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yearningandpatheticaboutit · 9 months

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CHAPTER 14: I CANT STAND THIS ANYMORE

wc: 6054

tags: violence, attempted s/a, smut, angst, drugs

a/n: this chapter might be triggering for some people, read at your own risk.

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yaera

i havent been to one of these events since i was fifteen. that doesnt sound like a long time, but considering my sister was still alive then, it certainly felt like forever had passed.

the dress i was given is pretty at least. its black, has long sleeves and looks like it was designed for a sexy vampire. one good thing came out of this shitfest.

but the best part is, i can hide san's drugs within my outfit. im not stashing them in matching black purse because it'll get searched, but the tiny ziplock bags fit perfectly in my sleeves and boob area. this will truly be the riskiest thing ive ever done.

irina and the others even messaged me not to forget the stuff. im so focused on just getting that money the fear i had buried inside me hasnt completely resurfaced yet.

im staring at myself in the mirror, looking at my smokey eye make up. the black hair dye really gave me a morbid yet sexy aesthetic that im not bad about. if i could describe myself in two words, it would be exactly that, morbid and sexy.

the sexy part is what bothers me. i know there are people who would agree all too willingly with that. and its not my target audience.

my room door swings open and my mother walks in. theres a strange look on her face as she takes me in. we say nothing to each other for a few moments till she breaks the silence.

"bellisima," she says, almost under her breath. "we can really never go wrong with santo. he made you look like a princess, even if you look like you are going to a funeral."

my insides squirm at the mention of his name. i tried to ignore it, but the fear i felt in that bathroom is coming back full swing. im seeing him tonight. he'll be waiting for me.

"please don't do this again this year," i stiffly begged. "you need to find someone your own age Santo. I'm...I'm not the one."

santo cocks his head to the side and smirks. "and who told you that? who said you're not perfect for me?"

"i don't fucking want you," I hissed. his eyes widen slightly, more out of sick arousal instead of offense.

he advanced on me and i blinked, finding myself pressed against a stall. i whimpered and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but my arms were pinned to the side. oh my God, I'm going to be sick.

"but I want you, and you know that. so why don't you stop playing games," he whispered dangerously close to my ear. i shivered and my nausea kept tugging at my stomach.

"i'm your only chance at a respectable man. your parents already love me. so why don't you accept the love I have for you? you'll never find anyone like me, tesoro."

"i fucking hope so," i whispered, pinching my eyes closed. he moved his face infront of mine, hovering his lips over mine. I whined and wriggle, but he isn't fazed by my struggling.

"you're a big girl now, right?" he said lowly. "i think it's time you feel like a woman."

i snap out of that awful memory when my mother clicks her fingers infront of my face. "come on, hurry up! we are only waiting on you!"

i cant leave san's side tonight. no matter what.

when i get downstairs, my nearly feel the breath getting knocked out of me. he's standing there, looking more handsome than i've ever seen him. black hair slicked back, eyebrows done. the suit is sitting perfectly. its like he's the model here and not me. god i think im going to be sick.

he gives me a small smile but says nothing.

"doesn't she look perfect, amore mio?" my mother says to my father, who only gives an awkward smile of acknowledgement.

"the two of you can sit at the back of the limo. your mother and i will take the two front seats," my father says, then turns to san with a pointed finger. "dont get any ideas, boy. i know your headmaster personally."

san awkwardly laughs. "i would never, sir."

i try not to wonder how true that is. we pile into the limo and my parents keep looking at us through the rearview, making sure there's a significant gap between us. i look over to him and all the anger i felt before is just gone. i think im fucking whipped.

hes the most beautiful man ive ever seen.

"san..."

"you look really pretty," he tells me before i can say anything. saying that with the most expressionless face makes my face drop.

"oh-"

"i just wanted to say that. you really do."

i dont know what to say. the limo is dim so i dont know if he can see how flushed i feel. he leans forward and i think hes about to kiss me. i hope for it. i dont even care if my parents are nearby.

"where are you hiding the stuff?" he whispers. oh right, his drugs.

i show him my sleeves, how the pills are pressed finely between the folds. then i point to my bust. "others are in here," i say.

he chuckles lowly. "creative. you can give me some if you need more space."

if san gets caught with this my parents would end him. everything he worked to achieve would be gone in less than 2 days.

"i think i should keep it. just in case anything happens. you know, rich girl immunity."

san nods and leans back away from me, making me feel empty. "of course."

no words are exchanged between us for a few moments. so we're really going to pretend like the party didnt happen? did that mean it was never going to happen ever again. i dont want to sound desperate but my head is screeching for answers.

but i focus on what matters tonight. putting on a show. getting irina and the others their drugs and collecting payment. and most of all, escaping santo.

"san, can you do me a favour?" i ask.

he hesitates but nods anyway.

"dont leave my side tonight. please."

he rubs the back of his head nervously. "well, i am your date. and i dont know anyone else here."

god. he doesnt realize how bad i need him.thats the thing, i need him more than he needs me. i can never delete what i have on him. i never know when this will go sideways.

the party is at some hotel. when we get there, i can tell the reception is intimidating to san. the cameras, the flashing lights. the security. i grab his hand and he doesnt protest as we go inside. both of us get patted down by security guards, of course the drugs go undetected.

we go inside and the dinner set up is fancy as fuck. i look at san and i cant tell if hes forcing the coolness to not have a panic attack, but his face is blank. i spot irina and the others at a table and wave, my mother dragging us to a separate table with our name on it.

theres a stage with a massive projection screen, where a slideshow of the lingerie collection plays. i know at some point the pictures from the shoot will play out as well. im hoping to sneak off before then because i cant handle the embarrassment.

"so this is your life huh," san mutters next to me. i frown, his tone sounds disappointed.

"whats wrong?" i ask.

"nothing. just...i cant believe it sometimes."

hes been acting so weird. is he insecure? fuck i.dont even know where to start placing questions. my stomach sinks a little at his tone. i guess he'll never get it. he doesnt understand what im really running from. i doubt he ever will. that class disconnect will keep beating our ass.

to him, anything is better than being in a gang. i guess hes right. but that doesnt mean there arent things out there that would make you want to kill yourself. i would know.

santo walks out on the stage and everyone starts clapping like this is the oscars. "good evening everyone, buenos noches, buonasera, and everything else! welcome to the launch of the new Cosa Pericolosa brand. a brand distinct for its dangerous yet delicate beauty, made of the finest Italian lace and silk. i want to thank everyone for coming to celebrate and enjoy this milestone. there will be dancing and there will be a party, saluto!"

as soon as he gets off that stage, i see his face find my parents table. hes coming straight for us. i instantly grab san's hand under the table. he turns to me utterly confused, but i cant deal with that right now.

"mi famiglia!" santo loudly says and kisses my parents on the cheek. he gets to me and does the same, his kiss lingering on me longer than i wanted. i suppress a shiver. "tesoro, you look beautiful in the dress i picked! im so glad to see everyone here!"

"we could not have done it without you, santo!" my mother gushes. "you look so handsome!"

"ah, you are making me shy. it is really you people who are stealing the show, wait till you see how the pictures turned out!" he laughs obnoxiously, turning to smile at me.

"im so glad you are here, tesoro. it is good to finally have you back. your sister would be proud of you."

"thank you, santo." i force a smile. when really i want to scream. dont fucking bring her up, i want to scream it. but i force a stupid, docile smile. fuck if this night goes on for any longer, i might end up doing these drugs myself.

"hold on, who is this," santo finally acknowledges san. he holds out his hand to him. "i am santo falcone. but you can call me santo, you are?"

"that is yaera's date," my mother chimes in as san awkwardly takes his hand. "san choi. he is a classmate."

"oh," santo's smile tightens and he glances at me. "just a classmate?"

my father forces a laugh. "of course. do you know me? she can meet someone when it is time to get married."

santo grips san's hand for an uncomfortable amount of time till he ends up needing to rip it away. "nice to meet you, san choi. excuse me, i will return to you all. i have to greet the other guests and then have them run the music. you all enjoy the night."

he leaves, giving me a weird look before going. is he fucking jealous? does he seriously think he owns me? i dont know how my sister worked with him. hes so fucking creepy and somehow that never came up between us.

irina and the others arrive at our table next, greeting my parents with hugs and kisses. "can we steal yaera for a second? she looks so gorgeous!" claire says, gushing.

"no really, i want to rip that dress off you!" anya says. my mother rolls her eyes and laughs.

"please girls, bring her back in one piece for the show." my mother says. a smirk i know to be devious grows on irina's lips.

"oh we will, dont worry, mrs marino."

im so happy to get up from that table. san grabs my dress and looks up like a lost kid. "where are you going? dont leave me by myself here," he says under his breath.

awww hes so awkward. "ill be right back. dont miss me too much."

his eyes are desperate and his smile is so forced its hilarious. "youre really going to leave me with your parents?"

"dont worry she'll be back!" anya tells him, noticing him holding my dress. "your boyfriend is so clingy, yaera."

i can tell san is trying not to murder her with his glare. not more can be said because im whisked away. we end up in the bathrooms that look like something out of the louvre. anya and claire start taking mirror selfies while irina starts putting the money down on the sink.

"all of it is here, you can count it yourself. now where are the stuff?" she says. i start unrolling my sleeves, taking four of the bags out, getting the other five from my boobs.

anya and claire quickly come scrambling. "oh god, finally!" claire says. "we've been waiting so long."

"is it really that good?" i wonder, their relief is crazy to see. "better than what you already do?"

"alone its okay. but together with what we already do? a fucking trip to the skies," irina shakes her head with a smile. "ive never been so glad to know you, marino."

mixing drugs. that doesnt sound smart. but what do i know? im not the addict.

i smile and take the money, folding it back into my boobs. "youre welcome. and you know if you need more, where to call me."

"of course. and you better answer."

"your boyfriend is so fucking hot yaera," anya says with a sigh. "hes literally gorgeous. where did you find him?"

"careful, you cougar. you cant be talking about an 18 year old like that," i joke.

"im not even twenty three shut the fuck up!" she shoves at my shoulder.

"so he is your boyfriend?" claire smiles. the three of them coo like children when i start blushing.

"im getting there guys," i say. "hopefully soon."

"what do his parents do? he looks like a model himself." claire says.

"you know this is yaera, hes probably crazy as fuck. like the last one, what was his name?" irina chimes in with a snort. "i bet this one is the reason she has drugs in the first place."

i scowl at her. shes right but i hate that she read me so easily. "bitch, just enjoy my services. goddamn it you people are nosy."

she raises an eyebrow. "am i right though?"

i roll my eyes and start to leave, saluting on my way out. "im getting back now to my date now, goodbye ladies."

luckily when i get out, theres music playing and people are on the floor. san is sitting alone by the table, taking random sips out of a champagne glass. im so excited. i actually got money back for us. i throw my hands onto his shoulders and smile widely, unable to hold my excitement.

"so guess who collected their first payment?"

san's eyes widen. "all the money there?"

"every last note. so i think to celebrate we should dance."

san frowns and cringes. "i dont dance. im fine here."

i roll my eyes and grab his hand, pulling him up with a hard tug. "is it a sin for you to do ANYTHING fun? the music is playing and we have something to celebrate, come on."

he sighs and gives in with a lame smile. "fine."

i lead him to the dancefloor, swinging my arms around his neck. san's hands drop to my lowerback as we sway and i cant ignore the happiness bubbling in my brain. i cant stop smiling.

"you seem really happy," he notes. "you're getting a big head from your first payment huh?"

"of course. its just what i needed to prove myself to you. that i can pull my weight and that im not just some liability."

"i never said that-"

"yes you did san. many times." i remind him, and his cheeks flush from.embarrassment. "i can even quote you on it if you want?"

"please dont," he chuckles under his breath. "fine, i guess you can pull your weight."

his dimples are piercing through. i stare at him mesmerized and i cant even hide it. i bet if i was a cartoon in this very moment, i'd be having stars in my eyes.

"you're perfect, you know that?" i say without thinking.

san's eyes widen, then darken in seconds. "what?" his voice is just barely together.

"i want to kiss you again," i admit. "i think its all i'll want for a really long time."

i lightly stroke his cheeks, seeing them go rosey. this is all i have. the only thing that shows me that i do affect him.

his eyes dart down to my lips and i shrink the distance between us, till we're just barely a centimeter apart.

"i dont want you to think about it," i tell him. "just do whatever you want in the moment. thats all that matters."

"yaera..." he gulps, then takes a step back. "i-i dont know about this. lets just...this isnt good. for either of us."

"says who?" i scoff.

"says me. you and i should just stay business partners. strictly business. anything else wont end well for either of us."

hearing that makes my heart shatter and my stomach drop. fuck i can feel my eyes filling with water. i try to choke.it down but i know its obvious.

"so you're just gonna.pretend we never kissed at that party?" i lay down my arms from his neck. "youre just going to pretend that never happened?"

san stops dancing and gives me a curt nod. "i think its best we do. we both know i just represent something to you. something forbidden. thats why you want me right? because im someone you cant have."

i laugh bitterly. "i cant fucking believe you."

i feel a tear drop. san sees it and frowns. "yaera wait-"

i swat his hands away from me. "you are such a fucking dick."

i get off the dancefloor and run somewhere. i dont know where. im just walking, looking for a place to break down and sob. god this is so embarrassing. im so fucking pathetic.

i stop infront of a random room and twist the door handle. its unlocked, thank god. i go inside and fall onto the bed, my chest instantly getting wrecked. i start sobbing horrifically, unable to believe how awful i feel right now.

whats wrong with me. what is legitimately wrong with me. why was he so cold? am i not pretty enough for him or something? this cant just be about the business. i refuse to believe it. and even if it is, why do i feel so worthless?

everytime jongho has rejected me and made me feel like nothing but a stupid slut flashes infront of me. the feeling stabs me like a knife.

that must be it. thats probably what he sees me as. a stupid, desperate evil slut. all i do is throw myself at him. even at that party, i couldnt wait to be all over him. im pathetic. and desperate. i should just die.

my gloves are soaked. i cant believe how much im crying. maybe i should go back to therapy. maybe i wasnt coping as well as i thought i was.

i look up into the mirror stand, seeing my make up absolutely ruined. my entire face is red, and my hair is sticking to my soaked cheeks. i look like shit.

suddenly i remember why i stayed away from men in the first place. because im too fucking sensitive. my mood depends on them. my self worth is a reflection of how much they like me. they control whether i feel emotional highs and emotional lows.

i start laughing at myself. i cant believe i got myself into this kind of fuckery again.

the door opens suddenly, making me jolt. santo comes in and closes the door behind him, smiling tightly. i jerk up and start stumbling back, backing myself into a wall to be far away from him.

"what are you doing here?" i ask, my voice shaking.

"i saw you dancing with that...child," he slowly laughs, his tone sounding bitter. "you have no business being with someone like him, tesoro."

"santo-"

"do you know how fucking sick i felt?" he snaps, stalking like a dangerous animal. "seeing you with him? while you wear the dress i picked out for you?"

being alone was a mistake. i try to dart for the door but he grabs me and picks me up, covering my mouth with his hand. he throws me onto the bed, forcing his bodyweight on top of me. im frozen, i cant move. every karate class ive taken, all my knowledge on hurting someone just vanishes. hes on top of me and i cant move.

im sobbing again. he presses his finger to my lip, hushing me.

"i should be the only one who takes this dress off you tonight," he whispers. he starts lowering the top, leaving the top of my chest exposed. "dont cry, tesoro, you'll feel so much better after. ive been waiting for this for so long..."

"no please, santo," i beg through my tears. "please just leave me alone. please just-"

theres a few knocks on the door. "yaera, is that you? can i come in?"

that's san's voice. santo clamps his palm over my lips again and i scream.through them. its muffled. i start struggling and kicking but he wont get off me. he forces his hand harder. "fucking stop," he growls at me.

the door swings open anyway. san barges in and santo quickly jumps off me, suddenly on the other side of the room. san looks between us, frozen in his feet.

"what, did anyone say you could fucking come in?" santo screams. san stays staring between us, his face absolutely blank. santo scoffs and adjusts his suit jacket before storming out and slamming the door.

i sit up on the bed, looking at san through blurry eyes. i cant even find my voice. i cant even deal with what just happened.

"did he try..." san trails off, shaking his head at me. he rushes to sit down next to me. i cant help it, as soon as he wraps his arms around me i start bawling again.

"i cant fucking breathe. san please i just want to get away from here. please can we just leave."

he softly rubs the side of my head as he holds my face in his chest. "lets go. we'll go away from here. far away from.here. anywhere."

***

san

i dont even know where to start.

yaera and i ordered an uber from the hotel, disappearing with the permission of her father, saying she felt sick and she needed to go home. they werent happy but yaera's distraught face convinced them. they have no idea what the fuck happened tonight. they were sitting with that same guy that night.

hell, i dont even know what happened. but i could put two and two together.

yaera and i havent said a word to each other. shes passed out on my chest all the way to my apartment. i have to carry her on the way in. i have to put her down on her feet when its time to go into my apartment, and she hangs on my arm the entire time.

"you sure you fine with this?" i ask her. she nods wordlessly.

i let her inside, and she makes her way to my bed where she falls hopelessly. i go and sit down beside her, not knowing what to say. i dont know any words that can fix what happened tonight.

i know so much about her, but tonight...it made me realize i know nothing.

"this isnt the first time it happened," she says, her voice low and defeated. "the first time he did it...i was fifteen. he touched the inside of my thigh in a dressing room and kept trying it till i never went back. i never told my parents...or my sister."

i dont say anything. i let her speak.

"he told me he would never let me go. that he was in love with me. he tried so many times. at my own house. and everytime i would end up in the hospital...my parents would blame me. they would say that i was acting out. i didnt know how to tell them. they treated santo better me and my sister. hes a saint to them."

i feel my head heating up. a rich prick predator piece of shit. he deserves to disappear. he deserves to fucking rot.

i bet miss A could make a bastard like him disappear really quickly.

i take her hand and gently rub my thumb over her knuckles. i feel terrible. the only reason he was able to follow her was because of me.

"so thats why you asked me to not leave your side," i realized. "so you wouldnt be alone with him."

"he gets jealous of every man who comes near me," yaera's tears leak onto my pillow. "i thought if he saw you...he would really leave me alone this time. but it just...it made him more aggressive. he tried to..."

i pull her up and bring her into another hug, gripping her tightly. it felt like if i let her go that i'd never hold her again. that feeling terrifies me. i hate it so much.

"i'll never let him hurt you again," i swear. "i'll fucking kill him. just say the word and i will."

"i want him off my skin, san," she tells me pleadingly. "i dont want to feel him ever again. i want to scratch my skin off and be clean. i want to feel clean again."

"you arent dirty, yaera. hes the fucking filthy one for putting his hands on you," i hold her face in my hands. shes delicate, like porcelain. her eyes, that are usually so menacing and careless are filled with sadness. "youre perfect. you dont deserve that, dont for a second blame yourself. you're perfect, do you hear me?"

"if im so perfect then why dont you want me?" she whimpers. my blood runs cold. fuck how can she hit me with such a heavy loaded question.

theres no point in lying anymore. this is the last situation where i can lie.

"im scared," i admit. "im scared of you. and this. and everything. ive never had something like this, ive never had someone this close to me. i dont know how to handle it. ive been alone for so long i dont know how to let anyone be near me. i never let myself have anything. i always let go."

"please let me be there," she whispers in a tone i cant refuse. "please dont let me go. let yourself have this. let yourself have me."

my chest hurts. this night isnt going at all how i thought it would. its too much. i dont know what to say to yaera. i find my eyes feeling heavy. she takes my face in her hands again and i know she wants to kiss me. fuck it, this is the worst time. but at this point, there isnt ever a right time.

i go in for it and kiss her first. her lips are soft and velvety, and she melts against mine instantly. we start to lose our softness, with yaera pulling me closer and closer. its like she wants to take all the oxygen out of me. her kiss is hard, like a cry for help, like im all the air she'll ever need.

she breaks the kiss and drags her lips down my neck, making me shudder. yaera makes her way onto my lap and i dont fight it, her legs wrapping around me tightly as her dress rides up her thighs.

the kisses turn hot and i feel my brain losing sense. this wont end here, i know it. i want to stop it. i drag my willpower from the floor to break our kiss and she stares at me, frowning with swollen lips.

"is this really a good time?" i ask seriously. "you're really emotionally vulnerable right now. after what happened tonight, do you really think-"

"san," she interrupts me, pressing another kiss to my lips. "my life has been one big emotional fucked up moment, i want to forget. i want to have this, im so fucking dead inside. i want to feel alive again."

she stops showering me with warm pecks and looks me dead in the eye. "will you give me that?"

i hold her face again. my chest feels warm thinking about how no one sees her like this. her pain. but she trusts me enough. she lets me see it.

"i'll give you whatever you want tonight. i promise."

those words were all she needed. yaera slides her hands over my chest, pushing the suit jacket off. her hands move fast, flicking open every button till my chest is bare.

she presses her lips to mine again, her fingers tugging at my hair. i moan at the pull, surprising myself and her. she breaks the kiss and smiles down at me.

"i could get used to that sound," she teases. something stirs in me. she's so hot.

i move my hands to the back of her dress, finding the zipper. i dont break eye contact, and her smile only grows as the dress starts falling apart on her.

i slowly drag my lips down her neck, and she lets out a shiver. i fight my smile and continue to leave hot, soft kisses down her shoulder, moving down to her barely hidden cleavage. yaera harshly pulls the dress down, having rolls of money fall out and exposing her chest.

***

yaera

san stares at me after my boobs stare at him. there's a dazed look in his eyes that disappears once he lowers his mouth onto my one boob and grabs a hand full of the other.

i throw my head back, lost in a cloud after feeling his warm mouth. he starts sucking and massaging, rolling circles over my nipple. this is heaven. or something close to it definetely.

i feel my thighs tightening, warmth seeping down from my lower stomach. i try to stifle my moans, my mouth just barely gasping. he looks up at me, pausing on his motion. "you dont have to hold back. i told you i'll give you anything you want tonight," he whispers.

i hold his face with both my hands, feeling like i could cum from just staring into his eyes. "i only want you," i admit direly. i'll take anything he gives me. "but rubbing on you would be nice too."

he leans back, making me yearn. "okay, open wider."

hearing those words just makes me hotter. i get up from his lap and completely remove my dress, both of us just ignoring all the money on the floor. san's eyes hang on my every movement. im in nothing but black lace, and i dont waste time in throwing myself on his lap again, legs parted and ready.

he brings his lips to mine again, both softly and yet completely taking them as his own. his hand slips between my thighs, slowly trailing up like hes carressing fragile ceramics. i shiver as he gets closer to me, his hand finally slipping onto the base of me. he drags his thumb down my clothed folds, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me closer.

i try to focus on kissing him, dragging my teeth down to his neck. i lose myself when he starts rubbing me with both fingers, feeling that jolt of warmth coursing through me.

my mouth is parted as my face is buried in his neck, pathetic whimpers pumping out of me. san starts going in circles, right in the perfect spot. i do myself the favour and move the fabric to the side, his warm fingers completely melting inside me as he pumps them in and out.

i know im doomed when i hear myself squelching. his rhythm is perfect, not too slow and not too fast, just enough for me to completely feel him and fade cloudily. i feel my high coming, my thighs starting to tense and my grip on him tightening. i start to kiss him frantically, till san keeps pushing his fingers faster. i feel like a hot coil, going and going till before i know it, im dripping all over his fingers.

i collapse onto his lap and he slowly drags them out, and i hear him prop them into mouth. i look at him with an accomplished smile on my face, shaking my head.

"you sick fuck, did you just taste me?"

san shrugs with a small smile on his face. "yeah, can you blame me?"

i cant contain myself, i kiss him again. i dont even feel close to done. "let me do something for you now?" i say against his lips.

"mmm mmm," san shakes his head, gently gripping my waist. "i just want you to feel good. do you?"

i nod. "i feel better than ever. but really, you dont want anything?"

he lets out a heavy sigh. "i didnt want to tell you this, but you feeling things makes me...feel things."

oh he just became ten times hotter.

i realize it now, while sitting so close to him, i can feel his massive boner poking me through his pants. i smirk to myself, getting an idea.

"oh no, you have that look on your face again," san mutters, moving my hair back. "what are you thinking?"

"readjust your friend. so i can sit on him."

san goes quiet, but i can feel him pulsing underneath me. its sensation is sending me into fucking heat all over again.

"i dont think we should go too far," he says. "dont get me wrong, i want to. i really do. but i dont think you're feeling hundred percent...after everything."

my smirk drops. i dont want to think of him. not right now. not while i have san's hands all over me. but i guess its not a good look if i do just jump his bones after everything that happened.

he holds my face in his hands and squeezes after i say nothing. "and dont think its because you're not pretty or anything. seriously, i dont know why you would even say that."

i shrug. my black and white state of thinking has never really helped me.

san picks up a pillow up and tosses it against the wall. "come on, lets fall asleep. we can talk again in the morning."

"okay," i mutter. i dont know what else to say. i get off him and and crawl into his bed. san follows after, his hot skin completely blanketing me as he puts his arm over my body and draws me against him.

"are you gonna act like nothing happened tomorrow again?" i ask.

silence.

"no. stop worrying."

his curt words dont register in my brain, because he places a warm kiss on my shoulder. it doesnt take me long to completely drift to sleep.

***

wooyoung

wooyoung knows he fucked up. he knows its all fucked up, he just doesnt know when he's going to tell san about it.

miss A is looking at him with cold eyes, he cant even utter a word because of the fear inside him. seonghwa is sprawled out on a broken couch, horrific burns all over him. hes barely alive, but he had it in him enough to tell everyone about what went down at the warehouse.

"changbin is dead, you know this right?" miss A tells him.

"yes, ma'am," he utters pathetically.

"so you know what you and lucky have to do."

he knows he cant stay a bitch in this gang for long. he knows its going to get real. petty stuff is all wooyoung is used to. extortion, scamming people. when he watched yunho die, a fear he thought was so far away just flashed infront of his eyes. he knew he'd come to be on the other end someday.

"you find that man...and you bring me his hand. or else, i'll have yours."

***

A/N: pls this chapter was a mess im sorry and it took forever to write , the next will be better 😭😭😭😭

NEXT CHAPTER

tagslist: @yujispinkhair @brown88 @sansonlygf

#ateez angst #ateez imagines #choi san angst #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #choi san #choi san fluff #san angst #gang au #ateez smut #choi san smut

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sirmephy · 1 year

Text

A dying mans promise (pmatga)

Im not good with writing- im trying to improve so please any creative criticism is more than welcome-

Cold was a term no one would use when it came to the hellhole the netherworld was. Lava everywhere, hot stone pastering the ground and a hothead of a ruler.

Most ghosts coudnt quiet care less about it, most happy to somewhat live a life downhere. Being close to those they knew from back then, before it all went south. A familiar feeling of warmth.

Yet their peace was something a preticuar fire ghost coud not let be, he attacked, attacked and attacked the living ones whenever it would be possible- whenever he could. Everything he had would be used against the ones he despises most. And this was what most ghosts hated here, they could not refuse thier leader, some helped out of the loyalty they had left while others simply feared his moodswings.

If one would ask them as to what their leaders goal was, they would simply say that losing once simply didnt do the trick, other that their leader was simply that insane to think he would win sometime soon. In trues most knew that that yellow kid - the so called hero - would keep them from anything close to an achievement.

Those who questioned the leader were often simply burend to a crisp anyway - yet some stuck close, even able to get somewhat of an civil answer from the fire ghost, that being simply because he deserved it.

But was that what he realy thought, or just a desperate cry for attention...

“If you keep starring at it, it might go up in flames. Not like this plan will work out”, negative was a good word to describe the female ghost but not the best, a realist who observed rather than attacking would be the more fitting describtion.

Why she could do so, talking to him like she wanted, without being burned, it was simple, he despised her enough for what she could do to him. He knew that she knew that he would never lay a finger on her, it kept his slime boiling, yet he was all bark and not bite when it came to her.

“If you aint here to help get out, this”, he gestured towards a small modell of the roundhouse, “will work! And that yellow pest will finally be gone!”

“Oh? So just another failure in the making”, she hummed, floating over, taking a seat on the throne, starring at his red eyes with a calmness he could not understand, not grasp.

“Maybe something would work, if a certain someone would actually help!”

“Im good thanks”

“Then dont spit on it, if ya aint doing your work!”

“So? is it hurting your ego?”

“NO!”

“Yes”

...

“What do you want Via?”, arguing with her would be pointless.

“Cant i come here?”

“Thats not what I- ugh”

“Use words Tray”

“You-”

“They dont have faith, in this”, she gestured at the so called plan, “you know this-”, she flew over, hovering close to him, hugging him from behind, “and so do I”

He shrugged her off, growling as he turned, “woman if you aint helping, get, lost”, this he spat at her, his eyes burning with passion and...

distant sadness.

“you used to be more than willing to help me with all of the planning”, he grinned, studying his claws, “ what happened to you? Got scared now that you are dead? Lost interest now that you consider the war lost?”

“...”, her eyes wander over the others features, studying him, “this is not good to you- not to anyone, neither living nor ghost, why not just... giv-”

“Dont”, he looked away, knowing what she wanted to say.

“Give it up Tray. You will never beat that kid, he will stop you every single time your pathetic ass goes up there to gain something out of your reach”, her arms now crossed over her chest, eyey slightly glowing as she kept talking, “you just hurt others who have no business in it! All because you think you are better than them? All be-”

“SHUT UP”, fire rose around the ghosts fists, clenching them at his sides, breathing quicken and some tears sparkeling in his eyes - how he hated being this emotionall with her -, “I AM THE LEADER! THIS WAR IS OVER WHEN I SAY IT IS!”

“Like a child who lost a bet”, she mused, challenging him, “You are a sore looser.”

“LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING YOU ARROGANT WOMAN”, he coulndt call her names, it felt wrong, even now, “I WILL WIN THIS, I ALREADY AM, THEY- THEY WILL NEVER FORGET ME, AND I WILL DAMN WELL KEEP IT LIKE THAT. THOSE PATHETIC FOOLS DONT EVEN NOW WHAT HAS YET TO AWAIT THEM!”

Tears now flowing down his cheeks betrayed him, o how irronic his name was- he breathed uneven but didnt back away from her. She was a ghost off his past that he coundt get rid off- that he didnt want to get rid of.

“YOU KNOW WHY I DO ALL THIS?! DONT YOU-”, he barked inches away from her face, “YOU ALWAYS DO; ISNT THAT RIGHT? GETTING A KICK OUT OF IT, KNOWING HOW YOU PULL AT MY STRINGS, PRESSING ME ON AND ON FOR ANGER, JUST LIKE YOU DID WHEN WE WERE ALIVE”

“I WISH”, her raised voice stoped him, has he ever heard her raise it, “I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ANYMORE- CANT SEE WHAT YOU THINK OR HOW YOU ARE, ALL I SEE IS THE PAIN THIS ALL CAUSES YOU!”

A heavy silence hugged them, pressing for something that would defuse the situation. She knew it was her who had to speak first, giving him something to grab onto.

“Do- do you really think you need to prove yourself to them? Betrayus”, his full name, when has she last called him by it, “please- I ju-”

“I just dont want to be forgotten...”, he floats over to her carefully, not sure what this all was or why, but she still did the same as always, making him question himself, feel something he feelt not worthy off, “I do this, the attacking the planning to, to not end up in another shadow, folowing the promise i made to myself, to you- to all of them.”

“Promise”, she whispered the word as if it was an echo, seeking anything in his eyes that would help.

“You know...when we sat in that room with those god forbidden machines i swore one thing-”, he chuckled and finds her eyes again, taking in a deep breath “I saw you die before my eyes, I had survived the first shock - baerly- everything hurt and I will never forget seeing your limb body in the other chair, all of you had gone before me...”, this times his tears feel silently, his arms hugging around his waist “I swore to make them pay- to make them always remeber what had happened...who we are, who I am

Its been long since i felt actual hatred towards that yellow kid, he is simply a reminder off it all- a shadow- that refuses to die. I know i will likely never win in any of this, but it wont stomp out the fire that keeps me going- god how cheesy-”

This time she smiled, taking him back, it has been a while since she last smiled- a kiss carefully placed on the leaders cheeks is enough for him to melt into her arms, leaning against her body, seeking the connection they once- no still had. A sense of savety taking over.

#betrayus #pmatga oc #pmatga betrayus #pmatga #lord betrayus #betrayus spheros

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that-sarcastic-writer · 2 years

Text

Love that hurts (Bruce Wayne)

Pairing: Battinson!Bruce Wayne X GN!Reader

Summary: after the explosion at the Wayne manor, Bruce looks for you at the hospitalWarnings: spoilers for the batman, lots of angst, not really a happy ending, I'm feeling angsty today sorry

WC: 1.3k

A/N: so guess who's having a batman phase? This bitch right here. But I have it bad for Battinson amd I cant stop thinking about him so expect more fics coming. This one is just to test the waters and also writing for him for the first time, so it's pretty short. Watch it flop like always.

Ps I'm taking battinson requests (smutty, angsty, fluffy, a mix, whatever your soul desires) so if anyone of yall have any please send them my way, I'll do my absolute best to make it happen.

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!

It was hard to describe what exactly was going through Bruce's head. Panic? Anger? Maybe frustration? Or was it fear that he felt? Fear. Huh. He hadn't felt that in a long time. He learned how to lock that emotion deep inside his mind a long time ago. He wasn't scared of what might happen to him out there. He didn't care. But it wasn't his life he feared for this time. It was yours too.

Bruce knew that you were at The Wayne Manor along with Alfred. Out of all the days you could've picked to come look for him you had to choose that night. All he could think about as he was speeding through the streets of Gotham was that he wished he had answered your calls, or seen your texts. Maybe then he could have convinced you to go home, to not wait for him. Maybe then he could've heard your voice again if you were— no. He couldn't do that to himself. But how could he not? How could he shake this feeling of frantic panic and anguish? He knew this was his fault, he knew Riddler was targeting him and the only two people that had ever given a shit about him got caught in the crossfire.

He didn't remember driving to the hospital, or walking himself to the ICU. He felt like dead weight, hair and jacket pouring wet from the perpetual Gotham rain. He didn't know where his feet were taking him, he just walked, steel cold eyes staring dead ahead as his chaotic mind raced with a million thoughts, none of them exactly sunshine and rainbows. He kept replaying his last memory of you. And he deeply regretted the way that last encounter ended. He remembered you, face wet with hot tears, but you weren't yelling, it was worse, you were quiet, broken and tired. You were hurting and he just stood there, staring at you with the same stoic expression and the same cold blue eyes he always had. And to think you were the person dearest to him and he couldn't get himself to show it. Instead he let you walk away, heartbroken and hurt. He always did that, he always ended up hurting you. And now, you were hurt for real, because of him.

Suddenly his mind went blank, and his feet stopped dead in their tracks. All the noise from the hospital was quickly drowned out by the sound of his beating heart and the shakiness of his breath. He didn't know what this feeling in the pit of his stomach was, but he knew that the second he spotted you he felt like he could breathe again. He approached you with slow and heavy steps, you hadn't noticed him yet and he couldn't bring himself to speak.

You stood restless, the tips of your fingers were pressed against your lips and your breathing was uneven as you paced back and forth. But your breath was caught in your throat when you turned your head and you saw Bruce standing there, hair soaking wet and falling over his eyes. You suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over you. You hadn't heard anything from him in days, and after the explosion at the Wayne Manor you were terrified that something might have happened to him out there. But he was here. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to speak either, deep down you were still hurt and so angry at him.

Neither of you said anything though. Bruce reached out to you and pulled you tight against his chest without saying a word. You should've fought it, you should've shoved him away, screamed in his face, but god knows you couldn't. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears already building up and you bawled your fist into the material of his black sweater. And he held you just as tight, one of his hands held the back of your hair as he rested the side of his face on the top of your head. He closed his eyes and for the first time all night, he felt like he could breathe. He didn't feel fear anymore. But he was still angry at himself, for not protecting you, for letting you leave his arms, because that's where you belonged, with him. As selfish as he knew that was.

Five, ten, fifteen, thirty seconds went by before Bruce moved back enough to be able to look at you. He grabbed your face between his hands. His eyes were as always unreadable, distant but behind them wasn't the iceberg you always saw, you saw something warm this time.

"Are you okay?" Bruce finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. He scanned over your face carefully, noting a couple of scrapes but nothing alarming.

You simply nodded, your hands coming to rest on his wrists, "are you?"

"You were in an explosion, how could you be worried about me?" There was a subtle shake in his voice when he mentioned the explosion, and his icy blue eyes darted away. Bruce Wayne and avoidance were one and the same.

"You beat people up dressed as a bat every night, how could I not be worried?" You replied quietly, making sure to keep your voice down, "I always worry about you Bruce."

Bruce exhaled deeply, his jaw tight and gaze hard as always, "why did you go to the mansion? Do you realize how dangerous that was? I was worried. I thought you.. I thought something might have happened to you."

Your eyebrows shot up and you chuckled dryly, "Bruce Wayne gives a shit about someone? Well maybe I should try to get myself killed more often just to hear you care about me, even if it's just a little bit."

"Don't." The way he spoke made you look at him. It was authoritative, and it was stern. The hard expression on his face screamed he wasn't in the mood for your sarcasm. He held your jaw tightly as he leaned down to speak closely to you, "don't ever say that again. I can't lose you too. I don't want to. And I would do anything to ensure you're safe."

"You want me to be safe?" You pursed your lips together and tilted your head back, almost as if you were trying to make up for the height difference between the two of you. Bruce kept his lips tightly pressed together, eyebrows knitted into a perpetual withdrawn expression and cold blue eyes bored into your own. He nodded slowly, unsure as to where you were going with this. You brought your hands up his face and held it much like he had done to you mere minutes ago, "then let me in. The safest place for me is with you and you know that."

Bruce averted his eyes and shook his head, trying to move his face away from your touch, "You really believe that? Look what happened tonight. You're going to end up hurt if you stay with me."

"Well that's a risk I'm willing to take." You held his face tight between your hands as you looked up at him. If only he could see how you looked at him he would know how much you would do for him, maybe then he would understand why you stayed, why you always went back to him despite him always pushing you away and breaking your heart. "Let me take that risk, Bruce. It's my choice. Not yours. And I chose to I with you. No matter how much it may hurt."

If only you knew how much it scared him to take that risk. Not many things scared him anymore, but the idea that he could lose you was far more haunting than any of the things he has done in the last two years. And that made him weak, he couldn't have that either. He couldn't allow himself the luxury of being afraid, because loving you scared him. So breaking your heart time and time again was easier than feeling what he felt tonight. But he couldn't let you go either. And it was selfish. All he could ever do was hurt you. And you would always go back, no matter how much it hurt to love him too.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #the batman #batman #batman x reader #battinson

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catholicdaredevil · 2 years

Text

pardon me just gonna drop some crumbs into the daredevil fandom then vanish forever

so i havent edited or gone back over this AND i wrote it on my sleeping meds but such is life

Touch starved would be the absolute bare minimum way to describe Matt Murdock. There didn’t seem to be a word or term that fully encapsulated the way he longed for even the smallest of touches. Not that he would admit it, no the trademark Catholic guilt wouldn’t allow him to ever confess to something like desire. The way that guilt was stitched into every fiber of his being, kept him together at the seams. That same way the hunger for connection was wired into his bones, sunk down in a place no one could get to, not even him. It ached- He ached in a way far worse than any injury had ever hurt; because those healed. They got better with time, with meditation, sometimes even medicine though he’d never admit to that either. Even when he tried it never healed as much as he hoped, or needed. Stick. Elektra. Even Foggy, they couldn’t fix him, couldn’t heal the devil. So he pushed everyone away, coming to terms with the fact that maybe he didn’t deserve to feel the warmth he so desired. Maybe the cost of the devil, of his abilities, was that no matter how much he helped, he would always be on the outside looking in on what he loved. The city, the people, the people.

It always made him freeze, touch, no matter where it came from. He always expected the worst and maybe that was the Devil’s fault, expected it to hurt, knew he deserved it. He’s sure it never showed, the slight tightening around his eyes when Foggy reached out to clap his shoulder over a solved case, when Karen leaned into his side grinning when the story finally cracked open under her touch, even the way Claire would mournfully brush her fingers around wounds she had sown up. He didn’t let himself enjoy, but couldn’t stop the way his body reacted, canting towards everything, anything. He couldn’t avoid it either, not with Foggy as his best friend, Foggy a man well renowned for being the kindest shining light of a person. Foggy loved in many ways, each one louder than the last, constantly giving pieces of himself left and right without thought or hesitation. Sometimes Matt would just sit back and observe, in awe of the way Foggy moved through life with such ease. Someone who loved so deeply without fear of what it could do to him, someone who didn’t have to worry that the pieces of himself were jagged, sharp, dangerous. Wrong.

The craving for touch that wormed its way under his skin couldn’t be trained out of him and he tried, like a dog with a shock collar. Tried to carve it out of his body, when that didn’t work he prayed. Begged, pleaded, please god and every time they sat in the air unanswered. So he fed the desire in the night, in the crunching of bone under his fists, in the throb of bruises that would be dark for days. The fight satiating as much of the urge as was possible. When his mind tried to remind him it wasn’t enough he pushed. Pushed his body farther, running himself ragged along Hell’s Kitchen, hit harder, leaving himself open at times to be hit harder back to feel something. Yet the devil was never satisfied, even when he quieted down there was still the thrum in the back of Matt’s head, the thirst for action, only ever chained up.

There was no reason you should have been different. No reason he let you and no one else behind lines of defense he didn’t even consciously know were there. No reason your touch should leave him so breathless he was almost light headed at times. The smallest things, when you’d hand him his tea always remembering to put three drops of honey in and no more and your fingers would brush in the hand off and he’d feel it down into his arms. Your touch like molten lava under the surface of the earth, moving and changing his world unseen to anyone on the outside. Sometimes he even thought you knew, like you could sense the skip of his heart or the hitch in his breath, like somehow you could read him back. As time went on even when he came to terms with the fact that your touch came freely, frequently, even adoringly he often felt on edge. Like it would all be pulled out from under him, some sick joke to finally have everything change in his favor just to lose it.

In your defense you did know how special touch was to him, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. No matter how much Matt or the Devil thought they were tough, hard to read, he just had no idea. His face so expressive you could read paragraphs off the arch of his brow, the tilt of his mouth. That and the way he nuzzled into any touch you offered him, purring like a cat and making little soft happy noises at the rush of oxytocin. He must not have realized he did any of those either given the way he always seemed surprised by your touch, like every time it was a gift.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil fanfiction #please read this #give feedback if u dont mind #if this formats weird im sorry #i hope yall like it #ezra writes #marvel #mcu #nwh #no way home #foggy nelson #karen page

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rcksmith · 3 years

Text

Mine — Kaz Brekker

(photo not mine)

Requests: “9 from the fluff prompts with Kaz brekker please? It could be where they're keeping it a secret and it slips out? Thanks”

“Could you possibly do a kaz brekker and reader imagine where they are both like in their mid twenties. Number 9 from the fluff prompts “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" "No, that girl is my wife”, I could just imagine him with the smuggest grin saying it. Your a very good writer and thank you if you decide to write this.”

“Could I get a kaz brekker x reader secret relationship with fluff prompts 5, 7, 12, and 14 please?”

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

7. “I feel like i cant breathe when i’m around you.”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

12. “I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!”

14. “I don’t like to pretend we’re not together.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of fights, mention of post-traumatic stress, fluff too.

Word count: 2k.

A/N: Thank you💖 I hope you guys like. I changed some details a little, hope you don't mind

Normal Rules. Smut Rules.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you❤️

— — — —

Fissure. That's what mercenaries, thieves, assassins and his enemies were looking for. A fissure to drive Kaz Brekker to ruin. Burn his empire, wood for wood, until there is nothing left but funeral ashes swept away by the winter wind. Even the most infinitesimal fissure would ensure that his enemies infiltrate, like hungry parasites, into the heart of the dungeon of his deepest secrets. Swallowing, absorbing, any hint of what could do the infamous the Bastard of the Barrel down to his own knees.

And Kaz Brekker feared that if they looked into the most secluded corner of his dungeons, where it was reserved to hide the greatest truths of his soul, they would find the one only thing to beg on his knees for would be something he would do without hesitation.

You.

You were like the last summer solstice in a world ruled by darkness, cold and empty. Which he kept in a chest locked with seven chains.

If he had to describe you with the five senses, Brekker would remind that, when he was in the bitter cold of the ocean, clutching the stiffness of dead and putrefying flesh like a lifeboat, a ray of sunshine, warm as the summer, it opened up through the thunderclouds and came down to his face, warming that spot of skin like a kiss from the sun.

And it would be with that memory that he would describe you.

Kaz Brekker shouldn't have fallen in love with you. He was the person who most understood the disastrous consequences if he let himself get carried away by the way his heart sped up whenever he saw you. If he allowed herself to taste the way all of your heat radiated into his body and made him feel alive. But he fell in love.

Everything was all too much. The feeling of life every time you said his name, like a devotion, something religious, lyrical. The sweetness in your eyes, the warm voice. Everything had been too much.

And what should he do? Tell you he missed you every time you went on a mission? Saying that he were jealous and envy of Jesper because the man managed to make you laugh with a silly joke and hug you tight, something Kaz still hadn't been able to do? Tell you it was almost religious the way he venerated your smile? Of course not. Because all these things would have been sensible, and Kaz couldn't do anything sensible around you.

Because when he saw life offering him, with such joy, the one thing that had been denied him all his life, and that he swore never to crave, his first impulse was anger. Stupid, irrational anger.

So, for the first few moments, his entire reaction to you had been cold, distant, almost avoidant. Because the way his whole body shook in hot spasms when, in that summery tone, you called his name, it was too much for Kaz to handle.

“Kaz!” You call, one night.

He heard your voice from across the crow club, and had to close his eyes tightly at the way his heart leapt in his chest.

"Hey, hey." You appeared beside him, your cheeks chased away by coral red, the happy smile and the sparkle in your eyes as someone who have the path to true happiness. "Jessy said you were wanting to find a new way to invade that bank."

Oh perfect. In the same way his body exalted when he heard the sound of your name and your lips, hearing you call Jesper by that infernal nickname had a much more destabilizing effect. And fierce.

Kaz raised an eyebrow at you, in a nonchalant gesture but inviting you to keep talking.

“I happen to know of an underground path.” For an instant, the pride in your smile made Kaz want to smile too. “You and I can put together a map today and we'll be right tomorrow to go.”

That was one of the times Kaz should have made some dry, disinterested, trivial comment, something that made you not want to spend time with him, something that made you turn around and walk away. He should have turned around and left. He had done this over a thousand times with other people and knew it to be one of the best outings.

Still, the acid comment didn't come and he couldn't turn his back on you.

So, like the idiot he became whenever it came to you, Kaz couldn't help but spend an hour in your company. Even if it resulted in him lying in bed at the end of the day, alone and feeling the guilt gnawing at him more and more.

So, before he even knew it, Kaz was already in his office with you, listening to you chatter about things he knew he should have been paying attention to. But the way the crackling of the fire flames in the fireplace flashed across your face was a distraction of unimaginable proportions.

“Jessy and I…”

“You want to stop.” He found himself saying before he even realized it. “That nickname is already exasperating me.”

“Why? Jealousy?” You joked, oblivious to the truth.

Kaz looked at you like your comment was the most pathetic thing he'd ever heard. He wanted to screaming: ‘I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!.’ But he didn't. Instead, the words that came out were:

“No. It's childish and immature, and it doesn't fit with...”

"What if I call you ‘Darling’?” You rested your chin on both palms of your hand, your elbows resting on his desk in his office.

Kaz's heart skipped a beat.

“That way you won't be jealous of Jessy's nickname and…”

“It's not jealousy!” He countered, and too late realized that he didn't disagree in the first instance about the nickname, but about the green color that emanated from his body.

And you didn't let that go either.

Your eyes took on a caustic gleam that you quickly hid, turning to the map on the table and going back to drawing the paths. “Okay, Darling.”

After that night, Kaz's self-control began to crumble.

He gave you death glares whenever you called him that nickname, but he never dared contradict or scold you. Much less deny it. The truth was, the core of his soul wanted this. He wanted every part of your caress warm as summer. He wanted to appreciate how perfect you looked when you called him that way. As if that nickname was born just to be used between you.

Something unique.

Over time, his body's physical reactions began to be stronger, coercive and overwhelming. Kaz felt dry, burning, and you soothed and inflamed him at the same time. You were the breath of peace, and also a glass of hot brandy.

And everything that he once felt dead, frozen or putrefying, slowly began to blossom, reborn and shine.

"Darling." You said, going behind the chair Kaz was sitting in, submerged in the Krisha security system sheets in front of he. “You've been there for hours.”

He ignored you, though his body was all too aware of yours behind him, the way your breath hit the top of his ear, how your heat hit his back like a high summer breeze. Kaz swallowed hard, ordering his eyes to stay on the pages.

“What are you reading?”

Your voice rang out from the top of his head, and Kaz felt his heart race into a cardiac arrhythmia the second your hands went to the back of the chair and your face tilted, chin hovering millimeters from his shoulder, your nose almost brushing his cheek.

Fucking Saints! You were hot! It was as if you had sun bathed, swam in the flames of fire, and been born into the summer.

Kaz lost his breath. His sanity. His soul.

“Do not do this.” His voice was no more than a whisper.

You looked at him, the furs not touching but breath hitting each other's cheeks. Kaz followed your gaze, and suddenly the world subtly turned hot. Pulsing and muffled.

“What?” You whispered, your heart so fast.

This was the time for Kaz to use the touche in a very valid argument. To make you move away as fast as you approached. To nip in the bud any path this interaction between you could take. He should have said about the touch. But he didn't remember. Kaz didn't remember his limitation, his traumas, his demons.

In that second, of insanity and magic, you couldn't do that just because…

"I feel like I cant breathe when I'm around you." He said.

After that day, Kaz realized that life no longer made sense without having you by his side to share it. Money didn't have the same value anymore if you weren't there, the robberies didn't make sense anymore if he couldn't tell you how it was at the end of the day, or have you by his side to fight.

Very quickly, Kaz Brekker realized that he had lost the battle against his own feelings. Loving you was inevitable. And having you close to him was made as essential as breathing. That's when things between the two of you developed faster, more solid, more right. The weeks turned to months, the months to years, and your relationship fortified as gloriously as the hilt of a sword.

Kaz still had very difficult moments with touching, days when a single brush of fur was unbearable and the mention of a kiss was impossible. But you stayed there. Firm and unshakable. Giving your summer smiles,your warm winks, and his nickname that had the power to soothe every nerve in Kaz's body.

However, the more Kaz understand that he was need you to he still live, the deeper he hid any trace of public affection for you. Any clue that could sparked the theory in someone that you were the reason, for Brekker, for the sun rose every morning. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Never.

Kaz Brekker became very aware that his soul was harnessed to yours. And there was nothing in the world that would take you away from he. Not while he lived, and even seven feet from land, Kaz would still find a way to fight for you.

It was a logical decision when he said you two should get married. Kaz was still trying to maintain his serene posture as his soul burned in a fire too eager and excited to make official anything that said you were his. That he had finally managed to have that ray of sunshine in the midst of the atrocious ocean. You, unlike him, exhaled your happiness in excited squeals, little jumps of joy and a passionate, quick kiss on the man in front of you.

And Kaz understood, as perfectly as the sky are blue, that he would do anything, for the rest of his life, to be worthy of that overwhelming happiness that sparkled in yours smiles.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He said, feeling himself smile because your happiness for the wedding was exorbitant.

And you, like the little tease you were who loved to make him piss off, smiled even more and hugged him. He love you. Unconditionally.

But, just like the ocean waves, Kaz and you have had your ups and downs. He wasn't a man who had a lot of patience, and you weren't the most obedient, calm woman in the world. You found him exasperating and he found you as stubborn as a door.

"I already said you can't do that!" And there he was, once again, lecturing you because you showed too much affection, in his mind, for him in a public situation.

And, as Kaz fucking Brekker liked to point out, ‘all walls have eyes and ears’.

"We've been together for six years, Kaz!" You tried to keep your blood calm, but you weren't a person to put up with sermons. “Is this going to be our life? Living as if we have the same connection as a boss and an employee?!”

“And what do you want, Y/n?!” He placed both hands on his office desk, looking at you from the other side “Want us to have a party and tell everyone?! Or do you prefer to hang a red target on your chest?!”

"I did not say that!" You were starting to get really angry. “I'm not asking for a billboard saying we're married and you know it! The only thing I'm saying is that you let me choose to sit next to you, take your hand, or tell you I love you when any of us go off on a dangerous mission!"

Kaz shook his head, impassable, his gaze flashing with anger. How did you not realize he was trying to save you?! Save everything you two built, your lives! And all this for what? Walking hand in hand on the street? It was ridiculous!

“This is indisputable!”

“Kaz…”

“I said no!” He slapped his hands on the table.

A less brave woman would have cringed. But not you.

“I don’t like to pretend we’re not together!”

“And I don't like a fucking girl who complains all the fucking time about something I do to save her! But it feels like I've been put up with it for six years, doesn't it?!”

The words hit you like a slap. Crackling, burning and electrifying. You felt yourself holding your breath and your shoulders instinctively tightening back. The room was silent. Loaded with tension, as if lightning had just hit the ground.

You looked at Kaz in amazement. And he pursed his lips when he realized what he'd said.

“Put up with? And you call me ‘fucking girl’ ?” You repeated, your voice low, serious and in a mixture of hurt and outrage. “Good to know.”

You turned your back, walking out of the office and slamming the door behind you hard, making the thud reverberate through the corridors of Kaz's soul.

"Y/n!" He called you, striding to the door "Y/n!"

But when Kaz pulled the doorknob and took a few steps down the hall, it wasn't you he bumped into. It was Nina, trying to hide, in a very terrible way, her curious and shocked expression. In female hands she carried a small stack of documents, probably something important that Kaz needed to check.

He had to check that out. But his eyes, restless and quick, wandered the great hall of the crow club below, watching your figure pass between the bodies, advancing towards the exit.

"Sooo…" Nina started, even though the attention wasn't on her. "Couple fights, right?"

But Kaz didn't think before nodding, trying to get past Nina to catch up with you. But of course the girl wasn't going to let Brekker get away with it that quickly. She was betting with Inej how long you two would pretend to have nothing. And now she was going to get the truth!

"So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" The smile of shock and excitement was wide open on her face.

Kaz muttered a curse, gently pushing the girl aside and moving towards the stairs, aiming to catch up with you. But not before answering:

"No, that girl is my wife!"

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz x kruge #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz x jesper #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #freddy carter x you #freddy carter imagines #freddy carter fluffy #freddy carter x reader #freddy carter

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shigarakislittlepet · 3 years

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im so happy to find a blog with good nsfw content for literally all my faves lol we share the same braincell it seems! how about fluffy nsfw headcanons for Dabi, Shigi, Aizawa and Shinsou and well, Baku but I don't want to overwhelm you even if you don't have a character limit hhh, with a s/o that was completely inexperienced in sex before they got together? They grew more comfortable with the idea of sex over time as they used to be really shy about it but they're scared they'll mess up and disappoint their loves? If possible could you mention what kind of approach each boy would have for the first time with their virgin s/o? I'm just feeling some fluffy dick tonite ya know lol stay safe out there <3

Ohhhh my gosh, this whole thing gave me brain rot lmao, thank you for giving me this power <3<3<3

This also took me literal months to finish because life got crazy, so I’m sorry about that. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

TW: loss of virginity, gentelness, fluffy smut, unprotected sex bc I’m a whore (Y/N is on birth control), and as always all characters are adults especially Y/N

-Dabi-

> You are surprised by how patient he is with you. You were sure he’d have gotten tired of waiting, but he didn’t push. He didn’t make you feel badly about it, and the last thing he would ever want to do to sweet little innocent angel is coerce them into something they weren’t ready for. So, he waits.

> It happened so gradually. Over time, light kissing became making out. After a few months, you got more comfortable and it didn’t feel at all odd to fall into bed with him, cuddling and “swapping spit” as he called it, which always made you giggle like a schoolgirl at his crudeness. His hands would test the waters, but he was always feeling for nervous tremors and flinching, never wanting to go further than you were comfortable. At first, he only rested a hand on you lower back, drawing lazy circles into your waist, his other cradling your face gently, reassuringly. Eventually he could get his hand beneath your shirt, still just at your lower back, but he was content with his progress. Your skin was soft and you said he felt warm, and that was the first time he ever thought of his quirk as “sweet, comforting”, as you described the warmth from his hands.

> After a few months went by, he had progressed to the point of being able to freely roam your body with his hands, the warmth helping you stay calm and anchored to him.

> What continued to surprise you is how easy it felt, once you were ready. You didn’t even see it coming. He asked you, so gently, if he could take your shirt off. You told him he could as long as he promised to keep you warm. He went along slowly, constantly reassuring you, “God Angel, you’re so beautiful. I gotta see more of you, can I? Please?”, “You’re so soft, I need to feel more of your skin, angel, please?” You didn’t even hesitate, you didn’t need to. You felt safer with him than you ever had in your life.

> You realized, once you were both naked together, just how comfortable you were with him. And suddenly you felt like you needed to give him everything he ever wanted, and you knew he would do the same for you.

> It happens so slowly, or at least, it feels like it does. His hand slowly grazes down between your bodies until he reaches your core. You gasp, no one but you had ever touched you there, and it feels so foreign and wonderful. And warm. Once you begin bucking onto his fingers, an insatiable grin stretches across his face. He retracts his fingers, bringing them to his lips, and you watch as he sucks them clean. He calls you delicious and rolls on top of you, asks you if you’re ready for him. For the first time, you look down between your bodies and see just how huge and hard he is for you. When he sees your concern he kisses your forehead, then your lips. “I won’t hurt you Angel, I promise.” You nod and smile, and he starts easing into you, stopping every so often when he can tell the stretch is too much. He kisses your cheeks, your shoulders, your lips, whatever he can get his mouth on as he pants and mumbles little praises. “I love you”, “You’re doin’ so well”, “You’re takin’ me sooo well”, “God, you’re so beautiful, you know how beautiful you are Angel?”, “Ahh, you’re so fuckin’ tight and wet for me Angel, you want me that badly?”. The praises and teases help you considerably to keep you relaxed, and fuck, you DO want him. So fucking badly, you need him. When he’s finally seated inside you fully, he waits, clearly using every last bit of his restraint and self control to give you time to adjust. When you finally whine and buck your hips up on him, he loses it. “I hope you’re fuckin’ ready, Angel.”

>You find rather quickly that Dabi’s style is a beautiful mix of “fucking” and “making love”. He fucks you, hard and deep, so much so that it makes you see stars, but while he does it he’s caging you in-between his arms, holding you close while he pistons in and out of you. He looks you in the eyes, watching your reactions, quickly finding what angle makes you convulse and let out those beautiful moans and coos that he’s now desperate to hear.

>When he nears his end, he reaches down between you again to rub sweet circles against your clit, because no way is Dabi cumming first. It’s just not his style.

-Shigaraki-

>BRAIN ROT

> Shigaraki is definitely happy that you’re inexperienced, he’d kill anyone who had ever laid a hand on you before him. You belonged to him.

> It also means that you’re a virgin, which really gets him going because hes a pervert. ((He’s also secretly glad that he’s not the only virgin))

> He is touch starvvveeeeddddddd. We all know this. But at first, he’s so hesitant to touch you, for fear of destroying you.

> You are patient with each other, and together you find out what works and what doesn’t. He got some artist gloves so he could hold your fucking hand without hyperventilating about dusting you. He’s still afraid of you disappearing beneath his fingertips.

> You were never, not even for a second, worried that he would hurt you. You knew that he could, that he had the ability, but you knew that he wouldn’t.

> He wasn’t so sure, he was afraid of rolling over in the night and finding a pile of dust where you used to be. He wakes up from nightmares about it and has to wake you up to hold you while he shakes uncontrollably. He just has to know you’re alive.

> You both get more and more comfortable with physical proximity and contact together, because you both wanted it, you were both just so worried about fucking everything up.

> When the time came where both of you decided you were ready to have sex, you admitted to him that you were afraid of not measuring up to his expectations. All these “what if’s” kept popping up in your mind: “what if he doesn’t find my body attractive enough”, “what if I don’t know how to move right”, “what if I cant please him”, etc. etc. etc.

> He just looks at you kind of taken aback and confused. He was worried about you not being able to see him as sexually attractive because of how he looked, he was just as self-conscious as you. “Darling, you’re the most perfect person in existence, how can you not see that? Look at me! I’m... I... Look like this! How could I ever hope that someone as beautiful as you could ever see me that way?”

>You didn’t immediately know how to respond. You were... heartbroken that he saw himself that way. You couldn’t image him being self-conscious about anything because in your eyes, he was a god. He was perfect and angelic and you told him as much. You looked at him with such adorably big eyes and your voice was full of so much honesty and adoration, he had to have you immediately. He’d never felt desired, he had never felt lovable. He always thought it would be a miracle if anyone would ever be able to even stomach looking at him without cringing away in disgust. But you were so perfect and you loved him so immediately and so much that it knocked him out. He launches himself at you and just kisses you for a while.

> You both fumbled around a bit at first, trying to find what felt best. You both quickly came to the conclusion that you were going to have to practice together. A lot. As much as possible actually, because even in your inexperience, you both felt more amazing than you ever had in your lives. When you were connected like this, panting, kissing, licking, trying your damndest to become one being, it felt like bliss. You never wanted it to stop.

-Aizawa-

> MORE FUCKING BRAIN ROT

> Aizawa has an innocence kink. There I fucking said it.

> When it comes to the person he’s with, he’s a shameless flirt, and while he would NEVER cross a line or pressure you, he definitely does his best to get you in the mood whenever he can, much to your naïve frustration.

> At first you genuinely don’t even realize he’s doing it on purpose. The heated looks he gave you that made your knees weak? You didn’t think he was doing that on purpose, it’s just because he’s... tired? And he always looks so gorgeous, so that’s why. He ALWAYS makes your knees weak. Yeah that’s all it is, obviously.

> And when he comes up behind you, hands on your hips gently, and lowly rumbling in your ear. Sometimes it’s just comments about whatever you’re doing, which was bad enough. But sometimes it was mumbled compliments. About your outfit, how good it made your ass look. About how soft your hair was, how good you smelled, the softness of your skin while he gently rubbed his stubble against your neck.

>YOU COULDN’T FUCKING HANDLE IT.

> He was so soft most of the time, cuddling you while watching movies, cooking together, dancing in the kitchen with you at 3 in the morning after he finished grading papers. The shift that happened when he would get flirtatious was dizzying.

> You were nervous though, Aizawa was a bit older than you, and obviously way more experienced that you. One night while you were curled up in bed together, you told him you were nervous about disappointing him when the time finally came. He sat up and turned a light on immediately and pulled you into his lap. He held you and stroked your hair and told you how much you meant to him, how you could never disappoint him, how much he wanted you, and how he was willing to wait however long you needed. He held you until he was sure you felt better about it, and then he held you until he was sure you were asleep. You were the most important person in the world to him, and he wasn’t gonna let you think anything was ever gonna change that.

> When you finally got tired of his teasing and felt like you were ready, you decided to get him back. Before he got home, you put on one of his long shirts as a dress and started getting dinner ready.

> When he walked through the door and saw that you were wearing nothing but one of his black button ups, he had to maintain every ounce of his self control to contain the rush of feral need that suddenly consumed him. Now it was HIS turn to assume you were being innocent. And man did you play it up. “What’s wrong Shota? Are you feeling okay?” And you bat your big beautiful eyes at him. He was going to have a stroke.

> It wasn’t until you bent over and he noticed you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt that he realized it was an invitation. He came up behind you, caging you in against the counter, and growled lowly in your ear, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He gently pushed his growing erection against your ass, making you gasp. Score.

> “W-what do you mean?” you looked up at him as innocently as you could. He took your hand and pressed it to the front of his pants. He groaned low in his chest, thankful for any friction. “Don’t play dumb with me, kitten. You know exactly what you’re doing. I think you should take responsibility.” You grinned.

> “Yes Sir,” he jolts at that, and you sink your knees and get to work undoing the fastenings on his hero costume. When his cock springs free, you eagerly give it kitten licks until he’s had enough. He grips you by your hair and gently guides your mouth down onto his cock. He’s big, bigger than you can take, but that doesn’t stop Aizawa from purposefully making you gag on him every so often. He really does get off on how innocent you are, the tears that hang in your eyes from gagging on his cock. He’s gonna cum soon if he’s not careful.

> After he’s had his fun making you suck him off, he pulls you up and carries you off to bed. No way he’s taking your virginity on the floor, he’s too much of a gentleman. And dinner, what dinner? Thank god nothing happened to be on the stove or in the oven.

> He sets you down in bed and kisses you, takes his shirt off of you and finishes ridding himself of his hero costume. He takes pride in getting you ready for him, relishing in your sweet noises and how wet you are for him. A fact that he teases you about. “S-Shotaaa~” you moan and clench down on his fingers. He smirks, “What happened to ‘Sir’, hmm? I liked that, you know...” All you can do is whine up at him in response.

> When you feel like you’re close to cumming, you whine louder and clench down harder and before you can reach your peak, he stops. You whine in frustration before he leans down and rumbles, “Oh no, kitten, the only way you’re cumming is if you cum on my cock.” You gasp and nearly convulse at his filthy words, but you’ve never felt like you needed him more.

> He fucks you gently, at first anyway. For as long as he can. He rolls his hips into you and angles his thrusts expertly, aiming for that spot inside you that’ll make your head spin. And he hits it. Every time. And your head DOES spin. And soon you can feel the pressure build again and you start whining again, “Sh-Shouta, please! I’m s-oh! So close!” He smiles, and decides to take pity on you. He pistons harder, faster, brings a hand to your core to rub circles against your clit and when you cum, you scream his name and he can’t take it anymore. He slams into you, chasing his own high and simultaneously extends yours. You’re seeing stars by the time he cums deep into you. He rolls over, bringing you with him. You lie on top of him and he strokes your hair, and you just hold each other for a while.

-Shinso-

> I wanna say this now, Shinso is Aizawa Jr. I’m so sorry, but its true. They’re both tired, overworked, cat lovers that just wanna come home and cuddle and pass out.

> He knows he’s your first boyfriend. You met at UA and pretty much bonded immediately. Now that you’re both pro-heros working for the same agency? It was only a matter of time before he made a move. And thank whatever higher power exists that you have the same schedule. More time for cuddles.

> HOWEVER! Don’t let the fact that he’s a cuddle-bug fool you. He frequently has to remember that you’re a virgin and you’ve never been in a relationship before, so you have no idea how much he’s affected by you answering your door on a Saturday morning you both had off wearing one of his hoodies that absolutely swallows you. Looking up at him smiling and yawning sleepily, rubbing one of your eyes and groggily asking, “What are you doing here so early? I thought we weren’t going out till tonight?”. He has to breathe deeply to stop himself from jumping you.

> Because much like Aizawa, seeing you so sleepy and soft and small and knowing how innocent and naive you are to all of the things you do that make him need you... is going to make him lose his mind. Quickly.

> Instead of an innocence kink though, this motherfucker has a corruption and a mind break kink. He wants to make it impossible for you to feel pleasure without him, he wants to make you need him desperately, forever. And he wants to do it without the help of his quirk. But that would all come in time, at the moment he has to stop himself from cumming in his pants because you’re bending over on your way to your room so you can change, stooping to pet your cat and his hoodie rode up your ass and he can see your lacy black panties and you were GOING to drive him insane long before he ever got the chance to make you his, he was sure.

> He had brought you coffee and suggested you just stay in all day since you both had such a late night. Watching movies and stuff. You know, normal stuff. He told himself he wasn’t going to try and make a move. Right? Right.

> But when you emerged from your room 45 minutes later, showered and changed, your hair still damp and a droplet of water drifting down your neck and landing in the dip of your collar bones, all he could think of was licking it up. How good your hair must smell, how your skin was still probably warm form the water... He was staring, and you pretended not to notice.

> You were nervous about not measuring up to his expectations. You’d seen the women he usually went out with, and how comfortable they were with their bodies and their sexuality. How beautiful they were. As far as you were concerned, you were nothing like them.

> He could see the gears turning in your head and the downturn of your mouth, and he asked you what was wrong. He motioned for you to come sit with him, and it wasn’t five seconds before he pulled you into his lap. After some coaxing, you let him know what you were worried about. He assured you that the reason he was so happy with you is because you weren’t anything like the women he had dated before. Because, not only were you far more beautiful than they were, they had also been conceited and cold, only dating him because he was an up and coming pro-hero that could get them into events so they could dump him for the first bigger hero they’d meet. He liked that you were soft and warm and he could trust you, that you had always trusted him, even despite his quirk.

> You talked for awhile, and as the morning sun drifted higher into the sky, you decided it was time to door dash some food. While he ordered it, you excused yourself the restroom. You needed to think. The heaviness of the conversation still weighed on you, and you’d never felt closer to him than you did now. It was time, you were sure. You wanted to give him everything he’d been waiting so patiently for, he deserved it. And so did you damnit, no more of this scaredy-cat bullshit! You gave yourself your best war face in the mirror before you exited the bathroom and going back to the living room where Shinsou was reclined on your couch. Head tilted back, resting on the pillow behind him.

> He was so beautiful. Lavender hair a wild mess, eyes closed and lashes fluttering softly. You wanted to kiss his neck suddenly, and unlike when urges like this usually happened, you didn’t shove the thought away. You quickly straddled him and, before he had the chance to question you, you began kissing up and down his neck softly. “K-kitty...” he groaned beneath you, gripping your waist, his hips jerking up against yours.

> After a while of your explorative kissing, he growled impatiently and flipped you over easily, pressing you into the couch. He kissed you like he might die if he didn’t, deep and slow and desperate. When he finally broke for air and looked at you, he felt his heart and his dick jump. Your flushed face and your eyes that were looking up at him through your eyelashes heavily, your mouth hanging open gasping and your kiss bitten lips, your brows softly cinched at the effort it took for you to remember you needed to breathe.

> He asks you if you’re sure you were ready, and when you nod dazedly up at him he doesn’t need any more convincing.

> He takes his time, he’s slow and methodical. He wants your first time to be an enjoyable experience. Something you can look back on fondly and remember how much he loved you, how good it felt, how comfortable you were. He wanted it to be better than his first time, drunk after a hero convention, with some woman who didn’t remember his name in the morning and never called him back. He pushed the thought away. He focused on you, on how perfect you were.

> When he finally thrusts into you, you think you want to feel like this forever. You tell him so, and beams with pride, pushing your pleasure further. Kissing your neck and praising you. Telling you how perfect you are, telling you all the things you do that drive him crazy, telling you that he’s never going to let you go, that you’re his forever and he’s yours.

> You cum together, and you think that everything in the world must have always been this beautiful. You spend the rest of the day cuddling, eating, and making love.

-Bakugo-

> No thoughts in this mans head. None. At least when it comes to romance. When you first start dating, you had to make the first move cause his oblivious ass just thought you were challenging him. You had to explain to him that what you were actually doing was called “flirting”.

> So when it comes to your first time, you know you’re gonna have to make the first move there too. He fears rejection, so he avoids the things he really wants the most. Which in this case is you whining on his dick.

> But he also knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t wanna scare you, so he leaves it be. Trusting his fist to get the job done when he really needs to let off some steam. Either by punching shit or jerking off.

> One day, you do catch him jerking off, and you immediately start to (stupidly) think that you’re not enough for him, that he might leave you for someone who can give him what he needs. You don’t think he notices you having a mini panic attack in the hallway so you sneak back to the kitchen to catch your breath and think. Why HAD you waited this long? What were you waiting FOR? You guessed you had just been worried about not knowing what to do, about him getting impatient and annoyed with you for your lack of experience.

> Making your final decision, you square your shoulders and march yourself back to your shared room. You confidently open the door to find him ... waiting for you?

> “Tch, took you long enough. You done freakin’ out now?” He grumbles from his spot on the bed. You nod meekly and he opens his arms for you, an invitation you gratefully accept. He pets your head and continues grumbling, “ just as bad as shitty-hair, nobody ever knocks anymore. You shouldn’t be surprised when you just try to walk in like that...”

> He keeps petting your head until eventually you hit him with it. “‘Tsuki, I wanna... uhm...” you look up at him with pleading eyes hoping his quirk somehow suddenly allows him to read your mind.

> It doesn’t. “ You wanna what? C’mon, spit it out.” No thoughts, remember?

> You huff and blush and finally squeak out, “Wanna make you feel good, ‘Tsuki...”

> His brain stops working momentarily. When he catches back up, he smirks. “Seriously? It just took you gettin’ jealous over my left hand for you to be ready?”, he teased. You stick out your tongue and he grabs your jaw, looks you dead in the eyes when he says, “I have something much more important for that cute little mouth to do.”

> Your eyes go wide at his suggestion, even though it really doesn’t surprise you. When Katsuki wants something he wants to go all out, no half-assing it. You nod nervously and he laughs at your apprehension, allowing you to shift down his body until you were face to face with his fly. You undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, and gently guide his dick out of his jeans.

> Beautiful is the first word to come to your mind. Beautiful and massive, just like the rest of him. He was easily over six feet tall, and built too so it really shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. For a moment all you can do is look up at him from your place below him, your big strong hero. You melt a little and you notice him smirking down at you again, “What ‘ya lookin’ at, princess?”. He gently strokes your cheek while you admire him, “You.” you reply dazedly. His smirk widens to a bear malicious grin, “Me? How come?”. A feeling you’re not totally familiar with, but you’re pretty sure is called submission, fills you suddenly and you feel warm and content. “You’re perfect,” you bat your eyelashes and bite your lip as you gently start to stroke your hand up and down his length.

>He controls his breathing, because he really can’t handle you looking so cute with his cock that close to your pretty little face. “‘Tch, and? What’s got you so worked up about it?” You giggle and nuzzle your face into the base of his cock and look up at him innocently. “I’m just glad I’m yours,” you smile and lick him from base to tip before gently taking him into your mouth. You’d read enough smut online to at least have some idea how to do this.

> He almost cums when you say that you’re glad to be his. His, he grins. He doesn’t get to think about that for too long though because your warm, wet tongue is sliding up his shaft and then your pretty little mouth engulfs him and he thinks he might hyperventilate if you keep looking up at him like that. He’d almost say it wasn’t fair, but then you start moving and he thinks that he could actually die happily from the warm bliss that fills him while he watches you try to take more and more of him down your throat.

> This is much more fun than you thought it would be, especially because Katsuki keeps letting out those little sighs and groans, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You hollow out your cheeks and suck a bit harder before taking a deep breath and relaxing your throat as much as possible. You lower yourself down as far as you can, pushing past the ring of muscle in the back of your throat before moving down further. You feel him lay his hand gently, encouragingly, on the back of your head. You’re surprised when you find your nose nestled in the light blonde fuzz at the base of him and you stick your tongue out to lap at the underside.

> He jolts when you begin your descent. You’re not really gonna try to deep-throat him, are you? He watches you, mesmerized. No ones ever even tried, always saying he was way too big. It felt way too good. He laid a hand on the back of your head to ground himself, quickly realizing he had to control himself so that he didn’t clench his fist in your hair or shove you down all the way and hold you there. When you reached your goal, he sighed. Your throat felt perfect wrapped around him, just like he knew it would. When he felt your tongue sneak out of your mouth and lick, he thanked whatever creator there was that your tongue was long enough to reach his anchor. when you start to move your head up and down, he can only take it for so long before he’s thrusting up into your mouth. When you gag on him, that’s it, he has to pull you off him before he grips your head and suffocates you on his cock.

> He’s nearly at the point of begging, but thankfully, mercifully, you seem to get the idea. You wipe your mouth and lie back on the bed, giggling at his abruptness and he growls in response. He kisses you, and praises you, telling you how good you are, how much he needs to be inside you as he undresses you. You’re surprised at how automatically your legs open for him, and you tell him how much you need him inside of you as well. You feel so empty all of a sudden. Until one of his thick fingers finds your molten core and gathers some of your slick before sinking into you and you gasp.

> He continues to kiss and praise you as he works you with his fingers. You whine and moan and beg, it’s like music to his ears. When he thinks you’re ready, he lines himself up with your entrance, sliding up and down, grinding against your clit briefly before continuing. “I wanna hear you beg for it, princess.” and fuck, did you beg. A beautiful litany of filthy fucking words fell from your mouth, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He sinks into you fully in one thrust, gripping your open legs for stability.

> At first you can’t speak, you can’t make any noise at all. You feel so unbelievably full, and you look up at him and his eyes are clenched shut and his jaw is set. He’s holding himself back. He’s trying to be gentle with you because it’s your first time. He really is very sweet when he wants to be. You raise a shaky hand to his face and he leans into it. He met your eyes and you watch as his control falters when he sees you bent in half like this. You smile, “Katsuki, please”, is all you can say. It seems to open the flood gates. For all his self control, he pounds into you mercilessly and it fills you with the most intense feeling of ecstasy. “F-fuck ‘Tsuki, you feel s-so fucking good,” you moan and gasp brokenly.

> He cums hard. Grunting, growling, and near snarling the whole way through. You’re seeing stars, even though you haven’t cum. It had felt so fucking amazing, and you’re more than content with that. Katsuki is definitely not however, and is intent on eating you out until you beg for mercy. He always takes such good care of you.

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #shinsou x reader #shinso smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut

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maxirueee · 3 years

Text

AU Alberu's POV as the experimented Beru

Alberu: Cale?

Cale: ...nggh..yes?

Cale rubs his eyes as he tried to open them slowly only to see his lover looking right at him with a nervous expression.

Alberu: I suddenly had a bad dream.

Cale: It's literally 3am in the morning.

Alberu: mm..yea- well *fidgeting*

Cale: Spit it out. What was your bad dream about Beru?

Alberu: DON'T CALL ME THAT ANYMORE- PLEASE just please I'm begging you...

Cale was in deep shock that his lover raised his voice at him just because of what? He called him by his nickname?

Cale: Didn't you tell me multiple times that I should stop calling you 'hyung' when we finally got together?

Alberu: I-its not that.. I just-

Cale: Tell me what's wrong Beru.

Alberu: THAT'S the PROBLEM.

Cale: Which is??

Alberu: That nickname, in my dream I was suddenly trapped in a flat boxed screen, I couldn't move but all I could do was smile. Smiling while looking towards the horizon which seemed endless. White. Blank.

ALberu: After a few minutes I suddenly heard voices. At first, there were a lot of compliments about how radiant I loo-

Cale: Are you even sure that's a bad dream?

Alberu: Yeah it is a bad dream!

Cale: Aren't you just totally flaunting how good-looking you are? You're srsly waking me up in the middle of the night because of this? I'm going back to slee-

Alberu: I SWEAR THAT'S NOT IT!

Cale looks back at Alberu who had a look of desperation. Cale couldn't distinguish if what he's seen rolling down the face of his beloved was sweat or tears. Maybe both. Well, he might as well comfort his lover since that was his job. Alberu: I heard giggles, squeals, people were shrieking with how I finally appeared. They kept saying that I looked so dazzling, how I sparkled. They were even speaking the same annoying lines that you tell me every time with your glib tongue.

Cale: Whatever do you mean oh shining sun of the Roan Empi-

Alberu: My point exactly *glaring at Cale*

Cale: Alright go on.

Alberu: It went on for days, I couldn't tell how long I was trapped in that frame-like screen window, all of a sudden I reverted back to my dark elf form.

Cale continues to stare at him, already feeling bored as he watched Alberu continue ranting his struggle of a mere dream. Although he found it amusing as he heard him say the next lines.

Alberu: But it didn't stop there, my hair color suddenly changed to a blood-red color just like yours Cale. I was the spitting image of you. And the voices agreed on how we really are sworn brothers if we just switched hair colors.

Cale: Hoh...

'There must be something more to this if it actually made the emperor of the Roan Kingdom have buckets of sweat rolling down his pretty face.'

Alberu: It was until I heard somebody say, 'How about a Pink Haired Beru?'

Cale: Huh?

Alberu: My hair color immediately changed to pink, then sky blue, then green, then orange, then red again. I didn't know when it'd stop but I couldn't even budge. Even when I wanted to so bad.

Alberu looked dead straight in Cale's eyes, with both his hands firmly holding his partner's shoulders, but ironically he was shaking. Alberu Crossman was shaking in fear. For what reason? Is this another one of the Sun God's pranks to his lover? Perhaps it was the God of Death again? He continues to ponder at the annoying thought that maybe divine beings were messing around his precious people again but stopped as Alberu continued speaking his worries.

Alberu: I thought it was okay since it was just a hair color change..then a woman's voice asked with great anticipation, "HOW ABOUT A BALD AND A MOHAWKBERU?"

Alberu: I continued to smile, even when my luscious golden blonde hair was instantly gone and I was suddenly bald. BALD! I saw numerous hearts floating in front of me and I could hear the mockery and laughter of beings I could not even see. Yet I continued to smile.

Cale was speechless.

Alberu: For some reason, I could read the words floating in front of me. "EVERYBODY GIVE IT UP FOR THE ROAN KINGDOM'S FAVORITE SHINING SUN- BALDBERU" is what it said. More hearts appeared at a scary rate and I couldn't even shout or move. I was terrified.

Alberu glared at the person in front of him like a mad man. Cale just shut up and listened to whatever he said, Alberu really looked mental.

Alberu: The woman from a while ago spoke again, I swear her voice was scary beyond belief. She added "Okay everybody hold up- Now imagine DELINQUENT HAIRCUT AlBERU"

Alberu: My hair suddenly grew back twice as much and it was styled into this weird looking hairdo...

Cale continued to have his stoic face which made Alberu feel relieved. Little does he know Cale was on the verge of laughing his ass off-

ALberu: I suddenly heard "JOSUBERU I CAN'T WITH THIS FANDOM- YA'LL REALLY DID IT U PUNKS" again from that mortifying woman since earlier, apparently it was done by a group of people claiming to be my fans?! BUT THE MONSTROSITY THEY'VE- no that wasn't even half of it

Cale: 'There's actually more?! PFFFFFT' I see, continue then. The prince saw his darling sweetheart Cale shaking as if he was sympathizing with what he was going through. At that very moment, he felt touched by his lover's empathy towards himself.

Alberu: The horrors didn't end just there as I was still waiting for the whole nightmare to be over, they were begging for a 'Voldeberu' which I don't even understand, at that point, I SUDDENLY LOST MY NOSE!!

I WAS BALD AGAIN AND MY NOSE DISAPPEARED YET I WAS STILL SMILING. I HAVE NEVER FELT SO MUCH FEAR IN MY LIFE.

Alberu: Somebody then proposed a 'Clowberu' AND MY FACE SUDDENLY BECAME A CLOWN WEARING MAKEUP. The hardships I had to take while staying still like a fucking mannequin. BUT IT STILL DIDNT STOP THERE.

Cale almost broke into laughter as he wanted to continue listening to his lover's amusing dream! If he laughs now Alberu might as well punch him in the face.

Alberu: I wanted to cry, I pleaded with the Sun God in my head that I want this to stop but I didn't get what I wanted. Instead, a chatbox suddenly appeared, I almost pissed my pants reading at the schemes of those so-called 'fans' had for me.

Cale: Oho.. what did you s-see then? 'Pfft'

Alberu: "LET'S MAKE HIS SKIN GREEN WITH ONLY ONE EYE, MIKE WAZOWSKIEBERU" "We need a butt, BUTTBERU" "I still didn't get my mohawhkberu!" "TWIN TAILESBERU" "AFROBERU!" "MONKBERU!" "SANGWOOBERU" "COWBERU" "UCHIHABERU" "I SAY NUNBERU! NUNBERU SUPREMACY RISE!!!!!!"

I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT MIKE WAZOWSKI BERU! BUT THEY WANT MY HEAD TO BE A COW?! HOW COULD THEY TO THE EMPEROR OF THE RO-

Cale couldn't handle it anymore he bursts out laughing, almost in tears.

Cale: BUHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH!!! If only I was there to see it all! I ca- I CANT! MIKE WAZOW- WAZOWSKI HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH AND AFRO?! HAHAHAHAHAHA

Alberu: How could you be laughing at my pain?!

Cale: Oh dear emperor of mine, isn't it fine that you have such 'entertaining fans' of yours?

Alberu: Entertaining can't even describe those lots... They all praised me for how I was the rising sun of the Roan Kingdom as they humiliated my every being. To the point where they even planned on turning me into 'LIGHTBULBERU'. A FUCKING LIGHTBULB BECAUSE THEY WANT ME TO SHINE LITERALLY. A WALKING FLASHLIGHT KING. ME. ALBERU CROSSMAN.

Cale: PFFT HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Alberu: Haaaahh... You don't understand because you were never in my position. Those fans were a bunch of lunatics I say, LUNATICS!

What Alberu doesn't know is that we, the fandom won't just stop there...

Alberu felt shivers down his spine as he recalled the very vivid and realistic experience he had inside his dream.

Cale: I am so telling this to Tasha, my esteemed and very much adored Beru <3

Alberu: JUST CALL ME HYUNG PLEASE!!

The trauma seemed to have sunken deep into his mind that every time Cale calls him by that nickname, he subconsciously touches his hair and nose in order to reassure himself that it's still there.

I'm tagging these superb beings for making the thread LEGENDARY: @cale-alberu @chunnicalesimp @thescarletguard @trashduchesshenituse-reblogs @farmercale @just-a-sleepy-person @annerisk @pile-of-sticks @trash-duchess-henituse @icyteaa

#tcf #trash of the count's family #tcf crack #incorrect tcf quotes #alberu crossman #cale henituse #CALEBERU #First Fanfic but it's crack #CRACK CRACK CRACKITY CRACK #Tasha mentioned #Sun God #God of Death #Lunatic Fandom #this is why I love this fandom

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dashedwithromance · 3 years

Text

Secret Moments In A Crowded Room - Princewitch

okay so DISCLAIMER im scared to post this because we’ve never really seen romantic wrath before so idk if people might think this is OOC but i wanted princewitch fluff desperately and cant wait til october. inspired by the teaser quote she released yesterday and ‘dress’ by taylor swift

The ball raged on around her, dancers swirling around impossibly fast, flashes of fabric catching the light of the serpent scones. On and on, all without her. Her husband sat to her right on his larger throne, staring into nothing. They had exchanged all of five words that evening.

She did not blame her husband for his coldness, not truly. If their positions were switched, and she had been forced to marry a random demon while still loving and grieving her murdered spouse, she doubted whether she would even manage civility. Pride continued his business, barely taking notice of his young wife, and she was glad, of that, at least. If he’d wanted her... a shudder snaked down her spine, curling in her gut. Her mind still echoed with the unnatural violation of Lust’s magic, and the thought of another demon prince perusing her like that was foul. There was only one prince she wanted, and his sin was wrath.

Dancing in Hell was nothing like she’d seen on the streets of Palermo. Nothing like the carefree dancing of Vittoria, so full of light and life and love that nothing seemed to touch her. Here, movements entwined with danger, every dance a flirtation with living death. People danced with weapons, exchanging daggers and rondels and rapiers like secret lovers. Jewelled garrottes hung around every neck, poisonous pearls glittering in various ornate hairstyles. An unholy masquerade indeed.

Her own mask was a fine decoration of gold and jewels. Metallic serpents entwined across the mosaic-like surface, darker cracks embedded across it. The mask had arrived one evening at her rooms, wrapped in luscious velvet. No letter accompanied it, the only sign of the sender being a golden snake that slithered up her arm before dissolving into sparks. The decoration matched her dress, a similar mosaic of black silk, lace, and golden serpents. Truly befitting a queen.

Fury burned through her as she watched the revellers pass her by. They danced without a care, members of the seven houses intermingling freely. She wanted to scream and shatter the very throne she sat on. How dare they dance as if mere months ago, one of their own had not been taking the hearts of witches? As if she did not sit on a dead witch’s throne? A witch who still had not found justice, who’s body had been ripped to shreds in the cruellest way imaginable?

“Careful, little queen.” Pride’s voice rumbled in her ear. He still did not look at her, but leaned closer to whisper, “Lest the people learn your ungrateful thoughts.”

Closing her eyes to avoid murdering the demon she’d married, she took a deep breath. The air smelt like fire and spirits and the sweat of colliding bodies. Suddenly, the sight of it all disgusted her. The dancing, the drinking, the living, all of it. Selfish, she knew – others were allowed to live despite Vittoria being denied the very same. But she couldn’t help it. She longed for nothing more than her sister to live, even if it meant sacrificing her life to the demon beside her. There was nothing to be done, however. Her sister was lost forever.

The night dwindled on, interrupted by the occasional violent thought towards her situation. Though, as contrary as it sounded, not all was dark about her time in Hell. She had one bright spot, one flame in the dark. Something she kept locked against her chest for fear of discovery.

Casting her eye across the room, she caught the gaze of the hidden secret. Prince Wrath leaned against the wall from across the room, his eyes flickering as they locked with hers. He was dressed in a sinfully beautiful suit, a pattern of golden serpents slithering up the fabric from the floor. The snakes seemed alive in the firelight. Perhaps they were. A smug sense of satisfaction ebbed through her when she realised they matched. No one else would notice – serpents weren’t exactly an uncommon motif in Hell – but they knew, and it was comfort enough. With a movement, so small she nearly missed it, he tilted his head towards the exit.

A thrill raced through her, paired with genuine, loving excitement. They had not been alone in much too long.

Things had not always been so relaxed between her and the prince of Wrath. Her first few weeks in Hell had been spent furiously glaring in his direction. He’d given her the ultimate cold shoulder until she’d nearly burned from it. She’d been full of fury at his leaving her – at the humiliation she felt from having the human audacity to trust a demon. One day, when they crossed each other in a hallway heading to court, her temper had bubbled to boiling.

She remembered yanking him into a nearby room – he let her, she realised now – and yelled at him for the cruelty of leaving her alone. Of giving her hope and wrenching it away, like a child suddenly filled with jealously over a shared toy.

The sheer incredulity on his face was the first indication she was mistaken. He laughed, a sardonic sound coated in disbelief.

“I left you?” His voice was low. The walls around them seemed to thrum in response to his deadly power.

“I left you?” He repeated, “I gave you all the tools to summon me, witch, and you refused. Too good for my help, perhaps. I have no more responsibilities to you. Our deal is done.”

Wrath turned to leave, but by some miracle, she managed to dart in front of him. Her body was pressed against the door, the cold stone mixing with the heat she felt roaring off him. Emilia should’ve been afraid, should’ve been trembling in her gifted boots at the sight of him, but she wasn’t. Why, she couldn’t quite tell.

His gaze burned into hers, but her own was just as powerful.

“I tried everything to summon you after what Envy did, and you didn’t come.” She hissed. The wrath of a prince was one thing, but hell hath no fury like a witch scorned. “You left me. I was foolish enough to believe you would ca- that you would come for me once, but I will not be fooled twice.”

The look he gave her was indiscernible. Equal parts rage mixed with... something lighter. If anyone else looked at her like that, she would’ve described it as hopeful. But demons did not hope, no more than they loved.

He was scanning her face with the focus of a battle-hardened warrior. Whatever it was he found made him take a step back.

“What did you do wrong?” He muttered, almost to himself.

“I did nothing wrong,” She couldn’t help but fire back, “I did everything correctly – even used the ring you left for me in the drawer.”

At that, he stilled. Stilled and stopped breathing entirely.

Then, as if talking to someone who’d sustained a head injury, he said, “I didn’t leave you a ring. I left you my house seal, solid gold, of course, but no ring.” He went on to describe where he’d left it – the top drawer beside her bed – but she already knew.

The conclusion settled in her stomach like a stone. Another feeling, one she didn’t let herself scrutinise, unfurled within her.

“Someone didn’t want me to summon you.”

“Close. Someone wanted you to think I wouldn’t come.”

A question hung in the air, so loud neither could bring themselves to give it voice.

Would you have come, Prince Wrath? Would you have come to my aid when I needed you most? When I needed to know you were alright?

Keeping those treacherous thoughts under lock and key, she focused on another facet of the curious mystery.

“Who would it benefit? And who would’ve known what to switch – the house was warded, was it not?”

Silence from her princely counterpart.

“Would the wards collapse with your ‘death’?”

The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Someone had stolen into the house and replaced the seal with a ring to deliberately throw off their efforts. Which meant-

He hadn’t abandoned her at all. Given her the cold shoulder, yes, when he believed she’d forgotten all about him.

What a hellish mess this all was.

From that moment on, the demon and the witch had become begrudging allies once more. Wrath had been furious one of his brothers would dare interfere with his affairs, and she needed an ally, desperately. While it rubbed against her pride to accept help, she knew it would’ve been foolish to refuse. She would be a vengeful queen, but even queens needed council.

Their alliance had turned to friendship, then burst into royal flames as they look the leap to lovers. In the candlelight of a stolen moment, Wrath had held her with more care than she’d known possible. Still Wrath, still echoing that immense power of his, but softer, somehow. Not gentle, not truly, but tender. It was not love, but it was fire and anger and care all pieced together in a ball of desire.

Which led her to that moment, as she stole away from her husband’s masquerade ball. She had stayed long enough, and the party celebrated nothing of importance. Rather a show of unity between her and Pride, a display of wealth and power.

As she left the throne room she realised she had no idea where her prince had gone. Back to his rooms? No, they avoided meeting there. Being caught together in casual rooms could be explained away as strategic briefings, but being caught in the bedroom of her husband’s brother... did not leave for much escape room.

Just as she was about to curse his name, a snake slithered around her ankle, causing her to start. Was that Wrath’s laugh, she heard? Looking to her feet, the snake stared back up at her, its golden eyes winking in the candlelight of the hallway.

Of course. Wrath and his dramatics.

The snake made its way down the hallway, keeping close to the wall to be inconspicuous. It led her to an offshoot of the main hallway, then came to a halt at the final door. The serpent dissolved into golden sparks as they reached their destination. She knocked quietly before letting herself in.

Wrath lay stretched out across a dark velvet lounge, watching her entrance. His mask dangled lazily from his fingers, the ribbon used to tie it brushing across the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, a toned chest peeking out from the fabric.

Deadly, dangerously beautiful.

And hers.

“You look exquisite,” He strode across the room before taking her in his arms. His hands quickly untied her mask before tossing it to the floor with haste. He took in her form for a moment, then tilted his face down to capture her lips with his own.

No matter how many moments they stole, it was never enough.

His kiss was liquid fire igniting the flame of her desire. One hand rested against her back, with the other cupping her face. She gasped against his mouth, revelling in how desperately hard his body felt against hers. Greedy hands slipped up his chest to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Pulling the material away, Emilia broke the kiss for a single second to gaze at her lover.

Smooth, tanned skin met her eyes, followed by a swift appreciation of the hard strength that lay beneath his trousers. He laughed as he caught her gaze, knowing exactly what she was admiring.

He kissed her again, this time grabbing the backs of her thighs and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist. The taste of him- Taste was her speciality, but there were no words to describe how perfectly Wrath kissed her.

After too long and never long enough, the lovers parted for breath. He still held her against his chest. In this position, she was the perfect height to rest her head in the crook of his neck. Their breathing echoed through the room in perfect harmony.

She could feel every rise and fall of his powerful, tattooed chest. Such lethal power contained within his body, yet he held her with all the tenderness the world could offer.

“You know,” He mused, “We never got to dance.”

“Are you asking?” A sly smile in his direction.

“Yes. Witch, will you dance with me.” He said witch the way men said love. She looked down at him, grinning.

“No. I can’t dance.”

He laughed. Such a bright sound for one bathed in darkness.

“Liar.”

“Fine. I don’t dance, because I’m awful at it.”

A teasing hand ran down her back.

“I’ll teach you.” At her raised brows, he continued with, “A queen must use every skill in her arsenal.”

Lowering her to the ground, he held out his hands for her to grasp.

“Place your right hand in mine, and left against my shoulder.” Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat roaring off him. When she did as he instructed, he pulled their bodies together until not even an inch separated them. Emilia was fairly certain this wasn’t part of the dance, but she wasn’t going to interrupt. She quite liked this position, pressed against the prince of Wrath, his breath rustling her hair. His hand settled against her spine.

“This next bit is the most important, do you hear? It is crucial even that beginners like yourself get this right.” He teased, and she scowled back at him, though they both knew it was merely in jest.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented, and forget everything else. Except how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down her spine, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.” As he spoke, they started to move. Slowly, he stepped back and followed. To the side, and she followed again. On and on, their little box pattern continued, until Wrath picked up the paced and spun her around.

A gasp left her lips at the movement, but before she could overthink and stumble, he caught her once more with a smile.

“Who are you, and what have you done with the moodiest prince of Hell?”

He shook his head at her words, huffing a laugh as he did. She felt the truth bloom in his chest, he didn’t have to say it. These borrowed moments, these secret trysts... it was happiness, rare as it was, that fluttered between them. They both knew it couldn’t last, but for now, it was real. In that moment, it was all that mattered.

“Teasing witch,” He murmured, and kissed her. Kissed her as if they were not members of two rival houses, as if she was not an unwilling wife to his bastardly brother, as if there were not a chasm of reasons to keep them apart. Tomorrow would bring hellfire, and perhaps regret, but tonight was theirs.

They kissed until night dwindled away into day, and their secret was no longer safe. With the promise of “soon” and an unspoken “I miss you”, Wrath kissed her once more before exiting her side.

The queen of Hell picked up her mask from where it had been tossed across the floor, and stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. The moment had passed, and she was no longer just Emilia, a powerhouse in her own right, and friend and lover of Wrath’s.

She was the Wicked Kingdom’s vengeful queen, and she would find her happiness once more, or burn the world trying.

let me know if you wanted to be added to my KOTW tag list!

tags: @shadowturtlesstuff @otome-azarada @chococannolii @beccalovesbooksstuff @duchess-of-nothing-and-nowhere @caseyannblog @constantwriter85 @fleawithadegree @athousandsilversuns @emiliadicarlos @silversublime @watch-the-pen @sleeping-and-books @demirunner

#princewitch #kingdom of the cursed #kingdom of the wicked #emilia di carlo #prince wrath #is this accurate almost certainly not #also i read kotw in september so i have no memory of the little things #wrath: a fucking softie #emilia: full of rage #pride: still in mourning #(dick: OUT)

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rapspud · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet

Bittersweet A/N: Decided to rewrite this one. Please enjoy.

Yoongi looked at your friends as he sneered at your prone form sprawled out on the ground, your fingers scrambling to find your glasses.

“Aw what’s the matter? The poor baby can't see?” He purred as he picked up your glasses and dangled them in front of your face before throwing them into the dumpster. “Have fun diving!” He cackles as he slides past your prone figure, cruelly stepping on your hand as he passes.

You could hear the snickers of his friends behind you. You watched as his best friend, Seokjin clapped Yoongi on the shoulder, and whispered, “Oi, I get the whole I hate “y/n” thing but seriously—that was a bit much don’t you think?”

Yoongi couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “She ratted us out! So I fixed it-and now she can’t see to snitch! And shouldn’t you be on my side? You’re in just as much trouble as I am!”

Seokjin could only look at Yoongi like he had a third head, “ Yeah I guess, but still...there is-” at Yoongi’s raised eyebrow he swallowed what he wanted to say, instead choosing to leave rather than to help Yoongi’s victim, “Hey I gotta go I’ll catch you later okay?”

Yoongi smiled and waved good-bye before walking away from the group. How could he possibly explain how much he hated Y/N? No one here knew the truth about your families-how he had to share a home with you, your family serving his. He had no respite from you. Yeah, Y/N deserved everything she got, he thought as he got into his car. Plus it's not like you wouldn’t rat him out when you got home about what happened. This time as he drove past you and saw you hunched in on yourself, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as he saw you clutching your injured hand, staring resolute at the dumpster, knowing full well that you would go in after the glasses. After all, he knew how hard your mother worked to buy them for you, he knew how you worked 2 jobs and also kept track of your younger brothers. Deep down, he really hoped that maybe this time you would finally explode and tell everyone about all the horrid acts he committed against you.

Except that you never did tell on him.

In fact, you avoid Yoongi like the plague. After finally scrambling into the dumpster and reclaiming your glasses, you clambored back out, hand still screaming in pain. As you stand there wiping the garbage from the lenses and picking off random refuse from your clothes you honestly don’t think you can sink any lower than this. You swipe grimey hands at your cheeks as hot tears run down them, thankful that you are alone. And as you walk away you begin to make plans. You couldn’t keep doing this. And with renewed energy you begin walking home, not didn’t looking back choosing instead to forge ahead, putting one foot in front of another until finally you were in your mid=twenties, and had your own little place. You were happy with your life. But you should have known. All good things must come to an end eventually. You hadn’t thought about him in years, attending school, graduating, opening up a bakery with your best friend. Essentially you were hiding, but not really.

And then by some ill stroke of luck, he found you.

You awaken to the blaring of your alarm with a groan. Was it really 8 am? The flashing numbers of your clock inform you that it was in fact 8:59. Shit you were late. Cursing your snooze butten, you scrambled out of your bed and grabbed the cleanest clothes you could find off the floor and stumble as you attempt a whole new balancing act: pulling up your pants while holding a hot cup of coffee and a piece of toast dangling precariously from your teeth. As you run down the street towards the bus, slinging your backpack over your shoulder while you scramble to tuck your shirt in you promptly run into a solid wall and fall on your ass. Your hair is covering your face as you look up at what you had plowed into, an apology already leaving your mouth when you got to the face. “Um…hi, uh…sorry about that.”

“Y/N. From YHSN?”

“Yes?” you become wary, no one around here really knows you as you chose to keep to yourself…“Do I know you?”

The grin that spread across the man’s face could be described as nothing less than cruel and vicious. “Yeah, Y/N L/N right? I am here to inform you that you have 24 hours to vacate the premises. Good luck.” He stated before unceremoniously dropping an envelope onto your lap and turning on her heel to leave you in a stunned heap on the floor.

What the hell had just happened? Maybe you were still dreaming?

You were dazed for a moment as your brain tried to compute the absolute absurdity of what had just happened and then you were on your feet chasing the man, yelling at him to stop but he just kept on walking.

Finally catching up to the man, you grab her arm, “What the fuck man?” you yell, “this is illegal as hell! Thirty days is the minimum!” You shove the notice back at the man, hitting him in her (very solid) chest hard.

“Y/n, Y/n, I see you're still full of venom huh? It’s completely legal actually-you see I” he leaned forward, “own the building now. And to my delight, what do I learn? I find out that Y/N L/N happens to be a tenant! Guess how happy I was to finally find you again after all these years and then get to have you vacate your home.” he laughs as you gape at him like a fish.

“Min fucking Yoongi, I do not have time for your petty ass childish bullshit! ” you hers, voice laced with venom.

“Aw kitten you remembered! I am truly honored! But alas I cant stay and chit-chat, and well, neither can you. Tata chica!” With that he jerks her arm from your grasp, sending you back to the ground in shock for the second time that morning, before climbing into an expensive black car and driving away.

You scream curses to the sky, because after 8 peaceful years, the man you had spent so long running from and then finally forgetting, had found you. But of course, the sky only decides to rain. And as you trudge back home to call into work, (because seriously fuck this day) you can’t help but wonder how everything came to this moment. After a shower and change of clothes, you fall into your bed, allowing yourself one moment of respite before you begin to tackle this new problem, closing your eyes.

You were back there again, trapped both in a small body and the cave that haunts you as you watch helplessly at the rising water. Your tiny voice is raised, tinted with fear, “I told you we shouldn’t come here! My mama said-“

The boy next to you cut you off, “Crying ain’t gonna fix it, I will save us”

“You can't even swim,” You yell, unable to remain calm.

“I AM GONNA SAVE US!” the small boy shouted, “so don’t cry Y/N.” He gave you a small smile, one that made you feel slightly safer and he took hold of your hand. “Follow me and don’t let go no matter what.”

“Okay,” you say, for some reason feeling braver after placing your faith along with your hand into the boy’s hand. He said he would, so of course he would save both of you. After all, he was your best friend and you don’t pick losers.

It was a lot harder though, when all was said and done. Yes, the two of you made it out of the cave alive, but not without nearly drowning, and you had slipped and injured your ankle along the way. Luckily, you did make it out, and while the two of you spent a cold wet night huddled together on the beach, you were alive. In the morning, you were rescued further as the search teams found. And while your mother had you wrapped up in her warmth and was crying and thanking the people over and over that had saved you, the same welcoming was not happening to the young boy. You could hear screaming as a woman in a fine dress and her husband yelled at the boy, your tiny hero, before there was a loud smack. You watch as the boy falls, hand clenched to her face, tears streaming down her face as her mother continues to land hard blows upon her body until she is dragged away. You cried out for you friend and as the two of you met eyes, for the first time you saw hatred reflected back at you. That was the day Min Yoongi stopped being your friend and became your tormentor.

He followed you everywhere, taunting you, breaking your things, and ultimately breaking you. Your mother finally quit working for her house the day he’d thrown your glasses into the garbage and you had come home, broken glasses in hand, face streaked with tears and reeking of garbage -you had finally confessed what had happened, what all had been happening. You had moved away, your mom working several jobs and then as well as yourself working, then you working to pay your way through chef school and finally moving out into your own place. And all of it had just been destroyed because he found you.

You sigh looking up at your ceiling letting your anger consume you as you curse Min Yoongi to a lifetime of diarrhea. And an itchy butt. And you hoped her eyebrows fell out, just for good measure.

You look around your apartment one last time before closing the door with finality. this asshole, you think to yourself. “Just wait” you say as you look down at the address your brother had just texted you.

An hour later you stand before a gated house and ring the doorbell. And ring it. And ring it. And continue ringing it (after all it was nearly 6 am, and as you had learned that morning, if you want to ruin someone's day, do it first thing in the morning) until a sleepy figure stumbles outside and smacks your hand away. You take this opportunity to dart inside the gate and into the house carrying your things with you.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Yoongi yells at you from outside, beginning to stomp back to her front door. You could only grin as you take in the pajama bottoms and robe, while you stand there like a goddamn Amazonian queen, “You took my home. this is payback.” and then you dialed the police, “Yes? Officer? There’s a half naked man on my lawn, please send help! I’m so scared”

You couldn’t help the grin that covers your face as you smile at Yoongi, “Good luck asshole.” You say sweetly, before slamming the door in her face. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet as the sound of the lock turning over, followed a second later by desperate pounding at the door. And Yoongi could only pound on the door until the cops showed up and he explained that this was, in fact, her home, as well as that the intruder was actually you. The officers had asked him if he wanted you arrested and for once he let it go, telling them that you were having a lovers quarrel and apologizing that they had to come out over something so silly. As the cops pulled away, he went to the back of the house and slammed the sliding glass door open only to find the house seemingly empty. As he walked from room to room he couldn’t help but get angrier and angrier. But when he found you passed out on her bed, he paused, somehow her anger dissipating instantly. He stood there, looking at your sleeping body and wondered if you would ever know her real feelings for you. If he would ever be able to tell you. And the real question: could you forgive him? He knew it was asking a lot, but he could only hope. He sat and thought about how to express to you the things he needed to say. He wondered how exactly did one explain how guilty he felt about how he treated you, how he didn’t really understand why he went out of her way to make your life miserable back then…and then you had left him. How, when you left he realized just how broken he was inside. When he bought the building he couldn’t believe her luck when he saw your name as one of the tenants, but her old ways came back hard and for some ungodly childish reason he couldn’t control himself. That he should have been apologizing that morning and telling you how thankful he was that it had also brought you back to him. He guessed that it was far too late for him to ever have your forgiveness and he couldn’t help the smile that played on her mouth as he approached the bed. He reached out a hand to smooth back some hair that covered your face when you wherpered, “Yoongi...” he stilled, “…I’m sorry” you mumbled. What could you possibly be sorry for? He couldn’t help it, but it made him angry that you would apologize to him after everything he’d done and especially while in such a vulnerable state that the next thing he knew he was grabbing the blanket and ripping it away from your curled form. It’s momentum sends you over the edge of the bed to land in a heap on the floor. You sit up cursing her very existence,

“What the hell Y/N?!” He yells right back, while you could only manage to stare up at him from where you sat on the floor. But this time you weren’t having any of her bullshit. You jump up and get in her face “ What the hell? What do YOU mean what the hell? Who the hell buys a building solely to evict one person?! Are you that rich? Do you hate me that much?”

Yoongi yelled back, “Hell yeah I do!“

"You have issues, Min Yoongi! I did nothing to you except be born! Do you know how hard I worked to forget what you did to me? And you come just back,” you pause, swallowing thickly, you would not cry. Not here. Not now, “But not anymore! I won't let you break me again Yoongi. I am worth so much more than that!”

Exhausted, you move to push around him but he grabs your wrists instead and pins you against the wall.

“Let me go you asshole!” you yell at him fighting back for once in your life, all while trying to hide your face and the tears that were no longer just threatening to spill over. “Can't you just hate me from a distance? I’m sorry your mom was a horrid cunt to you! I’m sorry, okay! But please, just let me go! Leave me alone” And then her hands were gone, and you were free. You couldn’t help it, you looked up and stared him in the eyes, for once determined to make him see how he wrecked you.

Yoongi could only stare at you, watching as the tears fell, tears once again caused by him, and then he heard the five words that ripped open her wounds, words he knew he deserved, said in a voice so broken he didn’t know where he should start to even attempt to repair it.

“I hate you Min Yoongi.“

He couldn’t stand it, he knew he deserved them but he just couldn’t stand there and just accept them. Accepting those words would be like giving up, and giving up probably the only pure thing he still had in her life. Had. And so he moved, not thinking about consequences, only a desire to cleanse those words from the air around him. He grabs you again, pushing you against the wall, capturing your face in one hand, forcing you to meet her eyes, while he brushes your hair away with the other, "Good. Never forget it.”

And then he crashes her mouth against yours.

You didn’t know how what was happening was happening and some stupid part of you was excited to have him pressed against you, mouth was moving against yours and then you were responding and for some reason it felt so good–like coming home. It was like your body suddenly was against everything you wanted-you found yourself wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, a giggle bubbling up when you nipped at her lip and he groaned. and then you both were tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. And then the world stops making sense. You and Min Yoongi, enemy of the state #1 were having sex. And it was good. It felt so right, like you two had been made to fit each other only. When it was over he lay behind you, placing gentle kisses along your neck and down your collar bone. The last thing you remember before falling asleep in your enemy’s arms was Yoongi gently wherpering a muffled “I’m sorry” into your ear over and over.

When you wake, you are surprised to find an arm wrapped around your waist and you freeze as the memories of the night before come rushing back and you begin to mentally beat yourself up as you carefully slide out of the bed and grab your clothes, making a mad dash out of the house, dressing yourself along the way.

No way had you slept with Yoongi and enjoyed it. You were an idiot of the highest order. You slept with the man who wanted you homeless because he hated you.

You let out a deep sigh as you did a very new special walk of shame to your job, where your boss, Mandi greeted you by yelling, “Oi ! What cat pissed in your cheerios?”

Causing the other workers to laugh until you pinned them with your patented Crazy-eye ™, at which point they scurried away except for that moron Seokjin who slung his arm around your shoulders jovially, “So why is my favorite girl doing the walk of shame?”

You glare and shrug his arm off, “None of your business.”

“Dude its obs-you’re like a whole 4 hours late-and you are never late. So what happened? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll just call me an idiot if I tell you.”

“I swear on cake I won't.”

You raise an eyebrow before saying a name you never thought you’d say just to see him eat his words. “Min Yoongi.”

“Shut the front door! You’re an idiot”

“The cake is ashamed of you and asks that you keep your distance.” You say as you move to the back rooms to put away your belongings.

Not giving up, Seokjin follows you, even going so far as to hand you your apron, “Seriously? Didn’t he like-”

“Terrorize me to the point of moving? Then find me years later and evict me? Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” Seokjin asked worriedly, For the shit talking between the two of you, you smile to know he does really care.

“I have to be.”

“Did you at least use a condom?” He asks.

“Oh my god.”

“You really are an idiot. But don’t worry…you know I’ve got your back right? Well, we’ve got your back.”

You could only stare at Seokjin as your mind whirls through the consequences of last night, “It should be fine right?” you ask.

“Sure, cupcake. Keep telling yourself that”

There is a ding from the door and you see your brother Jungkook shuffles in with your other brother Namjoon, and giving Seokjin a look that clearly says “Keep your mouth shut if you want to live” you take a deep breath and head behind the counter to wash your hands, greeting them as you go.

“COFFEE. COFFEE NOW.” Namjoon grunts demandingly, taking a seat and burying her head in her hands, while Jungkook adds a half-hearted “Please…and a raspberry jelly for me.”

“Rough night?” You ask as you pour the two men coffee and grab Jungkook her donut and slide it in front of them.

Jungkook grins, “Nah, Joon thought he could out drink me. He thought wrong.”

“Shhhhhhhhh!! You’re so loud,” hersed Namjoon, shoving a hand at Jungkook’s face and missing entirely.

You grin and speak extra loud, “Shouldn’t you know by now to let the kids drink and you go home and sleep?”

Namjoon just glares at you, “I have a gun.”

“I aint scared of you.”

The shop bursts into laughter as Namjoon buries her head in her arms on the counter, “Why do you hate me so much?” He whines.

“Mom likes you more, and I’m a petty bitch.”

Jungkook grins, “But she likes me most!”

Both you and Namjoon glare at him, “Shut up!”

Yoongi wakes up to an empty bed and he frowns, crawling out of bed and pulling on her boxers. He wanders around the house looking for you, hoping that you haven't run away and when he can’t find you, her heart sinks. Was he that awful that you would still run away from him even after what you had shared? And worse, what if he had gone too far this time?

He makes her way back to her room and grabs her phone, calling her secretary.

“Yo.” Answered Hoseok.

“Really that’s how you answer the phone? You do know that I am your boss right?”

“Debatable today.”

Yoongi rolls her eyes, “Anyways, I need you to find someone…”

“Well you know Imma need a little more…”

“Y/N. You remember her right?”

“You mean the girl you tortured in school because you didn’t have the balls to tell her how you lurrrrrrrved her.”

“I see you wish to die today.”

“No, not today. So you wish for me to find your wayward love?”

“Yeah.”

“Mandi’s shop.” Hoseok cheerfully replied, as if this should be common knowledge.

“Oh yeah, great idea bring me some coffee please?”

“No, you idiot, Y/N works there. She is actually her partner” Hosoek irritatingly says matter of factly.

“The hell?! Why do you know this but I don’t?”

“Dude, seriously? You do know they were friends growing up and just because you made her run away by being a complete ass doesn’t mean they stopped being friends.”

“My best friend and my sister have been lying to me.”

“It’s not lying when you never asked. But Yoongi…you should let her go. It’s been a long time and I know you had feelings but with how you treated her–“

"She was here.” Yoongi grunted, running a hand over her face as he stood in her closet trying to think of what to wear. What says “I come in peace”? Maybe he could get Hoseok to dress up as Spock and talk to Y/N before he does.

“What? And you’re alive?”

“Yeah. We…um…she was gone this morning,” Yoongi sits down on her bed, running a hand through her hair.

"Oh…” and as realization hits, Hoseok intones sagely,” ...oh my god you’re fucking moron.”

“You know I can fire you.”

“Please bitch, I know all your deepest darkest secrets you ain’t gonna fire me.”

“Just…shit…what should I do?” Yoongi asks, finally letting go of her big bad boss act.

“Dude, I don’t know. You slept with her…maybe you should just…”

“I um…fucked up more than that…” He thinks about how you had felt, how he had felt...how absolutely perfect it had been for just one night, A flicker of fear strums through her heart at the thought that this was not salvageable at all.

“No. no way. Our friendship is over.” Hoseok cracks from the other side of the phone.

“Just help me okay?”

There was a long pause before he heard a heavy sigh, “Fine, but no games. She has a good thing going on and you-”

“I swear it's different this time!” Yoongi pleads.

“Whatever. I should warn you though.”

“Warn me about what?”

“Her brothers.”

“Namjoon and Jungkook? We were old friends, what about them?”

“You were old friends until they found out how you treated her. And bonus points-they are both cops now. Partners even, so you should probably pray for your soul.”

With a groan, Yoongi finally gets up and begins to get dressed putting Hoseok on speakerphone. “I’m so dead.”

“Yep,” affirms Hoseok, “So does that mean I can have your stuff?”

Rolling her eyes and thinking he really needs a new assistant, Yoongi growls out“See you at the office.” only to hear Hoseok laughing before he hangs up the phone.

Yoongi finishes getting dressed, and running a hand over her face as he contemplates this new information. You’d been right under her nose the entire time and everyone had kept it a secret. He guessed he deserved it though, he was a complete and utter ass to you. He also guesses it’s time to make it up to you and hopefully, you would forgive him and let him into your heart, where he belonged. After all, you’d always been in his.

2 months later

Yoongi stands outside her (former) sister’s shop watching as you serve your customers, and realizes sadly that it was the first time in a long time that he’d really ever seen you smile. He wanted that smile for himself and himself alone, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. When he had remodeled your former apartment, expanding it through the two vacant units on either side of you, you just got mad at him for evicting you, when he was just redoing the apartment and you claimed it was far too large for you by yourself now. But that was the point wasn't it? He was hoping that somehow you would just...come back to him on your own and he wouldn’t really have to put any work in. Yoongi realizes then that he is an absolute dumbass.

After all, nothing he’d done so far had managed to make you smile at him or hell just give him the time of day and he was beyond frustrated. Couldn’t you see how hard he was trying for you?

Mandi pokes her head out of the shop interrupting his train of thought,

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps at him.

“Wow, do you greet all your customers like this?”

“Yoongi. Listen. Whatever it this is about now isn’t–”

Realization hits for the second time that morning, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Mandi pauses, looking him up and down, “There’s nothing to tell if you already know.”

He could almost feel the metaphorical walls slamming down around him as Mandi went on guard. “Mandi!”

“No. Not about ther.”

“I’ve known for almost a month.”

“Then you should go know somewhere else.” Mandi stepped outside, becoming a most effective blockade. If someone was to ever wage war against his sister, his money, hell, his entire fortune would be on Mandi.

“Listen, you’re my brother and I love you and I know you know what you did wrong, and really it's sweet you want to make amends but …Yoongi, sometimes things…”

“I slept with her.”

“Do you want a trophy?” Mandi snapped, her fists clenched, before she shook her head, “you have five seconds or I’m opening ther door and I’m calling her brothers out here.”

“We didn’t use protection.”

“Well then I guess today you die you little fucking weasel.”

“I love her.”

That’s when he remembered his sister’s left hook and then the lights went out.

Mandi stomps into the store grabbing you by the arm and dragging you upstairs ignoring your protests, shoving you into the bedroom and giving you a look reserved for her son’s Taehyung and Jimin when they are acting up. “Stay.”

Mandi goes back downstairs and motions Namjoon and Kookie over, “Listen, I know you hate Min Yoongi with like the passion of 7 fiery suns but I need you to hold that rage in and help me get his ass inside.”

Namjoon was already up and out the door at the sound of Min Yoongi’s name, and seconds later was dragging a barely conscious Yoongi in by the collar. While Kookie held open the door, Namjoon made sure Yoongi purposely whacked his head on the door frame and when Mandi winced he gave her a look that clearly said “sorry not sorry” before dropping Yoongi on the shop floor like the sorry sack of shit he thought he was.

“I’m sorry folks,” Mandi announces, “due to my crazy family, the shop will be closing early.”

The patrons all scrambled out of the shop while Jungkook handcuffed Yoongi to a chair and dumped a cup of ice water on him.

Yoongi jerked back, fully awake now and met by 3 pairs of eyes. 3 very angry pairs of eyes. He shook his head and tried to move but found himself handcuffed to the chair and he gives Mandi a look that says “Really?”

“Kook uncuff him. Seriously. And you and Joon leave.”

“No.”

“Did I stutter?”

“Okay, but we get dibs if you decide to kill him.” Jungkook, grumbles as he undoes the handcuffs.

“I’m not going to kill him. Today.”

“Fine.”

Jungkook finishes unlocking the cuffs and Yoongi immediately rubs at his wrists and watches warily as Jungkook and Namjoon leaves the shop, rolling his eyes when Jungkook gives him the international sign for “I’m watching you” while Joon drew his thumb across his neck. They were dramatic as fuck, but then again he might just be dramatically fucked.

Mandi pulls up a chair and sits across from Yoongi and stares at him for several long moments until Yoongi breaks the silence, “Just say it.”

“Why?”

“It just happened like that.”

“Bullshit.”

Yoongi sighed, “I’ve grown up since then. I no longer want to pull her hair.”

“Clearly. And you didn’t just pull her hair, you did a lot worse.”

“Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

“I am fucking Switzerland.”

Yoongi couldn’t help the anger that swelled up and choked him, “Clearly not. You knew where she was all these years and you never said anything. This is why you never let me come to the shop then? You knew I was looking for her, that I wanted-”

“Of course,” interrupted Mandi.

“Why?”

“Because you are an idiot who doesn’t know how to communicate. Look at what happened--when you did find her, your first action was to take her home. Who fucking does that shit?”

“You’re right, I was. I was cruel and spiteful. Keyword: was.”

“Bullshit. Taking away her home wasn’t because you were being spiteful. You wanted what she had. That’s called envy. She left because she wanted to live, and the only way she could was to leave. You made it like this. I almost lost my friend. So of course I kept it a secret.” Mandi sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. “Look I know. I know what y

our mom and dad did. How they treated us. We were mere points on a checklist of creating a picture perfect family. But you had no right-”

“I was stupid. You think I don’t know? That I don’t regret it? I love her. I always have.”

“Actions-”

“Speak louder than words I know. I’m trying to fix that now!”

Mandi closes her eyes, debating her next few words "Can I trust you? That’s the-“ ”

“Yes. I swear I'll spend my life…”

“Doing what?” You interrupt, “Sorry, since you seem to be discussing me I couldn’t stay put,” you say to Mandi. “Yoongi I don’t want your money and if you are worried because we didn’t…,” you swallow before continuing with a brave face, “....I’ll be fine. but you really have to stop sending me presents. I don’t want them. Can’t you just stay…”

“Y/N I’m sorry. I was an ass.”

“Still an ass.” Mandi interrupts, “Look, you two clearly need to talk this out so I’m out. Come on Seokjin, let’s go see a movie.”

With that Seokjin and Mandi beat a hasty retreat leaving the two of you alone.

“Your jaw is swelling.” You say after noticing the blossoming bruise that marred his handsome face. Handsome? What the hell were you even thinking?

“Mandi hit me.”

“Why?”

“I told her what happened. She’s very protective of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…that night…I shouldn’t have that.”

“I let you. It wasn’t just you alone.”

“Please, just listen. I’m sorry. For everything. And I’m sorry for not saying that when we met again. It's just…”

“It's just..what?” You questioned, meeting his eyes.

“I don’t know. When I look at you I want you. You are so good and pure and you deserve the world. I wanted you to myself but I was scared…”

“Scared of?”

“You.”

“Me?” You scoff at the idea of anyone being afraid of you.

“Yeah,” Yoongi stood and walked over to you. “You had everything even though you had nothing. Brothers who worshiped you, a mother who did everything for you…what if I ruined that? What if my mother-”

“How would you ruin that?” You ask, finding patience from who knows where.

“I was messed up…and the older I got the worse…things got worse. You saw, you can’t pretend you didn’t. I took out my suffering on you because nothing good could possibly exist and you were just hiding your real nature. But you never retaliated. You kept reaching out to me over and over again. ”

“But I did retaliate.”

“By locking me out of my house after I took yours? Not really. I mean…I deserve far worse,” chucked Yoongi. He wanted so badly to touch you, to pull you into his arms and just...feel you.

You stare at Yoongi. This broken version of Yoongi with tears in his eyes. Could you trust him? You wanted to give him a chance.

“Let’s….go on a date.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, “What?”

“You like me right?”

“Well–I mean–I did when I was—I do”

“Take me on a date, final offer going in one–two..”

“Fine! I’ll take you on a damn date,” Yoongi smiles.

“No fancy shit tho. $100 limit.”

“I’ll take you on the best damn date of your life!”

“Good.”

Yoongi didn’t know why he was being snippy now, but as he left the shop he couldn’t help but do a little cheer when he got into his car. Hoseok rolled his eyes and politely ignored him.

Yoongi stood at the door of your apartment, and for the first time in his life he hesitated, hand poised to ring the doorbell, and then you swung open the door and suddenly the world stopped. You looked amazing. Your hair was curled, makeup accenting your eyes perfectly, wearing black skinny slacks, a hound’s-tooth patterned sweater over a white button down and pink heels. He took in the perfection that was you and thought, “She was made for me.”

And the fear was gone as he smiled at you and he took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah let me grab my purse,” you say as you try to let go of his hand to grab the bag on the chair beside your front door but he wouldn’t let go. You couldn’t help the blush that blossomed over your cheeks as he stepped inside and grabbed the bag for you and waited for you to lock up so you both could leave.

He pulled you along, never letting go, until he reached his car and opened the door. It was only enough time for him to run around and get the car moving before he was locking fingers with you again.

“What’s up with you?” You smirk.

“Just…making up for lost time.”

“What?”

“I just…I should have been doing this for years now.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “So…are you always this cheesy?”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “I mean…I’m not…no…,” Yoongi stuttered and then stopped, “I guess I am cheesy it's just…I can tell you I’m sorry but…”

“Actions speak louder than words?”

“I see you have met my sister,” he joked softly, “And we’re here.”

“A movie? Really?”

“I always had wished to take you…”

Yoongi’s eyes stared into yours, “Yoongi…” you say timidly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not her anymore you know? I grew up…you grew up…let’s leave it behind us and start fresh yeah?”

“What do you mean?”

You stick your hand out, “Hi, my name is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yoongi stared at you you’d suddenly sprouted a third eye on your nose before awkwardly taking your hand and shaking it, “Min Yoongi…the pleasure is all mine.”

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned expression, not knowing he was just in shock from receiving your smile. To him, your smile in that moment could have powered a thousand suns.

Yoongi was quiet but still took your hand and you entered the theater with a smile on your face, happy that things were getting better, that you could almost believe you had your first love back.

2 hours later.

“Yoongi, why are you pouting?” You ask as you take his hand.

“Look no matter how I look at it, it's just not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“Mandi. Seokjin. They have spent years with you…years that should have been with me.”

“I thought we were moving forward.”

“But.”

You sighed. “Look. You want to know the truth?”

Yoongi stopped and stared at you, “yes.”

“Okay then.” You face him, “You crushed me in every way possible. You were my world. I followed you everywhere. I trusted you, and you were always there and then you weren’t. The night we got stuck in the cave I gave you my faith—but it also is and was the moment I gave my whole heart to you, willingly, without any doubt. And the next day when we were found…you stomped on it. And you continued to stomp on it. I cried so many tears everyday because I hoped that one day my hero would come back. But he never did. He became a villain.” You couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, “And even through all that I still…” you sighed. “I can't do this Yoongi. I can't. I’m sorry, I was wrong to try.” You turned on your heel and ran away, ignoring him yelling after you, you just ran until you couldn’t hear him anymore.

And then you found the alcohol.

You sat at the outside bar drinking as you thought about the past two months. All the things you had done with Yoongi , and how disgusted you were with yourself for letting your old feelings come back so easily. You knew it wasn’t the right choice, but it was the one you wanted. You had decided to drown yourself in alcohol, and you were on your third bottle when the object of your conflicting emotions, sat down across from you.

“Y/N.”

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking!” Your giggle turns to a frown when you hear the heavy sigh come across from you, “Are you judging me? It’s not nice to judge you know! “

“Why are you drinking Y/N?”

“Because,” you leaned forward, whispering conspiratively, “I’ve been bad.”

“Bad? How so?”

You sigh dreamily, a wistful smile playing upon your lips, “There’s this guy…”

“There always is.”

“Shhh! This is my story!” You shout.

“Sorry.”

“Where was I?”

“Something about a guy…”

“SHHHHHH! So rude interrupting me! Anyways…I’m supposed to hate him but…” you thump your chest hard as tears prick your eyes, “But…”

“But what?”

“I can't…I remember him before…and the him that I remember…he’s still there…and all the warning alarms are going off and I’m so scared to love him but I…I think…”

“You think?”

You lay your head on the table, mumbling, “Think it’s too late…think I love him. Think it has always been too late for me. Even after all the bullshit…you see…he’s still here” You thump your chest hard and sigh as you feel the tears slide down your cheek to land on the table, “ I love him and I don’t want to…I didn’t mean too…”

“Mean to what?”

“To love him, but…”

“You do.”

“Yeah” you whisper softly.

“Yoongi…” you can feel the man smile, you don’t know how you know but you do, “why do I have to love you?”

“You love me?” He asks, the hope wrapped in fear in his voice twisting your heart even more than all the past crap that had happened. You wanted to let it go. You wanted to love him. You can only nod your head as your eyes slide close, and you struggle against the darkness when you hear him whisper, “I love you too Y/N…I’m just scared…I’m not good enough…I was such an ass…and I know you said to let it go…but God Y/N…I should have treated you like a princess…because the truth is…”

Those words cause you to sit up, eyes squinting hard as you try to make out his face, “Yoongi?”

“Yeah?”

You lean forward and his face comes into focus, a smile spreads on your face and you lean forward to press your lips to his, softly at first, and then he responds, a hand sliding up your arm to cup your neck as you express to him what you can’t say in words. This was so much better than petty arguments and revenge pranks.

You pull away, breathing heavy as you rest your forehead against his, “Yoongi,” you whimper, keeping your eyes firmly on the buttons of his shirt, scared to look up, scared to see the fear in his eyes. Does he not know? “Can I…can I be yours?“ You ask in a voice so quiet it is almost lost in the noise of the world that surrounds you.

"Can you forgive me?” The pain in his voice was sharp. “I forgive you.” You whisper into his mouth as you make promises with your lips.

He pulls away for a moment, and you lock eyes finally. “Then believe me when I say, I was always yours, and you were always mine.”

“I was?”

The amount of disbelief in your voice causes Yoongi to tear up as he pulls you into his arms, “Kitten?”

“Yeah,” you say as you rest your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

This time it was his turn to ask, “Am I yours?”

“You always were Yoongi. I was just waiting for you to remember where home was.”

Yoongi places the softest of kisses on each of your eyelids, and then he kisses away your tears and finally his mouth was on yours, and the kiss was full of yearning. “Y/N.”

“Yes?” You ask, sad he had pulled away.

“Don’t leave me again…I love you too.”

“Okay.”

#bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi scenarios #bts enemies to lovers #bts smut

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

Text

The Blade and The Crow

warnings: mentions of death

Immortals are painted so delicately high in stories. Each brush stroke gently and precisely placed, placed without flaw. Immortal's either see Mortal's as a soft malleable child, open and willing to learn, yet desperately in need of guidance. Or they see them as fools, not cautious enough with their limited time.

When the Angel Of Death saw Mortal's he saw them as pure Fools. Too stupid and naïve in the understanding of God's, and Immortals. What made him turn his nose up the most however was their lacking in interest. They didn't want to learn, or understand the unnatural order. Mortals shunned the forbidden knowledge, to Phil- someone who loved to learn, someone who soaked information up seamlessly, he couldn't understand their uninterest.

Philza was young however, he was still new to this... power. No matter how long Immortals live their is always a beginning. A start to their story, a single hushed word, maybe written, thought, or spoken, sometimes even screamed, whether gloriously or in sin. sometimes their beginnings aren't wrote or even spoke of, sometimes they are painted, mostly because words cannot begin to explain.

When Phil started becoming Devine, he honestly didn't think much about it, frankly he didn't even understand it was happening. He was a teen, young, a bit of a lady killer if you asked around, but entirely he was kind and quite generous. His parents focused on raising a kind son, the type any girl could bring hoe to her parents and be proud of. Truthfully, between his never ending manners and his strive for hard work, it was hard to not be proud of him, or at least acknowledge he was striving for the stars.

Phil's story started Hushed, soft, gentle even. Like a slow morning. The sun slowly leaving it's hidden spot. Shining and blossoming out to something much larger, sometimes more threatening. Just like that Sunrise, no matter how small and frail he was, by the end of eons Phil would become something more threatening, and terrifying. Some wouldn't even know he was born a child, for every story and legend taken down described him as a immortal elder who flew trough eons as a blood thirsty, torn man.

However, about his teens he started to notice his aging slowing down dramatically. His mother would always play it off as having a young baby face. The common thing any mother would tell her child. “Oh it’s just your youth showing, no need to worry”, “It’s just a baby face, your father had it too” all things he was told. He believed it too, after all, was he supposed to look into it?

Sadly this odd aging became more apparent with every new year. By Nineteen he roughly looked about fifteen, when he turned twenty, he similarly looked the same. Because of this oddity he found himself staying home, or keeping away from the public more and more, not wishing to be ridiculed or looked at as a medical mystery.

He tried to grow close to some at least, some girls still lingered to his kindness. That was until they looked like a older woman carrying a child around on her arm. After being left so many times, Phil couldn't help but draw back, and subconsciously shut himself down on seeking out a possible partner. After all, who wanted to bee seen with a child?

When he matured into his thirties, he moved into a cottage by himself. He lied to his mother about the reasoning, telling her he wanted to explore the world more, grow up and experience it all. He knew his father wouldn't need help around the house anymore so it was perfect timing for the excuse. However, deep down he knew he was only leaving because he didn't want the village people to see a thirty-year old looking like a nineteen year old.

After his departure he only came back for two things. His Father’s and his Mother’s Funeral. He would always kick himself in the future when he looked back on his mothers death. He couldn't stay through her whole service, not because of the tears he shed, but because of the lingering comments the villagers made. They didn't recognize Phil, thus they assumed he never showed. So instead of whispering saddened through's about her missing child, they down talked him. They cursed his “absence”, they wished Ill on him, they hoped he suffered for it.

When Phil thinks back on this, he always remembers this as the first time he felt something deep within him stir.

For every word, every curse... Every ill will...

He wished it back tenfold.

“Shame their boy didn't show, I thought he was so kind”

‘Shame you don't open your eyes’

“Don't you think he would at least show? I mean its a funeral, its not like he had anyone else.”

‘I don't see anyone at your funeral, not with how you keep both faces upturned’

“I hope he remembers missing his mothers death, I hope it stays with him forever”

‘rot in hell’

He knew most of his anger was from grief, he knew he shouldn't take it out on the others, it wasn't the right thing to do.

But that didn't stop him from doing it anyway.

He should have been about a hundred now. he was easily old, yet he looked no older than twenty. He couldn't explain it, but that didn't stop him from living, he still kept going day to day.

After a few more he left the pew, no longer waiting to hear what else they had to say about his absence.

After he hit three digit numbers, he started to change drastically...

He met a woman on his One hundred, and fiftieth birthday, and Oh would he always remember her. She never gave her name, yet Phil trusted her with his whole heart.

She came to him when he was out late hunting. The night was cold, the first snowfall hadn't been long ago, so as Phil prowled the woods his breath came out in puff’s, the cloud showing his shaky breath. At first he thought he was seeing things, shadows moving too swiftly for a pure animal. He would see one on his left, then swiftly from behind him, then to his right. it was enough to drive anyone insane at the thought.

Pushing aside his fear, he drew the sting of his bow back, assuming a black bear had taken interest into his loneliness, prowling alongside him, waiting to send him back to his mothers grave in bits. Phil was wise enough to know the situation of “You or Me, we both cant leave” So before the bear could strike he pulled the arrow back, tucking the nock against the corner of his lip, the fletching brushing his cheek in the process, giving contrast to the cold night. With the arrow ready, he waited for the sound of movement.

When he herd the wind pass by his ear in a swift breeze, he released a breath and turned, releasing the arrow from his grip, letting the arrow pierce the air, waiting for the sound of a hit.

But it didn't come.

Instead, when he turned to see his kill, he saw a kind woman looking down at him. She was tall, yet beautiful in every point, wings of gold glittered under the moonlight, acting like a natural halo behind her. Her face was hidden by her black veil, black curls kissing her cheeks as they fell over her shoulder. Not only was Phil stunned, but he was left speechless when he saw her holding his arrow, the arrow he shot in hopes to end animal.

“Well hello there little one”

#philza fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction #technoblade #Philza #TBaTC

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yanderelovebites · 4 years

Text

Warning: hinted DDLG, not too explicit but reader does show signs of a Little.

*This is part of a thirst book that is both Fluff and Smut. This is a fluff one with a soulmate reader from the tattoo AU. Some future ones will be connected to this.

It was a long power struggle but the villains came on top. Many heroes and heroes-in-training lost a chip. The chips were made so they could avoid their soulmate in the event their soulmate was a villain or any other type of criminal. Most heroes were executed if they didn't match up to a villain. Some that were in training were given a choice redemption based on their year and if they interacted at all with villains before. Then, there was the rest of the classes.

These children gathered were found to have been forced to, while in the school, have a temporary working chip as well. They took it out and yet again the villains checked. You were in the last class they checked. You were young so you knew if by chance you were one... they would be older than you. You trembled at the thought of some much older woman or man potentially having right over you... you were raised to believe if someone is a villain, they can't love and they will mistreat their match.

That's terrifying.

To be honest... you hope you bleed out, but it's been slow. It'll close only to reopen if people are too rough. And it was a sloppy job. You see, you were stabbed because you were the forced 'volunteer' of what would happen if any of you resisted. They said for being a such a 'good girl and helping' they'd bandage the stab wound.

You hear the door open and you and your classmates are picked up. You didn't fight it. You were only a general class so judgement wouldn't be too harsh after they realize none matched a villain. You all were put in a line alphabetically. You were no. 14. You shiver as you see them scan the soulmate tattoo on the class rep. They pulled her away to the right... she would be okay right? The left is where the... soulmates have been pulled. Over there are nurses forced to be there. It's terrifying... this whole situation. You can't really describe it...

As each person went ahead, not single before you went to the left nor were they moved forward to die by the leader in all this....

Tomura Shigaraki.

You trembled a bit as the last person before you was moved. You trembled partly in fear and partly in pain. It still hurt. The men picked you up like the last and put you on the scan. Unlike the last thirteen people, there was green flash once it scanned the back of your neck... your tattoo was a hand with spider lilies growing from the palm. You were picked up but... brought to the left..?

The left...!

You didn't see who it was. They only said the match would appear on top of the machine, but those being scanned can't see that. A nurse takes you and says she's just going to check you over because the villains were definitely rough with the others. You could only nod.

She takes your clothes off and gasps a little "W-Were you the 'example' dear?" You nod again and she tells you to lay back as she fixes this and phones the doctor. Things got hazy from there and at some point, you passed out sometime after the doctor came.

You woke again in cozy bedroom. You were on a soft, but firm, mattress with purple sheets and a black bed cover. Under it was a fluffy blanket and even more at the foot of the bed. You had pillows around you and a couple stuffies. The nurse was at your side and smiled "Nice to see you're awake dearie. Please don't move, we don't want you to reopen the wound or undo the stitches. I was checking on your monitor. I will get someone to bring in food, alright?"

You replied hoarsely "A-Alright, ma'am..." She scurried off so you can better look around, but only on your back. There's an empty cork board, a simple desk with what you can assume are notebooks and pencils. There's a stain-glass window that cant be open and you can somewhat see has bars on the other side.

The walls were a dark shade of purple and the curtains were also black like the bed cover. There were color changing lights around the ceiling and in the center of the ceiling appeared to be the main room light. There was a TV hooked to the wall with - Blue Ray and an Xbox set up. The TV was on a clothes dresser.

You waited a few more minutes and a young girl came in with eggs, toast and some juice. The helped you sit up so you wouldn't open the wound and they supervise the meal.

You get sleepy after and they help you go back to sleep. You unconsciously hugged one of the many stuffies. You loved stuffies... back with your horrible mom who only cared that you be in a dumb hero school, you had many on your bed.

You held it close and let your dreams take you. This happened repeatedly that you asked the nurse if they put stuff in your food. She said "Yes, h-he asked us to. It's to make sure you don't reopen the wound... I assure you it's just until your fully healed, then you won't need that anymore!" She nervously chuckled it off. You latched onto her sleeve.

"Ma'am, I never saw who was flashed on the machine as to who my... mate is. Do you know?" You asked her. She looks at you sadly... "Miss L/n, it's the very man responsible for our nation's hell. Tomura Shigaraki is your match," she said as you let go. She scurried away once again.

Tomura Shigaraki.

The man who broke Izuku Midoriya. (He's alive babies)

The man who disabled your mom's sperm donor... (daddy issues :3)

A man who can leave you literally in dust is your soulmate?

Someone who has killed thousands?

The man who did the executions?

The man who you felt stare at you and your peers like you're insignificant ants?

You could only hold the stuffies, now frightened once again of your unfortunate situation. The second nurse comes again and you eat swiftly again. Would you feel safe knowing the stuffies and Blankies and the pillows you hugged so close were his doing?

Heh.

The man from the security screen room wouldn't know yet. He always kept watch of you there since that day. It was maybe two weeks ago. You're his, you had no choice. He never had the choice either. He's yet to explicitly interact, afraid one slight action from either of you would destroy your fragile body. On one hand, he could get a quirk disabling room-they had one available-and force you to share with him, but that could lead to safety issues.

It would be best left as a room used when you both are ready for it.

He knew you'd enjoy the stuffies, they questioned your mother through threats. She's expected to release some of your materialistic treasures. Anything significant. He, quite amused, enjoyed watching you ask finally who you were stuck with, although didn't like the nurse's tone. You seemed scared, but Tomura knew it would be that way. It's why he spoils you. He's bound to be shitty so you might as well get something good, right?

He really didn't want to admit he liked the idea of being able to care about someone. To be able to love them without any other reason than it's what he craves.

He hopes he won't have to discipline you too much once you're fully healed...

—

Eventually, it comes to the nearing point of your healing process, but also the fact you've grown an immunity. The drug only left you unable to move now. It was quiet. No sound and unable to open your eyes... it's like a horror film. At least you know no one would harm you... but it still scared you.

After a good while, you hear a door creak open. You hear unfamiliar footsteps. These ones are more... stealthy. The nurse's were hard and left a tapping sound once it met the floor. This seemed quiet, as if he didn't want anyone to know he or she is there. You feel the bed sink in and wish you could open your eyes.

They stroke your head with only two fingers. It felt... calming. Your body accepted his touch like second nature. You hear a rough voice say "So innocent..." They gently move hair away from your face. "I wonder how you're fairing inside that little head of yours, being confined to a bed, no freedom besides what little conversation that nurse has with you... I'd imagine its boring," the voice said to your immobile body. After some thought... the voice sounded somewhat familiar.

He strokes your head again with two fingers. "You like these don't you... the stuffed animals. You cling to them like a small child, it adorable. I'm glad you like them so much... means I didn't waste time picking a few for you after that long day of going through your entire school," the voice said. His last sentence was all you needed to know who this was without any doubt. Tomura.

"You're mine regardless," he said, twirling a piece of your hair with his index finger, you assume anyway. "When you heal, I'll make sure you understand what that means," he mutters, almost too low for you to catch. It was creepy, but comforting, knowing he's talking to you while unconscious-or at least he thinks you are.

It becomes quiet, the only thing you hear is the clock, your breathing, his too, and the fabric static from your pillow. Yet, the warmth of his fingers never stops moving. They pet you almost robotically until you hear a beep from a watch. He sighs. "I'll be back tomorrow, awake or not..." he said. You blushed in your sleep as you felt chapped lips kiss your forehead, but then they leave along with your soulmate. He's gone with a simple thud of the door closing...

All while you long for his warmth again.

#yandere #yandere bnha #yandere x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha #yandere boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #yandere shigararaki x reader #yandere tomura x reader #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura #tomura shigaraki #Tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #fluff

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

You Can Make It Up To Me

Ok sorry if its too late or its already been done just thought id ask anyway, for the 1000 followers celebration why not throw it back to the early days, what about a sequel to "I'll make it up to you" based on another time rog comes home after being away for a while? Maybe reader cant keep to her promise this time? 😊 have been hooked on your writing since I read that fic!! ❤

I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), dom!Rog, sub!Reader, edging and denial, chastity belt, oral sex (male receiving), facial, mentions of spanking though it doesn’t really feature, mentions of cockwarming though it doesn’t really feature either, it’s really just a fuckload of edging lmao

Words: 9,307

A/N: Listen, ya’ll should know by now I have a denial kink. You suggest a fic with edging and i fucking run with it.

This was another request from my 1000 followers celebration roughly a year ago. Apologies to the person who requested it for taking so long, I hope you’re still around and you see this!

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

You’d thought edging for a week was hard. Oh how wrong you’d been. A week was a piece of fucking cake compared to the two months you’d been asked to endure this time. Stupid Roger. Stupid you. You’d been a fool to agree to the edging challenge again. You let Roger sweet talk you and convince you it’d be fun and hot and maybe he was a little bit right. Maybe you were turned on just from the suggestion of being edged for an extended period of time. He knew that and he used it against you as he cooed about how much he loved seeing you desperate and how good it had been last time he’d been away and how much fun you’d had playing with it all those times since, but they’d all been so short and wouldn’t it be fun to go for longer. And that was all very true, but you’d still been an idiot to agree to it. Two months! What had you been thinking? You supposed it could be worse. They could have been doing the whole tour in one hit, leaving you with much longer to get through. But that was by the by really. You’d never have lasted longer. You hadn’t even lasted the two months you’d agreed to. Roughly half a month from Roger’s return and you’d fucked up. Gone over the edge without meaning to. And he was going to call at the previously agreed upon check in time and you’d have to tell him and then be punished when he got home. Maybe you could distract him, get him talking about the tour and stuff. Technically you were meant to save all the chatting for the end of the week when he could call earlier and spend longer on the phone but maybe he’d be so homesick he’d forget about the rules you’d agreed on. Or maybe you could just lie about it and get back into your edging routine and still be the same drippy mess he expected to find waiting for him on his return. Ten minutes until he was supposed to call. You had to make your mind up now.

“Love?” “Hi Rog,” You were still apprehensive about the call but the weary drawl in his voice softened your worry, “you sound tired.” “Only just got back to the hotel, how’s my girl?” “Good, how are you? How’s the tour going?” “Love, you know this isn’t a social call, it’s a check in.” Damn. So much for distracting him. “Sorry, I just miss you.” “I miss you too Y/N.” “So let’s just talk for a minute.” A feeble last ditch effort really. “We can talk. About how your edging is going. Tell me what my slut’s been up to.” Double damn. “I’ve been edging Sir,” “Good. How many times today?” “Six.” “Only six?” “I, uh, I got caught up doing o-other things and, um, didn’t have as much time today,” you hoped he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating. “Is that so? This from the same slut who told me about how she’d been so desperate while driving the two minutes to the supermarket that she’d pulled over halfway to knock one out.” His weariness seemed to evaporate with every word, “What were you doing that was so distracting?” “I- um, it was, um,” He let you stutter and sweat a little before he cut you off, “I’m starting to think you weren’t too preoccupied. I’m starting to think you disobeyed me.” “It was an accident,” you sighed, “I was edging and I slipped up and came. I’m sorry.” “Oh, love, that’s okay. Mistakes happen. And I know we’ve never done it for this long before and it must be so hard to keep stopping.” “It’s so hard!” you half laughed, relieved at his reaction. “I know. You’ve done so well.” “Thank you,” “But you know I will have to punish you when I get home right,” “Sir?” “Not because you slipped over the edge, that I understand completely. But you tried to hide it from me. So you’ll have to make it up to me.” “Yes Sir. How?” “I’m not sure yet. Have you edged much since you went over?” “No, I haven’t touched myself at all. I wasn’t sure I could start again and keep up with it.” “That’s okay. You did such a good job getting this far so we’re not going to worry about edging any more for these last…how many? I think ten days of the tour, whatever. You can have as many orgasms as you want. But I want you to keep count for me okay?” “Okay, yeah, I can do that.” “Yeah? That’s my girl. Why don’t you run grab your vibrator and let me hear you have one now,” “Now?” “I need something to wank to if I’m going to get to sleep any time soon.” “Right, give me two minutes to grab it.” “Take your time, love.”

You hurried to the bedroom to pull open the draw where you kept your toys, not wanting to keep Roger waiting longer than you had to. Your fingers slipped a little as you quickly plugged it into the wall and positioned yourself, picking the phone up and pressing it back to your ear. “Okay, I got it,” “Let me hear it,” You turned it on for a couple of seconds. “Good girl. Now, what are you wearing?” Despite how worn out he must have felt Roger took his time. He made you describe the underwear you wore and told you how he wanted you to touch yourself over your knickers, made you tease yourself while he listened. He told you where to put the vibrator and on which setting and for how long. And you followed every instruction as best you could. You could feel the weeks of edging like every unachieved orgasm was gathered in the pit of your stomach. They made you ache for release. You told Roger as much, less eloquently, begging and whining rather than full sentences. There was a fear he’d lied about letting you cum or that at the very least he was going to make you wait for it. But he didn’t. All you had to say was please Sir and he told you to let go. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Relief washed through every inch of you as your pleasure cracked moans subsided. But he wasn’t finished, and he wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He gave you half a minute to catch your breath and thank him and then he told you to put the vibrator back against your clit. When you whined about being sensitive, he mocked you. His poor pathetic slut who was so worked up she just had to have an orgasm. “But I haven’t had mine and I told you I wanted to listen to you while I got off.” You came again as his grunts of release echoed down the phone line and he let you stop. But he was gentle as you caught your breath, soft words of praise making you feel warm and treasured. He made sure you were okay, reminding you to drink some water and get some rest, before he wished you goodnight, the tiredness returned to his voice, stronger than ever. But his parting reminder to keep count and expect his call the next night sent a shiver down your spine.

Over the six and a half weeks since Roger had left you’d grown accustomed to X-rated dreams. Most nights ended with an edge or two and most mornings began the same way so it was no wonder your dreams quickly picked up the theme and ran with it. In them Roger returned early to surprise you and fuck your brains out. Or else he took you on tour and dressed you in skanky clothes that left nothing to the imagination so he could use you whenever he needed. Sometimes he’d share you with rooms full of men you didn’t recognise but understood worked with the band. Once or twice you’d woken up on the verge of release and cursed dream Roger for being so arousingly evil. You hadn’t expected to have one of those dreams after Roger overstimulated you on the phone but you woke the next morning grinding against the bunched up sheets, with a vague memory of Roger plowing you over his drumkit while a crowd of fans cheered him on. It wasn’t until you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes that you realised it couldn’t have been real. And it was followed by a moment of panic that you’d gone over the edge in your sleep before you remembered everything. The recollection brought a smile to your face as your fingers slipped between your legs. Still a little sore but you could avoid your clit, focus on trying to imitate the way Roger could finger fuck you to orgasm. You were laughing as you came, blissed out on just the notion of being allowed an orgasm. And not just one, as many as you wanted. It was tempting to take another just because you could but instead you forced yourself to get out of bed and start your morning routine. Of course you had to make some adjustments. You’d taken to edging in the shower each evening but instead you allowed yourself the luxury of a bath, coming with the tap gushing directly into your clit. And instead of mindlessly edging while you spread out on the couch and read, you let yourself get off to the erotic novel you were halfway through. It was incredible, even without Roger there to help. The tingle you’d get right before it hit, the one that used to make you pull your hand away. And then the rush of the actual release that made your whole body tense up before relaxing completely. You’d grown so accustomed to edging, gotten so used to the constantly building high that never ended. Actually being able to finish was like a drug and you kept going back for another hit. It was five times when Roger called though he made you do a sixth, once again explaining what he wanted, asking you how it felt. You didn’t complain, didn’t even consider it.

It was the same most days though the number of orgasms you got out declined as Roger got closer to coming home. You were guaranteed one with every call he made to check in on how you were going, but more often than not it ended up being two or three. And he’d always ask for how many you’d had that day and then your total number of orgasms. Whenever you gave him the new numbers you could hear the scratch of a pen as he wrote it down. The night before he returned you reached thirty-nine. “Thirty-nine?” Roger let out a whistle that made you chuckle. “You wanna hear one more? Make it an even forty?” “No,” “Oh, really?” “It’s hilarious how disappointed you sound. But I think I’d like to give you number forty myself, in person.” “I suppose I can wait for that,” “Not long to go,” “You gonna miss touring?” “Yeah, a bit. But I’m gonna be even happier being back home with you.” “Getting to use your slut more like,” He let out a soft, breathy laugh, “There’s that, but also just getting to sleep in the same bed as you sounds so good right now. And your tea. I haven’t had a decent cup since I left.”

You held off on the last orgasm, looking forward to one at Roger’s hands and not just his voice. A little hint of denial to round out the separation. A nice way to bookend the experience, even if you hadn’t managed to last the whole time. But your days of free flowing orgasms meant that his return wasn’t like last time, when you’d be so desperate for release you’d tried to jump him on the front steps. You could wait, let him get settled first. He’d probably want to shower, maybe eat something better than the plane food, maybe sleep off some of the travel, before sex even crossed his mind. Or rather, because it was Roger you were talking about, he was probably thinking about sex already but he’d want to make sure it was good for both of you even if that meant waiting a day or two. So you did what you could to make his return more comfortable, making sure the kettle was on when he arrived, calling out from the kitchen when you heard the door open. He greeted you with a tight hug and a soft kiss and followed it with a contented sigh as you handed him his favourite tea cup and led him out to the couch. He pulled you in close, entwined your fingers again as you chatted and relaxed. You figured that’s how the rest of the afternoon and evening would be, that you’d order take out and stay on the couch until you were ready to shuffle off to bed. So, when Roger’s hand, palm still warm where he’d been holding the teacup, landed on your thigh and began to creep higher, you were a little surprised. “Remind me what your total number of orgasms was again,” “Uh, thirty-nine Sir. But we don’-” “So you didn’t sneak in one more after I hung up?” “No, I wanted to wait for you.” “I’m here now,” “You sure you don’t want to rest? I can wait a bit longer,” “Love, I’ve spent the last however long sitting on a plane, think I’d like to do something a little more…physical.” You couldn’t stop from giggling, couldn’t deny your excitement at the turn the afternoon was taking. “Is that a yes?” “Yes, definitely.” “Then why don’t you go to the bedroom and strip. I’ll finish this perfect cuppa and meet you there. We could do your punishment too, if you’re up for it.” “What’s the punishment going to be, spanking or something?” “Or something,” he said with a laugh. “Okay, yeah, let’s get it over with then,” Roger just laughed again as he leaned forward to kiss you and then sent you on your way.

“Good girl,” he cooed as he entered the room and saw you kneeling on the bed, your clothes scattered around the room, “You wanna know what your punishment is?” “Please,” “Well, because you tried to get away with cumming without permission, I’m going to edge you again. I think one for every orgasm you had sounds fair, don’t you?” “What? But…” “But what, love? You didn’t think I was going to give you a little spank and then forget about it, did you? I can’t have my slut thinking it’s okay to lie to me.” “But you said I could have those orgasms,” “I know. They were a reward for trying so hard to hold off for me. I’m not punishing you for accidentally going over the edge,” he stepped towards you as he spoke, reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your skin softly, “Sorry, I should have been clearer when I left that I wasn’t going to be upset if you didn’t last. Two months is a very long time and it’s hard to keep edging when you’re on your own, especially if you’ve never gone that long before. All I wanted was for you to try and you tried so hard and did so well. I couldn’t be prouder. But then when you did go over, you tried to keep it from me and that’s not on. I expect you to tell me when something like that happens. Otherwise what’s the point in agreeing to all this submissive stuff?” “Sorry, Sir, I know I should have told you,” “Thank you but you’re not getting out of it so easily. Lie back for me,” With a deep breath you did as he asked, shifting against the mattress to get comfortable. “Remind me what your safe word is,” “Red, Sir,” “Good, don’t be afraid to use it if you need to.” You nodded as you watched him walk to the cupboard, your hands already rising over your head in anticipation. He chuckled when he saw you waiting, “so you agree then, I need to tie you down.” “Thirty-nine’s a lot, I won’t be able to stay still,” “Of course you won’t, you’re a needy whore who likes to cum more than’s good for you. Spread your legs for me too, I’m going to tie your ankles.” You did as you were told, earning another chuckle from Roger as he took one wrist and tied it to the corner of the bed frame.

He made you wait there, on display and unable to move, spread eagle on the bed, as he stripped down to his briefs and then stood over you, looking you up and down as if deciding how best to torture you. “Already a little wet,” he said softly, fingers brushing over your pussy. You stayed quiet, worrying at your lip. “I said,” he slapped your thigh and made you jolt, “Already. A little. Wet.” “I’ve been thinking about this since your last call, Sir.” Another slap, this one directly on your pussy, “Hmmm, thirty-nine orgasms in ten days and you’re already asking for more? Such a good slut for me. I’d have loved to see what kind of a mess you were by the time you accidentally came.” You whined as his fingers teased your entrance but he ignored you and kept talking. “I’ll do my best to get you dripping again now but I think I might need to give you a hand getting started, huh,” his fingers left you as he moved to the draws and pulled out a small tube of lubricant. He spread a dollop over two digits before slipping them inside you easily. Instinctively your hips rose to meet him, encouraging his fingers to sink deeper into you. “Maybe I’ll give you a few weeks break and then we might try again, see if you can’t go the whole two months while I’m here. I’ll help you be a good girl, keep you from going over. And then we can see just how drippy you get. I imagine you won’t be able to wear knickers for more than an hour before they’re soaked through. But it’ll make you easy to use. A self-lubricating little toy for me to play with. So desperate and needy.” He grinned as he stretched you out, using his other thumb to collect some of your rapidly pooling arousal and spreading it over your clit, paying close attention to how you jerked in your restraints, watching for any sign of the release you weren’t allowed, “You like the sound of that?” “Y-yes, Sir,” “Thought you would. I definitely do.” He shifted the position of his fingers seamlessly, almost second nature. “Fuck, close, ‘m close,” He pulled both hands away from you, smoothing them over your thighs, “Thank you for telling me.” The familiar disappointment of a subsiding orgasm made you sigh but otherwise you kept quiet, not wanting Roger to hear you complain after just one edge. The first of many. Roger waited thirty seconds before he started in on you again, enough time for the orgasm to completely disappear so he could slowly rebuild the pleasure to the same point before he pulled his hands away again. There was another half minute pause before he repositioned his fingers where you so badly wanted them to be and began building you up once more. “What a pitiful little whine that was. And we’re only just getting started, love.” Roger stilled his fingers as he laughed again. “Fuck,” “Maybe. If you’re lucky. But for now,” he curled his fingers inside you, watching every reaction closely as he pumped them into you, stilling as you neared the edge again. He didn’t remove them though, just held them in you as you calmed so he could begin again as soon as you’d settled. “That’s three done, thirty-six to go,” You groaned but nodded your acceptance. Roger played you as well as he would any of his instruments, keeping you right at the edge as you jerked and jolted in your restraints, desperately trying to get just a little more, one more thrust, one more stroke, anything to finally feed the craving. It was blissful torture. But it was so much better with him physically there. Edging for him on your own was fine but nothing beat the way it felt to have him do it for you. The pure submission, the total lack of control. He owned your orgasms. You willingly gave them to him and now he owned them, controlled them.

Roger enjoyed it as much as you did, the evidence becoming clearer with every pleading whine you gave him, though you were too distracted to notice. It only became obvious to you how turned on he was when he got up to take his underwear off and your eyes fell to his erect cock. He settled himself back between your legs and tapped the head of his dick against your sensitive clit. “What d’you think, slut? Should I fuck you now?” “Please,” “Awww you really want it don’t you?” “Yes, yes Sir, I really want it,” “My good little whore likes Sir’s cock, doesn’t she?” “Yeah,” “Especially in her cunt,” “Yeah,” “Yeah. But we have a problem.” Roger shuffled over you, straddling your hips, “See, it’s been a while.” “Months, Sir,” Roger chuckled, “Exactly, months. And I just worry that I’m going to enjoy being in your cunt again so much that I forget to edge you. And I don’t want that. Not after you’ve been so good for me.” “It’s okay Sir, you can fuck me. I promise I’ll be good,” “I know you would try to be good, but accidents could happen and I’m not ready to let you cum yet, even accidentally. What kind of a punishment would that be? So, instead, I’m going to use another hole I’ve missed, okay?” You agreed, though really it didn’t feel like you had many other options besides taking it or safe-wording and you definitely weren’t ready for things to end. “Good girl,” Roger cooed, leaning forward to kiss you softly before he repositioned himself. You giggled as he somewhat clumsily turned around, but the laughter died as he moved to kneel over your face instead. “Sir?” Roger wrapped his hand around his cock, “Yes, slut?” “Can I have my hands please?” “I think you can manage without them,” Roger said, “But how about this?” He leaned forward to release the ties around your ankles before settling back, his bollocks resting against your lips. He seemed to be waiting so you opened your mouth, laving your saliva over them with your tongue. “Good girl,” Roger hummed as you sucked one testicle into your mouth, a small part of you hoping that if you did enough, he’d be lenient and reduce your punishment. “If it get’s too much, stamp your foot okay?” You raised your legs so your feet were flat on the bed and stamped one to show you understood. “Good girl,” Roger said, pressing a kiss to your knee before he readjusted his position, letting his cock find your mouth.

At first Roger contented himself with rocking slowly, letting you grow comfortable with the position. You had no control over how deep he pressed into you or how often but he kept his movement measured and careful, making sure he wasn’t overwhelming you, and you kept up as best you could, running your tongue along his length and sucking on his head. It got harder when he leaned forward and attached his lips to your cunt. The distraction of being edged with his tongue made you lose focus as you bucked your hips in a weak attempt to get more pleasure. Which meant you were taken by surprise when he suddenly thrust into your mouth, pushing himself into your throat. You wished you had your hands so you could grab his arse or jerk him off, but you made do as best you could, eyes watering as you moaned and he gave another sharp thrust. As he got closer to release he slid deeper into your throat, unable to control himself as easily while he was concentrating on edging you again and again. Each time he’d tell you how many edges he’d given you but you stopped listening. Between the jolts of pleasure from his tongue licking along your slit and the weight of his body on yours and the strain on your jaw as you kept your mouth open for him and the dizzying gasps of air you sucked in as he remembered himself and pulled out of you before sinking back in just as deep, everything else seemed fuzzy and distant. Your hands grasped at thin air in an attempt to break loose and touch him and your hips rose to meet him until he held them down. You moaned around his cock and whined with each new edge which only seemed to spur him on. At some point, after you weren’t sure how many, Roger decided he’d had enough of edging you like that and sat up a bit higher on his knees. He gave you a brief warning and let you take a few extra breaths before he fucked your mouth for real, unrelentingly using you for his own pleasure. You knew he was getting closer by the way he was grunting and the small twitches in his cock and you tried to prepare yourself for a mouthful of spunk, tried to ready yourself for how it would feel when he came on your tongue. But then he stopped and pulled out of you entirely. You were surprised by his sudden disappearance as he swung his leg back over you and got off the bed. Surely he wasn’t going to edge himself along with you? Surely he was going to use his release as another way to torment you, telling you how good it felt and mocking you for wanting the same. It was hard not to feel a little disappointed too. Especially when you could see how hard he was, his flushed tip proof of how close he’d been. “Sir?” you croaked out, voice scratchy and throat sore. Roger ignored you, as he walked back to the end of the bed, wiping his mouth and chin. “Sir, didn’t you want to finish?” “Awww, did the whore want my cum that bad? Don’t worry slut, you’ll get it, just not to taste. I’m going to put this load where it belongs. In my cunt.” You gasped as Roger pressed the tip of his cock into your heat, bracing yourself for the rough fuck he was sure to give you. But there was no thrusting, no pushing deeper. He held his tip inside you as his hand slid up and down his shaft, pulling himself over the edge with a grunt.

You were left squirming and aching to be filled, to feel him inside you properly, as he left the bed again and moved towards the cupboard. A combination of your juices and his dripping onto the sheets. You knew what was coming but that made it all the worse. “Do you remember how many I said you had left?” he asked as he plugged the wand vibrator in and gave it a test pulse. “No Sir,” “No? You really should, I said it only a few minutes ago,” “I don’t know Sir,” “Well it’s a good thing I know then. Otherwise we might have had to start all over again and kept better count.” You trembled at the idea, part terrified of it happening, part wanting it to. “You only have to last 5 more. Not very many, is it?” “No Sir. I can do five,” “I know you can. Because you’re such a good girl for me. My good girl. You ready?” “Yes,” you swallowed thickly and took a steadying breath waiting for the buzz of the vibrator to start again. Roger made you wait a little, building the anticipation and the tension as he refrained from doing what you expected. He let the soft head of the toy rest against your clit, laughing when you jolted at the contact. And only once you’d stilled did he turn it on, leaving it on the lowest setting. Instinctively you tried to move your still unbound legs, but Roger gave you a slap to your thigh and warned you to behave or else he’d tie you down again and give you extra edges. You whimpered a small, “Yes Sir,” as you did your best to keep still though it got harder with each edge. Roger was careful to pull the machine away as soon as he saw signs of your impending orgasm, never letting you get too close lest his reflexes be too slow. He didn’t want any accidents to happen now, not after he’d been edging you for so long. He counted down each one, giving you ample breaks between to calm yourself again. When you finally heard him turn off the vibrator and say you were done you cried grateful tears. He untied your wrists and pulled you into his arms, soothing you with soft words of praise and gentle touches.

“How do you feel?” He asked softly once you’d sufficiently calmed, leaning back and placing his hand on your cheek as he studied your face. “Bit sore. Really want to cum. But good.” “Yeah? You’re okay?” “Yeah I’m okay. Might need a few minutes before I can do more though. The fortieth orgasm I mean.” “That’s alright. In fact, it’s perfect because I’ve got a surprise for you.” “A surprise?” “Wait here, I’ll grab it from my suitcase,” You nodded, intrigued, and leaned against the bedhead to wait, letting your eyes close for a moment as he left the room. Roger returned and handed you a glass of water and box tied off with ribbon. You were definitely curious now, the box larger than you’d been expecting. You pulled at the bow with one hand as you drank with the other, letting Roger lift the lid from the box. You didn’t understand what you were seeing until Roger explained. “It’s a chastity belt,” You almost did a spit take. “I saw it while we were exploring the shops of one of the towns we were in and I thought it might be fun to try it out, if you’re interested.” You placed the cup down and reached into the box to pick up the metal device, “Looks a bit medieval, doesn’t it,” Roger chuckled and agreed, “We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But while I was edging you I thought maybe it would be fun to make you wait a few extra days,” “You want me to wear it now?” “Only if you want to. If I’m being honest, I hadn’t planned to show you today. I was going to save it for after the rest of the tour, but you know how impatient I can be,” he laughed, his hand falling to your rub softly over your knee, “If you’d prefer to cum now I will very happily make that happen. More than once. But if you did want to test it out I’d also be into that.” “How would it work?” “Well, um, you’d wear it all day, when you’re at home and when you go out. The guy who sold it said it’s very discreet and will go under most clothes without showing. You have to take it off once a day to clean it so I was thinking that you could wear it all day and take it off at night when you have your shower. That way it can be cleaned and dry out over night and you wouldn’t have to worry about it not being comfortable to sleep in.” “And um, how would, uhhhh, bathroom stuff work with it?” “Well, there’s a slit at the front that can be opened so you can pee but isn’t it kind of hot if you have to ask me to unlock it every time you have to go to the bathroom?” “I hate to admit it but yeah it is,” you laughed. “I could also unlock it for other reasons. Maybe if I really really wanted to fuck you.” You shifted excitedly. It had been too long since you’d had Roger properly, and especially after his little teasing stunt just before, but you tried to sound more casual as you said, “That’d be fun,” “Think I’m probably more likely to use your mouth though. So much less hassle.” “It’s kinda unfair that you promised me number forty and now you’re not going to pay up,” “I’ll give you forty and forty-one and forty-two and as many more as you can handle. Right now if you want. Or after a few days of having your cunt locked away.” You stomach clenched at the thought, “How long were you thinking?” “I don’t know. The part of me that likes symmetry says ten days since that’s how many days of tour were left when you stopped edging. But really anything you want is okay with me. If you tried it for a day and decided it wasn’t for you that would be completely fine. And, like I said, if you don’t want to do it right away we don’t have to.” “I think I want to. Maybe just a day to start, see how it goes. If I want another day I’ll let you know.” “Really?” You laughed at how excited Roger seemed, “Yes, really.” “I fucking love you,” “I am very loveable,” Roger laughed and pulled you into a kiss.

He joined you in the shower, helping you wash off the sweat and other fluids left from the torture you’d just been through. You took turns washing each other’s hair as you relaxed together, letting the hot water sooth any aches you felt. But there was a layer of excitement too and a few nerves at the prospect of wearing the chastity belt. Once you were thoroughly cleaned and dried, Roger helped lock the belt into place before you both got dressed. It was an odd sensation but thrilling too. It made you hyper aware of your own desperation. Every time you moved, sat down, you were reminded of how impossible it would be to touch yourself or get any sort of release. You only wore it for a few hours that first day, asking Roger to unlock it when you got up to change into your pyjamas. Together you worked out how best to clean it and hung it up ready for the next day. Roger kissed you good morning when you woke and asked if you wanted to try a full day of it. You agreed and, after visiting the bathroom, let him once again fasten the belt into place. It was even more thrilling the second time. In part because you had a better idea of how it operated, how it felt to wear it, but also largely due to wearing it out of the house. Roger decided to take you out for an early lunch, grinning cheekily as he made the suggestion. He knew full well you’d spend every minute of the excursion with your mind on the belt, wondering if anyone could tell you were wearing it. He was right. But it only made you wetter. Once you were home Roger checked in with you, asking how it was going and if you were still interested in wearing it. “It’s good. Still feels a bit weird but not what I'd call uncomfortable. It’s just very obvious to me that it’s there. But fuck I’m horny,” Roger laughed, “that makes two of us. I swear I’ve been half hard since I put it on you. Was even worse when you asked me to unlock it so you could pee.” “Jeeze Rog. I’ve been edged and denied, what’s your excuse?” “Shut up, there’s just something super hot about me holding the key to your cunt,” You chuckled, leaned towards him and gave him the most sultry look you could muster, “You know you could use that key whenever you want.” “Maybe later, love. Right now I really should unpack my bags, do some laundry.” “But that can be done any time,” “So can you,” Roger laughed, leaving you with a kiss to the temple. That night, after you’d taken the belt off and cleaned it, Roger edged you again, kissing you as his fingers explored your slit and your hand pumped over his cock.

On the third day Roger disappeared into the back yard with a guitar. A question about the grocery shopping list sent you seeking him, and you found him sitting on a chair under the shade of a large tree, plucking at the strings. It was almost a shame to interrupt what seemed like such a serene moment. He spotted you though and waved you over, pulling you onto his lap. His fingers moved to the front of you shorts, seemingly automatically, but he stopped and chuckled when he met the firm resistance of the belt. “Oops,” “Forgot did you? Lucky,” “You're not enjoying it anymore?” “No, no, I am, but I’m also getting really frustrated,” “Yeah?” “There is literally no way to relieve any pressure when I’m wearing it and you keep edging me before bed and honestly I want you to fuck me so bad like I just feel kind of empty all the time cause it’s been so fucking long since I had more than your fingers in there and I'm used to just being able to pull out a toy and make myself feel better even if I’m edging. It’s fucking torture not being able to touch anything and not being even a little bit in control of my own pleasure.” “Do you want to stop?” “Hell no. I just want you to fuck me,” “Oh really?” he chuckled, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised my slut likes being completely denied,” You recognised his tone, the one that meant he was pent up and wanted to take it out on you. Hope that he’d do it, that he’d unlock you and give you a good hard pounding, made you sit up a little straighter. Your head was buzzing with ideas of Roger filling you with cum and locking you away again, but they were interrupted rather rudely by Roger growling at you to kneel. You nodded, a little disappointed but more just happy to get some sort of attention, and settled on your knees, intently watching as he stood and unbuckled his belt, the jangling noise of the metal sending another wave of desire through you. He’d barely managed to push his pants down just low enough to get his cock out when you reached out to stroke him, mind so thoroughly focused on him that you barely noticed the itchy tickle of the grass under you. But before you could he slapped your hand away. “You’re here to watch. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out. C’mon needy whore, I don’t have all day.” You nodded as you did what he said. Roger waited, watching you for any signs of impatience but soon rewarded you with his fingers, two of them sliding towards the back of your throat until you gagged. He pulled back and then did the same thing again, slowly beginning to fuck your mouth with just his digits. You could feel saliva pooling on your tongue, his fingers gliding through it until they were slick and shiny. That’s when he moved his hand to his dick, slowly spreading your drool over his shaft. You whimpered as he brushed his thumb over his tip, letting out a small hiss at the contact. You leaned forward slightly, intending to lick his length and replace his hand but he stopped you, his free hand holding you in place, and you realised what was happening. He knew you wanted to be fucked and he was going to deny you that as well as your orgasms. He wasn’t even going to fuck your mouth. All you could do was sit there, whining and watching as he jerked himself off. Every so often he dipped his fingers back into your mouth, either to gather more of your spit or just to hear you gag, you weren’t sure which. A small part of you hoped he’d just push you down onto his cock but as his hand sped up, expertly pleasuring himself, that hope withered away. He was close. You could see it in the way his smooth strokes stuttered, hear it in his groans. If you’d looked up you probably would have found flushed cheeks, and lust blown eyes, but you couldn’t drag your eyes from his cock, right in front of you, pulsing as he neared his release. And then he came with a guttural moan. You jolted as the first drops hit your cheek, but he was already holding you in place, making sure you stayed still until he was done.

Roger looked down at you, the fist still milking his cock slowing down once more, though he didn’t release himself. You swallowed thickly, shifting on your knees as the temptation to wipe your face and get up rose. “Stay there, slut,” Roger said softly, reading your mind, “you look so good on your knees. Just a toy I use to masturbate with.” You nodded, agreeing, your eyes already drifting back down to his dick. “You want it don’t you? Wish I’d just use you properly,” You nodded again. “If you’re very good I might...” he lay his cock on your tongue, “let you have it,” It took all your strength not to close your lips around his girth as he rubbed his dick over your protruding tongue but your resilience seemed to impress him. Slowly he pushed himself deeper, allowed you to suck on his head for a moment. “Maybe I should use this time you’re all locked up to train you. Teach you to be a filthy oral whore.” The suggestion made your cunt throb but there was nothing you could do to alleviate the desperate desire to be touched. Not even squeezing your thighs together helped. “I’ll teach you to be so desperate to suck cock that you won’t ever want to take the belt off. And when I decide to use your cunt you’ll wish it was your throat,” Roger pulled himself from your lips and you were once again forced to watch as he wanked in front of you. Right up until he stopped and walked behind you. “Sir?” His presence came close again, right up behind you, “Shhhh, slut, I’m still here,” Roger gripped your chin from above and tilted your head back slightly. “Fuck you look so hot like this, drives me fucking wild to see my little toy all soaked in cum. Close your eyes,” You did, heart racing with the uncertainty of what he might be planning. There was a tap on your forehead as the tip of Roger’s dick landed there. “I’ll reward you with some more edges tonight. Maybe I’ll even give you a ruin, if you’re very lucky. I want you so desperate that all you think about is my cock. Twenty-four seven. So desperate you’ll beg just to be allowed to suck me off.” You couldn’t see what Roger was doing but you felt it when he came again, jizz running from your forehead down the side of your nose, onto your cheek and over your top lip, dripping onto your waiting tongue. Roger stepped back and you heard the zzzziiippp of his fly being pulled up followed by the jangle of his belt, but you didn’t move. He stroked his fingers down the side of your neck, offing you a soft, “good girl,” as he moved back round to take in your appearance. “Jesus this is….you look so fucking hot,” you could feel the breath of his laugh as he leaned forward, his thumbs brushing over your closed eyes, making sure they hadn’t been caught in his crossfire, “alright, you can open your eyes now, and close your mouth if you want,” You carefully opened on eye and then the other, able to taste Roger as you swallowed what you’d caught on your tongue. “Did that make you feel any better?” “I don’t know if I’d say better. Wetter? Definitely.” “You’re a bloody poet, love,” “I try. You wanna help me up or did you have more in you?” Roger held out his hand with a chuckle, pulling you to your feet. When you were closer to eye level he paused, eyes roaming over your face, and then leaned in to peck you on the lips. It was unexpected but appreciated, though not quite as much as the damp face cloth he used to clean you.

The next morning Roger asked if you’d like to put the belt back on and you said yes. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day. Each time he reminded you that you were allowed to say no and then, when you assured him you knew that, helped lock it into place. At some point (and sometimes at multiple points) during the day he’d use your mouth, only needing to click his fingers for you to drop to your knees for him. He made sure to compare you to vacuum cleaners and other objects. Metaphors that would normally have made you roll your eyes or tell him he was disgusting, but which now turned you into a whiney wet mess. Admittedly they weren’t all good. The time he said you had a mouth like a black hole you’d nearly choked as you started laughing with your lips already stretched around him. He’d apologised and said he’d cut back on the sci-fi comparisons so you could finish the job properly. At night you’d have a shower and change into pyjamas, often forgoing PJ pants since Roger liked to edge you while you weren’t wearing the belt. He’d slip his fingers into your panties while you watched TV or as you were settling down to sleep. But not once did he try to actually fuck you. It was infuriating and frustrating and such a turn on. Until it stopped being hot.

You’d woken up that morning as excited and enthusiastic about the belt as you had been the previous few mornings but by the afternoon it had started feeling uncomfortable and oppressive. You came to the conclusion that denial and edging was fun but you needed a more definite time period to work within. When Roger had left and said you’d be able to orgasm again when he came back in two months’ time, that had been exciting and hot because there was a time limit. A light at the end of the tunnel that you could see and count down to. Something to aim for. Denial wasn’t just about not cumming, it was about challenging your own expectations of yourself and maybe trying to beat your previous record. What you were doing now didn’t have that specificity, that goal to work towards, and it was beginning to feel like you were being punished for nothing. The constant empty ache you felt didn’t help. Of course denial usually came with aches and desperate needy feelings but something about this time was different. Usually Roger would relish fucking you as much as possible, all the time telling you not to cum or else he’d have to spank you. It was always hard holding back as he took his pleasure but it was rewarding too and it helped relieve the tension that constant edging could cause, even without finishing. Sometimes, if you’d been good and he wanted to be nice, he’d give you a ruin as well. And even if he ended up being mean and leaving your arse pink and smarting from his blows, you got a certain kind of enjoyment from it. But with the chastity belt and the refusal to fuck you, you weren’t getting any relief at all. After thinking through it all, you decided you needed a break from the belt. It would be fun to try again another day but maybe with more discussion and certainties. You looked over to the other couch where Roger was stretched out. “Hey, Rog?” “Yes, love?” “I think I want to stop.” Roger looked away from the TV, his attention shifting to you, “You mean with the belt?” “Yeah. I think I’m close to using my safeword. It’s just feeling kind of not good at the moment. Can you please unlock me?” “Okay. Of course we can stop. C’mon, I left the key in our room,” Roger held out his hand for yours, brushing his lips over your knuckles as he pulled you up.

You sighed with relief as you stepped out of the belt, already feeling better, if not a little embarrassed by just how obviously wet you were. Roger stood, about to say something, but you pulled him into a kiss instead, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Well,” he said with a laugh, “I was going to ask what else I could do to make you feel better but I think you’ve made it quite obvious,” “Need you Rog. Literally need. I’ve never meant it as much as I do now,” “Jesus, okay,” he was already fumbling with his fly one handed, “We really did a number on you, huh,” You nodded, dropping your hands to help him get his pants off. As soon as the zip was down he kissed you again, leading you towards the bed. “How do you want me?” “Don’t care, just fuck me,” “For as long as you want,” Roger pushed on your shoulder and you fell back onto the bed, watching as he kicked his pants and underwear off. You whined when he took too long but he soothed you with a kiss and then more down your neck, until he met the neckline of your t-shirt. He didn’t bother removing it though, just squeezed your breasts through it. You were glad, sure you’d implode if you didn’t have him immediately. Instead he kissed your lips again, fiercely, as you reached for his cock, willing him to hurry up and get hard enough. As soon as he was ready he pushed your hand away and pressed into your cunt with an ease that was somewhere between ridiculous and pathetic. “Fuck you’re soaked,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. Even if he had been speaking to you, you’re not sure you would have heard, much too preoccupied by how full you suddenly felt. It was such a contrast from the previous week of aching for it and all you could think to say was thank you, over and over as Roger slowly fucked into you. “You gotta stop squirming so much, love, or I’m gonna slip out,” You clenched around him at the suggestion, smiling when he tightened his grip on your thigh. Roger brought his fingers to your clit, circling it as you whined, your orgasm already so unbelievably close. It didn’t take much more than a couple of light circles around your clit to tip you over the edge. You weren’t sure you’d ever cum quite so hard from quite so little stimulation but you could barely speak, your breath catching in your throat along with your voice. Roger kept his fingers in place as he calmly thrust into you, egging you on, pushing you through the most well-earned orgasm you’d ever had. But he was by no means done with you. He gave you a few moments to calm and catch your breath, and then he shifted your legs over his shoulders, one at a time as you tried to brace yourself. He sunk deeper with the change of position, picking up his pace to fuck you harder, keeping a firm grip on you so that, even though your back arched and you writhed under him, head falling to one side and then whipping around to the other, you’d remain in place on his cock. With every thrust, every squeeze of his fingertips, you felt yourself drawing close to the edge again and you begged Roger, through gasped breaths, not to stop. He didn’t. He wouldn’t have even considered it until you told him to. “I can feel how close you are, love. Come on, cum for me. Show me just how much you like being fucked and cum,” “yes, yes, fuck yes,” “That’s right, good- good girl, f-fuck you’re tight. Fucking feel your cunt pul-sing. You’ve missed that feeling haven’t you?” You just nodded, head still foggy. “Think you’ve got another one in you? Or do you want me to stop?” “No, don’t stop,” Roger chuckled and pulled out of you as you whined but it was only so he could flip you onto your stomach and pull your hips up. Before you could even begin to complain about the sudden desertion, he was back inside you, pulling you back onto his cock as he rammed into you. “I want to hear you this time. You know I like how loud my slut gets,” There was no way you could deny a request like that, not when he was making you feel so good, filling you so perfectly, giving you exactly what you’d so desperately needed. You babbled for him, a mess of curses and half conceived thoughts about how good it felt mixed with whines and moans. And that only made him fuck you harder, until you came again, screaming his name. He fucked you through it, though he grunted with each thrust, holding off his own orgasm until he was sure you were satisfied. You swore you nearly came again as he spilled himself inside you before both of you collapsed bonelessly to the bed.

You complained when Roger pulled out of you again, but he did make a good point about not wanting to crush you. And he made up for it by pulling you close and kissing you as much as he could, in between checking how you felt and if you were okay now. “Yeah, better,” you sighed, running you hand over his arm, “I really really needed that,” “I could tell. Sorry I made you wait so long,” “No, it was fun too, the waiting. But not forever, y’know.” “Yeah I do. If you ever want to try the whole chastity belt thing again we’ll be better, figure out how to make it fun again,” “Sounds good. But maybe not for a while,” “No, not for a while. I like fucking you too much to give it up again so soon,” You laughed at that, leaned in to kiss him again. “You’re probably too tired but, uh, I could go again if you wanted,” “Now?” “Maybe a minute?” “A minute sounds good and I’m not too tired. But if I was, maybe we could sleep like that, with you in me?” “Really?” “I don’t think you’ve grasped quite how badly I’ve wanted you since you first showed me the belt, how badly I still want you,” “I think that can be arranged then,” he laughed again, kissing you once more as he rolled back over.

#my writing #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #absolutely wild that any of you have been with me since IMIUTY tbh #i was so unsure about posting that sldjslkds #and now i just casually chuck out 9k words of filth #also #a lot of chastity stuff is about wearing them constantly #which is hot but not realistic #because if you dont clean them and give your body time to breathe #it can lead to UTIs and stuff #so if your gonna play with a belt and you have a p****#make sure to take it off intermittently #anyway #can someone please lock me in a belt and idk maybe mock me when i start to beg

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violetnotez · 4 years

Note

Can I request a storyline where reader and Ms. Joke gives advice to each other to ask their crushes out. (Reader crushing on Bakugou and Ms. Joke likes Eraserhead). Also I love your Dabi fic it's so damn amazing.

Anon I know this took so long but I loved this idea ALOT. Like-literally GENIUSSSSSSSS!!!! And omg I’m so happy you liked my Dabi fics!!!🥺😭

Another fic for the @bnhabookclub event! If you wanna join in, heres the link!

Also pls ignore that Ms Jokes shoulder has disappeared I forgot to fix it 💀

Bakugo x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 2000+

⤷ Warnings: cursing

⤷ Synopsis: As your helping your hero aunt Ms. Joke concoct a plan to win over Eraserhead, the conversation somehow turns to your crush on Bakugo. Even though you feel comfortable talking about the hotheaded boy with your aunt over the phone, you don’t realize how bad that idea is until a certain someone decided to eavesdrop outside the door.

Song Recs: ⤷ Leave This Place-Lione ⤷All This Time-Deorro ⤷Start It Over-NOTD

“Okay okay, how about this one-

“Can you pass me my inhaler, because you just took my breath away!”

Ms. Joke made an over exaggerated attempt at swooning, her voice airy and theatrical. You couldn’t help but giggle at her antics, your nose scrunching at the terrible pick up line she just gave you.

“I don’t think that one will work Auntie,” you mused, your phone on speaker as you tidied up your UA dorm room.

Not many people were aware of it, but your aunt was Ms. Joke, the comedy hero. It was quite a shocker when you let that information out to your classmates, as they couldn’t understand why you had went to UA over her hero school. It was true you had entertained the idea of going, but as much as you loved your aunt-you could only tolerate her for so long. She was so fun and energetic to be around, but that energy quickly became draining after a few hours.

The thought of having to be around your aunt every day made you feel tired just thinking about it, so you had kindly opted to try UA instead. Your aunt was a little disappointed that you had picked UA over her school, but she was over the moon excited for you to finally follow her footsteps and become a hero.

It also didn’t hurt that you would be around Aizawa quite a lot-and she definitely used that to her advantage.

“Oh Cmon tho, Jitter Bug, he would love it!” She exclaimed through the phone. “That one is such a laugh riot!”

“I think you forget that Mr. Aizawa isn’t too big on jokes,” you gave her a short giggle as you began to fold the freshly cleaned clothes on your bed.

“Hm….” she hummed in thought.

“What about-I’m thirsty, and guess whose body is 75% water? I’d then give him a killer smile to go along with it-he can’t say no to me then!”

Your cheeks turned incredibly red-the thought of your aunt hitting on your teacher so openly like that? Revolting.

You made a gagging noise at the prospect, a nervous laugh spilling out.

“I swear if you do that, I will dig my own grave and lay in there from second hand embarrassment,”

A belly laugh erupted in the other end of the line, Ms. Joke’s chuckles high pitched and uncontrollable.

“You really are a hard one to impress, huh?” She said between laughter.

“That type of pick up line is a little too young though-you babies are the ones that say ‘thirsty’ all the time…”

You heard a little hum on the other side of the phone, signaling she was thinking deeply.

“Why don’t you use that one on that boy you like, what’s his name again?”

She asked good naturedly, a hint of sneakiness in her voice. “It’s-Bakugo, Katsuki Bakugo, right?”

Your eyes went wide like saucers, your body language going rigid.

“Auntie you cant say that so loud, I’m on speaker phone!” You hushed her.

Your cheeks went insanely red, your head swiveling to look at your door.

Damn you and not closing it properly-anybody walking by could have heard!

Your aunt only knew about your crush because she had noticed you staring quite intently at Bakugou at your provisional licensing exam, her questions hard to not answer truthfully. She had promised not to tell anyone, not even your parents, but she used it against you nevertheless.

You sighed a breath of relief once you were satisfied that no one had walked by, your head turning back to your phone call.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Unknowing to you, someone had walked by-Bakugo.

It was later in the day and getting close to his early bedtime, so he had come up to tell you to be quiet.

It felt strange walking up to your room-Bakugo knew he was beginning to like you, more than just a classmate or a friend, yet he didn’t quite want to believe it.

He shouldn’t have all these vulnerable feelings, he should be focusing on training and nothing more. But the more and more he tried to ignore it the more and more he realized how much he truly admired you-you were so damn pretty to him, your laugh and smile always making a blush rise to his cheeks, and the way you would look at him so innocently whenever he spoke to you made his whole world light up.

He liked how you respected him, but you would also put him in his place if needed.You were really one of the few only people he would listen to, which made it even worse-you had a power over him you didn’t even know about. It frustrated him, but he cared about your opinion too damn much to openly defy your wishes.

It sucked how easily he’d fallen for you, but he couldn't make it stop, no matter how hard he tried.

Just as he trudged up the stairs to your room, he noticed the door unlocked, a strange thing for him to see since he had prepared himself to knock. Whatever-less time waiting outside your door. He lightly leaned himself against the adjacent wall, ready to yell his warning at you quickly until he heard the familiar voice of Ms. Joke speak his name from a phone call.

The hell were you even talking about?

He couldn’t help it, he had to listen in, it was him you were talking about after all. As much as he didnt want to care, he hoped it was only good things you were speaking of, his heart fluttering when he heard your aunt say “you like him.”

Was it true? Did you really feel the same for him?

Bakugo instantly felt himself to sweat, his vermillion eyes wide as he prayed the news he was hearing wasn’t a lie-you had to like him back. You just had to.

Ms. Joke laughed at your distress, her voice lighthearted and loud.

“Oops, sorry!” She said, not a single ounce of remorse in her tone. “But really, y/n, what do you see in that boy! He’s so-well-“

“Harsh?” You finished her sentence, shuffling on your bed.

“Exactly! He’s always so mean and entitled too-you can’t find another boy in UA? What about Shoto-hes a pretty one!”

You gave a giggle, your hands fiddling nervously with your hair.

“Shoto is just a friend Auntie, and besides, he’s quite reserved-Bakugo isn’t,” you sighed, “Ive never meant anyone like him before.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Bakugo’s heart beat painfully in his chest from outside the door.

This was fucking wrong-he was being a total creepster eaves dropping in your private conversation.

He kept telling himself that this was all okay, because you were talking about him and it was your goddamn fault for speaking about him behind his back-

But he knew deep down it was because he wanted so badly to know. He just wanted to be reassured that there was a connection between you two and he could pursue it somehow.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

“He’s just so-different. He is really harsh and brutally honest-it makes him kinda unique in a way. He’s always so driven, trying to do his best to be the best-it’s infectious, ya know? I can't help but admire him for that.”

you admired him? god, hearing those words sent him over the moon. You sounded so sweet and so soft as you relayed all your inner feelings to Ms. Joke, his heart was practically swooning.

Your aunt gave a small nod at your words, her voice much more understanding.

“Have you talked to him? Tried to ask him out or do anything you little kiddies usually do when you have a crush?” She asked playfully.

You sighed, your hands combing through your hair.

“Oh I could never! He wouldn’t like me back-he’s too into his school work. And he is super harsh-god I don’t know what I’d do if he’d reject me….”

“I understand you full heartedly JitterBug,” she used your nickname again, a groan slipping out of your lips.

“Are you yiu ever going to stop calling me that!”

“Never!” She exclaimed, her voice loud and cheerful again. “Your my wonderful little JitterBug and I’m going to keep calling you that until I kick the bucket!

“But really,” she sighed, her tone much more serious. “You never know until you try! I got rejected myself many, many, MANY times-but Im still doing perfectly fine!”

You held back a small snicker-your aunt, the Jokester Hero, who can’t hold a conversation without cackling like a maniac, the one who wears the most ridiculous outfits, has a chaotic fighting style, and has been pinning over the same guy since her internship days as a rookie?

Yeah, perfectly fine isn’t the best way you would describe her.

You simply hummed a nod in order to satiate her a response, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Ugh, I just got a call-they need me to help out with some robbery,” you aunt huffed out, her tone clearly tired. You felt a little bad for the hero-she must have been having a pretty crazy day.

“I’m sorry we had to cut our call so short!”

“Oh no it’s no problem!” You reasuresed her happily, “stay safe out there!”

“You two Jitterbug! Byeeeee!” She practically yelled her goodbye into the phone, making you flinch.

You breathed a tranquil sigh, readying yourself to start studying for your tests when you heard a loud banging upon your door.

“Oi, dumbass, can I come in for a minute?” The gruff voice of Bakugo filled the room, making your blood shiver-

Bakugo?!? Wait-was he there the whole time?!?

You teeth were practically chattering from that overwhelming fear, your cheeks red and your eyes wide.

You seriously were going to crawl into a hole and never come out if he heard that whole conversation.

You crawled off your bed, your hand making their way to the door to peak it open slightly.

Bakugo’s heart was thumping violently in his chest-now he knew you felt the same for him, this was going to be extremely easy. But he still felt really nervous, especially when your hair was so perfectly messy like that and your cheeks were dusted with pink like you were already nervous yourself.

God damn, why did you have to be so attractive? It just messed everything up for him, making him feel like he couldn’t think straight.

“Hey Bakugo, I-Uh-what’s up? Did you need something?”

“Yeah,” he replied gruffly, his nerves making his hand sweat more than usual. “something like that,”

Damn quirk, he thought in annoyance, shoving his hands into his pants. “You gonna let me in?”

“Oh-uh,”you began to stutter, shifting away from the door and opening it up slightly, “sure, yeah!”

He grinned to himself at your adorableness-did you always act this nervous around him? How did he not notice you like him before-it was so obvious to see now when you were fidgeting like that.

He strutted into your room, a new found confidence in him as he shut the door of the room for you, practically trapping you in with him. A mischievous smirk graced his lips, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Don’t want anyone overhearing by accident cause you cant close a door right,”

You groaned in embarrassment.

Welp-he knew.

You gave him a small look, your eyes doe -like and scrunched up in uneasiness.

“How much of that did you hear?” You asked timidly.

Bakugo scoffed, that shit eating grin still plastered on his face.

“All of it, Jitterbug,”

You groaned yet again, plopping your body onto the bed in embarrassment.

How could this happen?! He was right-you should have closed the door! You covered your face with your hands, your fingers trailing against your forehead and your hair.

“God I’m so sorry, I probably sounded like a creep, I didn’t mean to-“ you tried to apologize and explain yourself, your cheeks a cherry red.

“Do you like me?” He interrupted you, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You looked up timidly-god, was he always this intimidating?

He was standing right in front you, his overwhelming stature making you feel so small and overpowered. He was wearing this strange smirk, as if he was enjoying interrogating you.

That usually wasn’t a Bakugo thing to do, to smirk like that, but damn, was it kinda-hot. You could really only focus on that, on the way his lips curled up so softly like he was happy about something but trying to repress it. It was warm and inviting, and you couldn’t help but feel some of your awkwardness melt away.

“How would you feel if I said ‘yes’?” You tried your best to lighten the mood some what, a nervous smile slipping against your lips.

Bakugo knelt down, his body so much more closer to you. His hands went on each side of your legs, his thumbs just brushing your outer thigh. He caged you in to the bed with his arms, his face mere inches from yours.

Well shit.

You felt the blood rush to your face, your ears pounding-you never knew he felt this warm so close, and god-did he really smell like salted caramel? His vermillion eyes were boaring to yours, sending your senses into over drive.

“And how would it feel if I said ‘yes’?” He turned your words against you, his voice husky and deep form being so close.

You squirmed from nerves, your hands going to play with your hair. It was so strange being so close to him, and you didn’t know what to do.

You looked so cute flustered like this-Bakugo internally tried to remember this perfectly, mentally writing down your adorable mannerisms and facial expression to memory. As much as he loved this, you were taking too long for a reply, and he was getting a little annoyed.

“What was that? I’m still waiting,” he asked gruffly, his voice low and sultry.

You gulped, feeling a pang in your heart from hearing that type of voice come from him. Directed to you.

“I-Uh-yes, I-I do, I've liked you for a while now,” you revealed, your cheeks practically tomato red.

He smirked at your expression, slowly lifting his body with off the weight.

You looked up in confusion, already feeling cold without his warm body so close to yours.

“Good,” he replied, his voice prideful, “cause I feel the same way.”

“You do!” You practically shouted, your eyes wide with shock.

The Bakugo-“liked you” liked you? You could practically scream with happiness.

“Well yeah dumbass, why would I say that if I didn’t?” He chuckled slightly, his bright red eyes still drinking you in.

Now his nerves were coming out again, a heaviness feeling his stomach as he realized what he had to do now.

“I-I’m not good at this shit, but-

“Wanna go out tomorrow?”

You were practically screaming like a little girl internally. This was happening? Was this all just a cruel dream?

Only one way to figure out if this was real or not.

You stood up from the bed, bringing yourself close to the hot head.

Now it was Bakugo’s turn to be embarrased-he was getting too comfortable being the one to make you nervous. He forgot how you could make him so flustered, your warm smile and pretty eyes making his heart thump painfully and his mind go into a panicked standstill.

Your hands shakily wrapped around his neck, slow to see how he would react.

God, you had thought about touching his hair for so long now, it was even better than you imagined-soft and fluffy like a cloud, you ran your hands through the spiky locks. The faint smell of caramel wafted into your nose agaun, making you feel nervous and calm at the same time.

He was slightly rigid, staring at you with shocked eyes-but he seemed to not mind this. You smiled softly, your heart thumping-it was now or never.

You slowly got on your toes and leaned yourself into his lips, surprised how warm they felt. At first he didn’t move, which scared you-but he eventually began to move against your lips, a little rough but still pleasant. A flood of warmth filled your body, your hands relaxing against his body. You felt his arms wrap around your body, his lips now taking the lead and guiding you into him.

You couldn’t believe how good this felt, how perfect and surreal it was.

But you remembered-sadly- breathing was a thing, your lungs burning as you both reluctantly pulled away.

You thanked your aunt for her loud mouth in your blissful daze, because without her, you wouldn’t be kissing your crush now.

You smiled at the blonde, his cheeks dusted with red and his eyes drinking you in.

“Tomorrow sounds great.”

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shackermanwrites · 3 years

Text

Lifetime

Summary: When everything's falling apart in your life, and you don't know what to do anymore, maybe asking the universe for something isn't a bad idea after all. In which Sol Reader finds herself in another reality after begging the universe for something. Everything is going well not until she was put into Levi's squad.

Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3

Lifetime Masterlist

The loud banging on the door made you instantly jolt up from your bed, and you looked at the digital clock beside your bed.

“It's 4:44 am; give me a break.” You mumbled to yourself as you got up from your bed.

It’s the first time in months that you have gotten a night of sleep for more than three hours and only to be interrupted by a loud knock, you could honestly punch a wall right there.

As soon as you open the door, the smile on Petra’s face was immediately replaced by a frown.

“You look terrible, Are you okay?” She invited herself in and placed her bag on the table beside the door.

“Geez, good morning to you too huh, you woke me up, genius” you plopped down back to your bed and hugged your pillow.

“I just want to see you before you go, and also, my mom cooked some food for you and your family. It's not much, but she made your favorite banana bread.”

Petra sat on the side of your bed and lay next to you, not caring if it’ll ruin her hair. You have been like this for almost a year, and you treat each other like sisters since she’s an only child, she confessed that she looks up to you like an older sister. Her family also treats you as their own, and you are beyond thankful for them. You honestly can't imagine how you will survive if it weren’t for them.

“Thank you, Petra. I appreciate it” You gave her a brief smile while you pinch her cheeks for a second before getting up from the bed.

You were supposed to wake up at 5 am, but since you are already awake and it's almost 5, you went to the bathroom to wash your face and take a bath. The faint sound of the television and the running cold water is the only thing you can hear.

You arrived at your house around 5 pm that day, the trip was indeed tiring even though there are not many people traveling considering that it is almost the holiday season.

As soon as you stepped inside the house, a blonde girl who’s holding a book came rushing at you with a big smile on her face.

“Historia! You have gotten a lot taller since I last saw you.” You immediately let go of your baggage and hugged the girl. You honestly missed her, and you know she did too. She was left alone in this house, and you know how it must be hard for her to grow up alone.

“I missed you so much, Sol. I have so many stories I want to share with you, mom! Dad! Sol is here!” the excitement and joy are all over her voice.

Your mom greeted you on her apron. She gave you a smile before glancing at the living room.

“Oh honey, you're back. Your dad is in the living room. I'm glad you could make it before Christmas.” your mother smiled at you once again before she went back to the kitchen.

You hate yourself for being mad. The feeling of being unwanted rushes through your body once again.

You didn’t want to face your father, but you're here now, and there's no backing off. You pat Historia’s head before your feet made their way to the living room to where your father is.

“Father, I'm home.” Your father didn’t look at you. He didn’t even try to glance in your direction. Instead, his eyes are glued to the book he is reading.

“I haven't seen you for two years. I forgot I have an older daughter.” The palm of your hands started to turn white as you clench your hands into a fist. You didn’t want to disrespect your parents, so you forced yourself to utter the word ‘sorry’ before excusing yourself.

“The fuck are you doing, cadet?! Get the hell up and start running!” The people who pass through the man shouting at a cadet lying on the ground clenched tighter on the rifle they are holding as they run faster in fear that they might get called.

Tired, thirsty, and hungry are the exact words you can describe the soldiers running under the sun while holding a 4kg rifle.

“So, a new batch of brats just graduated last night? How many are they?”

“Not more than 70 but not less than 50, eight from the top 10 decided to join survey corps. Don’t you need three more cadets to annoy you for your squad?”

“Shut it four eyes, and I do need someone who has a great aim at rifle since the last squad you gave me were nothing but shit. One cadet cant even shoots properly, and the other was shaking non-stop tch, pathetic.”

“Yeah, sorry shorty, but say less since they will be here early morning tomorrow. I just hope I get Reader and Ackerman in my squad!”

“Both of them topped their class? Tch, of course, those brats will pick you, considering that being in my squad means leading their own lives to hell. Anyway, I need to go, Hange.”

“Bye, Levi! Keep the weather down there cool!”

Levi Ackerman, one of the most outstanding soldiers on Paradis Island. At the age of 14, he was already in the survey corps after his mother died, he had no choice but to survive and live, and the only thing to survive for a homeless person on the Island is to become a soldier and fight for their home.

Most of the soldiers who joined are because of the ranks, a privileged to every family who has a soldier in survey corps is seen as honorable. Homeless people who want to join the military are a joke to them since they know that they are desperate to keep going in life. Still, Levi isn’t one of them at that time. He’s exceptionally strong, wise, and disciplined. That’s why no one ever challenged him after beating up the section commander in his first year in training.

Levi is an exceptional soldier, his rank went up throughout the years, and he’s currently holding the title of Squad Captain for Special Operations at the age of 26.

The wind danced his green cape that holds the title of his rank while he walks over to a bunch of cadets panting after running laps for hours under the beaming hot sun.

“Take a break and come back after 5 minutes, don’t even bother coming late” Levi watched as the soldier in front of him salute and instantly went to do their business.

He looked up to the sky to see a bunch of birds flying across the sky. He wanted something, yet he can't put the right words into it. Maybe he even needed it instead of want.

Aiming at the sky with his rifle, he shoots at the sky, causing a bird to fall in front of a cadet, making him caught off guard.

‘A bunch of pussies ’ Levi thought.

A loud bang from the door causing you and Historia to flinched while lying on the bed on your stomach. The both of you have been catching up with each other for almost an hour now with a bunch of stories about her school.

You heard your mom called you and your sister saying that it's already dinner time, so both of you went down to the kitchen.

Your father was already sitting at the dining table while reading a book while your mom prepares the plates and utensils to the table. You didn’t manage to help since, by the time you have sat, your mother was already finished preparing the table.

As all of you started to eat, no one bothered to engage in a conversation, and it bothers you because you feel awkward the entire time. Luckily for you, your mother is the first one to talk.

“How's college? You didn't come home for almost two years.”

You grip on your fork tightly, you had hoped to yourself that one of them would ask how you are doing, but here they are asking you how college is.

You compose yourself before answering her question. “I'm sorry, I'm just busy, but college is fine. I'm doing great academically, and I am passing my subjects.”

Your mother nods at your response before she returns to her food.

“At least be a responsible sister to Historia, the poor girl kept asking for you last year. I did not raise to be irresponsible,” your father coldly said while giving you a bored stare.

You want to cry at that moment.

No, you want to scream.

You're trying; your mind was filled with thought and screamed inside your head, but you managed to give an apologetic smile to your father.

“I'm sorry, father, I will do better next time.”

You can't look at them in the eyes because if you do, you know youll burst into tears and don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of your family.

You excused yourself from the dinner by making up an excuse that you're tired.

You are.

Once you entered your room, you quickly took a shower before throwing yourself at your bed to rest.

You're tired from the travel, and you're exhausted from holding yourself back from anything and anyone.

‘fuck you, universe,’ you thought to yourself.

“Take me home, universe, I know I'm not home, take me to my home universe, whatever the cost is,” you softly mumbled to yourself a bunch of times before closing your eyes as you took a deep breath.

You stayed like that until you fall asleep while hugging your pillow.

“Sol, I know you're tired from celebrating but get up before the higher ranks get mad” a faint voice made you groan from disturbing your sleep.

You don’t know what time it is, but you want more sleep, so you rolled over to the other side of the bed.

Not a minute had passed, but a pillow was slammed into your arms, and a voice quickly followed it. “Sol, I woke you up, don’t tell me I didn’t, get up and get ready, Armin, and I won't wait for you.”

A couple of silence before footsteps can be heard, then the sound of a door closing.

You stayed in that position for a couple of minutes before opening your eyes wide open and sat on the bed.

You saw a bed beside yours and a bunch of books on the table beside your bed.

You're not in your room.

You don’t know where you are.

#levi fanfiction #levi ackerman #levi fic #levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi aot #levi au #levi attack on titan #levi fanfic slow burn #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #aot #aot x reader #hurt comfort #captain levi

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boxboysandotherwhump · 3 years

Text

Things only whispered about

taglist: @finder-of-rings @salamancialilypad @albino-whumpee @comfy-whumpee @haro-whumps @vickytokio@ashintheairlikesnow @orchidscript @yet-another-heathen @finder-of-rings

side note: Chapter 13 is not yet written. It will contain the first day of Sahar’s and Charlottes training for their entry exam. The current chapter (chapter 14) takes place during their last day of training.

Chapter 14

Charlotte had always considered herself disciplined and in good shape from years of intense dancing, but those post training runs would be her undoing if Sahar wasn't going to slow down soon.

The woods thick undergrowth cut up her calves and every heavy breath she heaved with burning lungs hurt all the more since Sahar's fist had smashed into her sternum earlier today.

His huge eyes had been filled with terror as he helped Charlotte to regain her breath, rubbing soothing circles over her back with hands that wouldn't stop trembling. Stuttered apologies spilling from his lips.

“The risk of training, I suppose.” She had grinned and hidden a wince.

Charlotte wasn't grinning now, too focused not to lose Sahar’s back in the midst of giant roots and flower stems.

Just how did he make jumping over those slippery moss covered hurdles look this easy?

She was just about to call out to him when a faint high pitched beeping echoed through the heavy lavender scented air made her stop.

Coming to an abrupt halt a few meters in front of her, Sahar asked: “Did you you you hear that, too?”

“Yeah. It comes from the border, doesn’t it?”

He paused, canting his head to better hear the whisper silent ‘beep… beep… beep’ over the rustle of leaves and the ever present hiss of their defence units, spraying insecticide into the air to form the invisible barrier of thin mist that kept them all safe.

“Yes.” Uncertainty flickered in his eyes, lingered in the quick tap tap tap of fingers over thighs.”Do do do do you think one of- one of the the the units- that one of the units is is is is…”

“No. That sounds way too quiet to come from a unit.” A sunbeam broke through the canopy, danced over Sahar’s arm and dipped golden light into the divods of his scars. Charlotte turned towards the sound. “But let's go and make sure.”

They creeped through the underwood, careful not to snap a twig underfoot or rustle the leaves that brushed their arms and legs and faces in unwelcome ghostly caresses. Every breath was a quietly, carefully measured micromovement of lungs.

One of the defence units hissed high above their heads now, the big chunky device securely fixed on the halfway point of a giant steel pipe tower whose top broke through the thick canopy. Charlotte had never seen the large solar panels mounted up there, or the giant canisters filled with insecticide, safely hidden in the foliage.

None of the village kids had ever dared to climb up the towers to take a peek. No one wanted to be responsible for damaging a unit and dooming them all to hell.

The steady ‘beep… beep… beep’ had gotten louder and was very clearly not coming from the unit overhead. Whatever made that sound was just behind the bushes Charlotte and Sahar were crouching under. Right in front of them.

“Sahar?” Charlotte whispered and turned to him, only to find the space beside her empty.

Sahar had vanished in between the softly swaying goutwort stems.

“Char- Char-Charlotte.” His hoarse trembling whisper barely carried past the large leaves.

Charlotte's palms prickled as she broke through the last barrier of leaves between her and the four meter wide stripe of self-healing concrete the village founders had poured around their border. Four meters of clear view in an endlessly growing forest, before the soft, second border of lavender, lemon balm and peppermint sprouted high into the air right on the other side.

No matter how often Charlotte and the other orphanage kids had sneaked onto the strip on one stupid dare or another, she simply couldnt shake the feeling of unease that creeped up her spine as soon as she left the certain safety of the units radius.

“Look.” Sahar stood with his back pressed against the bushes behind him, ready to vanish back into their cover even though the bright smile that danced over his face betrayed his excitement. Pointing towards a sad looking lavender bush, he whispered: “A a a a a a a- Charlotte, it’s it’s it’s it’s- It's an old, old gardening bot.”

And it had heard them.

The bots head turned towards Sahar with a mechanical whirr, fixing him with a face full of glowing visual sensors. It had an uncanny resemblance to an insect, with its unreadable expression and the two many spindly legs twitching and whirring under its green roundish body.

“Human identified.” The pleasant voice of a human woman coming from a tiny speaker in the center of its round head made the fine hairs on Charlotte's neck rise. “Requesting help.”

“Oh. Oh, oh, oh Charlotte look. It it it it’s arm is stuck, stuck in the roots.”

Charlotte considered the bot as it struggled fruitlessly against the yarn thick, twisted roots it undoubtedly had tried to entangle and reburry in an effort to preserve the plant's health.

“Let’s free it and take it to the mechanic. That thing must have some heavy-duty solar batteries built in, if it's still operating.”

“But-” Frowning, Sahar dug a short sturdy knife from his belt bag and unsheathed it. “Isn’t he go-go go, isn’t he going to,to kill it?”

Charlotte sighed. All surrogate keeper weariness, revealing the big impatient sister of too many siblings related by circumstance instead of blood. “Sahar. You can’t kill something that has never been alive in the first place.”

The whirring of struggling metal limbs picked up anew, accompanied by the plaintive soft beep… beep… beep that had led them here. “Requesting help. Requesting help. Help.”

Sahar sank to his knees beside the bot,shushing it with a little pat to its mud crusted head before he started to carefully cut into the knot of entangled roots. “Don’t, don’t worry. We we we have, we have you out of this in no time.”

That the bots' distressed beeping stopped was solely its programing, Charlotte told herself, as she listened to Sahar’s affectionate hums.

Something rustled the leaves of a lavender bush nearby, and all three of them froze.

Charlotte scanned the sea of gently swaying greens all around them, eyes flitting restlessly over large leaves. Every dancing shadow they cast had her heart stutter stop in her chest.

The knife quivered in Sahar's grip as he frantically resumed cutting.

They could feel it before they heard it. An awful rhythmic tremor that made the ground vibrate under their feet.

“Danger detected. Initiate protocol 34217.” The bot announced and shut down with a high pitched double ding, retracting its still free limbs into itself before the red glow of his eyes expired in all but one.

Charlotte's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes snappet to Sahar, crouched low under lavender leaves on the wrong side of the strip. Three meters too far from safety, if the creature marching towards them really was what Charlotte feared it might be.

The thud, thud, thud of too many legs in lockstep drowned out the quiet sounds of the forest. Stole away the whispering wind.

She had never encountered one of them, but the horror stricken tales, whispered over the steaming brim of mead-filled mugs by two surviving scouts, matched to a tea. It’s name had only ever been a murmur in midnight hours, a cold shiver down her neck.

Centipede.

Sahar gestured for her to leave, to take five steps back into the safety behind their border, hands clutched around the knife in a steady, white knuckled grip.

The bush right next to him moved. Charlotte did not. And the creature broke through.

Its long black body glistened in the sunlight.

A twitching antenna brushed Sahar’s shin and his legs gave out. Crumpling to the ground, a choked off laugh spilled from his lips. “A fuck- fuck- fucking millipede.”

Its hundred pointy feet clicked over the concrete as it scuttled onto the strip and Charlotte wanted to kick its stupid, round, pincerless head. A wave of relief imploded inside her, burst against her ribcage and sent shockwaves down her limbs. Her legs trembled, deadweight heavy and feather light and she wondered if that's what weightlessness felt like. That elusive disorientation inside your own skin, as an astronaut had described it in one of the many books that were recovered from the ruins of a world she’ll never know.

The millipede jerked its head to the side, all of a sudden, thrashing its body in invisible agony.

Charlotte dodged the mighty arthropod by a hair's breadth and stumbled backwards into the unit's radius of protection, nearly tripping on the edge where hard concrete, smooth and bare of any fissures, gave way to soft earth. Tiny droplets of fine mist caught in her curls and dampened her skin, tickled the tip of her nose.

Jerking and thrashing, the millipede fought against it’s formless prison of disorientating discomfort. It’s body segments rattled and chirped, rubbing together as it made a beeline for the bushes and burst past Sahar, who dove underneath the bot. Just so avoiding getting his foot pierced by one of the creature's many clawed legs.

He stared up at Charlotte, eyes comically round and lips twitching into a smile. The barest flash of teeth. The bot’s underside pressed against the crown of his head and pushed a few short curls down over his forehead.

The corners of Charlotte’s mouth twitched. Warmth prickled over her lips and trickled down her throat, like a swallowed sunbeam kiss. Too hot and too sudden not to burn.

“Danger passed.” The bot announced, all eyes flashing red in unison as it reactivated with a cheerful chime. “Requesting help.”

Sahar flinched, startled as a mouse caught by Mr. Mittens the orphanage’s cat, and hit his head on the bot with a dull metallic thud.

Charlotte winced in sympathie. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, uhm, yes I, I am.”

“Good. Then let’s hurry and get out of here. That rustbucket is not worth ending up as insect foder for.”

A few more frantic cuts, almost devoid of Sahar’s previous gentleness, finally freed the bot from its botanical contraption. Sensory scanners already focused on the next plant to tend to, the bot got ready to stalk off when Sahar grabbed him by an arm. Long fingers wrapped around mud stained metal.

“Way- way- wait. We have some fields you can, can can- that you can tend to.”

Twelve glowing eyes seemed to consider him for awfully long, silent three seconds.

A ‘for fucks sake, Sahar, just move’ burned on the tip of Charlotte's tongue and she was just about to cross the concrete and drag him back behind their border, when the bot chimed.

“Friend identified.”

A soft smile blossomed on Sahar's face. All half hidden teeth and tenderness and Charlotte knew; they would not rake in any rewards today.

#some flowers have teeth #whump #mutant whumpee #mutant whump #whump writing #post apocalypse whump #post apocalypse #post apocalyptic whump #post apocalypse writing #robots #bots #gardening robot #gardening bot #sahar made a new friend #bby your doing amazing but maybe concentrate more on making more human friends?#just saying #garden bots are known to be great conversationalists

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