#Not to mention the fucked up “accomplishment” sound every time you make the “right” choice
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"What was I thinking? Kris wasn't trying to hurt me... They were just making me stronger."
"If Kris tells me to do it... I can do things I could never do before.
As long as I... Just do what they say..."
#I used my own hands as a ref so I hope it looks ok lol#deltarune snowgrave#deltarune spoilers#deltarune#This fucking game AFKJASHFJK#It does such a good job of making me feel like a piece of shit for pretty much every action#redirecting noelle away from thinking ab Susie by saying you'll go with her on the ferris wheel instead and insisting on it#making you sound like the only one who cares and reinforcing that sense of trust#pushing her over and over to “proceed” even when she straight up says “NO”#talking for her in a few cases#just straight up gaslighting her a few times#all in the name of “making her stronger”#Not to mention the fucked up “accomplishment” sound every time you make the “right” choice#It's so good URGH#and now I'm stuck on a brutally hard bossfight in both Undertale and Deltarune now :D#artists on tumblr
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2/7/24
as you can see, i did not post yesterday.
i straight-up binged yesterday. not even that i ate more than i would have liked, i ate until my stomach hurt, and i became nauseous. halting my progress with weight loss is one thing -- and, yes, it is terrible and i am horrified. but what truly irks me, and legitimately unsettles me, is the betrayal of my own principles. am i seriously all talk? am i hypocrite through and through? am i lying to myself? i worry that i am not who i think i am -- or maybe i do know who i am deep down, but don't want to meet eyes with it. what conclusion i draw is that i am a weak-minded person, i do not have actual convictions, and i do whatever is easiest for me. i cannot commit to anything -- life or death, happiness or suffering, so i just meander between the two. i made a goal with intentions to suffer and create meaning from it, so i can die peacefully. if i am not following this, then what the fuck am i doing?
yesterday was so upsetting to me, that it kept playing in my head throughout today, unable to let it go and making me feel sick. it made me more suicidal than i already am. i have been intentionally refraining from these lines of thought, so it does not hinder my goals, and i try not consider it until it is the right time. but i couldn't stop from having these thoughts today. if i were to pursue these, it would have to give great certainty, because i am not failing again, and ending up hospitalized. i'd have to try a more directly fatal method then past attempts; this however, is hard, because i have to have a greater gall to do it. it's a lot easier to coax yourself into taking a bottle of pills, then the alternative method i am considering. i wonder if i even have the strength to do it, or if i am too much of a fucking coward? so pathetic.
even so, this isn't relevant yet, because i refuse to act on these impulses for the time being. i cannot let this intercede my plans. i've stated this before, but caving in leads to mistakes -- errors that i cannot afford. the possibility of failure is not something i want to risk happening. i'd also be throwing all my efforts, my goal, to the wind. i am not willing to give that up yet. it will defeat the entire purpose of my wish. i'll die accomplishing nothing, really being the useless person i have always believed myself to be, and the weak-minded individual i characterized above. at least if i push myself to the limit, it says something about me -- that i can be passionate and purposeful, instead of a body that simply is alive, but ultimately, devoid of any soul.
again, i am so perturbed by all this is because i am ruining my goal, i am going against what i claim to care about. maybe i hate being human, that full-control will forever be beyond my grasp. a part of me always has and will long for perfection. regardless, i need to remember that mistakes are inevitable, and will be inevitable for me, and to not let my emotions best me. if i stumble on my path, i have to regain balance, brush myself off, and continue forward. i have no other choice. i am such a jumble of contradictions, it's so hard to decipher for me what i even believe. when i'm lying, when i'm telling the truth. my problem is that i think too hard about it; i question every little action i take, and waste time trying to consider what it means and why. it doesn't actually matter. all that matters is getting my shit together long enough to win. falling into pieces can wait. i desperately need to focus.
another piece of information to mention is that i attended a consultation for interventional psychiatry. essentially, the psychiatrist recommended me to do either esketamine or tms (transcranial magnetic stimulation). this is problematic to me. based on how they described it, it sounded too effective, stating around 70% of patients reduce their depression symptoms by 50% -- either that, or the psychiatrist was trying to market it in the most flattering light. obviously, i do not want to be altered by this procedure. i have no desire to "improve" my mental health -- it would be counterproductive to my goal. i need to be in a depressed enough mindset to accomplish what i set out to do. and, on top of that, securing stability in happiness is no longer a priority to me. i am not interested in it.
the reason why i can't just refuse to do this, is because i am being forced to by my parents. even though, i am a legal adult now and can't be technically forced to do anything, i have to maintain a good relationship with them. i need the appearance of stability to protect myself, and more specifically and above all else, my eating disorder. i am financially dependent upon them, and i do care about them and i have a motivation to shield them from the reality of my situation (whether this is out of selflessness or selfishness is debatable). the reason i attend therapy and take my medications is to satisfy them. but i am also aware, the medication and therapy do not change me in ways i dislike. i have no idea what these procedures would do to me. i want to confidently say it'll make no difference, but i have gotten warier. i do not believe manipulating them into thinking that i am better and do not need these procedures would work. so, it would seem my hands are tied. i'll continue to update about this as it either comes to fruition or the aftermath of it.
on today's restriction, it could have been better, which is also irritating, considering the fiasco over yesterday. i have still yet to attempt purging again to see if it is working again. i was originally going to try again after wednesday, but i think that i might see my friend tomorrow instead of friday, and i'll be unable to. i'm not sure if this is necessarily a bad thing, because perhaps waiting longer may hopefully convince my body to work properly. i will admit, though, that i am hesitating because i am afraid of discovering that my break did nothing. then again, i suppose nothing can be done, and i would have to rely purely on restriction. this would definitely be a significant blow to me nevertheless, morale-wise and goal-wise. since i am unable to fast for days and have to restrict my intake instead, no longer having purging as an option, would be a hindrance. i really don't want to have to think about this.
goodness, this might be the longest entry i have ever made. i have a feeling no one will read this one (lol). even so, if you managed to read all this, despite my incessant complaining and unsavory pity-party throwing, then i congratulate you. i hope you have a better day than mine.
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{12:30} Shoto Todoroki, 862 words, fem!reader (she/her prns), tw/cw: rape, brief mention of dissociation, just ooc!Shoto in general.
Minors, it is in your best interest to not interact.
--- was exhausted. Mentally and physically. All she could do was hang limp and take the swollen member of her classmate. Tears rolled down her face absent-mindedly; it was long past the days of fighting and begging for mercy. How did this session start? The night seemed like a blur to her.
The common room was a nice study spot for ---. Especially around curfew, when her classmates were occupied with sleep or getting ready for it. She had plenty of room to wander, pace, stretch; whatever she needed to do to keep herself awake. There were big windows to look out of whenever she needed a break. Possibly the best part was a well-worn couch to curl up in. Her back didn’t take kindly to sitting at the kitchen table for too long.
Her only mistake studying here was that it was a public space. A place where co-ed was accepted. --- always wondered if she studied in her room, would this even happen?
As usual, a presence surprised her. She was so immersed in her textbook that she didn’t notice him enter until he was covering her mouth and pulling her off the chair. As usual, he had no problems lifting her and taking her over to the couch, sitting down with her on his lap. His low voice whispered apologies that he didn’t mean; I just need help, you can help me again, right?
---’s blood ran cold as she felt how hard he was. A wet spot was already soaking through his sweats and into her leggings. It didn’t help that he had snuck two cold fingers into her mouth, poking and prodding at her tongue. As to why he liked this act so much escaped her. The first couple of times was to keep her quiet, but he continued as she resigned herself to not make a peep.
His warm left hand snaked down her body as his lips attached to the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. He took his time, tweaking her nipples and leaving dark hickies. --- felt her body temperature rise against her will, body reacting to the unwanted attention. Her eyes screwed closed as he finally reached where he wanted to go. See? Isn’t this getting easier? You’re much more wet than last time.
Experienced fingers quickly brought --- to her first orgasm. She hated how well he had memorized her body, every single stimulation she reacted to the most. She was putty in his hands, ready to be molded and formed in any way he wished. Outside of these moments, he subtly weaponized this information he harvested. Light touches, seemingly friendly gestures, pseudo-platonic skinship that set ---’s nerves on fire and her heart into deep despair. He kept a tight hold on her at all times.
A dull pain brought --- back from her dissociation. She was never quite ready physically when his fairly thick cock entered her. A low groan reverberated down her spine. You feel so good princess. Always so tight for me.
--- wondered how they never woke anyone up or attracted attention. The harsh slap of skin on skin sounded like thunder in her ears. He had ended up bending her over the arm of the couch and drilling into her in doggy, holding her upper arms like vice grips so he could pull her back and get in as deep as he could. Surely his grip would leave bruises in the morning.
A second orgasm racked ---’s body as his strokes became more and more irregular. Somehow she always squirted when he was fucking her like this. He would always praise her for it too, seeing it as an accomplishment, but --- would feel like death every time. The feeling of liquid slowly rolling down her thighs was something she would never want to feel again if she had a choice.
Nearing the end, he yanked --- up flush against his chest, turning her head so he could get a firm kiss in. He never kissed her until he was on the verge of cumming, mostly because he needed to muffle the long moan he would let out. Finally, --- felt him twitch and then uncomfortably warm cum fill her up. Possibly the worst feeling on the planet.
He pulled away, a string of saliva bridging the distance from their tongues. For a second, --- could see the lust in his eyes before he let her go to fall forward onto the arm again. --- had no energy to move or to say anything as he pulled out and patted her sensitive cunt. What a good girl. Pussy all filled with my cum. Behave and keep it.
--- waited for him to leave before she attempted to get her bearings. She fixed her clothes and collected her textbook and notebooks. She made sure the couch had no stains and she sprayed air freshener before going up to her room for the night. She went to the bathroom and showered, popping a contraceptive pill before going to sleep.
And the worst part? She would have to see Shoto in the morning and pretend nothing ever happened.
#mha smut#bnha smut#shoto todoroki smut#tw: rape#my brainchild#fucking help#I was too lazy to copy/paste (y/n) like 12 times#I'm not in a great place rn and this really shows it so :))) you're welcome I have forced my problems onto a fairly tame fandom#timestamp
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Ethereal
Yan!Dragon King!Bakugou Katsuki x Water Nymph!f!reader
The water nymphs send an unusual peace offering this year...
Warnings: Reader sent as a peace offering so feelings of objectification are present. Yandere themes. Possessiveness. Yandere bakugou but only becomes outwardly yandere towards the end. Death (killing). Not too descriptive about wounds though, although they are mentioned (not inflicted on reader). Bakugou is a bit of a douchebag at the start.
wordcount: 4.5 k
tags: @angie-1306 (your ask got deleted but thank god you werent on anon) @axther @reddriot
A bundled-up body was dropped under his throne, the body writhing and trying to get muffled screams to be heard.
“My king, the water nymphs made a peace offering. She was dropped off in front of the castle entrance.”
Bakugou’s rich red eyes calculatedly glanced down, breath hitching for a second at the beauty of the roped female—a water nymph. An offering to him. His eyes made contact with yours, seeing the clear defiance and disdain in them, but he knows this look, behind made walls of resistance and will of steel is a petrified woman afraid of her fate. How unfortunate for you. Your eyes were wide and glassy, cute in their attempt at conveying anger, brows furrowed in a glare that merely made Bakugou smirk in amusement. Your mouth, even with the rope muffling every sound you made, clearly showcased a pair of sweet and kissable lips.
The nymphs who sacrificed you did you no favour as well, for they left you scantily dressed, leaving you exposed to the hungry eyes of dragons around you, irking Bakugou slightly that others are looking at his prize.
He left his throne, languidly walking up to you before crouching down to inspect you, to see what’s so special about you. The water nymphs never usually offered one of their own in their attempt at maintaining neutral peace. This ritual which they adopted since ancient times became nothing more than a nicety, they usually offered rare fish, nuts, never a full-fledged nymph, and an attractive one at that. Perhaps the fact that Bakugou, the most renowned dragon shifter finally claimed the throne made them feel unsettled. For his savage and bloodthirsty need to be the absolute best was second to none.
His calloused palms took a hold of your face, ignoring your attempts at deflecting his hold as his massive palm dwarfed your face and made it plenty clear he can easily crush you. He inspected your face from different angles, seeing nothing extraordinary. He took this opportunity to feel up your soft skin which had been tempting him ever since he noticed you laying helplessly on the floor. He then confirmed the validity of the rumours that claimed water nymphs had skin supple and silky as water. It felt like he was running his finger across the surface of a ripple, a mere dip of his finger could breach the surface.
Heh, you’re kinda pretty. So very different from draconian women, who had thick builds paired with excellent survival skills and shifting abilities, but you...he bets it was so easy to overpower you and wrap you up nicely for him to unpack his gift.
He lifts you, his muscles bulging and tensing, proving that carrying you was not a struggle to him in the slightest.
He ignores your useless thrashing, kicking and resisting like a wild bird held in a tyrant's hand. Its wings contained and nails not doing any damage, freedom seeming further and further away. He walks with you on his shoulders, his massive, hulking shoulders.
Soon enough, the rowdy chatter of the men becomes scarce, and their figures even more so, making you double your efforts in trying to escape the tyrant lumping you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
“Tsk, keep bein’ a brat and I’ll have to tie your shitty hands.” He turned his head to look at you as he said this, cementing his statement with a fiery glare that only infuriated you further.
He ignored any protest you made after that, walking with you and entering a wing that looked to be heaven-sent from the sheer luxury, gold highlights emphasized in every corner, treasures and artefacts littered around the corridor in a painfully tidy and organised to the very centimetre, clearly they got shined twice a day. However, the further he ventured, the more the previous shine lost its glory, it appeared clean, however, the stark contrast to the speckless shine from before was clear.
Bakugou stopped in front of the grandest door, he twisted the golden doorknob, finally appreciating your quietness. You couldn’t help it, you weren’t particularly rich back home, so to see this reincarnation of decadence really has your eyes glassing, bright in some semblance of joy, you forgot your situation for a second.
You were rudely reminded when you were dumped down on a hard surface.
“OUCH, YOU ASSHOLE.”
When you looked down, however, every profanity disappeared from your tongue as it twisted in awe. You were thrown on a pile of fucking treasure. A huge, mountainous pile of glittering gold and brandished silver, rubies, and every single gem one could imagine.
Bakugou narrowed his eyes, scowling at how much he liked the view of you on top of his hoard. He smirked, feeling prideful and accomplished until he noticed that the walls of fury and fire you built up ever since he saw broke in the worst way possible. Your face was scrunched, it felt like your cheeks were lit aflame in humiliation as tears streaked down your adorable face.
Bakugou felt like the biggest douchebag to walk the earth.
You brought your knees closer and hid your face behind them, body shaking as you sobbed. Your tribe sent you as a peace offering, not caring for the slightest about your well being and fate, and now you're stuck here with a brute of a king who has no qualms with treating you like a glorified piece of jewellery. You didn’t want him to see this side of you this soon, you didn’t want him to see how petrified you are, how weak and defenceless you are compared to him. You wanted to rivers of anguish gushing from your eyes to stop, but they wouldn’t.
“Hey…” he tried to console you. It was a poor attempt from an unpractised dragon.
You tried to speak, navigate around that lump in your throat to shout at him, tell him to leave you alone, but your voice failed you just like everything tends to.
You felt him clumsily try to lift your head in a gesture that fell between a forceful demand and a soothing touch. What is up with him now?
You relented and showed him your puffy eyes, glistening eyes, looking at him with trembling lips.
“Tch, stop crying! You—you’ll get snot and tears all over my hoard.”
It was the wrong thing to say, because a fresh batch of tears came, staining the apples of your cheeks.
“Fuck—no. I didn’t mean that.” Your sniffling was reduced to mere hiccups, break down halting at the sight of the most feared man on the earth, the legendary dragon king bakugou, most hardened warrior and skilled shifter, attempting to apologise.
“Shit—I wouldn’t have to be so rough if I knew it bothered you this much.” He pouted, cheeks turning a shade of red that seems almost adorable, turning away from you to scowl at the floor.
Fuck, his mother taught him better, yet the sight of you made him forget any semblance of manners, eager to get his hands on you and away from the prying eyes of people to who you didn’t belong.
An innate sense of possessiveness engulfed him, one that can only be appeased with you sitting on the one place most intimate and guarded by him: his hoard.
But, he’ll tone it down until he gets you more pliant and accepting.
“Stay where you are.” He simply commanded before walking off.
You stayed there, mind urging you to run away, a foolish choice your pride keeps urging you to make. Runaway, in a castle heavily guarded, without having the slightest clue how to get to the exit.
Yeah, bad idea. You’re sure you aren’t welcome back ‘home’ anyway. The thought feels like a sharp dagger slicing your heart, taking its time carving the pain into you.
Soon enough, Bakugou is back, trying to tone down his intimidating aura, but to no avail, for he noticed you shrinking at the sight of his hulking figure. It stung him a little, making his frown a little tighter.
“Come with me,” he said curtly, then walked swiftly out, his cape swishing behind him, making you scramble to follow him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps, frustration slowly rising like bile up your throat and making it harder to stay silent and compliant.
He took you out of the castle, ignoring the curious looks to the best of his ability, but before he could step a foot outside the gate, he grits his teeth in anger and took off his cape. He bundled you in it and lifted you, once again, like a sack of potatoes. But you were too busy feeling like you were lit on fire as you realised that you were walking around in the outfit you were donned in or lack thereof. You buried your face in the fabric, unintentionally making a sound that’s caught between a groan and a whimper.
He walked behind the castle, climbing places with you on his back until he got to where he needed to be
When you arrived, however, you are almost glad you didn’t voice your woos. The sight before you was breathtaking, so much so that your previous plights evaporated even if for a minute.
The scenery was breathtaking, it was a cave, and in the corner, if it was a treasure pile, except merely saying it's a pile was an understatement as it was a mountain in its own right. The hoard you saw back at the castle was incomparable. But that’s not what truly captured you. As he led you further in, you realised the true purpose of this journey.
There was a medium-sized pool, wide enough to fit comfortably in the cave without hogging up all the space, but deep enough that even Bakugou with his stature could enjoy a swim in it. It was clear too, so clear you felt like you could dip your leg in it and see through your very own flesh, that it would make your skin translucent. It was a shade of blue one could only dream of seeing, and after doing so would live their life content.
Perhaps you were biased, seeing that it’s in your very nature as a water nymph to be needing close contact with water, and to be enamoured with it.
All rationale left you though, needing for the water to cleanse you of all your stress and pain, and so bakugou’s cape slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor, your figure leaving it behind as you approached the water and slipped inside. You felt a rush of dopamine override all the negativity inside of you, feeling the water hug you, surround you, shield you.
“So it's true, huh?”
You almost forgot he was here, but Bakugou didn’t forget about you, not even for a second. He was watching you, fascination swirling in his pupils as your expression melted to one of near happiness, heart lurching with every cute expression you made, that *he* caused.
“What is?” You replied, turning in the water to face him.
“That water nymphs live such carefree lives because they spend them inside ponds and lakes.”
You scrunch your nose at that, unable to fathom the exact meaning of his words but having an idea. “We don’t live carefree lives. Not all are given that luxury, at least not me.” You said, giving him a once over with a glare to signify that he’s the problem. He’s the root cause of your misery, Bakugou doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s quite unfortunate really.
He shrugs his shoulders and reverts to his default face, feigning nonchalance.
“Well, it doesn’t seem like much goes on in your ditzy head.”
You felt your face warm, could very well hear the aggressive thrumming of your blood as you gritted your teeth in anger. And you were about to unleash the full force of your fury until you heard wings flapping outside.
You turned your head, trying to take a glance at the disturbance, but your view was shielded by Bakugou, who moved unnaturally fast for someone who made it clear how nothing phases him. And not fast enough for you to think it’s a real threat.
He came back moments later with an attire you regretfully recognized.
No, scratch that, he brought several. Pale, light flowy dresses that are often worn by your people. Light enough that they wouldn’t mind an occasional soak in water.
Your anger dissipated, melting into confusion, then quickly becoming embarrassment as you realised you were comfortably standing in front of him in your underwear.
You should feel happy, but bile rose up your throat, the taste of humiliation clear on your tongue as you realised with distaste that he was indeed right, you did live carefreely. You also realised you won’t be able to live like that ever again, and that very realisation brought tears to your eyes once again.
“Tch, just take one and wear it. I don’t need you crying again.”
Your face fell, and Bakugou felt his heart twinge a little when you responded with silence, looking at your sad face made him feel oddly protective. It’s probably because you were his treasure. Like his hoard right? He always needs his treasure to be kept in optimum conditions.
Having justified that to himself, he didn’t feel as weird now regarding what he was about to do.
While you changed into one of the outfits he got you, he dug through his hoard, knowing exactly what item he wanted to dig out. His fingers slithered through countless gold pieces, shining enough to cure a greedy man’s blindness. He finally found it, a delicate golden chain, but what demands attention is the ruby hanging from it. He brings a thumb to it, rubbing the rock appreciatively, liking the semblance of the colour to his eyes.
You coughed, signaling you you were done, snapping away his wondrous gaze from the necklace.
You looked really pretty in the dress, he’s got to thank Kiri for the speed run to the shops that he did. The light material hugs your skin, looking stretchy, yet form fitting that it hugged your body in a way that made Bakugou jealous.
You looked in your element now, but somehow the awkwardness still lingered in the air as you avoided his gaze.
Bakugo didn’t try to be subtle when checking you out, in his eyes, you were *his* whether or not that’s what he chose so he can at least check what he has right?
Bakugou didn’t pay heed to the slow spiral of his morals, of the things he worked so hard to uphold. His justifications were slowly manifesting into delusions.
He approached you, ignoring the way you tensed when he went behind you, turning around to question him, but he was quickly done. Your eyes caught the glistening red ruby hanging from your neck, the colour rich and deep like red wine. You didn’t hate it, but confusion swirled in your veins at his actions.
“Looks good on you.” The colour looks like my eyes, it reminds me that you’re mine.
Bakugo wasn’t sure why he held off on telling you what’s on his mind, he usually doesn’t hesitate once to tell the truth.
Your wide, glittery eyes stared up at him, trying but failing to hide their awe. The anger and resentment took a backseat to intrigue, so did he pick this out for you because he thought it would look nice on you? How strange of him.
He lifted a calloused finger up, face now cleared and relaxed that he looked pretty, not intimidating, not barbaric, but pretty. He caressed your cheek, smiling slightly when he felt how warm it was. It slipped off his face all too soon when he took the reins back. He squished your cheek, lips once again taking the shape of a sadistic smile.
“You look dumb”
Your features hardened, gaze narrowed in anger and hatred that it made Bakugou surprised. Surprised by how much he hated it, or by the sheer intensity? He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts though, because a dainty hand flew his way and slapped his hand away.
“You-“ you nearly growled in anger, tears once again coating your eyes because of him. “You rude, barbaric, selfish, egoistical “jerk!” You shouted at him. Why were you this angry?
“Just when I think you might be a decent person.” You rub furiously at your eyes, shoulders slouched in disappointment as you disappeared deeper into the cave and out of his sight. You were always so naive and easy to fool.
Bakugou felt the full weight of your words weighing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off. He walked out, silently brooding with his thoughts until a servant came and delivered dinner.
He stood up, walking to you with tje food in his arms, hoping he could butter you up with it. He found you in the deepest part of the cave, face hidden behind your knees, unmoving.
You were sleeping.
He set the food down, bending down to try and confirm his observation, only for a remorse to hit him like a truckload after he saw the semi dried tear tracks. He didn’t have to be that mean to you. Maybe his dragon subjects can handle it because they have thicker skin, naturally, and they’re used to him. But you were just thrust into his life today and he’d been laying it thick on you. He’s coming to terms with his attraction to you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.
He nudged your shoulder, not wanting to test his voice right now, afraid it might be too gentle.
You stirred awake, your face relaxed and serene as you blinked blearily.
“Hm?” You rubbed your eyes, looking at your surroundings with confusion. Your eyes were red.
He wondered how much you cried.
He mumbled something unintelligible, you turned your gaze to him, the sleepiness now almost all gone.
“What? I can’t hear you.” Your tone was sharp and cutting, and your gaze, now devoid of all confusion, was similarly icy.
“‘didn’t mean to make ya’ cry.” You nearly believed him, nearly.
“What’s this? Another act to make me lower my guard? Well you don’t need to, I’m at your mercy. You can skip the pleasantries and just laugh at how pathetic I am.”
He stared at the floor, well, *glared*.
“You’re not pathetic.” He simply said, glaring at you in a way that dared you to challenge him”-and I’m not going to laugh at you.”
He could speculate about his feelings all day, drown in this euphoria of infatuation, hate you for making him weak but one thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to hate him. He wants your eyes to look at him in wonder again, to admire him and fill him with endless pride, to maybe smile at him, he hasn’t seen you smile yet but he bets it’ll be gorgeous.
It’s only because he wants his treasure to be in optimum condition, nothing more, nothing less.
“Then why do you go out of your way to demean me?” You questioned accusingly.
“I don’t, that’s just how I am, you’re going to have to accept it because you’re not going anywhere.” Dread filled you, knowing your days would be filled with humiliation, mocking words echoing in your head like an endless loop.
You stayed silent, accepting your fate because what else could you do? At least you got your greatest companion to keep away the loneliness; water. He once again waited for a response that never came, and he stood up with a sigh, stretching his limbs.
“Just eat your food. I guarantee you’ll like it.”
He said, hanging his cape around him once again, reminding you just who he is, making it flutter behind him as he left you all alone.
He was back early the next day, he found you asleep inside the pool, your head resting on your folded hands on the ledge. The sight had his worry spike so much that a vein was visible on his forehead. He woke you up and scolded you.
And then he proceeds to lay food in front of you, climbing up to sit on top of his hoard to watch you while you eat, not minding the fact that his gaze was sealed on you for minutes, nor the fact that at some point you scolded him for making you uncomfortable.
You didn’t like the glint in his eyes.
In the afternoon he was back with blankets, pillows and other gifts, hoping to sooth the raging waves of your ire. Trying to convince you that he isn’t that bad.
After a while, his daily visits, gifts…reluctant kindness was all you knew. You were starting to let the memories of your home slip, you were accepting the fact that the previous bonds you forged were inevitably breaking. You were accepting the fact that you’re now stuck in a cave as glorified treasure.
And it showed, the sadness on your face would linger, numbness in your tone. Even the water was suffocating.
“CAN YOU STOP ACTING SOULLESS?” And Bakugou eventually couldn’t take it anymore.
You turned to him, no longer was there a fire raging in your eyes. He’s losing the girl he met in his throne room on a fateful day. He no longer cares whether he has to bare his raw feelings to you, the intimidate, gushy, soft, mushy feelings he feels every time he sees you. He wants to hold you everyday, not like you’re an exotic treasure, *but his* treasure. He wants you have his hatchlings with you, and he wants to see you smile at him.
“Why should I?” You replied with dullness, not particularly moved.
“Because…” he looked constipated, his lips clamped together while his cheeks were dusted a cherry red.
“Because?” You didn’t get it. You’re just like a piece of jewelry right? Why does it matter if you become quiet and compliant?
“Because I love you.” He said softly, too softly for someone who looks as rugged and rough as him. Now that broke your composure. Your eyes widened, surprise painting your features as the dragon king Bakugou Katsuki just confessed to you. The greatest soldier in the land, the most terrifying shifter.
He cupped your cheeks, softly stroking the skin, appreciating the soft texture against his scarred hand. His face was so red, even his ears but he was smiling. He was smiling so hard that you wondered whether this was the same person. “I love you, I want you to be happy.” He said, now louder, prouder and more confident in his honeyed words.
You slapped his hand away.
“I don’t believe you.” You cruelly stomped on his confession, making his smile fall.
“But why? Have I not treated you well? I’ve never cared about someone as much as you”
“Prove you love me.” You challenged, staring him in the eye before adding.
“I’m pretty sure you can’t though.”
You turned around and walked away from him, but he decided that wasn’t the end of the conversation and he grabbed your wrist.
“How?!” Frustration was evident in his voice, but so was desperation. He was genuine about wanting to prove his love to you, what would people think if they saw the great dragon king behaving like this over a woman?
You ripped yourself from his hold and spat “figure it out.”
He came back at the dead of night, grunting, laughing and calling your name. You stirred from slumber, eyes fluttering open and peaking out from the blanket you cocooned yourself in. Yoy felt a hand brushing the hair away from your face, lips pressing to your forehead before the fog cleared away to reveal a bloodied Bakugou.
You screamed, scrambling to move away from him, but he held you back, keeping your supine form in place. With his arms on either side of you, not only holding your arms in place but also supporting his weight above you as he stared down at you like some sort of predator.
He laughed heartily, and if he wasn’t drenched in blood you’d find it kind of cute.
“What? Ya’ scared of a little blood? That’s cute.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, asking shakily whose blood it is.
His eyebrows rose, humming at your question before a cocky smirk took over.
“You’ll see. This will show you for sure that I love your bratty ass.” He got off you, walking towards the entrance of the cave, dragging a lifeless figure with him before discarding it carelessly in front of you.
It was the chief of water nymphs. Her old and withered frame looked pale and lifeless, yet brutal gashes littered her body.
“She was the one who sent you here, right?”
You wordlessly nodded, eyes glued to the corpse in front of you.
“I couldn’t set you free, ‘cuz I loved you, I won’t stand to have you around. But she hurt you a lot didn’t she? If she didn’t send you here as simply a peace offering, I would have found my way to you eventually and fell in love with you anyway. I don’t keep you because you’re another treasure on my hoard.” Despite the flaw in his justifications, his manic ramblings and his lovesick eyes, you weren’t repulsed, you weren’t mourning the death of the monster who sent you as a peace offering for objecting to her new rules.
No. Maybe you’re as fucked up as he is, but in a moment of pettiness, you turned to him and smiled.
You weren’t sure whether the redness on his cheeks were blood or a blush. But his eyes were looking at you like you were a miracle, a shining star, it’s like he had heart for eyes but who can blame him? Who can blame the wild thumping of his heart, that’s hammering against his ribcage like a woodpecker does to a tree? He finally got to see you smile.
“Do you believe me now?” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes looking misty, glistening like the ruby on your neck.
“I do, Katsuki.” You replied, letting your eyes hold his own as you also moved closer to him, cupping his cheek, hand tangling in his surprisingly soft hair.
He was mesmerised, breath lost at your soft touch. The only physical contact he’s had before was when he was out in the field slaughtering enemies, hurting, grabbing. Not being caressed, because that’s soft and he’s never done soft until he met you.
You pecked him softly, lovingly. But you soon moved towards his ear, whispering carelessly.
“You know this could cause war with the forest creatures, right? You broke a centuries long treaty.”
He growled, giving you a bloodied grin. “Whatever those shitty extras throw at me, I can handle it. They wouldn’t pick a fight with me if they are smart.”
You squeezed his bicep, marvelling at how hard it was, he’s not infamous for nothing.
Is that all it takes to win you over?
You looked down at the chief, or ex-chief. You could still remember her cold, cruel grin as she saddled you up, to make an example out of you. No one questions her rule, no one has the right to, even if she endangers them, even if she takes the land that they always freely enjoyed.
Yeah, maybe that’s enough, you believed him. Or maybe you’re picking your own poison.
#bnha#bnha scenarios#bakugou katsuki#bakugo#bakugou x reader#yandere bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#yandere bakugou#yandere katsuki#yandere bakugou katsuki#yandere bnha#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#bnha fanfiction
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Pretty Things Don’t Need To Think
Kuroo decides he's had enough of his smart, independent girlfriend. He wants her to be his good little housewife instead.
Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader
Contains: 18+ oh boy... dubcon, big dick kuroo, dumbifciation, misogyny, manhandling, oral sex (deepthroating), pee in vee sex, degradation, manipulation, pwp, breath play, mouth spitting, creampie, thigh riding, slapping, spit, porn watching, crybaby reader but kuroo is a meanie so :3
Word count: 4.6k
Notes: my first time writing smut n it’s mindlessly self-indulgent i just had this weirdly specific fantasy that i need to get out byeee
Kuroo loved the fact that you were smart. He loved the fact that you could debate and argue with him for hours on the most obscure topics. He love that you were always interested in his nerdy rambles and he found it adorable that you would sometimes go off on your own nerdy rambles. When he met you, he was so used to fucking brainless bimbos that he was surprised to find a girl that he both wanted to sleep with and have a conversation with. Your intellect was one of the many reasons he wanted to pursue a relationship with you beyond sex. One of the many reasons why he planned on marrying you.
Kuroo also loathed the fact that you were smart. Not loathed exactly. He just hated your stupid fucking degree. He hated the fact that it demanded so much of your time and energy that you sometimes had to put your studies before him. You wanted to be doctor, always wanted to apparently. You wanted it so bad he felt a little ashamed for how much it annoyed him.
But he didn’t understand it. You were going to be the wife of Kuroo Tetsurou, President of the Japan Volleyball Association. Is that not enough of an achievement?
You didn’t seem to think so.
Now Kuroo’s not a misogynist by any means. If he were, he wouldn’t even let you get this stupid degree. He doesn’t want you to be some mindless Stepford Wife who only cooks and cleans and says “Yes, dear” “No, dear.” Of course he believes in equal rights and all that bullshit but he just doesn’t see any reason for you to work. Financially, there’s no need. More importantly, as his wife you would be too busy taking care of him, his home and his children for you to even thinking about having a job. He would let you get this degree purely for you to soothe your own ego, so you could feel like you’ve accomplished something.
And this is the fucking thanks he gets.
Coming home every day to see you hunched over the dining room table, 4 different textbooks open, papers scattered everywhere. He works hard every day to make a comfortable life for the two of you but asking to come home to a clean apartment and dinner on the stove is too much to ask apparently.
You don’t even register that he’s in the room until he places two large warm hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump, quickly soothed with a kiss to the top of your head.
“Hi baby” he mutters against your scalp, gently massaging your shoulders.
“Hmm. Hi Tetsurou.” you turn your head to look at him, eyes bloodshot and bleary from staring at your computer all day. “How was your day?”
“Same old.” He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “How’s it going here? Are we winning?” He glances at your notes, Intercranial mass lesions. Subarachnoid Haemorrhage. Spontaneous Intracerebral Haemorrhage. He wonders why you do this to yourself. Pretty things like you shouldn’t have to think.
You groan. “Not at all. This neuro final is gonna kick my ass.”
He chuckles, hands gently massaging your shoulders. “You say that every time and every time you ace it baby.” Instead of asking you where his dinner is, he asks “Have you eaten today? What do you want for dinner?”
“ I’m not hungry Tetsu. You can order whatever you like.” He clenches his jaw in irritation. You can’t even be bothered to give him your full attention for 10 minutes? The man who works so hard so that you can afford to sit at home and study the whole day?
No.
He’ll get your attention one way or another.
“Angel,” he drops his voice an octave or two, leaning down so his mouth is pressed right against the shell of your ear. “How about you take a break yeah? Wanna help you relax.” He starts to kiss your neck. He hears your breath hitch. He’s got you. “You worked so hard today plus I reaaaaally miss you.”
With that he begins to leave wet kisses on your neck, feeling you melt into him. His hands move away from your shoulders, gently groping at your chest.
You suddenly go rigid. “Tetsu, not right now.” He doesn’t want you to know how pissed he is but he can’t help it, he groans in frustration. “I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly “I really need to get through these last 3 chapters.”
“Yeah right. Got it.” He storms off with a huff. He’s furious. Your little studious shtick has been nothing more than an irritation for him. But this is too far. He hasn’t come in a month, since you started prep for finals. You’ve been too busy to take care of him. You suggested porn and he laughed in your face. Why would he jerk off when you have a perfectly good pussy? Don’t be ridiculous.
“Tetsurou don’t be mad please.”
“Not mad baby. Keep studying. That’s important to you right?” He’s not convincing anyone but you don’t have the time or energy to engage.
You let out a heavy sigh before turning back to your laptop, falling back into studying like the whole interaction never happened. It made him even angrier. How you couldn’t care less about him right now.
“Just gonna watch some TV. That okay with you, love?” He says sounding sickly sweet, almost sarcastic. If you notice, you don’t make any mention of it.
“Mmhm. Just keep it down please.” You don’t even bother to fucking look at him.
You don’t wanna pay attention to him? You want him to just jerk off? Fine then, have it your way. Kuroo throws himself down on the couch as he rips off his tie with a little more force than necessary.
This is petty.
He makes quick work of the buttons of his dress shirt.
This is childish.
He quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls his slacks down just far enough to take his soft dick out of his boxers.
This is your fault.
You pushed him to do this.
He takes his phone and uses his internet browser to take him to the first porn site he can think of. He doesn’t really care about the kind of video so “Busty blonde slut gets destroyed” seems like a good a choice as any. He clicks on the video and sets up his phone to mirror on the TV screen. With the volume about as loud as it can go, he presses play.
The loud exaggerated moans and gagging startle you. Your head shoots up and you see your boyfriend, lidded gaze fixed on the flat screen TV in front of him. He’s panting, letting out little moans. You crane your neck to see what he’s watching and you see on the TV a bleach blonde girl with massive tits being an absolute trooper as she gets facefucked relentlessly.
“Kuroo, what the fuck?” God he hates when you call him by his last name mostly because you only do that when you’re really annoyed at him.
“Hm? What is it baby?” Now it’s his turn to not even glance in your direction. He’s too focused on the way the girl on screen’s throat is bulging as the man thrusts into her mouth. Maybe he should watch porn more often.
“What are you doing?” He can hear the irritation building in your voice. He hears the chair scrape along the hardwood floor as you stand up to get a better look at him. He knows you can see exactly what he’s doing now.
He smirks, turning to look at you for just a split second before his attention is back to being on screen. “Watching ah fuck watching TV”. He starts to stroke himself faster now, knowing you’re watching him. He’s a little embarrassed by how turned on he is. Cock already rock hard, his tip bright red and shiny from leaking so much pre-cum.
“Do you have to do… that… here? I can’t concentrate.” You clench your fists and your sides.
Oh you’re pissed. But this isn’t exactly the reaction he wants from. He’ll make it work though.
“Not my problem babe. Shit.” He takes his free hand down to play with his swollen balls and god, if he weren’t so determined to dump this load inside you he might have come right then and there.
“Kuroo!” You shout. He’s still not looking at you. How could he when the girl on the screen is getting absolutely railed. He only hears the sound of your barefeet on the hardwood floor as you storm over to the couch. He’s not sure what your plan was when you decided to come over here, but it doesn’t even matter anymore because the second you’re close enough he yanks you by your wrist and forces you into his lap.
“Tetsu!” You thrash and struggle in his hold but it’s no use. He’s bigger and stronger than you.
He wraps his arm around your neck, pulling you into a chokehold. “Oh I’m Tetsu now?” he laughs bitterly
“Let me go! Please!” You still haven’t given up getting out of this, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
“Shut up. I want you to watch this.” He’s forcing you to look at the screen now. “Look at that yeah? Look at how she’s taking that big cock.”
A hard palm strikes you across your cheek. “Stop squirming and watch.”
The blonde woman is bent over a coffee table while the man behind her rams his dick into her without abandon. Kuroo can’t decide if he finds her whining hot or annoying.
“Looks like it feels good huh babe?” His head is buried in the crook of your neck. “Wanna make you feel good like that.” He places a quick kiss to your temple before pulling your t-shirt over your head, your bare chest now exposed to the cool air.
“Tetsu please.”
“Please what baby?”
Please let me go.
But the way he’s hands are gripping at your breasts, pulling and twisting your nipples, you can’t form any words. Only whimpers.
“Please make you feel good? That what you want baby?” He whispers as he slots his thigh between your legs.
“Yeah yeah please Tetsu.”
Kuroo has turned his focus onto your neck. Harsh sucks, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake. He wants to laugh at how pathetic you are. Just a few minutes ago, you were adamant on ignoring his presence and now you’re writhing in his lap begging you to touch him.
“Really? I thought you needed to study.”
“No no no Tetsu, only need you.” Just a quickie. You’re both pent up. 10… 15 minutes tops. Then you’ll go back to studying. That’s what you tell yourself.
“That’s right baby.” He grips your hips and grinds you down on to his thigh. “I know exactly what you need.” You take your cue from him and begin riding his thigh, neurology notes long forgotten as he goes back to assaulting your neck. The combination of the sensation of your clothed clit rubbing against his thigh and visual stimulation of the explicit content on your TV makes you dizzy with pleasure.
Your movements become frantic. You’re practically humping his leg at this point. He knows you’re close which is why he wraps one arm around your torso, pulling you back into his chest.
“Baby please.” You whine. Oh, you’re really crying now.
“Oh angel, you were gonna come just from that? Just from humping my thigh and watching some other bitch get eaten out? My angel must be so pent up huh?”
You can’t do anything except whimper and nod.
“Mmhm yeah my baby has been working too hard. Thinking too much. You’re too cute for that you know baby.”
You keep nodding, no idea what you’re actually agreeing to, too busy keening at the praise. You keep trying to move your hips but he just tightens his hold.
“It’s okay though baby I know how to take care of you. Your man knows how to turn off that little brain of yours.”
His hand slides into you shorts, fingers pressing on to your clit over the top of your soaked panties. The moan you let out might rival the porn star on screen, who now by the way, is riding the face of her co-star while she sucks his cock.
He slips his other hand into your panties and starts rubbing quick “Yeah that’s it. Feel good babe?” You melt into his chest. “Yes Tetsu! So good!”
Kuroo pushes his long middle finger into your dripping hole. So tight and warm, he has to bite back a moan of his own. A few slow pumps, before he lets his index finger enter you as well. He’s done going slow now, he starts fucking you with his fingers, thumb brushing over your clit every now and then.
You were so close before, it takes almost no effort on Kuroo’s part to get you there again. You throw your head back on to his shoulder, muscles tensing in anticipation of your impending release. “Tets- gonna cum, gonna cu-“ The second you feel the waves of your orgasm crash on to you, Kuroo has his hands off you entirely, reaching for the remote and turning off the explicit movie.
Ruined. He ruined your orgasm.
You open your eyes and you see Kuroo looking every bit the smug bastard and your own teary eyed reflection in the black screen. “Tetsurou… Why? Why would you-“ You can’t even get the sentence out before he delivers a harsh smack to your clit.
“You think you deserve to come?” A large hand wraps tight around your throat as he lets out a humourless laugh. “You’re stupider than I thought.”
“No Tetsu ‘m not stupid” You manage to rasp out but that just makes him squeeze even tighter.
“What was that? I thought I heard a stupid bitch say something.”
You claw at his had trying to get air into your lungs but Kuroo doesn’t budge.
“Please! Sorry! Please!” is all you can manage to get out. Just as you start to see spots, Kuroo lets go.
Airways burning, you sputter out a “thank you” but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care. “You’re sorry? Show me how fucking sorry you are.” He’s shoves you on to the floor unceremoniously.
While Kuroo removes his slacks and boxers, you try to compose yourself. You know what’s coming but first you need to stop coughing and stop crying. After a minute of deep breathing, you open your eyes and find yourself face to face with Kuroo’s monster cock.
And you’re not exaggerating. The thing is terrifying. Long and girthy, the biggest you’ve ever seen. He’s unbelievably hard with bulging veins, the tip almost purple with arousal. You’re mesmerised by it.
Perhaps the only thing scarier than his dick right now is the man attached to it. He’s staring down at you with so much condescension, small smirk playing on his lips. He wraps his hand around his thick base. “You good princess? Get to it.” He tuts.
You place one of your hands on his throbbing member as you tentatively stick out your tongue to lick at his tip where pre-cum is dribbling out. You slowly start to stroke him up and down as you swirl your tongue around the head. Kuroo is being kind, letting you go slow. If you think he’s doing this for your benefit, you’re mistaken. He wants to take his time with this. More importantly, he’s got about a month’s worth of cum stored up in his balls and he wants to make sure that every single drop goes inside your little cunt.
You take what you can fit (just less than half) into your mouth, lips stretched wide around his dick, the head is poking at the back of your throat while your hands work the rest of his shaft. You look up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. He can tell by the way you’re looking at him you want him to know how sorry you are.
It’s cute.
He grabs you by your hair and pulls you off of him. ”Aw baby, that’s it? I thought you were sorry.”
A mixture of saliva and pre-cum dribbles down your chin. “Tetsu I am sorry. I’m so sorry!” You whimper.
“Yeah?” Kuroo whispers. His grip on your hair tightens as he tilts your head up to look at him. You stare up at your boyfriend, as he bends down to kiss you. Again, it’s surprisingly gentle but is quickly contrasted with the way he uses the other hand to grab your face, squeezing harshly to make you pucker your lips and keep your mouth open.
He smiles down at you, almost lovingly before he puckers his lips as well, letting a fat glob of spit drop from his mouth into yours.
It’s gross. It’s degrading. It’s cruel.
And that’s why you swallow it down almost immediately, without being asked.
“Good girl” He whispers and gives you a kiss on the nose as a reward. The simple praise shoots straight to your pussy and now you’re greedy for more.
Kuroo leans back and assumes his previous position but this time flexing his elbows and putting his hands behind his head. He’s still wearing his dress shirt, unbuttoned so you can admire his delicious torso. Toned and tanned with the trail of dark hair running all the way to his groin. He looks completely relaxed with his eyes closed and for a moment you find yourself enamored by how stunning he is. How stunning your man is. You want to please him now more than ever. You want him to call you his good girl again. You steady yourself on your knees and prepare for the task at hand
You start off with a few shallow bobs on his cock. Then you take a deep breath through your nose before taking as much of him in your throat as you can. “Holy shit.” He breathes out. His hips thrust up reflexively while you try to suppress your own reflex, trying to keep him has deep as possible for as long as possible. You’ve had lots of practice deepthroating your boyfriend’s dick but somehow it hasn’t gotten any easier.
You pull off of him but not completely, just enough to open up your airway to let much needed air into your burning lungs. You twist your hands around the exposed part of him. You look up at him and he’s giving you that fond smile again and it makes your heart swell in your chest. It’s all the motivation you need to take him back into your throat. Again you take him as far as you can but there’s still a good inch or so that you can’t take no matter how hard you try.
“Aw baby you need some help?” Kuroo coos from above you. You look up at him with big watery eyes and nod as best you can with his dick lodged in your oesophagus. He lets out a hum. “Anything for my baby.” He places one of his large hands on the back of your head and pushes you down until your nose meets his pelvis.
Your throat muscles are spasming around the impossibly large, impossibly deep intrusion but Kuroo keeps you there, seemingly reveling in your gags. Your drool dribbles from your lips, down his balls on to the black leather of the couch. You try breathing through your nose but you struggle. However, your discomfort is completely eclipsed by Kuroo’s moans and grunts. If it makes him feel good you’ll keep him in there as long as he wants. You’ll let him thrust into your mouth until he comes if he so choses.
Lucky for you, that’s not what he wants tonight.
You pulls you off his dick by once again but slowly this time. He watches the string of drool that connects your lips and drags you away until it snaps. He take his heavy shaft and slaps it against your right cheek. You let out a gasp and a smirk starts to play on his lips. Before you know it he’s smacking and dragging his cock all over your face, covering you in a mixture of your saliva and his pre-cum. “God damn. Prettiest fuckin’ girl in the world right here on her knees for me.” He says as he leans back to admire his handiwork. “Open” he says. You obey without hesitation and he spits in your mouth again.
You swallow eagerly. “Thank you Tetsuro.” Your throat feels raw but you smile at him, absolutely giddy, nonetheless.
“Get up here, pretty girl.” Kuroo helps you to your feet and shimmy out of your bottoms before guiding you on to his lap so you’re straddling him. Immediately two of his fingers are inside you again, your slick cunt offering no resistance whatsoever. “You know angel, I’m still not sure how sorry you actually are.” He’s scissoring his fingers, stretching out your walls. If he were a different man, he’d thrust into you right now without any prep but he sees how fucked out you already are, there’s no need to punish you any further. His fingers move at a tortuous pace, squelching as he thrusts them in and out of you.
You’re panting. “Anything, I’ll do anything.”
The slow drag of his fingers grazing that spot inside you as he pulls out makes your eyes flutter shut. When you open them again, Kuroo is holding the same fingers in front of your face. Your boyfriend keeps is hazel eyes locked on yours as he sticks out his tongue to lick up the arousal soaking his digits.
“Hmm ‘course you will.” He slaps his fat cockhead on your sensitive clit making you squeal.
He drags his tip from your clit to your dripping slit over and over again getting it nice and wet.
You chant “Tetsu please” like some twisted prayer. You desperately want to make up for your earlier ruined orgasm.
“Wanna see you bounce on my cock, angel.”
You oblige him wordlessly, taking hold of his shaft and lining in him up with your entrance. You slowly lower yourself on to him wincing at the way he stretches you out. The prep was minimal and his fingers are no match for the size of his cock. You have to stop to breathe and blink away tears. You lift up your hips and lower yourself down slowly again, taking a little more of him inside you. You repeat the process a couple more times.
As much as watching your struggle to take his cock strokes his ego, Kuroo is growing bored. It’s time to take matters into his own hands.
Kuroo grips your hips and takes you by surprise as he thrusts up into you, making you take the whole thing. You let out a shrill cry as the tip of his cock nudges at your cervix. A heavy smack lands on your ass. “I said bounce angel.”
“So big Tetsu fuck. So big.” You whine as he pulls you up, before he sheaths his dick fully inside you, making you shriek for a second time.
God you could be such a crybaby sometimes. You were starting to piss him off again. He pulls out of you completely and says “Turn around.”
“Tetsu no please! Wanna see you.” You pout, your eyes welling up with tears.
Another smack. This time across your face. You reach up to touch the sore skin on your cheek, it feels hot. “Don’t talk back to me you stupid slut.”
You whimper but obey his command. You don’t want Kuroo to be angry at you.
“Now sit on it.” He spanks you another time before gripping your ass and guiding his cock into you until your ass meets his groin.
Playtime is over.
Kuroo slips his hands under your thighs, grabbing the back of your knees and folding your body in half. Now he’s really fucking you. His thrusts are rough, cock knocking against your cervix repeatedly as he sinks himself into your sopping cunt over and over again. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass and the squelching of your dripping pussy make for the lewdest symphony you’ve ever heard.
“Tetsurou ‘m close. Please” you cry. The way his dick is rubbing against your sweet spot means you won’t last long.
“No.”
Despite his denial, he doesn’t ease up on his thrusts. You’re trying to concentrate on holding back your orgasm but honestly you can’t concentrate on anything except Kuroo pistoning his fat cock in and out of you.
“Look at you.” You see your reflection in the black TV screen. “You see that?” He gives one particularly hard thrust to emphasise his point. “Fucked stupid huh?”
“Yeah Tetsu Yeah.” It’s no mirror but you can see all that you need to. You see your boyfriend using your body like a fleshlight, thrusting up into you at a relentless pace. You see your cunt split open on his cock. You see yourself being completely and utterly owned by him.
“My girl is such a fucking whore huh? My own personal porn star.”
“Need to cum nnggh let me cum please.” You’re teetering so close to the edge and Kuroo’s filthy mouth is not helping your situation in the slightest.
“Why should I let you cum hm? You’re so good when you’re desperate. Think I should keep you like this.”
“Please Tetsu. Please. Wanna be good! Wanna be your good girl Testu! Wanna take care of you! Please.”
He likes the way that sounds.
His good girl. His wife. His. His. His.
“Cum for me angel. Cum. Right now.” He says, lips pressed against your ear.
He doesn’t need to tell you twice. With the way he’s pounding his dick into your tight little pussy you have no choice but to spiral into orgasm. Your pussy spasms around his cock, pulling him deeper inside you. The hot coil in your tummy that’s been building unravels and the bliss hits you so hard you see starts. Kuroo keeps fucking up into you as you cream around him. As you come down, you go limp in his arms. That doesn’t stop him from using you though.
His grip around your thighs tightens and that’s how you know he’s getting close. “You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna take this fat fucking load? Yeah? Take all of it deep in your cunt?” He growls right into your ear.
“Tetsu gimme pleasepleaseplease” You beg him as you cry from overstimulation, barely able to form the words.
“Take it. Take it. Fuck!” He growls as he shoots his load right into your tight, gooey pussy. You feel his hot cum fill up your womb and the sensation is so overwhelming it makes you go cross-eyed, tongue lolling out of your mouth. He grunts, still rutting into you through his orgasm. When he’s done he pulls out of you, smiling as he watches his cum leak out of your spent hole.
Kuroo loves the fact that you’re smart. But when you’re like this? Absolutely cum drunk, eyes glazed, body covered in bruises and willing to do anything he asks you to? He fucking adores you like this.
“Go take care of dinner princess, then your man is gonna take care of you some more.” He swats you on your ass.
You giggle and let your wobbly legs carry you to the kitchen with your boyfriend’s cum running down between your thighs, thoughts of your upcoming final completely fucked out of your head.
Along with every other thought not revolving around your future husband.
Kuroo reaches for his phone to text his assistant and tell her to cancel all his meetings for tomorrow. He has to go ring shopping.
#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#hq x you#haikyu x reader#kuroo x you#kuroo imagine#kuroo smut#kuroo tetsuro x reader#hq smut#dark fic#tw dubcon#tw dumbification#tw breath play#tw manipulation#tw manhandling#tw degradation#tw slapping#tw spitting
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Closer
Neil x F!Reader
Summary: Plot what plot.
Warnings: 18+ (and I really mean it this time), they're both trying to dominate and I've no clue what's going on.
Author's Notes: Suppose this is what happens when an image won't leave you alone and you crave a self-indulgent one-shot... I don't even know, but this took remains of my sanity. Challenged myself with more graphic and this is what we ended up with.
Thank you Shet for reassurance through writing this and not having enough of my whining.
Feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you'll enjoy!
It is always the same. That brilliant idea to go for lunch and do a round of sightseeing in the afternoon because surely it wouldn’t be too bad. Right?
Well, whoever thought of that was owed an excruciating death in the fires of Hell. Or Orcus, as would be more appropriate for the current location. Who knew the Italian coast transforms into the Death Valley over summer? Sighing with exasperation, you waited not so patiently as Neil slipped the key card into the door and opened the room with a typical flourish. Feeling the constant trickle of sweat down your back, you pushed him inside unceremoniously and let the door close with a thud. As the cold air enveloped your body with the sweetest of embraces, you could not hold back a pleased groan.
“Fuck” the curse not enough to express the internal pain “Jesus fucking Christ, I hate this heat,” accentuating the meaning you aggressively lowered the aircon temperature to 18C “Did I mention that temps above 25 Celsius should be made illegal?” remembering about Neil’s presence, you glared at him.
It was his shit idea in the first place. And you were never letting that one go. He was staring at you with amusement glimmering in the blue eyes. Another reason to punch him in the teeth. Or something.
“More or less twenty times within the last hour, why?” answering your question, he opened the minibar and took out a bottle of water.
Nonchalantly perching on the desk, he took a longer sip, still watching you with curiosity. No remorse whatsoever over the tortures he put you through. Annoying.
But not more so than the sweat still running down your skin, making the fabric stick to your body in places you never deemed possible. When leaving the hotel three hours ago, the linen shirt sounded like a good idea. Now, with half of it drenched, you were sure nudity was the only viable option to go outside. Groaning with frustration, you tugged at the garment, grimacing at the feel of the damp fabric.
“God, everything just feels… wet” uttering the word with loathing, you added, “Like soaking wet,”
That got Neil’s attention. He glanced up with the lips slightly parted, one eyebrow raised.
“Everything?” a quick scan of your body, swallowing hard as though the suggestion triggered thirst that no water could quench.
Uh-huh. The irritation too high to give in just yet. Instead, you allowed yourself to sweep your gaze over his form leisurely. The only sign that he too was bothered by the heat was the glistening forehead and flushed cheeks. The usually fluffy mane tamed, strands sticking to the temples. Still devilishly handsome. With the long legs crossed and the blue polo shirt perfectly bringing out the colour of his eyes, he looked godly. Unfair. Prompted by that thought, you closed the distance and snatched the chilled water bottle out of his hand:
“It’s not like you’d get it, though. Even soaked in sweat you look like a bloody… male Aphrodite” throwing in the slight, you quickly downed the rest of the water.
Another look at your boyfriend was enough to assure you the metaphor worked. Neil was gaping at you, utterly puzzled, and then slowly looked down as if to check himself out. You snickered when he lifted the edge of the shirt and touched his abdomen with a dream-like expression. Fondly: idiot.
“Is that an insult or a compliment? Because I admit I lost you there” shaking off the stupor, he met your watchful gaze with a frown.
It was difficult to stay mad for much longer. And so…
“Whichever one you want,” shrugging, you unzipped the skirt, letting it fall to the ground, “I need a shower. ASAP”
Without waiting for Neil to respond, you started taking off the shirt. With a disgusted sound, you threw it next to the skirt and positioned yourself underneath the AC. Still too many clothes. The noise of plastic bottle hitting the bin and then:
“Whoa…” the playful tone making you look up straight into the mischievous sparks in Neil’s eyes, “That’s giving me all sorts of ideas” he eyed you slowly, gaze taking in your body clad only in underwear.
Not that it was anything new. And usually, you would play along with pleasure, curious about where it might lead you this time. Now, however, that fire of annoyance burning bright still needed tending. And shower sounded much better than whatever Neil might offer.
With a huff, you reached to unclasp the bra and let it join the carnage in the hallway. One look at his hungry expression was enough to prompt an idea. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek and, without leaving time to react, pressed the bathroom handle:
“I won’t lock the door” an off-hand remark rather than an invitation.
But you knew it would work. It always did.
Once inside, thanks to the striptease you indulged in, all that was left was to take off the panties and step into the shower. You turned on the rain head and sighed with happiness when the chilly water cooled off your body. That is what bliss felt like. You closed your eyes, contented enough to stand under the running water. Grounding yourself in the feeling of your palm pressed firmly to the tiled wall. A smug smirk spreading on your lips when, finally, you heard the bathroom door open and close. So predictable.
You kept your back turned to the entrance to the shower, eyes closed if only to keep up the act of mild irritation. Not so mild, in fact, but enough not to give Neil satisfaction by throwing yourself in his arms. He would have to work a little to get something out of it.
At first, a tentative touch running up your spine in the familiar expression of his presence. Enough to trigger the light flicker of passion. With the cold water, it was easy to pretend the goosebumps were not his accomplishment. Encouraged by your stillness, Neil took a step, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. A traitorous gasp swallowed with effort. You heard him chuckle lowly while slowly caressing your body. A puff of warmer air against the side of your neck:
“Ever since I saw you in that sundress, I wanted to do this,” Neil whispered the confession with confidence.
Lips grazing over the shell of your ear, alighting the nerve endings with precision. You knew which dress he meant. The clothing choice from a day earlier, haunting with an accompanying pride. Good to know.
“What exactly?” feigning nonchalance, you kept your hands pressed against the wall and the glass window.
For now, it was easy to ignore the need slowly pooling in your lower stomach. You wanted to keep on playing the game a little longer. To see how far he was willing to go.
Neil tightened the grip, winding both of his arms around your waist. No space left between you.
“Pull you flush against me,” the explanation complemented with a brave sweep of hand over your stomach “Feel your skin and curves under my fingertips” instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, the desire building up steady “Feel the way you shiver whenever I touch you like this” his fingers teasingly running up and down your navel.
The assumption was enough to give back that spark of annoyance. A fight to keep up the role a little longer. Struggling with the overwhelming breathlessness, you whispered back the question:
“Aren’t you giving yourself too much credit?” you reached behind you to run a ghostly touch over his hipbone.
Feeling the skin and the relishing in the shallow gasp. In retaliation, Neil let his hands venture higher, cupping your breasts and circling the nipples. Fuck. At that move, there was no way of stopping the shudder running through your body.
“Am I?” you heard the amusement in his voice, palms executing death perfectly.
Nothing left to do but sigh and press up against him in search of fulfilment. But the teasing was far from finished. You felt his lips experimentally glide over the nape of your neck, collecting the water droplets and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Searching for support, you firmly placed your hand on his hip, gasping at the feel of him pressing into your backside. The hardness never failing to cause a rush of excitement flowing through your body. As though sensing your growing arousal, Neil continued the teasing in a low, soft tone:
“I wanted to kiss down your neck, graze my teeth over your perfect skin” making his words come true, he trailed kisses down the nape of your neck.
A sigh each time he lightly bit your shoulder, a groan with every single butterfly touch along your shoulder blades. Carefully tiptoeing the line between animalistic passion and tender caress that seemed to define your relationship. Only this time, with anger still fresh on your mind, you began getting impatient, suddenly eager for him to speed it up. To give you something more substantial.
Using the strike of courage, you reached your hand further back, curious fingers dancing over him in the mildest of provocations. To give him a sign that patience was running thin. It worked for Neil let out a strangled groan and stopped the careful study of your neck with a painful hickey over the pulse point. That was bound to leave a deep red mark. He did not give you time to react, pulling you somehow even closer and delving the hand between your legs with ease:
“To slip my fingers between your thighs and feel how wet you are because of me,” the sentence murmured with an unmistakable tint of want hazing his mind.
He wasted no time, instantly parting your folds, collecting the arousal, and spreading it to ease whatever was bound to come next. The feeling was familiar yet still clouding your brain with need. Because now even the cold water was not helping the rising temperature. Nothing left to lose. Time to give in and take what he would offer. As he repeated the torturous move, barely touching your clit or putting pressure on the throbbing parts, you decided to take matters into your hands.
“And?” using the question as a distraction to encircle his wrist.
And raise the offensive hand to your lips. Licking his fingers clean before the water could. A sharp gasp told you it worked. Using the momentum, you turned around in his embrace and met the shocked, darkened gaze with a smirk of your own. Neil glanced at your lips as though tempted to collect the remains of your taste from them and locked his eyes with yours:
“Get down on my knees and have a taste of my favourite drug,” a murderous glint within the blue depths.
Knowing well enough how much you enjoyed that. How often you would ask for it.
Your thighs clenched on their own accord, anticipation heightening the senses. To find a brief relief, you rose on your toes and crashed your mouth into his, knowing Neil would meet you halfway. The tumultuous kiss filled with chaos, hunger, and need, betraying the love underscoring every other adjective befitting your connection. The tongues easily slipping in, curling around each other, seeking the ultimate pleasure.
“What’s stopping you?” after a long snog, you broke the contact and panted out, resting your forehead against his.
Allowing yourself a second of gentleness. Admiring the affectionate look in Neil’s eyes, you slowly caressed his body. Returning the previous torments with your dose of playfulness. Letting him remember that you were not the only one that was so ready. That the attraction was mutual, and you knew that very well. Explorative touches down his length, enjoying the way he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying to find the lost thread. After a beat, he met your gaze once again. The darkness startling.
“Nothing” using a second of hesitation, Neil took your courageous hand in his and searched your face, “Only… say please” the satisfied smirk added the wicked gleam to his face.
You considered scoffing and pushing him out to keep the pride intact. But… with the core practically dripping with the need for a release, that had to be forgotten. Clenching your jaw to stop the shame from springing up, you uttered the word with apprehension:
“… Please,” making sure to show him the extent of annoyance.
A retaliation already forming in your mind. Revenge would be sweet.
“Good girl” thought processes cut short with the two words.
Oh fuck. Simple, yet more effective than anything else. A jolt of want passing through your body as Neil tipped your chin, arrogantly pleased with himself. He could read you like a book, knowing well what praise would do. This time there was no holding back. No shame or reluctance.
“You fucking-” spitting out the words with annoyance, your rant got stopped with a finger pressed firmly against your lips.
“Shush,” the stern tone, shutting you up with yet another wave of arousal.
The steel look in Neil’s eyes only increasing the sensation. It was bound to get interesting. As if drawn by your dark stare, he closed the gap and captured your lips in a heated kiss. The water, running down, slipping in the gap between you, failing to satisfy the craving. Prodded by the sudden flash of need, you let your teeth catch Neil’s lower lip and tugged at it forcefully. A clear signal to stop stalling. Ending the contact with a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, he met your wild gaze with a calculating assessment. You knew the game well, frozen by the multitude of feelings. Not that it would’ve made him speed up. He enjoyed the control too much to give in.
A final searching look, your hand helplessly clinging to the gaps between the tiles.
“The louder, the better, you know that” brushing his nose over your ear, he whispered the command huskily.
Another reason to hold on tight. A flare-up of anger within your chest, mixing with the increasing frustration.
“I hate you,” you got as far as seething out the sentence before the voice died in your throat.
Neil grinned and lightly pushed you at the wall to give himself the needed space. Without wasting a moment, he started leaving kisses down your body. Gentle pecks on the shoulders, softening the previous damage. Tongue swirling around your nipples, causing a whimper to escape through your parted lips. Your free hand instinctively latched onto his head, finding an anchor in the wet blonde strands. Slowly, Neil inched his way down, kneeling at your feet, hands running up your thighs, creating sparks in their wake.
“Let’s see how long that holds true” he looked up, nothing but a smug smile and dark, hungry eyes.
Fucked. Terrifyingly so.
There was no time to react as he left a trail of kisses up your thighs, getting closer yet taking his time. And then, something you would never get tired of. The first, experimental kitten lick along your slit, parting the folds and spreading the arousal. As if that was needed. Lapping up everything you were offering and making you tighten the grip over his hair. Shocks passing through your body upon every single touch of his tongue. As you yanked on his mane with force, letting out a string of curses, Neil raised his head. Your eyes were drawn to the glistening lips which he licked clean with an unhidden expression of delight.
“God, how I love this taste,” the compliment aimed with lethal precision, satisfaction lighting up his eyes.
Only to pick up the action the very next second. Temperature constantly rising, no mercy given. It only got worse when Neil added his skilful hand to the mix. Stroking the clit, eliciting moans and gasps. Your eyes screw shut, focusing on the way it felt when his finger entered you and started curling inside in search of that sweet spot.
“Jesus fuck” the profanity escaping when he added the second digit, all the while letting his tongue circle the sensitive bud.
Chuckle vibrating through your core, the unoccupied hand contradicting the moment with tender strokes along your hip. As if to soothe and support.
The haze, getting heavier, overcasting everything with the tint of need. For a release. For that high, the explosion of pleasure you were slowly edging. The scales tipped with two fingers curling inside you, hitting the most sacred of places, and Neil’s lips sucking on the clit without moderation. Taking everything with eagerness and delectation.
With the heat almost unbearable and the edges of your vision darkening, you could only pull at his hair with force and rasp out:
“Neil, I can’t-” the intent lost in the outburst of pleasure.
Every nerve, existing to receive what Neil was offering. Every cell, burning with ecstasy. You could feel the incoming wave, ready to succumb to it without a fight. Until he raised his head once more, feeling your muscles clench around his fingers, everything synced up perfectly.
“Come… on. For me,” the emphasis not escaping your overflooded mind, gaze meeting his helplessly, “Don’t be shy” a whisper, darkness tinting the vowels.
The feeling of defeat, adding a dose of shame into the whirlwind, fuelling the ideas of vengeance.
But there was no time to concentrate when Neil finished the act with the third finger easing in. Tipping you off the edge with a piercing cry and a desperate tug on his hair. The strength of the pull making him groan loudly, tongue collecting the arousal with frantic moves. Pleasure flooding your vision. Nothing but the water, Neil, and his body, solid beneath your shaking hands.
Your knees buckled, the force of the aftershocks ripping through your system. Feeling the high course through the veins, you shut your eyes and let out quiet whimpers, unable to process the reality. Sex with Neil was always memorable, but it has never been this intense. Especially only for an entrée.
Feeling your body relax, Neil retracted the hand and placed a final kiss on your clit with saintly reverence. You opened your eyes in time to see him look up, the dark blue irises rimmed with long dark eyelashes. Adoration. Want. Weak from the strength of that release, your legs wobbled as you tried to change position. Foot slipped on the slick tiles, and you already anticipated the fall when an arm wound around your waist, pulling you upright. Startled, you barely comprehended when he got up and saved you, making use of the smooth moves and long limbs.
“Got you,” a whisper against your temple as Neil hugged you close, cradling your body with care, “Always” his gaze met yours, tenderness overshadowing every other feeling.
On reflex, you mirrored his soft smile in an expression of gratitude. For much more than saving your ass from the bruises. Despite the maelstrom of emotions, you gave in to the gentle moment and returned the embrace, pressing your cheek against his chest. Listening to the fast, familiar heartbeat, you whispered:
“You nearly killed me just now,” the breathless tint only giving evidence to the statement.
It’s not like he wouldn’t know. With screams like those, he had to. Neil chuckled, one of his hands venturing up to cradle your head, the other tracing shapes onto your back. Water flowing down with the steady stream, enveloping your embraced bodies in comfortable warmth.
“That wasn’t the intention,” he murmured, nuzzling the top of your head.
You could hear the pleased tone there, indicating what you suspected. Following the playful thread, you leaned back enough to meet his gaze and asked:
“What was it then?” a hand running through his hair, watching the strands darken when wet.
At the roots, his natural light brown colour was beginning to show, adding a surprising edge to his startling physique. For you, that meant another evening soon spent sat on the edge of the toilet seat, laughing at his attempts at dying the hair on his own. Those were fun moments.
Catching your absent gaze, Neil tipped your chin to bring you back to the present and then grinned:
“To show you how much I adore you,” the simple answer laid with a soft kiss on your lips, signing off the sentiment.
You opened your mouth to let his tongue in instantly, breathing in the air he was willing to share and relishing in the familiarity of the moves. Lips slowly gliding over each other, tongues caressing and teasing. This one was filled with tenderness, an expression of love and devotion rather than hunger. A breather.
Not for long. Using the kiss as a distraction, you switched the positions, making sure Neil would have his back pressed against the wall. For convenience’s sake. Breaking the contact, you whispered the single-worded response:
“Mutually,” unable to wipe the devilish smirk from your face, you waited for a beat to let him catch up.
Those widening eyes were a perfect cue to grin with satisfaction at the perfectly executed setup for the payback. Neil stared back at you with confusion deepening on his face, slowly taking in the reality. Finally, a single word, a prelude to the mountain of questions:
“What-” his brow furrowed, giving you the needed moment to step in.
“Vengeance,” you winked, and wasting no time, lowered onto your knees, “Let me just… now that’s a wonderful view” shifting into the most comfortable position, you gave him a long admiring look from the new vantage point.
It really was. Never failing to make you that tiny bit more eager and hungrier since the first time. Especially when knowing what he is capable of.
The flood of specific memories flushing up your cheeks and giving needed courage to begin. You glanced up, searching for consent, and met Neil’s hazed stare. He seemed transfixed as if already well under your spell, one of his hands mirroring your desperate move from minutes prior, clinging to the tiles in search of support. You raised an eyebrow in the silent question. Yes?
Please. The fervent nod accompanied by the way he swallowed hard was all you waited for.
Never breaking eye contact, you licked your lips thoroughly, all the while using your hands to stroke him lightly. Enough to elicit a gasp. Emboldened by the reaction, you opened your mouth, letting out a warm puff of air to tease him. Neil groaned, the free hand reaching out to cup your cheek with tenderness you did not anticipate. As if distracting himself, he brushed away the damp strands of hair sticking to your face and brushed the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. Gratitude. A signal to start.
A few kitten licks along the length, letting him get used to the sensation. Sharp exhales, muscles tensing. Upping the game, you started focusing on specific areas, using the sound cues and the way his hand tightened the hold over the nape of your neck. Now and then, you would look up to see the darkened pupils and lips parted in the purest expression of pleasure. The furrowed brow and the clouded gaze, telling you when the right time was to bring his tip into your mouth. Gently swirling your tongue around the head, savouring the taste with quiet hums. Stroking the shaft with one hand, you used the other to rake your fingernails over his abdomen. Returning the markings he inflicted earlier.
The string of curses leaving his lips amongst the moans and groans was a good indication that it worked. Noticing the hint of impatience in how he quivered, hips thrusting on an impulse, you slowly inched your mouth down his length, enveloping him as far as you could without it becoming uncomfortable. The answering loud moan told you it was exactly what he needed. Meeting his dark stare, you nodded, permitting him to start moving his hips. The adoration meeting desire in his eyes as Neil sped up. Adjusting to the pace he needed, you started sucking on him. Cheeks hollowed, tiniest of moans drawn out to let him know you enjoyed the act, tongue collecting everything he was giving, anticipating the end with a familiar heat pooling between your thighs once again. Because seeing him like this, was more exciting than you deemed possible.
Then his thrusts got sloppier, knuckles of the hand clinging to the gaps in the tiles whitening; groans replacing any other sound. Soon. Suddenly he seemed to sober up a notch, blinking twice as though forcing the brain to work and then rasping out:
“God, I’m going to-” the meaning interrupted by a whimper when you took the opportunity to increase the pressure by a notch.
You could see the ridiculous dilemma flash in the blue eyes as if he worried about something like that. As if he has not just devoured you like the god’s nectar. Certainly, an idiot. Continuing the bold strokes with your hand, you made sure to meet his gaze before echoing the encouragement:
“For me,” a hint of recognition reflected at you, adding the mischievous tint to your smile, “Please,” grinning widely, you quickly put your mouth back to the task.
Intensifying every move to make sure he would be satisfied. It did not take long. Neil moaned out your name breathlessly before he tensed and came with a shudder ripping through his body. The hand cupping your cheek fell onto your shoulder, fingers digging into the flesh with the force of the release. Swallowing every drop of what he gave you with delight, you made sure to show him the extent of satisfaction in your gaze.
Once Neil was done, he leaned heavily on the tiled wall, quick breaths escaping through the parted mouth. Eyes still clouded yet watching you constantly with evident fascination. Licking your lips clean, you accepted the hand he reached out to pull you up. Resting your palm over his racing heart, you leaned in close to whisper:
“Every inch a gentleman, I see” an appreciative glance down, as if he could miss the innuendo.
His eyes flashed, the familiar darkness creeping at the edge of the blissful fatigue. To your advantage, there was still a moment left of this more subdued Neil. Afterwards? Who knows. The spark of excitement lit up in your chest as you closed the gap and took him by surprise with a heated kiss. Pushing him further up against the wall and taking the lead with your tongue instantly prodding him to open. The grip on your laced hands, tightening as Neil started reciprocating the kiss with an equal eagerness. As if you both have been starving for each other. There was never quite enough oxygen to fulfil needs, and so, after few long minutes interrupted with stolen breaths and fleeting pecks, you broke apart, staring at one another with awe. Neil’s eyes wandered over your face with almost dream-like enchantment written all over.
“Wow,” he breathed out the word with a small smile creeping on the edge of his lips.
It was difficult not to grin back, overwhelmed with love for the man. With your heart close to melting from the tenderness and softness, you chose to strike:
“Is that all the praise I’m going to receive?” quirked eyebrow and feigned dismay.
If only to push him where you needed him to be. Because as much as this gentle and affectionate side of your relationship was everything you could have asked for, currently, you needed more. More than this. Using the palm pressed firmly against his chest, you trailed your fingers south, watching with satisfaction at the tiniest of twitches, betraying the hidden desire, confirming the assumptions. As if slowly waking up from the daze, Neil caught your curious fingers in his and raised your hand to lay a kiss on your knuckles. The playful glimmer already there.
“I’m afraid you stole my breath away. Again” a shrug with an apologetic tint to the tone.
As a contradiction to the meekness acted out, he let go of your hand and wound his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Pressing your bodies against each other, every curve and edge fitting like two pieces of a puzzle. Like two halves of a whole. You glanced up at him, trying to judge the current mood, finding nothing but beauty. The wet hair, sticking to the forehead, water dripping down the slope of his nose and onto the bruised lower lip. Up this close, he looked as if he belonged in Michelangelo’s workshop, fine features chiselled with precision. Ocean blue eyes framed with long and dark eyelashes drawing you in, the longer you kept on staring. Mouth curled up in a soft smile as if even the sight of your lovesick gaze was something he wanted to commit to memory.
With a sight like that, there was only one thing you could do. Feeling the need pulse in your veins, you reached out to turn off the water. It was time to act. Neil looked at you questioningly as if willing to follow the tempo you were about to set. Biting down on your lip, you met his gaze with poise.
“Good. Because that was rather… enjoyable” lowering down your voice, you noticed how his eyes widened; using the tricks learned from Neil himself, your hand ventured down once again “I love how you taste. The way you shiver as I make you come apart” as your fingers danced along his length, he gasped, a shudder running through his body “Sculpted by the gods yet falling into pieces at my command” whispering out the punchline, you gently stroked him to elicit a groan.
A satisfying response. Feeling courage surge through your chest, you smirked, observing as he seemed to absorb your words slowly. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing with effort. The pupils widened, darkening the irises and bringing out the predatory flicker. Mission accomplished. Once again, his hand darted out, stopping your teasing with fingers encircling the wrist tightly.
“You’re asking for trouble,” the husky voice sending shivers down your spine.
You met his gaze, noticing the evident change. It was bound to get interesting. Once you tasted the power, it was hard to give it back. Stepping out of the embrace, you noticed:
“Am I? I thought we’re done here” without waiting for him, you made a move to exit the shower.
Knowing he would follow. You made it as far as grabbing the towel hanging on the hook and wrapping it over your body before his strong arms encircled around you from behind. Pulling you against his chest, just as it all began. Then, a whisper with lips brushing over your ear:
“We’re far from done” oh.
Good. You barely had time to react when Neil lifted you, bridal style, and opened the bathroom door with a kick. Bewildered, you looked at him with curiosity, relishing in the way he cradled you. Possessiveness and care making your head spin with the implications. However, you barely had the time to think of the right question when he stopped abruptly by the long desk lining one side of the room and set you down on the counter. Oh. Consciously adjusting the towel covering your body, you risked a glance at Neil. The blue eyes clouded with need; pupils dilated. The taxing gaze, sweeping over your figure like a predator measuring up the prey. Stunned into silence by the sudden tension, you mirrored his look and allowed yourself a self-indulgent stare, appreciating what the universe gave you in the form of your boyfriend. And his godly body, as you have more than once noticed. Finally, Neil took a step closer. You watched in fascination as his fingers danced along your collarbones and over the skin on your shoulders, taking additional time to brush the fingertips over the forming bruises on your neck. The distant look, telling you it was an open admiration of his work. A shiver ran up your spine, the anticipation of whatever might happen almost stifling.
“All that talk made me a little hungry” the remark made you look up, straight into the marvellous blue eyes.
Confirming the words, Neil slowly licked his lips, hand toying with the end of your towel tucked in to keep it fixed. With heart racing in your chest, you made sure to throw a suggestive glance at his body before asking:
“Only a little?” the dose of provocative tone to make sure he would be within your control.
Because the level of arousal on his side was startling. Impressive, too.Your mouth watered at the sight, thighs clenching tighter together to somehow ease the ache pulsing between your legs. At once, you wanted him to ditch the games and take you this moment, and to wait, to extend the fascinating duel of passion.
Neil gave you no time to consider which one was more tempting, for he used your moment of reverie to tug at the towel to unravel it in one move.
“A lot” the answer perfecting the move with precision.
Fuck. Next thing you knew, you were sat on the towel, naked once more with no way of hiding from him and his look of starvation. Neil closed the remaining gap, blocking your escape and caging you between his arms, palms resting on either side. One last long look as if judging the best course of action before he parted your knees by inserting a leg between your thighs. A hand delving in the newly opened space, drawing out a sigh from your lips as you stared in complete fascination, frozen with the thrill of curiosity and need running through your veins. The pulsating core dripping with desire for him, shame missing from the equation when Neil finally gave in to the pull and slipped a finger between your folds. You knew how bad it was from the single look at his face. The determination slipping for a split second to give way to surprise, a short gasp soon replaced with the smirk worthy of the Lucifer himself. The daring finger parting your inner lips in a teasing move before he raised the hand to his lips, never taking the gaze of you:
“You’re still soaking wet for me,” a remark thrown with something close to mockery.
A flash of anger burning in your chest; mouth opening to prepare a retort. Only to freeze once more when Neil grinned, the hand glistening with the signs of your disgrace licked clean, mirroring your brave actions from not that long ago. Double fuck. A groan, interrupting the train of thought, that spark of irritation helping you to gain back the momentum. A look down his body offering the needed cue:
“Says you” raising one eyebrow, you reached out to repeat the lazy strokes from before.
The deepening darkness in his eyes luring you in, tempting you to push him further than ever before. If only to find out what he is like without any restraints. Without care or apprehension. Only the animalistic lust and craving left. Noticing the familiar hungry glow, you increased the intensity of your moves, smile widening when he let out a frustrated growl and slapped your hands away. In a flash, Neil wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your bodies flush against each other.
“Careful, or I might-” his voice lowered to a whisper, the husky tone reverberating through your chest.
It was the unspoken threat and the way it felt when he pressed against your navel that made you take up the initiative. Leaning back enough to catch his eye, you interrupted the sentence:
“What?” a challenging smirk to irk him further; your legs wrapped around his waist “Destroy me. Fuck me senseless” completing the request by rubbing over him openly, showing the extent of need “Wrap that hand around my neck and take what’s yours” the addition breathed out with the scarlet tint on your cheeks.
Neil let out a whine as you pressed up against him, lacing your hands on the nape of his neck to get better leverage. He hesitated for a split second, hips already responding to your teasing with fleeting twitches. Somehow you knew what was missing. Leaning back, you tilted his chin to lock the gazes. Depths of lust enveloping your mirroring looks.
“Please,” the word dropped in between your lips, separated by a breath of space.
The trigger.
You could barely perceive his actions. The bottom lip caught between his teeth, a forceful thrust eliciting a sharp cry from your throat. Gentleness was left behind as he filled you up in one single move, stretching out your walls and making you gasp. Searching for something to hold on to, you grasped the edges of the desk, helpless gaze locked on his dark eyes without a break. Neil slightly shifted, one hand travelling up your chest to wrap loosely around your neck. Exactly as you asked. The other palm, pulling you closer around the waist, finding the needed grip. A shudder coursing through your body, the core clenching around him in the most basic of reflexes. An irked sigh escaping through your lips was all he needed to begin.
No kissing or hesitation, just the rough rhythm, delving deep into your centre with each thrust, hitting the perfect spot without tenderness. Each move complemented by your moan, pleasure flooding in, making you forget about everything that was not Neil. His gaze was fixed on you, watching with visible fascination how his tip disappeared between your folds with every thrust. The chokehold, tightening a little, increasing the frenzy, and hazing your mind with need. Only once you got used to the set tempo could you shift the position, placing your hands on his biceps. Digging in the nails to show how well that was working. Increasing the intensity of his moves, Neil groaned, his hand tightened over your neck. A clear signal to let you know who is in control. Obedience. Only, you were not that keen on compliance.
With sweat trailing down your body and your arousal wetting the conveniently placed towel, you decided to reach out for more. An assessing look, taking in Neil’s widened pupils and the startling resolve painted on his face. The clenched jaw, highlighting the sharp angles. Split lip from how he bit into it, drawing out blood. Unable to take your gaze off from his mouth, you used the second of hesitation to get closer and crash your lips into his in a hard kiss. Neil gasped, surprised by the shift, opening his mouth underneath your prodding tongue in an instant. Syncing up the way your lips glided over each other with his thrusts, you used the opportunity to gain back the lead. Meeting him halfway, relishing in the groans he let out against your mouth. And then, grabbing a fistful of his blonde locks, still damp from the shower, and leaning in to whisper into his ear:
“Harder,” the word dropped with certainty.
A further act of temptation. To see what Neil would be capable of if you drove him to the edge.
You did not have to wait long to find out. Tightening the chokehold, he sped up the movements, delving into you with a force that was ripping cries from your lips. The lascivious sounds filled the room, moans, and gasps interrupting the tempo. Soon it was nothing but the eruption of pleasure every time he hit the spot, making you rake your fingernails over his shoulder blades, deepening the marks and bruises. Using the grip you had over his shoulders, you changed the angle, bringing your pelvises together with every thrust. That seemed to be what Neil needed. He groaned, hand shifting from its position on your neck to grasp your chin and force you to lock the gazes. The feral look in his eyes, making you clench your muscles around him, giving in to the waves of feelings coursing through your body. It was that perfect balance between tempting darkness and astonishing want that you found reflected that was the final push you both needed.
Neil’s tempo waned, shuddered breaths coming out through the parted lips, watching you closely as if the ecstasy written all over your face was a drug he could not get enough of. A string of curses replacing the silence with their harsh simplicity. The grip over your waist tightening, fingers digging into your skin, bruises confirming the facts. His. Just as he tensed, moaning your name with the desperate tint to the tone, you captured his lips in a kiss. Hoping to take the edge off, to give him what he needs. Neil responded by biting hard into your lower lip, pleasure exploding before your closed eyes as he came, a shudder running through his body. Cradling you closer, breaking through the roughness and betraying the underlying feelings. Love, want, need.
It was the sensation of having him come inside you and the harsh kiss that did it. You whimpered, his name and love confessions on the tip of your tongue, spilling out in the silence. Hiding face in his neck, you stiffened, the force of the orgasm ripping through the fracture of reality. Nothing but the overwhelming euphoria, darkness underneath your eyelids dotted with stars. Neil’s skin underneath the shaking hands. His warmth enveloping you in the gilded cage of safety. Completeness. As you came to, riding out the high with your face pressed against the crook of his neck, you heard his soothing voice whispering sweet nothings, nuzzling your head. The tender ‘I got you’ and ‘I love you’ filling the quiet moment with reminders about your perfect reality. With a sigh, you slowly unravelled from the embrace; arms still wound around his body to prolong the touch. As your gazes met, the previous darkness was nowhere to be found, replaced with a soft smile and affection pouring out of his blue eyes. Cupping your cheek, Neil whispered the question:
“Alright?” he searched your face as though worried something could be amiss.
Fighting with the breathlessness, you chose to give him a grin first before responding:
“Yeah,” trailing your fingers down his chest, relishing in the peaceful moment, “Christ… You should fuck me like this more often,” the straightforwardness getting out without a hitch.
After what just happened, it was no big surprise. Neil did not seem shocked either his eyes glimmered playfully, as he traced the outline of your lips with the tip of his finger:
“Your wish is my command, darling,” the low murmur complimented with hand tilting your chin upwards to capture your lips in a kiss.
A slow and gentle one, softening the bruises and cuts, eliciting a contented sigh from your throat. Afterwards, you rested your forehead against his for a split second, soaking in the feelings. After a beat, you finally leaned back, acknowledging the mess on the hotel room floor covered with your clothes. The bathroom door was left ajar with the ventilation running. The towel you sat on, ruined. Wet hair trailing droplets down your naked body, mixing with the layer of sweat. A frown invited itself onto your face.
“I need another shower though… and a nap” yawning, you pushed Neil back to jump off the desk.
Only once you could properly stand, the fatigue caught up, making you sway on your feet. Without a word, Neil reached out a hand to steady you, pulling you into his side for an additional hug. Nothing to complain about even if you wanted.
“I should get you hot and bothered more often” it was the casual remark that made you look up.
Straight into the suspiciously satisfied face of your boyfriend. Surely not… right?
“… was that the plan all along?” schooling your features, you chose to ask the simplest of questions.
Neil shrugged, the trademark smirk gracing his features.
Bastard. Stepping away from him, you snatched the towel and hastily wrapped it around your body. If only as a retaliation. Because dragging you out to wander in the bloody scorching sun was a low blow. …even if it just gave you one of the best sex experiences in your life. Maybe. Perhaps.
“I hate you,” you hissed before storming over the pile of clothes to the bathroom.
“Uh-huh,” you refused to give him the pleasure of turning around at the sound.
Bastard. Squared.
#tenet#neil tenet#neil x reader#neil tenet x reader#neil tenet fanfic#neil tenet imagine#tenet fanfic#robert pattinson
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Suicidal Misunderstanding XIII
Part I - - - - - - Part II - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XI - - - - - - Part XII
Star Wars Time Travel AU #27
Cody waited impatiently in the entrance room to the hall of healing, ignoring the surprising number of Jedi who drifted by aimlessly.
As far as he could tell they were coming in just to stare at him, make meaningless small chat with the tight lipped receptionist, glance around, approach as if almost to talk with him, then drift out again without having accomplished anything.
Embarrassingly, it took him several minutes to realize why they were behaving so oddly. In his defense, a) he didn’t have much of a baseline for Jedi behavior in temple.
And b) when numerous vod had approached him today to try and find out ‘why the General had missed last night’s conference,’ and ‘why Cody had been unreachable for large chunks of time, that was seriously unlike him,’ and ‘why had Cody gone to the Jedi Temple and stayed there for hours upon hours yesterday morning,’ and ‘why haven’t you taken your bucket off today,’ and ‘why has no one gotten a comm reply from General Kenobi since Ghost Company went drinking,’ and ‘why isn’t Skywalker answering comms,’ and ‘why do the Jedi seem so riled up today,’ and ‘why are you and Rex so tense,’ and, ‘are you going to the temple now,’ and ‘what the kriff happened to my desk,’ well.
They just asked directly.
He had grown so inured to unfamiliar Jedi silently willing him to answer their own jedi-variations on ‘What the fuck is going on with Obi-Wan’ that he almost didn’t notice when Windu came to stand next to him.
“Here as a visitor?” He asked the Master stiffly. He was almost feeling wound-up enough to fight for his place in line.
“No, I’m waiting to speak with Skywalker,” he replied, temporarily placating the Commander.
An unfamiliar Jedi Cadet with a short braid on the side of their head walked in, attempting to look casual and failing miserably. The small furred padawan stared nervously at Cody and Mace, and actually managed to open their mouth. Windu raised a brow. They immediately snapped their jaw shut, bowed, and scurried out.
Cody watched through the window as they joined a group of even tinier Jedi. After a brief conversation with lots of waving limbs from all parties, the group turned in unison to make eye contact with Cody’s visor. Cody inclined his head slightly. They all ran off, practically tripping over their robes.
“Wasn’t sure if the eyebrow would work,” Mace muttered. “It’s been 50/50 today.”
“I’ve just been hiding whenever I can,” Cody confessed.
Mace winced. “My apologies for the delay in putting out a statement. We’re still trying to work out - an adequate substitute. At least for the upcoming campaign.”
Cody nodded, “I assumed as much."
“I assure you, we’ve taken your thoughts into consideration. You’ll receive a notice of the Council’s final decision before we send out a mass bulletin.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Fortunately, finally, Anakin stomped into the atrium, followed closely behind by the Nautolan soul healer.
“Ah, Knight Skywalker, do you have a moment? I’d like to have a word with you.”
Anakin startled at Mace’s words, but recovered quickly when he noticed the slow moving crowd just outside the door. “Of course, Master Windu,” he said with a bow.
“Commander Cody, would you care to follow me?” Aerdo said with a smile.
Cody and Anakin exchanged grim nods as they passed one another, following the Masters in opposite directions.
- - - - -
- - - - -
“The situation in the expansion region is deteriorating rapidly. We had already intended to send the 212th to moderate the situation after Umbara’s latest declaration. But increasing separatist activity in the sector means that we cannot afford to delay or under-commit. The hyperlanes are being taken, and with them, republic control over crucial supply lines is now threatened. We must deploy the third system army, the day after tomorrow at the very latest. They’re our best equipped force for the situation, not to mention the only uncommitted division large enough to make a meaningful impact. There is no viable alternative.”
Anakin nodded at Mace uncertainly. He had been keeping up with troop movements before everything, and, trying to keep himself sane, had even checked the news in between cutting off the Chancellor and visiting Obi-Wan only to find him unresponsive again. But...why exactly was the Master of the Order telling him this?
“You’re not seriously thinking of sending Obi-Wan? I mean even if he miraculously wakes up tomorrow...”
Master Windu sighed. “No, of course not. Which is why I’ve asked you here.”
“You...can’t be asking me to lead them?” Anakin asked, feeling lightheaded.
“I admit, the council did consider it. You are the one of our most successful Generals. Not to mention the one most familiar with Obi-Wan’s troops. Between the fact that the 501st is also needed on Umbara and every other Jedi’s unwillingness to step in to the position, your name came up multiple times.” Mace pinched the bridge of his nose while Anakin stared uncertainly.
“No, I have not brought you here for a promotion. I want to speak with you about your opinions on candidates for the 212th...as well as to ask if you believe yourself capable of leading the 501st without...losing yourself. I’ve finished reviewing your civilian casualties and consider your observed losses- tolerable, at least.”
Windu looked exhausted at having to say that out-loud and Anakin fidgeted, biting his tongue.
“As long as you are under the supervision of another Master, and if you swear to me on Obi-Wan’s life that you will report yourself if you find yourself slipping- I leave the command of the 501st up to you.”
Anakin felt queasy. How could he help Obi-Wan if he was half a galaxy away, on what sounded like a long, protracted campaign. If he refused to go, that would leave both the 501st and the the 212th without their generals. Or...was this how he could help? Carry one of his burdens for him? He was more than ready to lead! Probably! He had been leading! Part of him longed to charge into battle immediately- wash off his helplessness with blood. Anakin didn’t know how to fix Obi-Wan mind, but he was good at fighting, good at war.
And that thought brought back the ever-lingering cold. How could he trust himself? His...violence... it might have driven Obi-Wan to suicide. He still didn’t know! And if he left he wouldn’t know for months! He promised Obi-Wan not to kill again- how the kark was he supposed to do that while being a General?! Did ordering people to kill count, or was that worse?
“I need to think about the 501st ,” Anakin whispered.
Master Windu nodded. “I appreciate that. You have until dawn tomorrow to decide- in the mean time, let’s discuss the 212th.”
“Who’s the top choice?”
“Master Pong Krell. He’s actually our only choice that wouldn’t require reorganizing other assignments significantly.”
“He’s...a good duelist.” Anakin said, trying to think about what he knew of the Besalisk, “What division does he command?”
Windu grimaced. “That’s actually why he’s the best choice... Of the troops he’s had direct command over since the start of the war, over 85% are dead. He’s never lost a battle but...”
Anakin closed his eyes, “Right.”
Plenty of excellent fighters among the Jedi made terrible generals. He’d have to look over the Besalisk’s military record- it could just be terrible luck. Plo Koon had lost an entire division to the Malevolence, but he still was one of the best.
“When you say he’s the only choice...”
“Most Masters I’ve breached the subject with were extremely reluctant at the thought- I don’t want to force anyone into a position beyond what they’re willing to handle.”
“I guess that makes sense...but it seems...off?” Anakin trying to articulate his uneasiness.
“Our method of ‘promotion’ has a tendency to elevate those who should perhaps not be taking on more responsibilities.” Mace acknowledged grimly.
“Because... good Jedi aren’t really ok with war. And you’re only promoting Generals who are fine with the whole thing?” he said thinking of himself. “Or can’t say no?” he added bitterly, thinking of Obi-Wan.
“It’s not an ideal situation” Mace agreed, lines around his eyes growing.
Anakin scrubbed a hand to his face. He had been doing more thinking about the ‘concept’ of war and violence in the last two days than he had the last two years of actual fighting. There hadn’t been much point before, war was happening regardless of his feelings. Not to mention the fact that there wasn’t time to quibble over these sorts of things in the field. As much as he was desperate not to disappoint Obi-Wan again, he didn’t really enjoying being forced to consider this stuff now. It made him...itchy.
“Have you considered just putting Cody in charge of everything?” Anakin finally asked.
“Of course, but the Senate would never approve...”
- - - - -
- - - - -
- - - - -
“...With those few exceptions, the only major thing left to restock is perishables. But that’s more your department than mine, sir.”
Cody finished his report.
Obi-Wan continued to lay still, looking frail in the large medi-bed. The restraints made the image that much worse.
“Fuck.”
Cody swore and, for the first time since crawling out of bed that morning, yanked off his helmet.
“General. General Kenobi. Obi-Wan can you hear me.” he said hoarsely, leaning over the bed.
The General didn’t move.
“Obi-Wan if you can hear me- try and shift around a little bit. Blink. Do anything. It’s me- Commander Cody. I- please, sir. Just do anything, they said you- you did this on purpose so please confirm you’re in there. I’m- shipping off soon and, I- I just need to know that you’re going to be ok. Please. Anything.”
Cody hovered absolutely motionless, watching for any sign of response. But Obi-Wan continued as he had been, lifeless but for his slow and steady breaths.
Cody collapsed to his knees, vision spotty. Gasping for air, he rested his head on the side of the bed, desperately trying to pull himself together.
After several long moments he pulled of a glove, tentatively reaching for Obi-Wan’s hand. It felt cold.
“General, if this is some sort of- dark force attack twitch your hand, ok? Please. We’re trying to understand- we’re here for you, just clench your hand if you’re under attack and someone will come to help.”
Cody paced his breaths to Obi-Wan’s, pulse slowing down to match the wrist in his grasp.
“Obi-Wan, why are you doing this? I don’t understand.” Cody rasped.
“You- you told me I was one of your best friends. You- I don’t know why you think so highly of me but please you have to know I think the universe of you. We all do, but I really do. You don’t have to fight anymore if you don’t want to, we’ll protect you, you know that. You have to know that. But I can’t- I can’t imagine the rest of the war without knowing you’re alright somewhere.”
Cody pressed Obi-Wan’s hand to his forehead, choking back a sob.
“You said you had a ‘last mission.‘ I don’t know what that means. You’ve talked about after the war- I don’t get why your life has to end with a mission. I'm not sure if I understood anything you said, but I’m right here and I would never hurt you. I don’t know what you saw but I would die first, ok? I want you to know that I would gladly die before hurting you so- so you don’t have to worry about whatever vision you had. Just wake up and tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it.”
Cody sat on the floor, clinging to Obi-Wan’s hand and continuing to breathe.
Eventually, the door clicked open behind him.
“Commander Cody? I’m terribly sorry but it’s been an hour...” Healer Aerdo’s voice came trickling in.
“I understand- is there time for me to say goodbye?” Cody rasped, not looking back.
“Of course.”
The door clicked shut and Cody stood jerkily.
“Goodbye, General Kenobi. Obi-Wan. I’ll take care of the men for you while you’re- resting. Please, I know I say this a lot but take care of yourself, ok?”
Cody pressed Obi-Wan’s hand to his forehead one last time before reverently resting it on the bed. Pulling his helmet on roughly, he turned sharply and marched out the door.
Obi-Wan remained determinedly still.
Next: XIV
#star wars#my au#suicidal misunderstanding au#star wars au no 27#potentially triggering#suicide discussed#self-harm referenced#starwars#made myself cry a little whoops#fanfiction#codywan#star wars fanfiction#angst#pong krell is his own warning
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Things You Said When it was Over
Somewhere else, anger, a truce, and fight, and a happy ending
cw Jon's typical level of wanting to die but not actually wanting to die, fighting, mentions of vomit but no vomit, mentions of stabbing, mentions of stitches, losing time
Spoilers for 200
Let me know if you enjoyed! Stop back in a week for another fic. I am accepting Things You Said prompt list prompts for Jon, Martin, and/or Tim! I have two prompts in my inbox and both have been back written, but if you are wondering if I have ignored your prompt, chances are I have not!
Being unwound hurts. Unwound. Rewritten. Removed. Pulled and crumpled and twisted and extracted. Spun in with a web of tapes.
Masses of crinkling magnetic strips. Unsure where voice, and web, and body, and blood intersect.
Woven and ripped through that careful crevasse.
And it hurts. Much more than being stabbed. With that awful scratch and skittering of strands being eaten by an eager, hungry machine.
As time and entities and two people are chewed through and eaten with all the care of a faulty cassette player.
It’s a shriek of static, the thrumming whine of machinery wound wrong. The deafening scrabble of unknowable and terrible things going Elsewhere. Loud enough that the explosion doesn’t even register. Just a background whine to the overpowering white noise of the end of the world moving.
And Jon wakes up.
With a gasp. Small. And so painfully normal. Like his POTS flaring up and waking up in the break room. Again.
That hasn’t happened since the world ended. Since things went wrong.
A strange thing to reminisce about. POTS isn’t something he thought he’d miss. And… well… he doesn’t? Didn’t? Doesn’t know the tense to use because there was that slim, slim chance that everything is actually okay. The smallest, most fragile idea that things are back to that idyllic normal of the safehouse.
He doesn't move for a while. Focusing on breathing. It's cold. He isn't sure if the air is cold or if he's experiencing cold himself, or if this is just a new way of feeling pain. He can't tell.
His chest hurts, but he can't make himself check for blood. Moving is still a little too beyond him.
He wants to open his eyes, and look for Martin, but he doesn't want this to go away. Because if he's alive, then Martin must be too, right? Martin was much more likely to survive this. Not being... you know, stabbed?
But what if only Jon is somewhere else? What if this is somewhere Martin couldn't follow?
In that case, Jon would rather not be alive at all. If he doomed all the other universes because he couldn't go through with it in the end... if he gave it all up for Martin... he can't live with that. He can't. More than not wanting to, he just... Can't.
Then again everything is... kind of numb so he can't actually be sure that Martin isn't there... but he is never that lucky. Jon never gets the privilege of the best case scenario.
Breathing still hurts. But he doesn’t think it hurts in the “breathing around a knife” sort of way. Then again, after bearing witness to the pain of Everyone on the planet, a single wound is hardly a drop in that ocean with all the other pain just Gone.
“Jon! Jon! Can you hear me?”
He cracks his eyes open, and is met with the safe house ceiling. Eyes struggling to focus, trying to find the source of the voice that certainly sounds like Martin, but Jon is too sore to move. The force of it hitting him out of nowhere, without him even trying to lift a finger. Senses filling the void of 7 billion people screaming with the voices of scars and joints and exhaustion and hunger.
The best response he can manage is a wheezy groan.
Wheezy?
Does he need his inhaler again? Did Martin pack that even? He hasn’t needed it… since… the world ended.
Everything’s blurry. Where did his glasses go?
“Oh thank Christ!”
Jon makes to sit up, but stars burst in his vision, and his arms give out.
Martin’s hands fluttering around him. Flying to his chest.
Jon carefully reaches for his chest also. There is a hole in his shirt. Well. A lot of holes, but he’s only looking for one.
He feels tacky blood on its way to drying. And as he carefully probes further, he finds a tidy line of stitches in slightly sticky thread, that he has a sinking suspicion is spider’s silk. A final gift. A thank you. He wants to vomit.
But Martin’s hand catches his, stopping him from potentially hurting himself. Jon stretches his free hand to cup Martin’s cheek. He finds it wet.
It occurs to him that Martin has been crying. Is crying? Jon can’t tell. His face is too far away to see more than the fuzzy outline. (Not that Martin’s face is actually far away, Jon just has shit vision).
Crying, present tense, Jon assesses, when Martin shakes with a suppressed, silenced sob. “How could you do that Jon? Fuck! I mean… I knew you would. But how could you do that? You Lied to me. You could have Died! And I know you didn’t. But Jon, I… I can’t. You Promised me! You Promised! I… How could you make me do that? To you? How could you? I… Jon, how could you?” Martin’s crying too hard to get anything else out, and Jon still hasn’t managed to find enough breath and energy to speak.
Jon whines. Too exhausted to even sign.
Martin’s hand on his chest. Still trying to keep the blood in, even when there is no blood trying to get out anymore. Martin’s usually warm hand icy (Jon hopes with fear, and not the Lonely, but he can’t know. Firstly because he can’t break another promise, Secondly because he doesn’t think he can Know anymore, and thinking about trying makes his stomach drop.)
And Jon just… can’t. He rolls on his side away from Martin. Curling up tightly. Against the angry words and the guilt, and the rest of the guilt, and the pain in his body. He’s doomed infinite worlds. He’s betrayed everyone who ever cared about him… who he ever cared about. He caused so much pain and he sat back and watched. It seared through him the entire time of unknown and uncountable quantity that made up the apocalypse.
All the words that he could never say, the guilt he could never express, all his own fear that had been just as much a meal for his god choking him.
And he braces for the hate and the rest of the yelling, and everything else he deserves. Everything he brought upon himself, one poor choice after another.
Squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself gone and wills that if he doesn’t just vanish out of everything that Martin will get done yelling quick so maybe Jon can grovel some comfort out of him, even if it isn’t forgiveness, it will be better than the aching nothing that has been threatening to overtake him since he tasted the bitter words of the false statement.
Martin more than deserves his anger, but Jon can’t take it. He’s literally held together by spider silk. He’s worn and tired and battered. Guilt plunging deeper than Martin’s knife ever could.
Not that he’s not grateful for this time with Martin. Not that he doesn’t deserve every centimeter of guilt piling up on him. He deserves all the hate. And all the anger.
He’s spineless, and he knows it. He Almost did the right thing, but he couldn’t. And he almost lost everything he cares about. And now he probably still has. And… and what? What now? Martin elected to stay with him despite it all, on one stupid, slim chance that things could be okay, but how can they be okay ever again, with this aching hole of fault and blame and regret and shame pulling at his core. And he wants to be pulled open and rip it out. He wants to enjoy what he has, but he can’t and Martin has every reason to hate him.
He’s lost time.
Martin’s calling his name, and his limbs are stiff and numb from bracing for an impact that never came.
“Jon. Christ. Jon! I’m… I… I didn’t mean to scare you. I… I don’t hate you. I love you, I promise. …I’m… angry. And we need to talk about this. But… but I think that should wait until you’re up for talking, and I’m up for not crying for ya know, more than five minutes at a time. ….And Fuck. I just… well. You owe me a good screaming at, too. And Goddamn it, you were just doing what you thought was right… and you tried to tell us… tell me. I’m not saying you were right, because you weren’t… but I’m not saying you were wrong. And. Well. We’re both here. Please. I’m sorry for yelling. Can I touch you?”
Jon nods jerkily. Because he can’t stand the distance between them. He doesn’t care if touch can get him hurt, he’d take hurt over the space between them.
Martin holds him like he’s precious and Jon cries.
Harder than he has in a very long time.
And when he’s done he’s empty and shaking and filthy.
They shower and sleep. In the morning they can shout at each other for broken promises and wandering off, and not communicating enough, and not listening when the other is trying to communicate. And one leaves in a huff, and one cries himself sick in the bathroom, and there is hugging and a trip to town for tea and figuring out if this is the universe they saved or one of the infinite they doomed. And there are years for the aftershocks of those arguments to bounce around, losing energy in the form of heat: tea, hugs, hot showers, overeager workouts, kisses a little too rough, hugs a little too tight, a strange combination between fierce affection, and things a little too much to make them feel like they are accomplishing something.
And they can grow whole once more.
And they can grow old.
#the magnus archives#tma#tma spoilers#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jonmartin#cw suicidal ideation#sort of#cw fighting
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daddy issues - chapter ix
The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.
When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.
for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
“Can’t believe you invited Ransom Drysdale to come to the bar with us.” I rolled my eyes, already used to Ana’s whining, and turned away from the bar to scoop my surroundings. Still no sign of him. But it was early, and he’d warned me he probably wouldn’t be able to get here until at least 8pm, so really, I shouldn’t be looking for him like some sort of lovesick teenager.
I didn’t even know why I was so eager to see him again.
“He’s the father of my child, what did you expect me to do?” That finally had Ana looking away from her shots to glance at my body, perfectly squeezed in one of my tightest dresses, showing just enough cleavage and legs to make it one of my favorite get-lucky items in my wardrobe.
“You’re right. I keep forgetting the reason he’s in your life is because you’re pregnant. Seriously, I was about to offer you a shot and everything!” I shook my head, chuckling to myself at her ways. “I mean, can you blame me? It’s not like you’ve started showing or anything!”
Well, she had a point there. It was also the reason why 1) I had agreed to come out with her tonight and 2) chose this dress to wear. I had to take advantage of this body while it was still like this. Soon enough, I’d be too heavy to handle high heels or crowded pubs, not to mention the fact that I would most definitely not fit into these already uncomfortably tight outfits.
“I’ll give you that,” I grinned, tapping her hand teasingly, like I was trying to calm her down. “Sometimes I forget it too. What the fuck is he doing here?” I added as a familiar man made his way into the bar, Ana’s head whipping around to look at where I was staring at a blond, well-built guy, grinning widely at me.
“Who’s that?” I was too busy grinding my teeth together as I watched him approach, but as he came closer and closer to where we were standing, I knew it was better to let her know who he was right off the bat, so she could help me try to keep him away.
“Steven fucking Rogers.” Ana’s exclamation of surprise was cut short by his arrival, his stupidly handsome face going from me to her as if he waited for a formal introduction. “What are you doing here, Rogers?” My usual irritation at his presence was intensified by a thousand, and I had no idea why. Even he seemed surprised, if his eyebrows raised high were any indication.
As much as I made sure to avoid him, I’d never had any reason to be outwardly aggressive towards him before.
“Same as you, minus the dress.” He made a show out of undressing me with his eyes, and I rolled mine while fighting off the urge to dry heave. Why do men just assume our choice in clothing has anything to do with what we actually intend to do for the evening?
“You know, for someone who’s a university professor, you can be pretty daft.” Unfortunately for me, my comment only made the man towering over my smaller frame start to laugh. “Excuse me, I’m gonna see if Ransom texted me,” I told Ana, while giving Steve a side-eye as I made my way towards the back of the bar.
There was a door to some sort of patio, and so that’s where I went, breathing in relief at the absence of loud music, as the walls made it pretty muted back here. The nice, cold air of the evening was also a blessing.
I looked at the purse on my shoulder and considered if I actually wanted to reach out to Ransom. It was only half past seven, there was a lot of time for him to get here and absolutely no reason for me to make myself look like a clingy girlfriend. I just needed an excuse to put some distance between Steve and I.
But just as I thought that my mission had been accomplished, the sounds of the bar became louder, indicating someone had opened the door and joined me out here. Lucky as I was, I could imagine who that person might be.
“C’mon, honey…” Steve’s voice had me freezing every single one of my muscles, as I refused to turn around and look at him. “You can’t pretend to be some innocent little thing while you’re wearing a dress like that.”
God, I wish I could puke. It was times like these where my pregnancy sickness didn’t appear and for once, I wanted it to. So maybe then I could paint his pretty face or at the very least, his expensive shoes in a pale yellow color and erase that smug look on his face.
I didn’t even have to look to know it was there.
Ransom’s P.O.V.
“You know, I could get used to seeing your skin this exposed…” I stopped dead on my tracks behind the couple I’d followed into the back exit. I’d looked for her everywhere ever since I arrived, she had to be there or I would start to think she had been playing a prank on me.
But seeing Y/N didn’t bring the relief I was expecting, because there was a man with her. And I didn’t know why the sight made my blood boil, but it did. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and so I stayed back in the shadows, contemplating just turning around and going back to my car, but I wanted to be sure of what was actually going on.
“It makes me think about what you’d look like naked.” I saw her shook her head, back still turned to the man behind her (and to me), but then his hands reached out and captured her waist, and I saw her flinch.
“You look so hot, I want to take you right here in this back alley…”
“Steve, let me go.” At the sound of the disgust in her voice, I sprung into action, barely processing my own feelings or noticing how she was squirming in his hands as I hauled his body from hers.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I asked the guy, chest already heaving from anger. Beside me, Y/N looked scared, obviously startled at seeing me, and especially in this state. But I was too far gone to care.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” If I wasn’t so angry, maybe I would have considered the next words that fell from my lips. But my track record wasn’t the best, even in a calm mindset, so not even I believed I would have been able to hold back.
“I’m her man. She’s mine and she’s having my baby, so how about you back off?” A cold hand wrapped around my wrist had me snapping back into reality, looking down to see her staring at me with wide eyes. Oh, shit.
“What is he on about?” The man yelled, this time directing his words to Y/N, who very patiently turned to look at him and say, “Would you care to shut up?” Finally, seeing as he truly wasn’t going to have a chance with her, he decided to leave, huffing to himself the entire time.
“Y/N…” I started trying to explain myself, but she cut me off with a simple shake of her head.
“Not here, Ransom. Can you drive me home?” I closed my mouth and stared back at her, a feeling of defeat filling my chest before I finally nodded. It was the least I could do, after all.
We walked back into the bar together, and together we went to say goodbye to her friend, to whom she very quickly introduced me to. I could barely find it in me to smile at the woman, too busy beating myself up for my behavior tonight.
The drive back to her place was silent. I was wrecking my brain for what I could say to justify my behavior, but couldn’t find anything. I’d failed. I’d apologized to her only this morning, and now I’d already screwed up again.
Why should she want me around? I wasn’t even capable of being a good friend, much less an actual co-parent with her. How could she rely on me if I kept letting my most immature instincts take over?
I stopped the car in front of her building, still struggling with what to say, but to my surprise, she didn’t make any immediate movements towards leaving. It seemed as if she was lost in her thoughts too, and the idea that I might have the chance to change this gave me just the push I needed to say something.
“I’m sorry,” I spilled out, and her eyes darted up to meet mine, slightly wider than usual. “For overstepping. I-I don’t know what happened. I just saw you with him and you looked scared and I… God, you must hate me right now.”
I had to cover my face so I could concentrate, I could feel a headache coming. But just when all seemed lost, I felt a warm hand over my thigh, squeezing the muscle, calling for my attention.
“It’s alright, Ransom. This is new for me too.” I didn’t know relief could feel this relaxing. Finally finding the courage to look her in the eyes again, I chanced a small smile that she quickly reciprocated, her hand still connecting us.
“I- It was actually really nice to hear your voice when I thought I’d have to scream for help. You did good, you were… you were very good back there. Thank you.” Silence fell between us once again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. For my part, I seemed to have forgotten how to speak. But she didn’t remain quiet for long.
“I just think we have to talk about what you said…” And that was all I needed to jump into explanation mode again.
“I know, I know. I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it, obviously.” And to my surprise, she just smiled, not seeming bothered in the slightest by what I had done earlier that night.
“Believe it or not, I understand. I know I seem quick to jump into conclusions and that hasn’t been a good thing for our relationship so far… but this time I understand where you’re coming from.” It was a good thing that she did, I realized as she let go of my thigh to reach out for my hand instead. Because I had absolutely no idea why I’d said that she was mine. “But we do have to set some boundaries.”
I nodded, despite all of the confusing and conflicting emotions inside of me, starting with the feeling of warmth that appeared to be caused by her holding my hand. “You have to control yourself,” she continued, tone making it clear that she wanted me to give any sort of indication of my understanding of her words.
Deciding to hold back on the comment about how it was impossible, considering just the sight of her made me horny, I opted to go with a more mature, if slightly vulnerable response. “It’s not that easy… I don’t know how to keep those feelings in check. I’ve never felt them before.”
She nodded understandingly, and it didn’t seem patronizing. Before I could further clarify what I meant - or put my foot in my mouth, probably - she filled in the blanks for me. “The feelings of protectiveness.” My mouth opened as I almost let the wrong thing escape, but I reeled it in at the last second.
“Yeah…” I trailed off. “Let’s go with that.” She frowned before her eyes widened in surprise, but then she started laughing, although shaking her head at my antics.
“You’re too much, Ransom Drysdale.” But instead of saying it in a disappointed tone, she just leaned over the console and hugged me, taking me by surprise. I didn’t even have the time to enjoy it, because in seconds she had leaned back and was unbuckling her seatbelt so she could leave.
“Hey,” I called out for her attention, wanting to get one last word in before she left. “You do look extremely hot in that little dress of yours. I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you before.” She narrowed her eyes at my words, but pursed her lips at the same time, like she was trying very hard not to laugh.
“As charming as that is, I think it’s a bit too late for you to try to flirt with me. I’m already carrying your child, aren’t I?” My smile dropped immediately, heart pounding in my chest with fear at her words.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I…” but she cleared all of my worries with a single cheeky wink, making me chuckle in relief as I slumped back against the driver’s seat.
“Thanks. I wanted to take advantage of my body while it’s still like this.” I watched as she gathered her stuff to leave, mind travelling to the future and imagining all of the changes she would go through because of this pregnancy.
I decided not to tell her that just the thought of her larger belly and heavier breasts was enough to get me hard. This version of her body, as hot as it was, wouldn’t be missed by me.
“Oh, hey,” she stopped just before closing the door, biting her lower lip as she pondered over something. “I have a doctor’s appointment scheduled for tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?”
The warm feeling that had appeared when she held my hand spread over my chest as I excitedly grinned at the woman before me, taking notice of the way she smiled back just as eagerly. I couldn’t help but notice there was a little bit of relief in the way she let her breathing escape after my affirmative answer, too.
“Text me the details?” She nodded.
“See you tomorrow, then.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I watched as she got safely inside her building, before finally allowing myself to think back on the events of the night - and particularly, on the way I felt seeing her in that dress, being touched by another man, and talking about the changes she feared she’d see in her body. One thing was perfectly clear to me then: being just friends with the mother of my child would be no easy task.
#my series#ransom drysdale fluff#fluff#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale reader#ransom drysdale reader insert#random drysdale reader inserts#ransom drysdale x you
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Could I ask for your thoughts on Rose and her connections to the other kids? I think that Rose is one character that many people just boil down to "goth alcoholic lesbian" and it bugs me a lot, so I would like to see a different and nuanced analysis on her.
I've gone back and forth in answering this (or rather HOW to answer this) for a long while. I think Rose is one of the most crucial characters for Homestuck as a narrative, and she's incidentally always been one of my favorites. What i mean by this is that explaining rose is hard, in the way that 'summarizing every other HS subplot' is hard. Objectively, I can’t tell you why rose is good, much in the same way i can’t force you to like pineapple on pizza, but i can try to explain why *i* like rose.
So I'll try to start with a statement: Rose is a difficult little girl. She’s not sweet or compliant or naturally inclined to be motherly or comforting or even KIND, broadly speaking. She’s a cynic, a hater, and a proto-intellectual who wants to feel like she has already figured out everything that has to be ‘figured’ about the world. (Spoiler alert, the conclusion is “it sucks. Blow it to bits.”)
The things that upset her the most are the things she doesn’t know or cannot make sense of. Why does her mother act in such erratic ways? Why does she constantly debase herself in shameful displays of negligent rationality and responsibility? Is it all a game to her? Is this how all adults are, messy and unkempt and deranged? (According to Freud, whose’s name is certainly mentioned enough by Fellow Online TruthSeekers Of The Human Psyche to be considered the utmost authority in just about everything there is to know, no questions asked, the response is “i guess?”) What the fuck even happened to her cat, anyway? Anybody got a baseline 101 on mortality? Does anyone know what the fuck is going on, ever? Is humanity fated to an automated cycle of dull incompetence??????
Rose hoards and utilizes even the most esoteric forms of knowledge as her shield, sword, and building blocks against the fog of uncertainty most people describe as ‘reality’. To truly know something is to rob it of its power and make it your own, ensuring you are not only safe, but impervious to any harm it could possibly cause. Her ambition and defiance set her apart even from the other betas, who wanted to follow the rules and invest in teamwork. Where jade is whimsical and vaguely helpful in a informative tutorial pixie-like way, rose’s advice is delivered via sarcastic remarks and looking for cheats by conversing with the devil. She antagonizes the patronizing questline she's been given in favor of ripping SBURB a new one. Rose is firstly concerned with improving herself, and then maybe sort of (kind of, nothing is settled on stone, what happens, happens) pass it onto her own if they REALLY cant figure it out. There’s a sense that she would sacrifice just about anything to granted the ultimate form of knowledge, the appropriate response and middle-finger to anything, and she hungers for it, which proves to be a little self-destructive.
Except as much as she wants to put up a veneer of detached, individualistic intellectualism, she still cares far too much for the simplest human accomplishments. She cares for her friends. She envies the lives they've led, and they sound so intriguing when compared to her sterile routine. Her pet cat was once her biggest companion and source of comfort, and finding him dead crushes her. She legitimately would've liked to have a good relationship with her mom, which as we all know ends up more or less the same way. (I tend to disagree with most people who treat rose's living situation as 'pretty good/dramaticized', having a guardian who's almost never sober isn't a comedic or easy experience.) Her quest is borne out of insecurity, uncertainty, and stubbornly trying to prove herself right. Because somebody has to be.
Her faults are just as interesting to me as her qualities, for all the 'mean goth lesbian' talk the way she misses her mother and tries to reverse-engineer a connection with her beyond the grave by dabbling with the same poisons is incredibly compelling, and speaks to a side of rose's many people take for granted: she doesn't have all the answers. She's improvising. She's, like, 15 years old and trying so hard to come off as a badass but she can barely contain her wondering babble long enough to show up for an important date in time. Even in her self-sabotage rose is earnest.
This isn't the sort of narrative you usually see applied to women in fiction, or even when it IS applied, it is only to admonish their efforts and promptly slot them into a love-interest shaped hole. (Because yeah, rose being a lesbian and not falling for any of the assumed important guys does matter very much actually.) Even her turn to grimdarkness pulls from tropes reserved to epic gritty brooding male heroes- avenging her family, wrecking anything and everything in her path, Frank Castle Punisher style. I like rose because she's like matilda, if matilda went wretched sick at age 11 and took the first chance she saw to pierce an ogre through the eyes and ride its corpulent cadaver down a waterfall. She's an unrepentant monstress, cloaking herself in mythos that justify the existence of the unknowable and unjustifiable when rationality predictably falls short of truth, and a snooty little know-it-all who wants to create something so raw and important people will have no choice but know her name, and most importantly, she gets away with it.
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Because, I love you
Jaehyun x reader // FLUFF, SMUT, angst? rich kids! au Summary: You’re back and you’re completely a different person. From being rich and spoiled, now you see yourself as someone cheap. Even so, Jaehyun chase you as he tries to win you back even though you’ve been pushing him away over and over again. Word Count: 4k Warnings: Mentions of poverty, ‘poor’, swearing, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of bullying, inferiority complex Note: -inspired by my current situation. So I hope no one steals this. haha -I’m not mocking the poor -see end for few notes.
After two years, you’re finally back in town and the word spreads fast. The moment you step down from the train until you arrive at your best friend Aisha’s birthday party you feel every pair of eyes look at you. Everyone is completely shocked and dying to talk to you but they can’t. Because in their eyes, you’re still rich daddy’s favorite daughter. In their eyes, you’re still the same girl who left before you could even graduate high school.
You left without saying anything to your neighbours, friends or even your boyfriend, Jaehyun. The only one who knew about your situation is Aisha, and she swore she will never reveal the true reason why you left.
As you walk to the party, Aisha gave you a big hug giving you a glass of your favorite alcoholic beverage. “You’re back for good, right?” she asked trying to fight the loud music. “Yes! I’ll start school on Monday” you answer as one of her visitor took her away from you.
Everyone looks familiar but you don’t dare talk them. Not because you think they’re losers, but you feel small in this party. It feels like you don’t belong here. You made your way to the familiar pool side where you and Aisha used to hang out. There you enjoy the silence and the sound of the bubbles from the pool.
“You left, me without saying goodbye and now that you’re back I don’t get a simple ‘hi’”
Jaehyun sat beside you with all his bravery with a drink on his hand. Still handsome as the last day you spend with him. Out of all the people you left in this town, you feel sorry for Jaehyun. He didn’t deserve to be left alone just like that. You’ve been together for four amazing years and you were crazy in love with each other. For sure he got hurt when you left, and maybe he got mad? To be honest you want him to get mad to you, that way it’s easier to fully let go.
“Hi. I’m sorry about that” you try to ignore him and leave but he grabs your arm. “You left me without a word. Aren’t we going to talk about it?”
“No. Stay away from me, people might get the wrong idea” you said, stern and hard.
He brushed his hair using his fingers and pressed his lower and upper lip together. “Fuck until now you make me so frustrated” he scoffed, “Let’s get back together” he blurted out without even thinking.
“What makes you think I want you now?” Jaehyun is really impossible to reason with, he has this ‘I want it, I got it’ attitude that you hate but you’re not letting him win this time.
“Nothing. But I’m certain I still love you. And trying to win you back would be worth it”
“I’m not the same person, Jaehyun” you try to walk away but he accidentally pushed you straight to the pool. Next thing you know you’re both soaked and he offered you a ride home because clearly it’s his fault and you can’t ride the bus with wet clothes.
He was about to drive you to your house. Your old house, the biggest house for the richest family in town. “I don’t live there anymore. I live in a small apartment now” it’s embarrassing but you didn’t have a choice but to tell him the truth.
The drive was quiet, just the way you like it. “Sorry about your car seat, It’s drenched” he gave you his jacket before you get out of the car. “It’s okay, we’ve done a lot of other filthy things here” you rolled your eyes and left him.
He was happy you’re back. He never let himself forget everything about you and now that you’re back he will try to bring back what was taken away from the two of you. That’s how much he loves you.
Now that you live alone, adaptation is important. This town knew you as the rich and spoiled daughter who knows nothing but to shop and go to the coolest parties. Little did they know those two years definitely changed you as a person. Who knew even poverty would look good in you. Kidding aside, now you know how to wash and iron your own clothes, wash dishes, clean the house, cook your own meal. Everything that involves surviving alone.
Today is your first day in college and you’re looking forward to it mainly because of one reason. It’s the start to build a new life. But you saw Jaehyun waiting for you outside your apartment and your day is ruined already.
“Were not doing this Jae” you said as you show him how completely annoyed you were.
“Come on, I’ll take you to school” he offered with a big smile, showing off his dimples.
“We don’t go to the same college, idiot”
“I know, I just want to spend time with you. Please get in the car or I’ll scream how much I love you” you can’t believe he threatened you and you can’t believe you got in his car. You told him what happened last night is a mistake, and you were never planning to be friends with him just because you’re back. But of course he just shrugged it off and gave you a grande coffee from Starbucks.
It’s sweet how Jaehyun still remembers old habits, but it’s not you anymore. As he drive you to your school, you can’t stop being embarrassed again because it’s a public university but of course you don’t tell him that. “Thanks for dropping me off, uhm please stop this. Whatever you’re planning it’s-“ he cut you off, “I’ll pick you up at 5” he said with a mocking smile that makes your blood boil.
First day is first day. Classes from 7am to 5pm, new friends, a list of expensive books to buy, a quick tour around the university, and annoying Jaehyun waiting for you. “You’re unbelievable Jaehyun” you said a little angrier than ever, “Ugh- I need to go to the public library. Go home!” you don’t know what’s gotten into his head but he continues to pry. “I’ll study with you” he said as he runs off behind you, following you until you’re both sited at the library.
Focused and busy, you can’t believe he’s actually studying with you. You found of that he pursued engineering, and he’s already in his Junior year and actually doing really good. Deep down you’re proud of him.
As you continue studying in advance for a few subjects, you can’t figure out Math and it’s giving you a headache already. Jaehyun noticed that you’re kind of stuck to what you’re solving. So he offered help, he left a note in front of you that say’s, ‘I can help you with that’ You mouthed the word, ‘how’ and he made his own way to teach how to solve the problem, which actually really helped you.
‘Thank you’ you forced a smile. He winked back. Fucking Jung Jaehyun.
After studying, he drove you home and the ride was still quiet like the last time. He was incredibly a big help today, and you wanted to be nice just so you can return the favor. “I don’t have a choice but to be nice to you today. Do you want to eat something before you leave?”
He let out a small laugh, something that made you think he’s thinking about something dirty. And it’s clear as the night sky that he was thinking about eating you. “Forget I asked, you may leave and never come back again” you got out of his car and he quickly did the same thing, apologising over and over again as he follow you to your apartment.
The moment you invite him in, he was surprised to see your place to be so small. There’s no other room other than the bathroom, the kitchen is small, and there’s no furnitures. He knew better than to judge and ask about what happened to you. Instead, he made himself comfortable while you prepare the ramen in your kitchen. He’s not used to seeing you like this but he thinks you’re still amazing. You used to buy him expensive food when you were still rich and spoiled, but now you make cheap ramen for him.
You caught him smile as you place two bowls on the table, “Why are you smiling?” you brought him back to reality and shake his head, “oh nothing. I was just thinking about taking you for a long shopping tomorrow after school” that’s not you anymore, you down a glass of water and took a deep breath.
“The truth is Jaehyun, I’m broke. I left two years ago because my dad’s business crashed and burned. The bank took everything from us, the house, the cars, mom’s jewelries, everything. We needed to start a new life somewhere no one knows us because my parents can’t handle the humiliation and embarrassment. I have to take care of them both because they don’t know shit” and your story went on and on as he listens attentively on how you needed to be responsible for your parents, you told him how you learned doing house chores and being independent which made him fall in love with you even more.
“I know why you’re here Jaehyun. I don’t need your help-“
“I’m here for the reason, because I love you. Now eat your ramen before it gets cold” surprisingly he reached for your forehead and kissed it.
You won’t admit but the following days were bearable because of Jaehyun. He let’s you be your independent self as he takes care of you in his own ways. Spending time with you at the library made him study even harder and ace all of his big exams. When you were in high school studying with Jaehyun would end up having sex with him but now, studying is studying and he loved how he sees you accomplish all your school works just in time before the library closes.
The changes in his life with you in it is visible, and he loves it. Secretly he learned how to clean the dishes at home so he can offer to clean the dishes the next time you invite him in and eat ramen. Jaehyun loves spending time with you whenever and however but his favorite thing to do with you is going to the market. Picking fresh fruits and vegetables, buying fish and meat. It’s all fascinating for him which amuses you.
“Hey, I’m just wondering if you could go to this party I’m throwing this Saturday”
Going to the party means seeing a lot of people you already forgot about, of course you don’t want to. But you didn’t want to disappoint Jaehyun, “I can drop by” is the only answer you can think of. “That’s fine with me, as long as I get to see you that night” he said as he continues to drive.
That night you wished you didn’t say yes to Jaehyun. You don’t know how the rumors spread but everyone knew about the reason why you left. You can hear people making fun of you, telling you it’s probably karma because you were such a bitch back in the day. All you can do is cry at the bathroom and pray that Jaehyun won’t see you like this.
“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you” Jaehyun found you as soon as you got out from the bathroom, faking a smile as someone bumped you on purpose and spill their drink on your shirt.
“Hey asshole you did that on purpose!” he shouts, clearly Jaehyun was not having a great time from his own party. “Everybody get out! All you do is gossip tonight you fucking ungrateful people, out!” seeing Jaehyun like this scared you, he never gets mad in front of you. When the house is already clear, he apologised to you for giving you a hard time tonight.
“I didn’t know they’ll gossip like hell tonight-“
“It’s not your fault Jae, it’s my dad’s fault” you sigh and sat on his couch, “Maybe they’re right, it’s karma. You know how I used to bully the students at school whenever I see someone bring packed lunch. I was a bitch, Jae”
He told you that y/n was long gone, “You’re like a completely different person now” he pulled you close to him as he tell you stories about him trying to wash his own clothes yesterday. The thought of it made you laugh like crazy, your voice echoes around his big house. He comforted you and made you laugh the whole evening, and you remember why you fell in love with Jaehyun in the first place.
On his birthday, it was a weekend and you had the whole day to celebrate. Nothing too fancy for this year, all he wanted to do is be with you. Spend the day like how a normal couple would spend Valentines day. Even though it’s clear to him that you’re not yet back together.
“I don’t have enough money saved up to buy you something you would actually like, so you can ask me to do anything today. I’m the gift” you present yourself playfully to him which made him laugh like loud, his ears are turning red.
“You know you’re the one that I want, be with me again” of course he’ll say that, and he’s serious.
“Don’t ruin your day you know my answer. Ask about something else” you said with a frown.
“Okay sorry you’re right. But I’m not changing what I said. Be with me today, pretend that we’re together again”
He held out his hand, waiting for you to grab it like how you used to do back when you were still together. Granting his wish you intertwine your fingers with his and you swear you felt something in your stomach. Butterflies, excitement, happiness.
The day went on beautifully which was nothing as you expected. You held hands around the park, swinging it like little kids while giggling and talking about anything that comes out from your mouths. Kissing your hand whenever he feels like doing it, and you can’t complain about it because it’s part of the deal. “What? Be thankful it’s not your lips” he winked and kissed your hand again.
While watching movies, his arms are wrapped around you as you shiver because of the cold movie house. Kissing your forehead whenever it’s near his lips. And to end the celebration properly and avoid the crowded dine-in restaurants, you ate takeout in his car while you watch the city lights. He was holding your hand right after you both eat your meals and continue telling stories and laughing the whole time.
You wanted to admit to yourself that you fell in love with Jaehyun for the second time in your life. But given your life situation, you still have nothing to offer to him.
“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?” he asked as if he just heard your thoughts. While waiting for your answer, his eyes were looking straight to you, head resting on his seat, hands still intertwined.
“We have big dreams that time. I mean studying in New York. Together? I can’t have those dreams with you while I’m… poor”
“What about now? Still not convinced we can be together even if you’re ‘poor’” he kissed your hand again, “I don’t know if I can let go when the clock strikes 12” the atmosphere suddenly became serious.
“Then don’t”
He’s sure as hell shocked by what you said. He lean forward and you did the same thing, and he kissed you. Sweet and slowly at first but no one is stopping so the both of you got carried away. The kiss became wet and hungrier, you noticed he was pulling you to sit on his lap but you didn’t want to. So you stopped the kiss and catch your breath. Letting go of his hand and put it on your forehead as you massage it, pretending you had a headache.
“Did you just kissed me because you feel sorry for me? Or is it because you feel same way?” He asked politely.
“I never stopped loving you, Jaehyun” you keep your hand relaxed on your lap. “I’m sorry if I ruined your day last minute-“
“What? No you didn’t” he reached for your face so you could look him in the eye, “I only have five minutes left. Kiss me again? Please?”
And you did. This time it was wet, but not because of spit but because of your tears. You continue kissing him until 12:01, hands wrapped around his head as you ruffle his soft hair. “I don’t want to rush you or force you. And I know were still not together again even though we shared that kiss. But at least now I have hope. Take all the time that you want. Just don’t leave me again. Or else I’ll find you this time.” He kissed your hand too many times before kissing your whole face, peck after peck.
Finally letting Jaehyun in your life again without boundaries, the following days were sweeter. He still studies with you at the library without distracting you but this time you two make out like crazy in his car at the library’s parking lot before he takes you home.
He still have dinner with you whenever you invite him in but this time he can finally hug you from behind and watch you cook from your shoulder. You even taught him how to cook and turns out he’s a fast learner. “Not bad Jung Jaehyun “
And because you taught him how to cook, he cooked for you in his big kitchen at home. You helped a bit but he did most of the work. “This is delicious” you praised his Spaghetti aglio e olio, ate almost half of the pan which made him happy because you loved his cooking. After dinner, you both clean up the kitchen washing everything on the sink, cleaning the table and finally snuggled up on his big couch with a glass of red wine.
“I think I deserve a good kiss” he said as he pretends to be tired. The next thing you know you’re making out on their couch before he drives you home. Which was sweet, he reach in for a kiss whenever the stop light goes red and continues to drive when it turns green.
“I didn’t want to feed your pride but, I hate going home after spending a great time with you” his smile was from ear to ear but you see tears and you started to panic.
“Did I say something wrong?” he shook his head and cupped your face with both hands and kissed you sincerely.
“I love you so fucking much” he barely said it clearly because of his sobbing, his tears are falling down on his face.
“I don’t get it Jaehyun why are you crying?”
“Hearing that makes me so fucking happy. It means you wont push me away ever again.”
you suddenly remember the time you push him away. You hugged him and saw the time, 3am. “I think you should stay. I cant let you drive at such a late hour. Come on I’ll make you coffee” you kiss him on the lips one last time, “stop crying.” You finished the day with bodies tangled on your cheap floor mattress as you talked and talked until you both fall asleep.
Time passed by so fast, you can’t believe it’s been two years already since you went back. Your relationship with Jaehyun has been the same, peaceful, happy and simple. Jaehyun is in his senior year and he became busier than ever. Guess what? Being a graduating student didn’t stopped him from seeing you. He sleeps more in your small apartment than his big house, “I can sleep better when you’re beside me” he said as he falls asleep beside you while you still study for a big test.
With no labels or whatsoever, Jaehyun couldn’t care less about it. As long as he could be with you and kiss you, you’re his girl. Labels or not.
“I have a big question to ask” he said while he’s driving. “I need to bring you as my date on this family gathering this weekend. I know you hate parties-“
“Yes. I’ll go with you” you said with a sly smile. Deep down you’re hesitating of course. Jaehyun’s family became the richest family after your father’s business crashed. Truth be told, you forgot how to be elegant. Now you’re just cheap.
As the most awaited weekend took place, you’re thankful Jaehyun bought you a nice dress fit for the party. Parties like this is full of business matters, yes it’s a party but everything they talk about in the four corners of this room is plain business. You know because your family used to throw tons of parties like this back in the day.
Hearing the continuous playing of piano made you remember how Jaehyun played nonstop at the piano you used to own… how you missed everything. Suddenly you don’t feel well. You wanted to get out of this place.
You tap Jaehyun’s shoulder as you excuse him from a visitor, “I think I should go home. I’ll take a cab, don’t worry about me” you kissed him on the cheek.
“Y/n your’e scaring me whats wrong?” he whispers, completely worried. You told him the problem and he told you he’s sorry, “It’s my fault. I’ll take you home”
A week passed and you told Jaehyun you need to bury yourself on thick books and you need to study for three big tests. Which does not exist. You just want to get away from him. But the space made you realise your new found love for Jaehyun. It’s not that you depend your happiness to Jaehyun, he just makes you look forward to living a simple life. Imagine having a delicious wine and perfect cheese on the side. Jaehyun is the cheese that made everything even more better.
After having a 7-5 class, you found Jaehyun waiting for you at the school’s parking lot. Gloomy and not his normal cheery self.
“Are we back to square one?” he blurted out before you can even greet him. “Because I don’t mind doing it again” he said a little too aggressive.
You panic, you thought he’s mad “no no were not. Im sorry. The dinner was too much. I just needed to forget it. Im sorry, I missed you” he hugged you tight back.
“I thought I lost you again” you shook your head. “Take me somewhere today I’m on school break for two weeks”
And just like that, you two were back to being your cheery self again. He took you to his house, cooked dinner for you and enjoyed his home theater with you. You watched a tear jerker romantic movie and he was whispering ‘i love yous’ whenever the lead actor do something sweet in the movie. You do the same but not as bold as he is. You never actually said those three words to him properly, but you do love him unconditionally.
“Your room is still the same.” You’re fresh from the shower wearing a black shirt from Jaehyun with just your panties. Roaming around his room as you dry your hair using a towel. You saw a picture of you that he took, just beside his LP player and vinyl collections. His room is always this cozy, you remember doing your homework here when you were in high school and having sex whenever you want, because no one dares to disturb you two in his room.
And speaking of sex, you suddenly remember the last time you had sex with Jaehyun. That was a week before you leave. It happened in this room, he didn’t know but you were completely heartbroken that time.
“Hey stop snooping around and come to bed with me” he said as he pat his bed, telling you to lay beside him. You jumped right in and went on top of him. “What if I never went back?” he hugged you and switched positions, now you’re beneath him. “But you’re here.” you feel his lips on your exposed neck, “in my bed” you kissed him on the mouth as you both sit up and remove your shirts. He skilfully unclasps your bra and threw it somewhere, pulling down your panties and throwing it to the floor.
As he was busy getting you naked, you take your time admiring his perfect body. Pushing him down on the mattress and getting on top of him again “Remember when I do this?” you tease as you kiss him on his abs, “and this” down to his lower abdomen, removing his boxer briefs slowly as you keep on kissing him all the way to his hard cock. You threw away his boxer briefs just like he did with your underwear.
Brushing his soft hair as you kiss him softly, Jaehyun is slowly making his way in between your legs. “Be gentle okay?” you whisper before he plays with your folds, gently playing with your cunt while looking at you. Slightly rolling your hips, Jaehyun’s fingers feels nice inside. All you can do is moan and grab his shoulders.
Wet enough for his cock, he slowly lined his cock on you cunt. Pushing in slowly, feeling your tight walls that he missed so much. “I love you Jung Jaehyun” you whisper before he move. Happy that you finally said it clearly. He thrust in slowly just how you like it, kissing your mouth as you moan on every thrust he gives. Gasping whenever he gives you a sharp one.
“Don’t leave me again” he whispers as he continue you to fuck you on a steady pace.
“I wont” you whimper and reach for him to keep him close to you as he thrust. “I’ll make you happy everyday” no doubt about that, you nod completely out of words as he bring you to the edge.
“Jaehyun right there” you moan as you spread your legs wider.
“Right here, hmm? Feels good?” he grabbed your waist with both hands and kept going with a faster pace. You nod weakly, mouth open and eyebrows furrow as you let go. Whispering sweet nothings to you while still hitting your good spot.
You shiver and curl beneath him as he chase his own orgasm and cum inside you. Cum dripping from your cunt, he slowly pull out and replaced in with his finger. Kissing you softly, while you still spread your legs for him and let him finger you as you both ride your high.
He kept you warm and calm after cleaning you, kissing you on your temple just a little too long but quick enough to ask for more.
“As much as I miss having sex with you, I think we should sleep already. I know you, you will ask for round two in ten minutes after you stretch your body- Look you’re doing it now” he shook his head playfully with a smile.
“Jaehyunie” you pout as you stretch and whine. “No” he playfully refuse. “We’ll have round two tomorrow” you nod as you accept defeat and snuggle beside him. Eyes closed and really comfortable he suddenly whispers, “I love you, y/n” you don’t say it back but he knows you love him too.
Jaehyun’s graduation finally came and you couldn’t be more proud. His parents flew from America and you finally meet them, again. “We knew it. We always knew you’re the right one for our Jaehyun” his mom told you, as you help her around the kitchen. The dinner was just Jaehyun, his parents and you.
“I have everyone that I love in this table, the people who helped me graduate and made me a better person. Cheers!” he kissed you in front of his parents, for the first time. “And you, thank you for giving me a second chance” he clinks your glass, took a sip on his wine, and kissed you again.
Soon, Jaehyun bought himself a decent apartment and asked you to move in with him. From there on, you sleep and wake up beside Jaehyun. No need to pick you up from your apartment, or watch you study at the library. Jaehyun is your home now.
#nct-writers#neowritingsnet#nct smut#smut#nct fluff#fluff#nct jaehyun#nct jaehyun smut#jaehyun smut#jung jaehyun#jung jaehyun smut#nct jung jaehyun#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nctxreader#jaehyun x reader
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AFTER HOURS chapter ten
Summary: Enemies to the public, friends to their close ones, friends with benefits between them. Rival companies and an attraction that can’t be ignored.
Tim Drake x reader
Warnings: swearing, mature content, smut, 18+ only, mention death of parents, car crash mentions.
A/N: The last chapter friends!! Thank you everyone for your love and support with this series I really hope that you all liked it! If anyone one is interested in a bonus chapter or two let me know with some ideas, I’d love to hear what you guys think :)
Word count: 1.3k
Tim held a brand new set of keys in his hand. They felt foreign compared to his old ones - yet the weight of them didn't bring him down. They brought excitement, a new chapter of his life was a head of him and he was beyond excited for it. The smile on his face wouldn't go away and neither could the giddy feeling in his chest.
Gotham City found it's saviors not in a bat or a bird, but in two young adults who were always frowned upon for being kids. Tim found his savior in her - she was his rock, his everything. (Y/N) found her hero in Red Robin, in Tim Drake, her lover.
She had taken the news just as he expected her too. Worried at first, amazed that he was the hero on the streets, final able to understand the cuts and bruises that he had all the time and the scars that laced him. After the shock had worn off, she became supportive of him. Always there when he came home and wishing him luck and safety before departure.
(Y/N) understood more that there was to him than ever before after the revelation. She fell even more in love with him - though it didn't feel as if that as possible at this point. Nights of falling asleep in his arms, waking up to him, taking care of each other. They had it all - at least all that mattered.
Tim looked over at her. A smile on her face that matched his, the same weight of a new set of keys in her palm. It we a new chapter for them, one that would lead to many more. With his free hand, he's reached over to grab hers.
"New day," she breathed out. It was nerve wracking, making such a big purchase like this together. Their first purchase like this together. Something that she never thought she would expect, nor the people of Gotham. "New place."
"How do you feel?"
She felt a lot of things. Scared for their future together. Grateful that they had found themselves in one another. Worried about the life that they're forced to live, not the one that they wanted. Mostly, she felt in love.
This was a big step for them. Something more than a home, more than a relationship. This wasn't just their future together, it's the future of Gotham. They were willing to risk it all for each other.
"Nervous," she decided with. Tim glanced over to her from his stare at their new building. She held a new look in her eyes that he had never seen before. Nervous was right, she never had this. Tim tilted down to kiss her. His lips soft, yet firm against hers. He was nervous too - even though together they had no reason to be nervous.
"We already live together, how much different can this be?" Tim tried to lighten the mood. That smile she loved so much shone brightly on his face. He loved in less than two weeks after she had asked him. Maybe they were moving fast, maybe the people of Gotham questioned where their loyalties lied with their companies.
All she knew, was that these past nine months of living with him had been the most important, grateful months of her life. She had never been so happy since the loss of her parents - and she could tell that he felt the same way. Though found similarity in their sadness, but they were together for the love that they were about to create from it.
She learned to hate the nights that he came home late with cuts and bruises or the times that he had to go away for team business. (Y/N) also came to appreciate the small moments with him, the ones that were filled with quiet whispers and meaningful touches. They learned together, not apart.
"I think buying our first building together as co-companies is a little different than you moving in," she rolled her eyes at him. The new building they stood in front of was the first of potentially many co-projects that her company and WE would accomplish together. They were partners in this, and maybe longer down the line it'll be more permanent.
"You're right, moving in with you was a lot more fun. This time I get Vicki Vale questioning my choices instead of sex in every room of the house," Tim laughed. His hand travelled down her waist and jokingly squeezed her ass. He was lucky no one was around - otherwise he was sure he would have gotten an earful.
The nine months of running with the press, working their companies all while still trying to get the hang of this new relationship idea - it was a lot. Everything with Tim wasn't perfect, and she never expected it to be. They had their fights - most of which were based off of him risking his life, the other half about hard choices they had to make in their companies.
The idea to work together didn't come thankful to everyone. Many people in their city didn't like the idea of the two of them joining their companies on projects like this one. They didn't want to entrust the safety of the city in the hands of a couple who was still in the honeymoon stages of their relationship.
And (Y/N) couldn't blame them. She hated the idea that one day they might break up - but it wasn't a broken heart she was worried about. It was Gotham. They had decided never to join their companies for good - but projects like this? Putting whatever future differences aside to build an orphanage in their parents names?
That meant more than anything else in the world.
"Mmm, baby, I bought your favourite wine to celebrate tonight," She pecked him once more. Her lips ghosted over the lobe of his ear. "But I'm sure I can find lots of other ways to celebrate with you too, if that's what you'd rather."
"You know me so well, my love," Tim grinned. Her hand grazed down his chest, stopping right at his belt buckle. There was no one around to see them - but he had already gotten enough of her hint that she didn't need to risk it. "As much as I'd like to find the nearest empty room, we've got about ten minutes until we have to go talk to the press."
"Ten minutes is all I need, Timmy," she flirted. Her fingers toyed with the buckle once more, though he refused to look down at her actions. He gabbed her hand as she dared to move it lower. An innocent look remained in her eyes - a look that he knew to not be innocent at all.
"Fuck, do I love you," Tim pecked her lips. He intertwined their fingers, dropping them to their sides. "But I'd rather fuck you properly the second we get home."
"Think you can wait that long, Mr. Drake?"
"Mr. Drake today, huh?" he ignored her teasing. Truth was, if he caved into it, he knew that he couldn't wait until getting home to have her. "What about Mrs. Drake one day?" Tim looked over at her. There was no surprise on her face, no disappointment. She had thought about it lots - marrying him one day.
It seemed that it was always in the books for their future. Marriage with Tim... she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else besides him for the rest of her life. He was the one, he was always the one.
"(Y/N) Drake-Wayne," she repeated it. It rolled off the tongue so smoothly that it sounded like it was meant to be. In his eyes, it was. She was always meant to be the one for him, even when she didn't know it herself. "One day, Tim, it sounds absolutely perfect."
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ok so i started this as a draft days ago and barely remember where i was going with this idea but i tried to fill it out a little more. basically it’s just that anytime Curt says he misses being a spy he misses being a spy with Owen or the spy he was with Owen. so probably everything is what everyone knows already
Curt ties being a spy with Owen. completely, intrinsically, whatever, okay?? in Spy Again Curt says “Owen would want me to do this”, and lists
hop in a jet and fly again
grow a spine again
do my best not to cry again
wear a suit and tie again
drink martinis and drive again
get by again
feel like a real important guy again
as what he’s going to do as a spy. let’s check off what happens before Owen’s reveal (i’m trying to include some)
hop in a jet and fly again
grow a spine again
do my best not to cry again (i’m trying to be nice here he’s probably doing his best despite what happens)
wear a suit and tie again (literally part of the mission)
drink martinis and drive again (he’s sobering up)
get by again (barely my dude)
feel like a real important guy again
which, decent, but our dude is also having gay flashbacks, messing up a very simple and clear mission, and mistakes flirting for fighting (to quote my friend “Amelie” “he’s,,, so bad at pretending to be straight”) this all being with him having been one of the greatest spies, to the point of recognition years after he retired.
and post Owen’s reveal
hop in a jet and fly again (we’re going to count whatever that in
grow a spine again
do my best not to cry again
wear a suit and tie again (i mean he doesn’t need it??)
drink martinis and drive again (ok i don’t know maybe?? he does shots before and THEN chases Owen and then he’s drinking whiskey when he meets with Tatiana)
get by again
feel like a real important guy again (look at him at the end
more below the cut because this is already long and it’s going to be even longer
Okay, to be more in depth, (this’ll sound like a lot of my other posts) at the beginning Curt Mega is truly a great spy. yes, he was captured by Oleg, but the entire interaction with him Curt is still in control. he mocks Oleg, breaks his fingers, hits the bat back at him, all while holding a conversation (and flirting) with Owen. he’s confident the entire time, he’s willing to go against plans and is overconfident to a fault. While Cynthia is somewhat rude and pays more attention to Owen in the beginning (”finally someone who knows what the hell they’re doing!”) but i think she’d treat him the same as Curt if he ever did decide to work for her. it’s partially a “bring in new talent” and partially a “keep the old talent from being overconfident” thing. i don’t think it’s an actual mark on what pre-fall Curt was like as an agent. but either way, their record was six minutes to get out of a building presumably set to explode (or implode. fuck if i know) and they were still both confident and eager to lower the time even more. and they would have accomplished it, if not for Owen falling. what i’m saying is pre-canon Curt was a very effective agent, was good at his job, and was likely almost never out of his depth.
in Spy Again, he’s talking about becoming a spy again, but he links this to Owen, believing that being a spy again would enable him to work past Owen’s death (”but maybe this time’ll be different, it might be what I need”). he’s haunted by the “memories” not “memory”, which could be taken as any time he and Owen worked together, not just when he died. he wants to be a spy, but even stating that and the things he misses about being a spy (above lists) starts to remind him of Owen (”and i know just where i’m goin’, me and my partner Owen!”). he sees himself post-fall, with his beard, alcoholism, and trying and failing to improve (”i do what i can, try to make a plan, to be a better man, but nothing seems to stick”) and again relates it to Owen (”Owen please, if you could see what’s become of me, what would you think?”). Curt decides Owen would want him to be a spy again (”i once was a spy. i think you’d want me to spy again”) and repeats it to make it stick (”Owen would want me to do this”), and that is what truly starts him off again. or so it would seem.
in his first mission back, Curt can’t start again. he has to talk himself into doing his job again (”looks like that someone has to be me. you came here to do this, so do the job, stop acting like a little pussy”), and then mostly rides along on what Tatiana does anyway (”i second that motion!) a far cry from the beginning Curt who did his job eagerly. and we are again reminded that Curt was a great spy when Sergio recognizes Curt on sight and says “is that Agent Curt Mega? ... i can’t believe this, the most famous spy in the world busting my arms deal. hey, would you mind signing something...” followed by DMA immediately being able to disarm Curt with ease, showing the contrast. Curt does recognize the baked goods are the way to hurt Sergio, but also loses the bomb to Tatiana
Curt is, at this point, still waiting [in a way] for a partner. it is not implied in the beginning that he and Owen worked together every mission, rather the opposite in fact (“MI6 didn’t tell me you were on this mission”), but he still seems to almost expect a partner, and goes off what Tatiana says even though they’re not working together, and they both train their weapons on the baked goods.
Cynthia points out that he’s been on an early retirement for four years, which Curt is very quick to correct as a grieving period. his hands shake during Cynthia’s drill, he fumbles the gun, and he has none of the grace or style of the beginning. when Cynthia mentions Owen and Curt’s alcoholism (”i remember when i got the call that Owen died and you lived, i screamed into Susan’s neck for fifteen seconds, then i locked it up and moved on. you on the other hand, you drank yourself to rock bottom...”) Curt doesn’t even look at her. when she poisons him, he’s still able to repeat back (in essence) what she said, showing that the spy of the past is still there, deep down.
Eyes on the Prize II is the (i think) first time we see Gay Flashback-Owen. he is notably not slipping and dying, as would likely be going through Curt’s head if he were haunted by that specific memory alone (going back to the “haunted by any memory of Owen”) thing i mentioned, but is instead also saying “keep your eyes on the prize” with the ensemble, again lining up Owen with Curt’s idea of being a spy.
during the casino scene Curt is clumsy with his acting, and is trying to get information from Tatiana (it’s all very awkward. “make it a white russian, hold the vodka, please, thank you so much” “excellent choice. one vodka martini bone dry, and one glass of cream”), but as soon as another person joins it (Dick Big), the relationship between them turns from enemies trying to get information from the other to an uneasy team (”i’m hardly alone, the woman and i were just about to-”), with Curt even giving a russian toast, and although Tatiana definitely notices when Curt is given a gun by the dealer, she politely declines to mention it, and when Curt offers her his arm while Dick is off finding a waiter, she smiles. and while it could be argued that it is just them working undercover, this did feel more genuine than when they are alone and back in their assumed positions (”besides, without that horrible face fungus, what will i have to yank?” “we are talking about fighting, right?”) Tatiana also recognizes that Curt is alone in more ways than one, both without backup and without anyone he can trust fully. in the short time they’ve been together, they already are close enough to friends that Tati apologizes for bringing him to DMA
despite the two of them being on opposite sides during this encounter, they are already beginning to act as partners/friends, and Curt takes her betrayal more personally than he should have
i’d also like to take this moment to point out that DMA almost instinctively stabs the Nazi henchman for saying “seems his noggin’s a bit dense!” of Curt
during Torture Tango, it seems like he’s having a natural reaction to getting tortured. Curt is nervous, he’s afraid, he’s ready to die (”you sick bastard, why don’t you just kill me already?”/”i can’t deny that i’m gonna die”). but this is NOT how the torture scene at the beginning went, even before he knew Owen was there. at the beginning scene Curt is arrogant, throwing Oleg’s words back at him, breaking his fingers, keeping a cool tone and staying in control the whole time. this time he barely talks to the DMA, he doesn’t fight back, he just accepts it. also, he sings “i once was a spy but i won’t be a spy again” and “thought i could say goodbye, but i can’t lie i wanna be a spy again” despite the fact that he is a spy again. he says he wants to be a spy again, but he already is a spy again, what he’s missing is Owen. he was once a spy with a partner he loved and could trust completely, and the partner felt the same way about him. that is what i believe enabled him to be such a good spy, he had someone who knew everything about him, being gay included, and he was able to act more confidently as a result. what he misses is less of the “go get the girl and go save the world” and more seeing his partner even for short periods and having the confidence that comes from being known. also, curt is on the verge of death and is still thinking of Owen (”doesn’t even matter if i killed my best friend”)
back to Tatiana, who’s having her own crisis. “is Mega my enemy do i let him die? i’ve got to think about my family ‘cause no one’s looking out for me...” she, at this point, has not interacted with Curt beyond the arms deal, the casino, and betraying him to von Nazi and DMA. despite this she still sees him as a possible ally, and ultimately does decide to betray von Nazi and DMA for him (to his understandable confusion). when she unties him, he only calms down when she holds her arm out to him, but he becomes so distracted by it and Gay Flashback-Owen that he doesn’t notice DMA is waking up until he’s already been shot. i’d also like to point out that Gay Flashback-Owen is doing the same arm out pose Tatiana is doing while holding Curt’s arm
end of act 1. can i get a wahoo?
when Curt is with Barb, he acknowledges that he’s fucked things up, but still catches himself on saying he is a [great] spy again ”i was, i am, supposed to be the best”
i think during the gala he is trying to be the Curt from the past while ignoring why he was that way. he insists on going rogue, he confidently (and foolishly) announces that he is a spy, the prince will be assassinated, and that the Russians and Americans know, despite the fact that it doesn’t seem like a good idea if thought about at all. With blowing up the facility at the beginning there was some merit to it. they had been seen, they stole the plans and possibly wished to muddle why they were there, the facility might have had more plans they didn’t know about and they were already on a time limit. they also had a limit on the tech items they had (no rocket shoes :’( ).
when Tatiana rescues him again and takes him to his mother’s safe house, who mentions a “constant parade of drinking buddies, for poker or wrestling or whatever you boys do in the rumpus room” and while we could make an argument about Curt trying to move on after the fall, i think this youtube comment on the video is a fucking treasure and i will forever remember it.
i’d also like to point out now that Tatiana is truly the only character that i believe could “replace” Owen for Curt. he needs someone in his life who can know even the parts he hides from those closest to him, someone on equal footing with him, someone who doesn’t idolize him, and someone who works well with him. he can’t tell his mother, because she wants grandchildren, she wants a daughter-in-law, she wants to plan a wedding. it can’t be Cynthia, she’s his boss, it’s set during the Lavender Scare when he could lose his job for being gay. it can’t be Barb, who has an intense crush on him, and even when she does act in a platonic way, she is willing to risk her job based on the fact that it’s him (in an almost awestruck way). Tatiana is unimpressed with Curt when they first meet, they become friends quickly, work together to stop von Nazi and DMA, they are both spies at the top of the field, and she accepts him (”you’re cool with me?” “till the end!” “cool :)”). also, i think it’s interesting that Tatiana believes she is saving someone (her family) by leaving them behind, while Curt believed he killed someone (Owen his lover) by leaving them behind. just kinda parallels i think
before Doing This, Curt says he is is afraid that “[he’ll] never be the spy [he] once was” and that he believes he shouldn’t need anyone else. when Tatiana says he’ll get everyone who cares about him killed with his line of thinking he says the line “i already have.” explains about Owen, and adds “and that was back when I was the old Curt”.
during One More Shot, Curt acknowledges that he tried to get past missing Owen by trying not to need anyone else, which was wrong (“i used to think i could do this by myself i was fine, i didn't need any help“). this is him starting to take his friendship with Tati and being able to use it to see that while he cannot work alone, he doesn’t need one specific person to make him the man he is.
this of course promptly goes out the window when DMA is revealed to be Owen
however, Curt still calls Tatiana “partner” before going after Owen.
when he does go after Owen (One Step Ahead), he still thinks of Owen as the man from 1957 (”what happened to the man i knew?”). when Owen begins to explain, Curt tries to remind him of what they did “together. two of the greatest spies to ever live”. once again associating him and Owen together with being a spy
also, once Owen is dead (idk if i hope for real or not) again, Curt does make a change for the better. he’s able to be fairly confident around Cynthia, he tries to be enthusiastic about Barb’s tech/data analysis merge, he is able to talk about his “ex lover returned from the grave” with Tatiana. i do find it interesting though that he does not tell her about the other facilities, again taking it upon himself to fix it, and only telling her “give me a ring if you’re ever stateside”.
in a final moment, Curt is able to move on from Owen, and acknowledge “i once was a spy, i’ll always be a spy” with or without Owen.
#half way through my brain kinda shut off#probably because it's 3am#if people are right and starkid/tin can bros becomes the new shakespeare#some 23rd century kid is going to fucking plagarize this#i'd like to add something about ''it's meant to be because we're both spies''#but my brain's already shutting down again#saf#spies are forever#owen carvour#agent curt mega#deadliest man alive
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Ziggy i work two jobs now and the second job is retail where i'm on my feet all day.
If you feel up to it, tell me how yb and malik would help each other relax after a hard day.
Omg this is so fucking cute of you 🥺 i sure can!!
((i’m so sorry to hear that that sounds so exhausting :(( i used to work in retail too and my sister still does work in retail where she’s on her feet all day and she always tells me how tiring it can get.. i can imagine what you’re going through might be even harder... i’m so sorry 🥺))
okay hc time:
hmm let me think 🤔
I can actually see Malik working in retail in a classy clothing store. But only as a “last option.” As the pretentious little bitch that he is, he’d actually be the type to aim in what is generally seen as a “higher option” in the working environment. I can see him wanting to do a job where he gets to feel important, like an office job for example. Whether it’s just as a secretary or an accountant, i can see him working in more “conservative” places, where he can put on a neat suit and walk around feeling classy and bossy, or feel a sense of accomplishment by communicating with customers in polite ways and telling them what to do 💆♀️ But if his choices are narrowed down i can picture him working in a clothing store as well. But that’s like the only retail he’d work in, otherwise he’d feel far too “above it all”. It’s like his last option because, pretentious as he is, he wouldn’t enjoy a job where he has to “serve” people in any way - and that also includes packing their clothes in a bag behind a cash register.
Bakura, on the other hand, is much more laid back with that like,,,,, he doesn’t give a fuck as long as he gets money sgsjhs If it was up to him he wouldn’t be working at all. He’d survive by just stealing what’s necessary to live (but ofc that would be impossible - unfortunately for him). Like, less communication with people and more manual labour is what he’d pick. I can even see him working in really “easy jobs” (also because it’s easier for him to adapt as a human in society after having been a spirit for so long) like for a fast food chain or delivering the mail or even just as a dishwasher. You know... working in places where he might even get the chance to steal something >.> (i might draw him in working clothes one day 🤔 the idea really amuses me)
Now, coming to your post-work relaxing HCs:
When Malik comes home after a hard day’s work I can totally picture him complaining. And like, a lot. He wants Bakura’s full attention and he wants him to listen so he can talk and talk and complain and lament how everyone is wrong and he is right. Yk at the end of the day, he is no boss or CEO in the office or whatever working place he chooses (unless he really builds his way up but that would take a lot of time) and that in itself frustrates him. No matter how much he can keep up the illusion of being the one who orders his colleagues around, as a matter of fact he isn’t. He also has superiors to listen to and he has to collaborate with others and, because of all of his complexities and issues he had growing up, he'd low-key feel humiliated by something so mediocre. So, as soon as he gets home he has to let it all out and complain about everyone. He mostly overdoes it in his stories tho’ and is quite the drama queen for even just minor things that didn’t go as he planned at work...
Bakura kind of sees through all of this, ofc, but he’s totally here for Malik in these moments. He gives him his full attention and nods and agrees to whatever Malik says, even if he knows he’s being a tiny bit extra with his tales. But he knows Malik needs his attention and a lot of praise and reminders of how good he is. Most of all in these moments. So he complies ofc to please his distressed boyfriend.
(kinda angsty HCs:) When his working day goes really bad, there are even moments where Malik would take out his whole anger on Bakura and start accusing him of being the problem (shameless self-promo: kind of like in the beginning of my fic here) . And it’s in these moments where Bakura stops with all the sympathetic demeanour and actually fights back. Because enough is enough, and Malik has a tendency to go too far with his words and his insults at times. But even if they end up arguing it’s a coping mechanism for Malik as well to let out some of that pent up rage he’s been feeling all day. And with Bakura actually fighting back instead of just caving in, Malik gets a low-key unhealthy sense of high/satisfaction too: One, because he has Bakura’s full attention that way, and two, because he longs for that kind of conflict. He’d even go as far as provoking Bakura on purpose to rile him up and get him to direct his whole anger back at him. And Bakura never fails to put him back in his place so Malik gets exactly what he wants at the end of the day. Yes this would also lead to a lot of steamy fucking but i‘m trying to keep these HCs sfw and it’s really hard with these two sdfghjkIn Whatever their way, they make up for it at the end of the day anyway and it’s like nothing happened once the stress leaves them so, no worries.
When Bakura comes home after a hard day‘s work he hates everything. But more in a grumpy/don‘t-talk-to-me kind of way. Unlike Malik, he won‘t be complaining about his job because he doesn‘t want to waste another second thinking about it now that it‘s his free time. He won’t be mentioning the “W” from work unless it’s totally necessary. As soon as he’s done working, he wants to pretend it doesn‘t even exist and like, use every second out of work for his own personal benefit. Being a thief/cheater of rules in life, he always makes sure to do as little duty as possible and he would even be the type to falsely call in sick and do stuff like that to not work. ANYWAY (sorry for digressing) once he leaves work he wants to make the best of his time and as soon as he enters home he‘d throw himself on the sofa and take his favourite drink (beer) and make sure he‘s as relaxed as possible. He‘s also particularly needy to have Malik on his lap in these moments and would love for him to just stay close to him and cuddle and caress and touch him. Ideally he’d want Malik to be his perfect nice malewife in such moments and when Malik is in the right mood he even complies - he’d do anything to hear more praise from Bakura over how good and perfect he is and would even prepare him a nice non-vegetarian meal just to please his boyfriend.
Unlike Malik, Bakura would love to have less conflict possible in his post-work moments and craves to touch and just have Makik all to himself in his arms. But if Malik happens to be in the wrong mood as well and kind of neglects Bakura in these moments, Bakura could become petty enough to scowl and brood away for eternity. He’d be low-key/indirectly demanding that Malik makes up for it later on. And this would lead to nsfw hcs as well sfjhdj sorry Malik would be like “hey what’s up?” and Bakura would just grumble with his arms crossed and looking away. Malik would have to tip-toe his way slowly in to not let him be moody and disappointed for the rest of the day, calling him “Habibi” or “Bakura-sama” (since he adressea himself with ore-sama so gladly) to soften him up, until Bakura can’t help but let a smile form on his lips and they would end up cuddling and fucking ofc and everything is fine once again.
Idk i just really like them exactly because they seem to clash for being so different but they always find a way (sappy as it sounds) to be perfect for each other at the end <33
((I hope these were the kind of HCs you asked for 🥺 sorry if they got far too long or psychological sgksjak I wish you good good luck and i hope in future you may find something that is less stressful for you 💙💜))
#sorry am on mobile#bakumali#yami bakura#malik ishtar#bakura#marik ishtar#malik#marik#thiefshipping#bakumali hc#yugioh#ygo#icouldbesus#ask#*#ziggy talks
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NSFW Alphabet
Please do not steal or repost my content. Reblogs are welcome.
Smut and mentions of sex toys ahead.
Masterlist
A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)
Steve is the King of aftercare. Anything you want, you will get. As soon as you are done he’ll hold you for a minute. Staying inside committing the memory in his mind.
Then he’ll get up clean you up. Sometimes, if you’re up for it, he gets turned on by your fucked out pussy and plays with it for a while. But most of the times he cleans you both up before snuggling you whispering sweet nothings, holding your hand, kissing you everywhere and making sure you know just how much he loves you.
B = Body Part (Their favorite body part)
Steve is the furthest thing from vain. He doesn’t think about which body part he loves the most on you. He loves all of you. He won’t say no to seeing your curves in a nice dress every now and then though.
He’s fascinated by his biceps. People compliment him on them all the time and he gets why. He loves how small you look in them when he holds you.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)
Depends on how he’s feeling that day. Sometimes on your ass, sometimes on your titts. But mostly he likes to cum inside you. Especially if you’re walking around with him inside you, it drives him wild.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory)
Steve loves how small you are compared to him. Even if you are a big girl, he will always be stronger than you.
It all ties back to pre serum Steve. Who couldn’t even protect himself now can protect you from most things and take care of you in anyway he can.
E= Experience (How experienced are they?)
Little to none. He’s most likely a virgin. He’s been waiting for the right partner for a long time.
That doesn’t mean he’s bad at it. Far from it. He has a photographic memory and is quite intuitive he becomes a sexpert by like the third time. He’s just one of those people who’s naturally talented at it.
F= Favorite Position
Steve is a sucker for missionary. It’saIt classic for a reason. It let’s him see all of you. He loves how he can pin you down with his weight or hug you close to him by pulling you into him, all the while he’s fucking you into the mattress.
He also likes cowgirl/lotus. Both give him free access to your titts and ass. Also there’s just something about watching you using him to get yourself off.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)
He’s usually pretty serious. Sex isn’t just a fun activity for him. It’s a way for him to worship you and express his love for you. He wouldn’t mind laughing here and there but he’ll be sure to turn those into moans.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
He’s perfectly trimmed. Those Captain America suits are very tight, you can’t have a jungle growing down there. He’s a shade darker than his Golden blonde hair.
He doesn’t have a preference for hair on you. But he does expect some hair. So if you’re someone who likes to shave it all off, you have to warn him or the poor thing will be so confused.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)
So romantic. Actual sex isn’t even the main event. There’s plenty of leading up to it. Maybe a nice dinner, some scented candles, massages, flirting, showering you with compliments. Hours of amazing foreplay. Lots of eye contact while doing it.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
He doesn’t usually jack off. But sometimes he just can’t help himself. Maybe he saw something that reminded him of you or he just got impatient. He’ll do it quickly in the shower where he isn’t likely to get caught.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
He occasionally likes being called captain. Especially if you scream it at the top of your lungs or whimper it out in a breathless moan.
Being the captain brings a lot of responsibilities and weight on his shoulders. Not when he’s with you. You don’t expect him to be perfect. He can just let loose and let his wild side take over. It amazes him just how the context of the word changes for him. Besides being your captain is much more rewarding
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
At first he couldn’t even think about doing it anywhere but in your bed. But then doing it in a cramped supply closet or on a quinjet a couple of times bought such a rush of adrenaline. He still prefers your bed where he can take care of you the best.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Small touches from you. Let it be just a graze or softly stroking his thighs. He picks up on your teasing quickly. You saying anything mildly sexual will turn him on. Anytime you want it he’s up for it unless he’s really tired. But hey sex is a great way to relieve stress right?
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He doesn’t have many turn offs. He’ll be willing to try anything at least once for you. But he won’t do anything that seriously hurts you.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Steve loves both. Usually he doesn’t like being the centre of attention, except when the attention is coming from you. But if he had to choose one he’d go for giving. The mission to accomplish while having sex is to please you. He’ll make sure you cum at least twice, maybe more.
He spends at least an hour to get you ready for him by then he’s desperate to just be in you.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)
It starts out slow and sensual but then gets rough and passionate. When you say things like ‘Fuck me harder' what else is he supposed to do but lose it?
Sometimes he likes to slap your ass just to add to the roughness of the situation.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
He doesn’t care much for them. He’d rather properly make love. He likes quick foreplay. Like that time he pulled you into a bathroom at a party and fingered you before stopping just as you were about to come. You called him an asshole but he took good care of you when you got home.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)
He’s a huge risk-taker and usually up for any kind of risks. That’s how he discovered just how much he likes the fear of getting caught.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)
Because of the serum he has a refractory period of like ten seconds. If you’re up for it he can go for hours as many times as you like. There are many days you limp while walking because of him.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He loves using toys. Be it to blindfold you or tie you to the bed while you beg him to let you touch him.
He especially loves when you use your toys to make yourself cum and tie him up. All he can do is watch. It’s a sweet torture. He doesn’t last long, you have wasted a lot of money on handcuffs broken by him. Is there a way to get vibranium handcuffs?
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He loves teasing you so much. He realised the longer he teases you the harder your orgasm will be. He’d kiss you everywhere but where you need him to. He’ll take mercy if you absolutely can’t handle it only to tease you some more.
He’s low key very needy. He can dish it out but can’t take it. He gets too impatient if you tease him. That’s part of the fun though.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Not very loud. A few grunts and moans here and there but for the most part kind of quiet. Mr ‘language' Rogers curses, takes the Lords name in vain while cumming or when you clench around him. He does like it a lot when you’re loud.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
I’ll give you two.
Steve loves cock warming. Maybe he’s working and feeling needy, he’ll just call you and ask you to sit on his lap and warm up his cock. Being inside you is one of his favorite things. Sometimes you’re just watching a movie cuddling, you’ll ask him to slip it in you just to keep it safe and warm. You’re both too tired to actually make love so it’s the next best thing.
Steve loves seeing pastel or white lingerie on you. They can be simple cotton panties but if they’re white or pink they’re so dubiously innocent looking. Because he knows just how dirty you can be. He likes ripping them off of you. He gets really lost in the moment sometimes.
X = X-Ray (Let s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Let’s just say he’s so big he has to have his pants tailored for him. Most likely cut because his Mum was a nurse.
He’s long and thick with some prominent veins. Most of all he’s got a beautiful cock. You have no problem telling him that and although he blushes when you do he likes hearing it.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Very high. He thinks about it a lot. He has long intricate fantasies especially when he’s stuck in a boring meeting. Thinking about you just calms him down. No matter how bad his day is going he gets to see you, maybe make love to you at the end of it.
Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He doesn’t need as much sleep as a normal person and he has trouble sleeping. Usually he’s up for a long time after you’re sleep. Listening to you breathing, playing with your hair or braiding it before he dozes off.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers headcanon#steve rogers x oc#steve rogers fic#reader x steve rogers#steve rogers alphabet#steve rogers angst#steve rogers drabble#steve rogers fan fiction#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers head canon#steve rogers headcanons#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers reader insert#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x ofc#steve rogers x you#steve x reader#steve x you#chris evans x you#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x reader#marvel x reader#marvel x you#alphabet
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why the hive fckin suck at its job: a rant
spoilers for tgwdlm ahead!
first of all, it's important to consider what exactly the hive's job is. my answer is... who the fuck knows. literally. what is the hive's aim. what do you want Paul? more like, what do you want hive? let's find out!
it kinda evolves, as the play progresses. the intial aim of the hive, and one that does actually remain consistent is the constant burning need to grow and devour and gain more and more (insert capitalism metaphor here).
however, this is distorted by the people it possess who influence that aim, as we'll see later.
also the fact it crashes into a theatre displaying Mamma Mia gives the hive the motive it need to fit the world around it to the structure of the musical. having no originality of its own, the hive instead just picks up what is given to it. kinda like an evil baby.
it wants uniformity, that is indeed its ultimate goal and desire, no duh. it thinks it can achieve that through musical theatre, shame that the hive is dead wrong. cause the hive fucking sucks at its own job / aim / ultimate purpose / one concrete goal that motivates all its actions.
can't maintain control over its subjects
okay, so, the hive wants uniformity. it wants everyone to be dancing to the beat of its own tune. right? yeah. shame it literally can't keep its own possessed subjects in line at all. at the risk of sounding like the 10th doctor waxing lyrical abt humanity for the 50th time, humans are really difficult to control cause we're not really motivated by an altruistic allegiance to one primary good. we've got icky emotions that often move us to do stupid unpredictable stuff way more. it makes me wonder if the reason the hive wanted to use musical theatre to try and persuade ppl was cause it seems to think that is how theyll get emotive humans; through emotive songs. anyways. let's look at some examples shall weeeee?
Mr Davidson:
so, Mr Davidson. funnily enough, he's the guy whose in part acting as the hive trying to figure out what it wants through his interactions w/ Paul. every person it possess gives it just a bit more humanity and curiosity abt the world it is currently taking over. at least I think so. hence why as the musical develops u get character's like possessed!Alice wondering 'why does it hurt to love?' - the change in music and mood to something much more introspective really suggests to me that the hive is beginning to question the thoughts and emotions of its human hosts.
Mr Davidson is a family man through and through, he loves his wife Carol. she's his muse, his source of light. his feelings for her are not concrete or easy to explain and solve - hence why his sudden ahem demand of her is so hilarious and also jarring. it completely clashes with the 'I want song' which is simple, and often pushes forward a wider cause. not so with Mr Davidson, he just really loves his wife man. enough to break a frickin alien possession.
tbh I think its hilarious that (at least to me) the hive has to force him to forget and continue with the song, like, he straight up is just talking to his wife in that phone call, talking, not singing. so, no possession until he reverts back into song. ergo, the hive cannot maintain the uniformity it wants. even from the get go when theoretically its control should be stronger cause it has less ppl to co-ordinate. bad. at. its. job.
Paul:
this one hurts folks. yes, I know it's generally agreed, though somewhat debated that the state of Paul by the end of the tgwdlm is not purely possessed. I agree. once again, the hive is unable to truly enforce uniformity.
at this point, the motives of Paul and the hive are kinda just mixed, neither fully human nor fully alien. hence the constant shifts between pleeing for her to get away, to hide, to stay safe: 'what if the only choice is you have to sing to survive' and just full on old style hive nastiness 'let me puke in your mouth and just open your food bin girl' (so romantic 🥰 /j).
the hive has gone away from its original aim, and become something... different. no longer stuck to just one type of genre or style of song, it's really clever to show the developing complexity of the hive by showing how it is now juggling lots of different motifs with references to all the old songs from before recontextualised in a new way - its learning. evil baby... no longer uniform.
general miscommunication:
there are several instances of the hive not fully having uniform control over its subjects. for instance, right after not your seed with the three teens having to like... calibrate. they aren't just completely connected then?? also, this is a very small thing, but uhhhh at the end of inevitable when Paul is about to say the apotheosis is upon... the chorus interrupts him with USSSSSSS. interruptions??? not very in sync of u hive.
I think this inability to exert uniformity is also shown in the contrast between genre of musical theatre. my alien abomination cannot decide whether it wants to be the more modern edgy rock musical (join us (and die), not your seed ) or super happy go lucky old style musical theatre (lah dee dah dah day, and inevitable). it tries to do both, even while trying to encourage union, and sticking to one thing. hypocrite!!!!!
2. aims are guided by the people it possess
so, I mentioned this a bit already, but the hive isn't only mutating the humans, the humans are mutating the hive right back. this is more an interesting observation than any actual analysis but let's goooo.
greenpeace girl:
I think it's very likely that greenpeace girl is one of the first to be possessed. This is probably easily debunkable but whatever this analysis is flying by the seat or its pants anywayyyyy. why? cause where else would it pick up that whole 'this planet needs fixing' thing? it's interesting too, cause it morphs from expressing the desire to join hands and sing together, unity and peace with no actual action behind it. this then goes right to the other end, with the hive going 'fine I'll do it myself' and trying to save things by enforcing a dictatorship on the world. it develops and changes, and strays from its original means of accomplishing its aims! speaking oooooof...
3. inconsistent in means of accomplishing aims
okay, ur an evil hive mind. u think musicals are the way to win over these silly humans cause they're all weak and emotive and seem to respond to them. but, wait! schwoopsie! you haven't realised that for emotional depth and growth to mean anything, you need there to be established development and well... growth. otherwise the sentiments are as vague as the ones expressed in What Do You Want, Paul?
this show has genuine emotional moments, just not really during the musical numbers WITH EXCEPTIONS. any strife is smoothed over quickly, and so the development and change that would have to go into such growth is just gone. (see, You Tied Up My Heart) all so it can achieve its own desire to grow and grow and grow, maybe a metaphor for art being killed under late stage capitalism??
what actually matters is the impact the songs have afterwards, in causing a death - because we have a bond and care abt these characters. those short scenes between Paul and Emma are actually way more resonant than any song. except... inevitable, and also not your seed a bit. at this point the hive has learnt a thing or two, and can actually twist human emotion a little. but for it to do that, it has to reject the uniformity it prizes, and be adaptable. point towards being more human than it first thought? methinks so. and yet it's just not enough...
it's also why let it out, to me, feels really ingenuine. Paul has expressed himself in much better ways already. what they're doing is clearly paining him, and hurting the guy. he's terrified bless.
you can't force someone into being emotional vulnerable, man.
it's why all the deaths for the characters who are forced to express themselves are really violent, involving them being ripped open - literally forcing them to expose themselves from the 'inside out' as Alice reflects in Not Your Seed. you can't force genuine emotional connection, it has to be fostered, shown in the much more affecting relationship of Paul and Emma. the only reason the hive actually has power over our characters is because of these genuine emotional connections, which it tries and often fails to take advantage of, resulting in just resorting to brute violence. messy hive, very messy.
at the core, the musical's a kinda attack on that toxic positivity mindst: trying to force people to reach the sort of easy solutions by sharing feelings in a way that feels pretty invasive and deciding you are instantly fixed. the problems these characters face are jarringly not really what you'd expect a character in a musical to face, cheating, a lot of it, mid-life crisis. problems that are bland, or wayyyy too real. this is purposefully done, to reveal just how silly the hive's aim to use musical theatre to solve everyone's problem is. life is more complex than that smh.
4. a human can write a much more expressive, and genuine song than they ever could lol
u know which song I'm talking abt. what more is there to say. so much for making persuasive songs to tempt people over.
5. make me sad cause they took some perfectly nice ppl and funked them up 😭
this was a stupid point lol. basically I'm just bitter that this hive took a bunch of perfectly okay ppl and gave them hive brain. screw u hive. I swear I'm gonna watch Black Friday soon, cause I'm sure it's gonna completely destroy every thought I've had so far, but whateve,,, just take this as a look at tgwdlm like it's a stand-alone piece.
these guys are supposed to all be 'individuals' on one level, but also 'appendages of a much larger organism'. there's a little too much individualism and fracturing to be cohesive enough to do that I feel. the hive to me is not an infallible, unstoppable force, in fact, every human it takes over only brings it closer to understanding us. so that's maybe a slight positive note??? idk ?! I just have lots of thoughts and feelings abt this musical even if this doesn't make sense I'm proud i wrote it down hehe.
#tgwdlm#the guy who didn't like musicals#the hive tgwdlm#cw: swearing#sorry i swear a lot when im passionate lmfaoooo#more a reason to attack the shet out of the hive for ruining a perfectly ok town#paul matthews#speculation#my hcs#this is like#part joke part serious analysis#long post#im so sorry#emetophobia warning (its referenced a bit)#this might make literally no sense im so sorry#i have too amny thouvjfs#i have too many thoughts#head full all thoughts#my gifs#gifset
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