#they can just spit venom at each other and then carry on like it never happened | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

another-lost-mc · 1 year

Text

feel the heat: newspaper club edition

mephistopheles turns to you in a moment of desperation.

pairing: mephistopheles x afab!reader

content: nsfw. explicit smut. poly!reader, demon heat/rut cycles mentioned. demon form!mephisto. derogatory language, cursing, sexting/dick pics, first time, frenemies to lovers.

word count: 3.3k

feel the heat series: the demon brothers | the royals edition

You passed Mephisto in one of the hallways of RAD long after classes ended for the day. You were on your way to the student council chambers, and you guessed he was on his way to the Newspaper Club office. He was distracted and walked right into you. He hissed when you made contact with his chest, and he skittered back like you burned him.

You're surprised by the anger in his eyes, but there’s sweat beading along his hairline and he’s panting. You recognize the dark haze clouding his vision, and you try not to stare at the outline of his half-hard cock in his pants.

Your voice is almost shrill when you ask why he’s still on campus when he’s obviously unwell. He shouldn’t be here in his condition, and you tell him that, as kindly as you can.

He clenches his jaw and grits out that it’s none of your business.

Fair enough, but he’s the one who was stupid to come to campus like this.

He looks insulted when you ask him if he has someone to help him with his little problem, and he glares at you.

You offer to help him if he has no one else, and his stunned expression would be hilarious if it were any other circumstance.

He spits more venom at you about how you’re just some meddling human pest and how he wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty by touching you. He nearly shoves past you as he carries on to finish whatever’s brought him back to school in this very volatile state.

You’re not sure what to think, and you know your concern for him is unwanted. You stare at his back as he stalks away, but he doesn’t spare you another glance. He turns the corner and disappears from view, and you listen to the sound of his boot heels clicking on the floor until you hear nothing. It’s like he was never there; he leaves no trace of his presence behind except for the sting you feel from his rejection.

It’s a few hours later when you’ve settled in for the evening and try to forget what happened earlier. You’re watching a movie in your room when your phone buzzes beside you. You’re not sure who’s texting you at this late hour. It can’t be one of the demon brothers - they would just let themselves into your room if they wanted to see you.

You certainly don’t expect to see the name that flashes across your screen.

Mephistopheles: If I send a car for you, will you come?

You can’t contain the surprised laugh that bubbles out of you, because it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever said to you. Why would he do that now, after his scathing response to your offer earlier?

You point out how much of a hypocrite he’s being and ask what his problem is. He might be hot and you might want to get to know him better, but you also know that you deserve more respect than the less-than-bare minimum he’s shown you.

Mephistopheles: You’re annoying and you get on my nerves, and you’re stubborn and naïve and so painfully human it hurts to look at you.

You: Okay…?

Mephistopheles: And I see the way you walk around RAD, sashaying those fucking hips. I hate the way your ass fills out your uniform. And you’re so clumsy! Do you constantly drop things so everyone has to see the way your perfect fucking tits strain the buttons of your blouse when you bend over?

Mephistopheles: Do you know how tempting it is to push you over a desk and fuck some sense into you when you’re too cheeky for your own good?

Mephistopheles: I’ve spent all fucking night thinking about your lips around my cock. I hate how much I want you.

Mephistopheles: I want you. I want—fuck.

Your eyes widen with each message he sends. Your throat’s gone bone-dry and suddenly it feels a little warm in your room.

His next message contains a photo.

He’s laying on a bed in a dark room. He’s still in his RAD uniform, but his pants are loose around his hips and his fly is down. His hand - his bare hand, glove tossed aside carelessly - is wrapped around his cock. It looks painfully hard, and there’s a thick stream of cum dribbling from the tip. It looks like he’s come more than once already in an attempt to find relief on his own, like he has a craving only you can satisfy.

You wish you could tell him to fuck off and invest in a good fleshlight if he wants to get off so badly.

You wish you could forget about his filthy admittance of how he thinks about you while he jerks off, and how he’s practically begging you to come fuck his brains out.

You wish you could go to bed and forget this ever happened, but you know you’ll be fucking yourself on your fingers while you stare at the picture of his cock and regret not accepting this very tempting offer.

You wish you were stronger than this, but you’re not - not when you’ve wanted him for so long, and now he’s finally giving you a chance.

You: I’ll be waiting outside in five minutes.

Mephistopheles: The car is already on its way.

Arrogant prick, you think to yourself, but you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling.

The ride to Mephisto’s grand estate isn’t as awkward as you think it will be. The car he promised arrives moments after you step outside, and the driver says nothing about your attire when he opens the door for you. You’re still wearing the t-shirt and loose sleep pants you planned to wear to bed. You didn’t see any point in dressing up for the occasion - you won’t be wearing your clothes for long, anyway.

When you arrive, the driver opens the door and offers you his hand. He tells you where you can find Mephisto - up the main staircase, the room at the end of the hall to your left. The house is quiet and you don’t see or hear anyone else, but you assume his family is giving him space and privacy to deal with his heat how he sees fit.

(You’re not sure you want to introduce yourself as his booty call when you’re wearing pajamas, so you think it’s for the best.)

It wouldn’t be difficult to find his room even without directions. When you reach the second floor, the air feels thick around you, like a warm fog. Mephisto’s natural scent and the spicy traces of his cologne grow stronger with each step you take and it leads you right to his bedroom door.

You can hear the faint sound of bed springs squeaking inside his room and animalistic grunts that punctuate the rhythmic slick stroking sounds of skin-against-skin. The noises stop abruptly when you knock. There’s a rumbling purr just on the other side of the door, and when it opens suddenly, he pulls you inside.

Mephisto crowds your back against the door and it slams shut behind you. He’s still wearing his uniform slacks, but at some point he removed his shirt. His bare chest is sweaty, and his belly and pelvis are slick from when he jerked himself off for relief before you arrived. He’s never looked so sloppy before, but there's something gratifying about seeing the real him and not the perfect, superior demon he pretends to be.

You brush your hand through his sweat-soaked hair to sweep it away from his eyes, and he groans and leans into your touch. He buries his face into the crook of your neck while his hands explore your body over your clothes. He sniffs at your skin like he’s trying to breathe you into his lungs, and he licks over your pulse point.

“You came,” his lust-thickened voice rumbles close to your ear, and your shiver while you stroke his naked back.

“I did.”

He leans stares into your eyes. They’re blown black with lust, but you feel seen by him. “S-stay?” he stutters like he’s having difficulty speaking, but you know what he’s really asking you.

“As long as you want me to,” you murmur before you lean forward to kiss him gently, almost nervously because you’re not sure if he’ll reject you even in his heat. But he doesn’t - he leans into the kiss and whimpers against your lips before he pulls away.

One of his hands slides under the waistband of your pajama bottoms, and you gasp when two of his fingers drag across your slit. You didn’t realize how soaked you were until he touched you. His fingers stroke between your entrance and your clit, not focused on pleasuring you exactly, but more likely he’s surprised - and flattered - that you want him this badly.

“So wet,” he moans against your skin, and he grinds his cock against you, making a total mess of your shirt.

You can’t help but breathe out an airy chuckle as his fingers continue to stroke you. “You have a filthy mouth on you when you’re horny,” and you cup his cheek. He huffs in amusement but doesn’t deny it.

He explores you a little more, but then he withdraws his hands from between your legs abruptly. You nearly whine at the lost contact, but he holds his fingers up for both of you to see. They’re glistening with your slick and the smell of your arousal hangs heavy in the air between you. You would be embarrassed if not for the way Mephisto sniffs the air and licks his lips. He holds your gaze as he pops his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean.

You bite your lip to keep from moaning, but it doesn't completely silence the aroused noise you make. He’s filthy and gorgeous, and his mouth hangs open like he still can’t believe you’re really here. His eyes lack the bitter disapproval he normally shows you, and you know that at least for tonight, he wants you just the way you are.

In a sudden wave of confidence, you reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head quickly. You let it drop to the floor, and you try not to squirm too much when his hungry gaze trails down your body so he can stare at your breasts. He reaches for you and cups each of them in his large palms. His touch is gentle and exploratory, and he sighs while he squeezes the soft flesh. He pinches one of your nipples and you gasp. His eyes snap back to yours, and he does it again; you arch your back into his touch, a silent plea for more.

He steps closer and bends his head low so he can lick at your breasts. He swirls his tongue around each of your nipples and you cradle his head to your chest so he knows you like it. He draws one hardened nipple between his lips and sucks on it gently, and he pinches the other with his fingers.

It’s a wonderfully delightful sensation of pleasure with just the hint of pain, especially when he pinches too hard when you moan loudly into his ear. He hums around your nipple just to see if you’ll moan for him again - of course you do - and he growls his satisfaction. One of his fangs brushes against the sensitive skin of your breast, and you know he won’t hurt you, but the reminder of his demonic nature and inherent power leaves you breathless.

Desire rolls off him in waves, but you’re on the verge of begging him to fuck you. His cock throbs and twitches against your hip when he grinds against you, and you know you’re dripping-wet for him. His earlier teasing did nothing to quell the throb of your clit and you feel desperate for some kind of friction. Every time he moans or grunts as he fondles your body or plays with your breasts, your walls clench uselessly around nothing.

He grins when he realizes your growing desire mirrors his own. His mouth trails between the valley of your breasts and up your neck. The path is littered with tiny marks he's nibbled or sucked into your skin. His hands slide under the waistband of your pants and over the curve of your ass. He gropes you, squeezing and kneading your body greedily, and he drags you closer.

“Need you,” his deep voice rasps against your ear. As soon as you nod because you need him too, he slides your pants over your hips so they fall down your legs and pool at your feet. You step out of them gingerly and head towards his bed, but you realize he isn’t following you.

The question you're about to ask dies in your throat when you look over your shoulder. He’s standing eerily still by the door, and his eyes are staring at you so intently that you feel vulnerable. His hungry gaze roams up and down your body, and you can see his eyes linger on your face, your breasts, and the mound between your legs. You guess that strange feeling of being watched a few moments ago was him staring at your ass, too.

Mephisto loosens his pants so they fall down his legs, then he slides his boxer briefs off too. He straightens and rolls his shoulders. There’s a hum of energy and within the blink of an eye, his horns and tail have emerged. You try not to gape openly at his demonic form but you’ve never seen him properly before.

He’s beautiful, and you want him.

You sit on the edge of his bed, and you both stare at each other. His tail flicks behind him and you can hear him purring deep within his chest. You spread your legs wide and ignore the way embarrassment burns your cheeks. He moves quicker than your eyes can track, and he’s suddenly standing between your legs and staring down at you with so much hunger you can hardly breathe.

He leans forward and clasps your shoulders with his hands, and he urges you to lay down. His hands trail over your body and he slides them under the curve of your ass and up your thighs. He maneuvers your body how he wants you until your legs dangle over his shoulders. You’re utterly trapped beneath him while he kneels on the edge of the mattress.

One of his hands holds your hips down to keep you steady while the other guides his cock through your folds. He drags himself up and down your slit, and you moan quietly when he brushes across your clit with the slightest bit of pressure. He does it again, and you whimper.

“Please,” you whisper, and you’re reduced to begging now. You were promised a thorough fucking, and you feel like you’re about to lose your mind.

He’s the one in heat. He’s the one that should be begging to be fucked, not you.

There’s something predatory in the way he tilts his head and watches you beg for his cock, and his body grows completely still. When he snarls and buries himself to the hilt in one rough stroke, you choke on your cry as your body stretches around his cock.

Oh, you never should have doubted him.

He's relentless when he fucks you, and his pace is fast and brutal. He takes you with powerful strokes that punch the air from your lungs. The rough drag of his cock brushing over that spot inside you has you keening every time he thrusts inside with a sharp snap of his hips.

His eyes are nearly eclipsed by his blown black pupils and he pants loudly from the exertion and pleasure of finally claiming you. His bedroom fills with the wet, obscene sounds of his skin slapping against yours and your wet hole squelching around his cock.

He can’t seem to decide where he wants to look. His eyes flicker between your mouth and your bouncing breasts, then he finally looks down so he can watch his cock glide in and out of your body. His cock is coated in your creamy slick, and he growls with satisfaction when he sees your arousal leak from your hole and spread messily across your skin.

He’s gripping your thigh so tightly that you think - you hope - his fingertips will leave bruises later. His other hand guides your hip back and forth in time with his thrusts so he can bury himself deeper every time his cock slams inside you.

Your hands are clenched in his sheets. You’re powerless to do anything else but arch your back and cry your pleasure while he fucks through the haze of his heat.

His movements grow more desperate and he's losing his rhythm - you think he’s getting close. He’s still staring at the junction between your bodies, mesmerized by the sight of his cock claiming you over and over and over.

Your clit throbs as your own desire threatens to consume you, and you reach down with one hand so you can stroke yourself in time with his thrusts. You tilt your head back and your moans grow louder, and you start chanting his name breathlessly as pleasure courses through your veins. Your fingers massage your clit faster because you’re so close you can almost taste it. Your body shakes, but he’s holding you so desperately that it keeps you grounded. You feel your walls flutter around him as the first waves of your release start to crash over you—

A loud growl startles you, and you open your eyes and stare up at him. He was watching himself fucking his cock into you with abandon; now, his heady gaze is locked onto yours. His body is trembling nearly as much as yours is, and he grits his teeth and bares his fangs at you.

“Come for me,” he rasps, "come on my cock." It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard, and there’s no possible way you can deny him that, not when you’re still touching yourself and you’re right there on the edge—

He fucks you through your orgasm, delaying his own pleasure so he can revel in the feeling of your walls squeezing him even tighter than before. You let your hand fall away from your clit, and you blink at him with watery eyes and pouty lips. He finally spills himself inside you, claiming the deepest parts of your body for himself. He pants loudly as his hips come to a stuttering halt and the aftershocks of your orgasm milk his cock dry.

You feel exhausted and weightless and pleasantly full. You raise your arms high over your head and arch your back into a delightful stretch. The sweat on your back makes his sheets stick to your skin, and you squirm a bit on his cock. You gasp when you realize he’s still completely hard inside you, and his grip on your body tightens when you try to shimmy away.

“More,” he mutters harshly under his breath, and his smirk turns feral. His eyes are still black and hazy from his heat. He reaches for your hand and guides it back down between your legs. He laces his fingers through yours and slides them through your sticky, wet folds. Your fingertips graze the base of his cock that’s still sheathed inside you and he moans. He moves your hand back up to brush against your clit and he moves his hand away when you start touching yourself again.

You exhale a shaky sigh and rub lazy circles around your sensitive clit. He looks so pleased with your obedience that it makes your cheeks burn from his unspoken praise.

He can't kiss you in this position, but he turns his head and nips at the skin of your leg still draped over his shoulder. It feels like a filthy, silent promise that he'll never go through his heat again without you.

He starts rocking back into you, slower and more gently than before, and you roll your hips to encourage him. You whimper his name and he starts to move in earnest.

It's not long before he consumes you once again, and all you can see and feel and hear is him.

read more: mephistopheles masterlist | obey me! masterlist

#obey me mephistopheles #mephistopheles x reader #obey me x reader #obey me mephisto x reader #obey me smut #mephistopheles smut #x reader #afab!reader

2K notes · View notes

suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

Text

nìmal

nìmal [nɪ.ˈmal] adv. trustingly, without hesitation

Anonymous Request: Can we have one where Neteyam and Omaticayan reader love each other very much. But a guy likes the reader and tries to break them up by making neteyam think that the reader is cheating on him. He gets really angry and accuses the reader of cheating. Like there's a big fight. But later he learns the truth and tries to make it up to her and she doesn't make it easy on him.

Neteyam believes a rumor about you, and when he finds out the truth, you're reluctant to forgive him for his bad behavior.

932 words

Your bag is so full of fish that you aren't sure you're going to be able to carry it back home, but you can't stop.

Throwing the spear, hearing that satisfying thwack when it connects, getting to put your body to use, it's easing some of the tension you're carrying.

"Idiot!" you exclaim, though whether you're directing that at the fish or not, is unclear.

How could Neteyam believe you would even consider betraying him? Have you not been loyal to him, promised to him, in love with him completely? Does he know so little of your character that he is willing to believe you would give your body to another - to someone you are not mated to?

Just the thought of it disgusts you. His confrontation yesterday has left a sour taste in your mouth, and you feel so angry and hurt, you don't know how to release these emotions.

Kiri assured you she would fix it, but it's been an entire day, and you haven't seen Neteyam. Plus, you aren't sure if she can fix it - even when Neteyam realizes he was wrong, some damage has been done.

You catch another fish, add it to your bag, and decide to head home. This isn't helping anything.

Neteyam arrives just as you try to hoist the bag over your shoulder, and you freeze when you see him.

He watches her from behind the trees for a while, listening to her cursing at the fish she's killing, knowing she's picturing him in their place.

He winces with every kill.

He deserves it. He will curse himself until the day he dies for what he's done.

It's hard to explain it, even to himself. He just hopes she'll listen.

The glare she gives him when he approaches is almost lethal. "Can I carry this for you?" he asks, and the bag thuds to the ground again.

"No," she replies, spitting venom through her perfect teeth.

"Okay... can I explain myself?" He lifts his hands up, palm out, surrendering to her.

Not only is Y/N beautiful, but she is lethal. Most of the Omaticayan women are fierce, but something about Y/N gives her an extra edge. She is quiet, thoughtful, and dangerous. He's almost a little scared, which is part of why he's always been so attracted to her.

"You can apologize," she replies, standing straight, arms crossed over her chest, waiting.

"I am sorry, Y/N. Not only did Marek confess to me what... he said happened, but many confirmed it. It seems, you made some enemies, and one um, admirer. They were all too willing to confirm his story for him."

"None of that should have convinced you, Neteyam," she replied, so evenly and calmly that a chill ran up his spine. "You should have trusted me. You should have trusted how I feel about you."

"But you, Y/N," he rubbed his forehead. "You almost never tell me how you feel about me. You're very hard to read."

Her back stiffened, and her mouth opened a little as if to speak, and then closed again.

"Oh..."

That wasn't at all what I had expected Neteyam to say.

Though I felt very sure of my love for him - had I not done a good enough job ensuring he was sure of it, as well?

I tried to think... how many times had I told him I loved him? Not very many. But, how many times was I supposed to? Did he have a greater need to hear it than I realized?

"Still," I replied, still processing. "You wouldn't even listen to me, Neteyam."

He stepped forward. "That was wrong. I was wrong, and I should not have doubted you. It will never happen again."

You felt crushed by the look on his face. You tried to put yourself in his place; if he was feeling unsure of your affections, and so many people were lying to him, maybe it was easy to be confused?

"I would never want to be with any man, besides you," you said finally.

Neteyam stepped a little closer still, tentatively.

"I want to be your mate, Neteyam. It is all I have ever wanted. I am angry at you, very, very angry... but I see maybe I haven't made how I feel clear, to you. It all get stuck, up here." You point to your head, and you see Neteyam's expression relax.

He reaches out and takes your hand, and you allow him to pull you close.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I trust you fully, and I will never doubt you again."

"I will... I will tell you how much I feel for you every day, if it helps."

He smiles, and squeezes your hand. "You don't have to say it every day... if you don't want to."

You reach out, running your fingers from his temple to his chin.

"I could show you, instead."

His brow perks up, and his smile grows.

"Yes, that could be good."

You lean in, pressing your lips gently to his, and he takes your face gently into his hands, and then wraps his arms around you as the kiss deepens.

When you pull apart, you are both breathless and smiling.

You bend down, picking up the bag of fish, and thrust it into his arms.

"You may carry this, and then consider yourself forgiven."

He bows under the weight of it, but dutifully carries it the long walk home for you.

Neteyam never doubts you again, and you show him just how much you love him every day.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar 2 #avatar twow #avatar the way of water

1K notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Text

Wishbone.

You meet Bucky and Steve while on the run. The three of you quickly learn that nothing is more violent than love.

Based on the poem Wishbone by Richard Siken. Lines taken directly from the poem are in bold. If you're interested, you can read the full poem here.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - 18+ - blood, cursing, guns, sexual content. this is a little dark. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Word Count - 3617

Author's Note - my god I had fun writing this. wishbone is my favourite poem ever, and I reread it a few days ago and had a vision of nomad steve and bucky on the run and just had to turn it into something. if you haven't read the full poem, I'd highly recommend!! this is darker and a bit more jagged than my usual fluff but you know, versatility and all that. I strongly believe that Steve was feral while on the run - he has to crack at some point. I mean you can only be squeaky clean for so long, right? as always, thoughts, questions or requests, send them my way! feedback is massively appreciated always <3

Masterlist. Requests.

You saved my life he says I owe you everything. You don’t, I say, you don’t owe me squat, let’s just get going, let’s just get gone.

You met them on a bridge in the middle of the night somewhere in Europe.

All three of you running from your sins.

Steve and Bucky had bolted the minute they refused to sign the accords. They were under the impression they’d all go together – Team Cap, side by side.

Wanda and Vision left them first. Natasha next. Lastly, Sam.

Steve and Bucky were the only ones remaining. It started with just the two of them. It would end with just the two of them.

Your ankle cracks and splinters as you barrel forwards over the bridge. Gunshots rain down around you, like some sort of lethal meteor shower. You don’t know how they found you. These remainders of the past won’t leave you alone. They’re shooting at you, four of them, these grown men firing their guns at this runaway girl.

The broken bones finally give way, and you slam into the concrete, head bouncing off the surface. The road is warm under you, and you relax into it, ready to surrender to your fate.

A fate which never comes. A strong, metal arm grabs you by the bicep and pulls you up, your ankle sending strokes of pain lashing through your whole body. You’re screaming, and you’re thrashing, and there’s blood pouring into your boots. Your cries for help are ignored as the man throws you over his shoulder and starts running at an inhuman speed.

He keeps sprinting, heavy shoes hitting the ground with every step, the impact rattling up into your bones. Everything is hazy and nothing makes sense and the lights of the city are blinding you as you’re carried by the stranger. You don’t know if he’s saving you or kidnapping you or both or neither.

A blond man appears, running next to the brunette with the metal arm. You’re thrown from one man’s shoulder to the others, as if you weigh nothing. As if you’re worth nothing. Just a girl caught in the crossfire. A victim. If only they knew.

Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood.

You passed out sometime on the journey, the men’s heavy steps lulling you into unconsciousness.

One minute, you’re being thrown around like a ragdoll, and the next you’re waking up on the floor of a dingy motel. You think you might be in Berlin. Or was it Brussels? It didn’t matter anyway. Doesn’t make a difference.

The carpet is sticky and caked in dirt and patterned like it was made in the 70’s. You wake with a jolt, gasping for air. The blond man is nowhere to be seen. The brunette is sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with careful blue eyes.

“Why am I on the floor?" you ask, venom dripping from each word. “You couldn’t throw me down on the fucking bed?”

He scoffs and shakes his head.

“Your boots are filled with blood,” he spits. “Better on the carpet than the sheets.”

He crosses the room and kneels down in front of you. He cautiously unties your left boot and pulls it off. Then he unties the right one, the broken one, and yanks it off with a careless hand. You grit your teeth and hiss, hand flying out to fist into his shirt.

“Asshole,” you mutter. “That fuckin’ hurts.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he replies. “It’s fractured. Smashed to pieces, actually.”

He grabs your boot and walks over to the tiny sink in the corner of the room. Turning it upside down, he watches as your blood pours out.

“Shit, girl,” he mumbles. “How are you still fightin’?”

You think you hear a New York accent. Brooklyn, maybe. It seems to come out in waves, a slight twang every now and again. His raspy drawl vibrates through your stomach, right into your core. He’s handsome. He’s battered and bruised, clothes ripped, hair mussed. But he’s handsome.

“I’m tougher than I look,” you retort.

He chuckles, and it makes you want to rip your clothes off.

He comes back to your place on the floor and yanks you up by your arms. He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, ignoring your groans and protests. He grabs you by your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Stop fuckin’ wincing,” he snarls. “I’m trying to help you.”

You figure his help is better than nothing. You go pliant, and let him assess you, only whining when he presses his thumbs into a sore spot.

I’m always saving and you’re always owing and I’m tired of asking to settle the debt.

Steve has always loved playing the hero. It’s the role he falls into naturally. Bucky does too. After everything he’s done – been forced to do – it makes him feel good to save people now.

Maybe that’s why they saved you.

They watched you run from those men, four vigilantes out for blood. Bucky and Steve had gone out to kill them, to get them off their backs. As soon as Bucky had seen you fall, he was moving at the speed of light, barrelling across the bridge to scoop you up and out of the crossfire. Steve just watched, shaking his head. Buck had always been a sucker for a pretty girl.

They don’t question why you were out there, fighting men with your bare hands. They don’t wanna know. Frankly, they don’t care.

“What the fuck?” Steve asks when he swings open the door to the motel room. “She’s still here?”

“Her ankle is all messed up,” Bucky replies. “There’s no way she’s walking. We can’t throw her onto the street. The rest of them will come for her.”

Steve’s rolling his eyes as he walks over to where you’re unconscious on the bed. He grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you up level with him. You startle awake, and stare daggers into his pretty face.

“What did they want with you?” he spits.

You glare at him for a solid minute, but he doesn’t crack. He wants answers.

“Pissed them off, I guess,” you snicker. “They tried to hurt me. Hurt them right back but harder. They didn’t like it.”

Bucky’s watching the two of you interact, his head tilted to the side. He’s not quite sure how this is going to play out. He can’t wait to see.

Steve surveys you, eyes scanning your face methodically. God, he’s tired of playing nice.

He grabs your chin firmly, forcing you to open your mouth. He stares into your soul, as if daring you to defy him, before he spits onto your tongue, never once breaking eye contact. You swallow, holding his gaze – goading him into making another move. He slams his lips onto yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth, claiming you as his. You suppose you owe him this, at least. He did save your life, after all.

I say I want you inside me and you hold my head underwater, I say I want you inside me and you split me open with a knife.

This is how it always goes. Your new normal.

The three of you run from city to city, country to country, never staying in one place for too long.

They marked their claim on you that day. All of you without a place to call a home – so you found it in each other. And what a fucked up home it was.

Somewhere along the way, you realise you’ve changed. Not just mentally, or emotionally. But physically. You’re taller, stronger, able to run faster. You’ve gone through some sort of metamorphosis and you don’t know what it is but you like it.

You’re in Colombia, in a motel room, naked from the waist up and sat in Bucky’s lap. You can’t tell where you end and he begins. Just the way you like it.

“I’m different,” you tell him, and he nods his head.

“Why do you think we saved you?” he replies.

He straightens up to sink his teeth into your shoulder, right next to the bite mark left by one of them the day before.

“You are different,” Steve tells you as he walks through the door. “It’s our fault. Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, with no real apology in his voice.

Both you and Bucky turn to look at him. Where did that cut on his cheekbone come from? Blood is dripping down his face, and your mouth waters. You want to lick it off.

You crawl to the end of the bed and rise onto your knees, before grabbing Steve, both hands twisted in the front of his shirt. You run your tongue from his jaw to his temple, savouring the taste of copper. Fuck, he tastes so sweet. They both do. You’d drink it if you could.

Steve moans, and the sound makes your legs weak. He fists a hand into the back of your hair and yanks, exposing your throat to him. Then, with no gentleness whatsoever, he scrapes his teeth along the side of your neck, bruising as he goes. You’re purple and red and tender and sore and your big doe eyes are looking at him like you want him to eat you alive. It takes everything in him not to devour you whole.

Bucky doesn’t possess the same amount of self control.

He yanks you back by your wrists, pinning you underneath him. He crawls along your body, and catches your underwear in his teeth, dragging them down and off. He looks hungry. No, he looks feral. It’s animalistic, this connection the three of you have. It’s sharp and bloody and jagged and raw and it makes you want to cut them open from head to toe so you can live inside them forever.

You hate this life and the fact everything is temporary and you hate that you have nothing. Not really. You’re not even one hundred percent sure that these two men wouldn’t leave you if they got offered something better.

But for now, you let them get lost in you. In each other. It’s all you can do to stay sane, in this life spent running and hiding.

Will you let me kiss your neck, baby? Do I have to tie your arms down? Do I have to stick my tongue in your mouth like the hand of a thief, like a burglary like it’s just another petty theft?

You’re in another motel room. This time, Argentina.

The three of you are sat on the bed. The wound in your side is gushing, and Steve has his hand practically in your rib cage, trying to quell the opening.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s alright, it’ll stop soon. The advanced healing will kick in any minute now.”

Advanced healing.

It’s something you’d known for a while. Something you’d never brought up with them, just in case. But here he was, telling you like it was nothing.

“I’m a super soldier, aren’t I?” you gasp out between raspy breaths. You’re not actually in that much pain, you’re just panicking. No one should be able to lose this much blood and heal like nothing ever happened.

Bucky nods his head from where he’s sat behind you, chest pressed to your back. His strong arms are keeping you still while Steve plays doctor.

“We didn’t mean for it to happen, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear.

“It was probably Brazil that did it,” Steve chimes in.

Brazil.

Bucky had been shot and you’d been stabbed and Steve was bleeding for some reason too.

You’d crawled to Buck, throwing yourself on top of his body. Your wounds were both open and your blood was mixing together and you couldn’t tell whose flesh was whose.

You’d stuck your tongue in his mouth and he drank you down, blood and dirt and sweat be damned. Steve yanked you both up and threw an arm under each of you, practically dragging you to safety. You were painted in crimson and dripping with the evidence of your love.

Yes. It was definitely Brazil that did it.

“I didn’t even know that was possible,” you utter in disbelief.

“Honestly, neither did we,” Steve replies.

“But now you’re one of us,” Bucky murmurs. “The three of us. The same.”

He’s kissing your shoulder and you’re squirming because you can feel your skin healing, patching itself back together slowly.

“Let him kiss you, baby,” Steve urges. “Do I have to tie your arms down?”

“Yes,” you beg. “Please. Do it. Please.”

Bucky twists your arms behind you and locks them into place with his metal hand. You can’t go anywhere. You don’t want to.

Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in?

One day, somewhere in Alaska, Steve finds you crying in the bathroom.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, and you don’t recognise what you see. You have scars scattered across your face, your hair is darker than it’s ever been, and it’s shorter from where Bucky took the scissors to it. Who are you? What have you become?

“Now isn’t the time to have an identity crisis, darling,” Steve says when he enters the room in his boxers.

You nod, and smile, and sniffle, taking a deep breath.

Steve walks over to you, placing you effortlessly to sit on the counter. He stands between your legs and cradles your face in his gun calloused hands.

“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he reassures into your mouth.

Leaning forward, he runs his tongue up your cheek, catching the tears as they fall. He grabs your chin with one hand, and tugs your pants off with the other.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry.”

It feels like love when he sinks his teeth into your neck so hard, he draws blood.

and with this bullet lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because it’s all I have, because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own.

You crack on a random Tuesday afternoon in Bulgaria.

You’ve been shot at one too many times. It’s not something anyone should ever have to endure. The bullets have carved you out and left you hollow. There’s only so much blood you can lose.

The three of you are sat with your backs against the door of the dingy motel room. Just minutes prior, there had been men banging on the wood, demanding to know where Captain America was hiding.

You hadn’t heard that title in a while.

America’s Golden Boy. If only they knew.

If only they knew how he craved the taste of blood now.

If only they knew how he’d lick the sweat from your neck and keep on going.

If only they knew how the fear turned him on.

Being on the run had taken Steve’s golden blood and turned it black. He didn’t mind. Neither did Bucky. Neither did you.

This was out of your wheelhouse, though. Bucky had gone through wars, been on the run more times than he could count. Steve, too. You, however, were different.

You weren’t 100 years old. You’d been a super soldier for a matter of months. You’d gotten into trouble, pissed off the wrong guys, and it had spiralled out of control. Now, you’re hiding from six armed men with Captain America on your left and The Winter Soldier on your right. How times change.

It all explodes suddenly, and you can’t contain it anymore. You jump up, gun in hand, tears sprinting down your cheeks. You’re pointing the weapon at them, and you’re not sure why. But you’re angry. And upset. And so in love with the both of them it’s driving you crazy.

“Tell me you’re not going to leave me,” you threaten, pressing the barrel of the gun against Steve’s chest.

“Sweetheart-“ he starts, but you cut him off.

“No. Tell me you’re mine. Promise me you’re not going to leave me.”

You’ve still got the gun pointed at Steve, but now you’re grabbing Bucky by his hair, forcing him to look up at you.

“Both of you. Promise me.”

They aren’t looking at you like you’re crazy, or unhinged. They’re looking at you like they’re proud of you. Like they want you. Like they love you.

Steve kicks you hard in the shin, making your legs give way. You’re flat on your back now, and Bucky’s moved to pin your arms above your head. His full weight is pressing into you, and his blond counterpart has crawled to yank your head into his lap.

“We’re yours, baby,” Bucky murmurs against your lips.

“We’re not leaving,” Steve adds from where his forehead is pressed against yours.

“And you look really fucking hot pointing a gun at Steve,” Bucky smirks as he kisses along your neck, sucking a bruise as he goes.

“Asshole,” Steve retorts, but he’s smiling. Not that golden, Captain America smile that everyone’s used to. No, this is different. This is a dark, jagged smile, that’s equal parts cunning and broken. It makes you shiver. But you’re not scared. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this bullet inside me ‘cause I couldn’t make you love me and I’m tired of pulling your teeth.

Somewhere in Croatia, you watch Steve and Bucky almost die.

Bullets are raining down, and you’re surrounded on all sides. You can’t see past the swarms of armed men, and you’re bleeding but you’re not sure where from. Steve and Bucky are trying their best, but they’re losing. You’re all losing.

You don’t know where it comes from, the rage. One minute, you’re down on your knees, breathless and sweating. Next minute, you’ve elbowed a man in the face and stolen his machine gun. You’re gunning down men left and right, ignoring their pleas for mercy. The ceiling is raining blood and you’re dripping crimson. You’ve never looked more beautiful.

By the time you get to Bucky and Steve, the abandoned garage looks like a slaughterhouse. You’re stepping over bodies like you’re in a cemetery, your eyes glued to the two people you did all of this for. They’re looking at you like they’re scared of you. Finally, you think. They see me.

If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand. Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now? There’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet staring up at us like we’re something interesting.

The three of you hijack a cabin in rural Canada.

You’ve been walking through the forests for days when you come upon a small wooden lodge with smoke pummelling out of the chimney. Respite.

Bucky shoots the man point blank when he answers the door. You leave him dead on the porch and make your way inside. It’s cosy, all flannel patterns and fur rugs. You could get comfortable here.

You shower while Steve cooks you dinner. Buck finds decent whiskey in a cabinet, and the three of you take turns drinking it straight from the bottle. You all sit on the floor, legs tangled, warming up by the fireplace. Steve falls asleep, and you step outside to get a breath of fresh air.

The dead man is still on the porch, staring up at you.

“He looks peaceful,” you say to Bucky, who’s appeared silently behind you in the doorway.

“He probably is,” he replies. “God knows anything is more peaceful than this life.”

You charge at him, and bite his lip so hard he whimpers. He takes you right up against the front door, frosty cold biting into your back. Steve watches through the window.

This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.

When Steve and Bucky get called back to SHIELD, you get scared.

You’re not exactly an upstanding citizen. You’re the furthest thing from an Avenger. SHIELD are going to take one look at you and lock you up for the rest of your life, you’re sure of it.

The boys won’t let that happen.

The two of them argue about going back for days. You get caught in the crossfire. You’re used as an excuse, a bargaining chip, a distraction. You’re a tactic, both of them trying to use you against the other.

Eventually, Bucky cracks. Maybe it’s because your lips are on his neck and Steve’s are on his stomach. Maybe it’s because he’s tired of fighting.

“Fine, Stevie. Fine,” he sighs. “But if it all goes wrong, I’m taking her, and we’re running. I ain’t dealing with all that shit again.”

Steve nods in agreement, and shoves his tongue in Bucky’s mouth.

The three of you decide you’ll go back together. You make a deal – you’ll refuse to be separated. If you have to fight, you’ll fight as one. No one’s going to tear you apart. Not even death.

Steve cuts his palm first, then yours, then Bucky’s. You join hands, and promise that no matter what happens, you’ll always choose each other.

Blood drips down your wrist, and Steve catches it with his tongue.

Both men look at you with their big blue eyes, and you know nothing is ever going to hurt you as much as love does.

510 notes · View notes

sugarcherriess · 1 year

Note

I am just dropping in and then saw your event 👀 so I'm thinking tsundere adonis and relentless fool in love hyunjae and the first time tsundere adonis tells him you love him and his reaction 🥺 - 🥛

😡😡😡😡 i made it not soft at all as retaliation because a confession would NEVER go down well between us

Relentless Fool In Love!Hyunjae x Tsundere!Adonis:

cw - smut, very specifically catered to me, please do not proceed, i slap a bitch, yes its in third person, cameos by milk and pup, an ongoing breeding thing, cnc? I don’t know what to call it bc we all know i consent to fucking him more than anything else

The story revolves around a very stupid boy Hyunjae who keeps bothering an orb of spite and hatred named Adonis

He tries his best to make their life a living hell

By acting hot asf but also adorable like how does that WORK?

And being generally the perfect fit for them

And wearing shit that makes Adonis’ blood boil

Because Adonis is just as stupid but their pride is the size of mount everest

But then so is their possessiveness

Anyway thats not the point of this story

Or is it?

Hyunjae has two main minions (affectionate): milk and pup

Milk and pup help Hyunjae’s loser ass try to score Adonis every chance they get

If they don’t get a chance

They make it

Their techniques include:

Texting Adonis about how large Hyunjae’s shoulders are?

Telling Adonis how Hyunjae is the best person to raise a family with

Also finding out personal preferences from big mouth Adonis and snitching to Hyunjae

So Hyunjae can use them against Adonis

“Why the fuck are you going around telling people you’re gonna start a family with me?!”

They slam his dorm room door and burst in uninvited

“Because I am,”

His annoying smile spread on his annoying loser face

“Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be associated with you around campus?”

Adonis yells in his face

“Thought that was a kink of yours?”

His eyebrow raises in interest

“What?” Adonis asks incredulously, “How could you possibly think that?”

“You’re so easy to read, bunny,”

Adonis is flabbergasted

“Who the fuck said you could call me bunny?”

His smug ass sends a stupid loser smile Adonis’ way

“I have my sources,”

“I will destroy your sources,”

He gasps, scandalised

“You will do no such thing,”

“Watch me,” Adonis spits venomously

“My lovely sources will mention you carrying my babies slightly and you’ll crumble, don’t act so big and bad–“

Adonis shoves him against a wall before he can finish the sentence

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

“Hmmm,” he puts a finger on his chin and pretends to think, “No!”

“I swear to god, I’ll fix your head on a spear and hang it off the college roof,”

He bends his face to look Adonis in the eye

“So intimate,”

Adonis tells him to shut up again

But ofcourse

He doesn’t

“Admit it. You’re in love with me,”

He fold his arms and leans against the wall

“And why the fuck would I do that?”

“C’mon bunny, I know you wanna be mine. Why do you play so hard to get?”

Adonis would roll their eyes hard enough to risk dislocating them from their socket

“Is that one of the fantasies you use to fuck your hand at night?”

“Not really,” he shrugs, “I mostly think about your mouth on the other end getting stuffed by my cock–“

His face whips to the side from the sheer force of Adonis’ slap and his tooth accidentally cuts his mouth

“You disgusting piece of shit,”

Hyunjae laughs as a bit of blood drips from his lip

“I was told you’re into blood too… nature’s giving you a perfect chance to kiss me,”

Adonis slams his shoulders against the wall again

“I would rather take a shot of snake venom neat and die,”

“Aren’t you full of heat,” Hyunjae giggles mockingly, “We’re perfect for each other,”

“I wouldn’t choose to spend five minutes with you let alone an indefinite eternity,” Adonis scoffs,

Adonis would be all smug and continue

“Besides, I already have my eyes set for Juyeon. I believe his star athlete genes would be perfect for my children,”

Hyunjae’s eyes darken then

He grabs Adonis’ arm and quickly spins them around so their back is to his chest

And their arm is bent in a way that they can’t move without breaking it

“Let me go you fucking freak,”

“Don’t you know how much I love you? Why do you always bring up Juyeon?”

“I said let me go,”

“Never. It pains me to leave your side. You know what I have to do because you won’t let me be with you? I sneak up to your dorms every night and watch you sleep,” He seethes in their ear

Adonis futilely tries to escape his hold

“You know something? Even unconscious, you beg for me. Wanna tell me what that’s all about?”

Adonis whines when he bends their arm more to get a reaction

“You sound exactly like that, begging for me over and over again. Do you dream of my cock? Is it me stuffing your womb full every night?”

Hyunjae wraps his free hand around Adonis’ neck when they begin to shake their head, cutting off their blood supply and making them lightheaded

“It could be your reality if you’d just be a good bunny for once and eat your useless pride,”

“S-stop calling me bunny,”

They’re almost on the verge of passing out

“Why? Does it make your fertile little uterus pulse? Does your pussy widen on its own to welcome my cock? Does your body’s reaction to such a simple term embarrass my baby?”

Adonis’ head falls in shame because it’s true and it’s fucking stupid

He bites their neck hard enough to make them scream

Hyunjae’s hands sneak down to cup their crotch

“I can already feel you drenching your panties. A little birdie named pup told me they’re always pink. Shall I investigate the claim?”

He doesn’t wait for a response before bending them more and ripping away their tights

“So it IS true! So cute!” He coos, infuriating Adonis even more

His hands would be all over their pelvis and thighs

His stupid beautiful hands that caress everything like its made of satin in its most beautiful form

“Touch me and I’ll scream,”

“That’s what I plan to do,” he would reply in a single breath

And continue shredding the unfortunate piece of white tights that showed the bright pink panties underneath anyway

But he just loves being extra doesn’t he

He would push his annoying face into places it should never be in: Adonis’ covered cooch

“Hyunjae get off!”

But he’d just ignore all of their pleads in true Hyunjae fashion and continue onwards

He’d take his time and efforts lapping at their folds through the fabric

He wants Adonis to feel truly filthy

Like he knows they are

Hyunjae would push his tongue into the crevices of their lower half that make way for his appendage like sired vampires

But body parts

His evil ass would stiffen his tongue and play with their clit through their underwear because ofc he knows it’s sensitive 👍🏼

When he’s done being a little bitch with his mouth he’d suck on his fingers and shove them inside the only cavern within his vision

Already braindead Adonis would only be able to cry at the intrusion of his fingers inside them without prep

“I find it personally offensive if any part of you is left unfilled by me,”

“Hyunjae–”

“I know you want this,” he’d push Adonis into the wall so they’re completely suffocated by him, “You can’t bullshit me darling, I know you better than you know yourself,”

“Jaehyun oh my god–“

The pace of his fingers would be brutal leaving Adonis panting and twitching

Their sad little orgasm would be ripped out by his stupid fingers from the deepest pits of hell

“I’m gonna–“

They wouldn’t be able to finish their sentences without shrieking

“Tell me what I wanna hear. I won’t hold your orgasm hostage just stop running from me,”

Adonis may as well be sobbing

“Wha-t… what–ah, what do you want me to s-say?!”

“Tell me you love me. I know you do,”

“Jaehyun,” they’d whine losing their sense of self

“Say it!”

Hyunjae would bark, his patience tested to the max

“I– I can’t,”

Hyunjae would smush his face in their neck, exceeding his speed

“Won’t you be my good little bunny and tell me you love me?”

Milk i hate you for doing this to me

“I do! I love you– oh my god– Iwantyousobad,”

Adonis would cum right then

Both left panting from exhaustion and disbelief

“That wasn’t so bad now was it?”

“Jaehyunie~”

Yeah Adonis is. They’ve lost it

“What? What does my bunny want?”

“Wan’ your c-cock,”

“My cock? Why do you want it?”

He’d know but being an asshole is a way of life he can not refuse

“Want it to breed me…”

Adonis would probably be incomprehensible at this point

His loud annoying laugh would ring in the entire room

“Where's your bite now huh? Your snarkiness? Where did it go? Did my hand fuck you that dumb that you don’t even remember your pride?”

Adonis would start crying at being teased at such a vulnerable state

And push him away to leave the room

“I k-knew you only wanted to humiliate me! I. I hate you!”

He’d grab their arm and pull them back

Wiping their tears away and cooing at them again

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way, bunny. I just thought I should rub my victory in since you’ve been depriving me from it for so long,” he’d raise an eyebrow bc well. It’s a logical response.

Adonis would still be pouty and upset

But it’s okay

They’d end up with loads of kisses on their wet teary face

“Maybe if you confess again, I’ll breed you the way both of us want?”

“Why? Won’t I get it otherwise?”

“You will but I also need proof of my victory to send to milk and pup,”

“Excuse me??”

“Now,” he’d push the recording button on his phone, “What was it you were babbling to me while I was making your toes curl and legs close with pleasure?”

Goodnight!

9 notes · View notes

dumbpsterwrites · 5 months

Text

Eternal Return

Celia swings her guts in a plastic shopping bag, out for a morning stroll, carries her head on her hip in a laundry basket. One of the glittering green eyes has been pecked out by a crow she didn't see coming. An eyepatch covers the maggoty ooze where it used to be. Peckered chaps with their jaws swinging loose to their collarbones waggle demented tongues through claws as she clacks down the street in stillettos. Her good eye narrows as she shifts the basket to the other hip so it won't see, and their lidless peepers roll back in their heads to shutter themselves from the intestine hissing forked lightning, the stomach gurgling and clapping rolling peals of thunder.

Whore, spits a younger bird. Her head bares its teeth as she hurls it by the hair, snarling and ripping one of the wings with it as the creature takes flight. It flaps the other around squawking in lame agony on the pavement as the body in the flowered dress scoops up the head and tucks it under an arm. The rest of the ragtag flock disperses like dandelion puffs into the baking afternoon.

She drops her keys in front of the apartment building. A pigeon swoops around and drops them in her waiting palm. The head smiles its sweet, one-eyed smile. The pigeon coos and flies away.

Inside, she slips off her shoes and sets her head on the counter, rolling it so the good eye can see. The hands fumble with the shopping bag. lifting out each squelching organ, coiling and squishing them all back in, buttoning the blouse and tying an apron securely around her waist to taper things into place. It is almost noon.

Her soul is on the mantel. Mechanically tipped head over heels to run out again, curves drawn in parting like twin goblets, sinking sands pool like a storm washed over her feet. It sputters and coughs up a dust devil, throat gravel, growls, Let me rest, but the eye that watches hears nothing, the hand is deaf that flips it to sift through another twenty-four hours, another lifetime, eternal return bottled. Looming in the glass, the distorted reflection of the headless housewife pours a glass of wine down its esophagus. Lungs gurgle with spillage and phlegm as the body sways and folds backwards into the nearest armchair.

The TV has been on all morning. She flips on some music channel and turns the volume up. The thumping melts, heady, static surf, into the thick, lackluster heat. She never watches TV, she just likes to hear it. She picks up the head, shuffles from the kitchen to the pantry. Nothing entices. She thinks maybe nothing ever will again. Boredom digs like the corner of a table angling into her side. All is bright, harsh, dry, but her guts are leaking through the flowered dress again. She needs a nap. Sleep rolls in like a fog as she crawls into the king-sized bed.

A butcher with his knife crashing through the door, ready to carve her up. Every night he comes, every night she arches, hissing, spitting venom, clawing for his eyes as he climbs into her bed, eyes hidden, averted, straddling her with the cleaver, raising it above his head...hacking, hacking, her head rolls away, stopping against a table leg, tilted up, and she watches his face contort, the beak-like nose, drawn out to meet beasty underbite, her eyes cold as obsidian, as the bird-man holds her wrists above her body and rips into the torso. Then she swims in that room, she watches, floating above that unholy meal, the butcher, vulture, limbs like a spider, tearing innards, all hot breath and blood-hunger, hands digging. ripping. tearing. ripping. tearing into her chest.

She wakes with the crack of her rib cage, splayed wide and breathless. Her husband is home. He finds her awake, strokes her hand, kisses her forehead, knowing and not knowing what she dreams of. He is a kind man, and won't ask. She'll get up and sit with him a while, until it's light again.

#writers on tumblr #tw violence #tw gore #psychedelic horror

0 notes

sableseb · 3 years

Text

Birthday Boy

ceo!Steve x f!reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: smut, affair, dirty talk, biting, titty fucking, slight cock warming, choking, belly bulge, praise

tags: @meetmeatyourworst @sparksforkoo @fuckandfluff @harrysthiccthighss @bemine-bucky @greeneyedblondie44 @thewritingdoll

a/n: @mickey-henry this one’s for you! I hope I was able to bring your fantasy to life. Sending all my love to you!.x

This internship is stressful. Always on your feet, fetching papers and files, getting coffee for the higher ups, making sure schedule’s are as they should be. It gets tiring at times, the long days and even longer nights. But, one thing that keeps you going? Steve Rogers.

Your boss invades your thoughts even when you aren’t at work. Sometimes you would dream of what it’d be like to live a domestic life with him. You like to think that he’d be the most caring man, always looking out for you, waiting on you hand and foot. It causes a deep longing in your chest each time you’d let your mind ponder on him.

The thoughts sometimes spiraled into darker places. You’d fantasize about him with your hand between your thighs late at night. You’d imagine that they were his fingers instead. Those thick digits running up and down your damp folds before he’d push them inside you, stretching you in a way you never could on your own. Then, his mouth would soon follow, lapping at your clit until you came with a wail around those plump lips.

Reality would soon sink in after your high. You will never have Steve. Not only is he your boss, but he’s married to a beautiful woman who he seems to love dearly. No matter how much you pray, how much you dream, you’ll never come home to him. It always stings more than it should.

“Here’s the second part to Mr. Rogers’ meeting list. Make sure to look over this thoroughly before giving it to him.” Cindy said before placing the sheet on your desk. You always carry a smidge of envy towards her. She’s older than you, lean with sultry eyes and a crooked smirk. She’s never said a mean word to you and for that you’re so thankful because she makes your job a lot easier.

“Will do,” you smile.

Skimming through the dates and times, you realize just how busy Steve is. The man is always meeting with someone from a different business. Does he ever find time for himself? Doesn’t seem like it. And you thought you had it rough being an intern. You could never handle being a CEO.

You make sure no meeting is scheduled twice and no meeting overlaps another one. It’s not hard work, just tedious. Seriously, how does he know so many other bosses? It just makes your admiration grow for him. He’s a busy man and yet he’s always finding time for his employees if they need it.

It feels like hours pass over constant typing and printing when really, with a glance at the clock, it’s only been forty five minutes. With a huff, you move your neck from side to side, trying to relieve some of the ache. You can feel a knot at the base of your back start to make itself present, your eyes are dry from staring at a screen and your fingers are stiff from typing. You decide to go and drop off Steve’s revised schedule so you can move around and change your scenery.

Heels click on the glossy floor as you make your way to the boss’ office. There’s a pep in your step at the prospect of seeing him, even if it’s just for a few fleeting moments. It’s embarrassing really. How easily a married man turns you on, how easy it is to dream of a life with him. You’ve tried to force those feelings down, but each time you catch a glimpse of those blue eyes, they all bubble to the surface.

As you turn the corner to his office door, you stop. His voice is stern, spitting venom at the poor soul on the other end. Peering in the doorway you see how worked up he is. He’s running his hand through his blonde hair, he’d unbuttoned the first few buttons of his dress shirt, revealing deep collar bones and the top of his firm pecs. He looks good. Too good to be this angry.

There’s already a wetness pooling in your panties as you listen and watch him intently. You’re crumpling the papers in your hand, clenching them each time his tone rises. You could get off to this sight alone, him at his desk, deep set brows forming a scowl, eyes dark. What you would do to get on your knees for him, make him forget why he’s mad in the first place. Or, maybe you’d let him fuck all the rage out on you. Let him use your body for stress relief as he’d fist your hair and smack your ass. Let him bruise and batter you as you beg him to be easier when really you’d want more.

“I’ve told you. I just want you home when I’m home. You know it’s hard enough to find time with you as is.”

Home?

“I work. For you and you can’t be there for me?”

For you?

“You’d rather be with your friends than your fucking husband?”

Husband.

You realize that he’s talking to his wife. You should leave immediately. This sounds way too personal for your ears and yet, you can’t seem to move. You want to hear this because you could’ve sworn they were the perfect couple, but as you continue to eavesdrop, you soon find out how wrong you were. The glowing marriage you thought they had turns out to be filled with pleading, anger, and ultimately, pain.

“You can come out now, y/n.”

Your stomach drops, skin heating with embarrassment and shame. You should’ve left. You just blew a once in a lifetime internship because you were nosy. He’s going to fire you and tell every office in the state that you’re unprofessional in a business setting. You make your way into his office with your head down, lip taking the brunt of your harsh chewing.

“Shut the door, please.”

He doesn’t sound upset. More like amused and that just makes you even more of a nervous wreck. You shut the heavy oak door with a silent click before turning and facing him head on. His smirk reaches that glint in his eyes as he takes in your body. Steve knows what he does to you. He’s not oblivious to the way you clench your thighs and how your eyes sear into the back of him when he’s not looking.

He loves it, revels in the way you practically purr when he’s near. How you shy away from his presence. It’s something he’s missed dearly, having a beautiful woman pin over him. It’s what his wife hasn’t done in months. It’s like he’s invisible to her and it hurts more each passing day. But, you. You see him. Not only his looks, but his heart as well. He’s noticed it since you walked that pert ass through those elevator doors wanting a job. And little did you know, he sees you too.

“Curious little thing aren’t you?” He says, humor lacing his words. “I guess it’s partially my fault. You’d think I’d learn to shut my own door.”

“Sir, I’m sorry. Really. I was just going to drop off your schedule and I didn’t want to barge in while you were on the phone and-”

“y/n,” he cuts you off. “It’s okay. I promise. Just...keep what you heard between us, yeah?”

Relief courses through you. Not only is your job not in jeopardy, Steve’s not upset with you either. For some reason, you’re more elated over the fact you didn’t make him mad. Nothing would hurt more than his disapproval. You needed him to praise everything you do, see you in nothing but light. You craved to be in his good graces.

“Of course. Here.”

Handing the papers to him, his fingers brush yours and he doesn’t move them away. That slight touch sets a trail of heat along your body. His eyes bore into yours and you’re positive he can tell exactly what he does to you as the white sheets hang between both of you. His eyes start to roam over your face for a brief moment before sliding down the length of your neck and landing on your chest. A lump starts to form in your throat as he blatantly stares at your rounded breasts concealed and outlined by the white button up you adorn.

Suddenly, he’s looking back up at you with a grin. “You’re dismissed now, y/n.”

Removing your hand from his, you whisper, “Yes, sir.”

You briskly walk out of his office, wishing he hadn’t sent you away, wishing that he’d of taken out his frustrations on you instead. You can’t believe he did that. Does Steve really have an attraction towards you? Sure he’s thrown you a few sideways glances and smirks. But, he’s never been so blunt. Hope flutters in your chest at the fact that maybe, just maybe he enjoys looking at you.

That feeling doesn’t last long before another emotion starts to rise. How can a wife ignore a husband like Steve? It makes you angry. He’s her husband. Her insanely hot and kind husband at that. She doesn’t deserve him, not after what you overheard.

But, did he deserve you? Did a man trapped in a sad marriage deserve another woman to keep his cock warm? Would you keep his cock warm if he’d ask? Sick realization hits you. Of course you would. You’d do anything to keep Steve happy, anything to make your fantasies reality.

~~~

The floor of the office is buzzing when you step off the elevator. People are decorating the halls with streamers and signs, there’s others carrying various food trays, a “Happy Birthday!” sign is being hung over the entrance. You’ve never seen this place so lively and you've been here for a little over a month.

“Cindy, hey. Who’s birthday is it today?” You ask upon seeing the brunette. She’s really the only person you classify as a friend in the office.

“It’s the boss’. Rogers turns the big three eight today. We always celebrate birthdays. Gives us all an excuse to have a lazy day. Plus, he never minds.”

“You guys always go this hard on the decorating?”

She smirks. “Always, newbie. We’re fun when we want to be.”

“Hopefully I’ll be around for more birthdays then.”

You both say your “see you later’s” before making your way to your desk. You’re not in the mood to partake in the festivities. You just want to finish up what you need to and go home. Spend your night with a warm bath and a glass of wine...and try to get Steve out of your head.

He’s been more talkative to you since that day in his office, where he looked at you as if you were ripe for the picking. His touches seemed to linger more, his gazes became more heavy. He takes over all your senses and makes you leave all your morals at the door. If anyone found out about this unspoken attraction you both harbor for each other, HR is sure to intervene and boot both of you.

You don’t know what flipped inside him to make him more brazen towards you. Maybe it’s the fact you now know his love life isn’t existent, even with a wife. Maybe it’s because you’re the only person he can confide in who will make sure to keep up his “perfect home life illusion.” Whatever the case, you love and hate Steve’s sudden interest.

Love it because he makes you feel things you’ve never experienced with anyone else. Even the people you’ve dated never had your stomach twisting in knots, your mind wondering to them and all the nasty things they could do to you. Hate it because he’s never far from your thoughts. The longing continues to grow to have him, the forbidden fruit of your life.

The office erupts in singing as Steve walks into the main room. As the lyrics of “Happy Birthday” bounce off the walls, you look up from your computer and take him in. He looks genuinely appreciative that his employees are celebrating his day. His smile is bright, eyes shining in delight. That navy blue suit is hugging him so deliciously. Those thighs are screaming to be rode. God, you’re pathetic.

He spots you and suddenly his smile dulls as he takes you in. The singing voices fade around him. You’re looking as beautiful as ever in your white blouse he loves so much. You stop your ogling when he catches you. It makes his pants tighten when you get timid towards him. But, he knows that below the shy exterior is a vixen wanting to act on her most sinful desires. Your eyes give you away each time. He plans to unleash her, pleasure her, and use her for a release his own fucking wife hasn’t gave him in months.

The singing stops. Claps and cheers replace it as Steve waves and shouts a thank you to everyone. You look back up and see him make his way to his office. Everyone chit chats and goes to the break room for food. Cindy wanted you to come join, get to know more people, take a break from working. You just couldn’t. You don’t feel like meeting anyone new at the moment. You need to get your work done as fast as you can so you can get an early start on the weekend. Get away from this office that houses your twisted fixation.

The clock continuously ticks and pretty soon you’re the only one in the building left. As per usual. Finishing things up quickly went out the window. The filing and typing took longer than you initially anticipated and the sky already turned black. Shutting your computer off, you grab your purse and head for the elevator.

A light from the hall catches your attention. Nobody is ever here this late except for you. As you look closer, you notice it’s coming from Steve’s office. Your heart quickens, blood rushing to your ears. You’ve never been alone with him. You should go, turn and go home to your much desired wine and bath. But, you don’t. The thought of having your boss alone to yourself, even if it’s just for a quick bid good night, has butterflies erupting in your stomach.

You tentatively walk towards his office. Peering in, you see how disheveled he is. Jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up and shirt open. Face scowling as he looks at nothing, seemingly lost in his own head with a glass of alcohol in his hand. This is as vulnerable as you’ve ever seen Steve. He shouldn’t be here. He should be out celebrating, his wife should have been expecting him, having him a birthday dinner prepared.

“Mr. Rogers? It’s late. What’re you still doing here?” You call out to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He takes a swig from his drink before huffing. “I don’t have anywhere else better to be.”

He seems so disheartened. It causes you to ache for him. A desire to make him feel better takes you over. You quietly ask, “But, your wife, wouldn’t she be expecting you home? It’s your birthday.”

Steve emits a dry laugh causing embarrassment to kick in. It was a stupid question. You have a suspicion she doesn’t even care. “Please. I couldn’t get lucky enough to have her give a single fuck.”

“If I were her, I’d give a fuck. I’d make your birthday as special as possible.” The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. You can’t say things like that. There’s a line and you certainly crossed it. But, the way he's eyeing you now, with genuine interest, you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“Yeah? How’d you do that exactly?” He asks with a sickly sweet grin.

Swallowing the tingle in your throat and gripping the strap of your purse to ground yourself, you say what you’ve always dreamed of uttering to him. “Anything. I’d do anything you wanted me to, sir.”

You start to sweat as he takes his lip between his teeth, contemplating your dirty secret. “Anything you say?”

Steve watches as you nod. You’re putty in his hands. You always have been and it’s been so painfully obvious to him. You’ve always been his obedient little intern and now, he gets to make you more. He gets to make you his twisted obsession, help you with the ache that he knows forms in your core when he’s around, turn you into a sex crazed woman who knows what she wants and how to take it.

“My sweet girl, always putting my interests first. Why don’t you come make yourself comfortable on your knees for me?”

You never thought you’d see the day where Steve wanted you, where he’d act on his needs. It’s like you're in a dream as you step towards the man that’s sitting behind his desk, drink still in hand as he eyes you hungrily. Your whole body is on fire, pussy dripping at the thought of him taking you right here in his office.

He turns his chair to face your approaching form. Your purse lands with a thud on the floor and just as he asked, you fall to your knees before him. Steve watches the intense rise and fall of your chest. You’re nervous. Good. He wants to keep you on edge. “Mmm. Good girl. Now, unbutton your shirt. Slowly.”

You do as he says. Trembling fingers undoing each button at his desired pace. You watch him sit his drink on his desk before getting comfortable and bringing his hand down to languidly stroke his hardening cock through his pants. Getting off on your little strip show.

One by one, more skin starts to show before you take your blouse off entirely. Leaving you in your tight, white bra, pencil skirt, and heels in front of him. The cool air pricks at your exposed skin, nipples hardening under the almost sheer material.

“Aren’t you a sight?” Steve groans, his praise causing you to involuntarily clench around nothing. You get bold and move to unbuckle his pants, but he stops you.

“No, baby. You said anything, right? I wanna fuck those pretty tits before fucking that tight pussy.”

A gasp leaves you. How you’ve longed to hear such filth fall from those pink lips. You know after tonight, you’ll never be the same. He’s already ruined you for all others and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Your mouth starts to water at the sight of him pulling his pants down his thighs and pulling his cock out of his boxers.

He’s long and ridiculously thick. You have an urge to shove him down your throat, gag around him as he forces himself in and out of your mouth. But, if your chest is what he wants, he’ll get it.

“Take your bra off.” He says, pumping himself and watching you with hooded eyes.

You reach around and unhook the fabric that’s clung to your frame. You discard it on the floor and crawl directly between his thighs. You hear him suck in a breath. Your chest is perfect. Full and round. He can’t wait to wrap his lips around those tight peaks.

He takes his cock and lines it up between each breast. You bring your hands up to cup them and push them together to encase his length, causing him to let out a shaky breath. Steve starts to pump himself through the silky flesh. You’re forever burned into his mind, on your knees, moving your breasts along with his thrusts, pretty doe eyes looking at him full of innocence despite the debauched activity.

Each time his tip pushes through the top, you lick at the slit. Precum and spit start to coat your breasts and chest, leaving a wet trail that has him gliding through with ease.

“You like having my dick between these tits, don’t you, filthy girl?”

“Yes, sir.”

Steve can feel his orgasm creeping up. He pulls away from you. He doesn’t want to paint your chest, no. He wants to paint the inside of you. Have your wet cunt milk every last drop of cum from him. He wants you shaking and begging beneath him.

“On the desk, baby.”

You stand with shaky knees and pull yourself up on his desk. He follows you, coming to stand between your thighs. He stares at you for a moment before leaning in and planting a kiss on your mouth. It’s slow and tantalizing. The feelings you have for each other surfacing as his tongue finds yours.

You pull him into you, chasing his mouth with your own. He bites at your lip before sucking and then moving to do the same to your neck. Your soft moans echo around his office and those pretty sounds make him impossibly harder.

He pushes your skirt up around your waist and takes your panties down your legs till they fall past your heels. “You’re soaked, baby,” he groans. His eyes feast on your pussy. You’re puffy and swollen, needing him to relieve the throbbing.

Taking his dick in his hand, he glides it through your folds, swirling the tip around your clit before landing a few slaps on your pussy with his leaking member. You shake with each tap, needing him to fill you up till he’s leaking out of you.

“Steve. Please. Need you in me.”

He chuckles against your neck and bites your skin once again. “Tell me,” he whispers, “how many times have you dreamed about this, about us? How many times have you fingered yourself to the thought of me pounding into you? Going to bed with an ache, knowing your tiny fingers can’t reach that spot that would make you scream like my cock can?”

You groan at his words. You should be embarrassed yet again over him knowing how you lust over him when you're alone. But, you’re not. It turns you on knowing how transparent you are to him. He knows what you need, what you crave.

“All the time. Please, please fuck me,” you cry out.

Steve shows you mercy, granting you the stretch of his cock. You cling to him as he feeds himself inch by inch into your soaking heat. You’ve never felt so full, so covered. His entire body shields yours, looming over you in a way you find comfort in.

“Such a tight pussy. Gonna fill her full, have you walkin’ out of here with my cum dripping out of you,” he rasps.

He starts to move. You can feel each ridge, each vein pass through your walls. It has you arching against him. The burn is desired, the fullness bringing tears to your eyes. Hooking your legs around him, he places one hand under you and the other firmly around your neck.

“Faster. Use me,” you gasp.

You’re perfect for him. He needs this, needs to get lost in your tight cunt and forget about his problems. He pushes you down forcefully onto his desk, hand still tight around your throat. He grabs your hip with the other and starts his brutal pace.

You're screaming with each harsh snap of his hips. His hand starts to add more pressure, causing you to let out gasps instead. You can feel the cool bite of his wedding band against your neck. It reminds you once more that he’s not yours.

He watches in a trance as your breasts bounce with each thrust. The same breasts he almost came between moments prior. Leaning down, he bites on the soft flesh. The little nibbles and sucks have you arching towards him. Then, he takes your nipple between his lips and you instantly clamp around him. Causing him to do the same to the other, wanting to feel your walls tighten around him again and again.

“You’re taking me so well. Feel how deep I am?”

You can’t see it, but he can. Each time he sheathes himself inside of you, the faint outline of his dick appears. He runs his hand over the bump. It makes him grunt and start fucking you faster. Seeing you so full has him rutting into you in a fury, wanting nothing more than to fill you with his warm seed.

Steve’s hitting that spot he mentioned over and over again, making your legs shake and head feel light. Then, he takes his fingers and starts rubbing your clit fiercely. You can hear how wet you are. Even over the sound of blood rushing through your ears from his hold on your neck and the inevitable orgasm approaching, the sound of your arousal is unmistakable.

“Know you wanna cum. Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my dick.” He says through clenched teeth as he fucks you rough and fast. You can’t warn him that you’re cumming. It hits you too hard as your whole body seizes beneath him.

He pulls you against him, slowing his thrusts down to draw your orgasm out. He feels the way you pulse around his shaft, causing him to bury himself inside you as his balls tighten and he lets go with a whimper.

You hold him to you, letting him empty himself and find comfort in you. As you both catch your breaths, he’s still inside you. He pushes your hair off your face before placing a gentle peck to your lips. The gesture makes your heart soar. Then, ache soon follows. You want this every day and not just the lonely nights.

“Happy Birthday, Steve,” you tell him.

The smile he gives you is lopsided and boyish. That smile is something you never get tired of seeing. “Thank you. You made it better, that’s for sure.”

He pulls out of you and helps you into your underwear, making sure all of him stays in you as a reminder of who ruined you. You both redress in silence. The weight of your actions hang heavy in the sex scented room.

“What about your wife?” The question burns your throat and tears start to form. But, he needed to be asked.

Steve comes to you, hushing you gently as he wraps his arms around your body. “I’m done trying with her. She’s made it abundantly clear I mean very little in her ‘busy’ life.”

You bury your head into his chest, never wanting to leave his warm embrace. His words have you a bit more calm, hope still blooming that he’d pick you over her. “Hey,” he says, slightly pulling away from you so he can look at you, “what do you say to a proper date when I inevitably separate from her?”

“You’re not leaving her because of me, right?”

“What? Of course not. This has been going on for months. Pretty sure she’s cheating on me. It’s about time I man up and do what’s right for me.”

You pause for a moment, taking in his words. “And what is right for you?”

Steve’s blue eyes sparkle as he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars. “You of course.”

You stand on your toes to kiss him, savoring the taste of his lips. You don’t know how well this relationship is going to go over, or if it’ll even last, but you’ll always take a chance on love no matter the outcome. And Steve Rogers is worth the unknown.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut

2K notes · View notes

randynova · 3 years

Text

♡𝓜𝔂 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷♡

𝓖𝓾𝓷 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝐺𝑢𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔(𝑠):𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡(𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝)! 𝐺𝑢𝑛

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

“Why couldn’t this have waited until another day?” Gun muttered, unbuttoning his shirt, letting it slide off his taut frame, and neatly folding it, placing it onto the roof of his car. He was glad he hadn't put his jacket on, having left it in his passenger seat. “I can’t dirty my clothes again, [Name] will be mad if I get blood on it.” He rolled his broad shoulders until they released a satisfying crack, his thick muscles bulging as he stretched his arms across his scarred chest. Gun peered at a nearby store, the digital clock displaying in big white numbers, ‘7:45 PM’. He groaned, his lips curling into a scowl whilst his arms fell to his side. He didn’t have enough time to deal with this.

“Hmm, and it’s almost time for our date. Fuck.” Gun whispered to himself. He clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes at the man across from him. He removed his shades and revealed his dark gaze, placing his favorite accessory to his side as well. “I’ll make this quick, Goo. I have more important places to be.”

Goo laughed, grinning in his spot as he balanced a pole in his hands. He rolled his eyes, arching a brow at his partner. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Gun, maybe if you didn’t spend all your time by [Name]’s side, we could have dealt with this matter much earlier. That girl has you wrapped around her pretty little finger, huh?”

“Shut it,” Gun said, already racing towards the blonde and thrusting his fist, knuckles colliding with metal. Upon the cold sensation meeting his skin, he wanted to absolutely kill Goo and rip him to shreds. This would take longer than he wanted, wasting his already precious, short time. He backed off, having a considerable distance between the two, stretching his fingers a few times before clenching them again. He growled, spitting venomously, “You just like picking fights.”

“You did too. Before you met her, y’know,” Goo tutted, waving his finger in the air. He scoffed, voice low, “Who would’ve thought? Gun going soft for a girl. Psh, pathetic. Never thought I’d live to see the day...” The blonde trailed off, his face becoming stoic, his mind wandering. You truly had to be someone exceptional if you managed to have a guy like Gun to fall for you. He always wondered who you were, how you looked like, what you did, but Gun had kept you a secret from the world of crime. He hid almost every known trace abou you and tied every loose end that implicated you existed. No one knew who you were and no one could find you — unless Gun allowed them to.

Goo found it so irritating how he was unable to know the girl who made such a notorious gangster go soft.

He only met you once and that was by pure sheer luck; dropping by unexpectedly at one of Gun's apartments, only to be met with the sight of you. Seeing how Gun reacted, he knew you were supposed to be kept hush-hush. But boy, did he have a field day the next time he saw the man.

Goo had to meet you again. Or at least, know you more.

Only when Gun’s fist connected with Goo’s face did the man snap out of his thoughts, the impact of such force throwing him a few feet backwards. He dug his feet into the floor, a high-pitched screech coming from his shoes as the rubber burned against the pavement. With his sleeve, Goo wiped his cheek, seeing a speck of blood staining his clothes. Goo chuckled, standing up straight with a grin, “If I can remember right, you told me you got Eli Jang in trouble for basically the same thing. What was her name again? Heather?”

Goo blocked the upcoming attack, his pole raised and crossed above his face. He pushed Gun back with an effortless swing of the pole. He tilted his head and scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “How is [Name] any different from Heather? What does she have on you?”

Gun twisted his neck gently until he heard a crack, looking back at Goo as he hissed with venom, “Nothing.”

“Let me think, let me think….” Goo hummed, racking his mind for any possibility that someone like Gun would stay with a woman longer than one night. His face lit up and he broke out into a wide grin, pointing a finger at Gun. “Aha! You got the poor girl knocked up, right?! See, I always tell you to wear protection! Just couldn’t keep it in your pants, hm? Shaaame.”

“Ugh, fuck no. I don’t want kids and neither does she. We made that clear at the beginning," Gun said with a sneer, annoyed beyond comprehension at Goo's antics.

“Awe, I really thought she held something over you. How about this: I’ll stop fighting you if you tell me why you’re still with such a pretty girl like [Name]? Deal?" Goo offered, slinging the pole onto his shoulder. His eyes darkened as he spat maliciously, knowing each word would wind and rile Gun's emotions. "She deserves better than a perverted gangster, you both know that.”

Gun stayed silent, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown. Goo’s last words struck a chord in him, sending a pang through his heart upon hearing an insecurity he’ll never admit to. Of course. Everyone told you to stay away from a man like Gun. People kept telling you you will only get hurt in the end, that a better man will come along and sweep you off your feet if you just waited, or you could always do better than him. But you never listened. You stayed by his side, even when the whole world looked down on you two. Even for months, he tried convincing himself he felt nothing for you, but after a while, he finally accepted that someone managed to tear down his walls and enter his hollow, cold heart — you.

You were just a different kind of girl - no- a different kind of woman. A special woman he had the pleasure of meeting. One he wouldn’t dare let go of now that he has the privilege of calling you ‘mine’. And by any god out there, he won’t be a stupid fool to lose you.

Gun sighed. “I tell you and you’ll put this stupid fight behind us, right?”

Goo placed a hand over his chest, replying shortly, “You have my word.~”

“[Name] is just that special person you meet once in your life. One you know you can’t let go of because there isn’t another like her. Simple as that.”

“What?! Ugh, don’t be boring! Tell me more!”

“You asked why I stayed with her and I told you.”

“Yeah, but I expected a story, not some sad attempt at an old man’s wise words.”

A low guttural sound rumbled in Gun’s throat, his eye twitching. “Maybe when I’m in a better mood I’ll tell you, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my woman.”

Goo groaned and tossed his pole to the side, rolling his eyes and grumbling, "Fiiine, but you owe me a story. "

"Whatever—damnit," Gun looked at the clock once again and his face contorted into one of pure irate. "I'm late."

'8:12 PM'

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Your head rested on your hand, balancing a glass of wine between your fingers, twirling the cup as the liquid swished around. Your eyes were looking down on the glory of Gangdong, the shimmering, blinding lights of the city mesmerizing you. The city always looked beautiful at this time of night. You just wished you could enjoy it with the person you cherished. A sigh leaves your lips and you look away, eyes trailing to the other tables over the balcony.

The lingering eyes of many strange men didn't faze you anymore, the two burly boys surrounding your table always making them avert their gaze as fast as it landed. A courtesy of your boyfriend, who was at least thirteen minutes late, who insisted on you needing to be guarded at all times. You knew if he were here, no one would dare to even breathe in your direction, let alone glance.

The cool air pricked your skin and a shiver passed through your body, reminding you of where you were. For a man as smart as him, Gun tended to neglect keeping the season in mind when planning your dates. Nonetheless, you were happy he went out of his way to take you out on such a busy schedule.

You jumped in your seat, snapping out of your thoughts. A jacket was wrapped around your frame, warmth immediately enveloping you as the fabric made contact with your bare skin. You looked up and smiled.

Gun stood behind you, towering over your sitting form as he made sure you were nice and covered. His coat basically swallowed you whole. A small stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, it’s fluffy fur peeking out. He walked over to take his seat, pulling the chair out, and wasting no time to slip in. He waved to the guards and they nodded, beginning to clear the scene of people.

“Sorry I’m late, [Name],” Gun started, taking the stuffie out from underneath his arm and presenting it to you. Oh, how adorable. "I brought you a gift as an apology."

A small brown otter sat in his palms, barely taking up Gun's hands. It’s beady, plastic eyes looked straight at you, a little smile stitched onto its snout. A snort left you. The sight of such a well-dressed, intimidating man carrying such an adorable toy was amusing. "Really now? Just a cute toy, Gun?"

Gun sighed and sat up a bit from his chair, leaning over the table, and cupping your face as he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As quick as it started, Gun's lips left and he was seated once again. You pout. "Don't give me that look, [Name]. We can do more at home if you want but not here."

"It's not wrong to be disappointed in no kiss on the mouth after not seeing your boyfriend for such a long time. Don't you think I deserve it?"

Gun smirked, placing his shades on the table and taking your hand, intertwining your fingers together. He gave a light squeeze and you didn't miss a beat as you squeezed his coarse hand back. The way you pursed your lips and looked at him with such glossy, innocent eyes made his heart swell. With such a pretty, cute face, it was hard to say no to you. "Hmm, maybe. But Olly told me you crossed paths with Hostel A." Gun spoke, slipping his hands from yours and picking up his dinnerware, quickly cutting the savory meat into pieces. He didn't hesitate to put a piece up to your mouth, a hand underneath so as to not have the juice leak. "I was told you nearly broke the Uncles' bones and Big Daddy himself."

Your face scrunched up and you scoffed, shaking your head. You placed the stuffed animal to the side, petting it. "Figured those assholes wouldn’t tell you everything. The ‘uncles’ wouldn’t leave me alone and I thought Olly was another one of those bastards,” you snap, sitting back in your seat with a scowl. “How was I supposed to know he was trying to help when he dresses like that? I thought he was trying to assault me for God’s sake!”

Gun placed down his fork on his plate and his face twisted into one of fury, eyes turning cold and rigid as all the warmth disappeared whilst his lips curled back into a nasty frown. You almost thought his infamous scowl was directed towards you, but you knew better. You dear boyfriend wouldn't dare lay a single finger on you if it didn't bring you pleasure. "They what?"

You smiled softly, placing your hand over his as it clenched into a fist. With your small attempt at trying to soothe him by rubbing small circles, you spoke with a bit of hesitation, "Ah, yeah. They kept trying to get my number and wouldn't let me leave the booth I was in. I had no other choice than to use the training you taught me. Since I never met Olly, I really thought he was just another one of them and I reacted before thinking, making me attack him too."

Gun scoffed, shaking his head as he listened to your explanation with disbelief, every word fueling his rage of someone daring to hit on his woman. Every fiber in Gun's body screamed, wanting to feel their skin underneath his fists as he pounded them into oblivion. But the only thing stopping him was his date with you. For now, he'll put his anger aside to be with you and keep you happy. Who knows how long he'll be gone and when he'll see you again. The man has to make every second count.

Yet, he couldn’t let this go unpunished.

"Fuck." Gun leans closer to you and sits on the edge of his chair. Placing his hand over yours, he slips his fingers to grasp your palm, and lifts your hand to his lips, pressing tender kisses against your knuckles. His thumb grazing softly across your fingers and his eyes flutter shut. You couldn't help but stare in awe, never quite seeing him like this.

So careful with you, so gentle, you were surprised he wasn't seething in his seat and threatening to break their heads open. Gun opens his eyes and looks up at you, shaking in his seat. “I promise I’ll have those fuckers begging on their knees for your forgiveness. They should know better than to treat a woman with such rudeness and disrespect. Shit, I’ll go right now. I’ll beat them till-”

Your sweet laugh reaches his ears, cutting him off from his little speech. You lean in and pull in his hand to your lips, pressing a tender peck to his coarse knuckles. Gun felt his heart race and skip a beat at the sight, shock crossing his features. You look up, looking at your boyfriend with mirthful eyes. “As much fun as that sounds, I'd rather you stay here. Please? I want to spend as much time with you before you go back to work.”

The man stayed silent for a few seconds, taking in your words. He looked away, clicking his tongue before he broke out into a small smile, a blush blooming across his cheeks and the tip of his ears burning a bright red. “Of course, [Name]. Though, you could’ve just said you like spending time with me.”

Giggling, you lower your hands and shake your head. “Gun, of course I like spending time with you. You’re my favorite person and I love you after all.” Your voice said those three words with such fondness, it’s as if the man was in a dream.

If your words from before didn’t send Gun over the edge, your proclamation of love surely did now. He looked down, grinning like an idiot, showing a soft, bashful side he’s never revealed to anyone before. He swore his heart would jump out of his throat from how fast it was pounding against his ribcage. Gun grasped your hand tightly and sighed blissfully, Gently, he spoke, gazing at you with loving eyes, “I love you too.”

You smiled.

The tension in the air grew to be too much and both of you found it unbearable, wanting to do what both of you have been waiting for for weeks.

Both of you sat up and leaned over the table, closing the gap between you two as your lips interlocked, slipping together like if you were made for eachother. The kiss sparked and fed the fire both of you held in your hearts, burning brighter with every moment you spent at one another’s side. Gun couldn’t help but smile against your mouth.

As much as he hated being apart from you for so long, moments like these made the long hours worth it. If working so much meant he could provide for you, then he wouldn't mind doing it for the rest of his life if you had a roof over your head and a nice, warm meal at night.

Afterall, you were his woman.

And he loved you.

✦✦✦✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 .

✦✦✦✦✦✦

#lookism #lookism gun #lookism x reader #lookism imagine #lookism imagines #gun lookism #jong gun #jong gun x reader #lookism fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction x reader #fanfic #lookism fanfic #x reader #reader insert #reader #reader imagine #gun imagine #jong gun imagine

767 notes · View notes

celestial-kit · 3 years

Text

Halloween Night

This is part one in a two part series. All characters are 18+.

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x reader

Warnings: minors DNI, slight NSFW themes, jealousy, alcohol consumption, slut shaming (?)

______________________________________________________________

Tsukishima never liked Halloween. As a kid, he never understood the appeal of dressing up in a ridiculous costume and going out with a pillow case to beg for candy. His disdain for Halloween did not dissipate as he got older, he just found new things to be annoyed with. He hated how his friends begged him to go out to the crowded bars, dressed up in matching costumes. He hated watching people use the holiday as an excuse to get drunk. And he hated that every year you would dress up in some skimpy outfit and find some random guy to make out with.

He wasn’t jealous, obviously. Tsukishima just didn’t like seeing one of his close friends embarrass herself like that. He hated to see you get so sloppy drunk that you couldn’t walk home at the end of the night, and he hated seeing strangers grope and paw at you in your little skirt and grind against you every chance they got. One year he found you in a corner in someone’s lap, tongues shoved down each other's throats and your skirt hoisted up around your waist, showing off your sheer underwear and dripping pussy. He left you there, seeing as you seemed content with the arrangement, and found you the next hour in someone else's arms, their hands under your top, groping your breasts as your head fell back on your shoulders with a blissed out look on your face.

You were a slut. Tsukishima hated to admit it, but you were. You loved the attention you got when you went out, you welcomed any advances from any decently attractive person, and you had no shame letting someone publicly defile you, as long as it felt good.

This year, his friends decided that they wanted to dress up as the gang from Scooby Doo. Tsukishima was quick to decline, but the excited look on Yamaguchi’s face and your puppy dog eyes made him give in quicker than he would like to admit. So now he was here, at this bar, dressed in an itchy white sweater and orange ascot. He nursed his drink at the bar as he watched you, his Daphne, laugh at a joke that probably wasn’t even that funny that some guy told you as he leaned close enough to cast his eyes down your cleavage. You slapped his chest flirtatiously as he seemingly teased you for something before leaning down closer and capturing your lips in a kiss, his hand immediately running up the backs of your thighs until they were under your skirt and gripping your ass.

Tsukishima had to look away at this point, searching the room for Yamaguchi’s green shirt. They made eye contact and Yamaguchi started making his way towards his friend, obviously noting the disgruntled look on his face. As he approached, he set the plush Scooby Doo that he’d been carrying around on the counter of the bar and leaned his shoulder against his friend.

“Hey Tsukki! Having fun?” a wide grin stretched across Yamaguchi’s face, the alcohol he’d consumed affecting him.

Tsukishima just rolled his eyes, “I don’t know why you always insist on bringing me out with you on Halloween.”

Yamaguchi laughed at the blonde, “You know, you probably wouldn’t be so miserable coming out with us if you just made a move on her yourself.” Tsukishima’s eyes widened a little before they narrowed at his drunk friend.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled, looking away with annoyance.

“Aw, come on! You know she only hits on other people because you ignore her when we come out. She wants to make you jealous. I bet if you gave her some attention, you’d both have a much better time,” Yamaguchi patted Tsukishima’s shoulder with a sly grin. He knew his friend too well, but Tsukishima was stubborn and refused to give in to what Yamaguchi was insinuating.

“She only wants my attention because she’s a slut. She’s already slept with half the town, so she’s running out of options,” Tsukishima’s words spit out like venom. He’s mad that Yamaguchi thinks he likes you, he’s mad that you always find someone to hang off of when you’re around him, and he’s mad that, deep down, he knows he’s incredibly jealous.

“Wow,” you say behind Tsukishima’s back. He turns around, not realizing that you were standing there. You had a glass in each hand, seemingly coming back to the bar to get a refill. Your cheeks are red, and Tsukishima’s not sure if they’re flushed from drinking, kissing, or anger. You puff your chest up before setting the glasses on the bar and turning to head out of the building.

Tsukishima curses under his breath and chases after you, pushing through the crowd to keep up with your smaller form. He sees you make it past the crowd of sweaty dancers and burst through the front door. In his haste to reach you, he bumps into several people who spill their drinks down the front of his sweater.

Finally, he makes it out the front door and sees you stumbling down the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment. He catches up quickly, telling you to wait and grabbing your arm, which you firmly shake out of his grasp. You turn on your heels to face him, face even more red and tears spilling down your cheeks.

“You’re an asshole, Tsukishima! Fuck you,” you slur your words as you speak, but Tsukishima can still feel the venom behind them. It hurts him, and he knows that he fucked up. He grabs your shoulders and holds you firm despite your attempts to wiggle away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says this as calmly as he can but he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Now that you’re closer, he can see how your mascara has smeared from your tears and sweat and he can see a bruise starting to form on your neck from that loser you were making out with not even 10 minutes ago. Tsukishima can feel anger start to well in his chest at the thought that someone had left marks on you. You scoff at him and wiggle one of your shoulders free, using your free arm to push at his shoulder.

“So what, you don’t think I’m a slut? You just said it to Tadashi as a joke or something?” you sniffle and stumble forward a little as you continue to push at him. He wraps an arm around your waist to try to steady you.

“Well, I do think you’re a slut, but I probably shouldn’t have said it out loud,” a smirk graces his face as he sees your mouth fall open in shock. Your hands ball up into little fists and you punch at his chest to try to get out of his grasp.

“Fuck you! I hate you, Tsukishima,” you shout at him, and he can feel his anger boil over, his feelings and the alcohol he’d consumed pushing him over the edge and causing him to do something he wouldn’t normally do. The arm he had around your waist tightens while his other hand comes to press between your shoulder blades, pushing you up into him so that he could crush his mouth against yours.

You squeal at his sudden action, eyes staring at him as he gauges your reaction. You push at his shoulders again, and he pulls back, not taking his arms off you but giving you space to breathe. You just look at each other for a moment as you take in what just happened. It slowly clicks in your head that Tsukishima just kissed you, and you can feel warmth spread across your chest before you reach up to fist his sweater and bring him back down to kiss you again.

This time, Tsukishima isn’t as hesitant, he’s firm as he presses into your mouth, tongue meeting yours and you moan as you feel his fingertips dig into your back, trying to pull you closer to him. In the distance, you hear whistles and cheers, and it occurs to you both that you’re still in a public setting. One of Tsukishima’s hands snakes its way up your back to bury itself in your hair, then he pulls your head back with a force that makes you hiss. You whimper and you feel your knees wobble under you and heat pool in your stomach as he glares at you with hungry eyes.

“You’re a slut,” he whispers to you, giving you goosebumps, his husky tone giving away just how turned on he is. “But you’re my slut.” Then, he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you down the sidewalk. You stumble as you try to keep up, a little confused.

“Where are we going?” You ask, breathless.

With a smirk, Tsukishima turns to look at you out of the corner of his eye. “Your apartment. If you’re going to act like a slut, then I’m going to fuck you like one.”

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei smut

182 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

“I’m not telling you again.”

If you’re still doing the sentence prompts?

CW: Vampirism, blood drinking, minor whumpee (OC is 17), captivity, referenced dehydration and starvation, forced turning, wishing for death, religion

1905, somewhere outside New York City

"Come here, little one."

The boy presses himself back against the cold stone wall behind him. There's a cuff around one ankle, dull iron, and a chain that scrapes the floor when he moves. He swallows, shaking his head rapidly from side to side. Dirty hair falls dull over eyes that sparkle vibrant green in the near-total darkness.

He can't see her.

But she can see him.

"No." His voice is a whimper, a nearly-animal whine, pure fear. "Please, please, please no, not, not, not tonight, not... not tonight, please."

She sighs, chuckling fondly, and pulls a match across her palm to light the lamp that hangs on a hook down here. The wick catches flame, and now he sees the pale, pale skin, the deep red lips. The predator's gleam in glinting dark eyes.

She crooks a long, sharpened fingernail . He can see the hem of her dress, lace-edged, the skirt that sweeps up to curve her hips, the narrowed waist, the high neck. He's stared at illustrations of the Gibson girl put up in shop windows in stores that sell to richer women than he's ever known. She's an echo right down to the soft, upswept hair.

Like a man with an expensive coat hiding a knife, he thinks, that he means to slaughter you with. She's a monster who looks like an angel.

"I'm not telling you again. I'm hungry," She says, and gives a little pout. "I want you to feed me."

He pulls his arms in close, shaking his head again. Tears already threaten. He's so tired, all the time. There is never time enough to heal from one bite before the next and the next and the next-

"Come now, little pet. It's just one last time." Her voice is gentle, but he knows they lie. They all lie to get their fangs in you.

"What, what, what d'you mean?" The boy has a thick country Irish accent, still. Fresh off the boat, they call him when he tries to speak to the boys his age in his tenement. Half of them have accents like his, or thicker.

Not that he'll see any of them ever again.

Not since his parents-

Not since-

He chokes on a sob he can't quite hold back, turning at the waist to rub his fingers over the rough, cool stone. It helps. The motion, the texture, it helps. It calms him down, a little.

Everything here is wrong.

He misses home. He misses the green hills that were never so full of dirt ground in as the city streets are. He misses the air that didn't smell like offal day and night. He misses a world where it was all less overwhelming. He misses a world where his parents were alive to help him understand it.

"Oh, you're sad tonight," The monster wearing a woman's face says, taking the lamp off the hook and carrying it closer. The shadows dance off her cheekbones, they seem to give her a sneer rather than her soft smile. "Let Malorie be of aid to you. Tell me what you need, sweet boy."

"Can, can, can I have a-a drink? Miss?" His voice is hoarse from thirst, and he's parched. It has rained for two weeks and he's drunk the rainwater that leaks in through the walls, plus the few sips they give him each day. Food is a bit of moldy bread, cheese, maybe a thin soup. It isn't enough.

They don't seem to notice, or care.

But then food or water is something they left behind, isn't it?

"Hm." She steps forward, closer to him. Her eyes flash in the dark, reflect the bit of light, and he cringes back from her fangs as she smiles down at him. She moves to crouch before him, and sets the lamp down on the floor beside her. "Is it thirst that drives you, little one?"

"Please." His lips are chapped and cracked. He tastes blood, sometimes, and spits pink-tinged spit to blend with the soil beneath him. He tries to look pitiful - it's not hard to succeed. "Please. I'm, I'm so so so so... so thirsty, ma'am, just a cup, please-"

She looks down, unfastening the line of tiny pearl buttons on one sleeve, then rolling back the fabric to expose her wrist. A stray curl of dark hair falls down to brush her perfect cheekbone.

"Ma'am?" He can't understand what she's doing - none of them had ever started to undress in front of him before. "A drink, ma'am? Please?"

She looks up, and her eyes gleam like a cat's in the dark. Her teeth are very very white. He can see the venom shimmering on her fangs.

"A drink you want, you beautiful boy," She says, and he stares with uncomprehending horror as she moves her wrist towards her own mouth. "And a drink you shall have."

She tears her own wrist open with her teeth.

He gasps and tries to get up to run, but he's weak and dizzy and when she yanks at the chain that binds his ankle to the wall he goes down hard and lands with a thump, the breath knocked out of him.

While he wheezes air into lungs that won't take it, she pushes him onto his back and forces her wrist against his mouth, her other hand pinching his nose shut.

He cries out in horrified disgust against her cold skin and the thick brackish fluid that flows over his tongue. She stares down at him, avid, with huge eyes.

"Drink, sweet boy," She murmurs. "Quench your thirst."

He must drink or suffocate, and his body chooses for him. He swallows even as he gags, and swallows again, and she lets go of his nose so he can frantically pull in air, tears streaming to pool in the shells of his ears and soak into his grimy, dirty hair.

She is a blur through his terror, but her smile is written in stone in the yard beside a church.

"My turn," She says, and when she buries her fangs into his neck, the boy screams again.

And then goes limp as the venom takes hold, and the vampire begins to purr, her fingers gripped like claws into his shoulders.

There is no pain.

Only the fear.

I'm going to die, he thinks, and stares up into the darkness that wipes out even the lamplight. It seems like it's growing, within him and without.

His mouth is full of blood. It tastes better than it did when first she made him drink. The heaving of his stomach stops. He starts to swallow willingly, even eagerly. Nothing has ever quenched his thirst quite like this. It doesn't taste at all like he'd thought.

I'm going to die.

He wants to go home.

He wants more to drink.

He's so hungry.

He wants more blood.

When she pulls her wrist away, he whines and tries to grab at it, to pull it back. She laughs, swatting playfully at him.

"Not yet," She chides, wagging a finger. She licks her open wound and it closes. She laps at the remaining blood and he tries to sit up, to get some too, only for her to push him down again.

Then... pain.

Agony hits, a bright stripe straight up his spine, and he arches away from the ground, throwing his head back and screaming loud enough to bounce off all the walls. It recedes, and then comes again, through his stomach this time. The throb moves to his hips, thighs, into his calves and all the way to his toes.

He curls into a ball on his side, but the pain keeps growing. It takes over. He can't feel the floor he lays on, only the constant spark of nerves blaring alarm. He feels like he is being crushed under a rock, burned by the hottest fire, stabbed with a hundred knives.

"Wh, what, what's happening-... t'me?!" He coughs, and then sobs as the action hurts more than anything else ever has in his life.

"You're dying." She picks at her fingernails, already bored.

He turns to look up at her as she stands, licking her chops like a cat. Tears run down his face, and every time he blinks the air seems pink-tinged. "What...?"

"That's your body shutting down. You know, you're very fortunate." She wipes a droplet of the boy's own blood from the corner of her mouth and then sucks her finger clean. "Very few people get to be born twice. I'll see you tomorrow night. I would prefer if you didn't call me your mother."

Before he can even begin to form a question, she turns to walk away, hanging the lamp up on its hook as she goes, blowing out the flame.

The pain ripples again, he is broken like a brittle shell against the shore. His very bones feel as though they're tearing apart inside him.

He's going to die here.

And he won't stay dead. His parents will wait in Heaven for a demon son who will never be allowed to step foot into Paradise.

He gulps in air, lungs burning, and tries to remember the prayer through his panic. "Our Father, wh-who art in Heaven, hallowed be be be Thy Name-"

His throat blisters even saying the words, and when he tries to cross himself, his hand shakes too much, his joints crack and shatter. He can feel it, he can hear it. They crack and reform, break and bend.

He screams.

He screams until his throat is raw, until it bleeds, until his heart stops beating and blood runs from eyes and ears and from under his nails.

He whispers every prayer he's ever known when he can. He begs for salvation, he begs to be spared eternal bloodlust, he pleads for something other than damnation. He prays he'll see his parents in death and not become a monster like this.

His prayers are swallowed whole by darkness.

He dies, but he does not die for long.

Tag list: @mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

#whump #vampirism #vampire whumpee #vampire chris au #horror writing #horror fiction #vampire fiction #blood drinking #immortal whumper #sadistic whumper #captivity #bitten #chained up #horror story #vampire whump #vampires #monster whumper #chris the strawberry blond romantic #referenced starvation

190 notes · View notes

celestial-fucking-weeb · 3 years

Text

NAGĀ!SERO

Hey y’all! This is a part of the Citrus Server Hybrid!AU Collab! The masterlist is HERE, please please please go check everyone’s pieces out!

A/N: I am fully aware that this is all over the place, ya girl is off her meds and will edit later. Please don’t tell me it sucks, I already know and I hate it, too.

SERO HANTA X F!READER

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, angst, smut, double penetration, aphrodisiac, interspecies miscommunication, size kink, breeding kink, mating, idk tell me if i missed anything

You had always heard stories about creatures in the forest; ones that eat humans, ones kidnap children, ones that would hurt you if you ever ran off by yourself. You didn’t believe them… Or maybe you did, but either way, the creatures could never be as scary as the life you already lived.

You had been taken prisoner when your coastal village was raided by pirates. Your clan’s viking warriors were off on a journey, leaving all of you oh so vulnerable with depleted numbers. They were going to kill you, like they did most of the others, but the pirate setting fire to everything in his path halted when he found you trembling under the rubble.

“Tomura, come see the new toy I found. Don’t you wanna keep her?”

“You sadistic bastard, how you get off to them crying like that never fails to make me sick. I don’t care what you do with her, Dabi, but I’m not cleaning up after you this time.”

They hauled you back to their ship, stripped you of everything and chained you in the hull. People came in and out, always different but always vile. You never spoke, you knew they wanted your screams. Overhaul, the captain, was the worst. You never knew when he was coming, and once he was there, you wondered what he wanted from you at all. Chained up, never touching you with anything but knives and his boots, not looking for your reactions… You wondered if he’d even notice if you stopped breathing. You dissociated for most of it, choosing instead to safeguard your mind, plan an escape.

About a year later, you found an opportunity in the carelessness of one of your captors. You docked someplace warm, someplace humid, maybe tropical? Toga had left your chains too loose after your last “date”, and had tossed the keys just a bit too close. As soon as she left, you had slipped your wrists out of the restraints, strained for the keys, and unlocked the shackles around your ankles. Not taking a moment to revel in the surreal feeling of being unchained, you listened until the heavy footsteps above you all faded into nothing, leaving the ship and most importantly: leaving you alone.

You ran. You ran so steadily, somehow comforted by the sounds of destruction getting further and further away. You found yourself blindly sprinting into a forest that looked nothing like your own, so damp and bright and warm. You kept running until you heard shuffling behind you, causing you to find the first thick vine hanging in your vicinity and clung to it as you climbed. Looking back, you see a simple boar grazing the forest floor. Sighing in relief, you relaxed a bit too soon, as the vine you had wrapped yourself around began to move.

Before you could react, you were wrapped up tightly in bands of muscle and brought towards the head of the- wait…- man? You had heard of nagā before, but the ones from your village’s stories were never described as so… tan, muscular, handsome. He didn’t look all that mean from the waist up, just the black, orange, and yellow scales trailing down his massive, strong tail seemed intimidating. He looked confused, concerned even, by your nakedness and panic stricken silence. Forked tongue flicking out to taste the air, smelling the blood and the abuse on your skin, seeing your quickly defeated body give up, and your mind resign itself to the comfort that at least you died free of your captors.

“Are you… okay?” The giant snake rumbles, human hand reaching towards your face and recoiling when you flinch.

You haven't spoken in months, your silence having been a security blanket, and you’re not ready to give that up. You do nothing, just look into his eyes and search for any sort of indication as to what he’s going to do. He loosens his grip a bit, just enough to slip down from his tree and head towards his hide- an old cave covered in ivy, moss, and little orange blossoms. He brings you in, and places you down on the ground before turning away to rummage through his things. He brings out water and bandages, along with some kind of salve that looks like a mixture of plants. You don’t reach for the water when he sets it near you, so he resorts to using the tip of his tail to bring it to your lips while his hands are busy tending to your wounds and gently rubbing the salve over your poorly healed scars. He offers you food, very confused when you don't seem to know what to do with the forest rodent he’s brought you, and decides on fruits he’s found. You don’t seem to want to do anything, not even going to sunbathe even though you’re obviously shivering.

THAT’S IT!!! SHE’S COLD! He thinks to himself, before wrapping his tail around you once more and bringing you outside to the rock where he typically warms himself. He gently places you down, uncoils you from his grasp, and gives you enough space to move as you please. You blink a few times, slowly realizing you’re free. He helped you? For no reason? He doesn’t know you…

“H-Hi… Thank… Thank you.” You mutter, looking away and blushing.

Cute… He thinks. “YOU TALK!!! What’s your name? I’m Sero, but you can call me Hanta! I was worried about you! Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?”

The line of questioning makes your head spin, and you try your best to answer before looking down and realizing you never found clothes. Blushing once again, you meekly gesture to your body and ask, “C-Clothes. I need clothes.” Hanta looks confused, but retreats to the cave and returns, bringing you a large piece of cloth that somewhat resembles a hemp blanket. It smells like oranges and spice, and you unconsciously snuggle into its comfort. Sero notices your calmed reaction to his scent and approaches you, gingerly grasps your ankle and picks up your leg, never having been so close to a human, and explores the strange angles your appendages bend.

“What are you doing?” You seem embarrassed, despite the number of people who've touched you before. This is too familiar, too intimate, almost too gentle.

“Tiny… Humans are… Small…”

You let him bend your limbs and play with your squish, strangely calm and trusting in his presence. He seems so enthralled by your body and how you move, so intrigued. That is, until he makes his way to massaging your plush thighs, causing a rush of arousal you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. He prys opens your legs to continue his ministrations, not knowing the smell of your lust would have him flicking his tongue out and his eyes turning to hyper-focused slits. He suddenly releases your legs, slithers around your back, and presses against you. He taps the top of your head with his chin and waits for your response. Not knowing what this means, but wanting him to continue his exploration, you lean back into him and whine quietly.

You have no idea what you’ve started.

Hanta leans down, pressing sweet kisses down the column of your throat and leaving scathing bites in all the right places. Aphrodisiac venom coursing through your veins, you don’t even register his muscular arms wrapping around your body and lifting you, carrying you back into his cave and up into his hammock. He wraps his strong tail completely around your torso and takes his time kissing and groping your soft body, mumbling “mate, mate, mate” into your heated flesh. He finally makes his way down to your mound, prying your thighs apart and diving straight in before you could question his reverent gaze.

“HANTAAA~” You practically screamed as his long tongue slipped between your folds, running along your clit and down to your clenching hole, his saliva increasing the heat coursing through your core. “M-More, please… More~”

“More, what?” He smirks against your heat. “Say it. Tell me I’m your mate and I’ll make sure you’re fucked dumb, yeah? My pretty little mate.”

You stutter for a moment, getting more desperate the longer his fingers drag along your wetness. “Mate… Please! I need you… I’m yours!”

“Good mate~” His tongue wriggles back into your cunt, and his fingers slowly move further down to stretch your tight ass, making you squeal in surprise. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, all thoughts abandoning your mind as you ride out your high on his face and fingers.

“Are you ready, little one?” He growls lowly, lining up two long, thick cocks with each hole. Your eyes widen in surprise, head clearing for a moment after your climax.

“T-two?! Wait wait wait, I’ve never… I can’t! Two?!”

“Oh, little mate, but you can and you will!” He punctuates his statement by spitting down onto your cunt, thick venom slipping down to your tight rim. You moan and grind against his cocks, aphrodisiac leading your body into a blissed out state of submission. “Gonna fill you up so good. I promise you’ll be so full, feel so good, little mate. Trust me?”

“Y-yes! Wanna be full, want my mate!” You beg and plead for him to push into you, hips bucking against him, trying to get him to satiate the burning want he’d created. It isn’t until you thread your fingers through his hair and wrap your legs around his waist that he thrusts into you completely.

“That’s it, wrap around me like that. So tight, so warm… Fuuuck!~” Sero pants, chest pressed tightly to yours and face tucked into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking deep marks over your pulse point.

You’ve never felt so full, your body strangely welcoming the pleasurable stretch of your holes, pulling him deeper and deeper until you can feel him in your belly with every roll of his powerful hips. Your whimpers and tears only seem to spur him on, drawing orgasm after orgasm from your body.

“S-Shit, keep squeezing around me like that. Come on, little one, I know you have one more for me. Cum with me, I wanna feel you cum one more time. Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so good. Come on, pretty mate- fuck- cum for me~” He reaches down and pinches your overstimulated clit between two fingers and bites down on your neck one last time, sending you over the edge with a cry of “breed me, breed me, breed me!” and nails digging into his back.

“Mine! My mate, pretty little mate. Breed mate, all mine!! Gonna- gonna… Ah~” Hanta’s words steadily fell from his lips as he released deep inside your holes, belly bulging from the sheer amount of seed he spilled into you.

Utterly exhausted and dreamily floating off, you cling to him. Sero wraps you up in his tail and lays back into his hammock, keeping you as close as he can. When you snuggle into him, he whispers little praises into your hairline, a constant stream of “so good, pretty mate, all mine, i love you, so perfect, did so well, took me so well, such a good mate”.

The next day, you wake up surrounded by soft cloth, feathers, fruits, fluffy furs, a dozen shiny objects and pretty dried flowers. You sit up, looking around frantically for your mate before your eyes settle on a sheepish-looking Sero, wiggling nervously around the cave.

“Um… Do you… like it? I made it for you… I just- please tell me you like it!” He shrinks himself a bit, arm coming up to palm the back of his neck.

“Oh, is this a… nest? It’s- It’s very nice. Thank you, Hanta!” You smile softly at him, curling up into your nest and reaching out for him.

“MATE!!! I’m so happy you like it, I was so nervous!!! My mate. You can stay here all the time, so I can protect you, forever! My pretty little mate.~” He climbs into the nest and coils himself around you, content to guard you.

Maybe this time, being kept isn’t so bad.

#sero hanta #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero

548 notes · View notes

snappleapple · 3 years

Text

the bunny vs. the fox

dream x reader

hogwarts au

fluff and angst i suppose

warning - cursing, reader being a small b, simpy dream, underage drinking

word count - 6.8k

a/n: hi again! please enjoy this long boi while i go on another 8 month hiatus lol. also i legit had a heart attack cause i accidentally deleted this but i got it back so phew

the vibrant colors of your uniform stands out amongst the repelling amount of green present within the slytherin common room. you had been invited to the party on behalf of wilbur for their recent quidditch cup win against gryffindor, a game lost because of the carelessness and arrogance of your teammates. along with students from other houses, you stand next to the tall boy you had met when you got onto the train in your first year.

“wilbur, why am i here?” the question lingers in his ear as you point to your current attire of your uniform skirt, an oversized gryffindor sweater you borrowed from sapnap, your thick glasses and messy bed hair from taking a nap after the long game. “y/n? what are you doing here?” you turn your head to glance over at the younger boy, “that’s what i wanna know, tommy.” as you turn around to look at wilbur, another person bumps into you, “hey! watch where you’re going- y/n! what a surprise!” with the roll of your eyes, you dismiss him and reply sarcastically, “glad to see you’re not so shaken up from the recent failure of gryffindor, fundy.” he gives you a shit-eating grin before bouncing away to continue his search for pure alcohol.

as more students enter the already crowded room, a loud cheer begins to form as a boy is lifted into the air. “dream! dream! dream!” the crowd yells at the top of their lungs, which would probably attract a teacher soon, so you begin to sneak out of the room until a loud voice interrupts the cheers, “y/n! leaving the party so soon?” dream taunts with a smirk on his face, everyone’s attention turning towards you. “mind your own business, dream.” you spit out with venom, still bitter about your quidditch loss, as he scoffs and strides towards you, “i guess if you search up sore loser in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of y/n.” he mocks once again while you begin to get riled up from the obnoxious laughter erupting from the crowd. you turn around and begin heading for the door once more before hearing, “come on y/n. no one likes a sore loser.” turning around, you glare at the annoying boy, “come on dream. the only thing worse than a sore loser is a sore winner.” the both of you stare each other down while the whole room stays quiet. dream stands with an unsatisfied smirk on his face as he reaches into his pocket, possibly reaching for his wand. with the slight slip of your fingers and extra progression , you grasp your wand. but before you could fully pull out your wand, you get lifted into the air, over the shoulder of a ravenclaw. “we’ll be seeing you guys later.” he nonchalantly says while walking out of the room, giving you perfect view of dream, with a now satisfied shit-eating grin as he waves at you. you end your interaction with the slytherin with the show of your middle finger.

“techno! why? i could’ve totally won that battle.” the older boy shakes his head as he listens to your whines. “nope. i promised phil that i would keep you out of trouble.” you groan some more before stomping away back to the gryffindor common room, barely sparing a glance at the pink haired boy.

a week passes by and when you’re at breakfast, you lay your head against phil’s shoulder while he munches away on a buttered piece of toast, keeping conversation with fundy. dream hadn’t been bothering as bad as normal but he was still around you. you were a bit confused about his change in behavior but brushed it off, ignoring him and treating him as if he’s on his own menopause situation. twiddling your fingers, boredom begins to strike you in the great breakfast hall. well, once quiet hall, in which the silence is interrupted by the entrance of dream, sapnap and george. you would assume that since they are all from different houses, there would be a tolerance for peace, yet that never seemed like an option with dream. “hello y/n.” he smirks as you turn around to look at him with a stone cold expression. “what do you want?” you say with a scathing tone. ‘“nothing, just came to see how the most competitive person on gryffindor was doing after their recent loss.” with the use of your middle finger, you raise your glasses before giving dream an innocent grin, “i’m feeling good.” the hall goes quieter than it was before as dream sits next to you on the bench. as you leans closer to you, you put your hand under your head and turn your head towards him coyly. “and what do i owe the honor of being able to sit next to the dream? he rolls his eyes as sapnap and george laugh at your shenanigans. “i was just wondering if you would do me the honor of going out to hogsmeade with me?” shaking your head, you barely even glance over at the boy. “no.” dream’s expression remains stoic as he continues to look at you, “come on y/n.” you turn to stand up and leave. raising a stiff hand into the air, you wave to phil and fundy.

but before you could fully exit the great hall, a hand pulls you into the crevice of the walls. he puts his hand over your mouth to prevent you from saying a word. “y/n. please. please go out with me.” shaking your head once again, you give him a cheeky grin. “what will you do for me if i do?” dream pinches his nose bridge, “i’ll do your charms homework for a month.” he persuades with much hesitance. you fully extend your hand out to him and he wraps his large, warm hand around yours. the large grin on your face replicates the one on his face. “next week on saturday, meet me at the bridge to hogsmeade at nine am, sharp! but if you are even a minute late, i’m leaving and you’re still doing my charms homework.” dream closes his eyes and basks in the natural light from the bewitched sky, nodding his head.

the rest of the day, you go throughout your usual classes, occasionally listening to the gossip that spread like wildfire throughout the school. “oh my god, did you hear that l/n is going out with dream tomorrow?” or “i thought they hated each other?” in all honesty, you were beginning to get annoyed from all of the side conversations happening in all classes. luckily, you were in your last class of the day, unluckily, it was with slytherin, specifically dream’s class. a yawn erupts from your mouth as pull out a set of notes to get ready for your class. as the second yawn begins, a hand makes its way to your mouth. you glare at the boy who had already caused way too much mischief for your liking. he gives you a fake grin as he sits next to you. before you can retort to his stupid action, your professor struts into the room, quickly starting his lesson.

throughout most of the class, dream remains quiet, jotting down his notes or dragging his hand through his hair. but towards the end of the class, he leans his head on your shoulder. your body stiffens up as his hand makes its way to your thigh. “you better take your hand off my thigh if you want to keep it.” quiet chuckles erupt from his lips, “can i do this on our date?” you reciprocate soft chuckles, “do you want to die?” the grin on his face get replaced by a pout and puppy dog eyes. “why are you so mean to me?” you continue to scribble down notes, not sparing one glance at the boy, until he grabs your face with both of his hands, “look at me pout, y/n.” and when he turns you face towards him, your professor calls the both of you out. “miss l/n, please take your lovey dovey business outside of class.” your mouth hangs open but before you could protest, dream interrupts you, “will do professor.” his chuckles echo through the room as you slam your head into the table repeatedly until dream puts his hand on the desk, preventing you from bruising your forehead even more. “just let me bash my skull open and die.” dream pats your head, “i can’t have you die before our date.” cringing at his words, you frantically try to remove his hand so you could smash your head into the desk.

later that night at dinner, your face remains a disgusted pout as you imagine your date with dream. while you shudder in disgust, phil taps you out of your daze. “y/n, you really should snap out of it today.” he laughs jokingly along with fundy. your eyes roll as you turn back to your dinner plate full of random things phil stacked on so that you would actually eat dinner. after being forcefully fed one chicken leg and some mashed potatoes, you check the time which read eight twenty five, giving you five minutes to go to the black lake. “oh shit.” you exclaim as you grab all of your items while phil tries to stuff another chicken leg into your mouth. “phi-“ you shut up when the chicken successfully makes it into your mouth. as you sprint out of the hall carrying your school books, robe, wand and other unnecessary items fundy handed to you, your robe decides to slip out unbeknown to you.

when you arrive to the lake, you see him waiting for you already. you toss your items down next to him and sit down next to him. “you’re late. again.” heavy huffs of air erupt from your body as try to catch your breath, still holding the chicken leg phil stuffed into your mouth. “sorr-“ a cough leaves your lips, “sorry. phil was trying to get me to eat dinner.” the boy lets out deep chuckles as he ruffles your hair, “classic phil.” you lean back and balance your weight on the both of your hands as you stare out at the frozen lake. “techno, i don’t get why we have to meet outside in the freezing cold when there is a warm library open to us. i’m cold and i lost my robe on the way here. in a silent flash, a blue accented robe makes its way over into your sight, along with a bare arm. when you turn your head towards the boy, he says away and turns back to the lake, expressionlessly. a small smile erupts on your face as you turn back to the lake, wrapping the robe around your shoulders. before you could mutter a quick thank you, you get cut off, “don’t. lets not talk about this.”

after finishing whatever school work you needed to with techno, you walk back with him into the hallways, coincidentally just as dinner was ending. though you never found out where your robe was, you bump into a tall figure as you make your way through the hall with techno counting the tiles on the floor. a small oomf leaves your lips as the person puts his hands on your shoulders. “who’s robe is that? last time i checked you were in gryffindor, not ravenclaw.” you don’t need to look up to know who you were currently speaking with, “hello dream.” you could hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again, “hello y/n. take this off.” dream retorts with a hint of teasing, “no. i’m cold and i lost my robe. so techno let me borrow his.” the other tall boy next to you nods in agreement. “uh no. i don’t like the sight of this.” dream complains with an unsatisfied look on his face before tugging the robe off of your body, throwing it at technoblade and then proceeding to wrap his robe around your body, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “that’s better.” he doesn’t even spare a glance at the older boy as he leads you away while you try to at least say goodbye to technoblade. “bye- dream i swear to god, bye techno!”

while the both of you continue to the gryffindor tower, he doesn’t let his arm on your shoulders falter. “what’s the deal with you and that guy.” you stop in place, turn to look at dream and mime yourself zipping your lips as if you were saying, ‘you get nothing out of me.’ dream rolls his eyes before throwing you over his shoulder and continuing his way over to the common room. “okay this is unnecessary. put me down, i’m wearing a skirt.” lightly hitting his back with your fist. “don’t worry about it, my robe is covering it up.”

at the door of the entrance, the fat lady stares at you in confusion. “can you put me down?” dream lets out a grunt of disagreement, “no. just tell her the password so i can come in and snuggle you.” you take a breath in of anger, “no. i need to finish homework, plus i’m going to see you again tomorrow.” another grunt comes out of the boy before he says the password to your common room, the fat lady begrudgingly letting the both of you in. “what?! you know the password?” he chuckles before setting you down, “of course, sapnap told me. and i come in here all the time to hook up with different gryffindor girls.” your face of disgust makes a wheeze leave his lips, “i’m joking. i finish homework with sapnap in his room, not hook up with girls. i’ll have you know, i haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” you scoff before turning towards your room, “goodnight dream.” but before you can progress any further, he grabs your wrist, “no.” your face scrunches up. staring the boy up and down, another scoff leaves your lips, “what do you mean ‘no’. i’m not giving you an option.” he pouts and opens his arms, “i jus wanna cuddle.” your face scrunches up in disgust once more before you take a step back, “wasn’t it last week when you were being a bitch about my quidditch team.” his arms fall down in realization but the pout remains visible. slightly annoyed but empathetic, you walk over to him, awkwardly wrapping your arms around his waist, patting him on his back gently. while he embraces you back, he leans down to whisper into your ear, “can we cuddle?” you let out groans before letting out a deep sigh, “fine. but you have to promise not to be too grabby, like right now. i did not tell you to grab my butt.” dream sheepishly shys away from you and grabs the hem of shirt while he follows you up the stairs while you try to maneuver him so he can actually make it up the enchanted stairs that only the girl’s dorm.

when you enter your dorm, you’re met by the friendly faces of your roommates. “h-hey guys.” with the motion of their hands, they tell you scoot over to see dream standing behind you with a smirk on his face. before he could walk into the room, you shut the door in his face, wanting to speak in private with your roommates. “don’t tell anyone about this. he was begging to cuddle and would not leave until i agreed. he’ll be gone by midnight tonight and i promise i’ll make sure he’s quiet.” your roommates stare at you before bursting out in laughter, “you’re going soft y/n!” a look of shock rushes over your face before hushing them, “i am not.” they shake their heads in disagreement, making you roll your eyes. when you open the door to let dream back into your room, your roommates pack their homework and walk towards the door. one roommate holds the door open while the other still collects her things, “we’ll be seeing you later y/n. so have fun with dream.” you hide your face in your pillow, embarrassed from their current attitudes about your situation. when they leave, dream sits on your bed while you stand up and walk over to your closet and grab a change of clothes. “just lay on the bed and i’ll be out soon.” dream nods, boredly flipping through a random book he found on your bed.

in the bathroom, you tie your hair in a messy bun, change into some sweatpants and a random oversized t-shirt, you think its either sapnap’s or wilbur’s, take your contacts out and put your glasses on, before proceeding to brush your teeth and exiting the bathroom.

sitting on the edge of your bed, you stare down at dream, hugging your pillow. “y/n, can you replace the pillow?” your expression quickly shifts from a neutral face to a cringing face. you ignore his words, “scoot over.” you say while grabbing the book dream was reading before you came out, opening it and tucking your legs underneath your comforter. another sigh leaves your lips as you tap the top of your thighs twice, letting dream know that he can lay his head onto your legs, in which he gladly does. about thirty minutes pass and your hand drags itself through his hair, occasionally leaving to flip the page of your book. you stay super into your book until dream speaks up, “y/n.” you let out a mhm of acknowledgement, letting him know you’re listening. “i don’t want to cuddle your legs, i want to cuddle you.” a small okay is heard from you as you put the book on your dresser, tucking yourself into your bed. your back faces away from dream. a shiver rolls down your spine as he wraps his arms around your waist, resulting in him breathing down your neck. goosebumps arise on your body. in the awkward silence of the room, the only things you can hear are the loud thumps of your heart and the even breaths from dream.

when you wake up the next morning, you move your arms to stretch them, but fail to do so in the embrace of dream. staring at his peaceful face, free of any frowns he had shown last night, you brush his bangs out of his eyes. with a glance at the seeping sunlight, you slowly slip out of his embrace, walking to the bathroom to get ready for the day. before you exit the room, you glance over at the sleeping boy on your bed. you roll your eyes before walking over to his side and sitting down on the edge of the bed, gently caressing his messy hair. he stirs in his sleep for a few seconds and as he opens his eyes. the first things he sees is you before pulling you towards his chest with you going down with a yelp. “dream!” he nuzzles his head into your neck, mumbling something incoherent. “say that again?” he mumbles some more, “i don’t know what you’re saying.” you chuckle in-between each word, he moves his head away from your neck, “i said you smell good.” dream stretches as you pull away from him, walking over to the door leading to the common room. “go clean yourself up and come to breakfast.” dream sluggishly drags himself out of your bed before grabbing his robe and your wrist, proceeding to drag you towards the door, the stairs turning into a slide underneath him while you wait for the stairs to turn back, laughing loudly at him. at the bottom of the stairs, you meet the friendly faces of phil, fundy and sapnap.

“y/n, why was dream in your room last night?” phil asks just a bit sarcastic but with a joyful smile on his face. sapnap’s face morphs into a smirk as his eyes move from your figure to dream’s and then back to yours. “you,” he says while staring at you before turning to dream on the floor, “and you.” sapnap then proceeds to make kissy faces earning a smack from you and a chuckle from dream, earning dream a smack from you as well. “dream is leaving anyways.” you say while pushing him out of your common room. phil, fundy, sapnap, you and dream make your way down the hall, “dream. go to your room and change.” he pouts once again before wrapping his hand around yours. once phil notices, he walks between the both of you, separating you and dream, making you stand on either side of him. when you glance up at phil, he just gives you his signature kind smile before turning back to his conversation with fundy. before you notice, dream had disappeared to god knows where, you get pulled behind a pillar, not being noticed from the three of your friends. “shh, y/n.” his hand covers your mouth until he lets go, “dream! what was the point of this, we were with each other like five minutes ago.” he ignores your words and drags you towards the slytherin common room, finishing what he started earlier by holding your hand.

while you wait for dream to finish getting ready in his room, you sit in the common room, greeted by the not so friendly faces of other slytherins, disregarding wilbur sitting at your side, telling you about the dragon he was raising in the dark forest. when dream comes back out, the color of your uniform stands out so brightly in the dark green room. wilbur sits next to you with his beanie on. “wilbur, aren’t you tired? you have black circles under your eyes.” he shakes his head with optimism, “it’s for the aesthetic. don’t worry about them. oh hello dream!” your eyes shift from wilbur to dream. dream leads you out of the common room as the both of you walk down the quiet and empty halls towards breakfast. dream wraps his robe around your shoulders, “i know you get cold easily.” you look up at him with a small smile engulfed by sadness, “thanks.”

as you walk down the long hallway, you finally feel the courage to speak up. “dream,” you pause waiting for a response from the tall boy. he lets out a hum to let you know he’s listening, “why are you doing this?” the question slips from your lips with doubt and concern. “doing what?” dream answers back with his own question. “well for one,” you pause once again with uncertainty, “pretending to like me. just a week ago, you were being a jerk to me and all of a sudden, you just begin to pursue me. and i want to know why.” dream stops in place while you continue by yourself, “what do you mean pretend to like you? i do like you.” now it was your turn to stop, “no you don’t. you can’t just begin to like someone all of a sudden. nothing works like that. so, i’m going to ask you something and i want you to answer sincerely, okay?” dream’s face falls into a guilty expression as he stares at the floor, “how much?” you maintain the soft expression on your face while continuing to gaze at the tall boy, “fifteen galleons.” a tiny huff of air leaves your lips as you a soft small appears on your face in slight disbelief, eyes slightly tearing up. you walk away for a while before speaking once again, “i hope it was worth it.” you take off his robe and drop it on the floor as you walk away from him.

as you enter the great hall for breakfast, you sit next to phil quietly. with a small eye smile, you tell phil that you’re not that hungry and just take a sip out of your tea. “so , y/n. you and dream huh?” sapnap teases, “there’s nothing between us.” your cold tone resonates throughout the gryffindor table, “woah, no need to get your panties in a bunch.” he teases as the other boys around you laugh. angered, you stand up and grab his collar, pulling him towards you over the table, “i said there’s nothing. so fuck off and mind your own business.” your empty hand crunches up, turning your fist white. phil abruptly stands up and gently puts his hand on your shoulder as a signal to tell you to calm down. you could feel all eyes on you but could honestly care less. releasing his collar, the boy looks at you after being scolded by phil for butting into a girl’s business. “i’m sorry y/n. i didn’t mean to that insensitive.” you snap out of your rage induced glare and decide to mutter a small apology as well before walking out of the hall.

“y/n!” another glare arises on your face at you look at the culprit that made you angry. “i’m sorry for the bet, but i was just using that as an excuse because i kept denying the fact that i like you.” dream attempts to grab your hand like he did earlier that day but you snatch your hand away. “don’t bother lying now because i didn’t even believe you earlier.” your reply marked with extreme sarcasm. you turn around to stomp towards your common room once again. “y/n, please. what will it take for you to realize that i actually like you.” with a glance over your shoulder, you look at dream one last time, “leave me the fuck alone.”

as the week passed, it was the day of your date with dream. you stayed in your dorm for most of the day, eventually going out to eat at meal times. dream waited for you at the bridge that leads to hogsmeade for hours until finally leaving when sapnap came to tell him that you weren’t coming.

on the day of your quidditch game with ravenclaw, you lay in bed, staring at the spot dream had once been in with you. you’ve seen dream around but never even glanced towards him, isolating yourself quietly with your small group of friends. dream, for the most part, left you alone besides the points where he hangs out with sapnap in the gryffindor common room. you rarely spoke and only did when it was necessary. before you realize, you’re in the shower room, getting dressed in your uniform. sapnap leads you towards the field and your team flies onto the field. technoblade flies up towards you in attempt to speak to you for the first time that week. “hey munchkin. how’s it going.” you drag your hands through your hair, messing it up after phil had worked so hard to keep it neat. “dream told me he liked me. but his antics started after i confronted him about his bet.” techno’s eyes soften as he ruffles your hair, “i don’t want to sour your mood even more, but he’s sitting in gryffindor stands right now. just for your own information.” you roll your eyes and fly over to your side, bat in hand. the huffs of your breaths could be seen in the snowy weather of winter.

for most of the game, you played extremely aggressive. you nearly hit sapnap once and actually hit fundy while ravenclaw scored over and over again. “y/n! get down here!” you hear the rough voice of your quidditch captain call, “what’s wrong with you l/n? you never play this recklessly. sit out this game, we can have someone else sub for you.” dream watches you from the stands. you stare at your captain in disbelief before nodding and walking off the field.

walking down the hallways, dream follows you with silent steps in order to not attract any unwanted attention. “what do you want dream?” you ask without turning around to look at the boy. “y/n,” before he can finishes, he pauses, allowing time for you to interrupt, “i asked for what you wanted, not my name.” you let out the sarcastic and sappy reply. “y/n, i’m sorry i put you in such a shitty situation and because of that, inevitably hurt our relationship. the stupid relationship that makes me smile every time i think about you or when someone mentions your name.” dream walks towards you with caution while also watching your reaction. once he realizes that you’re okay with his presence, he pulls you into his embrace. your face gets buried into his chest. “i hate you. i hate that you made me believe you loved me. i hate that i like you despite you being an ass. i hate that we have an unspoken rivalry. i hate how you make butterflies appear with any spoken word and how you’re a touchy person that needs to hold my hand wherever we go.” dream’s chuckles echo in the hall along with his body. “i didn’t know you hated me so much.” you push away from him with a small smirk on your face, “i do. you just have a punchable face.” dream lets out an exaggerated gasp as he holds his hand over his heart, “i’m offended.” he pouts once again, a smile expanding on his face.

“but will you officially do me the honor of going out on a date with me on tomorrow? no bets, no money, nothing. just a boy in love.” you cringe at first then pretend to think about it for a while before finally making eye contact with him, “no.” his smile doesn’t falter, “okay then, i’ll see you at the bridge at nine thirty.” you raise your eyebrows in confusion as the boy walks three steps ahead of you, “come on y/n.” he taunts as if you are a dog. with the roll of your eyes, you skip up towards him and he wraps one of his arms around your shoulder. “you’re not busy right now, are you?” a small laugh leaves your lips as you stare at the tall boy, “well, i just kicked out of my quidditch game, so no? but then again, i’m sort of sweaty so i might need to take a shower.” he ignores you once again and continues walking towards your dorm. as he begins to sound out the password, you cut him off. “look dream, i like you okay?” dream nods with a sly smirk, “but not enough for you to come in.” patting him on his back, you tell the lady the password and walk into the common room. his smirk falters as you leave him standing outside the common room door. dream’s eyes stay on you until he fat lady closes the portrait door. “rejected!” she sings before dream walks away with the roll of his eyes.

the next day at around nine twenty, you walk up from your bed. “oh my god!” you yell checking the time. running to your bathroom, you turn the your sink on quickly, brushing your teeth and your hair before running out to go change. at nine twenty five, you run down the busy halls, occasionally bumping shoulders with some random people. “y/n? where are you going?” fundy asks while watching you run. you stop briefly, “date. dream. waiting. late.” breathing out each word slowly due to your lack of breath. as you begin to start running again, phil and fundy watch you receding figure. by nine thirty two, you make it to the entrance of the bridge, seeing dream standing there with a small smile on his face. “you’re late.” you let out coughs and heave out heavy breaths before speaking again. “sorry. i woke up later than expected.” while you try to catch your breath, dream stares at you lovingly before getting a mischievous glint in his eyes, “am i that breathtaking y/n?” a frown appears on your face before you begin to walk back towards the castle, “no, y/n. i was kidding.”he chuckles as he grabs your hand, the warmth from his hand immediately seeping into your cold hand.

after walking around for a while hearing the crisp crunch of the snow, dream’s hand remains in yours. to be honest, he hasn’t even let your hand go since the beginning of your date. while you were at honeydukes, he held your hand, at dervish and banges, he held your hand, scrivencraft’s, dream. hand. your. hand. he would constantly whine whenever you tried to let go and if you did, he would opt to putting an arm over your shoulder. you walk around with dream until finally reaching the three broomsticks.

you tell dream to get the two of you a table while you go to order drinks. while you wait to pick up the drinks at the counter, you turn around to see dream with a posse full of girls around the tiny table. with the role of your eyes, you dismiss his cocky attitude and turn back towards the lady making your drinks. “is that the boy you came in with?” you life your head off of your palm and look up at the older lady, “yes ma’am.” loud giggles could be heard from behind you as you continue to ignore them, your clenched fist turning slightly whiter by the minute. the older lady looks down at you with sympathy, “you’re jealous.” taken aback from her absurd comment, you look at her with disbelief and large eyes. “jealous? jealous of that?” you say while turning around to point at dream and the girls basically hanging off of his body. “there’s a certain amount of pride a lady can hold herself to and there is no way i’m stooping down that low. sure, call me jealous if you want, but don’t compare me to that mess over there.” you slam down one galleon and walk away from the counter and out the door. dream watches your whole interaction happen and abrubtly stands up after watching you exit the pub. “sorry ladies, but my girl needs some tending to.” he walks out, ignoring the symphony of pleads.

“stupid. stupid. how could i have gotten so mad. she was just making an observation.” you murmur to yourself, feeling apologetic to the older lady who was just as surprised as you after you went off on your tangent. you sit on a bench, which overlooking the mountains near the school. you hit your head with the palm of your hand continuously until a warm hand stop you. “why’d you run away bunny?” you slip your wrist out of his grasp, “not run. walked. and it was because of something that happened to me and the waitress. she may or may not have said something i disagreed with and i may or may not have gone off about it at her.” dream sits down next to you, leaving no space in-between the both of you despite the bench being able to seat four people. “oh bunny-“ once again annoyed, you interrupt him, “why are you calling me bunny?” he chuckles as he watches you stand up to walk off, “because,” dream reciprocates your action and stands up as well, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you into his chest. “despite you being in gryffindor, you’re like a cute bunny to me. you’re the smartest person i know and love being around people. despite those traits, you are also bratty, willful and vengeful. it takes a certain person to deal with me and you work with me. we’re like the modern life lady and the tramp.” hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his waist.

“now bunny, what did the lady say to you?” you let out a small murmur of no before pulling away from him. “you don’t need to know.” a mischievous smile erupts on his face, “but i want to know.” you shake your head in response, “but you don’t need to.” with a slight side step, you stare up at the boy. “bunny.” he replies sternly, “if you don’t reply in five seconds, something bad is going to happen to you.” he uses his fingers count down to zero, “five, four, three,” in the meantime, you begin to run away from the boy, “get away from me!” you yell as you try to the reach the sanctuary of the presence of other students. before you could, you get tackled to the ground, “i asked you nicely y/n.” a second before you could repent, he begins to tickle you. “no. i’m sorry. i’ll tell you.” you wheeze out, “its too late bunny.” he continues to tickle you for what feels like hours, on the cold snow on the ground, until he gets tackled off of you, “get off of her!” you sit up to see fundy on top of dream, pinning his hands down while sapnap grabs dreams legs. their interrogation of dream gets interrupted by your laughs. their attention gets turned towards you, “you dunces. he wasn’t attacking me, he was tickling me.” fundy and sapnap’s faces turns into a surprised look as they turn to look at each other before looking back at you and getting off of dream. “my bad bro. we didn’t know.” sapnap replies as he and fundy scurry off to the safety of philza.

you stare at dream with an amused smirk as he continues to lay on the ground, pouting at the sudden interaction. you reach your hand down to help him up, “why couldn’t you make friends with hot girls that would tackle me.” before he could grab your hand, you pull it back and walk away, teasing him. “wait y/n, are you actually offended from what i said?” dream stands up and jogs over towards you, “cause i love that you have friends in general.” your face scrunches up as you stare him, “okay, fox.” now it was time for his face to scrunch up, “what did you just call me.” he says, not stating it as a question but rather a statement. “i called you fox.” his eyesbrows raise in confusion, “i’m bunny and you’re fox.” dream stares at you before grabbing your hand and walking towards the castle, “okay, i’ll be fox if you’re bunny.” smiles erupt on both of your faces as you continue to joke around on your trip towards the castle.

the first time you say i love you back to dream is from the day he pouted the entire night and while also hiding from you in the safety of his room. “beau, what’s wrong with you today?” when he finally looks up at you, he tries to keep a stern expression, but it falls into a smile as he pulls you close to him. “why don’t you ever say i love you back?” small chuckles erupt from your body as you play with his dirty blonde hair, “because i thought you knew how much i loved you. but if you need confirmation, you could’ve just told me.” he groans in slight embarrassment, “i love you so much to the point that i would do anything you ask me to. i would even kill sapnap for you.” now it was dream’s turn to chuckle, “thank you y/n. i love you too.” for the rest of the night, he didn’t let you go, meaning, you had to sneak back into your common room at four in the morning, hiding from the watchful gaze of philza.

about five months pass, and your relationship with dream prospers. at any quidditch game, you or him would be spotted in the crowd, or actually versing each other. in that case, he would stay so close to you, occasionally throwing around flirty comments at you or basically handing you the bludger. other times, when you study in the library with techno or phil, he always sits in the corner of the library with george, never being secretive. “what george? say that again.” leaving you to ignore him. whenever parties occur, you always try to walk around and mingle while he attaches himself to your side, greeting everyone you talk to. when he gets deadbeat drunk, he becomes clingy times one million, “y/n, don’t leave me.” and you reply, ‘this is my room.” cries and loves to snuggles into your neck when you come back a minute later. you’re not gonna lie but man is in lsg, little spoon gang. he loves being little spoon when he’s drunk but sober dream is another story. always has to be big spoon to keep his reputation up and has absolutely no recollection of being little spoon, so its your little secret with drunk dream. when you do your homework, he lays on your bed, usually taking a nap despite his eight page essay being due the next day. weekly hogsmeade dates, will literally buy you anything you set your eyes on, not even caring about the price. sometimes you wonder where that money even comes from. in total, will chase you down nonstop while you run away from his antics.

your relationship is well known around the school as the complex bunny and the sly fox.

philza still doesn’t approve though.

740 notes · View notes

mellowyandere · 3 years

Text

This isn't something a healing quirk can fix

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might)

Summary: While out saving the day All Might is hit with a quirk that only you can cure. Upon finding him vulnerable, you really shouldn’t have pushed your luck.

Length: 4K oops

Warnings: non-con, aphrodisiac, yandere themes, size kink, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering.

You were in the kitchen making a snack when you heard the familiar clicking of locks on the front door. You tensed a bit at the sound, knowing it meant the arrival of your captor. All Might, or Toshinori as he insisted you called him, had abducted you about 3 months back. It had occurred after he had saved you from a horrific villain attack. You had no clue why he had chosen you out of the group of star struck civilians, but now you wish you had just walked away after your near death experience. How you wish you could take back the unused handkerchief you offered the pillar of peace that you had carried around due to your cold at the time. You just wanted to help in what little way you could, but somehow it was the catalyst for your new life.

Despite you being locked up in his home, Toshinori had yet to do anything you thought a kidnapper would do. He kept his hands to himself for the most part, and was somehow content with your silent and gloomy company. At first you had been confused but ecstatic to wake up to the hero, but the facade quickly wore off with a puff of smoke and a pathetic explanation for why you couldn’t leave. Anger had morphed into sorrow, and was now almost an empty feeling. He never pushed you for anything, except to ensure you stayed healthy. Despite his large frame the man was a shadow in his own home as he attempted to give you space to adjust.

But it had been 3 months and you were starting to go crazy from the lack of genuine contact. Alas your pride prevented you from reaching out to him for it.

The sound of the front door opening and heavy boots making their way inside pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. You paused, waiting for him to call out in greeting like he normally did, but nothing came. The door closed, locks clicked, and then some shuffling was heard before the creaking of the stairs indicated he was headed to his room.

It was odd. Very uncharacteristic of him. Even on his worst days he never failed to find you, ensuring you were still here and giving you a quick hug. You set down your snack materials and quietly walked out the kitchen towards the stairs near the front door.

Was he alright? Did you do something to upset him? Wait, why did you care? Pushing down your internal dilemma you found yourself at the bottom of the staircase. Looking up you could see he had a small amount of light bleeding out of his bedroom. And then you heard it, the rattling of metal. What the hell was he doing? You took slow anxious steps up the stairs, needing to know why he was acting so strange.

You stilled as you reached the landing. His bedroom was quiet now except for the occasional pained exhale of breath. If he didn’t want you to come in then he would have closed the door right? Your ears were ringing as you strained to hear anything else, but that was all.

Hesitantly you reached out, hand making contact with the cool wooden door as you gently pushed it open.

“Toshinori? Are you alrig-” The words died on your lips as the bed came into view. Toshinori was strapped down, odd blue restraints keeping him tethered to the bed. He was almost completely naked save for his boxer shorts, which looked to be on the brink of ripping due to his strained erection. His body was flushed red, with a thin layer of sweat coating him. His arms were bound to the headboard, and his feet to the end of the bed

“Y/N ple-please you have to leave.” The words coming out of his mouth did not match the desperation in his dark eyes. Your brain was stuttering as you attempted to figure out what was going on. Your feet shuffled you further into the room, taking advantage of your shock and overriding your more rational thoughts.

Peering over at his nightstand you noticed a counter ticking down. It currently had a little under 36 minutes on it. Toshinori jolted against his restraints causing you to jump a bit in surprise as you took note of him again.

“Please just leave for now, this will be over soon. I-I was hit by an unknown quirk, but the villain said that I wouldn’t feel like this after an hour. I just have to wait it out so ple-please..” You couldn’t tell if he wanted to ask you to stay or leave. His face was scrunched in pain as he began to cough a bit.

You weren’t exactly sure what the villains quirk had done to him, but judging by his strained boxers it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. The number one hero was completely vulnerable before you. When was the last time you had touched another person? Toshinori’s quick hugs hardly counted as human contact.

“How do you plan on getting out of this?” You approached the side of the bed as you questioned him, hand running against the soft fabric of his sheets. His eyes followed your every move, body beginning to strain against the blue ropes of light.

“When the timer is up these will automatically turn off..” Which means you had 33 minutes to do anything you wanted.

Slowly you began to crawl up on the bed. It was ridiculously large, but so was the man currently tied to it. You had no ill intentions for him. He might be your kidnapper, but he was also the number one hero. You couldn’t take him away from society, they needed him.

You were in complete control of this situation, to an extent, which was something you hadn’t felt for a long time. You made your way over to him, not missing his little groans of frustration as his wiry muscles flexed in anticipation. With his shirt off his prominent scar was on full display. Normally he did his best to hide it from you, but now he had no where to run.

You reached out and placed your hand on his abdomen, the edges of the large wound just under your fingertips. His flesh was hot. Toshinori let out a low whine at the contact, hips rutting upwards at the feeling of your cool fingers. His large frame trembled as you began to feather your fingers over his exposed flesh.

“Pri-princess please” Your hand stopped as you looked up into his vibrant blue eyes. The look he was giving you was absolutely searing. He had never called you that before. You were pushing your luck, but would he really punish you for anything once he was free?

You can recall the times where you used to spit venom, hands shaking with rage and the desire to hurt him as he calmly sat by, never so much as raising his voice at you. No, he wouldn’t punish you. You’d be fine to push it, to scratch the need for contact.

With your mind set you crawled closer to him, heart beating hard against your ribcage as you pushed down the voices telling you to stop. Throwing your leg over his lean torso you found yourself straddling him. You hovered over his immobile body, trailing your eyes up his sun kissed skin until finally reaching his blazing blue orbs.

You shrunk a bit at the intensity of his gaze. His jaw was clenched shut, you could almost hear his teeth grinding against each other. You needed to leave. And yet you couldn't find it within you to go. Breaking away from his heated stare you realized the timer was at 24 minutes. You didn’t want to be here when his restraints turned off so you best do what you wanted now.

You sat up, gently lowering yourself on his lower abdomen. You didn’t dare turn around, not keen on seeing his arousal. All you wanted was to feel the warmth of his body against you for just a little bit, not relieve whatever feeling he was going through. It was your way of punishing him for uprooting your life.

Your hands rested against his expansive pectoral muscles. Even in his smaller form he was so much larger than you. Despite the limited time you had you felt powerful like this. Toshinori's soft groans made heat rush to your face. Even injured he was still a very attractive, and currently helpless, man.

Your hands slid further upward, ghosting around his long neck, until you were softly cupping his hollow cheeks. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed as he moaned out. Toshinori was at a loss for words. Though his mind was foggy with lust he fought to cherish every touch you gave him.

As the timer continued to tick down you decided on one last thing before slinking off to your room. Leaning down you angled your head for his neck, soft lips meeting hot flesh. The blond bucked beneath you, deep groans of frustration rumbling through him.

You sucked on his neck gently, nipping at the flesh. His skin was a bit salty from sweat but you didn't mind. Pulling away with a satisfied hum you looked down at the small mark you had left on him. You were in control. His eyes were wide open, pupils fully dilated as he wriggled in his confinement. Peering over the timer read just under 11 minutes. It was time to go.

You made quick work of crawling off of him, ignoring his soft whines of protest.

“Goodnight Toshinori.” You didn’t want him to think this would extend any longer than it already had. Making your way off of the bed you scurried out the room, not paying him any mind as he called your name.

Fleeing to your room you closed the door behind you. Your stomach growled in annoyance due to your abandoned snack, but after what you had just done it would be wise to lay low. Grabbing one of the many books Toshinori had given you, you crawled onto your own ridiculously large bed and settled down. You tried to nurse the anxiety you felt clawing at your chest. Surely Toshinori wouldn't punish you right?

You stared at the page in front of you, incapable of reading a single word. As you continued to second guess your actions you yelped at the sound of a large crash. Clutching the book to your chest you held your breath in anticipation. The door to your room slammed open without warning.

Chucking the book in terror you tried to jump off the bed to put some distance between you and the crazed hero but you never stood a chance. His large frame was on you before you could even get your feet under you and you were immediately pressed into the plush mattress face down.

“I’m sorry, Toshinori I’m so sorry please!” Your cries fell on deaf ears. Toshinori couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, which as of right now he didn’t. The burning in his veins was one hundred times worse once the timer ended. The villain was right, he didn’t feel the same as he did a little while ago. He felt feral, touch starved, and desperate to devour you.

Hooking an arm under your waist he hoisted you up so he could rut his large erection against your ass. Whimpers and groans tumbled past his thin lips.

“So-so perfect princess. So be-beautiful. Gonna take good care of you. Your hero is here.”

“Toshinori please! You’ll hurt me, you’re not in the right mind!” You needed to get through to him, judging by his hard length pressed against you there was no way he would be able to fit. The behemoth of a man above you stopped moving, though he didn’t release you from his grasp.

“Princess I’m so sorry, but I can’t stop.” In the blink of an eye he flipped you over so you were looking up at him. His long bangs hung down and you were surprised to feel wetness fall onto your cheeks. His bright blue eyes were swimming with tears.

“It hurts so badly, I’m so sorry.” His face was scrunched in pain as he stared down at you. The number one hero All Might couldn't handle the pain of this quirk? There was no way, he had to be using this as an excuse.

Which is exactly what he was doing, tears of pain and guilt raining down as he gave in to his pent up sexual frustration. He moved fast, picking up your body while sitting up and pulling you into his lap as he leaned back against the headboard. One of his lanky arms kept you firmly rooted against his chest despite your struggles. You were just so weak compared to him. Your ass was pressed right up against his monstrous hard on which filled you with dread. He was going to split you in half.

His free hand took up residence on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. His hot pants fanned out against your neck causing you to shiver. His large hand began to trail upwards before gently cupping your sex through your shorts. If it was even possible he pulled you even tighter against his chest, mouth coming down to nip and suck at your exposed neck. Revenge for the mark you left on him earlier.

“Fe-fear not my little princess, I am, shit, I am here.” He was babbling as he began to rub his fingers against your clothed core. Little groans and sniffles accompanying his rambling.

“N-no Toshinori, All Might, please.” But there was no getting through to him. He shredded your shorts with the flick of his wrist, exposing your underwear. He hummed lowly in contemplation at your lack of wetness, his fleeting rational thoughts knew you needed to be stretched and wet for him.

Your underwear soon fell to the same fate as your shorts, exposing your cunt to the cold air. His fingers returned, softly playing with your outer folds. You groaned at the contact. It had been so long since someone touched you there, or anywhere in general, that your body was more than happy to respond to the lean blond behind you.

Before long you both were more than aware of the wetness seeping out of your core. He had yet to dip a finger inside, instead opting to tease your entrance as more and more of your arousal slipped out. Your fear had now blossomed into intense sexual frustration. He was getting back at you for earlier.

You rutted your hips into his hand, ass grinding back against his cock as you whimpered out in frustration. His breathy laugh against your neck only serving to further annoy you. “You were a bad little girl running away earlier, I’ll have to teach you a lesson. I le-let you get away with too much.”

As he chided you his index finger slid down until it was over your hole, his thumb sliding up to nudge against your clit. His tears had long since dried as he allowed himself to fully indulge in his new found sexual courage.

Gently his long and thick digit began to breach you, your velvety walls clamping down eagerly after being teased for so long.

“Shit so tight princess,” he hissed into your ear, causing you to clamp down again as he slowly pumped his finger in. It took everything in him to not forgo preparing you and slam his aching cock into you, but he would never forgive himself for hurting you.

His thumb tweaked your clit as he continued to delve deeper until finally his knuckles were pressed up against your slick outer lips. The coil in your lower abdomen was tight as you desperately tried to keep it together. You didn’t want to cum because of him, your pride still shining through. That was until he pulled his finger out and added another.

It was too much and you whimpered and moaned as your hips bucked forwards, walls clamping down on his fingers that weren't even halfway in yet. His thumb kept up the assault on your clit as he groaned at the feeling of you cumming on his hand.

His length flexed eagerly against your back, but he knew you weren’t ready yet. Taking advantage of the wetness due to the after math of your orgasm he began to work a third finger in. At this you couldn’t help but cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Your cunt burned a bit at the stretch as you tried to escape his deft fingers.

“Sh-shh it’s okay princess, I’m here, don’t worry. You’re doing so, fuck, so good. Just a little bit m-more.” He peppered the side of your face with kisses as he continued to work you open. The pain began to melt away as he gently finger fucked you until yet again he was knuckle deep.

He didn’t move, holding his hand still inside you as he took labored breaths. This was the extent of his self control, you were as prepared as you were going to get. You cried out as he moved, yet again, faster than you could keep up with. His hand was gone and before you knew it he had you splayed out beneath him with your shirt no longer on.

Somehow he had managed to remove his boxers when he had shifted positions, his long erection bobbing proudly above you. His tip was drenched in pre cum, a testament to his will power. Thick veins lined his monstrous length. Curly blond pubic hair trailed up at the base before tapering off below his belly button. He licked your wetness off his fingers, humming in satisfaction before stabilizing himself above you.

There was no fucking way that was going in. But judging by the love sick and pained expression on his face, you didn’t have a choice. Toshinori felt like he was on fire, his insides were burning with pain and lust beyond anything he had ever experienced. Your skin was the only remedy from this madness, the velvety walls of your perfect cunt the cure.

Without wasting anymore time he lined his tip up and began to push in. Your hands came up and slammed against his chest, legs thrashing as you tried to stop him.

One large hand easily captured both of yours and pinned them above your head. He used his own body weight to pin your legs down, making sure to keep them spread as he kept his eyes transfixed on where you two were connected.

“Too much, you won’t fit please stop.”

He ignored you, too lost in his own lust as the aphrodisiac clouded his mind. His hips began to dip and retract with the slightest of movements as he opened you beyond what his fingers had been able to do. You gritted your teeth in frustration and pain, tears slipping out. He looked up and scrunched his face in worry at your expression. Leaning down he kissed your tears off your face while whispering his love and devotion to you.

He hated seeing you like this, hated doing this to you. But he couldn’t stop himself. Inch by inch he pumped into you, your tight walls every so slowly accommodating him. Licking his thumb, he brought it between your two bodies and gently began to stimulate your clit.

Despite how desperate he was to slam into you with reckless abandon he took his time working you open, he wasn’t the number one hero for nothing after all. Your groans of pain were beginning to be replace with whimpers and soft moans of pleasure, spurring him on until finally he was fully sheathed inside your tight pussy.

Never before had you felt this full. Looking up you were a bit taken aback to see a large and genuine smile plastered on Toshinori’s face. His perfect teeth gleamed in the dim light as his eyes shone with a sickening amount of love and adoration.

“So tight princess, let's see how well you take me. N-no crocodile tears to try and slow me down, after all I did say I was going to teach you a lesson.” It was a flimsy excuse to help him rationalize what he was doing, but for now it would do.

With that Toshinori began to increase his tempo, pulling halfway out before pressing all the way back in. His tip hit your cervix with every return, causing you to cry as discomfort and pleasure were rocked into you.

As he increased his tempo he leaned down, mouth claiming your own as he held you down beneath him. He was overwhelming you with his thumb working your clit while his tongue and cock plunged into you. Your walls fluttered around him as you felt another orgasm approaching.

His teeth gnashed against your own, moans mixing with yours as he felt the change in your body. You arched your back, hips rocking up to meet his own. Pride be damned, you needed this. You needed him. Releasing your hands Toshinori’s large hand gripped your hip, pushing you down as he angled his slim hips in search of what would push you over the edge.

Your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his hair, tugging on his soft blond locks and eliciting a deep groan from the man. He knew you were close, there was no other way you would be so willing beneath him. A couple more pin point thrusts was all it took. Toshinori pulled away from you, fully sheathing himself inside your tight cunt as it clamped down on him.

You were beautiful. Eyes closed shut as moans tumbled passed your kiss swollen lips. He loved the way your body rocked against his, it was a sight he made sure to cherish. Who knew when he'd be able to do this again, to see you so emotive and vulnerable below him.

As you came down from your high you mind began to clear a bit. Your hands fell from his hair in exhaustion. Toshinori's thick cock was still buried inside you, twitching as if he was doing everything he could to hold out. But soon he began to move again, the aphrodisiac still controlling him.

He slammed into your spent body with renewed vigor, his only goal now to chase his own release. Your hands flew up, grasping his forearms as you braced yourself against him. His breathy groans of satisfaction and words of loving affirmation tumbled from his mouth as he watched himself fuck you.

It wasn’t much longer until he stilled again, this time for his own release. You could feel it. Thick ropes of cum released right against your battered cervix. He stayed that way for a while, relishing in not only post orgasmic bliss, but the disappearance of the burning from the aphrodisiac.

“Thank you princess, it seems today you got to save me.” Leaning down he peppered your face with kisses as he spoke.

You didn’t bother responding. You didn’t have it in you to do anything but wait for him to pull out. Eventually he did, and you couldn’t help but cringe a bit as he cum seeped out your abused hole. Toshinori flopped down to your left, slinging his arm over your waist and drawing you close, tucking your head under his chin.

Your stomach growled out in frustration, cutting through the silence, which pulled a hearty laugh from the hero. You couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Despite everything you had been through, the feeling of being lovingly touched had sparked something inside you. You knew it was wrong to feel this way, but right now it was easier to give in to this feeling of warmth than to fight it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and something to eat hmm princess?”

“Ye-yeah.. that sounds nice Toshi”

#yandere toshinori yagi #yandere all might #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #tw: noncon #aphrodisiac

609 notes · View notes

bokettochild · 3 years

Text

Day 4 - Trust Fall

Went with the prompt 'taken hostage' for this one, and I'm quite pleased. I might follow it up from another prompt on the list, but I quite like how it ended.

Suffer :)

There are many people who hate the Hero of Warriors.

It was a well-known fact, and something that had haunted him since the ends of the war, but he couldn’t exactly blame the folks who did. After all, it was for lust of the hero that Cia had killed so many, and there were families all across Hyrule who had lost loved ones because the hero had refused the affections of one lonely, corrupted woman.

Zelda had tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but that changed nothing; people had still died because of Cia’s lust, and still more had died because of his own over-confidence. So, when he walked the streets of Castletown and the people who wanted to thank him faded to the background as a single soul would stand and spit insults loaded with venom more poisonous than a deku baba, he would take their words and let them speak, never once challenging them, even when his men would protest and beg for permission to reprimand his attacker. Zelda had pleaded for him to stop, claiming that he lowered the moral of the army by not carrying himself strongly and with honor, but how could he rob someone of their voice when he’d already robbed them of everything else?

There was one upside to it all though; when Warriors met Legend, there was nothing the younger hero could say that could truly hurt him. Legend would huff and complain and tease and jab, but his insults were a gentle nudge in comparison to the hearty shoves into boiling lava that he’d seen from his own people, and he welcomed the verbal sparring with the other hero. It was nice to be able to speak back without having guilt rise in his chest, and he enjoyed getting to tease and bother the veteran hero in return.

In that manner, an unlikely friendship had formed between a hero who hated soldiers and a soldier who hated being a hero.

He was close to all of the others of course; Sky, Wild and himself would spend hours discussing their worlds and the systems of knights and training and the like. Time and Wind, his boys and the pride of his heart, would mess around with him and it warmed him body and soul to offer them advice or comfort after a long day (and having the two of them cuddle up when they thought no one was looking was an extra warm bonus on multiple fronts).

Four was- well, there was no words for the relationship he shared with the smithy. It was a relationship of exchanged looks and mutual silence. One of two brothers who knew each other as well as if they’d actually been born to the same mother, and who could read the others actions as if they were reading their thoughts. It was them flopping over each other and Four climbing onto his shoulders to reach things, it was him throwing the smithy bodily up towards high places and leaning on the top of his head when he was drained or feeling playful.

Wild and Hyrule were his baby brothers, the chaotic ones who he was helping to bring up right, the boys who needed a guiding hand and a firm voice to push them and guide them, but who reveled in warm hugs and teasing or encouraging words.

And Twilight? Twilight was his sparring partner, his closest brother and the one he’d probably end up socking in the face one day. There was enough said on that front. Legend very nearly made the same rank, except...

Except Legend was, truth be told, as much a kid as the others and despite their verbal battles, he didn’t think he could actually ever hit the kid for real, no matter how often he cuffed the pink head or pushed the short vet over in jest, he didn’t think he could ever cause the younger hero harm. Yeah, yeah, so maybe it was the big brother and father in him that said he wouldn’t live with himself if he hurt the kid, but it was also the soldier and captain that saw a reflection of every cocky recruit he’d ever trained and a certain mask wearing child in the vet’s painfully rare smiles and much more common snarky comments.

And he just couldn’t bring himself to hurt a kid in the first place.

No matter how much of an ass they were being.

“Seriously though, how have you not died?” Legend was scoffing, but the vet’s arms were wrapped tight around himself as the kid rolled his eyes. “I mean, one bokoblin? How is that the first time an enemy has ever grabbed your scarf?”

Warriors would have laughed it off with a tease about the vet’s lack of leg protection, but he could see the worry shining in violet hues and feel the tender bruising that wrapped around his own neck. He hardly remembered the last battle, adrenalin and the concussion had seen to that, but legend had been weirdly snappish with him since, yet simultaneously clingy in a way that was painfully uncharacteristic of their salty veteran. “Most monsters are just dumb.” He’d shrugged off at last, but Legend hardly looked contented, picking at his tunic and scowling at his boots as if there was something more he wanted to complain about or say, but he lacked the words to say it.

Oh goddesses, the vet really was like Mask, wasn’t he? All bashful worry and fussing disguised as insults and annoyance, but underneath just a kid who desperately needed the assurance that the people around him weren’t seconds away from death.

“I’ll be fine, you grouchy little bumblebee.” He scoffed, tugging at one of the vet’s long ears, just as he did with Time when the now older hero was getting to wrapped up in his head. “We’re in my world anyway and the monsters here are dumber than rocks.” Usually he’d just say ‘dumb as rocks’ but they’d met a talus in Wild’s Hyrule and he couldn’t honestly think of that phrase the same way since.

“Black blood makes them smarter.” Legend huffed, batting his hands away with a scowl, nose wrinkling up in an almost adorable manner as he sidestepped a swipe at his hair. “And I just fixed that thing for you, I don’t want to have to do that again.”

So much like Time had been, did the vet see it? Just like his middle kid and it was messing with his brain in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. How upset would Sky be if he gathered Legend in amongst his boys as well? The Skyloftian wasn’t particularly possessive of his descendants and he might not mind sharing responsibility over the vet. He’d have to ask, but only once he was sure Legend was out of earshot, the kid was barely tolerant of Sky coddling him, and even then, usually only when he was sleepy or scared shitless.

“Are you listening, Captain? I’m not mending that scarf again this week, you ass.” Legend flicked his ears, irritation at being ignored coloring his face with a scowl that quickly faded into surprise as a blue heap of fabric settled over his head and shoulders. Of course, the surprise disappeared too once Legend’s face was covered with the tail end of the scarf, and he had to grab the back of the vet’s tunic to stop him from tumbling to the ground as he tripped over the rocky path.

“What the heck, Wars?!” The teen squeaked, fumbling with the fabric as the captain let a laugh rumble up through his chest into his throat.

“You keep fussing about the scarf, yeah? Well,” He reached out to tug the loose end down, chest thrumming with warmth as the pout on Legend’s face beneath the scarf and a fierce blush. “So how about you keep it safe for me, just for a bit.” He shifted the fabric again, arranging it to lay better around the veteran’s thin shoulders. “You can give it back after the next battle, yeah? Then you’ll know it’s not damaged.”

The pink-haired hero rolled his eyes at that comment, but Wars didn’t miss how the kid nestled in amidst the blue fabric with a soft hum.

Oh yeah, despite all the teasing, it was clear Legend liked the scarf as much as his other boys. He hoped Sun and Sky didn’t mind sharing too much, because there was no going back now.

“Dramatic arse.” Legend huffed, but despite the vet tugging the scarf up over his nose and mouth he still saw the grin the lay beneath.

Somewhere behind him, he could hear Time and Wind exchanging whispers while Twilight grumbled something exceedingly rude and fond all at once.

“Should we split up to find supplies then?” Sky asked, pointedly ignoring Twilight’s comment as he addressed the group as a whole, earning a thoughtful nod from Time.

“Probably best.” The man hummed out. “Groups of three, Hyrule and Wind, you’re with the vet, Four and Sky, you’re with Wars, Cub, Pup, I want you two with me, if something happens I want a responsible adult on every team, as well as someone who knows this Castletown well.”

Agreement thrummed over them as they split up, Wind catching his party members by their hands and pulling them off towards the tailor and apothecary shops so Legend could restock on thread and fabric and Hyrule could gather more healing supplies. Time’s group turned the opposite way, heading off into the main market square so Wild could restock on food stuffs and a new haversack for the traveler as Hyrule’s had had a hole worn in the corner that even Four doubted he could fix. Warriors himself led his team towards the fletchers and the forge, with the intent of buying more arrows and getting Four permission to repair a few of their weapons.

The chatter of the town was cheerier than usual, and to his surprise, not a single person spoke to him beyond the occasional inquiry about directions or an apology or insult after bumping into them. It was like he was invisible, or very nearly, and even those who made a point of calling out thanks or insults only waved cheerily to him as if he was just another passing soldier.

At the smithy, the Master Smithy, Gaepak, blinked in surprise for a good minute when Wars had approached to ask for use of the workroom. “Gen’ral? Is ‘at yew?”

He cocked a brow at the question. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

Gaepak boomed a nervous laugh, motioning to his own short neck with a faint flush on his face as his ears twitched lightly. “’Ard to tell you apart from yer men wit’out that scaaf of yers.” The man apologized, and the apprentice at the blacksmith’s side nodded nervously.

He couldn’t help back slip into a disarming smile (although he had to fight not to slip into their heavy accent as well when he spoke). “Quite alright, gentlemen. I’ve just let it out to one of-”

“Yer boys.” the smith nodded knowingly, earning a snigger from their own short-statured smithy and a light chuckle from Sky.

Warriors flushed slightly. Really, the people of Castletown knew him too well. “Yes, one of my boys.”

“An’ a moighty fine father ye are.” Gaepak drawled with a grin. “Use the forge ta yer ‘eart’s content.” The smith added, moving back to his own workstation with a cheery wink. “Jist moind ye clean it up when ya done.”

Four had shouted something of a reassurance before moving to the offered work station with shining hazel eyes and fingers already flitting over the available tools to familiarize himself with them. In the meantime, Sky had shot him a knowing smile, eyes twinkling as the captain had flushed softly.

Four was deep into his work and the two of them had already finished a lengthily talk and a trip to the fletchers when Wind and Hyrule had burst in, heavy breaths heaving through the two and a healthy flush over two sets of rounded cheeks as wild eyes had turned to the two adults.

“Wind, you can’t bust into a forge! Four shouted over the clang of metal. “It’s dang-”

“Legend was kidnapped.” Wind blurted out, voice strained and barely holding onto the collected and controlled report method Warriors had drilled into all of his soldiers during the war. Four’s hammer froze mid-air as the three had whipped around to face the two younger heroes, both knights stiffening instinctively as all laughter left their faces.

“What happened.” Warriors demanded, stepping forwards, jaw set and eyes hard as he met the sailor’s wavering gaze.

The aura of peace faded in instants, and soldier met the eyes of soldier as Wind snapped a neat salute. Unnecessary, yes, but trained into the kid by the other soldiers and probably a comforting sort of habit to revert to in the moment (Warriors felt the same about standing at parade rest as he listened to the kid’s report). “We were just entering the apothecary when a couple of folks approached Legend outside the door. He waved us inside to do our business while they talked, and Hyrule and I did as he asked. We gathered the needed supplies- that doesn’t matter though- the point is, when we were at the counter ringing up-”

“There was shouting outside!” Hyrule interrupted, fingering the strap of his faded satchel. “We thought it was just Legend being Legend, you know how he is but-”

“But then there was something of a scuffle and some bangin-”

“- and when we finished at the counter, because the man wouldn’t hurry up and refused to let us leave ‘till we’d been rung up-”

“Legend was gone!” Wind exploded, eyes shining with near panic as they met his own.

“Where were you exactly?” Wars demanded, mind already flitting across the list of people who were likely to have taken the vet. There weren’t many people the kid would have interacted with here, especially not alone, and saving the soldiers he’d accidentally embarrassed a couple of switches back (kid needed to wear some pants if he didn’t want to mistook for a girl) there wasn’t anyone he could really think of that would have cause to try anything. Sure, Legend’s winning personality might earn him a blow to the face from some of the rowdier townsfolk, but at worst he’d be left on the street on in an alley with a bruised face and a fractured rib or two, not taken away entirely.

As he considered, Four was already tidying up behind him only to have Gaepak wave them off with a worried look. “Moi boys will see to this ‘ere mess, don’t botha. Yew got a kid missin’ you go fetch ‘im, goodness knows Gen’ral that yew don’t need to be suff’rin’ that again.”

It was a bitter reminder, but he’d nodded his thanks all the same and grabbed ahold of Wind’s hand as he led the charge back into the street, Hyrule and Sky tagging along as Four made arrangements to come back later for the still cooling weapons before scampering out after them.

Searching Castletown’s streets would take hours, but after they’d run into one of his men, Bav, he’d filled the soldier in on the situation, and hardly had the words ‘my kid’ been out of his mouth before the other was nodding and agreeing to get the rest of the squadron to search the town. They’d found the others not long after, and the trio had dropped everything (even Wild’s slate for a hot second) to come rushing after them, their now two groups weaving in and out of alleyways and streets.

“Your wife?” A painfully familiar farm-wife had tutted. “First your poor daughter and now your poor wife. I’m sorry, luv, but I haven’t seen a thing.” Wind had crooked a smile at the groan Warriors had barely stifled as he led their group away, Sky and Hyrule both staring at the duo in confusion as they pressed further into the crowd.

Continued asking had brought up nothing, and after hours of trotting through the streets in a growing panic, Sky at his side and Hyrule nearly fluttering along with them, they’d finally been pulled aside by one of the soldiers and made to sit down in a guard-station long enough to drink some water and be caught up on the soldiers’ findings.

“Nothing yet, General Link, but we’ll keep looking. Until then, you should take a rest-” He’d moved to protest only to be cut off by a frown from one of his mates. “You’ll be run ragged by the time we hear word, and if the scamps intend harm of any sort, you’ll be in no state to help.”

He’d had to agree after that, but it hadn’t stopped him pacing while Sky held the other two close, rocking them softly and humming soft reassurances to the two smaller heroes that he’d bundled in his cape. The other four joined shortly after, Time demanding that Bav tell him what was happening and Twilight bundling over to grab Hyrule from Sky and curl up around him, the rancher’s nose buried in Hyrule’s curls as Four had settled between him and Sky, the smithies callused hands gently rubbing both their arms as he murmured soft reassurances to the others.

It was Wild that pulled him down to rest, flinty blue eyes sparking dangerously as the kid pulled him down to the ground and thrust something edible into his hands. Vaguely, he processed eating it, but his mind was too lost in spinning to take note if it was hot or cold or even what it tasted like.

When word finally came, it was with Bav’s face drawn and the entire guard having had to leave the post in wake of the nervous energy that flowed out from the exhausted heroes.

“Well?” He’d snapped to his feet, jostling Wild on accident as he did so and making the kid nearly toppled over with his sudden movement.

“An ultimatum, General.” Bav replied, clipped and carefully emotionless, even if there was pain in his eyes. “It’s addressed to General Impa, but-”

The note was snatched from waiting fingers before the other soldier had a chance to finish, and he was already breaking the seal as the man stepped back with a shake of his head and a murmured ‘poor man’.

The text that stared up at him stank, copper assaulting his senses as looping crimson script stared mockingly up at him. “General Impa,” The note read. “We have in our possession your branded puppet; the ‘hero’ of the war. We write to you now with a warning; should Hyrule and her queen not repay the debt owed to those fallen and forgotten, he will not be the first to pay the price.

“Repay that which is due, and release the prisoners who you hold unjustly under the claim of treachery. If this is done, your ‘hero’ will meet a kinder fate, and we may even allow you access to the corpse.”

The note was left unsigned, save a spattering of blood over where the signature ought to have been.

“A threat.” He choked, furrowing his brow and shaking his head. “It’s only a threat.”

“I wish, sir.” Bav’s eyes were downcast. “But they sent this as well.” A bundle, already unwrapped by the soldiers was offered to him. “But based on your description, that kid- I'm sorry, Sir.”

Trembling fingers tore aside the stained brown paper as he stared at the contents within.

A blood-soaked blue scarf stared back up at him.

#whumptober 2021 #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu warriors #lu wind #lu sky #lu legend #kidnapping #dad warriors #warriors' scarf #scarf #idiot writes angst #idiot writes whump #will I follow this up later?#who knows!#until then #draw what conclusions you please #about what's happened to legend #i have no regrets

83 notes · View notes

gamergirl929 · 3 years

Text

The Durmstrang (Hermione Granger x Reader)

After making the decision to transfer from Durmstrang Institute, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to get a much needed fresh start, you immediately meet The Golden Trio, who completely changes your life for the better, though one of them changes it more so than the others, and that is Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger nearly chokes on her punch when the doors to The Great Hall swing open and Igor Karkaroff walks in, but as she comes to learn moments later, he isn’t alone.

Harry couldn’t help but glance at Hermione when you walk in, wearing the same hat you’d worn the last time you were at Hogwarts, your long coat hanging from your shoulders, covering your red Durmstrang Uniform.

Everyone watches as you and Karkaroff struts through The Great Hall, the epitome of dominance and strength, your heads held high in confidence.

Hermione clears her throat, glancing away from you.

She’d never told anyone, though Harry and Ron caught on rather fast, that she’d been interested in you when you came to Hogwarts with the Durmstrangs, the girl surprised to see a woman among them.

She of course, didn’t have the nerve to tell you, not when you had women falling at your feet left and right.

Why would you be interested in someone like her?

You were everything that a Durmstrang should be, tall, broad shouldered and muscular, something Hermione couldn’t help but notice.

As she said though, she wasn’t the only on who noticed.

Girls clambered after you, all wanting to go to the Yule Ball with you, but you’d instead went alone, denying each and every one of your admirers a dance.

Though confident, you rarely talked, choosing to remain silent and observe rather than speak.

She’d seen you in the library multiple times, reading a new book each and every time.

Few words were shared between Karkaroff and Dumbledore before you turn on your heels and move through The Great Hall, all eyes on you.

You glance around The Great Hall, stopping only when your eyes settle on Hermione.

Hermione’s brown orbs widen when you stop beside her, a grin stretching across your face.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You motion to the empty spot beside her and she blinks rapidly.

The girl remains silent, mouth opening and closing a few times before she decides to nod instead.

The Great Hall fills with whispers, many of the girls glaring her way as you take a seat beside her.

“Hermione, right?” You smile kindly, Hermione’s cheeks flushing pink.

“Th-That’s-

Hermione stops midsentence, flustered that you’d even remembered her name.

“You know you have to be sorted before sitting down.” Ron gripes, and Hermione's eyes narrow.

“Ronald.” She growls.

You simply smile, brushing off his annoyed tone.

“I have been.” You say in a thick Bulgarian accent.

“So, you’re a Gryffindor?” Hermione asks and you nod.

“A Gryffindor.”

***

The start of your time at Hogwarts had been going better than you’d expected, all thanks to a certain bright and bushy haired Gryffindor.

Fate had brought the two of you together, well, more like Professor McGonagall did, asking Hermione to help you get settled in and show you around the castle.

Hermione had been instrumental in your adjustment from Durmstrang Institute to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, listening each and every time you complained about the new uniform.

Hermione was surprised to learn that beneath your bulky, muscular exterior, you were incredibly intelligent, and shy, though she should’ve known since you spent so much time in the library, alone in her 4th year.

Considering you spent so much time with Hermione, nearly every girl in then school was jealous, which meant being treated rather unfavorably, more unfavorably than usual.

Hermione is pulled out of her thoughts when you take a seat beside her in The Great Hall, a small smile stretching across your face.

“Hermione, I have not yet thanked you.” You grin, the woman’s brows arching.

“For what exactly?” She asks and you chuckle.

“You’ve made the transition here smoother than I thought it might be and I am rather grateful.”

Hermione’s cheeks flush when you take her hand, bringing it to your lips before kissing the back of it.

You give her hand a squeeze, releasing it with a charming smile.

Hermione clears her throat, obviously caught off by the gesture.

“Y-You’re welcome.”

You nod, turning towards your plate of food, completely unaware that the woman beside you is doing everything she can to bite back a giddy grin.

***

Luckily for you, Quidditch tryouts had yet to take place, meaning you had a chance of joining the team.

Hermione had come to the pitch to watch Harry, Ron and Ginny, but when she spotted you, a bat in hand she couldn’t help but grin, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering their wings.

The more time she spent with you, the fonder she’d grown, soon she didn’t see spending time with you as being your guide, she saw it as spending time with a friend, a friend she’d felt something more than friendship for.

Hermione’s attention snapped back to the pitch when you rose to your broom, along with the rest of Gryffindor.

Her brown orbs finding Harry as he flies around the pitch watching the others fly around the pitch, Chaser and Beaters alike.

Hermione grimaced as you flew full force at a Bludger catching it with your bat and smacking it towards an opposing Beater, nearly taking him off his broom, all the while wearing a cocky smirk.

You were skilled that was obvious, and it was also obvious that Harry zeroed in on that skill.

By the time practice ended, you were guaranteed a spot on the Gryffindor team.

What made getting on the team that much sweeter though, was when you realized Hermione was among those in the stands watching the try outs.

You make your way off the pitch, smiling when you realize Hermione was waiting, you figured she was waiting on Harry and Ron, but when she approached you, the two of you walking side by side, you smiled shyly.

“What did you think?” You ask and Hermione grins.

“You’re obviously incredibly talented and CERTAINLY fit to be a Beater.” She shrugs, your smile widening as your cheeks flush.

You stop, head cocking to one side.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused and Hermione’s eyes widen.

“I-I meant...” She stops clearing her throat. “I mean you certainly have the b-b-build.”

Your eyes widen, the two of you staring at one another, embarrassed.

“Blimey, why’s your face so red?”

The two of you jump, turning towards Harry and Ron who’d decided to join the two of you, Ron looking utterly confused, whereas Harry looks at the two of you knowingly.

You rub the back of your neck, the flush on your cheeks disappearing as you stand up straighter, unwilling to allow yourself to look anything but intimidating in front of anyone who wasn’t Hermione.

“See you at dinner?” You ask with a smile and Hermione nods, hugging the book she was carrying to her chest.

“Of course.”

You turn, giving Ron and Harry a nod before you strut off.

Hermione watches you go, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and cheeks dusted pink. She gives her head a shake before turning to Ron and Harry, the two boys sharing a glance.

“Fancy the Durmstrang, do you Hermione?” Harry teases and the woman rolls her eyes, huffing before she marches off.

Ron glances at Harry.

“You really thing she fancies the Durmstrang?” He whispers and Harry nods.

“Oh, she does.”

***

Weeks passed and soon, it was time for Gryffindor's first Quidditch match, a match against Slytherin, their most formidable foe.

Hermione makes her way through The Great Hall, brown orbs darting from face to face in search of you.

“Looking for your girlfriend Mudblood?”

Hermione rolls her eyes at the sound of Malfoy’s voice.

She was about to simply ignore him when thundering footsteps sounded throughout The Great Hall, drawing literally everyone’s attention.

“What did you just say?” Hermione turns around, staring wide eyed at the scene before her.

You were standing over the blonde Slytherin, his eyes wide in terror as you glare down at him, wearing a look Hermione had never seen before.

“I-I-I…” He stutters, unable to look you in the eye.

Hermione gently grabs your arm.

“Y/N, he’s not worth it.”

You shake your head.

“I will not stand for him calling you that.” You growl angrily, your accent thickening as your anger rises.

“Y/N-

Malfoy tries to swallow the lump in his throat when you start growling at him in Bulgarian, your words rushed and jumbled.

You’re so angry you don’t even realize that Hermione is leading you away, your Y/E/C orbs locked with Malfoy’s as you spit venomous words at him in your native language.

You don’t even realize you’re being led to sit down until your bottom hits the seat across from Harry at the Gryffindor table.

You turn to Hermione, eyes narrowed.

She shakes her head.

“Malfoy isn’t worth it.” She whispers and you growl, turning back towards the blonde haired boy, shooting him a fierce glare.

Malfoy abruptly runs out of The Great Hall, his goons following behind him as he whines about contacting his father.

Your eyes stay locked firmly on The Great Hall’s entrance, waiting for the blonde to come back, of course he doesn’t.

You turn around to face Hermione, noticing the massive grin on Harry’s face.

“That was brilliant!” Ron exclaims with a grin, his mouthful of food.

Ron had been skeptical of you at the start, considering he wasn’t a fan of one, Victor Krum, but the more he saw how happy you made Hermione, happier than he’d ever seen her, the more he realized you were different than him.

“Little snake.” You growl, shaking your head.

“Malfoy is Slytherin through and through.” Ron shakes his head. “His father is a Death Eater after all.”

Only Hermione notices the slight flicker in your Y/E/C orbs after Ron says that, the look unlike anything she’d seen before.

You clear your throat.

“Draco is the Seeker for the Slytherin Team, right?” You ask Harry and the boy nods.

“He is.”

“Why?” Hermione asks confused and you smirk.

“Just curious.”

***

Draco Malfoy nearly falls off his broom when you use your bat to send the Bludger flying his way, intercepting it from smacking into Harry and instead smack it at the Slytherin seeker.

Hermione covers her mouth to hide her giggles, realizing now why you’d asked what Malfoy’s position was.

You’d been making his life a living hell since the whistle blew, using the Bludger to drive him, and other Slytherin players off course, which resulted in Gryffindor scoring a number of times.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot Harry zooming past you, obviously chasing after the Golden Snitch.

Malfoy follows your gaze, smirking, before he flies after Harry, the two soon neck and neck.

In a split-second decision you fly straight towards an approaching Bludger, the Gryffindor's watching you in surprise and shock as you jump to your feet, balancing on your broom as you double-fist your bat.

“HARRY!” You yell, grabbing the boy’s attention, the seeker slowing down as you slam your bat into the Bludger, sending it flying towards Draco who’s so enthralled with grabbing the Snitch, he doesn’t see it coming.

It smacks him in the shoulder, sending the boy falling to the ground, though it’s not a long fall considering the Snitch was so low to the pitch.

You smirk as he rolls cross the field, the Slytherin’s gasping in shock before they glare up at you.

Professor McGonagall shakes her head when the Gryffindor's cheer at Malfoy’s tumble.

You catch Hermione’s gaze in the crowd, a charming smile stretch across your face.

You send her a wink before you fly away, Hermione’s cheeks flushing.

Soon, the Gryffindor's are cheering for another reason, the whistle blowing loudly as Harry swipes the Snitch from the air, winning the match for the team.

You throw a fist in the air, letting out a cheer as Harry flies up to you, smacking your gloved had with his.

“Again, that was brilliant!” Ron says as he joins the two of you, smirking down at Malfoy who’s being carted off the field with the help of his usual goons and Professor Snape.

“I don’t think he’ll be calling Hermione a Mudblood anytime soon.” Harry smiles and you nod.

“If he does, I’ll take my bat to him.”

***

The second you step into the Gryffindor Common Room everyone cheers, Sheamus Finnigan patting you on the back, while Dean Thomas gives you a high five.

You almost immediately find Hermione in the crowd, the girl rushing towards you, throwing her arms around your neck, giving you a tight squeeze.

You stiffen for a moment, though when Hermione is about to pull away you reciprocate, wrapping your arms around her, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“You did absolutely amazing!”

Though after the words leave her mouth, she smacks your arm.

“What was that for!?” You ask, confused and Hermione’s eyes narrow.

“Are you mad!? Standing on your broom like that! You could’ve been injured!” She cries and your eyes widen.

Hermione’s eyes narrow when you start to smile.

“I’m serious! Why are you smiling!?” She smacks your arm again and you grin.

“I didn’t know you worried about me so much Hermione.” You shrug and she rolls her eyes.

“Well, of course I do! I-

Hermione’s mouth slams shut before she can start rambling, her brown orbs widening.

You surprise her by taking her hand, much like you had in The Great Hall, and press a kiss to the back of it, though this time your lips linger a bit longer before you pull back.

“I’m honored that you worry about me, Hermione.” You beam, the muggle born shuffling nervously on her feet.

“I-

You nod your head towards the cheering Gryffindor's.

“Would you like to accompany me to the celebration?” You ask, holding your arm out and Hermione shakes her head, giggling as she takes your arm.

“Lead the way.”

Alright, this is the first in what is going to be around a 13-14 chapter story, all of it apart from the ending has already been written, though I already have the end planned...

I just REALLY want to know what you guys think, I would really REALLY love to hear your opinions on the story so far and if you’d like to read more.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #hp au #harry potter au

568 notes · View notes

eremiie · 3 years

Text

broken promises

❥ angst | 3.9k words | eren x armin

❥ content: none. just pure heart break.

❥ the moment you’re born your soulmates words are etched into your skin, and the moment you meet them they disappear just as fast. so when eren meets armin why don’t his words go? and why does armin have to carry the weight of a wretched life on his shoulders? surely his fate is his fault.

this fic is a rendition of chapter 139! read at your own risk

this fic is for @mikaberries 4k collab event! my word was ‘broken promises’ and my ship was eremin! enjoy<3

ty to @arlerted for beta reading this fic!

"hey, why don't you put up a fight?"

those were the first words muttered to him.

"you're wrong! i'm not losing because i don't run."

those were the first words that made the black mark sprawled on eren's wrist begin to fade away, seeping from the tan skin and sprawling like dust onto the concrete he stood on.

the first words that made the blue of armin's eyes dazzle with interest, peering over his shoulder almost tumbling over to get a fresh look at what was holding eren's interest so well.

he knew what was holding eren's interest, he's seen it before with so many people close to him, he's heard stories from his grandparents. it couldn't be happening to him though? happening so soon? i mean he was just a kid, he—

"you're my soulmate..."

so if eren was his soulmate, why didn't the words disappear?

why were his first words to him not the ones scribbled on his skin?

nevertheless, armin wanted to grasp any hope presented to him. if eren was his soulmate he'd try his best to believe him. surely it was just a glitch in the system, maybe a phenomenon never discovered. but even then it didn't matter, because how eren's eyes gleamed at his bare wrist, eyes flicking from armin to his arm, to armin, it was all the confirmation armin needed.

still, on sleepless nights, when only the moonlight would beam through the window of the barracks leaving enough light for armin to peer down at the bare skin of eren's wrist and the words i promise on his own, he couldn't help but wonder if eren was really his.

his pale hand engulfs with eren's as eren drapes his arm over armin's waist. it was so welcoming. that same hand wraps him in blankets, it cups the soft skin of armin's cheek, it adjusts armin's ODM gear, it was the hand that armin, just by the way it moves so lovingly, would've suspected belongs to his soulmate.

it couldn't have been a mistake, mistakes with things like this just didn’t happen.

"i'm yours." eren's voice would grumble against the nape of armin's neck, breath fanning over the new goosebumps formed, and hand squeezing armin's a little tighter.

armin's breath hitches, swallowing his spit before adjusting himself until he was facing eren.

his eyes were so beautiful in the dim light. armin could admire every speck of blue that would dance across the green canvas, every slight glimmer of gold that reminds armin of eren's mother. it reminds him of the same glimmer that dropped onto the cold concrete when eren was deemed his.

eren blinks, once or twice, armin can't remember because his mind drifts farther than he wants, and untangles their hands, bringing one up to armin's cheek.

it's wet, a fresh tear falling from the corner of armin's eye that eren brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

when armin leans back to give eren a one over, he doesn't remember when eren’s hair got longer, when his eyes became so dull, or when his smile became a permanent pout.

his soulmate isn't supposed to be his and he lets the thought pull him away from reality more often than not. no matter how many times eren could repeat how they were meant to be it would never feel right.

there was a barrier in between them that kept armin farther away from eren than he wanted to be. a barrier that armin pounded against, aching to break and release him from the solemn thoughts that clouded his brain.

when eren wipes another tear that shines against armin's cheek, he pushes forward on the bed, pressing his forehead against armin's and closing his eyes so armin can't see them anymore.

the simple touch, the simple gesture brings armin back to reality and he can feel that familiar longing in the pit of his stomach, the furrow in eren's brow, and the newfound wetness of his cheek.

he doesn't mean to press his forehead so hard against eren's, but the closer he is to him, the more he can feel the warmth of eren's skin. he can silence the storm inside of him. maybe if he tries hard enough and sticks close to eren that barrier would break, at least crack.

eren's palm brings armin as close as possible by the back of his head until he can feel armin breathing on his chin. armin could tell eren that he wasn't meant for him over and over again, but there was no mark on his wrist anymore, no sign that screamed armin wasn't his in his eyes. as long as his skin was a clean slate, as long as he could spend restless nights with his lover, days laying in each other's arm's under the tree as they stared at the wall longing for freedom, armin belonged to him.

"will you still be mine when you leave for marley?" he cuddles closer to eren, hands sat against his lover’s chest as he takes pleasure in his presence.

eren reluctantly nods his head and presses armin closer, a soft press of his lips to armin's nose.

"i'll still be yours."

"and you'll—"

"i'll still be yours. until we see the rest of the world together; the flaming water, frozen plains, and snowfields of sand."

armin stifles noise and sinks down from where he was against eren’s forehead until his head is in the fabric of eren's shirt, hands grabbing at the cotton so tight that eren's afraid he might tear it.

eren's shirt is getting wet but he doesn't mind. he wants to cry too.

instead, he lets his thumb smooth over the same strands of blonde hair he plaits while sitting in a field of campanulas, and lets his hand lightly ruffle the tresses he watches armin toy with, contemplating if he should cut them or not.

the next time he sees armin they're cut.

the next time armin sees eren, his eyes are duller than that night they were tangled in each other's arms.

armin barely says a word to eren on the airship, there was nothing to be said. nothing to be said when sasha died, her blood staining the wood of the ship. nothing to be said after the conversation at the table, armin's blood being wiped away by the damp cloth in mikasa's hand.

he never had a voice like eren, but when he screams at him on the floor where he sits around shards of broken glass and spilled wine as mikasa tries to get him to stand, he uses eren's own voice against him— words so passionate and spat like venom at eren that he has no choice but to turn around for a mere second.

someone who could kill so plainly and drag his loved ones along, not shedding a single tear as he goes, didn't seem like the soulmate set for armin.

but the way eren turns around, a snarl on his face that juxtaposes the gloss of a limpid tear in his eye— for a second, just for a second armin thinks otherwise.

and when he looks down at his wrist, "i promise." still haunting him, he wishes the world was kind.

ᝰ

armin slams the door behind himself, leaving mikasa alone in the gloomy storage room.

it was his fault a darkened cloud was hanging over the room, his outburst at mikasa wasn't her fault— but how could she even think about eren with all the peril happening?

his breathing is heavy and the sounds of titans are right next to his ears, pounding and stomping their way across the ocean, across the world. it was so noisy, the screams outside, people running from falling debris. he wishes the noise would cease for only a moment so he could gather his thoughts.

armin wipes at his eyes in hopes that it would stop the way his vision begins to blur. he stumbles backward using his free hand to steady himself once he hits the brick wall behind him.

truth being, no matter how little the thought was he was thinking about eren too.

he pulls at his sleeve to further hide his wrist, teeth-gritting as he fails to hold back tears that slip from his eyes and onto the floor he stood on. they decorate the stone floors in lovely splotches, darkening the grey and creating spots that'd disappear with time. but, as long as armin kept crying the least likely the evidence would simply "disappear".

"i'm tired." his voice cracks and like a broken dam tears begin to flow free, sliding down his cheeks as his skin begins to flush. he knows he can't stop them now. he can't stop the thoughts in his head or the tears staining his cheeks. he wishes to relax and be at the ocean again, staring across the waves where he finally got a taste of what freedom was before it was snatched away again. "i hate this."

no matter how hard he wipes at them, they're never-ending. why does he have to be the boy whocries? who can't defend himself, the boy with the burden placed on him, the boy with no soulmate. "i hate this, i hate this."

his knees buckle and he allows himself to slide down the wall, ODM gear clinking as it hits the floor, the wall rough as it scrapes against the material of his shirt. it's easier to block out the cries of terror outside and instead bury himself in his hands to cry for someone to release him from this stress.

he's tired of the wrenching in his heart, thoughts being solely on the one he thought was destined for him. no matter how hard he tries to think of what was most important his mind can't help but wander back to calm nights with eren. what could've been and what he wished became.

how did he fall in love with someone so wretched? and how did they make him so wretched?

his sniffles are the only thing he can hear and his tears decorate the sleeves of his shirt— just like he decorated eren's the last night his arms cradled him close.

"i hate you. i hate that we have to kill you— you're," a sob breaks his sentence, but he's thankful for it because he didn't want to finish it anyway. the next words to come out wouldn't have been true. they would've just been a fit of anger and sadness that clawed at his heart, twisting it between its grasp and trying its best to break the little hope armin had left.

"we have to kill you." is what he says instead.

what was he doing? there was no time to sob, no time to cry over someone like eren. he would heed the words he told mikasa— there was no time to think about eren, he was a lost cause.

armin unsteadily picks himself off the ground, adjusting the gear around his waist and using the back of his hand to wipe stray tears. he's lucky no one came through or went out the doors— it would've just been another open performance of his weakness and it'd be proof that erwin was the one who should've been chosen that day.

he would let eren go and he would do what he had to do to save the people around him, it was the least he could do after erwin's death.

ᝰ

when his titan is standing in front of eren's colossal titan those words mean nothing.

it's the adrenaline that tames the pull on his heart. he's so close yet so far— his soulmate, no eren, is right there but here he was doing all he could to stop him.

there's no time to relish in the past, although it flashes in the back of his head. loose memories of what eren was and the monster he’s become.

he wants to remember eren's rough palms against his cheeks again, his natural warmth he radiates while he pulls armin close as possible. but he pushes the memories to the back of his head— they were nothing but an echo now.

he has to give it his all because he's sure eren isn't thinking the same way as him.

the mosaic of him holds pieces of eren in it and it was evident by the flicker of eren's passion in his eyes when he stares him down, fists raised and only a murmur of "why did it turn out this way?" leaving trembling lips.

when he throws a heavy arm at eren it's like it all happens in slow motion; first, a pounding in his skull, causing him to close his eyes at the twinge, then a burst of light flashing over his eyes, and albeit how they stayed close a blanket of white drops over his vision.

he loses his balance and wonders if eren has knocked him out yet, until he lands on a hard surface. the pale sand is grainy under his hands and for some reason, his mind is blank. the soft whirring of what sounded like wind whips past his ears. he's calm.

armin flutters doe eyes open, adjusting to the brightness of the light in front of him. it was oddly familiar. purples, blues, and greens surrounded the striking light— and the longer he stares forth, the more it reminds armin of a tree whose branches reach for the sky. he's mesmerized. this must be what space is— stars adorning the black mural, as rays of colorful light burst over the top of armin like pops of fire being sent into the sky.

it's beautiful, and armin's reminded of earth, of the comfort of life— even in the walls. maybe this was what he believed was on the other side of the walls when he was younger, and if he sat in front of his younger self and explained the sight in front of him, telling him this is what was out there, he was sure he would've believed it.

"armin."

the blonde whips his head around, meeting a face his memories know so well.

eren's skin is illuminated by the light of paths, a gleam in such familiar green eyes that he only ever thought he'd see in his dreams. his hands are pocketed and his hair is free, laying gently against the side of his face. bags pull at the skin below his eyes and a tired smile graces his face as he puts a hand out for armin to grab.

armin wants to grab it but he recoils, scrambling to stand up on his own and dusting the sand from his hands. his eyebrows are furrowed and he's scowling at eren as he crosses his arms.

he doesn't know what to say— he doesn't know where he is. he's still mad at eren, he can't just take him to a dream-like place and think everything is okay. he's killed so many people, he's dragged his friends into what could only be described as hell, and eren didn't know the toll he put on armin's life. he couldn't just waltz into it, destroy everything, and expect armin to just talk to him again.

armin seems to always be too caught up in his thoughts because when eren's palm– that's still as warm as he remembers– presses him to eren's chest it takes him a moment too long to realize. the ends of eren's hair that graze armin's nose is something he'd never thought he'd feel again.

eren shouldn't be hugging him, but he can't push him off— it hurts.

it hurts when eren's stray tears hit the top of his head and it hurts when eren clings to armin like he'll disappear if he lets go. the cries of "i'm sorry," are all armin can hear as eren sinks to the floor in front of him, weeping tears of agony and years of pain that he was never able to share.

eren knows he caused everyone pain, and he knows what he's done is unforgivable, and although he's caused everyone so many tears, eren needs to be the boy who cries this time.

armin shudders, impending sobs trying to wrack his body. his hand cups his mouth as he drops to his feet as well. when eren glances up at him with woeful eyes, he can paint a picture with those blue flecks and glimmers of gold that he finally gets to see again. he sighs shakily and turns his head away from eren in fear of the tears he was trying to blink back from falling.

armin lets eren explain himself.

he lets eren reduce him to a complete sobbing mess. all these months of asking himself why was all summed up to him, the only question being left unanswered being why he still had words slapped across his wrist. he doesn't dare to ask about it— he's sure he already knows the answer.

"so... you're going to die?" armin asks hesitantly, scrunching particles of sand in between his hands.

"i have to. i have to atone somehow."

it's the words armin knows would slip from eren's mouth but not the words armin wants to hear. leaning forward he places his hands on eren's shoulders, a pleading look across the ocean that was his eyes. at least that's how eren would describe it.

"but maybe there's a way we can fix this!"

eren gives armin a small smile, placing his hands over armin's so gently. "armin... you think i'll be free like you once all this is over?"

armin's pleading expression fades and is replaced by a dejected one, his lips falling and his eyebrows turning upwards. "eren..."

eren pulls armin close to him, hand in his hair once more, tangling through the blonde strands and burying his nose into them. they smell just how he remembered, even with how short his hair was now— like fresh linen and the smell of the ocean that lingers even after only one visit.

"eren," his eyes screw as he bawls into eren's shoulder while wrapping his arms around him. "but you promised."

armin pulls away just as fast when the thought hits him. he grabs eren's wrist and pulls it from his hair. "you promised! you said we'd see the flaming water... the... the frozen plains and the snowfields of sand! you promised!"

eren shakes his head profusely, more tears being shed as his hands come up to cup armin's own wet face.

armin's vision is obscured by his own tears and he rests his head in the palm of eren's head, indulging in the feeling because he won't get to feel it again.

he'll remember the intimacy he shared with eren from hearing his heartbeat in his ears as he laid against his chest to tracing the skin of eren's arm to lull himself to sleep. it wasn't fair that it had to be like this. that it had to be a mere reflection of what was, but it was his fault for being so gullible.

from the day he was still left with such a taunting mark he should've known that if his mark was still etched on his wrist, eren being his soulmate wasn't tangible. he should've left well enough alone and accepted his fate, met his soulmate years from that day and lived the life he was meant to live.

maybe then he wouldn't be stuck in what was a cruel form of torture, a life that lead to show him his karma of being so greedy— of trying to hold onto whatever was sent his way. he wasn't even supposed to be here right now.

yet, here he was, eren pressing his lips to armin's forehead, both of his cheeks, his nose and then a last tender one to his lips. although armin struggles to reciprocate them, eren can understand that they were received.

"you go, and you see all of those things without me because even when i'm not here the freedom you're granted is proof of me."

shaky hands reach to place themselves over eren's. "you promised."

"i'm sorry."

"eren, you—"

"i'm sorry."

to armin, it was confirmation that him and eren weren't meant to be. soulmates just weren't like this. he wouldn't have his mark, there wouldn't be so much hurt, and the promise eren shared with him would've been fulfilled.

armin refused to believe that his soulmate is eren.

he couldn't wonder who would come after eren when someone like eren existed. he couldn't fathom who else would put their life on the line like eren did not only for him but for everyone around him. who else would fight like eren did, all for selfless reasons.

whoever was eren’s true soulmate has to be the saddest yet happiest person on earth, to have a destined one like eren yet never be able to acknowledge him.

he'd come to terms with eren's fate, and he'd move on— after all what he thought was his fate was never meant to be.

eren pulls armin to a standing position and using the sleeve of his coat he wipes both him and armin's faces.

"i love you."

armin takes in eren's features, noting them down so he'd be able to remember them forever— even after he's gone.

"i love you too."

stepping forward, eren takes armin's hand in his own. "i'll be with you every step you take away from those walls and i'll be with you everywhere you visit."

it's hard to hear, but armin still manages to nod his head.

"i promise."

eren and everything around him begins to fade. he's trying to piece him together in his mind— create a solid memory to cherish forever.

the world around him fades and he's back on a sad dirt ground, palms stabling him as he begins to get up, mikasa walking towards him with the remnants of eren in her hands.

when he reaches for eren's head, it's only then he notices the words that his eyes used to linger back to every few hours are gone.

armin didn't realize when the words on his arm began to faintly glow and bleed because at the same time he was picking pieces of eren up and placing them together to create a firm picture that he wouldn't forget.

pale skin was the only thing left in its path— and when his eyes flit back to eren he sees his soulmate. for the first time he's sure of it.

“paths...” armin mutters to himself as his hand smooths over the cooling skin of eren’s face.

this eren existed in paths where time is nonlinear— speaking armin words for what could have been the first as long as he continued to reside in them. “he said it in paths…” he says shakily, and he winces at his own voice.

time wasn’t linear in such a void, and eren had spoken the short sentence on his wrist into existence long before armin knew.

eren was his soulmate.

his soulmate who he was supposed to see the world with; flaming water, frozen plains, and snowfields of sand.

his soulmate who set him free yet he'd rather be chained to for the rest of his life if it meant he could wake up with him everyday.

his soulmate who he doubted so heavily, transfixed on two words that plagued his whole being.

his soulmate who didn't even know broke his heart, broke their promise.

"you promised."

248 notes · View notes