#I know I know but LET ME PRETEND IT'S NOT CRAP!!
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dissapointu · 2 days ago
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hi!! i love your writing! i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to their partner looking really good??
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OMG YES, LET’S GO. You’re serving looks, and these characters are LOSING it.
Jinx
Jinx is walking into the room, probably rambling about some crazy plan she has to blow something up, but then she sees you. Full stop. Like, rewind sound effects stop. Her jaw drops, her eyes go wide, and she’s just standing there with a completely dumbfounded look on her face.
“WHO LET YOU LOOK LIKE THAT?!” she yells, pointing at you like it’s your fault. And then, without waiting for an answer, she’s giggling and spinning around you like a little tornado, tugging at your outfit and gushing about how good you look. But it’s Jinx, so she’ll probably throw in something like:
“I could never wear that—I’d blow it up in five minutes. BUT YOU?! You’re, like, my shiny bombshell baby now!”
Vi
Okay, so Vi acts all tough and cool, right? But when she sees you? Girl is GONE. She leans back in her chair, smirks, and tries to play it cool.
“Damn, babe, where’s the fire? Oh wait—it’s YOU.”
She totally thinks she’s being smooth, but her ears are turning red, and she cannot stop staring. She’ll make some excuse to touch you, too, like fixing a stray hair or adjusting your jacket, just so she can get a closer look.
“You’re killin’ me here,” she mutters under her breath, and yeah, she’s absolutely whipped.
Sevika
You walk into the bar looking too good, and Sevika’s mid-drink when she sees you. She chokes. Like, literally sputters into her glass because she was NOT READY. She tries to recover, clears her throat, and narrows her eyes at you like you did this on purpose.
“Alright, who are you trying to impress?” she teases, but her voice is all low and growly, and she’s totally jealous of anyone else who gets to see you looking like this.
If you’re lucky, she’ll slide an arm around your waist and pull you close, her mechanical arm whirring a little as she leans in to murmur, “You keep lookin’ like that, I’m gonna have to start a fight just to keep people’s eyes off you.”
Silco
Silco’s usually composed, right? All cold, calculating power. But when he sees you, he goes silent. Like, dead silent. His heterochromatic eyes narrow just slightly, and you can tell he’s looking you over, taking in everything.
“Impressive,” he finally says, his voice smooth but with just enough edge to send a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t say more because he knows you know exactly what he’s thinking, but the way his hand lingers on your arm when he passes you? Yeah, you’ve officially ruined his ability to focus for the rest of the day.
Vander
Vander is polishing a glass behind the bar when you walk in, and the man literally freezes. The glass slips from his hand, clattering onto the counter, and for a moment, he’s just staring at you with this big, goofy grin on his face.
“Look at you,” he says, his voice all warm and soft, like he can’t believe his luck. He’s not one to gush, but you’ll catch him sneaking glances at you all night, shaking his head like, How did I get so lucky?
And when you catch him staring, he’ll just laugh and say, “Can you blame me?”
Ekko
Ekko’s mid-sentence when you walk in, and he just stops talking. Like, whatever he was saying? Gone. Deleted. Replaced by you.
“Uh…damn.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to do with himself, because holy crap, you’re stunning. “Okay, but why are you trying to flex on me like this?”
He’ll pretend to pout for like two seconds before breaking into this huge grin and pulling you into a quick spin. “You look incredible. Seriously. You’re making it really hard for me to focus.”
Jayce
Jayce is a talker, so the moment he sees you, he’s throwing out compliments like confetti.
“Wow. Just…wow. Is this legal? You’re stunning. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. Should I keep going? Because I could keep going.”
He’s like a golden retriever, so excited and genuinely in awe, and he’ll definitely try to take like 50 pictures of you, “for science,” but really just because he can’t get over how good you look.
Viktor
Oh, Viktor is a mess. Like, full-on short-circuiting. He notices you immediately, but he’s so shy about it, he pretends to be focused on his work, even though the pen in his hand is hovering three inches above the page.
“You, uh…you look very nice,” he finally mumbles, his face going completely red. But when you catch him staring (because he’s DEFINITELY staring), he’ll push up his glasses and awkwardly add, “I mean, you always do, but tonight, especially…uh…”
Just kiss him already. The poor man can’t handle it.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn’s the type to notice right away but say nothing—at first. She’ll just smile, that soft little oh, you’ve outdone yourself this time smile, and let you catch her admiring you.
“You look incredible,” she says, her voice calm but with just enough warmth to make your cheeks burn. She’ll offer you her arm, all proper and elegant, and lead you into whatever event you’re attending, acting like it’s your moment to shine.
But don’t let her fool you. Inside, she’s absolutely glowing.
Mel Medarda
Mel is a queen, and she acts like one. So when she sees you, she doesn’t react immediately. No, she takes her time looking you over, a sly smile playing on her lips.
“You’re stunning,” she purrs, her voice dripping with admiration. “But then, I’d expect nothing less from you.”
She’s totally the type to dress even better next time just so you two can be the most powerful, glamorous couple in the room.
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa doesn’t do subtle. The moment she sees you, she lets out this low, appreciative hum, her eyes gleaming with approval.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” she says, stepping closer, her presence almost overwhelming. “It’s…intoxicating.”
She’ll rest a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but affectionate, and you can feel the pride radiating off her. She knows everyone else is looking at you, and she loves it.
Heimerdinger
“Oh, my stars! My dear, you look absolutely radiant!”
Heimerdinger’s ears perk up, and his little mustache twitches with excitement. He’ll walk around you in circles, marveling at your outfit and making a bunch of overly enthusiastic comments about the “design work” and “craftsmanship,” even if it’s just a plain dress.
“You must let me take a closer look at this fabric—it’s magnificent!”
It’s adorable, really.
Salo
Salo’s not one to gush, but he’ll give you this small, approving nod when he sees you.
“You clean up well,” he says, his tone casual but with just enough edge to let you know he’s impressed.
If you’re lucky, you might catch him stealing a glance at you when he thinks you’re not looking.
Scar
Scar sees you and immediately whistles low under his breath.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says, his grin all crooked and playful. “What’s the occasion, doll?”
He’ll definitely tease you, but you can tell he’s really into it by the way he keeps sneaking closer, like he just can’t help himself.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie is blunt, so when she sees you, she just blurts it out:
“Damn, you look good.”
She doesn’t sugarcoat it, doesn’t make it a big thing. But the way her gaze lingers a little too long? Yeah, she’s head over heels.
Lest
Lest is normally composed, but the moment she sees you, she falters.
“You look…” she pauses, searching for the right word, and then just gives up with a little smile. “Amazing.”
It’s simple, but the way she looks at you? Like you’ve hung the moon? That says it all.
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widgenstain · 6 months ago
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I need to get my shit in order, so I'm trying to be less online, if you see me on here shoo me away! I know that there will be a barrage of beautiful content tempting me again soon, but remind me that I can lust over the Irish one later too and that I have important things to do instead!
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carbonateddelusion · 2 years ago
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sibling looked at my discord profile pic (which, for refence, is this)
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and said "who is that. is that a black chick" as if I haven't already specifically told bun who it is like twice before now. I WONDER if it's the CHARACTER EXPLICITLY NAMED IN MY TAG
you know. "#2 Isaac enjoyer". I wonder if the character that is my profile picture is the character specifically named in my user.
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tender-rosiey · 1 month ago
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Hii, can I request a fic where sukuna is trying to court the reader but she's still scared of him and doesn't realize what he's trying to do?🫶🏾
tethered — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: i could not let reader be trampled on; am sorry :( i mean you can tell she is scared but she aint gon take crap from him ALSO if you guys saw that I used this sukuna panel before, pls tell me tyyy
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the room feels far too small with him in it, despite its towering ceilings and wide stone floors. his presence suffocates every inch of space, like the weight of a storm pressing down on you, demanding attention.
your hands tremble slightly as you pour tea into the lacquered cup, but you force them to steady. you’ve been doing this long enough to know better than to show fear, even if your pulse hammers in your throat.
the weight of sukuna’s gaze is heavy, as always, but you keep your eyes trained on the task, pretending not to notice the way he watches your every move, like a predator biding its time.
you place the tea in front of him, bowing respectfully.
yet the air between you shifts—his presence thick with something unfamiliar. you glance up, wary, only to find his eyes, crimson and sharp, still locked onto you.
that smile—the one that sends chills racing down your spine—curves his lips.
“you’re trembling again,” he says, his voice low, dark amusement coloring every word.
you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to breathe slowly, evenly.
“it’s cold, my lord,” you respond, as calmly as you can manage, though the lie feels feeble. everyone knows that with sukuna in the room, it’s never the cold you have to fear.
he leans forward slightly, one of his lower arms lazily resting on the table, the other two still folded across his broad chest. “is that so?” his voice is smooth, but there’s an edge to it that unsettles you more than his usual biting remarks.
you’ve heard the whispers, the rumors—how he’s been different lately, his focus shifted. and it’s not hard to guess where that focus lies.
you’ve felt the shift, too. the extra care given to your meals, the finery left in your chambers, and the subtle way he’s been keeping you close. too close.
you glance at him from the corner of your eye, nerves flaring. “I don’t mean to waste your time, my lord. if there’s nothing else, I should return to my duties.”
his chuckle fills the room, rich and deep, as though you’ve just said something absurdly amusing. “so eager to leave?” he asks, his voice low. “I’ve been generous, haven’t I?”
there’s something different in his tone now, something dangerous. your stomach knots as his gaze sharpens, studying you with unnerving intensity.
“my lord, I—” you stop yourself, choosing your words carefully. the last thing you want is to provoke him. “you’ve been more than kind. but I am still just a servant. I don’t require such attention.”
his smile widens, showing more of his sharp teeth, the predatory glint in his eyes growing darker. one of his upper hands moves, reaching out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze head-on.
“just a servant?” he repeats, voice dripping with mockery. “you really think I would waste my time on someone who means nothing?”
you swallow hard, refusing to flinch under his touch. his hand is surprisingly gentle, but the power behind it is unmistakable. you force yourself to meet his eyes, despite every instinct screaming at you to look away.
“I—I…think I don’t know why you would waste your time on someone who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”
his eyes flash with something dark and unreadable, but it isn’t anger. it’s interest. you can see the amusement flickering beneath the surface, and it sends another chill down your spine.
“you think you’re brave?” he muses, his voice lowering to a dark whisper. “or perhaps foolish?”
your breath hitches, his words unsettling. “I don’t think it’s foolish to speak honestly,” you reply, voice steadier than you feel. “especially when I’ve done nothing to earn the attention of someone like you.”
sukuna leans forward again, all four arms now resting on the arms of his throne as he stares you down. the air feels heavier, charged with something dangerous and electric.
his voice drops low, smooth as silk but with a dark edge. “you’ve earned it by surviving in my presence this long. by not running when you had the chance. that interests me.”
your heart races, the closeness unnerving, but you refuse to back down. “I’m here because it’s my duty,” you manage, your voice sharp and defiant. “not because I seek your favor or your… gifts.”
sukuna laughs then, the sound deep and rumbling, like distant thunder.
“ah, so you do notice my gifts. modest as they are.” he leans in closer, one of his lower hands brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “tell me, little servant, if it’s not favor you seek, what do you want?”
your stomach flips, the closeness sending a wave of heat through your cheeks, but you stand firm.
“I want to be left alone,” you reply bluntly, trying not to flinch under his gaze. “I want to do my duties without feeling like prey every time I enter the room.”
his eyes narrow slightly, a dangerous glint flashing in them, but there’s something else too. amusement. curiosity. he’s not angry—if anything, he seems more intrigued than before.
“you think you’re prey?” he muses, his voice lowering to a dark whisper. “perhaps you are. or perhaps, you’ve already caught the ‘predator’s’ attention in ways you don’t yet understand.”
his words sending a chill down your spine, but you stand firm. “If I have, it’s not by choice, sukuna-sama.”
his smile softens, just a fraction, but it’s no less menacing. he rises from his seat, towering over you as he closes the distance between you in a heartbeat.
his four hands move with calculated grace, two of them resting on either side of your face, trapping you in place as he looms over you.
“choice is an illusion for you humans,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “but you’ll come to understand that in time.”
despite the trembling in your limbs, you lift your chin, meeting his gaze with a newfound defiance. “I’m not afraid of you.”
he smirks, his eyes gleaming with approval at your boldness. “good. fear is boring.”
then, in a startlingly unexpected move, he leans down, brushing his lips against your forehead—an act of tenderness that catches you completely off guard.
the warmth of his breath lingers, and the moment stretches between you, almost surreal.
“besides,” he continues, voice low and surprisingly gentle, “I find your spirit rather… enticing.”
your heart races, confusion mingling with the fear that had gripped you moments before.
this man, this powerful being, was something else entirely, and as you step back, you can’t shake the strange warmth that blooms in your chest.
with that, he releases you, stepping back and letting the tension between you linger like smoke in the air.
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do not copy or plagiarize
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crazy-only · 5 months ago
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oscar finding his reporter cute ! (fluff)
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pairing: oscar x fem!reader
premis: oscar helps a shy reporter during an interview and ends up crushing on her! short and sweet, fluff!
preface: posting this in honor of him getting 2nd place in austria !! good job oscar <3
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you felt a tap on your shoulder and you spun around, finding a tall guy staring at you. his eyes were bored and a bit annoyed.
“um, can i help you?” you ask politely, checking your watch.
you had already interviewed the drivers that came in third and second place, and you were currently waiting on the first-placing driver to show up.
truth be told, you weren’t really qualified for the job—your sister decided to suddenly honeymoon with her wife and begged for you to replace her. hesitantly, you agreed, dying your hair to match her natural color and hoping your features were similar enough.
the young man scoffed and ran a hand over his face. “woman, you’re joking, yeah?” he asked after rolling his eyes.
honestly, you would’ve assumed this moody guy was the winner as he wore a racing suit, certainly an f1 driver with the after effects of participating in a race apparent, sweat running down his neck leading to the contour of his—
no, y/n! focus! your sister called moments ago saying the winner of the race was extremely ugly, and, according to her words, “you can’t miss him.”
and, as much as you hated to admit it, the fiesty male was far too attractive to fit your sister’s description.
“sorry, i, um, don’t follow?” you say, nervously running your fingers through your hair, microphone in the other hand.
the man looked back to face an older man sporting a mclaren hat, the former muttering something while angrily staring at you.
is this what a red flag feels like before getting torn to shreds by a bull?
“ok, lisa, you’re on air!”
you turn around rapidly at the mention of your sister’s name, searching for the driver you needed to interview.
“um,” you start shyly, looking into the scary camera. “we are still waiting on the pole position winner for the silverstone grand prix—“
there’s laughs amongst the viewers, and you cock your head trying to find their source of amusement.
“—well we are waiting on him to arrive, so sit tight while we try to find him!”
yet, to your horror, the camera stays on, the filming crew motioning for you to continue.
“hey.”
you turn to find the same utterly attractive yet rude driver staring down at you, mouth in a line and arms crossed as if he were the one that should be stressed.
“oh, you again,” you accidentally mutter into the microphone, freezing once you realized what you’ve done. except, the crowd simply laughed.
you cursed under your breath.
they’re laughing at you, y/n. you’re such a dumbass.
“yes,” the young man said sarcastically while tugging the mic towards himself, only helping to raise the volume of the laughs from the stands. “it’s me again.”
you nodded, anxiety burning in your veins, not knowing what to say. this was not as simple as your sister had said it would be.
“while we’re waiting for the grand prix winner,” oscar said, now stealing the mic completely, “why don’t i ask you some questions, reporter?”
crap!
“uh, okay,” you murmur into the mic the driver stretches towards you. for some reason your palms started getting clammy. was it your nerves?
he puts a hand on his hip and pretends to be in a deep state of thinking. “let’s start with an easy question.” he came closer so your bodies were only a pace away.
“who’s your favorite driver?”
uh oh.
“th-that would be, erm, lan?—lando!”
phew. thank god you remembered the name of the last driver you interviewed!
but the driver interviewing you walked away, suddenly a bit angry. then he ran back into frame, looking into the camera. “do you see how i’m treated around here?”
the crowds laughed, and you hid your smile.
was this the same person you met earlier? how was he so. so—so amiable?
“ok ms. reporter, next one: do you have a sister?”
“yes,” you said into the outstretched mic, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice.
then the man brushed his hand against yours just below the vision of the camera, and—was that a smile? did he just smile at you?
your breathing slowed, thankfully feeling a lot more calm.
you continued, saying, “i do. her name is y/n.”
the driver nodded, acting as if he were actually interested. “is she cute?” the man whispered into the mic.
and god, you would’ve thought this was a comedy show thanks to the immense amount of laughing if he weren’t dressed in a sweaty race suit that perfectly hugged his abdominal region and quads—
then you saw him walk slightly out of the frame, waving at you frantically. he mouthed:
ask me about the race!
good idea.
you leaned into the mic the man held, flooded by his addicting scent. “how was your race?”
“ah, thanks for asking,” he said, clearly having a talent for acting. “it was great! i’m really happy with my results. i scored a lot of points for my team, so honestly i couldn’t have asked for more.”
he went on about the technicalities and such of his car, what went wrong and right, what he should improve on; thankfully he talked until the time was out.
“well, there you have it!” you say as the camera crew gave you the cue to stop the interview.
“what’s your name, again?” you whispered to him.
at this point he just leaned into the mic. “it’s oscar piastri.” the crowd went wild, making him smile.
for some reason you got stupidly jealous.
“seems our pole position driver never showed up—“ you started saying, until the camera crew pointed towards a lit screen with words.
“but nonetheless, thank you for tuning in,” you said, and then continued reading the transcript, explaining the time and date for the next race.
once finished, the camera finally shut off, and with a big sigh, you retired your mic and made your way to your car. never again were you doing another favor for your sister.
“good job, y/n,” oscar murmured, having bent down from behind so only you could hear him. “turns out you are cute.”
fuck. how did he find out?
you swept around, hand over mouth in dread.
“oh, come on, it was obvious!” oscar said proudly. “you did not know a single thing about racing—and you look so different from your sister.”
you simply stood in shock. quietly gauging whatever despicable plan he was carrying out.
“do you still not know who i am?” he asked incredulously.
you cocked your head. “you’re a driver. what was it? osc-oscar pastry?”
he handed his heavy helmet over to you.
“there. now you’ll never forget my name again. it’s fucking piastri.” he ran his hands over his face, losing patience.
“ask me who won the race!” oscar finally said, cracking.
“um, we aren’t in the interview anymore?—“
he shook you by the arms, saying, “i won the goddamn race! i got first, y/n!”
“you’re the grand prix winner?! b-but my sister told me you were supposed to be unattractive!”
oscar raised his eyebrows, asking “is that so?” he tilted his head slightly, a cheshire cat’s smile forming.
“does that mean you find me attractive?”
uh oh.
your body was on fire, maybe more anxious than from the interview.
“since you kept staring at my body the whole interview,” oscar said as he smirked down at you, his brown eyes clearly satisfied at your shocked reaction. “take me out and i won’t tell.”
maybe you would do more of your sister’s favors.
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darlingdaisyfarm · 1 month ago
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Stan Pines is the kind of man who can't just let you do anything without turning it into a compliment, like, every move you make, he's gotta say something. And it’s never normal. 
You could be bent over organising some random crap around the Mystery Shack and this man will make it sound like you’re posing for him. Because, yeah, you’re just trying to organize his disaster of a desk, sorting through all his crumpled receipts, ticket stubs, whatever the hell else he’s hoarded.
“Your doin’ god’s work, sugar,” and it’s not even subtle. You look over your shoulder, half expecting him to actually be paying attention to the pile of garbage you're dealing with, but no. He’s leaning against the counter, counting out cash from the register, but all you see is that smirk. The one that makes it very clear his mind ain’t on the paperwork.
“Sorting your trash is god’s work?” you quip back, rolling your eyes, but the way he’s watching you with that smirk of his, makes your cheeks flush a bit.
“You know what I mean,” Stan mutters and now he’s just full-on undressing you with his eyes, the cash in his hands forgotten. “ya ain’t gotta try so hard, baby, because ya could sit on your ass all day and I’d still think ya did somethin’ special.” and your face burns at that, but he sees it, of course, he does. Stan ain’t dumb, despite the act he puts on for tourists. He’s so much more clever than he looks, always has been. The moment he catches that excitement in your eyes, he’s grinning like he’s just won a damn lottery.
“You like that, huh? being told how good you are?”
You smirk back, trying to play it off, but your voice comes out a little breathier than you mean for it to. “all that for organizing receipts? maybe you should give me a raise.” 
Stan just laughs loudly. “yeah, sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn Shack.”
Or when, you’re just sitting at the counter, counting the cash from the register, going about your day and Stan? Well, Stan is “cleaning up,” which basically means he’s wiping the same spot for like five minutes straight while staring at you. You catch him, because he’s being too obvious with it. His eyes keep dipping to your lips every time you bite your pen and it’s distracting as hell.
“You’re too damn cute, y’know that?” he grumbles and it sounds like he’s mad about it, like you’ve done something wrong just by existing.
“You say that every day.” you shoot him a teasing smile, because yeah, this is the daily routine.
And Stan just sighs, smirking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, and I’ll keep sayin’ it, sorry, baby, couldn’t shut up about ya if I tried.” 
Then there’s when you’re fixing up one of the old displays, just tightening bolts or whatever and Stan’s “supervising.” Except by “supervising,” I mean, he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work with that wide grin on his face, satisfied and clearly enjoying the view.
“Goddamn, honey,” he mutters. “you makin’ this place look good just by bein’ in it. Hm, maybe I should start charging you for the view.” 
You glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow, but smirking, because you know exactly what game he’s playing.
“What? I’d pay whatever ya want, sweetheart. You’re worth every penny.” 
Or you’re just in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. The radio’s on low, the sun setting through the windows. Stan’s sitting at the table, pretending to read the newspaper, but every once in a while you catch him glancing over the edge, just watching you move around the kitchen. It’s quiet until he breaks it.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, y’know that?” his voice is so soft, too sincere for Stanley Pines, but when you look over, he’s still got that damn smirk on his face.
You pause, knife in hand, and raise an eyebrow. “For chopping onions?”
He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Nah, sugar, it’s just the way you’re movin’ around in there, i dunno how to explain it, but damn, you look good in my kitchen.”
You snort, shaking your head. “I’m literally cutting onions, Stan.”
“Yeah, still sexy. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
Then there’s the mornings. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, wearing one of Stan’s old shirts that hangs way too big on you and he's leaning in the doorway, watching you like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You catch his reflection in the mirror, raising an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs with this lazy grin, continuing to admire to you.
“Can’t help it, sweetie, you look cute when you’re all domestic.”
you’re just brushing your teeth, but somehow, this man makes it sound like you’re doing the sexiest damn thing in the world
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eddiethebrave · 3 months ago
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secret admirer part five
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one two three four
“Shit, shit, shit.” Steve is late. 
“Fucking shit.” He must’ve slept through his alarm. It’s moments like this he wishes his parents were here to wake him up for school like they used to when he was in elementary. 
He woke up to a message on his receiver from Tommy letting him know that he was getting a ride from his mom because someone didn’t show up, which is when he realized he was supposed to pick him up today. 
Steve doesn’t have time to do his hair, but that’s not the end of the world. What is the end of the world is that he missed morning practice which means 1) coach is going to kill him and 2) he didn’t give Eddie his note. And right after Eddie confirmed he likes them, too! Steve hopes Eddie isn’t jumping to conclusions the way he himself tends to and would be were the roles reversed. 
Steve scrawls out the note in the parking lot. His handwriting is worse than usual but it’ll have to do. Hopefully Eddie can read it, though. 
Eddie i was so happy and relieved to see you wearing the ring  it looked really good i was kind of distracted during your big speech, so i didn’t hear much of it but i’m sure it was great, fuck conformity and all that just hearing your voice made me smile i like the weird words you use p.s. sorry i was late hopefully you didn’t notice and didn’t miss me too much if you did -H 
He’s so in his head that he doesn’t notice that the halls aren’t exactly empty until after he’s already put the note in the locker. Given the time, Steve would guess that second period just started. There are still a few stragglers in the hall. 
Including Tommy.
“What was that?” his best friend asks in confusion. 
It could be worse. It could’ve been Eddie. 
Steve freezes momentarily before scoffing and gesturing to the locker. “‘Freak ripped me off the other day. Just putting him in his place.” 
He hates himself. 
Tommy nods and his gaze trails to Steve’s hair before darting back down. Steve flushes under the attention but holds his head high. “Don’t.” He resists reaching up to adjust it.
A smirk grows on Tommy’s face. He throws an arm around Steve’s shoulders and steers them in the direction of their shared second period.
“Munson got me with that ‘birthday fee’ crap, too. Wanted to punch him.”
Steve laughs like he found it just as annoying and not incredibly charming. 
He receives a  few strange looks throughout the morning. You’d think these people would let a guy get away with not being dolled up for one day. Carol laughs at him and pokes his hair like there’s something living in there. 
At the highlight of his day, aka lunch, Eddie isn’t there when he walks in. Or when he’s standing in line for food. Or when he finally takes his seat. It makes him nervous but he has to play it cool. 
He keeps up this front for fifteen minutes before he can’t take it anymore, and needs a break from pretending to not be watching the doors like a hawk.
He pushes his tray away and stands up, muttering a be right back and making his way to the exit for some air. 
He leans against the brick outside and slips his sunglasses on. He’s sure he looks like a douche but a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do. It’s not his fault he’s sensitive to light. 
Steve is highly aware he shouldn’t be affected by something as trivial as his crush not showing up to lunch, but he can’t help it. It feels like there’s nothing for him in there.
Eddie’s never been late… 
The thought trails off and a small smile grows on his face. 
Eddie’s found ways to communicate before. He knows Steve watches him. Or rather, he knows H watches him. 
That asshole. 
Steve rolls his eyes and heads back inside and sure enough, when he glances at Eddie’s table, the boy himself is sitting there with a pleased smirk on his face as he listens to whatever it is his friends are going on about.
So his note being late this morning was noticed and perhaps even missed. Noted.
Steve takes his seat and rests his chin on his hand lazily.
And if he keeps his sunglasses on so no one will be able to see where his eyes are pointed then that’s no one's business but his own.
six
tag list (closed)
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sorry if i missed anyone!!
(i finally figured out how to tag people properly, i had no idea. hope it works this time)
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pitviperofdoom · 2 months ago
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High School Time Travelers, Part 2
It's finally here! Follow up to this story.
***
“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”
Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.
Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”
“I’m serious—”
“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”
Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”
“That’s what I said.”
“What the fuck, Raph.”
“I didn’t mean to!”
The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.
But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.
“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”
“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”
“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”
Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”
“The what.”
“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”
Erin pulled a face.
“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”
“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.
“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”
“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”
Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”
“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”
“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”
“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”
Raph’s silence could not have been louder.
“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.
“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.
“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”
“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.
Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”
Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”
“Creepy what?”
“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”
Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.
“Dude.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”
“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”
Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”
“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”
Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.
“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”
“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”
Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”
“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”
“Dude, fuck your mom.”
“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”
Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”
“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”
“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.
Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”
“Shut up,” she said fondly.
“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”
There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.
“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”
“She does, don’t worry.”
“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”
Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”
She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”
“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”
“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”
“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”
“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”
“What?’
“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’
“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.
“Damian.”
“You’re... not...”
“You’d tell me, right?”
“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”
“Damian, I swear to God.”
“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”
Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”
“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.
***
“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.
She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—
Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.
Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.
DADI need you to talk to your brother.
Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.
lol why
DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.
Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.
what do you need me to do
DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.
why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?
DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.
ok daddy ill do my best!
DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!
“Order up!”
Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.
Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”
“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.
“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”
The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”
“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”
Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.
“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.
“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”
“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.
“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.
Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.
“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”
“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.
“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.
“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.
“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.
“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”
Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”
“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”
“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.
“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”
Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”
“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”
Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”
And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 
“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.
Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and�� Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.
“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”
“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”
“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”
“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”
Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”
“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”
“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 11 months ago
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“Are you gonna be a good girl?” || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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Summary: Coryo's friends have always been and probably will always be condescending towards you. When you refuse to stay home when he invites them over for dinner, you become aware of the intricate control that Coriolanus has skillfully woven around you, highlighting a sense of submission in your actions.
Warnings: reader smoking, age gap (r is 18 and Coryo is 25), manipulative, controlling, toxic!coryo, power dynamic, condescending behaviour,
Wc: 740
A/n: crap summary but i kinda got inspired by Priscilla and I lowkey imagined cailee as Priscilla in this but u don’t have to. I LOVE THIS MOVIE SM 😭 also pretend Arachne is still alive.
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"I want to visit my family later today, Coryo," you mention, casually flicking the ashes from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. Coryo looks up from his newspaper, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”
"I want to see my family later today," you repeat, "I haven’t seen them in weeks." The sentiment is laced with a tinge of longing. With a cigarette delicately held between meticulously manicured nails, your painted lips articulate the words, the smoke swirling into the air.
A hush settles in the air until Coryo’s voice breaks the silence, his tone void of emotion. “You can’t. Not today,” he asserts, his attention returning to the newspaper. Your eyes fixate on him. “And why not?” You try not to raise your voice, but a hint of urgency slips through.
"Because, sweetheart, we have guests coming over for dinner." You roll your eyes. "And I want you here, yes?" he adds, pointing to you. “Who’s coming?” Coriolanus sighs deeply, dismissing the question with, “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does matter. Who’s coming, Coryo?” Your tone grows more agitated. He casually shrugs, “Just a few of my friends, that’s all.” The harsh stubbing out of your cigarette emphasizes your displeasure.
"Your friends?" you question, annoyance evident in your tone. Sensing your irritation, he casually discards his newspaper to the side. “Yes, does that bother you?” he spat in response, his words carrying a tinge of defiance.
You let out an exasperated laugh, “You know how I dislike your friends, Coryo. They’re horrible to me!” You grip the armchair tightly, leaning towards him. You can practically feel the irritation radiating off you.
Coriolanus dismissively rolls his eyes. “Please. They’re not horrible to you. You’re being dramatic—” The room is charged with tension as your hand forcefully slams on the table. “Yes. They are. They belittle me, Coryo!” The weight of your words hangs in the air, your chest heaving from the emotional intensity of the outburst.
It's true. Whenever you're around Coriolanus' friends, it's hard not to notice the condescending vibe they throw your way, the snarky comments about anything and everything about you.
The memory of your wedding day remains vivid in your mind, etched with indelible images of raised eyebrows and skeptical glances from all of Snow's friends as you walked down the aisle. The collective gaze left you with a lingering sense of embarrassment. You were only 17, and he was 24.
You were well aware of the swarm of thoughts buzzing through their minds every time they saw you with Coriolanus. According to them, you were too young, too naive, too quiet, and perhaps even too unintelligent to hold the title of First Lady.
The unsolicited opinions seemed to echo a common sentiment: Coriolanus should have chosen someone closer to his age, someone who shared more similarities with him.
Conversations with his friends were always filled with subtly belittling comments that Coryo either didn't notice or chose to ignore.
Arachne stood out as the harshest among them all. Her comments, in particular, were cutting and had a way of driving you out of the room, often leaving you with tears streaming down your face.
In their eyes, you were just weak. A wife who sat there and looked pretty. But you were more than that, you knew that, hell, even Coriolanus knew that, but he never spoke up.
"They just like to tease you. Don't be so sensitive," he scoffs, the nonchalance in his tone amplifying your frustration. You gnaw at your lips as Coriolanus rises with a sigh, leisurely stretching his neck before heading to the nearby table to pour himself a glass of alcohol.
"I don't want to be here," you whisper loud enough for him to hear you. "I want to see my family, Coryo," your voice trembling with the urgency of your plea. "You can't deny me of seeing my own family," you exclaimed, the words escaping your lips with an urgency that surprised even you.
His response was swift, harsh. He took hold of your chin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. "You are to stay here, do you hear me?" he commanded, his voice cutting through the air.
The forcefulness of his grip left you momentarily breathless. Your attempt to pull away was futile as his gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and expectation in his eyes. Tears welled up, blurring your vision as a wave of helplessness washed over you.
As your gaze meets his with glassy, doe-like eyes, Coriolanus can't help but be overcome with a sense of remorse. His hold gently eases, his fingers transitioning from your chin to delicately trace the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and stay, hm?" His voice was softer now. You swallow hard and you find yourself nodding, silently surrendering to the intricate web of control that Coriolanus deftly wove around you.
Coriolanus tenderly brushes away a stray tear that had dared to escape, his touch as soft as a fleeting whisper. Leaning in, he draws closer to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. The warmth of the kiss lingers for a brief moment, a delicate embrace, before he gently withdraws. "Now, go get ready," he says, his back turned to you as he pours himself another glass as you wordlessly leave.
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felinecyan · 4 months ago
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Trust Issues
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[Katsuki Bakugo x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Some friendly advice: don’t ever go to the rival of your spar partner for help.
WC: 4893
Category: Fluff, Slight Angst,
This blog is a MHA fan page at this point HAHAHA
But since you guys REALLY liked the first oneshot of him, I felt inclined to write another one. So, here you go! 💞
『••✎••』
You didn’t think it would come to this.
In all honesty, you had never intended to hurt your friend.
All you had wanted was a fair fight. After all, that was why you were training, wasn't it?
So you could become a hero?
Now, granted, it was not a secret that Izuku Midoriya had always been on the… opposing end of Katsuki Bakugo's wrath ever since childhood. The boy was a spitfire; you had known that from the moment he had first stepped into class.
The Sports Festival only proved it. He was strong, powerful, and unafraid to let anyone who stood in his way know. It was that sort of determination that you had hoped to one day achieve, the will to succeed and not allow anything to hold you back.
It wasn't that you were star-struck or even jealous when he had been crowned first place at the festival. It was just inspiring, in a sense. He had fought tooth and nail to win, and in the end, he had come out on top.
However, his victory did not mean he could rest easy.
After the Sports Festival, Bakugo had taken a sort of… interest in you. You supposed he liked the way he fought against you, or maybe it was because he saw potential in you as a rival, but when class was over the next day, and the blonde had approached you, telling you to meet him out back, you were overjoyed.
Until he started to beat the ever-living crap out of you, that is.
And he still was, even now.
Every time you believe to be gaining more and more strength, he only proves to have become stronger. It was quite disheartening, actually.
Still, you did your best to keep up with him. It was no surprise to you, though, that he was better at you in almost everything.
That's why it seemed like a great idea for you to start sparring with Deku, right? Maybe the green-haired could teach you a few things and help you gain a bit of an advantage over the hothead.
But, as pure intentions would have it, the choice you made that day had landed you here.
You were at your locker, picking up books for Aizawa’s lesson when a hand rested atop the door of your locker. He didn’t close it, only using it as a resting place for his arm, so you didn't immediately look up to see him, instead pretending that you hadn't noticed him.
"Hey,"
Not a voice you were familiar with. You glanced around the area before looking over at the source—a tall boy with short black hair and dark brown eyes.
You blinked a couple of times. "Hi…?"
He flashed a grin and leaned a bit closer to you, his voice dropping low. "Nice weather we're having, don't you think?"
"Uhm… sure, I guess." The confusion was obvious on your face, and he laughed at your expression. "It's nice, yeah."
"Well, the weather seems a lot nicer on the roof, I think." His words were slow, and his smile was growing a bit too much for you to be comfortable with. "I could take you there, show you the view. What do you—"
He was caught off by the large hand that suddenly slammed down on the top of your locker, shutting it. You were about to tell the person that the door had hit your head when you looked up at those glaring crimson eyes and felt your stomach drop.
Katsuki Bakugo.
"Hey, what the hell?!" The boy exclaimed. "What's the big deal?!"
Bakugo didn't seem to acknowledge the other, simply glaring down at you only. You were frozen in place. You had never seen the boy this angry, not even at the USJ attack.
"You." His voice was quiet, unnervingly calm, but the undertone was filled with enough venom to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. "You lied."
"Uh—" You began but were cut off.
"You told me you had to bail yesterday. That you had homework to do." He was staring right through you, and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine.
You swallowed, and his eyes flickered to your throat for a split second. "I did, though."
"You didn't," He hissed, teeth gritting together. "You were with him."
"With who—"
You had no chance to react before he slammed his fist against the lockers again, right beside your face, and the boy who had been trying to talk to you only watched as you were cornered.
"Don't lie to me, damnit!" He was snarling, eyes alight with fury. His hand moved from the lockers and back to his side. "You were with that shitty nerd. Don't you fucking deny it."
"I—" You tried, but your voice was shaking, and he interrupted you before you could say anything.
"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" He leaned down to your level, his red eyes burning into yours. "Do you really think I wouldn't find out about your little play date with Deku?"
"Play date?" Your eyebrows furrowed. "I was just training, Bakugo. It's not that big a deal."
He scoffed, pulling his hands into his pockets. The rage was still in his eyes, but he didn't appear to want to act on it, instead turning his head to the side.
And despite it not being a good time, the dude beside you was still here, and he had a comment.
"Hey, I was here first, dude." He said, stepping forward. "It’s clear you two have a problem, but this chick isn’t yours. Beat it."
You were honestly expecting Bakugo to explode on him, maybe even punch the guy. He was always so aggressive.
Instead, he simply stared at him for a long moment, blinking at his audacity, only to roll his eyes and turn back to you.
"If you think Deku can help you, then go ahead." He shrugged, taking a step back. "We’ll see how good his teaching is if it can get you to stand a chance against me."
"You think—"
He interrupted you, not even giving you the chance to finish.
"Five o’clock, gymnasium." He smirked, but his eyes were hard. "Don't make me wait."
"But, you said—"
He had already turned his back and began to walk away, the other boy watching him with a dumbfounded expression.
Bakugo only nudged him aside with his shoulder, not giving him a glance as he left the hallway. He might’ve called over his shoulder, calling the kid an extra.
You weren't sure, and frankly, you didn't care. The only thing you cared about at that moment was what just happened, what was going to happen, and kicking the ever-loving shit out of the tattletale who just ruined everything.
The guy was still staring at the hallway Bakugo had disappeared in, his eyebrows scrunched together.
"Did he just—"
"Don’t." You held up a hand, and his mouth shut immediately. "Just don't."
The boy didn't say anything after that. You left him as he was, not caring if he was confused or not. He shouldn't have interrupted in the first place.
You walked to the classroom, immediately hunting down the other blonde, who happened to be your betrayer. He was sitting down, talking to Sero and Kirishima, but you didn't hesitate to grab him by the ear and drag him away.
"Hey!" He cried out, struggling to escape. "What the hell?! Lemme go!"
"Why'd you do that?!" You demanded, turning to him and letting him go. "You ratted me out!"
He blinked, not understanding. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb, Denks!" You pointed at him accusingly, glaring at him. "You told Bakugo that I was training with Midoriya."
"I… was under a lot of pressure, okay?" He raised his hands defensively, leaning back. "Bakugo came to me after school and demanded where you were. He threatened to blow my face off!"
"Oh, yeah, real mature." You rolled your eyes. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?! He’s going to actually blow my face off."
"He didn't seem that mad," He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe it'll be okay."
"He talked like a regular person," You crossed your arms. "He was terrifyingly calm, Kaminari! And now he wants to meet me in the gym at five o'clock."
"Dude,” Sero extended the vowel, sitting forward in his seat as he had heard the conversation. "You’re so screwed."
You couldn’t help the glare you threw at him.
"You're not helping."
Kirishima also turned, frowning. "No, dude, he's right. You are screwed. I mean, you were sparring with Midobro behind his back." He shook his head. "He probably wouldn’t have cared much if it was me or anyone else, but—"
"You picked his mortal enemy." Sero finished, raising an eyebrow. "Like, seriously, dude. What did you expect?"
"Kaminari not to snitch on me?" You threw a look at the yellow-haired boy. "So much for being friends, huh?"
"Hey, I warned you," Kaminari huffed, crossing his arms. "But no, you wanted to hang out with his rival. If I didn’t tell him, I'm pretty sure he would've killed me. Like, literally, he would've killed me. No doubt."
"But you're fine with me dying?" You asked, a teasing smile pulling at your lips. "I see how it is."
"I thought I would have until after lunch to warn you," He defended himself, shrugging. "Guess he warned you instead, huh?"
You sighed, shaking your head.
"You guys aren't helping," You turned, running a hand through your hair. "I'm dead. So dead. Oh my god."
"Alright, who pissed off the chihuahua?"
You spun around at the sound of Mina's voice, seeing her, Jiro, and Hagakure all standing together.
How wonderful. The gang's all here.
"What are you talking about, Ashido?" Kirishima questioned, tilting his head.
"Bakugo's pissed," Jiro explained, pointing a thumb in his direction. "He’s storming through the hallways like someone just took a dump in his cereal."
"And it's not like he was in a good mood this morning, either," Hagakure added, bouncing on her toes. "Did something happen?"
You groaned and flopped down into a chair, hiding your face in your hands.
"Idiocy happened," Sero answered, shrugging. "That's what happened."
"Shut it, Tape Boy."
"You should probably tell us," Mina advised, sitting down next to you. She pulled you into a side hug, patting your shoulder. "What's up? Talk to me."
"Bakugo found out that I've been training with Midoriya," You mumbled, and the three girls nodded. "I’m dead. Aizawa can’t even save me."
"Aw, c'mon, it's not that bad." Jiro rolled her eyes, walking over to join the group. "Bakugo's all bark and no bite."
"He's not… all bark." You muttered, not meeting her eyes.
"I can vouch for that." Kaminari grinned, but the glare you shot him made him falter. "But uh, no, yeah, he's definitely more bite than bark."
"Oh, you poor baby." Hagakure cooed, leaning forward to ruffle your hair. You couldn't see her face, obviously, but you had a feeling she was smiling. "You can do it, though. It can't be that bad."
"You know what you should do?" Kirishima suggested a bright smile on his face. "Talk to him."
"I think that would make things worse, dude." You rubbed your eyes, sighing.
"I mean, tell him why you were doing it." He shrugged. "He’s feeling all types of betrayed right now, I bet. If you just explain your reasoning, he might let it slide."
"Doubtful."
"But it's worth a shot, isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow, his smile still intact. "Plus, you’d be showing him that you aren't afraid to take the initiative. Maybe he'll be a bit nicer."
"Do it at lunch so that if he tries to kill you, there'll be teachers nearby." Sero grinned.
"You're really not helping." You glared at him, but the group just laughed, leaving you to your sulking.
Mina was about to say something when the door to the classroom opened, and the very loved and grumpy Aizawa walked in. He didn't say a word; instead, he just shot a look at the group before sitting down to wait for the last few minutes before class started.
As much as you wanted to believe it, the only thing the group's conversation managed to do was make you more worried. You spent the entire class staring off into space, staring at the blonde boy who sat two seats in front of you.
His shoulders were tense, and his pencil was practically snapping in half as he scribbled notes on the paper. Every once in a while, his eyes would flicker back and forth, his teeth gritted, and his pencil would move a bit faster.
You couldn’t focus on what Aizawa was saying, too distracted by the blonde's behavior.
The class seemed to go on forever, but eventually, the bell rang, and the class began to shuffle out, chatting and laughing with their friends.
"Hey, Bakubro!" Kirishima walked over to the hothead, who had stayed behind to pack up his things. "You okay, man?"
He was a real one, that Kirishima.
"Peachy." He replied, throwing his bag over his shoulder. His tone was dry, and his eyes were tired, but there was a hint of anger in them.
"You sure? You seem a bit—"
"I'm fine, Shitty Hair." He hissed, his patience wearing thin. "Back off."
The redhead only nodded and backed away, holding his hands up. "Alright, man. Whatever you say."
He looked over at you, his eyes flickering between you and Bakugo.
He didn't need to say a word. You understood. You slowly approached the blonde, your heart in your throat.
"Uhm," You started, your voice cracking. You cleared your throat, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible. "Can we talk? I'll buy lunch."
He glanced at you, his jaw clenching. His eyes flickered down to the floor before meeting yours again.
"What makes you think I need you to buy me lunch?" He huffed, his grip on his bag tightening.
"It's an offer, dude," You shrugged, trying to sound more casual than you felt. It didn’t work. "I just want to talk, okay?"
He stared at you for a long moment, the gears in his head working. He looked over at Kirishima and Kaminari, who had been watching, before rolling his eyes and huffing.
"Fine. Whatever."
He pushed past you and made his way to the door, not bothering to check if you were following. You gave the other two a small, awkward smile and hurried after him, following close behind as he stomped his way through the hall.
You kept a bit of distance but stayed close enough so that he knew you were still there. He didn't speak, didn't even look at you, and his shoulders were still tense.
This was not going to end well.
But he hadn’t said no, so maybe there was a chance.
"So," You began, breaking the silence. "I—"
"Why?" He cut you off, not slowing his pace. His eyes were forward. "I already know your damn reasoning, so don't give me some bullshit excuse. Just tell me the truth."
He had stopped walking, now turning to face you. There were students milling about the hallway, and a couple were giving the two of you strange looks. You tried to ignore them.
You focused on the blonde's gaze.
"You're strong," You confessed, your voice wavering. "I want to be stronger."
His eyes narrowed at that.
"You could've asked," He growled. "You didn't have to sneak around and hide shit."
"Asked to… what? To kick my ass harder during our spars?" You huffed. "Because, as much as I hate to say it, I'm not winning in those."
He paused, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Is that what this is about?" He asked. "You wanted me to go easier on you? Are you kidding me?"
"No, that's not—"
"If you think villains are gonna hold back," He cut you off again, and the volume of his voice was getting higher. "You're out of your damn mind. You can't always depend on some shitty extra to bail your ass out."
"That's not—"
"Then what the fuck do you want from me, huh?!" He demanded, throwing his hands up. "You want me to hold your hand through heroics?! Is that what it is?!"
"I'm not asking you to do anything," You defended yourself, glaring. "All I wanted was a different perspective, damn."
"Yeah, what a nice perspective you got." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Get perspective off the kid who can’t even use his quirk without breaking his fucking body. What a brilliant idea."
"Oh, come on!" You crossed your arms. "There is no reason for you to be so petty. I did this for you, and for me. What's the problem?"
"For me? " He echoed, his eyes widening. "The hell do you mean, 'for me'? Going behind my back and training with the nerd is not doing something for me."
"I did it to be a better opponent to you!" You raised your voice, ignoring the stares of your classmates. "I'm tired of losing all the time! You're my friend, and I don't want to constantly have my ass handed to me!"
"We're not friends," He hissed. "Friends don't do this kind of shit."
You faltered, taken aback.
"I'm— You're—"
"Save it," He snapped, not meeting your gaze. "I'm done. Fuck this. Fuck you. Go find someone else to train with."
He pushed past you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stomped away. You stood there, gaping, unable to understand what just happened.
"Bakugo," You tried, your voice cracking. You didn't turn, too busy staring at the tile floor.
"Fuck off, idiot." He spat, not bothering to look back. "You can forget about the sparring later."
He didn't wait for you to respond. Instead, he shoved his way past the crowd, disappearing from sight.
You were still frozen, and you couldn't tell if the tears welling up in your eyes were from frustration or sadness.
The students rushing around you began to slow, staring at you with pity, confusion, or both.
But you didn’t have time to care because, at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything else.
Your stomach twisted. Your head throbbed. Your heart broke.
And you felt like you were going to throw up.
"Dude," Kaminari said, appearing next to you. "That was rough."
You didn't reply. You couldn't.
"Shut up, man," Kirishima said, placing a hand on your shoulder. He was frowning, his eyes full of worry. "She doesn't need that right now."
"This is some B-lister movie shit right here," Sero commented, shaking his head. "Seriously, what a drama queen."
Bakugo… he was… hurt. You could see it in his eyes. He was angry, obviously, but there was something else. Something that you had never seen before.
"He’s…"
"An idiot?" Sero guessed.
"A jerk?" Kaminari added.
"Emotionally constipated?"
At that, Kirishima punched Sero in the shoulder, causing him to groan and rub the spot.
"Ow, what was that for?!"
"He's just mad," Kirishima ignored the question, turning to face you. "Just give him some space. He'll come around."
"This is different," You argued, your throat burning. "I've never seen him like that. Never. It’s like he’s— I don't know."
"He's an asshole," Kaminari muttered, glaring down the hallway. "Don't waste your time on him."
"You didn't see the look in his eyes," You shook your head. "It was so different. He was almost… dejected."
"Hurt?" Sero repeated, raising an eyebrow. "The guy didn't look like he was in pain. He looked pissed."
"I… did this," You said, and the three boys frowned. "He said we weren't friends because I went behind his back. I didn’t realize he saw us as friends, and I— I ruined it."
"Hey, man, you didn't ruin anything." Kirishima shook his head, his voice firm. "He’ll realize the things he said and—"
You needed to apologize. You needed to go to him, and apologize, and explain in a way that doesn’t leave room for questions.
"I'm sorry," You spoke, interrupting the redhead. "I just— I gotta— I'm gonna go."
"Wait, I wouldn’t—"
But it was too late. You were already pushing your way through the crowd, not caring about the future consequences.
You were on a mission, and you were going to get shit done.
It was easy enough to find him. The Pomeranian hair was a dead giveaway. He never made it to the cafeteria and was instead standing off to the side, staring out the window.
He didn’t look up when you approached him, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.
"I'm sorry."
You didn’t beat around the bush or try to ease him into the conversation. You just came out and said it because there was no point in hiding it.
"Just…" He sighed, not bothering to look at you. "Just leave me alone, alright? We're done."
"Look, I didn’t—"
"Why can't you just listen?!" He yelled, whipping around to glare at you. Despite his angry expression, though, you could see the hesitation.
He wasn't as confident as usual.
"You're not listening to me," You argued. "I'm apologizing. Why can't you—"
"Because I don't need you to apologize," He snarled, his eyes narrowing. "I don't want your fucking apologies. You did what you did, and I'm over it."
"It's obvious that you aren't over it."
"What, and you are?"
"No, not at all," You shrugged, trying not to flinch. "I’m trying to fix the problem."
"Well, don't." He huffed, turning back towards the window. "There is no problem."
"You were going to take your anger out on me," You said, not daring to step any closer. "How the hell is there no problem?"
"I told you," He turned to face you. "I don't care. I don't give a shit anymore. I'm not going to spar with you. Not anymore."
"You can't—"
"I can't, or I won't?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Neither," You said. "I didn't— I didn't train with Midoriya because I didn't trust you."
He laughed. Actually, genuinely laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement. You thought the most terrifying moment of his was when he spoke calmly, but that?
That, right there?
That was the scariest moment of your life.
"Are you joking?" He snorted, the smile disappearing just as fast as it had come. "You think that’s why I'm pissed?"
"It's— it's part of it, right?"
"Oh, no," He shook his head. "No, you don't get it, do you? Do I have to spell it out for you, dumbass? Do you want me to fucking say it?"
You hesitated, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.
"Say what?"
He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.
"I was fine with the spars," He explained, his voice quiet. "I was fine with the competition. It was fun. You were a good match, and it made me a better fighter. I liked it."
He stopped, taking a deep breath.
"But when you went behind my back," He continued, his voice tight. "And when you didn't bother to tell me and instead told Dunce Face? Of all people?! That's where I had a problem."
"What does—"
"It means you're a coward."
You felt as if you'd been punched in the stomach, the air being knocked out of your lungs.
"You couldn't even look me in the eye and tell me, so instead, you went behind my back." He continued, and the volume of his voice was increasing. "You were too scared to face me, and you ran off and hid like a child."
"That's not true—"
"It is," He growled. "You know it, I know it, and the rest of the class knows it."
"So, you're telling me you're pissed because I'm a coward?" You asked, trying to keep the quiver from your voice.
"Partly," He replied, and the look in his eyes made you flinch.
"Partly," You repeated, your eyebrows furrowing. "So, what's the other part?"
"That I trusted you."
The words stung. They burned through your skin and pierced through your heart, making you feel as if you were the one with the explosion quirk.
He didn’t let you respond and instead walked up to you, his eyes dark.
"I trusted you," He repeated, his voice low. "I trusted you to come to me if you needed something, and I trusted that you would be honest with me. I thought we were at least close enough for that, but it turns out I was wrong."
"You— you weren't wrong—"
"If I was wrong, then why the hell did I go to Deku?! Why not me?! Why did you not trust me?!"
"I did trust you!" You cried, your eyes stinging.
"You went to the one person who could break his body with every punch," He snapped, his hands curling into fists. "You went to the kid who can’t control his damn quirk, and you went to the one person that I—"
He stopped himself, his face twisting in anger.
"What?" You pressed, taking a small step forward. "What were you going to say?"
"Nothing." He spat, turning his head. "Forget it. It's none of your damn business."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Bakugo," You pressed, trying to sound more demanding.
"Fuck off."
"Bakugo!"
He didn't answer and, instead, began to walk away.
"Damn it," You hissed, running up and grabbing his arm.
"Let go." He warned, not meeting your gaze.
"I'm sorry." You pleaded. "Okay? I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you already said that."
"I do trust you," You said. "You're an ass, and you're annoying, and you can be a bit too hardheaded, but I still trust you."
He paused, not looking at you.
"Then why didn't you go to me first?" He asked, his voice wavering. "You were my damn partner, and yet you—"
"I didn’t want you to make me feel bad," You answered. "I wanted to surprise you and prove myself. I know I can do it. I'm strong, and I'm fast, and I can be better than what I am now, and I wanted to show you that."
He was silent, but he still didn’t pull his arm from your grasp.
"I couldn’t ask for your help," You continued. "Because I didn’t want you to treat me any differently. I wanted you to see what I could do without any outside influence."
"What a stupid reason."
"You don't have to agree," You muttered. "But it was my reasoning, nonetheless."
He didn't say anything, and you sighed, letting go of his arm.
"I'm sorry," You apologized again, trying not to cringe. "I should have told you sooner, and I should have come to you. I should have trusted the way you'd react and not predicted how you would act. I was being selfish, and I should have considered you."
He turned his head, his eyes still narrowed. But it wasn't angry. No, it wasn't anger at all anymore. It was pure curiosity.
"What were you trying to prove?"
"Huh?"
"To me," He said, his eyebrows furrowing. "If you were training with me, then what were you trying to prove?"
You bit the inside of your cheek.
"I'm not sure." You answered, not daring to meet his gaze. "I guess I just wanted to impress you."
"Impress me?" He scoffed again, rolling his eyes. "You really are an idiot."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"It means I don't need to be impressed," He explained, his voice softer than before. "I don't give a shit about being impressed. I just want you to be stronger."
"So you can still kick my ass? But be more proud of it?" You guessed, smiling.
"Something like that," He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I want to be able to fight you without holding back."
"Oh, come on," You complained, rolling your eyes. "That's a load of crap, and you know it. You wouldn't have to hold back against me."
"Oh, yeah?" He asked, his voice lowering. "An hour with the nerd, and you think you're on my level now? You're delusional."
"You underestimate me."
"I'm not underestimating shit." He scoffed, leaning down slightly. "I can tell you, right here, right now, two minutes. I'd give it two minutes, tops, and then your ass would be on the floor."
"Really?"
"Really," He nodded, smirking. "Two minutes. That's it."
"Five o'clock?"
"Tch, fine," He agreed, taking a step back. "Don't be late, idiot."
"I won't." You assured, turning to leave. "I'll see you then, Bakugo."
"You'll see my foot up your ass."
And, just like that, the two of you were back to normal.
Did you win? Hell no. But your plan with Deku did come in handy, and you were able to put up a pretty good fight.
He did still beat you, of course, and the time was 4:57 when he finally got you on the floor.
But, it wasn't as humiliating as the previous spars, and you weren't nearly as embarrassed.
Instead, he just grinned, pulling you up by your hand and offering some tips.
And, honestly, they were better than the ones Midoriya had given you.
So, maybe going to the firecracker wasn't a terrible idea after all.
656 notes · View notes
imababblekat · 5 months ago
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Accidental Eavesdropping?
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Anon request, "Hey!!! Love your blog and your writing style, it’s amazing and so detailed!!! Can I request Bayverse TMNT Spider-man Au, where the turtles and spider-y/n are in a battle with Bepop and rocksteady. And in the last moments of the battle, spider -y/n saves the turtles but gets unmasked in the process. (They live) If you don’t want to do that idea! You can either delete this OR A moment where the turtles start talking about y/n and they don’t even realize that they’re talking TO THEM!!! This was funny to me for some reason lol 😂"
A/N: Aw thank you, anon! ;v; I went with the second prompt, btw. Leans towards Raphael x reader, but it's mentioned/hinted that the other turts also got the feels for reader. Any who's, I hope you enjoy! <3
◌(s,p) = spider persona◌
~xXx~
You're swinging over traffic, indulging in a rather quiet night despite the sounds of honking vehicles and other night life, when a sudden warm fuzzy feeling beams from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It's not your spidey sense per say, but something akin to it, all you know is that it's a good sense and you follow it with glee. It doesn't take long before the feeling is buzzing and you see the source of the feeling chilling atop a pizza parlor. Well, more like sources. You let out a small giggle, noticing that the four ninja turtle brothers seem to be in some sort of deep conversation or debate.
"Hey guy's, what's going on?!", you greeted, swinging in next to a steaming Raphael.
"Oh you know, just the daily sibling teasing while we wait for our pizza to be made.", Donnie shrugged, watching as you and Mikey did your secret handshake.
"Yeah? Let me guess. . ."
The eyes of your mask squinted as you pretended to skeptically look at all brothers before looking at the glaring gaze of Raphael next to you.
"Is Raphie suppressing his emotions again?", you chaffed.
Said turtle rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to one side as he growled.
"Great, just what I need. And don't call me that."
"Come on, I'm sure I can help! What's up this time big guy?"
Leo chuckled, gaining your attention while Raphael sent him a warning glare from behind you.
"Raph's got a crush on our friend."
At this your eyes widened, a small gasp escaping you as you looked between the two eldest brothers in excitement.
"No way! Who?!"
You're question went ignored as Raph threw his arms up, cheeks flushing a light hue of embarrassment.
"All I said was they smelled nice, and y'all chuckle heads suddenly think I've been struck by cupid or some mushy crap!"
"You complimented them, Raph.", came Leo's retort.
"I compliment people all the time!"
Everyone remained silent, giving the hot headed turtle deadpanned expressions.
"What? I do. Right (s,p)?", he asked turning to look down at you.
You merely shrugged.
"Sarcastically maybe."
Raph huffed, leaning back against the buildings ledge, you hoping up to sit next to him.
"So is anyone gonna tell me who this mysterious person is or nah? Come on people, I want the tea."
Mikey, idly spinning his nun-chucks, grinned widely.
"It's our friend, (y,n)!"
You sat rigid, mask eyes wide once more.
". . .Who now?"
"Oh you haven't met them.", Donnie waved off, checking his turtle made watch to see the remaining wait time on their order.
Raphael clicked his tongue, still slightly aggravated about his brothers earlier teasing. Meanwhile, you still sat frozen beside him, staring into the abyss with a racing heart.
"I still don't have a crush on them.", he muttered.
"You complimented them on their perfume!", Leo loudly pointed out once more.
"Why is that so weird?!"
The two started to banter once more, Mikey enjoying the show while Donnie threw in a few matter of facts to weigh in on Leo's side. You, however, felt never more thankful than in that moment that you wore a full face mask. If it wasn't for the coverage, surely the ninja brothers would see just how closely the color of your face matched Raphaels mask right now.
Raphael growled, fed up with his brothers ganging up on him and his definitely non-existent crush on you. If they were going to call him out, then he would do the same to them.
"Maybe you guys should get off my shell and jump on yours first! I ain't the only one whose been makin' googly eyes at (y,n)."
You just about fell off the side of the building, hands gripping the edge of where you sat, knuckles definitely white beneath your suit. What is happening right now, is all you could terrifyingly but blushingly think.
Leonardo and Donatello were quick to look anywhere but at Raph, trying their hardest to not blush themselves at their brother's call out.
"I seen the way you put on the macho charm, Leo, bowing extra deep and all your swooning romance book crap when they come over. And you, Donnie, sputtering and dropping shit when they try to help you with projects and their hand accidentally brushes against yours. And Mikey. . ."
All eyes focused in on the youngest of the bunch who sat ready and waiting to hear Raph's jest.
"Actually, Mikey you're not that surprising. You think anyone who gives you food is a gift from heaven."
"Hey, it's not my fault their cinnamon rolls are so good!.", Mikey pouted, bottom lip jutting out adorably.
Leonardo shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning towards you.
"What do you think, (s,p)? Are we over analyzing or are we right?"
The boys eagerly waited for your answer, for your input. Surely someone from the outside would be able to better determine the situation the brothers found themselves in. Well. . .should have been able to more like, as the response you gave was not what they were expecting.
A rushed, "Igotgo!!!", was all they got before watching you thwip away at the speed of light, leaving the turtles to look at each other confused and quizzically.
". . .Wait, so you guys don't have a crush on (y,n) too??", Mikey questioned with furrowed brows, innocently confused by how they could not.
Raphael groaned loudly as he and his brothers devilled into another childish debate on why they totally didn't have feelings for you, a familiar smell that had sparked the argument coincidentally wafting lightly into their senses upon the wind in the direction of which you swung off.
~xXx~
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 5 months ago
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BNHA Boys: 1st Time Noncon
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female Reader
Boys -> Hawks + Dabi + Bakugo
Warnings at each part (but the title is quite explicit, right?) + NSFW Link (be careful + on twitter (you need a account to see)
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback + Gimme ideas
Hawks
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-> Manipulation
Keigo is a cunning guy, always looking out for a way to get things done his way. He’s used to tricking people, using his tactics to reach his desired goals. But honestly? You have to be the biggest chump he’s ever met in his life. 
Did you actually believe when he deeply sighed and pretended to relent to your begging, just before meekly offering you to walk away from him?
Did your ingenuous self really trust him when Keigo swore on his hero honor - what honor really? - that he’d let you go home, safe and sound?
But the reality is that you fell for it, like a bee attracted to honey. It’s moments like those that Keigo acknowledges how naive and kind-hearted you are. Too cute and good for this twisted, cruel world. 
So that’s why a minor part of him is almost satisfied at the reluctance and doubt that shades your pretty face when he tells you the inflated price for your freedom.  
You clearly don’t want to sleep with him. Your attempts to bargain are immediately turned down and it takes less than five minutes for you to crumble down. 
Keigo almost feels bad at your distressed teary face. But hey, a win is a win.
You try to relax when he starts kissing and touching you. To be calm when he slowly starts making love to you.
But it feels so dead wrong and the overwhelming realization that Hawks was lying about letting you go finally hits you like a brick and you try to push him away, pointlessly make him get off from you. 
But no point in that cause Keigo isn’t gonna let you go anywhere. 
“Deal’s off, babe. I mean, I was willing to let you go and all, but since you ruined the whole mood…there was no need to fight me, ya know? I wasn’t forcing you into anything, was I? But since you broke your promise, I suppose I’m gonna have to keep you here with me.”
(VISUAL)
Dabi
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-> Noncon
Dabi isn’t one to shy away from what he wants.
He takes what he wants, when he wants and how he wants and you don’t get any say in it. 
So, if for a moment you actually believed you could argue or convince the black-haired villain to leave you alone, then you’re not up for a great start with him. 
Dabi doesn’t care when you start crying, spirit battered over the small burns he gives you for trying to fight back. He doesn’t care for your wails of pain when he fucks you in the way he wants to. 
Dabi is sadistic like that, he actually enjoys the terror that floods your entire face when he explains in extensive detail all the scary lustful needs he wants to fulfill by using you. 
He’s definitely one to use tight ropes to bend you in uncomfortable positions when fucking you - just because they allow him better access and less struggle from you.
Doesn’t give a crap about your wellbeing or if you get to cum, those are unnecessary thoughts for him. 
As long as Dabi gets to end his night with a few orgasms, he’s good. 
“Oh sweetheart, there’s no point in begging. That’s not gonna change my mind. And can you even blame me? Just look at you, such a pretty body you have. You’re just too tempting to let go and trust me, I’m not planning to.”
(VISUAL)
Bakugo
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-> Forced Oral - (male receiving)
Bakugo has mild-anger issues and everyone knows that so, if anything, it was entirely your fault for provoking the anger out of him. 
You saw an opportunity to try an escape and you took it, even though it was meant to fail miserably.
Bakugo ends up wrestling you back inside the house, tightly clutching your hair as he angrily shouts at how much of an ungrateful brat you are.
He’s so damn pissed that you almost got away that he can’t control himself. All the adrenaline and anger mixing up in his blood and all he wants is to teach you a proper lesson. Scare you into submission. Make sure that you’ll never act up again.
His hands are cruel as he roughs you up a bit, ignoring your scared shrieks. 
But the real punishment is the way he fucks your mouth.
His pace is so insanely fast, demanding and brutal, and he carries on without caring for the numerous times you gag and choke around his length, unable to pull away because of the vice grip he has on your scalp.
The way he facefucks you is humiliating and brutal, and the cherry on top of the cake is when Bakugo shoots his sticky cum all over your face before leaving you bruised up and with a hurting throat.
Afterwards, Bakugo might feel a bit bad because that’s definitely not how he planned your first time doing something intimate together, but on the bright side - you get much more obedient and calm towards him. 
“The hell you giving me that pathetic look for, huh. You fuckin’ deserved that and you know that. Had you not acted all lunatic and none of this would’ve happened.”
(VISUAL)
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slasherscream · 6 months ago
Note
i would love to know which of the crazy ass boys gang would indulge a partner who watches reality tv? whose getting just as invested and angry and who is standing to the side saying it’s dumb and fake? (i know it’s kevin)
❥ who grins and bares it so they can bond with you ❥
Billy Loomis - This is just a bonding activity for Billy. It’s not awful. Nor is it the most fun thing in the world. It’s just one of those tiny moments that relationships are built off. The small bids for connection that build intimacy. You don’t bitch when he wants to watch Psycho for the sixth time in two months. He doesn’t bitch when you turn on trashy TV. He pulls you close, so that you’re sitting in his lap, or laid up against him, and pays enough attention to ask you the odd question or two to clarify what’s going on if he gets lost. What do you mean they switch couples?? When did they start doing that? Last week… oh I bet Luca was pissed. 
David Mccall - David is obnoxious because he pretends to be the type who is upset when you watch without him. He’ll come home, glance at the TV and gasp dramatically: Baby! Why are you watching our show without me?! How far along are you? You watched an entire episode? You know better than that, baby! You gotta rewind it, hold on, I’ll order us some pizza. Can’t believe you’d watch behind my back! This is a ridiculous pantomime that you may or may not pick up on. Mileage varies as always. David couldn’t care less about the reality TV shows you watch. But he likes the way you giggle as you rewind it for him. Or the way you light up when you’re discussing it with him. You used to spend way too much time talking with your friends about this stupid crap. Now you talk to him. Who gives a shit about whatever mindless little thing you’re watching. What David enjoys is your undivided attention. 
Jason Dean/JD - JD also sees this as a bonding activity and bid for connection… However, JD is a born hater. He bonds by talking shit. He’s not necessarily trying to be a bummer about the things you enjoy. He’s just a certified yapper when it comes to shit-talking. If he thinks something is stupid he just can’t sit in silence. This is his most underdeveloped life skill. He’s got ten minutes of quiet in him max. If he does manage to bite his tongue his face gives him away anyways. So what was the point? Will say something pretentious like: “Why are we watching people play out a badly scripted version of their lives through a screen when we could be out living ours, right now? Let’s hop on my bike and just ride, darling! Live a little!” Sir, I just worked an eight hour shift. I need to see someone who doesn’t deserve a rose get sent home in tears. Read the room. Get a grip. 
❥ who is pissed off/devastated when you watch it without them ❥
Sebastian Valmont - What can he say? Sebastian likes to watch people experience psychological torment. He’s trying to turn on the first seasons of “America’s Next Top Model" and watch a girl get sent home in tears after the judges convinced her to shave her head bald to look more fierce.This is the type of quality reality TV that makes Sebastian laugh. Watching people go through their darkest moments in front of a camera that highlights the creases in their cheap makeup is how he likes to spend the occasional date night. You had to put him onto reality tv shows, but now he’s hooked. He probably watches more reality TV than you do. If we’re being honest. You think this might be how he gets to still live out his glory days of being an unrepentant asshole. Sometimes he sighs a little too wistfully when someone is being a monster. 
Jordan Li - Jordan enjoys anything you do together. Even if they hate a particular activity, at least they’re spending time with you. Still, there are reality TV shows that Jordan really likes, such as: home improvement shows, “Say Yes to the Dress'', “Face Off”, “American Ninja Warrior”, and “RuPaul's Drag Race”. And then there are shows that Jordan puts on a brave face about. Things like “Love Island” and “Jersey Shore”. Jordan gets queasy just scrolling past them. There was a time before they became one of Brink’s favorites that their parents kept pushing them to try and be an entertainment Supe. No one is taking you that seriously, anyways! Maybe you’ll do better in the reality TV circuit. It’s unlikely Jordan will ever get stuck in projects like that now. They’ve proven they can be a heavy hitter. Proven that they’re strong enough to not need to sell themselves as cheap, easily-digestible, entertainment. Still, they don’t like thinking of the alternate world where they’re having to sit in front of a camera and do twenty retakes of “authentic” confessional room venting.
Stu Macher - He likes reality TV and doesn’t care who knows. Hooray! A shared interest… except watching these shows with him will piss you the fuck off. He has dog-shit opinions about everything. You will never be rooting for the same people. You will never agree on who handled a situation better. He’s always rooting for the asshole, it seems. You don’t even think he’s doing it to be contrary or to make you mad. He’s genuinely on their side (most of the time… he does enjoy making you mad.) Watching reality TV with Stu makes you want to kill him. It also makes you look at him funny. Why are you always siding with the bastards? You don’t think Ekin-Su needed to apologize? Stu, are you out of your fucking mind?
Josh Washington - You’re gonna try to tell me that the twins weren’t making him paint toenails while they pulled all nighters of “The Bachelor”? Sure, okay, if you’d like to believe that. And his inner circle consists of Emily and Jess? Please. He’s been watching trashy TV for years. He’s watched a little of everything. He is so well acquainted with the dark underbelly of reality TV that it would roll over for a tummy rub from him. It knows his scent. He can easily keep track of the names, faces, and plots. Who’s fucking who. Who hates who. Who’s forming secret alliances. You’ll probably be more lost than Josh ever gets. He’s a day one. He’s an OG. 
❥ who is pissed off to even be hearing about it second-hand ❥
Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - He has better shit to do than watch reality TV show crap all day, and so do you. These are the kinds of harsh words that will be waiting for you if you try and get him to watch anything fun with you. Ask him one too many times and, like a parent who is annoyed that you are bothering him, he will begin to fill up any moment of free time the two of you have with activities. No, babe, we can’t watch “90 Day Fiance.” Why? Because we’ve got to run the marathon for kids with cancer and then we’ve got dinner with the mayor after that. You two are gonna be booked and busy. You were obviously bored. Now you won’t have time to even think!
Kevin Khatchadourian - Please don’t remind him so blatantly of his own intellectual superiority over you (he’s an asshole.) He gets the ick of the century when you try and tell him what happened during one of your little…programs. If you have the audacity to take it a step further and ask him to watch with you? He’s rendered speechless. Since when is this relationship a safe space? He doesn’t enjoy well-written, heart-stopping, incredible genre-defining movies and television. And yet, somehow, you’re so delusional you think he’s gonna sit through reality television with you? Don’t piss him off. He doesn’t even bother responding. Enjoy the view of his back as he walks away!
❥ secret fourth worse thing ❥
Nathan Prescott - Nathan is once again in a category of his own, which you might call: too nosy to not get into it, but doesn't want you to know he enjoys it. He made fun of you when you first started to watch reality TV. He can’t go back on his word now. If you were cuddling on the couch he’d have his face turned into your stomach and dramatically roll his eyes at your absentminded head rubbing. Could we focus on what’s important please? But then the plots started thickening and the heated exchanges started to pique his interest. He knew he was cooked when he started recognizing names, who was booed up with who… wait that disloyal prick hooked up with who this week?! He tells you to just replay the episode because you’re explaining it shitty and you obviously want him to watch it and talk to you about it. It isn’t for his benefit at all. Turn the subtitles on, god dammit.
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A/N: this was really fun! how did you know i've been watching reality TV shows lately?? if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo
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ultralightpoe · 10 months ago
Text
S-L-U-T -Eddie Munson
Authors Note: this draft had been rewritten like 4 times and each time I just felt weird about it. I wrote half of part 2 and gave up so there will probably not be a part 2. I wrote this in August last year.
Word Count: 7908
Warnings: smut. (Awkward smut scenes) cussing.
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(Thanks for the gif @madisondixonhopper )
Enjoy!
It starts with a skimpy top and a huge crush on the resident Metalhead of Hawkins.
You had been made….. graciously, as your mother always said. Like Aphrodite born into flesh, pretty and plush. And you had been raised to be proud of yourself in your skin, that was how you were made and there was no changing that so why bother pretending you weren’t fucking gorgeous?
You loved short skirts and dresses, you loved your chest and all the shiny jewelry. Earring to necklaces and rings, you loves decorating your nails and doing new looks with your hair. Makeup, though never needed, was fun fun to you. You had decided very early on that you liked how you looked and you liked dressing up. The town you had grown up in was always open to it all as well, you never once heard a single bad thing about your looks and often got asked for tips and advice from your classmates.
But then you moved to Hawkins.
You truly hadn’t expected your outfits to cause so much backlash.
As it turns out Hawkins Indiana was very against letting people love their skin, so much so that within a week of starting your new school you had already been branded with something you had never been called before. Slut.
They whisper it as you pass, giggling to one another as you do your best to keep the cool and confident composure because you refuse to let anyone make you feel less than.
The boys leer at your chest, and often drop things in hopes that you will bend to pick it up.
Enter Eddie Munson.
You had been at your locker one day, fixing your makeup in your mirror when another figure emerged beside it, some kid from your biology class named Lucas Elks? He had never said anything to you in the four weeks you’d been at this school, and a wave of excitement passed through you as you realize this might be your chance to make a friend.
He starts easy, joking about the crap lockers which makes you laugh. You ask him about the homework from class and he disregards that by saying “I don’t do homework.”
And just like that he redirects your conversation to your locker, taking his finger and knocking on it, which makes the mirror you had hung in it fall quickly, both your eyes falling to where it lands.
“How clumsy of me”. He smiles and you smile back, waiting for him to grab it before you realize he was waiting on you to grab it. Embarrassment clings to you at this, him watching you pull your dress down a bit to get ready to bend and grab it. His eyes fall to your chest as you begin to move to grab it, but before you can make it far a ringed hand dashes out to snatch the mirror, pulling it up quickly making you stand straight and make eye contact with the kid who saved you.
He, a beautiful brown eyed god, holds out the mirror casually before bowing dramatically with a smirk. “Milady.”
You laugh slightly, grabbing the mirror as he stands straight again. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Have a good day.” He smiles, waltzing off after that leaving you with the Elk kid.
“You know Eddie Munson?” Not yet.
“No. Never met him.” You murmur, eyes glued to where he disappeared.
“He’s a freak.”
An extremely respectful and attractive freak.
-
Most boys at Hawkins were crude and nasty, and they made their intentions known quite quickly.
You were struggling at this school and it was beginning to eat at you.
Until Steve Harrington.
He played the game well. He played all caring and kind in the beginning, never once looking at your chest and never dropping things for his own amusement. He lent you his jacket during cold classes and gave you rides home from school. You ate lunch with him and found yourself with a warm tingly feeling at the fact that you had a friend finally.
It truly helped that whenever you hung out with him the slut comments seemed to die down.
You loved your friendship with him, and not to mention that small crush that had been growing on Eddie Munson? It was full blown now.
You spent your days daydreaming about the Metalhead, how he would open doors for you or pick you up for a date. He would be the type to kiss your knuckles and warm your hands.
This was all imagination of course, daydreams formed from slight moments in passing with him. Like this morning when you were both entering the school at the same time and he held the door open for you as you dashed to escape the cold in your tiny dress.
He laughs when you slip, reaching a hand out to catch you easily and allowing you to enter the warmth of the school, keeping his hand on your elbow as you wipe your heels down from the snow.
“Not that I don’t think the outfit is cute, shouldn’t you at least wear a jacket?” He smiles, letting go of your arm when you are stable, bringing his hands up to blow hot air on them. A blush coats your skin as a burning feeling settles in your lower stomach as you watch him, imagining him doing that to you.
“I-I didn’t have one that matched.” You mumble, feeling silly at the thought.
“Oh.” He nods, like it’s the most normal answer ever. “I get that. It’s a really cute outfit. Why ruin it?”
“I know it seems stupid. Why bother looking good if it’s freezing but I’m going to see a movie with my friend tonight. Pretty in pink? Have you seen it? Well I decided I would dress up-“ you were rambling, a lame rant that you’re sure makes you look stupid.
“Dress up as pretty in pink?” He smiles, and you nod lamely. “It doesn’t seem stupid. Sure it’s cold but if you’re a badass then you’re a bad ass. Can’t help it.”
He shrugs easily, hands moving to slip from his jacket to reveal a Jean jacket under the leather. You blink in shock as he holds the leather jacket out to you, a slight pink ringing his own cheeks.
“For me?”
“Yeah. It kinda goes with the outfit. I mean not a lot but kinda. Just in case.” He offers and you smile widely, reaching to grab the jacket and wear it. It smells like cinnamon and hot chocolate, and that burning feeling in your lower stomach is straight flames at this point.
You wondered if he knew how hot he was.
“Enjoy the movie, yeah?” He smiles, heading down the hall like he didn’t just make you want to jump his bones in the hallway.
-
“So what’s the plan Stevie?” You ask your friend once entering his car, still clad in Eddie’s jacket. “Heading straight to the movies?”
“Well…..the movie was canceled due to the weather.” He mumbles, shrugging. “Bummer.”
“Oh, okay. Are you taking me home then?” You blurt, feeling lame. You had been looking forward to hanging out all day.
“Well, since we already planned on watching a movie how about we just watch one at my place?” He offers, something gleaming in his eyes as he does.
“Okay.” You smile, this being the first time you hung out with someone in this town. “Sounds fun.”
So he takes you to his house, and puts a movie on. It gets dark quick due to winter and you both are sitting close together sharing a blanket for warmth as the movie plays in front of you.
You, still in Eddie’s jacket, are calm and relaxed as you keep inhaling the cinnamon scent of the jacket. That is until Steves hand coats your thigh under the blanket, your entire body going ramrod straight as you flush.
He leaves it there for a second, and you think that maybe it was just to sit there but then he slides it up, slowly until he gets to the dress and slides a hand under the skirt of the dress pulling a sharp gasp from you.
“Is this okay?” He murmurs and you panic for a second. Is it okay?
I mean you didn’t like him like that, but if he liked you like that….. you didn’t want to lose a friend.
And that’s how you ended up laying on your back with Steve Harrington above you, your dress pushes up to your hips and your underwear tossed to the side.
He had slipped a condom from his back pocket, and soon enough he was thrusting into you, breathy pants falling from his lips as he closed his eyes and began to move.
And you feel guilty at the fact that you weren’t enjoying it, so you close your eyes and try your best to get into it, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s jacket as you relax your body and just imagine.
Soon enough it’s not Steve panting above you with short thrusts, it’s Eddie. The cinnamon smell of him easing you and the brown eyes making you melt.
It’s not Steves hand awkwardly pawing at your breast through the dress, it’s Eddie ringed hand. And finally, pleasure follows.
You go from feeling awkward and nervous to melting into it, moaning a bit as that fire feeling in your lower half starts rising, you were close…. Almost there if Eddie could just move a little to the left and -
You are snapped from your reality when Steve moans loudly and finishes into the condom, the high that had been building up falls flat and you can do nothing but blink up at Steve.
“Did….. did you want to finish the movie?” You ask lamely, and he sighs.
“Actually my parents are gonna be home soon. I should take you home.” So he does, you say nothing as you get settled in his car, keeping Eddie’s jacket wrapped tightly around you as Steve drives you home.
Once you are out of the car Steve drives off, and you make the short walk to your door in silence. It isn’t until you are safe in your room that you let the tears fall, feeling weird and lonely.
Without really thinking you grab the phone book and dig around until you find the number you’re looking for.
You curl up on your bed, knees tucked under your chin and the jacket wrapped around you as you listen to the phone ring.
“Munsons place. This is Eddie.” You hear him yawn through the phone and your heart starts beating quickly.
“Hey! Is… is this eddie?” You ask, before slapping your forehead. He just said it was you idiot.
“Yes, this is he.”
“Hey, this is-“
“Pretty in pink. How was the movie?” He interrupts and your stomach flutters.
“We actually didn’t go see it, weather was too bad.” You mumble, the words feeling like a stupid lie on your lips as you realize they were indeed a lie. But Eddie doesn’t say anything, he merely hums through the phone.
“What’d you end up doing?”
“Oh just hanging out.” You lie, that gross feeling crawling across your skin. “I just called about your jacket.”
“Oh yeah! Cool. How about I grab it tomorrow? I can pick you up for school if you want?”
“That’d be great!” You smile, something blooming in your chest. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Anything for pretty in pink.”
-
So started your friendship with him.
Every morning he picked you up and every afternoon he took you home unless he had dnd. When word spread about you and Steve you had panicked, Eddie hadn’t batted an eye.
Steve ignored you, so you began thinking that maybe if you ignored it all then it would go away.
No such luck.
The students at Hawkins do not forgive and forget so easily.
Even now, after a long summer and months between the event you found yourself the butt of the joke as you follow Eddie through the school on the first day.
You had spent a majority of your time at his trailer, sleepovers and movie nights a routine. He tried teaching you to drive and you bought him a slushee to make up for the heart attack you gave him at a bad turn.
You had gone to the lake with him in the skimpiest bikini you owned, and he did not once leer at your chest.
You had tried asking him out before, but each time he seemed to shut you down so you settled into the role of best friend, you would take anything you could get from him at this point.
“Slut.” Someone sneers as they pass which makes Eddie smirk.
“Excuse me”. He mumbles, making them stop. “I prefer freak. Keep it simple would you?”
“Whatever freak.” The cheerleader sneers and Eddie smiles watching them walk away before turning to you.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumble, pulling him closer by his leather jacket and playing with the worn out zipper on it. He merely gives you an easy smile and shrugs like it was no biggie.
“They called me a slut.” He jokes, pushing his forehead against yours. “You good?”
Right now? With him so close you can smell that fucking cinnamon and mint smell he always had, imagining him moving the last couple inches and planting his lips on yours? No. You were not good.
But you smile and say “yeah” anyways and his own smile widens before he pulls back.
It isn’t until you get to his locker that you work up the nerve to ask him…… again. “Did…. Did you maybe want to go see a movie sometime?”
“We watch movies all the time?” He laughs, not looking at you as he tries to open his locker.
“Well yeah. But maybe like…. At a theater? And you know…..” why were words so hard to process? “We could go together.”
“Oh. Hell yeah.” He smiles and you feel an excited hope spark in your chest. “I’ll ask the boys what movies are playing and we can all ride together.”
And you had been friendzoned by him once more, you try to smile through it, letting him kiss your cheek before heading to class.
-
The boys all really enjoyed the movies, and you would probably have loved it to if you had been able to sit by Eddie. But Gareth and Jeff had taken those seats which left you between Paul and Jordan. Not that there was anything wrong with either of them you just wanted to curl up into Eddie’s side.
Then, as you thought about it a little more, you realized that maybe the boys had thought about that too. Maybe they had talked about it and played intervention, it did seem like Gareth and Jeff lunged for the seats a little too quickly not to mention the fact that you had caught all of them talking about someone but the second you walked up they went quiet immediately.
They are were probably talking about you, oh god they all probably knew you had a huge crush on him and laughed about it when you weren’t there. This was pathetic and -
“Hey.” Someone snaps in front of your face. “We going?”
You blink, processing Gareth standing in front of you with a bored expression, taking a moment to realize all of them are standing in the aisle while you’re still seated.
“Oh…. Um yeah.” You rush, only to jump a bit when the movie continues.
“Holy shit.” Paul mutters and they all stare at the screen for the 2 minute clip that just rolled. When it’s done they all whirl back to you.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were waiting for the credit scene?” Gareth laughs. “I thought you were crazy!”
Ouch.
He walks off to freak out with the rest as Eddie shuffles closer, reaching a hand to help you up that you don’t take. When you avoid eye contact and pull your skirt down he growls out which draws your attention whether you like it or not.
“What?” You huff.
“Why are you looking at me? You mad at me?”
“No?”
“You avoided my hand.”
“I didn’t avoid your-“ you start to lie and he holds out his hand again.
“Then let’s go princess.”
You smile, slapping his hand like a high five and walking past, knowing he’ll get irritated.
“See! You’re mad about somethin’.” He starts after you, making the three steps before grabbing your elbow and sliding his hand down until it’s on your own. “Keep my hand warm.”
“It’s September. Barely even cold.” You smile, gripping his hand anyways as he leads you out of the theater and through the lobby.
The second you both enter the outside world a small curse slips past his lips as you gasp and immediately move closer, the two of you staying huddled together as you walk to his van.
The second you get there he opens the door, glaring at the boy taking your normal spot during group hangouts.
“Move.”
“Eddie! I never get to sit here man-“
“Jordon move.” He sighs, hands wrapping around you from behind in attempt to keep you a little warmer as the kid takes his time climbing to the back. Then Eddie is helping you into the van, hands on your hips to help you step up and make sure your tiny skirt doesn’t slide up.
You get settled in the middle seat right next to the driver seat as he launches in, turning the car on and blasting the heaters.
“You ever think about wearing more clothes?” Paul laughs.
“You ever think about shutting the fuck up?” You snap, panic immediately taking over as your skin heats up. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I-“
But he merely starts cackling as the rest of them do, Eddie laughing loudly as he squeezes your thigh while Paul elbows you a bit before looking out the window.
You’re proud of yourself because you just said something that made them all laugh, and for once you felt like you fit in with the entire group rather than just Eddie.
He squeezes your thigh again as he spins the wheel smoothly, hands flexing as he drives with ease. That heavy hot feeling starts up again, your skin going hot as you imagine what else he could use those hands for.
Imagining him dropping off the others before pulling over and sliding his fingers up your thigh until they got to your skirt, how his lips would feel against your own and-
The daydream is cut off by the loud rock music Paul turns on, the rest of them beginning to rock out as you tried calming yourself down.
-
Next came Josh Kelleck.
He was a grade above you, and he was really sweet. You didn’t know what to say when he asked you out but people were watching and you didn’t want to be the bad guy so you said yes.
And it was fun, you had been dating him for about 3 weeks and though it wasn’t rock your socks romantic you did have fun.
On the third week you have sex on the couch in his basement, you straddling his hips, rocking back and forth as he mewled below you with his hands gripping your hips. And you were actually getting into it.
Here’s the thing, you were a terrible person.
You weren’t getting pleasured by Josh per se. No no no. It was Eddie below you, it was Eddie gripping your hips as you bounced up and down , his hair that you currently tugged on.
At some point you zoned out Josh’s lame whines and imagined Eddie growling the way he had that night at the theater, glaring up at you.
You were struggling to get there though, if Eddie could just start lifting his hips to meet your bounces then you would be better.
“Can you…” you pant, gripping his hair again. “Maybe like thrust up?”
“Seriously?” The voice under you asks, and you blink slowly because hearing him actually talk ruined Eddie’s image. Shit. You were so close.
But it was too late anyways, Josh sighs before trying to thrust up to meet your own hips, only for his face to pinch up uglishly as he finished into the condom.
“Jesus. Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.
“It’s fine.” You mutter. It wasn’t.
He breaks up with you two days later, Eddie rolls his eyes when you tell him and a part of you feels like you might be annoying him so you smile and pretend like it’s fine.
“You don’t want to hear about my relationship drama.” You laugh. “Forget it.”
“I always want to hear about your dramas.” He mumbles, eyebrows pinching together. “I just don’t like how they treat you.”
Jesus. Why did he make the crush keep growing?
-
Closer to your birthday you try to hang out with the guys but they are all acting weird.
You ask Eddie during school one day if he wanted to go get food and he shrugs and says it’s a boys night. Guilt and embarrassment crawl through you as you realize that meant you were not invited and you smile and shrug like it was no biggie.
Leaning up to kiss his cheek quickly, enjoying the way his hand lands on your hip to keep you stable as you come back down before spinning to show him your outfit. He snatches your lip gloss as a joke when you almost drop it.
“What do you think today?”
“Outrageously cute as always.” He laughs, and you barely even care when two cheerleaders sneer as they pass, how could you when Eddie is looking at you like that?
He says his goodbyes, kissing your forehead before heading off to class and you feel giddy the rest of the day, by the last bell you realize he still had your lip gloss and you wanted to at least say bye before you walked home. So you trailed to the dnd room where you knew they would all be and fixed your hair in preparation to see Eddie.
You stop when you hear them talking about you.
It took you a second to realize it was you, and your hand was already gripping the metal of the handle to turn it when you did finally realize.
“-come on. It doesn’t annoy you that she sleeps around?” Jordon asks. “And that everyone in the school can always see her underwear?”
“You can’t always see her underwear.” Paul defends and you are grateful for him, something warm in your chest. “Just half the time.”
That warmth in your chest shrivels up immediately as they all laugh.
“I kinda like it.” You hear Eddie chuckle out. “She gives the world a show. No cares, confident and happy with herself. How can you not like it?”
At least he was defending you…..sort of.
“You just like that people think you’re banging her.” Jeff laughs and Eddie cackles at that, tears beginning to spring to your eyes.
Was this really happening?
“She complains all the time that she doesn’t like people calling her slut. Yet she never looks at how she dresses, like come on. Get a fucking clue.” Jordon laughs.
“Have you heard her? Girl has no thoughts going between those eyes.” Micah Hughs laughs loudly, the freshman they had just allowed join the group.
You had to get out of here, had to find somewhere else to be and-
In your panic to flee you trip over your own heels, landing awkwardly on the floor and in your panic to stand up you don’t hear Gareth come out of the door to use the bathroom.
It clicks shut, making you whirl to see as he stares at you wide eyes while you let the tears fall freely as you manage to pull yourself up. And it’s made so much worse when you have to tug your dress down your hips to cover your underwear from how you had fallen.
Of fucking course.
“Did you hear-“ he blushes, beginning to gesture to the door behind him before you blink.
“Huh? No. I was c-coming to grab my lipgloss and I fell. Kinda hurt.” You lie, swiping the tears away even though more kept coming.
“You want me to get Eddie? He can drive you home if you're hurt.” Gareth mumbles, looking a bit relieved since you had said you didn’t hear.
“No. I’m just being silly.” You try to laugh, cringing at how airy and vapid it sounds. Micah’s words clinging. “I’m gonna go.”
“Don’t you want to grab your gloss?”
“Oh! I have more at home, no worries.” And to get rid of that suspicion laced on his features you move to walk away.
“I just didn’t want people seeing my walk home in anything but my best.” You giggle, turning and waltzing to the doors like you weren’t truly crushed by what just happened.
-
You play sick the next two days.
You left a voicemail to Eddie’s home while you knew he was still as DND, probably laughing at how slutty and airheaded you were, saying you wouldn’t be at school since you were sick so he didn’t come pick you up.
Spending the first day trying to write it all off, figure out how to move on.
By the second morning you tell your mom to send him away if he knocks, which he does at 6:50 right in the dot. She tells him you’re still sick and you hear him ask if he can see you before he heads off.
“She’s sleeping.” Your mom lies and Eddie thanks her before leaving.
You feel nothing but stupid as you watch his car take off from your window.
She won’t let you call out for a third day so you get dressed and walk to school before Eddie has the chance to pick you up.
You spend the day pulling down your skirt as much as possible feeling dirty at every look you got when normally you wouldn’t have minded.
When Eddie spots you at your locker between classes he gives you a weird look.
“You wanna tell me why you walked today?” He snaps, leaning against the locker next to your own.
“I needed the air.” You lie.
“Okay. Well maybe next time let me know so I don’t show up like some idiot?” His voice is laced with irritation and you think about Micah’s words, something snapping in you.
“I don't need rides anymore.” You snap, watching his face go from irritated to shocked and straight to confused within seconds.
“Wait. Why? What’s going on?”
“I just won’t be-“
“Are you mad at me?” He blurts. “If you are, tell me so we can figure this out. You don’t need to walk everyday, and I was just irritated about this morning. I didn’t mean to be a tool about it.”
“I don’t need rides anymore. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” You shrug quickly, slamming your locker and moving to walk away. He rushes to step in front of you.
“Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry I gave you attitude about this morning. Okay? Please don’t punish me-“ you can’t hear anymore, a bitter laugh crawling up your throat as you shove past him, feeling tears spring to your eyes when you have to fix your skirt.
-
You opt for jeans the next day, and though they chafe against your skin and you feel weird you are also glad you don’t have to keep pulling them down.
And since you donned sneakers your ankles weren’t screaming at every step.
But you still didn’t feel right….. this didn’t feel like you.
“You eating lunch with us today?” Jeff asks, walking alongside you after math, his eyes continuously falling to your legs.
“No. I have to do makeup work for science.” You lie, not meeting his gaze.
“I’ll tell Eddie then.” He nods, holding his hand out for a high five which you ignore and walk off.
-
Ignoring Eddie after school had been easy since you took the side exit out and cut through the woods to get home.
Immediately hiding in your room to do homework before you hear the familiar sounds of his van pull up and hear it slam shut aggressively.
Rushing down the steps the second he pounds on the door and opening it just a crack to see him panting.
“Glad to know you made it home.” He grunts, pushing past you into the welcome hall of your home. Before you can say anything he shoves something at you.
A small bag, from the store, and when you open it you see flu medicine and tissues with a box of chicken noodle soup.
“Jeff said you still weren’t feeling good so I got you some stuff.” He mumbles, seeming to detense a little when he rolls his shoulders. “I was worried when I didn’t see you after school.”
“Sorry.” For what? Not wanting to be near them?
“What’s with the jeans?”
“Cold.”
“Why does it feel like you’re lying to me?” He blurts.
“I’m not.” You lie again, shrugging. “I have to do homework and stuff. I’ll see you at school okay?”
“I can pick you up.”
“I’m good.”
“Princess, come on.” He snaps and you open the door to let him out, still not meeting his gaze when he storms out.
-
The makeup is the next to go.
You toss and turn all night, feeling embarrassed and miserable, and it’s nearly 4 when you fall asleep. You wake up late for school and jump to throw on a sweater and jeans, booking it out the door as fast as you can and dashing to school.
You miss first period and get a detention slip, people stare in the halls and you just feel miserable.
It’s made worse when Eddie finds you in the science room during lunch.
You had been napping, forehead pressed to the cold table, since you hadn’t slept last night. But that’s ruined when you hear the stool beside yours screech and you jump straight, eyes wide as Eddie tries to smile.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He mumbles, reaching his hand out to rub your arm in an attempt to relax you. “Still feeling sick?”
“Yep.” You lie, looking away. He reaches out to feel your forehead for a temp and you let him, enjoying the small amount of contact you can get before you go back to avoiding them.
He sighs at the feel of your forehead, closing his eyes a bit while he looks like he’s debating something. “Fuck it.” He mutters before moving to stand, pushing your legs apart and standing between them as he shoves your face into his chest and wraps his arms around you tightly.
The second he has you in his arms he breathes out a sigh of relief, kissing the top of your head a couple times.
“What are you doing?” You mumble.
“It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten to hug you.” He admits, holding you a little tighter. “How about we go to the diner tonight? I’ll even get you a milkshake-“
“I have detention.”
“Since when do YOU get detention?” He scoffs.
“I was late this morning.”
“You’re sick.”
“Tell that to the teacher.”
“I fucking will. Is it Mr. Rojas?! I’ll go talk to him right fucking now because that could go on your file and-“ he’s ranting as he moves to walk away, until you grab his leather jacket and pull his attention back.
He stares at you, eyes glued to your own while he just takes you in. And then after a moment of silence he whispers “you’re scaring me.”
“Why?”
“You’re not being you.”
“I…..” you try to find something to say, but can find absolutely nothing and just manage to shrug. “I’m tired.”
You expect him to get the hint and leave, but he shrugs back as moves to sit on the stool he started in, pulling out his Dnd book as you lay your head down.
After a moment you feel him start rubbing your back and let sleep claim you.
-
Eddie was miserable.
There was something wrong and he couldn’t figure out how to fix it which was beginning to piss him off more. You were mad at him, he knew that. And suddenly you don’t want to dress up anymore? What the fuck?
Since when have you ever…. God did someone say something to you? Did someone make a move on you? Was he too much? Shit he had to have made you feel uncomfortable somehow.
If that was true he would kill himself. If he harassed you in anyway then he would jump off the cliff-
“Hey.” Gareth greets, looking nervous.
“Hey?” Eddie greets back, eyes snapping to where his friend stands in front of the porch where Eddie is sitting with a cigarette in hand. “Why are you here?”
“I came here about princess.” Gareth sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Why?” Eddie snaps out, feeling protective. If Gareth did something to you-
“She heard us.”
“I’m sorry?”
“That night at DND whike everyone was shittalking her? When I went to use the bathroom I saw her in the hall.”
“I wasn’t shit talking her-“
“No. But the other boys were and I know she heard them. She was crying and-“
“WHY DIDNT YOU SAY SOMETHING THEN?!” Eddie yells, flicking the cigarette away and moving to his van.
“Where you going man?”
“To talk to her.”
-
He doesn’t knock this time, he already knows your parents aren’t home and so he storms in and slams the door shut before he takes the stairs 4 at a time and waltzes into your room quickly.
Flicking on the light switch he sees you snap awake from a nap, reaching a hand out to your exposed ankle and dragging you down the bed.
“Rise and shine princess.” He greets, as you try to register what’s happening.
“Why are you here?” You snap, trying to wake up.
“When we’re you going to tell me you heard?” He snaps back, face getting into yours. “Huh? Just gonna be mad forever and stop talking to us?”
“Yeah! Maybe!” You scoff, eyes staying on the floor beneath him as he tries not to lose his shit. Look at me look at me lookatme.
Finally he loses control, hand flying to your jaw to make you look up. “Look. At. Me.”
“Why?! So you can run and tell your friends-“
“I didn’t say anything bad-“
“YES YOU DID!”
“NO I FUCKING DIDNT!”
“You said ‘she puts on a show, no cares’ and-“
“You do put on a show! I put on a show! This town is so fucking boring they they are begging for drama and we just so happen to provide most of it. What’s the fucking problem with me calling it?”
“Then you laughed when Jeff said-“
“I KNOW WHAT JEFF SAID!”
“YOU LAUGHED!”
“BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS IVE BEEN PINING AFTER YOU!” He screams. “I wasn’t fucking laughing at you I was laughing at myself. And I’m really frustrated that you would think I would ever laugh at you for something like that.-“
“Okay so you didn’t say anything. You let others say it.”
“Since when do I have any fucking control over what they say?”
“Oh please. We all know you’re their fucking god. You snap your fingers and they all get on their knees. Yet somehow I’m the slut-“ his hand grabs the back of your neck then, pulling your face into his own aggressively as his lips finally meet yours.
He nearly melts at the touch, body fizzing as his stomach does waves.
You kiss back, thank goodness for it, wrapping your arms around him as his other hand snakes around your waist. After a minute you both pull back, eyes wide as stare at eachother.
You’re the first to move after that, pulling him back in to keep making out, which he happily does. You slide your hands under his leather jacket, sliding them across his chest until your pushing the jacket off.
He has to remove his hands from you to help you get it off, which leaves him cold and he tries to reach for you again only for you to step back and tear your sweater off.
“Wait-“ he blurts, heart stopping as your eyes widen.
“I’m so sorry. That was- oh my god I thought you wanted-“
“I do. I do I do I do. But I only want it if you want it.”
“I’m sorry?” You blink. Shit, we was gonna pummel Steve Harrington and that other fucking kid.
“I only want to have sex if you want to have sex. I don’t want you to do it because you think I want to do it.”
“I….. I want to do it.”
“You hesitated.”
“Eddie-“
“I just want you feeling comfortable and-“ but you are leaning up to kiss him again, a growl slipping past his lips into your own as you moan out quickly.
You reach for his belt buckle and he helps take it off, jumping from his pants as he tears his shirt off and tries to kiss you again before you reach to take your pants off.
“I like when you….” He starts, moving to help with your pants, all but tearing them off.
“You like?”
“I like when you defend yourself. When you snap at me and argue with me. I like that fucking fire.” He smiles. “It always makes me really hard. But I don’t like when you shut down.”
“I haven’t shut down-“
“You have.” He interrupts. “And you fucking scared me. I don’t think you’re a slut or anything else. I’ve always admired you for everything. You hear me?”
“I….” You didn’t know what to say, your heart beating through your chest and your lungs constricting. “I just-“
“I get it. Maybe you need a break from the dresses and I’m all for that. Hell, I’ll take you to get jeans anytime you want. And I love your face, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, with it without makeup. But baby these past couple days you-“
“I just was embarrassed.” You admit. “I felt disgusting and-“
Before you can finish your sentence he sighs out, looking to be in pain as he crawls over you until his forehead is resting on your chest and he collapses on top of you, keeping you held close. “Imsosorry.”
It’s muffled since his face is pressed into your skin and he wraps around you like a koala bear. “Imsosorry.”
“It’s fine.” You lie.
“It’s not.” He snaps, sitting up a bit. “It’s not fine. I’m so sorry. You were feeling this way because of all that shit and- you were never supposed to get hurt because of me. The rest of the school is bad enough but I wanted you to feel safe around me and-“ he breathes out, tightening his arms around you if that’s even possible.
“It’ll be okay.”
“I’m sorry.” And you don’t know why, but you feel the safest you ever have in his arms, letting him hold you and you both somehow managed to fall asleep.
-
When you woke up you were both still stripped to your underwear, but the comforter had been pulled up and your face was pressed into a pillow with hot puffs blowing on the back of your neck making you giggle as your body shudders.
He wakes up at the movement, the arm wrapped around you pulling you in as he blinks away the grogginess. “What’s wrong?”
“You were breathing down my neck.” You admit, laughing when he does it again on accident before turning so you were facing each other rather than spooning you. He takes to rubbing slow circles on your lower back where his hand sits, first a star and then a heart. His eyes are still closed, on the cusp of waking and dreaming still, his mouth opened partially.
“We didn’t have sex.” You whisper.
“Then why am I so tired?” He mumbles back, making you roll your eyes at his joke.
“I think….. it’s weird that we haven’t done it and yet this feels so much more warm and intimate than the…. Others.”
“You deserved better.” He grunts, eyes cracking open just the slightest bit.
“It wasn’t bad, it was just-“
“Did you cum?” You choke at his questioning, eyes wide as his own open up fully to watch your reaction.
“I’m not telling you that.”
“That’s answer enough.” He chuckles lowly before going a little serious. “Did…. Did you want to cum?”
“I……” your body is hot, and you’re sure he can feel your heart beating through your skin and into his. Finally, you let out your breathy answer. “Yeah.”
“Can I…. Can I make you?”
“If you want.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. But you know the second his eyes glaze over with a heated determination that he wants nothing more.
He doesn’t break eye contact with you, not as his hand slides from your lower back down to your ass and feeling the skin there in slow circles.
Then he moves his hand to your thigh, pushing a bit so you’re laying on your back while he stays on his side, his palm sliding across your skin slowly, warming you up even more.
“You’re gorgeous.” He mutters, eyebrows pinching together as he gazes down at you. With his hair a little wild from the sleeping and his eyes still glazed over you can’t seem to look away. “So freaking beautiful.”
He hadn’t even started yet and you were already a blushing mess beneath him, finally looking away to cover your face as his finger begins tracing around your panties.
“No no no.” He whines, pressing his face into yours as he begins leaving lazy kisses. “I want to see your face. Let me see you.”
“You’re making me nervous.” You growl out as his finger toys with the waistband of the lace fabric.
“Am I? Because I’m stating a fact?” He laughs lightly, nipping at your jaw before you finally move your hands and his smile widens from ear to ear.
“Eddie….” You blush, getting ready to tell him to shove off before his finger finds purchase between your folds, pulling a gasp from you as he laughs.
“Take a deep breath now.” He teases, rubbing softly and moving to keep kissing at your face, bringing his thumb to help his ministrations.
You moan when he presses that magic spot and you hear him gasp from beside you. “You ready?”
“I’m ready.” You nod a little bit too eagerly.
And with that he pushes two fingers into you, biting your earlobe as you moan, before he begins moving them in and out.
“Is this good?”
“Just…. Maybe….” You don’t know how to explain it, and you don’t want to make him feel bad so you shrug. “It’s good.”
“Bullshit.” He laughs. “Show me what you want.”
So you do, his tone making you more confident as your own hand slides down to cover his. “That’s it. Show me how you like it.”
You do, using your hand to guide his own, his two fingers pressing in and out of you as his thumb begins rubbing at your clit making you shudder in pleasure.
“Oh…” you gasp, the heat in your lower gut beginning to tighten. And then he curls his fingers and your back arches, a louder moan falling from your lips as he kisses at your shoulder.
He does it again, speeding up his thumb as your eyes clench, that tight feeling getting worse. Your stomach coiling as your legs shove together in panic.
“Wait-“ you rush, not understanding the feeling.
“Trust it princess.” He growls. “Be my good girl and let go, yeah?”
“Ed’s, no-“ but it’s too late, a cry slips from your lips as your high comes, that feeling finally uncoiling as your body shudders.
“God. You’re fucking Beautiful.” He growls, pushing his face into your neck to kiss you as you breathe in and out and begin relaxing again.
You’re body grows heavy, sleep edging at your vision but you sit up and move for the waistband of his boxers before he stops you, shaking his head. “Not about me tonight. Okay princess? Just let me hold you.”
And so you do, feeling a little weird at the fact that he wasn’t immediately jumping up to leave, closing your eyes as you finally cave into the sleep.
-
The next morning, to your shock, he sits at the end of your bed and watches you get dressed with narrowed eyes.
You start with the crappy jeans you had been wearing, but sigh when you realize they were still caked in mud at the bottom and slipping them off to search through your closet once more.
He watches, not saying anything at first but then he stands up abruptly and shuffles closer to move past you and dig through your closet for you and snatches a cute skirt with the top you always wore with it.
You watch with raised eyebrows when he hands them to you.
“You want a longer skirt?” He offers when you seem to hesitate. “I didn’t see another pair of jeans in there.”
“Maybe… a longer skirt.” He smiles at the answer, a purely happy smile, before he dives back in to search while you move to finish getting ready. He finds a longer, knee length skirt that still matches the top and moves over. Bending down and tapping your calf to tell you to step into the skirt. Using him to help you stay stable and letting him dress you in the skirt. His hands slide against your skin, and he zips it slowly before they slide up your abdomen up to your neck and to your jaw as he smiles. His thumb rubs your skin before you pull back. “Don’t mess up the makeup.”
“I would never.” He grins wolfishly gripping the back of your head and pulling you in for a deep kiss that definitely messes your gloss up.
You growl displeasure but kiss back just as heartily.
-
At lunch you don’t have a chance to hide in the science room, Eddie is waiting at the door and pulls you away with his arms around your shoulders. He pretends to faint, dragging you both into lockers as you laugh loudly.
“You gonna come eat with us?” He asks softly.
“No….. but maybe I’ll see you later?”
“Okay, well I can take you home after school or maybe…. You’d want to- okay how about we go get dinner. Just you and I.” He mumbles, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.
“Sounds great.” You smile. “See you after school then?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby.” He smiles, kissing you once more before heading into the lunch room.
There was a lot of work to do to make everything right again, and Eddie had to start. Today he would be setting things straight with his friends.
1K notes · View notes
simpjaes · 9 months ago
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hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE
can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????
hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex
warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig
note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D
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★ heeseung:
what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao
and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.
but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?
you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."
it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.
so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.
just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?
but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.
after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.
☆ jay:
i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.
honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.
then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.
you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.
always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.
after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.
still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.
always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.
(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)
★sunghoon:
ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.
this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.
so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.
ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.
after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.
an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.
and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.
and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.
so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.
it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.
☆ jake:
bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.
it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.
yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.
it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.
he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.
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teamatsumu · 1 year ago
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kinktober 2023 -> day 27
hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader
word count: 2100
warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol
kinktober masterlist
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Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.
You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.
If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.
It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.
He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.
“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.
“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.
“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.
“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”
Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.
“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”
“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.
“No, I told him to meet me here.”
You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”
He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”
You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”
Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”
He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.
“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”
You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.
You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.
…………………
The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.
“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”
You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.
“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”
Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”
You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”
He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”
“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.
“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”
“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.
You stepped forward until your lips met his.
Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.
Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.
“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.
“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.
His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.
He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.
“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.
“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.
His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.
“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.
“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.
“Over my dead body.”
Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”
“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”
Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.
“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.
“Please,” you gave in.
“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.
“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”
He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.
“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”
You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.
“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”
“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.
You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.
“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”
You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.
“You fucking asshole-”
He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.
Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.
And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.
You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.
You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”
You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?
He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.
“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.
“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.
“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.
Fuck.
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Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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