin as he struggled to free himself, he no longer cared about being discreet. One of the many parts bolted into the walls broke free. The chains themselves only coiled tighter, pressing into his lungs.

"Ikari, stop!"

She made a beeline for you with a smirk that spelled anything but nice. You used the broken down canopy that covered the stairs to pull yourself up and looked around for something to use for defense.

Ikari stopped short and turned to Fake Izuku, who was looking less and less like him by the second. Green hair had grown out to his shoulder and turned a rusty red. His muscular frame shrunk into more feminine shape. His face changed completely. The imposter wasn't a man at all, but it was someone you both recognized. You'd seen her enough on the news, giving the morning traffic reports from her helicopter. The same reporter who had gone missing, along with the helicopter that stole Izuku away.

"You're late Shizue." Ikari looked down at the woman.

Shizue, who was still nursing her frozen leg, looked up. "Well obviously I ran into some complications." She grumbled. "But I got the girl."

"You were supposed to get both." Ikari rubbed her forehead. "It was a simple snatch and run. Please tell me you didn't play actor again."

"What was I supposed to do? There were heroes there. You never said anything about heroes." She complained. "You said it would be easy, just off some officers and we're good to go." She got up and carefully tested her weight on the icicle of a leg. "Besides, it was a golden opportunity to try out my latest one." She held her hand over her leg and the ice shattered.

Ikari closed her eyes and shook her head before she set her focus back on you. "I'm glad you could make it Y/N. It wouldn't be any fun without you."

You glanced back at Izuku and noticed the mask lying on the ground next to him. It was a Kabuki mask. The same Kabuki mask that everyone had been working so hard to find.

"So you're Kabuki." You gripped the metal railing behind you. "Didn't expect you to be a girl."

She chuckled and leaned in close. "What? Ladies can't take initiative too?" Her hand reached for your chin and you pressed against the rail in an effort to avoid her. She snagged your face and forced you to look at her. "Do you know why you're here?"

You glanced at Izuku, who struggled in his binds. "To...kill me." The words were barely audible, but Izuku still seemed to hear.

He stopped struggling for a second to look at you, tears had pooled in his eyes and threatened to spill over. You two locked eyes. He was trying to communicate so many things with one look.

"Now why would I do that? You just got here." She pulled you off the stairs, slung an arm around your shoulders, and marched over to Izuku. "I'm sure you're dying to talk to him though." She laughed at her own joke. You did not.

She stopped a few feet from Izuku, who glared up at her. "She's innocent. Just let her go and I promise I'll stay."

Ikari frowned. "Innocent? What about all the others then? Weren't they innocent too?" She dug her nails into your shoulder. "Because of you, they're dead. Because of you, I couldn't save them. Because of you, I was forced to run while you went on to become the Number One Hero. A bit ironic, isn't it?"

She released you, only to grab your hair and yank you back into her so she could loop an arm around your throat.

"Call me a villain, I don't care anymore." From her sleeve, a thin metal arrow slowly slid out. "Titles won't matter for much longer anyway." She looked at Izuku. "You ruined everything I had achieved in just a few days." The sharp tip of the arrow rested just below your chin and slightly dug in. "What would you do if I ruined yours in just a few seconds?" The sharp tip tore through the skin as she drew a thin line across.

You frantically tried to tear her off with a terrified yelp. She didn't cut in very far, but it still hurt all the same.

Izuku went crazy, he thrashed so hard that three bolts ripped off the wall, giving him more room to move. The chains around him squeezed so hard he lost his breath, but it didn't deter him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Ikari threatened, lifting your head back to expose more of your throat. "Unless you do want me to kill her right here, right now."

"What do you want?" He stilled and gave his best I will destroy you glare.

"Hmm?" She tapped the blade against your throat. "I believe you already know that."

The blade retracted back into her sleeve and she threw you to the ground, by his feet. You scooted away from her, bumping into Izuku behind you. One hand held your neck and the other grabbed hold of his shirt. The small incision wasn't deep or all that concerning, even if it did dribble down in a steady flow. Cuts always bleed worse than they really are, at least that's what you told yourself.

"Are you okay?" You glanced at him.

He blinked. "Me?" He shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I'll get you out of here".

You nodded. If Izuku says he's going to do something, then he finds a way to do it. The problem was that doing just that would be a lot more challenging without his quirk, which was somehow being suppressed at the moment.

"Big words for a man in your position." Ikari pulled out a small pouch from her coat and tossed it between her hands. "But don't worry, I came bearing gifts."

She snapped her fingers and Shizue hobbled over to you and yanked you to your feet. You struggled against her as she dragged you away.

Izuku yelled at her, trying his best to worm himself out of the chains. The problem was that Ikari had full control over metal and any attempt he made at breaking free, she would only restrain him further.

With one of Shizue's legs still damaged, you exploited it and pushed into her as hard as you could. Her arms windmilled before she crashed to the ground. You had no idea what to do. Should you run and get to safety? That's what he would want you to do. Or should you try and free him? There was no way to get past Ikari, break the chains, and escape.

"Go!" He could see your hesitance. "Run!"

A mini tug-of-war battle waged in your mind. You would be no help if you stayed. But if you ran, would she just kill him anyway? It was a choice you didn't really have time to debate. Ikari brought you here for a reason: to hurt Izuku. Running was your best option. If you could just find some heroes to help, then you could help him. You took off.

Shizue clamored to her feet, muttering something about doing all the work and took off after you with a heavy limp. Even though her leg was messed up, she was still pretty fast.

Your first thought was the stairs, but one look at them and you needed to rethink. The entire thing had been sealed off with clumps of random metal all fused together. There was no way you'd be getting out that way.

Shizue grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. You grabbed hold of the railing to steady yourself, but one of the poles snapped off and you lost your balance. You toppled into her and you both went down. The pole landed next to you, so you grabbed it and scrambled away from her. She grabbed your foot as you stood and you whacked her hand with the pole. She let you go with a scream and clutched her hand.

That was your chance, so you got back to your feet and sprinted down the platform. The station itself wasn't all that big and you found yourself at the end of the platform in no time, with no where else to go. As far as you could tell, the only exit was the blocked off staircase. Across the tracks was another platform with another set of stairs, but if the villains were smart, they would've blocked that too. There was another option, a much more dangerous option. You could always run down the tracks and try to escape through another station, but you'd have to be faster than a train. The horn sounded from the tunnel, yeah, there was no way you'd outrun a train.

The collar of your sweater was yanked back, nearly choking you as she grabbed you from behind. She had a handful of sweater, so you twisted around and ducked out. The fabric ripped and you stumbled back. Damn, that was one of your favorite sweaters too, Inko had gotten it for you a few Christmas's ago.

You didn't realize how close to the edge you were and one foot slipped off. Shizue was actually the one to save you from the fall. She grabbed your collar as you tipped off the edge, but didn't make any effort to pull you back up. Your fingers scrabbled at her jacket in an effort to hang on and your hand smacked the device around her waist.

The ground rumbled as the lights of the train flooded the tunnel. The tracks squealed as the train rushed into the station.

"Shizue." Ikari warned.

Shizue didn't take her eyes off you, a sadistic smile on her face. "Oops." She let go and you fell off the platform, right onto the tracks of the speeding train.

Izuku wrenched out the last of the bolts keeping him locked in place and fell forward, struggling with the coiling chains. He screamed and writhed, making every effort to escape, but without the strength of his quirk, he couldn't break out of Ikari's.

The train didn't even slow down and after a few moments, left the station. Shizue peered over the edge and crossed her arms. All that was left was a slipper.

"Shizue!" Ikari barked. "You idiot! That wasn't the plan!"

Shizue rolled her eyes, still clutching her hand as she made her way back over. "Chill out, geez. She was gonna die anyway."

"You are ruining my plans." She stepped closer to Shizue. "I don't care how important you think you are, if you do that again, I will kill you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Yeah? Well good luck finding someone else to make your supply."

The two women glared at each other before Ikari took a deep breath and turned back to an enraged Izuku. There was a murderous look on his face that even caused her some pause.

She knelt in front of him, dumping some shiny blue powder into her hand. "That's a bit disappointing, but at least I can still test my new blend."

"My new blend." Shizue mumbled behind her.

Izuku managed to get back to his knees, the chains struggling to hold him in. He was silent as he brought his head up, making eye contact with her. The air seemed to take on weight as his eyes bore into hers with such malice.

"Don't give me that look." She said, leaning away from him. "You know this is your fault Deku. Take some responsibility." She blew the powder in his face just as he headbutted her.

The bag flew out of her hand as she fell back, holding her nose. It was too late though, the powder clouded around his head and he gagged on it. He tried to hack it out, but powder clung to him, coating his mouth and throat. He choked and fell onto his stomach, face pressed into the ground.

Ikari stood up, holding her bloody nose. "Let's go."

Shoto gripped the wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. They'd left the house once the police arrived to take over. Momo sat in the back with Inko, who had retreated back into her silent shock. No one had spoken a word since they left.

Ochaco had been carted away to the hospital. She'd lost a lot of blood and was barely conscious by the time the ambulance arrived. Shoto had managed to get a few key details from her and had sent Bakugo to the hospital to get the rest of the story.

The three of them were headed to the police station. It was clear Inko was also a target, which meant that she needed a safe, well, a more guarded place, until this was all resolved. At the station, she would have eyes on her at all times. Momo volunteered to stay with her until they found both you and Izuku.

Shoto's phone rang and he answered, the light of an oncoming car illuminated his face. "Chief, we're almost there."

"I've got officers waiting outside for you." Tsukauchi said. "Shinso's still here too."

He nodded. "We're ten minutes out."

He hung up and glanced in the rearview mirror. Momo was staring at Inko, who in turn, was staring out the window, gripping her hands tightly on her lap.

Another phone buzzed, on the seat between the two women. That was Ochaco's phone. It was left behind, so Momo had taken it for safe-keeping. A new text had come through. Momo wasn't one to pry, but given the circumstances, she allowed herself to look. It was only three words. She blinked and read them again.

"Shoto." Momo looked up. They made eye contact through the mirror. "I've got something."

Getting pushed in front of a speeding train was not a fun experience. Your back hit the tracks first, narrowly avoiding that third rail full of high voltage electricity. There was no time to think about the pain that sparked up your spine as you put all your muscles to work and rolled off the tracks, losing one of your slippers in the process. The train barreled through as you landed in the gravel, just inches from the tracks.

You laid there for a moment and let your mind catch up to what just happened as you watched the cars bobble through, the wind blasting your hair back. This wasn't the right time to sit and freak out though, they were still on the other side.

The two tracks were separated by a row of support beams and thick cement barricades. You jumped over one of the barricades and crouched as low as you could. It was wide enough to cover you, as long as they didn't come over to investigate. The train left, leaving a hollow emptiness to the station and you put a hand over your mouth to stifle your heavy breaths.

From the platform, you could hear the two villains arguing with each other, the words were too echoed to hear right, but they didn't seem happy with each other. There sounded like a small scuffle and Izuku yelled, the chains jingled. You didn't dare look, for fear they might see you. Right now, you were at an advantage, and you wanted to keep it that way. Just hide and wait for help, except no one knew where you were.

In your pocket was your phone, well your replacement anyway. The last one was still at the bottom of the river. Ochaco had given this one to you for the time being, in case of emergencies. This would definitely qualify as an emergency.

As quietly as you could, you slipped the phone out. This new one was temporary, which meant that none of your old contacts were transferred yet, and you never took the time to memorize anyone's number. Well, aside from Izuku's, but calling him wouldn't really help at the moment.

Calling was also a problem. It would be too risky to answer anyone's questions, they might hear you. So you'd have to settle for texting. You opened up the phone and almost let out an audible sigh of relief. There was one contact saved into the phone. Ochaco. She must have put her number in before giving it to you.

Your trembling fingers quickly typed out a message and sent it. SOS can't talk.

The station had gone eerily silent, aside from the constant hissing and distant sounds of horns. No voices, no chains, nothing.

The phone dinged and you curled around it, praying no one heard that. When no one came charging into view, you looked down at the response.

Tracking phone. Then a second message. Are you safe? - Momo

You blew out a quiet breath and clutched the phone to your chest. Momo had responded. She would know what to do and she would find you. All you had to do was hold out until then. The only thing that bothered you, aside from the obvious, was the silence.

A quick peek around the barrier and you saw the platform was empty, aside from Izuku, who was sprawled out on the ground, free of his chains. The two villains were nowhere to be seen. Had they just left? That didn't make any sense. Why would they leave when they already had the hero at their mercy? Something else had to be at play.

You focused on Izuku. He was lying face down, but you could see the rise and fall of his chest; he was breathing. Actually, he was breathing to much. It almost looked like he was hyperventilating.

On the phone, you typed out another quick text. Hiding. Two villains. Izuku's here.

After a few moments of watching him struggle to breathe, you couldn't stand it. The villains seemed to have left him for some reason and for all you know, he could be bleeding out, left to die. That was something you couldn't idly watch.

The phone buzzed again. Stay put. Let him handle it. We are coming.

How long would that take? Izuku could be dying and since they didn't come after you, there was a fair chance they thought you might already be dead. Maybe that's all they wanted. To kill you in front of him and then leave him to die.

He's hurt. You typed out.

Not even a second passed before she sent a response. Do NOT engage. Stay hidden.

That was easy to say, but what if you stayed put and he ended up bleeding to death, or died some other way? You might not have been a hero, but you were a nurse and you had to deal with the aftermath of battles and everyday accidents. This was what you were good at, and this is what Izuku needed, so you couldn't just stay hidden. But you did as she said, well, for the first two minutes. It was quiet, you were almost positive they had left.

You stood up, keeping low as you looked around. No one popped out so you hopped over the barricade. Your shoe-less foot stepped on something sharp and you hopped back with a quiet gasp. A small shard of glass stuck out on the bottom of your foot and you plucked it out. The ground was littered with dangerous debris, you'd have to be careful.

The missing slipper was still lying on the tracks, but it was shredded beyond use. Something else caught your eye, lying beside it. You limped over for closer examination. It was a small vial filled with dark liquid. It looked just like one of the vials on Shizue's contraption. You picked it up and the liquid sloshed inside. There was a label on the side with a word scribbled out in neat handwriting: Blacklash. That made no sense to you, but you slipped it into your pocket anyway.

The platform itself was about five feet off the ground. It took a few attempts, but you managed to crawl onto it. Another scan of the area and they were still nowhere to be found. If it was a trap of some sort and Izuku was the bait, then who exactly were they trying to catch? It wasn't you, they could easily find and subdue you without the elaborate scheme. It had to be something else. The other heroes maybe?

"Izuku?" You whispered, standing up.

His breath hitched and his back arched. He flattened his palms on the ground and pressed his face into the cement. A coughing fit wracked his body. There didn't seem to be any new injuries on him, well, no obvious ones anyway.

Since you already lost one, you decided to just take the other slipper off. You made your way over to him, one eye on your surroundings.

"Hey, Izuku," you knelt in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Where did they go? What happened? Are you hurt?"

He refused to move, to look up at you. From his position, you could see the dried blood that coated the top of his head, mangling his hair. He was still injured from the crash and you had no way of knowing what sort of internal injuries he had. One hand clawed at the floor, nails scraped so hard a few of them broke.

"Izuku," you reached for him, but that same hand suddenly lurched out and caught your wrist.

Through his labored breathing, he managed to get a few words out. "Go." He said into the ground. "Get away."

"What?" You stared at his hand, the nails were bloody. "They're gone, we both need to go. Can you stand?"

He lifted his head. Dark spots of blue dust covered his face, mixing with his sweat. He locked eyes with you and you knew something was wrong, like really wrong. His pupils were blown, so much so that you could barely see any green left. His grip on your wrist was tight and it kept getting tighter.

"Ow," you hissed. "Izuku, stop, you're hurting me." You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. You stood up and tried to pry his fingers off, but he was too strong. "Izuku, let go."

He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead back into the floor. "G...go." He said that, yet he squeezed so hard, you felt your bones grind.

On the ground next to him was a small pouch, blue dust spilled out of the top. Those blue spots on his face looked exactly like Kirishima's after he'd been dosed with Kabuki's drug. You knew firsthand how volatile he'd gotten. If Izuku had been dosed with the same thing, then it didn't look good for either of you.

You gasped and fell back to your knees as your bone popped. If he squeezed much harder, your wrist would snap.

"Stop," you clawed at his hand. "Stop!"

He didn't even seem to hear you. His entire body trembled as he slowly pushed himself up; one hand still trying to dig into the ground while the other had an iron clamp on you. His matted hair fell into his face as he looked at you. The expression that crossed his face was something you'd never thought you'd see on him, much less directed at you: pure malice.

He twisted your wrist, drawing you closer and you yelped. Your panicked mind did the only thing it could think of. You slapped him across the face.

He momentarily loosened his grip enough for you to pull away. You fell backward and scurried out of his reach.

He blinked, staring at the ground, hand still raised, clutching nothing but air. It was like his brain was trying to calculate what just happened, and you weren't too keen on sticking around for him to figure it out.

As slow as you dared, you got to your feet, and took quiet steps back. You didn't want anything to set him off, and he was definitely way too unstable to talk with that drug coursing through him. You had to keep reminding yourself that the heroes were on their way.

Izuku let out a shaky groan and grabbed fistfuls of hair, leaning forward. It looked as though he was trying to fight against it, but drugs weren't something easily conquered. You would know, you'd seen enough overdoses come through your E.R. This was still a relatively unknown drug, that as far as you knew, caused extreme aggression.

The problem was that there was nowhere to escape too and very few hiding places. All the exits were sealed and most things had long been looted, leaving very little to work with. A deep horn blared from far off in the left tunnel; another train was coming.

The sound seemed to stir him. Green sparks jumped off his skin. His quirk was back, which was not good news for you. You needed a plan, and fast. Izuku lurched forward, his hands slapping the ground, cracks spiderwebbed out from underneath him. Then he looked up at you, eyes almost entirely black. He looked so un-Izuku-like that you could hardly believe that it was him.

A chill ran down your spine and only one thought came to mind: run.

Behind you, Izuku got to his feet and stumbled for balance. He looked almost drunk. No, that wasn't quite right either. You'd seen him drunk before, he would get all red-faced and giggly, not scary and demonic. This was a side to him you'd never seen before, and it scared you to your core. Even if he was weakened, he was still an incredibly formidable foe, one you'd never thought you'd have to face, yet here you were, running from your demon possessed husband, you know, like any normal couple.

Your phone! You dug it out of your pocket and called Momo. She picked up immediately.

"Y/N. Thank god." She sighed. "Are you okay? What's happening?"

A horn blared from far off down the tunnel as you sprinted to the end of the platform and glanced back at Izuku, who wobbled in place. "No, no. I'm with Izuku, but it's that drug, the same as Kirishima." Faded lights filled the tunnel. "That's why they left! I think, I think he's gonna..." You trailed off, grabbing your hair.

"I've got your location." She sounded so calm, controlled. "I've sent the heroes, they'll be there. Stay calm. Can you find a place to hide?"

"You're not coming?" A new spike of fear pierced your heart.

She was silent for a moment. "I can't. It's too far away, but I promise, help is coming."

"Too far?" You glanced down the tunnel, the floor rumbled as the train approached. "Where am I?"

She seemed hesitant to answer. "New York City."

"America?" You hissed. "How the hell-"

"A teleportation quirk, most likely." She said. "Just stay on the line, they shouldn't be too far off. Just a little longer."

A quick peek back at Izuku had your heart nearly leap into your throat. His eyes were locked onto you, face contorted into a menacing sneer, and lightning flickered off his skin.

"I don't think I have a little longer." You whispered.

He crouched and launched himself at you. For as clumsy as he looked, he was still extremely fast. You only had seconds to jump to the side or be smashed into the wall. Unfortunately, there was no more platform to jump on, which meant you hurled yourself over the edge, right onto the tracks. Something sharp stabbed your thigh and you cried out.

The train entered the station and you scrambled off the tracks, breathing heavy as it raced between the two of you, providing some temporary cover. You needed to move, to hide. Whatever had stabbed your thigh had left a sizable gash, but at least you could still walk on it, so that's what you did.

The only place left to really hide was back behind the barriers. You dove behind them again, hoping to god that his senses had also been dulled. He was the greatest hero in Japan and that title came with some serious battle skills, one's you certainly didn't have.

The train left and you covered your mouth to quiet your breathing. You had a death grip on the phone, but talking now would only reveal your location. Instead, you held it up to your ear, an almost inaudible whine escaped your throat.

Izuku grunted as he pulled himself from the dent in the wall, tile shattering as it fell out. You didn't dare look, but you could hear him shuffling around as the train disappeared down the tunnel.

"Momo." You couldn't help the pathetic mewl that puttered out. This was an entirely new experience. You'd always had that reassurance that if anything ever went wrong, Izuku would always be there to back you up. This time though, they'd turned this into some sort of twisted reversal. That single punch was meant to kill. If he got to you again...

"Hang on, hang on!" She'd lost that calm façade. "I'll-I'll figure this out, I promise!"

The crunch of gravel caught your attention and you pressed your back into the barricade. By the sound of it, he'd jumped off the platform, headed in your direction. A shadow loomed over you and you curled up against the barrier, praying to whatever deity that was listening, that he wouldn't find you.

A few tense moments passed before the shadow disappeared. Not a second later, the entire barricade was ripped from the ground and you fell back with a startled scream. Standing over you was a green-haired beast.

...

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