#RAW. HAIR PULLING. PULL OUT GAME? DOESN'T EXIST

[ragnarockz]

[zelcii]

can you write headcanons for a love triangle with Gally and Minho????

omg i didnt see "write headcanons" im so sorry

unspoken | gally and minho

“i shouldn’t be jealous—you aren’t even mine,” minho muttered, his voice rough, gaze fixed on the ground like he couldn’t bear to look at you. the words had a sharp edge, but there was something else behind them, too—a hint of expectation, like he was trying to pull sympathy out of you. 

“seriously?” you just stared at him, frustration bubbling up under your skin. 

you cross your arms. “you brought me out here just to talk about… that?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it felt tight, ready to snap. “this doesn't have to be some big thing, minho… you know i didn’t ask for any of it.”

minho and gally had always had it out for each other, a silent competition that could never be resolved the easy way. you personally never saw it as a problem until a few months ago, when their rivalry began to feel increasingly aggressive, and an unspoken tension started to build whenever you were with them. but that’s all you hoped it would be—unspoken. it wasn’t until recently that they (mostly minho) started bringing you into their mess.

his jaw clenched, and he let out a slow, frustrated breath. “no, i get it, alright? it’s complicated. but pretending this doesn’t exist—that what we have doesn’t exist is useless!” he took a step closer to you, his hands waving around as he tried to prove a point. “i can’t just stand around and act like i don’t love you, and you know gally feels the same way. we’re just… waiting.”

you huffed out in frustration.

“but there is no we!” you threw at him with the same level of desperation. you could see his heart sink as you said it, but a flicker of anger sparked up in its place. “how am i supposed to pick between you two? this isn’t some stupid game, dude!”

just then, you heard footsteps, heavy and deliberate, and you didn’t even need to turn to know who it was. 

“what’s going on?” gally’s voice was low and tired, but firm, that serious look in his eyes. he glanced between you and minho, reading the room instantly.

“just more of the same,” you muttered, refusing to take you heated gaze off of minho. 

“the least you can do is answer—,” minho started.

“but she doesn’t owe us anything,” gally interrupted, his voice steady. he looked at you, then at minho, before meeting your eyes again. 

“you don’t owe us anything,” he repeated, softer this time. he sighed, casting a glance at minho, and made a small motion as if to say they should back off.

"no, no—you don’t get to just show up and act like the hero, gally,” minho shot back, pointing at him. “don’t act like you’re not just as tired of this as i am."

gally sighed and took a step closer to the both of you, his eyes searching yours, softer than you’d ever seen. 

“it would… be nice,” he said quietly, almost reluctantly, and for a moment, he looked less than the stubborn man you’d gotten used to. “to know if i even have a chance...”

you looked at the blond as if he had just betrayed you, and he couldn’t meet your gaze. “you’re both unbelievable…”

then gally met your gaze almost hesitantly. a pang of sympathy hit you. there was something almost painful in the way he looked at you, like he really was struggling with what the whole ordeal was doing to the three of you. with him, you always felt grounded, like he’d be there no matter what. he didn’t push, he didn’t make things harder for you. 

and part of you wanted to reach out, to tell him that, of course, you cared about him, but you couldn’t because at the same time, minho was right in front of you.

he was all fire, raw and unapologetic, and behind the anger in his eyes was something that pulled at you—a need, a desperation, like he’d do anything to be the one you wanted. he needed you to see him, really see him, and you’d feel horrible for the rest of your life if you chose to ignore it.

then minho sighed sharply, running a hand through his hair, and you remembered why you felt trapped in the first place. “don’t put this all on us,” minho murmured. “you’re acting like you can’t just pick and get us out of this mess.”

“minho,” gally cautioned. 

but that was it. the frustration boiled over, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. “shut up, minho!” you snapped. “‘cus i can’t just pick one of you, why don’t you get that!” 

why can't you just understand that I didn't want any of this? I never asked to be caught in the middle of whatever is happening between the two of you, and I definitely didn't want to be in a position where one choice could make me lose one of you!"

gally’s face fell, wishing he’d never gotten out of bed when he heard the two of you outside. and minho just stared at you, like he hadn’t expected you to actually say it, to put it out there so bluntly. but you were done holding back, done pretending that all this tension wasn’t wearing you down.

“if you guys can’t handle whatever it is you’re feeling, that’s on you,” you said, voice low. “but i’m not choosing either of you. and i’m not gonna stand here, waiting for the two of you to grow up.”

without waiting for them to respond, you turned and walked away, leaving the two of them standing there, silent in the glade. and with each step, a little weight lifted. you didn’t need to be anyone’s answer. if they couldn’t handle that, well—that was their problem.

i can't write headcanons even if my life depended on it, i'm sorryyyyy

[beyondthebackup]

[Carefully folded, a delicate pink note tucks itself between the tree's undulating seams. The ripples of bark, communion ash against the blushing paper, a meek sail cresting dark waves blissfully unaware of its existence on the periphery of an expanding whirlpool, a crater left by bruised knuckles. The note reads:] "I daydream of reciting bible verses in backless Sunday dresses, brushing my fingers through your hair as proverbs pour out of me. I would shiver against your lips pressed lush and hot between the valleys of my unguarded virtue. I want you to kiss me so hard that I bruise like bitten fruit, I want you to sink your sanguine carnality into me, divorce modernity and pretend we are in some distant century, sincere and snarling into each other's skin - my muse red in tooth and claw, my savage love... You could infiltrate me so tenderly, daring my will to resist this pull from God with your succulent serenade. My voice would grow small and sharp as a misericord's blade, glinting promises of mercy asking you to slip it between the petals of my armor, all that's left to guard sense from sin. - ♡"

The early morning jogs began as a necessary staple of B's training regimen.

Victory is less about raw strength than it is about stamina and endurance, his trainer told him, if you can outlast your opponent in a fight, you win.

B defeated A in the athletic realm a long time ago, that was undeniable, and yet it wasn't enough. The envy rolling A's eyes whenever B showed off, the pounding of his heart betraying fear as B pinned him to the ground again and again and again until it was insisted that B spar with someone closer to his skill level...

Ah, the humiliation was palpable. It was an amazing feeling.

Alternative even lowered himself to a full-scale retreat, begging Roger to remove him from the class because he couldn't handle it.

Now, the early morning jogs are something B does of his own volition when he is in the mood and the weather is tolerable, to keep form and assure Alternative that in this avenue he would always be inferior.

On days like this he is usually awake before anyone else, which is what makes the odd little sign of human activity in the form of a pink note in a tree particularly eye-catching as B slows to a stop in front of it and catches his breath.

This is the tree he used as a sandbag and passed on his usual route around the orphanage. Still, besides that gaping wound he left in its trunk, it is one unremarkable tree in a sea of many. That note could be meant for anyone. B plucks it from its perch anyway, immediately thinking of the previous letter he discovered in his desk and reads it.

The letter could be meant for anyone, but twice is quite the coincidence.

Trained to be a detective from the time he was small, that glaring focus takes over and he almost doesn't take the time to enjoy what the letter is saying.

Almost.

Sunday dresses?

---------- Obelus Yoriko Umbral A ----------

Though Obelus is Catholic and the only person on B's mental list he's seen carrying a bible, he has a baffling insecurity about his bare arms and taking off the stupid flannels he wears all the time. B still intends to compare their handwriting, but unless he's playing some elaborate game (which B feels he is too lazy for) it is highly unlikely that Obe is the author of these notes or interested in wearing backless Sunday dresses. Besides, if he wanted to fuck, he'd just say so.

Even more than the hunger inherent in the delicately penned words on the page, B is struck by one thing in particular -

My voice would grow small and sharp as a misericord's blade, glinting promises of mercy asking you to slip it between the petals of my armor, all that's left to guard sense from sin.

B recognizes the blade from books he read on the High Middle Ages years ago.

Specifically, that it was meant to be a last resort - to kill your enemy during a struggle, or kill a knight with a fatal wound to gift them a more painless death. Usually with the aim to pierce the eye, the brain, or the heart.

It's a morbid way of putting things.

Whoever this person is, they consider their situation dire. The note says so itself - sin and death.

Whoever they are, there's a reason why they're hiding behind pretty little notes.

B smirks to himself. He's having fun.

He pockets the second note, and resumes his jog.

[Lavender Note]

[Pink Note]

[Blue Note]

[beedreamscape]

YEARNING HOURS HAD TO SPILL THIS OUT // PERSONAL

What a thing it is to want. A desire to reach into the familiar of what my eyes see, yet my hands are none the wiser.

To look at your lips and your teeth and somehow know, physically, how kissing you would feel like taste like. Your body under my clawing hands, your hair against my palm.

The cadence of your voice is different, i always forget how sweet and young you sound. You don't know how young you still look to me who doesn't know how to act my age because I too get lost in translation of the reflection I catch in the mirror.

My God, you're so beautiful. You're not what they showed me in the magazines or the movies or the photos in the social medias. Why haven't they shown me the glory of you?

You say Kid, I'm pushing forty, I can't play in whatever game you've set me into. I'm my own tale of desires, I can't be yours.

Let me kiss your cheeks and hug you, lemme confuse you in what I want from you, from this... i want your body, i want your eyes fixed on the shifting of bones beneath my skin, i want your laughter against my nape, and your hips... how i want them.

I want every inch where your body is imperfect, i want my teeth printed on it

I want you smiling with teeth showing. I want you laughing loud talking louder and sharp. I want you in a flowy dress dancing spinning existing loudly i want your feet bare on the grass i want a strap falling of your shoulder i want the crack of something popping between your teeth

I want you in a dress so tight you have to pull it up all night I wanna watch the sweat dripping down your nape I want you being just a little mean to me. I want your manicured nails skimming my cheeks calling me adorable saying all the things I can't fathom own my own

The way I want you is so dirty and so secretive so raw I can only picture it with eyes closed.

[deartouya]

DUMBASS ANNIVERSARY — KATSUKI BAKUGOU

you drag your exasperated boyfriend to a botanical garden in december to celebrate your anniversary, then quickly regret it when you remember that december is very cold. luckily, katsuki is very warm and doesn't mind you leeching off of him.

★ pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

★ word count: 1,351

★ content: fluff, established relationship, lots of swearing from bkg, very cheesy flirting, reader + katsuki's anniversary is december 6, a shameless pride and prejudice quote (love me most ardently).

it's not december but this is based on the fact that my hometown made the very smart decision to open a botanical garden in december and me and my friend visited. written for @rinphoria 's lover's lane collab !!

Katsuki didn't even remember how you got him to agree to this. He's always hated the cold, breeze nipping his skin raw and his breath sticking to his cheeks. But you did—this had been your bright idea, even if no one would be able to tell. You had practically dragged him out of the apartment, it'll be fun, Kats! You'd quickly grown to regret the decision. The garden was void of most other people, normal people, who knew that December was too cold a month to be visiting a botanical garden.

He tips his chin as another hard gust of wind blows through the garden, ruffling both of your hair and sending a violent shiver down your spine. Katsuki pins you under a sharp stare before tucking you tighter under a heavy arm. You accept the opportunity and press against his chest—warmth finally seeping back into your hands. He flinches at the press of your nose against his throat, but warm hands find their way to your back nonetheless—pulling you closer in a futile attempt to get rid of non-existent space.

"Who picked an outdoor date for December?" You grumble, pushing further into his neck, "whoever they are, they're dumb," warm breath cools against the tender skin of his neck.

Katsuki scoffs unhelpfully, eyes rolling gently as he continues rubbing up and down your back, "aww, don't be so hard on yourself, dumbass." His lips press into the pinch of your brows, smoothing it out, "they're the ones who decided opening a garden in the middle of winter was a good idea."

You huff indignantly, trying to burrow deeper into the soft cotton of his scarf. "It's cold," you whine, words all muffled by skin and fabric. His lips quirk into a soft smile at the noise. "Why'd you have to ask me out in December, huh?"

"First of all, December's always cold, baby. You forget that when you refused to put on any more layers?" He shifts into a comically high-pitched voice, "I don't need a scarf! I'll be fine, Kats—it's not even supposed to be that cold."

You pull away to glare at him, annoyance completely squashed by the soft smile he's wearing, "and if you wanted a spring anniversary, you shouldn't've looked so cute in that damn santa hat. Maybe then I would've waited a couple months to finally ask you out." His cheek nudges your temple, lips brushing the skin, "c'mere, angel." You huff once more, breathing into his scarf, before you nestle against him.

Katsuki cups your hands between his, pulling them to his lips—warm breath spreading to the tips. He keeps them clasped firmly between his own over-heated hands as you walk, lips finding your temple. The full force of his warmth washes over you. You let out a quiet, contented chuff as you slack against him. His stupid little lovesick smile grows.

"Thank you, baby," you breathe, grinning into his chest. "Don' know what I'd do without you."

"Perish." He scoffs softly, scowling as you jerk back to glare up at him, "tch—stay still." Katsuki flings a scarf over your neck, warm hands brushing your throat as he fits the ends into a knot, tucking the material into your coat gently.

"Where'd you even get that?"

"Home. I knew you'd need it," he answers softly, glancing back at the garden, "you gonna finish your dumb as shit game now?"

Katsuki's nearly taken aback by how quickly your mood changes, nodding against his shoulder as your eyes start to wander. "I spy with my little eye... something... green."

He groans, throwing his head back and eyes falling shut, "how many times do I gotta tell you, you can't keep pickin' the same damn tree over and over. Gonna give me a damn headache."

"It's not a tree this time! Promise!"

"Is it a fuckin' bush?"

The glare Katsuki levels you with has you withering, thunking your forehead back against his collar, "okay, okay, fine. I spy with my little eye something... beautiful."

"Y'know, that doesn't really seem like a fuckin' colour."

"Go along with it, blasty."

"Beauty's pretty damn subjective." He rolls his eyes, but still tips his chin to look around, "orange flowers over there?"

"Too pukey," you refute, ignoring his rough sigh.

"The lights on the trees?"

You have to lift up from your warm little cocoon in his arms, "too busy." You can feel his urge to rub at his eyes, brows pinched together and lips pressed firm.

"Sweetheart," the way he breathes out the word, tired, is the closest thing Katsuki gets to whining. His head falls to rest in the crook of your neck, digging his face into the skin.

You laugh, fingers running through the short hair on the back of his neck, "come on, Kats, keep guessing. You're almost there! I can feel it." Your grin widens as he lifts up to scan the park once more.

He seems to come up empty handed because he huffs once again and looks up at the sky, "I dunno, the sky?" You watch him with a grin, the sky—stars barely having breached the muddied colours of late afternoon.

"Too ugly."

"Huh? Ugly?" Katsuki baulks, looking up quickly before staring down at you as if you've grown an extra head, "insulting nature, now? What's prettier than the literal fuckin' sky, dumbass?"

Bouncing onto the balls of your feet, your smile widens, "you give up yet?"

"If I knew that was an option," he grumbles—still looking over the garden one last time, "would've given up a long damn time ago."

"Ah, no you wouldn't. You can't stand to lose."

"Not fuckin' losing anything—it's a stupid kids game."

"But you are giving up, then?"

He sucks his teeth, glaring down at you, "I guess."

Your face splits into a smile, hands wrapping up in his scarf to yank him down, leaning forward so your noses nudge against each other, "you, Kats." The reaction is immediate, a dramatic groan and eye-roll, pushing his face against your throat in an attempt to hide his flush.

"Shut up."

"Awww," you laugh. "But I'm trying to court you, baby. Is it working? Are you feeling wooed? Sought after? You're so popular now, gotta make sure I keep you interested in me."

He groans again, nipping softly at your pulse point, "you're so annoying."

You let out a dramatic gasp, one that nearly startles him back straight, "I can't believe you! After all I've done for you!" You can't keep a smile off your face, curling back into his body heat. "Well," you huff, "have fun spending the next December 6th by yourself."

"Oh, angel, but I already have the trip booked. Guess I'll have to find someone else to hole up on a beach with for two weeks, then." His tone's all soft and teasing, one that he usually saves for inside your apartment. He must've decided that tucked between two rose bushes was secluded enough.

"Mmm, maybe I can stick around for one more year," you whisper teasingly, chin resting against his chest so you can peer up at him. He huffs, chin tilting back out of your reach. You laugh softly, rolling up onto the balls of your feet to cup his face. Your lips press against the flat of his forehead, the round of his nose, along the wisp of his lashes, before finally slotting against his own. You retreat back to flat feet to let your mouth smooth against his sharp jaw and the line of his neck before you're tucked back away into the safety of his neck.

"Oi, where ya think you're goin'?" He shoulders you within reach, lips pressing over the expanse of your cheek before locking back onto your own. "Not so brave now, huh?" He teases, littering bites along the length of your neck, "don' know what I'm gonna do with you, angel."

"Love me most ardently?"

Katsuki groans, palm coming to cover your face to push you away from him, muffling your frantic laughing, "shut up and die."

TAGS: @izukus-gf , @dinodumbass , @tipsyangels , @uwuthatshit , @akaakeijii , @sugarmaplewings-fics

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Ib (Malleus Draconia)

Thank you for 1000 followers! Hope you enjoy the Horror Event!

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

Horror Event Masterlist

Requested by the lovely @sleepybeanmal

I'll admit that that particular segment of the game scarred me for life, and I'm so glad it was kept pretty much the same in the remake (even though I don't like the remake as much as the original and I hope people will play the original too)

"Let's play a game! Find the key, find the key! Who has it~♪"

Fuck!

Fuck fuck fuck!

"Ok. Ok. Breath. Breath and move!"

You take shaky deep breaths, jumping over a doll or two to get the one near the wall. You rip its stomach open. A dead bug greets you. There's not even time to scream, the room is getting colder and you can hear the claws of that monster scraping on the painting's frame. You throw the doll away, grabbing another. You rip its stomach open. Hair greets you. Disgusted, you throw it away and walk—practically jump to another doll.

Why they gotta be so far from each other?

Why their fabric needs to be sew so tightly.

You grab the disturbing doll. It giggles. You rip open its stomach. Your fingers hurt already. Paint coats your skin. You throw the doll away, and have no time to question if the little overjoyed whoop you hear comes from it or your panicking mind.

The thing in the painting is already peeking its head out. It stares at you with unblinking red eyes, round like portals to hell. It smiles at you with a ripped smiles, mocking and taunting and expectating. So so so so very very very happy happy happy that you're playing with its friends, and so so so very very very impatient impatient for its turn to arrive.

You grab another doll. Your tears fall on its disturbing head. You rip its stomach open. A small blade cuts your finger. There's no time to react, there's no time to process. You let the pain bleed out with the fear in your tears. You grab another doll. Your blood gets smeared on its disturbing head. You rip its stomach open. The key greets you.

The sound of a large body hitting the floor greets you.

There is no time.

You grab the key and you cry out in pain and you cry out in fear and you throw the doll away and you jump over the other dolls and you run to the door and you shove the key in the keyhole and you open the door and you feel the air behind you shift and you hear a clawed hand hit the floor and you feel arms pull you and you hear a door slam and you scream.

"My love, it's me!"

Malleus' voice reaches you in between your desperate screams and suddenly said screams turn into sobs.

You're alive. You escaped.

You cling to your boyfriend like a lifeline, not caring that you're soaking his clothes with tears and probably snot. And Malleus doesn't seem to care either, hugging you tightly like you'd disappear otherwise. Only after your head starts hurting and your throat gets raw that you notice your shoulders are not the only ones shaking.

"... Mal?"

"Oh, beloved, my one and only, the one I've loved and shall love beyond the concept of existence…"

"Shh… it's ok, Mal, I'm ok, see?"

"I apologize, you're the one who went through that hellishness, and yet I selfishly beg for comfort… but when I heard your terrified cries, I thought– I couldn't– I–"

He squeezes you a little before finally loosening his grip, just enough so you can look at each other's faces. There is a constant stream of tears running down his face, eyes red and puffy. You two certainly make a matching pair, and the thought makes you smile a little.

"It's ok, it's over. We're together again. Though, I do hope you have a bandage."

"I've taken to keeping one or two on me ever since Silver joined us. Where are you hurt? I shall take care of it, meanwhile, you rest. I'll find a safe room for us to stay."

You close your eyes, leaning on his chest. You know he'll see your finger when he inevitably looks you all over for injuries, so for now you allow the heat of his love to erase the cold of that terrible room.

There is time.

[strawberry-nugget]

𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 | E.Kirishima x Reader

Pairing: Kirishima/ reader, Bakugo/ reader (mentioned)

Summary: You shouldn't want him and he shouldn't want you, it's sinful and forbidden. But he can't help coming back to you, and you can't do anything but take him in every single time. Until today that is.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Aged up characters (twenties), NSFW 18+, plot with some p//rn but it's not very detailed, unprotected sex (please use condoms everyone), cheating, casual penetrative sex, jealousy, the seggz is pretty vanilla though

↪A/N: tennis player Kirishima, tennis player Kirishima, idk how I came up with it but I can't get it out of my head, written for @doinmybesthere 's 3k event collab and based on The Hills by the Weeknd, don't be shy to tell me if you liked it, I almost wrote 4k in a day which is unusual for me

5.30pm [Missed Call: Red]

5.31pm [Missed Calls(2): Red]

The bubbling notifications are spamming your phone, each call, succeeding the other in persistence and length, making your phone crawl onto your coffee table in restless buzzing. To your salvation the device is on silent; you're just unable to bear the overwhelming sound of your ringtone echo through the empty walls of your apartment, to let it bounce between concrete like a slimy ball, only for it to hit you on the face with tremendous force.

It's one of those days that you can't answer Kirishima. Too perplexed in the wields of your mind, blaming yourself for this horrendous situation, delivering raw swears at him for simply existing.

You don't know how it came to this nor when was the exact moment things switched. Was it at the party that you met him? Or the thousandth time you took him in and let him ruin relationship after relationship. Either way it was horrible for not only you, but also him, and all the people that have been caught up in the sidelines of this rotten affair.

You shouldn't want this anymore and truly, you don't. You're tired of being the second choice, of hiding behind your little finger, crying yourself to sleep at night, only to put on a sultry face for every time he comes. Once, twice a month.

[New Messages: Red]

Babe, you there?

Read 5.38pm

[New Messages: Red]

Babe I got practice at 8.

I know you're reading those.

Read 5.39pm

[Red is typing…]

[New Messages: Red]

I'm outside btw

A fresh, tremendously sharp wave of anxiety rushes through you at the little notification -it can't be like this again, not today. The thudder in your chest is unbearable, heart too weak to stomach the weight of your decision, fingers too reluctant to type out your response.

He's probably smirking while staring at his phone, not a single care in his head. It's loathing to your mind as you confirm your speculation, shooting a glance out of your window, landing your eyes on his car.

He shouldn't be here.

His thousands dollar car doesn't belong in your urban street, not in your side of the town. And it's so dangerous that he's doing this to see you. You've played the worst scenarios in your head a thousand times, millions of headlines on sites and the news about this; Eijirou Kirishima, on his way to claiming a fifth Grand Slam, caught in affair with university student.

Atrocious, degrading, exposing. A hit to his career that would bother the media for a couple of weeks and paint your name in mud along the way.

Why can't he just be content with the model that he's with? You're nothing like her, not as pretty and you don't have her body, you don't have her face, but he still says he finds you better, says he knows you better, but he just can't be with you.

[You]

Can't do it today

Sorry

You're good to yourself, only when you deny him and only when you feel the satisfaction of being the one to do so. It's pointless to sulk over saying no. He can go fuck other girls, play with their hearts and leave you to your otherwise peaceful life. Even if it is just for today.

You don't have the chance to let a smile creep to your face when your doorbell rings. The jiggling sound bursts into your eardrums once and twice, three dreaded times and they're enough to make your stomach churn, your neck tight and your skin ache.

You contemplate on opening the door for him, subconsciously letting yourself feel like a vulnerable prey, who, after running away to save yourself, is choosing to walk into the wolf's den, so willingly that you can feel yourself drifting away with each step you're taking towards the door.

"Babe,"

The swing of your door handle, the crack of your wrist, the creaking of your door as it opens to reveal him; they're all embarrassing. You can't tell if they fall short on his ears, too caught up in the way he looks -all swollen muscles and tall legs. You're running out of courage to say no and he knows this.

He's not as innocent as this cheeky smile frames him out to be, he's not the sweetheart everyone wants him to be either.

He's Eijirou, who's selfishly standing on your door, who's barging his way in your apartment, who's grabbing your cheeks and slamming your face in his, biting your lips until he draws blood, just to punish you for standing up against him.

Your door is slammed behind him, one bend of his knee and it's falling into its rightful place. To shield the sins of your affair, to bring you comfort and privacy as he attacks parts of your neck, your chest. Places that only squeeze perfectly under his touch.

"Babe," He calls again, in between soft kisses. "What's gotten into you?"

You frown and try to look away, past his cocoa colored orbs, past the swelling that's taking over his lips -and yours- with a numbing, tingling sensation.

"Eijirou—"

"I don't have much time in between training, I got a game the day after tomorrow."

It's always like this, you know. He doesn't have to tell you twice or try to excuse his own self for what he does or how he acts. You're pushed between schedules, or slammed into his timetable like a truck when he feels like indulging with you again, hidden between the lines of his free time.

You're sure at this point that it's the thrill he's after. The sinful taste of your lips on his, how he feels in control while chasing after you, when you can't keep up with him.

His lips don't taste like sour cherry anymore, but you let them wiggle against yours with triumph, you let him want to catch his breath as he pulls back and you put the minimum effort in returning the passion you receive.

You pull back, ignoring the words he's whispering against your face, only to take in his features once again.

Soft black hair pulled into a low ponytail, spiky bangs that fly all over his face and his tips drowned in a fiery, foxy red. The only reminder for who he was before his tennis career blew up. For who he was before he turned into this cocky womanizer whom you're desperately after with a longing heart.

"I'm just not in the mood today."

"Well let's get you in the mood then huh?"

He smiles, nose scrunching and chapped lips hiding behind his gums as his hand moves to your thigh, tagging your shorts with furry. As if he's desperate to have you, right here and now. As if bending you over the couch will help put out a fire in him. That's how he always convinces you to keep this going.

He's making you feel like not having you this way is insufferable.

You're buried in the crook of his neck while being pushed onto the couch, nibbling a soft spot that you've found, rubbing his skin on the top of your tongue. You know how to do this without leaving a mark, you can hold back from wanting to take all you can get from him.

But today it's different. It's going to be the last time.

It's not like any other time you've told yourself that you are going to end this. Today you're going to leave a mark, you're going to bite your way into his skin and drink from his poison -the intimate attention he's only ever willing to give- and you'll get drunk in it.

"Fuck," He grunts against your lips. "Fuck, don't stop that feels good."

You don't stop, eager to listen to him, to breathe into his neck before you wrap your lips a little lower and closer to his collarbone. You should be asking if this will cause him problems, but gone is the guilt that veils your coinsense otherwise. You suckle on a spot and then another, stealing his groaning moans one by one as they fall from his lips, plushing them softly in a spongy part of your brain, where they can rest forever, until you've forgotten them.

"Get your shirt off Eijirou," You plea, ogling eyes watering from the pressure that's applied in the apex of your thighs and he's quick to follow your command, lips curling upwards in a sweetheart smirk.

You're going to miss the way the apples of his cheeks cover his eyes when he smiles like this. But there's no going back for you and him.

With legs that feel like burning rubber you hug around his horse, watching the way his muscles flex and fold with his snappy movements. His shirt, tousled and wrinkly, tossed in an unknown corner of your living room, only for him to guess where it is after he's gotten his fix of you.

Thick fingers probe at your sides, pulling your shirt downwards in a silent plea, take off your shirt, give him the satisfaction that he wants, indulge into this as much as he wants you to.

But today, you're not in the mood for this. So instead of pulling your shirt off, you unbuckle your pants, pulling them down at the most dreadful speed, making him bite his lip impatiently.

You won't miss this, the way he's expecting so many things of you.

And if he notices something's wrong, he doesn't say a word, presumably content with getting what he wants; the rear view of the gap between your legs, where he can bury himself and get lost for the next thirty minutes.

"Fuck baby," he moans. "Why do you smell so good?"

You grunt, averting your gaze from his as he pushes your bangs away from your face with the back of his hand. You want to miss his puppy eyes. Ghosting him won't be easier for you if you don't.

But damn if he couldn't read you this well, things would be easier.

"Not in the mood to talk?" You look even further away to avoid the question, "babe, you can tell me if you're not well, you'll feel better if you let it out"

You don't need someone to tell you how to feel. You've decided when the two of you are going to be through. It's set and done, even if he feels at the top of the world right now, you won't inflate his ego anymore.

"M fine Eijirou, put it in," You bite his lip, putting huge effort in making him forget about what he thinks it's bothering you. "Want you to put it in m'kay?"

Sultry, fake voice, he's heard it all before and he doesn't have the right to call you out for it. Whatever he does next, you're his for the moment and for the last time.

Repeating is your rightful way of convincing yourself of not giving up on your decision. If only he could have broken up before deciding to wet himself in you, if only you hadn't taken him so eagerly, if only you hadn't become just like him. Welcoming him despite availability status, afraid to lose him, saying that a little sex wouldn't hurt. If you could do this on repeat, then you could get rid of him quite as easily.

You're not better than him and he's taken your vulnerability to him for granted. He's loved the attention you've paid him from time to time, whenever he's given you so much as a mere call.

You should pretend to moan, to hurt his ego, but as he's delving into you, slowly, mellowy, his kisses feel like burning sunshine, August breeze against your skin, kissing your shoulders lightly. It hurts that this salvation is coming from his mouth, as it moves rhythmically against every inch of you.

"Fuck, fuck, ah, you feel so good, you know that?"

You don't answer, nor do you wrap your lips around him. You don't move them against his when he goes to kiss you, but you coo into his warm embrace once his hands come to cradle you in a tight embrace.

"I love you," He slips up and you contemplate on whether you have to start hating him from this very moment. "I just wanna be with you, I—" He grunts. “—this is why you don't believe him, but nonetheless you hold a moan in as well. "Fuck, I'll break up just for you.”

Now that's a new one. A new addition to the long list of red flags you have with his name on top. You can't fall for it. You absolutely can't. If you do, he'll treat you just like this, he'll fuck behind your back and kiss you goodnight before going off to sleep with someone else. Like he's slept with you, once, twice, thrice.

And you're going to hate being the one who's fooled, despite deserving it more than anyone else. And another girl, or guy, is going to be his subject of desire.

You shouldn't want him to be yours, but you're lewding your 'I love yous' out of your mouth like they're nothing, poisoning your heart until there's nothing left but dust and sucked up blood, all devoured by the greed he's made you feel.

"You love me too?"

"I do," You cry, rocked between him and the couch, neck hurting by the way he's digging his teeth in yours.

"I'll fucking leave everything for you babe,"

He shouldn't. He won't. You tell yourself he's only saying this because he wants to come, to make you feel dirty with his actions and fish out words that make him ecstatic or send him over the edge from your mouth.

Rhythms are peaking, his hips burning from his movements, foreheads are dripping in sweat, lips taste salty against each other. The perfect picture, the most tingling sensation, and you're too fucked to go back, or keep yourself content with him. It feels the same as the last time, a numbing knot in your stomach, commanding you to rip your heart out and throw it away, spooning mewls out of your mouth.

If you could, you'd mute him, not wanting to listen to how beautiful he sounds as he's coming down from his high. If you could, you'd look away, and wouldn't try to burn the image of his body as he's falling apart in your mind.

"That was—" The sigh that leaves his chest through his mouth is liberating, you can tell—"amazing. I still love you, so much babe."

His hand soothing the pain of his thrusts, does nothing to make you feel better. You want to shove it away, but you don't, unhappy with the way you're turning out to be.

"It's time for you to go, Eijirou, isn't it?" You remind him. A hand pushing him off of you and quickly smoothing your T-shirt over your legs to deprive him of the view that'd make him wear a smug of triumph.

"So quick to get me to go. Did you find someone else again sweetheart?"

You don't reply as you're putting on your underwear and pants, shoving his shirt into him with a heavy hand.

"You did, didn't you?"

"None of your business, go off to your practice, your girl, don't patronize me anymore."

He gruffs, beautiful features scowling in that stormy gaze that reeks of his authority, "Here I am pouring my heart on you and you found someone else"

"Eijirou, it's seven thirty, if I were you, I wouldn't be late for practice. You got a game the day after tomorrow."

No more dealing with his pouting, you're going to bawl your eyes out if you have to do it. The sooner he's out of your house, the sooner you'll get this over with; the tight lamp in your throat, the image of him smiling at you like this, him admitting feelings that he shouldn't have.

Hurting him isn't the role that suits you. Because you can't do it. You can't hurt that warm sunshine he has on his face. He has to be the one to hurt you like he's been the one to drive you away. It's too late for him to change or reverse your roles.

You don't want to fight and he knows it.

He knows you, so well, well enough to use you as he wishes to, letting you believe you're using him too. You're going to make him watch you slip away, and he won't do anything about this.

So he's eager to leave as you're pushing him out of the door, he doesn't cup your cheek with his hand, and doesn't kiss your forehead tenderly like he always does.

"You should come to this party Mina is throwing, let me meet your new guy."

Like hell you'd ever do this, he knows, but teasing won't hurt a bit. Eijirou can deal with you dating other men, he's claimed you well before, he'll do it again if he has to, especially now that he's decided to have you.

"Yeah yeah, and if I do, don't ever call me again, 'kay?"

You're too good to not do as he says, or not to fall back to him, and he's too good to not come back to you. To him, you're a match made in heaven, to you, you're a lost cause, burning in the fiery pits of hell as atonement for your sins.

He doesn't know that you'll fall apart before dressing up, how you'll tell yourself you're not doing this for him, but as a statement against him.

You're no better than him, in fact, you're worse.

…

The only problem is, that when Eijirou pulls up at Mina's party after practice, you're already there. Drink in your hand, flared jeans hugging your legs, layered tank tops that cover the bruising truth of this evening, laughing at whatever your friends are saying.

When he puts out his phone, calloused fingers furiously typing a text addressed to you, you're too far gone into another glass, dancing a little dance before grabbing everyone's cups to go for a refill, greeting them in that silent way of yours, drunken smile.

And then you'll pass him by and blink at him, you'll mutter a small greeting and he'll grab you by the hand and whisper in your ear just how hard he'll take you driving the night. You'll swoon, moan, forget about the drinks and follow him anywhere he leads you.

That's how everybody knows about the two of you.

This time, though, you don't cast a single eye on him. In fact, you're tainting him, walking past him while ignoring him, leaving him awestruck and hurt, like his confessions earlier in the day meant nothing to you.

It's a hit to his heart, how your jaw drops as you bump into Bakugo over the kitchen counter, eyes too wide at the sight of him. How your finger dances playfully on his chest and as you smile at him when he whispers something in your ear.

It's infuriating how you drop the cups near the sink and follow Bakugo outside, or how the blond waves at him with a pressed smile against his lips, signaling that he'll be busy for a while.

His insides churn, tummy aching in a feeling of guilt, one unlike anything he's felt before. Losing you doesn't taste in the way he thought he would, it's worse; sour and poisoning. It makes him flee the party, furious and bitter.

When he's back, his body is heavy, feet dragging him across his apartment, mind blank as he follows his basic routine before bed time, fixated on how easy it seemed for you to just ignore him and flee with one of his friends as soon as he came over to the party he invited you to, wondering how you could be so ruthless with him all of a sudden.

Sweet talking Kirishima with a smile of gold, the sweetheart of the professional Tennis scene and you're over him in the split of a second, pushing him away from you without an explanation or heart wrenching speech. Not giving him the satisfaction of some closure, just forcing the cold tempo of your sudden departure in the depths of his heart.

He pays no mind to the girl that sleeps beside him, back turned to him like she's oceans apart, despite the unspoken bound that's keeping them together. He'll leave her, make up for all the damage that he's done, in any way that he can manage to.

It all comes down to the fact that no one can love you like he does, no one can want you like he does. Someone can do it better, but you have to want him.

5.30am [Missed Call: Red]

5.31am [Missed Calls(2): Red]

[New Message: Red]

Fuck, with Bakugo out of everyone?

Delivered: 5.31am

[New Message: Red]

Did you have sex with him?

Babe answer me.

Delivered: 5.32am

[New Message: Red]

I'm breaking up with her tomorrow morning.

And I'll come over.

Babe.

Babe please.

Delivered: 5.33am

[New Message: Red]

I'll take you on a date and we can talk about us okay babe?

Let me know when you wake up.

I love you.

So much.

Delivered: 5.38am

Read: 10.23pm

[You]

(Attached Image)

Sorry 'Red' even if you sound like a total douche, cheeks forgot her phone at my place.

I bet on her answering your late night drama when she takes her phone back.

[Red is typing...]

Super thanks to @celestidarling for proofreading this and giving me the biggest pump of confidence to post

↪Up Next: Dragon King Bakugo

[summonerscenarios]

How would the summoners react to finding MC crying in the guild house? And when they ask why he's crying, he tells them because he doesn't have parents, a home to go back to, and that he feels lonely.

Aaaaand we’re back again with the pain train~! honestly i live for things like this cause honestly it lives in my brain rent-free. Who knows maybe we’ll find out who the MC’s family is, but till then lets have a lil bit of anst to fill the void~

----------------

Shiro

You were alone in the guild house for a long while, long enough that when Shiro hadn’t heard any word from you since you went inside he began to wonder what you were doing in there. He considers leaving you be for a little while, maybe you were resting up? God knows you’d been through enough that a nap in one of the safest places you guys know doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea. But then he decides better and heads back to the guild house to check up on you - something didn’t feel quite right, so he’d rather rest the unease that’s filling his head and see that you’re there for himself. But then he opens the door to the guild’s main room, and the sound of wailing floods his ears like a mourning cry. He knows that it’s you, but he’s never heard you cry like this before - yes, you’ve cried, both in front of him and when you’ve thought no-one was around to catch you in a moment of weakness - but this time is different, he knows that from the tone of your voice. He sees you sobbing on the floor, head facing downwards and fingers woven tightly into your hair grip painful as your body rises and falls at every uneven cry that leaves you. Shiro can’t stop himself and shouts out your name with a gasp and your head snaps up to look at him, face red and cheeks wet from tears a testament to how long you must have been here crying on your own. You begin to say something - some kind of excuse to wave off the obvious tear streaks and red-ringed eyes - but he’s crossed the room before you can think of something witty, dropping to his knees and placing a hand against your back. As though sensing your distress, a few of his D-evils appear like they’d been summoned, waddling into a tiny circle around you climbing over onto your lap and reaching up to you with tiny hands and sorrowful shrieks - you didn’t know unintelligible babble could sound so sympathetic, and the sight of them brings a watery, somewhat bitter smile to your trembling lips as Shiro begs you to tell him what’s wrong.

He tries his best to be comforting as he listens, rubbing circles into your back and cooing to you softly telling you not to push yourself, but once the words start flowing you couldn’t stop them if you tried the emotions all bubbling to the surface as clear as raw wounds burned into your flesh. You tell him about what’s hurting you - the anguish of waking up every morning and realizing that you don’t have anyone from your home; no parents, no siblings, no family to speak of. You’ve been trying to keep it in for so long, to forget about it and pour your focus into the life that you’re building in Tokyo now, but every passing day you just receive brutal reminders about just how alone you are. The pain is clear behind every word, as you recount every moment where you’ve seen students calling their parents, meeting up with their siblings and going out to visit family members for holidays; if it wasn’t for the life or death situations you keep getting dragged into you’d be spending all of those holidays alone while everyone else goes to spend time with the people that they love - you’d be all alone, just like when you’d first woken up. And that….that terrifies you - you just want to know if there’s anyone out there waiting for you. Is that really too much to ask? 

He’s been fortunate with his own upbringing, having his parents only a phone call away; even though they were almost always busy with one thing or another he didn’t have to think twice about them not being there.So many things have happened since you’ve appeared in Tokyo, so many changes, and you stood on top of it all, seemingly unstoppable and unshakable by just about anything this world decided to throw out of you - you seemed invincible. So invincible that sometimes Shiro finds himself forgetting that beneath all of your powers and death defying feats you’re still you - a teenager, a student, a friend - and yet you’re the only one like you, with no family to call you own and no one to even reassure you that they were even okay out there, or out there at all. And he sees it only now, looking at you wiping uselessly at your eyes trying to temper the tears that continue to fall; you’ve been struggling with this for so long, all on your own, and Shiro kicks himself for not seeing it sooner.

Tentatively, Shiro reaches out, using his thumb to catch the tear hanging from your jaw. You look up at him, expression so lost and pained that his heart bleeds for the emotions swirling up in your eyes like a storm but he wipes away a few more tears before pulling out a cloth from his pocket and pressing it to your cheek, watching you lean against it and moving to take it from his hands. You don’t get to it first, instead three tiny clawed hands reach for it at once, pressing it back against your cheek and rubbing in a sloppy rhythm trying to dry up the dampness of your skin. Both you and Shiro look down where the D-evils are piled atop one another, the three that have their fists curled up in the handkerchief looking so concentrated that you let out a hoarse laugh. It isn’t enough to make you feel better, but the sight of them working so hard to stop your tears breaks the tension that had been building just a bit. Shiro mulls over his thoughts before he speaks, picking his words carefully. While he may not know the kind of things you’re dealing with in regards to your family, he tells you that you have a home here. Shiro knows that they can’t replace the parents or siblings you might have out there, but you still have people here who see you as one of their own, as an irreplaceable member of their family hose days you brighten just by existing. And you also have a home amongst many of them - and nowhere is that more apparent than with the Summoners; they’d never be the same without you, and he’s sure the others would agree with him when he says that they’d do anything for them. He hopes above all else that once this game is over you’ll get  the answers you’re looking for - whether that’s being reunited with your family or just getting closure on what happened to them. Shiro really wishes that it’s the former, as he can’t even think about what could happen if you learnt that you had no blood relatives - but even without blood tying you all together, the Summoner’s are there for you if you want to go out and find that answer and he reinforces above all else that you aren’t alone in this - you’ll face this as a team, altogether.

Kengo

Kengo hears you weeping and that’s all it takes for him to near enough kick the door down in a bid to get to your first, and you practically choke on the sobs bubbling uncomfortably in the back of your throat startled at the sight of him charging into the guild house. You must look like a sight, as Kengo practically bristles with alarm when he looks at your face, contorted in agony and soaked in tears both shed and unshed as you fight to compose yourself. He thinks that someone’s responsible for you crying (which in a sense is right on the mark), you figure out as much when he demands that you tell him who hurt you, to pointed him in the direction of whoever it was and he telling you that he’ll sort it out for you before you know it. But when you laugh bitterly and say that if it your troubles could be fixed so easily you’d have done it the moment you’d gotten to Tokyo Kengo freezes. Even though you’re still crying you look angry - angry at something bigger than just a person - and Kengo knows then that something’s really up, something he might not be able to help with.

And yet he still sits down next to you and tells you to spill what’s happening - even if you don't know what he or anyone else can do about your issues he wants you to at least get it off your chest and you guys can go from there - hell, maybe talking about it will help you see what you’ve gotta do more clearly, it’s happened before. But maybe he should have thought before he’d said that, as a new wave of tears burn at your eyes, and you blink them away worrying your lip between your teeth as you try to find the right words to say, or rather, how best to explain what you’re dealing with without bursting into sobs again. There’s a few moments of silence, where you stare pointedly down at the floor willing your throat not to close up on you when you finally begin speaking and confide what’s been eating away at you for longer than you can remember. You don’t know when it started, when you no longer felt safe or comfortable in your dorm room, when your heart would clench at the sight of families milling about Tokyo’s streets going on with their lives without a care in the world. You don’t know when, but ever since you recognized it was there everything felt out of focus, like the rest of the world worked at one angle and you were just slightly off kilter, enough that you felt like the odd one out - a puzzle piece that didn’t fit into any of the puzzles you’ve found in Tokyo thus far. It was just annoying at first, something you could pretend to shake off and fake till you make it, but slowly, oh so slowly it started to dawn on you. That ‘puzzle’ you were trying to fit into was family - something you didn’t have, and you couldn’t even remember having any to begin with. Would it make you feel better knowing if anyone was out there? You have no idea, but the loneliness of not having someone like that around has been gnawing away at your insides until you felt like a hollow husk, the holes being filled by anger and grief until there was nowhere left for it to go but out of you. And it finally had, you’d broken, and Kengo had been right there to see it all happen, like a car crash in real time.

Kengo really doesn’t know what to say at first; his own family dynamic is pretty tumultuous to say the least, and he doesn't talk about them often if he can help it. So when it came to you and your whole lack of memories/family, he just kinda assumed that you didn't care too much about family like that, you just didn’t let it bother you - but apparently you did, because the idea of someone being out there was something you could only cling to for so long, and the cracks in that armor were tearing chunks off of your carefully maintained facade right before his eyes. He’s at a loss for words and he hates it, and you can see it in the way his firsts curl up against his legs, nails digging into the palm of his hands as he sticks you with a pointed stare. He tries to keep his mouth shut until you’ve got everything that you wanted to say out there, but when you suddenly choke out that you’ve got no one and curl up into yourself he all but jumps in and tells you to hold on so harshly that you flinch on instinct, eyes blown wide as you look at him for some kind of explanation.

His voice is firm when he declares that family ain’t about blood, surely you’ve seen first hand that that’s the case, right? You’ve gotten plenty of people who would do anything for you, who would live and breathe and fight so that you can live your best life and pursue your goals. And if you need an example you’ve got a hell of a bunch of em right in front of you - The Summoners have cried, laughed and shed blood sweat and tears together, going through more ups and downs that would have broken some of the strongest family units - but not you guys. If all that doesn’t make the Summoners the best shoddily formed found family anyone could find within Tokyo’s walls, then he doesn’t know what to do. Your family’s right here for whatever direction you’re planning on taking; where you go, they’ll follow, after all, someone’s gotta make sure you’ve got the right people watching your back right? And if your path is to go out there and look for the family beyond Tokyo’s borders then they’ll be right behind you then too! He knows it ain’t gonna be easy, and that the answers that you find may not be the ones that you’re hoping for, but whatever you wanna do they’ll all be by your side when you make that decision - cause that’s what family does! He just hopes you aren’t planning on going without them though, cause he’ll be damned if he isn’t stubborn enough to follow you across the world so you aren’t along on that journey!

Ryota

Ryota panics at the sight of you crying on the guild floor when he stumbles in. He’d had a feeling that you weren't feeling too good but he really hadn’t meant to stumble upon you like this. On more than one occasion you’d confessed that sometimes when you’re feeling down you just need some time for yourself, to sort out your thoughts on your own, and while Ryota didn’t feel right about you being upset all on your own he’d promised you at the time that he’d keep that in mind and give you the space that you need should it ever happen. But seeing you now curled up on the guild floor, pounding at the ground with your fists as howls of grief tear through the silence of the room he just can’t turn around and leave, he just can’t. He’s by you in an instant, arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly as you immediately twist in his hold and grab fistfulls of his shirt, pulling tight as you bury your head against his shoulder crying until his shirt feels wet with your tears. It takes a long while before you calm down enough to find your voice again, and even then it takes a few times cringing at how sore your face feels as you pull away from Ryota and look up into his face. Ryota tries to give you his brightest smile, as though hoping it will be enough to get you to smile too, instead more tears blur your vision and you have to force yourself to look away, staring daggers at a spot on the far end of the room until the white noise in your head clears and you no longer feel like you’re going to break down in his arms again. He’s almost scared to ask you what’s wrong, but the question topples out of his mouth before he can think to stop himself, and he feels and sees you tense as though steeling yourself for the upcoming conversation. You don’t have to answer, you’re sure Ryota would let you forget about this whole thing if you really wanted to, but you do, letting the words seep out blunt and to the point.

 When you talk about your family and home, or more accurately lack there of his heart breaks. You’ve been thinking about it so much recently that it encompasses your every thought - it keeps you awake at night and finds a new part of your consciousness to burrow into until you feel as though you’re going to have to pry your brain apart with your own hands just to get those damn thoughts to stop. It’s not as though you even have family to remember, but somehow that just makes the pain even worse and you feel sick whenever you try to wrack what few memories you have, desperately searching for some kind of link that will help you piece together who you truly are and coming up empty handed each and every time. He can’t imagine having nowhere to go back to, no family to turn to when you need a hug and a reminder that you’re loved and here; and having no knowledge of where you’re from or who’s out there waiting for you on top of all that? It’s a wonder you’ve been able to keep this all bottled up for so long. Or maybe you haven’t bottled it up at all, and no one’s taken any notice of what you’re dealing with up until this point - that thought makes him feel guilty, although he knows that there was really no way he could have known. Sure the thought had crossed his mind, but Ryota had thought that you would have told him if it really was something that was hurting you like this. 

He’s still holding you, hoping to comfort you through holding you as close as possible as he tries to encourage you. He tells you not to give up hope just yet - he’s sure that they’re all out there just waiting for you to come home. Whether they’re right around the corner or far away h’s sure they’re missing you just as much as you miss them, and he knows nothing’s going to stop you from going out and finding them - when you put your mind to something you fight until you achieve it, you’ve shown it time and time again, and this time is no different! You’re going to find them, if anyone can it’s you, he just knows it! It may hurt to imagine them out there not knowing where you are or what's happened to you, but you know that Ryota’s trying to remain hopeful for your sake - he truly believes in you, you can see it in the way that he looks back at you with such ernest conviction that you feel as though you’re going to start bawling all over again. But you don’t, instead fighting back the emotions simmering back to the surface as you give him a smile, strained, but enough to convey to him that his words got through to you.

He doesn’t stop at just comforting you though. He promises that he’s going to help you find your family, to find the place that you called home no matter where it is (even though the thought of parting ways with you physically pains Ryota to even think about) And he’s not the only one who would help you find them. The other Summoners and the rest of the friends you’ve made on your journey would do so at the drop of a hat - they’re all going to help you, and once this is all over you can introduce them all to each other! He’s already talking about all the kinds of stories your parents must have about you, all the stuff they can share that would probably make you both laugh and get embarrassed hearing about all the silly stuff you did when you were younger. It’s a bittersweet thought, but coming from Ryota it almost seems feasible again, like this isn’t just some long lost dream that’s out of your reach but something you can actually go out there and do, just like you always have. But even if you don't know where your birth family is, or where to even start when it comes to the search, you’ve still got a family right here - afterall you’re all like one big family, right?

Toji

Toji hears you crying before he opens the door, pausing just shy of holding the handle as he catches the sound of your muffled whimpers coming from the other side of the door. It’s a pitiful noise, like a wounded animal, but there’s a raw emotion behind it that he immediately knows that it’s a cry of real, primal pain. His fingers flex against the handle, contemplating whether he should go in there and confront you or to just leave and give you a moment to bear your soul without the threat of being disturbed, but he knows that he just can’t leave you, your voice nags and tugs at his very soul, pulling his body to grab the handle clutching it tight. He takes a deep breath to steel himself and opens the door, and as your crying turns into full on sobbing no longer muted by the door that separates you the sound pierces through him as though you’ve stabbed him. There’s an uncomfortable silence between you when you turn and realize that you’re no longer alone, and you turn away just as fast, trying to play it off and saying that you didn’t hear him come in as you wipe inconspicuously at your eyes with your sleeve attempting but failing to pass it off as sneeze. When you dare to look back at him Toji’s expression is serious as he stares at you, and you’re trying to gauge how far you could get away from this moment if you plowed past him and ran away when he asks you what happened, voice level and careful to mask his emotions on the matter in favor of being upfront with his approach. He watches your eyes dart to the door behind him, where he sees them red as a testament to just how long you’d been left alone like this, but then after a moment or two you shuffle into a sitting position, gesturing to the space across from you as you try to work out exactly how you’re going to broach this topic when he moves to sit down in the direction you’re pointing to.

He gives you the time to find the words, patient and not pushing which you appreciate as you open and close your mouth a few times. And when you do start to explain, to talk about the thoughts that have been plaguing you for too long to remember, he listens the whole time, silent in favor of giving you a chance to get it all off of your chest. You try to keep it brief, but you’ve been keeping this all to yourself for so long that you’re rambling before you can even worry about oversharing; you confess about how lonely you’ve been feeling, a though you can’t connect to anybody like the others can, and just how alone you are with no family to even remember let alone even talk about. You want to hope you have someone out there, but if you have you there’s nothing to remember them by; no keepsake or photo to hold close and remind you that there’s someone out there waiting to welcome you back home, not even memories. You only have your dreams, fabricated imaginings of what your family could be like, but all they do is leave you sobbing, waking up with arms outstretched trying to reach out for the people you can’t get to so many times that it makes you sick to think about. Every thought pours out into the open, like a broken faucet of words and thoughts and ramblings until you finally catch yourself and grind to a halt, casting a nervous look over in Toji’s direction. He’s quiet when you finish and look back at him, still looking at you intently, and you feel as though you’ve severely overstepped when his voice breaks you out of your train of thought.

The aspect of family is unfamiliar to Toji - with no parents or blood family to speak of he feels as though he’s not the best suited to comfort you, and yet he understands the thoughts that you’ve been suffering with, in fact he understands them far too well. Those long nights of wondering ‘what if’ have come to him at certain times throughout his life, especially when he was younger. What if things were better? What if my family was here with me right now? Would they protect me? Guide me? Remind me that there’s always a home to come back to? It’s enough to keep anyone awake, and he’s sure that you’ve dealt with similar nights of being lost to your own thoughts. He dislikes the thought of you having to battle with those questions like he has, and he’s sure you’ve got even more concerns you haven’t confided in him yet - he’s not going to push you, but he can tell from the expression that you cast him that there’s more under the surface, he just hopes you’ll confide those to him before it all forces its way to the surface.

Whilst he can't speak for your family, nor can he speak for those who may or may not be a part of your life, he can speak for himself when he says that whatever may come about from your search for answers he will stand by your side until you find what you’re looking for as well as long after that. You have more of a family and home here than you may realize; naturally it is hastily formed and with more than a few slip ups in the journey to reach your goals, but  the bonds that you have all forged together run deeper than the blood that runs beneath their skin - and should you ever need them when you get the answers you’re looking for you should know that they will be right there, just a call away until all of those thoughts you’ve been struggling with are quashed and resolved, one way or another.

Moritaka

At the sight of you crying Moritaka is almost immediately on guard looking for answers on what’s caused you to cry - what happened? Were you hurt? Did something occur while he was gone? But there’s no injuries that he can see, at least there’s nothing physical, but you’re crying with such a haunting wail that the noise strikes somewhere deep within his chest and the entire room seems to grow pallid at the very sound. It’s a cry of true pain, as though you're calling out for someone who won't come no matter how hard you weep or bawl; he recognizes that tone more than he would like to admit, and so he approaches the matter delicately, announcing his presence to allow you a moment to compose yourself before he steps in and walks over to you. Moritaka is understanding as he places a hand on your shoulder, affirming that he’s here for you if you need to unload whatever is burdening you, or if you just need the company; there’s sympathy behind his words, but no pity which you’re grateful for, if you had to deal with pity right now you’d probably have another emotional break all over again, and you’re eager to avoid it. When you ask him to sit by you for a little while he doesn’t hesitate to join you, setting down his things and sitting down on the floor beside you; the silence is only broken by the sound of your voice, still shaky and trembling from the minutes that you’ve spent pouring your heart out all on your own but determined to get it all off of your chest, once and for all.

He’s a welcome ear, making out what you’re saying between hiccups and sniffles, and the picture gradually begins to form as you continue to explain exactly what’s been happening ever since you’ve arrived in Tokyo. You’ve been plagued by thoughts of family and belonging, more specifically about if you really have anyone out there at all; if you had they’d be out right now looking for you, right? Surely if they cared about you they’d be working as tirelessly as you have to bring you home and prove that your existence means something to them...right? But it’s been weeks, months even, and there’s still no sign of anyone. Even the people who claim you’re family don’t actually see you, they see the ones that inhabit your body as though you’re just walking talking guess who that people force their identities upon for the sake of dealing with their own grief. If your family does find you how are you even supposed to know it’s them and not just another person who sees someone else within you? You’re sick of being called someone you’re not, and each encounter just makes you long more and more for the day that your existence, the existence of yourself here and now will be validated, whether it’s by the people who raised you, or the people who grew up with you. At this point, you’ll take any sign you can get, but you don’t have any, and that crushes you. Moritaka cannot begin to fathom the scope of what that must be like, but what he does fathom is that he knows the pain for yearning for family too well - having lost his own the thought of them still stings like a fresh wound. It’s bittersweet, a mixture of the good and bad memories merging together to make him the man that he is today - he knows their fate, knows what happened to them. But you don’t, and not having that knowledge, that closure, must be eating away at you more than words can describe. You seem to realize what you’re saying as you wipe your eyes and try to apologize for getting so carried away but he stops your apologies with assurances that you don’t need to be sorry for speaking what’s on your mind.

He tells you that he cannot imagine not having those memories of families to recall - and knowing you don't have those to call your own is a pain few can understand let alone cope with. It’s something that Moritaka wouldn’t wish on anyone, and to have one of his closest friends suffering through such a fate with no lifeline or lead to cling to for hope pains him - he doesn’t want to see you go through that, and yet it’s your reality, and you don’t have to suffer through it alone. Moritaka pauses for a moment, as though trying to weight whether he should say his next words, but then he begins to speak again. He tells you that whilst knowing who your family is may provide you the comfort that you’re seeking, family isn't always determined by blood - this is a lesson that Moritaka found himself learning from a young age with Yoshiro 

Family can be the people you choose to include in your life, those who are there for you in your darkest moments; a shoulder to cry on and a hand to pill you up. They’re the ones who cheer you on and push you to become a better version of yourself as you strive towards your goals knowing that no matter how many times you fall there will always be hands reaching out to catch you and guide you back onto that fateful trek forward. Family comes in many forms, and whilst he won't push these ideas any further as to not make you uncomfortable, Moritaka tells you that you have family here in Tokyo, closer than you may thing, and they're all going to be there to catch you when you fall and pick you back up, encouraging you on your path until you can get the answers tat you’re really seeking. And, if you’re comfortable viewing him as such, he hopes that you’ll come to see him as part of that family too.

[monstas1ut2]

Obey Me x POC!Reader!

~Warnings~

•Mature!

•Smut!

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•Leviathan•One shot•{Smut!/Fluff!/Short!}

“Loving You For Who You Are”

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How did it happen? Under a random circumstance...? By complete luck? Why did he have the opportunity to even glance your way? To him, all he was-and all he thinks he'll ever be- is a gross boy who fawns over animated females and 3D females on games. It's quite embarrassing to him honestly, meeting you like that in his odd room. He literally sleeps in a tub... and you.... were alright with that..

"I love you..."

Leviathan's eyes widened as your long nails scratched his pale back, choking out a moan after those three words were said. Your eyelashes fluttering open to meet those pretty eyes of his. He never figured you'd say such a thing towards him... honestly he never believed he'd be hovering above you in such a manner.

Feeling the inner of your darker thighs slightly against his hips watching as your wild hair came from your bonnet. He didn't mind it whatsoever... nor did he care.. he just knew how beautiful you looked, the only light coming from your lamp that you had in the corner of the room.

Sometimes, you both tend to be soft with each other... loving the way it felt more than being rough...

"M-Make... M-Make me cum, l-levi...athan..."

The way his mind raced when you moaned out his name, his hand lightly wrapping around your throat as you whimpered. The way your plump lips called for his name. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, tasting the raw flavor of honeycomb.

The way his cock felt when you squeezed around him, at this point he doesn't care much about pulling out... He wanted to be with you forever, he just hoped you thought the same.. Feeling his non existent heart pour out to you as he moved away from your lips. Moving to your neck and your ear... moaning out into it..

This boy had such adorable moans, though sexy at the same time... Your thighs lightly trembling before the white cream spilled out of your pussy.. each time he'd thrust inside.

"I-...I love you..."

As you both came together, being one once again. You lightly wrapped your arms around him and breathed out shakily. Just running your fingers through his hair a little, making sure not to harm him with your nails.

"Do you? Even when I look crazy..?" You spoke teasingly, still not having your bonnet on... though when you don't have it on.. Leviathan is always sure to place it back on your head if you needed it.

"Y-You l-look beautiful..." Leviathan said as he blushed madly, just hiding his face in your neck again. He was always pretty happy after these intimate moments, and he'd feel very good about himself to say the least...

"Thank you..."

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Right For All The Wrong Reasons Duncan Shepherd x Fem Reader (18) AU

Dedicating to @langdonsinferno for our mutual love for the film American Beauty, couldn't resist writing this concept hope you enjoy!

A/N: Used some of the main elements to the plot of the film American Beauty with some adjustments and changes. Duncan Shepherd becomes disillusioned with his existence and begins to hunger for fresh excitement in his life. As he experiences a new awakening of the senses, his marriage to Claire Underwood-Shepherd was a dead end heading nowhere but when their daughter Alexis brings her friend Y/N around Duncan's fantasies get the better of him, bound and determined to get what he wants he let's his lustful thoughts become reality when he seduces the barely legal 18 year old fulfilling his wildest desires.

Warnings: Cheating, Lust, Fantasizing, Barely Legal 18 Year Old Reader, Fingering, Masturbation, Oral (Fem Reader Receives), Virginity Loss, Rough Sex, Choking, Dominate Duncan, Submissive Fem Reader, Mention Of Divorce, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Absolute Dirty Smut

Word Count: 4,361 Words

Note: Lyics used in this fic are from American Woman by Lenny Kravitz and Beach by Mew

Duncan Shepherd becomes disillusioned with his existence and begins to hunger for fresh excitement in his life. As he experiences a new awakening of the senses, his marriage to Claire Underwood-Shepherd was a dead end heading nowhere but when their daughter Alexis brings her friend Y/N around Duncan's fantasies get the better of him, bound and determined to get what he wants he let's his lustful thoughts become reality when he seduces the barely legal 18 year old fulfilling his wildest desires.

They were always fighting. There were screams, a loud crash and shattering glass. I quickly escaped to my room and closed the door

He  was outside.

I turned on the music, so I wouldn't have to hear anything from downstairs. I brushed my hair. It was dark and long, much like raven's wings or maybe just a black veil draped over my head. The mirror reflected sad eyes of a little girl, hiding behind that veil. The veil had been put on at the very moment of birth, since my family was never a family, but a nest of cruel and uncaring people.

I went to the window and eyed the front yard. He was there, I knew it, even though I couldn't see him. Carefully I let the music carry me, lyrics letting me sway to the beat.

"It's hard to make sense

Feels as if I'm sensing you through a lens

If someone else comes

I'll just sit here listening to the drums"

I had closed my eyes. The notes flew through me like a force of pure emotion, so raw and so deep that it almost hurt. I could've stayed like that for a long time but I knew that was not what he expected.

I opened my eyes. Then I slowly took off my top, revealing the skin beneath it. There was no need for a show, he didn't want that. I didn't want that. Or at least I thought I didn't. My real wants and needs had blurred with his, making me obey him blindly. Still, he didn't force me to do anything. It was all up to me to make my next move.

I took off my bra. When I revealed my breasts, I saw a quick move somewhere in the night. He was there, watching me, I was sure of it now. I swirled a stray of hair around my finger, then let go of it. I traced the line from under my jaw right down to my waistline, feeling the breastbone, the navel and the fabric of my skirt. Then I stopped.

"The world is like you

Here time's the charm

Like a dog it's breathing

They're just as lonely

And we all make mistakes once in a while"

//Seated in the bleachers, next to the high school BAND, is a group of about twenty TEENAGE GIRLS, dressed in pale blue and white uniforms. Among them, Alexis sits next to Y/N Y/L/N. At eighteen, Angela is strikingly beautiful; with perfect even features, h/c  hair and a nubile young body, she's the archetypal American dream girl.

On the gym floor, the girls perform. They're well-rehearsed, but too young to carry off the ambitious Vegas routine they're attempting.

Duncan Shepherd leans forward in his seat.

He is focused on Y/N now. Everything starts to SLOW DOWN... the MUSIC acquires an eerie ECHO…

He watches transfiixed.

Y/N looks directly at us now, dancing only for Duncan. Her movements take on a blatantly erotic edge as she starts to unzip her uniform, teasing us with an expression that's both innocent and knowing, then... she pulls her uniform OPEN and a profusion of RED ROSE PETALS spill forth…

Y/N, fully clothed, is once again surrounded by the other girls. The HIGH SCHOOL BAND plays its last note, the Dancing Spartanettes strike their final pose, and the audience APPLAUDS.

Claire Duncan's wife claps along with the rest of the audience while he just sits there, unable to take his eyes off Y/N.

The game is long over. Y/N and Alexis come out of the gym. Duncan and Claire  stand at the edge of the parking lot. She crosses reluctantly toward her parents, followed by Y/N. “Congratulations, honey, you were great.” Duncan praised his daughter. “I didn't win anything.” She states offhandedly with a shake of her head. “Hi, I'm Duncan.” He extends his hand to his daughter's new friend. “Hi.” her voice is melodic Duncan is drawn in, though she comes across shy he senses something about Y/N, something beyond the shy front Y/N has in place.

“This is my friend Y/N Y/L/N” Alexis introduces you to her parents, her parent's looked like the high class version of the typical 9-5 office job type of couple. Claire is well reserved and has made quite the name for herself in D.C. in the political profession, Duncan Shepherd was tall handsome dressed in a $10,095.00 Giorgio Armani business suit. The 5 o clock shadow that adored his handsome face and every  hair on his head was perfectly in place, the scent of his cologne Killian's Black Phantom waived through the cool night air. Duncan was old enough to be her father at the distinguished age of 35 and though it was inappropriate Y/N already found herself attracted so strongly that it was impossible to deny. She couldn't help all the dirty overly sexual thoughts that already flooded her mind, but then again neither could Duncan despite the 17 years age difference their minds seemed perfectly in sync.

Later that night….

Y/N POV

Duncan and Claire were in bed, even in a deep sleep Mrs. Shepherd looked determined. Duncan is in that boundary between sleeping and awake he stares up at us.

A solitary single red rose petal falls slowly through the air.

Duncan's POV

'It's the funniest thing’

The red rose petal lands just in view on Duncan's pillow.

Duncan POV

‘I feel like I've been in a coma for about twenty years, and I'm just now waking up.’

More rose petals fall to the bed surrounding him, in his dream induced haze he smiles up at the almost life like vision that played out before him.

Duncan's POV

Y/N, naked, FLOATS above us as a deluge of ROSE PETALS falls around her. Her hair fans out around her head and GLOWS with a subtle, burnished light. She looks down at us with a smile that is all things…

**********************************************

A few days later Alexis brought Y/N over after school, it was Friday night the initial plan was a sleep over and girl time.

The two were in the living room in front of the large screen streaming music videos from YouTube. “Oh, shit. They're home. Quick, let's go up to my room.” Alexis clicked the tv off tossing the remote aside. “I should say hi to your dad I don't want to be rude.” Y/N called from behind her shoulder sauntering towards the kitchen. “Besides I could use a drink, you want me to grab you one?” “Yes there is root beer thanks.” Alexis responded hastily disappearing.

Duncan is in the kitchen faced towards the open refrigerator. “Nice suit.” Her voice rings out immediately causing him to snap at attention to face her, He is instantly transfixed.

Duncan's POV

‘Y/N leans against the counter, twirling her hair.’

“Your looking good Mr Shepherd.” There is a saying that says flattery will get you no where but to him hearing anything come from her lips would get her anywhere even if it was naked in bed with him to play out all his wild dirty fantasies. In the eyes of the state 18 is considered an adult so in all honesty it would be consensual. She slowly moves towards him, “the last time I saw you you seemed kinda wound up.”

Duncan's POV

‘She reaches inside the refrigerator to grab a bottle. As she does, she moves to place her other hand casually on Lester's shoulder. He sees it coming. Everything SLOWS DOWN, and all sound around in that moment  FADES…’

‘Her hand as it briefly touches his shoulder in SLOW MOTION. We HEAR only the amplified BRUSH of her fingers against the fabric of his suit, and it's unnatural, hollow ECHO…’

Duncan snaps back into reality, the hear and now. Y/N grabs two root beers from the fridge smiling at him. His eyes narrow just slightly with that mixture of sexy yet dangerous.

Duncan's POV

‘He cups her face in his hands and kisses her. She seems shocked, but doesn't resist as he pulls her toward him with surprising strength. He breaks the kiss, looking at her in awe, then he reaches up and touches his lips. His eyes widen as he pulls a ROSE PETAL from his mouth right before we…’

Real time...

Y/N is back against the counter, drinking the root beer. Duncan stands by the refrigerator, gazing at her, still lost in fantasy.

Later that night….

Claire  lies sleeping. Duncan is awake, staring at the ceiling. After a moment, he gets up, taking care not to disturb Claire, and walks toward the bathroom.

‘Across from us, in a PEDESTAL BATHTUB, is Y/N. She smiles and beckons us, and we MOVE CLOSER. ROSE PETALS float on the surface of the water, obscuring her naked body.’

‘Duncan leans down by the bathtub like a man in church. “You've been working out, haven't you? I can tell.” She arches her back looking up at him provocatively. “I was hoping you'd give me a bath, I'm very very dirty.” ‘

‘Duncan  gives her a hard look, then slowly slips his hand into the water between her legs. Her eyes widen and she throws her head back...and we…’

Y/N POV

‘His hands run over my body and I let out a soft sigh. I need to ease the ache between my thighs. I need him touch me, to tease me. I need to cum. Wanton desirous thoughts invade my mind. The feeling overwhelms me and I can't do anything else until I'm sated. I let my thighs fall open as he slips his fingers into my cunt. Heat envelopes them as he slide two inside.’

‘My cunt throbs with pleasure. I feel you inside me, filling me. He  slide another finger inside, greedily filling me, thrusting them in and out to keep rhythm with my hips. I lift my leg, needing him to push deep, feeling the velvet walls of my cunt squeezing tight around his fingers. My arousal surges. My legs tremble. I wonder if you can feel me. Feel how my body knows just how to respond to your touch.’

‘My clit throbs. He presses harder, stroking me. His fingers are slick against me. My body begins to succumb. I don't want to draw it out any longer. I need it too much to let it last. I need to be greedy. I need to be satisfied. His fingers move frantically over my clit. My cunt pulses harder. I feel the heat building inside me. I gasp again and a small cry escapes my lips. I can't control my hips as they buck up against his hand. My heart pounds as I feel pleasure flood my body. Hot breath rushes from my lungs as I cry out. Warmth pulses over his hand and I careen into bliss. Can you feel it?’

Real time…

Claire, her eyes wide, listening to the rhythmic BRUSH of Duncan's hand as he masturbates under the covers. She flips over and faces him, “what are you doing?” A beat passes “Nothing” he responds frustrated. Claire switches on the bedside lamp, “you were masturbating weren't you?” “Don't be ridiculous Claire I was not.” He turns his back to her letting out a loaded sigh. “Yes you were” she challenged. He turns to face her trying to appear innocent but gives up. “Alright so shoot me I was whacking off!”  Claire gets out of their bed repelled Duncan can only laugh. “That's right. I was choking the bishop. Shaving the carrot. Saying hi to my monster” Claire shakes her head “that's disgusting.” “Well, excuse me, but I still have blood pumping through my veins!” Yelled argumentativly.

Duncan's POV

‘ Claire this hasn't been a marriage for years. But you were happy as long as I kept my mouth shut. Well, guess what? I've changed. And the new me whacks off when he feels horny, because you're obviously not going to help me out in that department.’

//American woman, stay away from me… american woman, mama let me be… don't come a  hangin' around my door... I don't want to see your face no more...//

Duncan has retreated downstairs to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator he grabs a beer and starts to head toward the family room.

Duncan's POV….

‘AS we MOVE SLOWLY around a corner, Y/N comes into view, standing at the STEREO, holding a CD case. She's been crying; her face is puffy, and her hair mussed. She regards us apprehensively... then puts on a slightly defiant smile.’

‘ ‘'He leans against the wall taking a swig of his beer, “Not at all, bad night?” “No not really just strange” she replies. “Believe me couldn't be any stranger than mine” he stated with an exasperated huff. She smiles. They stand there in silence; the atmosphere is charged.’

‘ “Alexis and I had a fight…. It was about you.” Y/N admitted. “She's mad at me because I think your sexy.” Duncan grins. He is sexy. “Do you want a sip?” You nod. Duncan  holds the bottle up to her mouth and she drinks clumsily. He gently wipes her chin with the back of his hand “so are you going to tell me what you want?” He asked with an eyebrow raised. “I don't know.” It was a lie she knew exactly what she wanted. “You don't know?” ‘

‘His face is very close to yours was this really happening--or was it mere imagination… “what do you want?” She asked him her eyes locked on his. “Are you kidding? I want you. I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Y/N takes a deep breath just before Duncan leans in to kiss her cheek, her forehead, her eyelids, her neck… “you don't think I'm ordinary?” “God, fuck no… you couldn't be ordinary if you tried.” Duncan presses his lips to yours in a seductive kiss, it was wrong but felt oh so right in a variety of ways.’

‘Y/N lays back on the couch as Duncan moves in over her. He pulls her jeans off and gently brushes his fingers over her legs, then moves up and caresses her face.. He  starts unbuttoning your blouse. Slowly he eyes every inch of her skin. Duncan pulls her blouse open, exposing her breasts. He looks down at her, grinning, unable to believe he's actually about to do what he's dreamed of so many times, and then… “It's my first time.” Duncan laughs surely she is kidding right? ‘

Y/N POV….

‘ I laid down and he was sort of kneeling over me as we kissed. “You’re a lovely girl.” Duncan's voice was kind of firm. I imagined he was expressing irritation with me for earlier telling him about being insecure about my looks. I  felt uneasy for a moment. I was embarrassed that I was wearing an old plain white bra. I looked up to see if he was staring at my breasts, but he was to my surprise looking at my face. I wondered if he thought they were unattractive or if maybe he didn’t like breasts. “I don’t think you ever  did tell me.” he broke the silence. I pulled off my skirt and underwear, and then he moved his head down. For a while I stared at the wall, and then I caught a glimpse of his head down in between my legs. I wondered what he was doing.’

Duncan's POV…

‘ I was kissing and licking everywhere  between your thighs I could tell you were getting turned on. I moved on to the clitoris, I starting with gentle licking and sucking. I look up to see you “does that feel good, babygirl?” You were unable to respond but by your blissed out expression it was clear I was doing something right. “You look so hot right now, at my mercy, so young so vulnerable” I paused for a moment then I asked you, “Did any guy ever do that to you before?!” ‘

Y/N POV…

‘ “Do what?” my voice came out nervous betraying the brave front I often gave off. “Eat you out.” Duncan responded seductively. Despite the dim lighting I could see the smirk on his face. I had felt his face and hair rubbing against my thighs, it kind of tickled but at the same time it turned me on. I felt an unrelenting pressure build in my abdomen it was driving me insane. I could smell my pussy juices on his breath. ‘

‘ He moved in to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me, but I didn’t want him to think I would want something like that, so I turned my head to the side to dodge him. But he tried again, grinning big, and we kissed and I was excited by him forcing a kiss on me and forcing me to taste myself on his tongue. Then two of his fingers went into my dripping pussy and it hurt tremendously.  My eyes snapped shut and I started to moan both from pain and out of feeling an obligation to make him think I was enjoying it (and in all honestly I really was), and feeling like I wanted to excite him by moaning and groaning.’

‘ I peeked my eyes open and saw his face was right over mine, watching my reactions.  he was grinning god how he looked so sexy right then. “God, you’re wet.” he moaned. He took his fingers out and held them up to the light. They were drenched, completely covered in my arousal.’

‘ I writhed beneath him in sexual bliss, nothing mattered in that moment than how this felt, how my body responded to his. My body was a map but every inch, every curve he knew it almost like committed memory. I was made for him and he knew it, I knew that there would never be anyone else that could ever make me feel like this it was like ‘devine appointment’. He was experienced and he knew just what to do and boy he did it well. I embraced the desire to quench the sexual fire that burned throughout my body setting every nerve ending on a blazing rage of intense fire.’

‘ “Cum for me babygirl.” His voice was firm yet commanding. My body detonated. The heat that had built up inside of me for what seemed like forever  and had been centred entirely on my most sensitive areas and it burst out. Warmth and tension coursed through every vein as my heart leapt for joy and pumped my blood explosively. My skin tingled as a wave of goose bumps rode a shiver along my body stretching out to every extremity as my breath caught in my throat. I could feel fluid blasting out of my exposed and knickerless core and soaking my thighs further as an orgasm ripped through me.’

Duncan's POV….

‘ “Do you like that? Do you like I make you feel.” I own every single piece of your body, and we are attached to each other as one. I love how your skin tone matches your lips and make your hot eyes look brighter when you look me directly in the eyes telling me that you know I'm have you, I have you right where I want you. I want to cover you in marks and hickeys hearing you moan uncontrollably.’

‘ “ I want to make love to you, rub my cock on your clit, make you beg for it for me to put it inside of you. But I'm not going to until you say please daddy fuck me. Over and over again, I want to make you drip babygirl.” Your frustrated state was almost endearing, your face was flush, I heard your needy please leave your lips like a prayer. “Please daddy fuck me, I want to feel every inch of you rip me apart. I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk straight for weeks afterward.” You begged me.’

‘ “Well since you put it that way…” my body was in overdrive, in an almost inhuman speed I was out of my pants discarding them off to the sidelines. “I want to choke you while I fuck you relentlessly, I think it's only fair to warn you that this won't be sweet and slow but it will be hard, fast and deep. I don't intend on showing any mercy.” I smirk at you before I slammed into you without warning giving you no time to adjust to my size. I want to ruin you, rip you apart, test your limits.” ‘

‘ Pelvic bones got heavier, shifted somehow. Y/N not only  experiences multi-orgasmic fireworks, but a more realistic longing for the act of sex to last longer, to “feel more.” ‘

Y/N POV….

‘ When we had danced and I lost myself—in him, in the music, in the shapes on the wall—I was also intensely aware of myself physically. I felt as though my pelvic bones got heavier, shifted somehow. And when he had pushed into me on the mattress, I was wet, though I hadn’t known I would be. His warm slide in and out felt not like the intrusion, but like something that was already part of me. I hadn’t any sense of wanting him to finish: I’d reached and pushed against him to feel more. “Deeper…” I managed to call out breathlessly. I felt his hand reach up to grab my throat closing in around it with just enough pressure to add to my already heightened senses.’

‘ It’s hard to experience desire while at the same time controlling it. We were trying to lose control, I couldn't explain it but I trusted him. His dominance is merely a way to show his control, to push my limits, to break me. Would he hurt me intentionally, or cause any harm? No the kind of delicious pain I was feeling was more a way to drive me crazy, the right amount of pain mixed with pleasure was nothing more than absolute complete and total bliss.’

‘ We were moving purposefully, into and against each other, I was holding the top of the bed, my eyes falling back into my eyelids, and we were trying to follow our desires, such as we understood them, and we could tell we were close to something. I watched these images in gold and red and white as Duncan’s fingers fluttered and moved as our bodies molded into one. When my body began to tense, his understood and our bodies seemed to move like a well oiled machine, my rhythm matching his thrust for thrust.’

‘ I was waiting, craving almost desperate as I felt my release very near. No violence was committed, it was clear he desired it as much as I did, it was consensual like an unspoken agreement between us both. I was savoring this saving every last moment between us that we were sharing, I committed it to memory. I have been stripped and I entered the pit and I didn't want to ever come up out of it.’

Duncan's POV…..

‘ Y/N was poised to melt, to completely shut down underneath my touch. I owned you ever single inch. Because of the intensity of this moment we shared it was an unspoken happiness of pure sexual and wanton bliss. Her head flung back fuck she looked absolutely gorgeous. When I locked my gaze with her she was fixed on me eyes glassy.’

‘ My breathing became loud and shaky I moaned out. Our bodies were in the extremes of pure unbridled pleasure, it's like we weren't in our own bodies anymore like we were possessed taken over by desire. We worked at a deliberate frenzy to chase our ultimate release. She wrapped her legs around my waist lifting up at just the right angle allowing us a feeling that both of us enjoyed. “I am close… I….” I gave my go ahead, dropping my dominant personality just slightly “go ahead cum for me babygirl.” I coaxed you. I felt your pussy walls clench around me as your release covered my cock causing me to near my release within not even half a second afterward. We road out our orgasms and attempt to regain normal breathing again. I laid down next to you, our eyes connected both of our blissed out expressions giving us a natural high. With damn near fifteen years of marriage with Claire it was evident that the passion between us had fizzled out making the act of sex nothing more than going through the motions. But tonight with us it sparked something between us something unquenchable, I knew this was the first time but it surely wasn't the last. We had both had a taste and if it was the last thing we would ever do it damn sure wouldn't at all be the last especially if I had anything to do about it. Claire was now nothing more than an inconvenience, an unpleasantry and she would be dealt with. Our marriage was dead and undoubtedly within less than 24 hours I would see to it to have her served with divorce papers. It was time to live life my way on my terms fuck everything else because nothing or noone was going to stand in my way.’

‘ "You are as beautiful as a raven; wrong in all the ways but still the only right for my eyes." I broke the silence between us. "And you are not a dream, because if you are, then I am one too." I scrutinised her for a brief moment. After that fell the silence once more. For the first time ever I smiled at you, then looked away and the moment passed. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.’

//"It is sweet outside

Where it seems magical

And if nothing works

We'll do nothing

Save yourself tonight

Asleep in the dark

I hope we're on time"//

[imaginetonyandbucky]

AnthroAU Imagine wolf!Bucky trying to court cat!Tony and Tony not understanding at first. Bucky tries really hard, bringing him gifts and food and just being there. Tony thinks it's nice but never says anything because Cat. Bucky finds a dead bird on his pillow and is discouraged. Tony is dismayed when Bucky backs off. He thought they were courting but maybe he overstepped. The team explain that it's basically the same thing he's doing, just... grosser. Bucky doesn't understand but gets kisses.

Also Prey

“We’re not slaves to our biology, Sam,” Stevesaid. He wasn’t looking at Sam, instead he was scanning the park. How was itthat a four-foot-at-the-shoulder-with-a-metal-front-paw fucking timber wolfcould hide. In a park? In New York City? How was that even a thing.

“You might not be,” Sam said, his voicecompletely registering doubt and sarcasm, “but Tony is the most cat-like catI’ve ever met. He comes into the room just so he can prove how much he’signoring you.”

“You’re just sore ‘cause he pounces on you,”Steve pointed out. Where the hell was Bucky? He shouldn’t worry so much, butthe last time he took eyes off his best friend, Bucky had been dead for seventyyears.

“Well, it’s a lot more annoying when he does itin his wyr form,” Sam said. “I still got claw marks on my shoulder.”

Steve blinked at that. “I would think it wasmore annoying in his human form.” Steve still found it weird to be claimed, theway Tony did it, rubbing up against his teammates from time to time. Minemine mine. Except for that bit over there. You can have that.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said, brushing it off.“Point is, Tony’s feline, and Barnes is a wolf. It’s never gonna workout, and you need to tell him before Tony starts asserting himself and yourfriend ends up without a roof over his head.”

“Don’t be such a speciest, Sam,” Steve said.“After all, I’m feline, and you’re a bird.”

“Don’t give me that. I know what you were beforeProject Rebirth,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re moreavian than you like to admit.”

“Still am,” Steve said. Project Rebirth had donesome interesting things to him, given him a much larger human form, andtransformed his wyr from the scrawny little aggressive chickenhawk that he’dbeen born with into a cross between his and Stark’s DNA, making him into thefirst gryphon in living memory. Half lion, half eagle, his wyr was nearly thesize of an SUV. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to pounce on your ass, from time totime, myself.”

Sam uttered a completely charmed and startledlaugh. “You need to up your flirt game, man,” he said. “I don’t even know whatto do with that.”

Steve ducked his chin. “That’s not what you saidlast night.”

Sam shoved him, which of course did absolutelynothing. Steve was a rock, even when he didn’t have his feet set.

“They’ll work it out,” Steve said. “Or theywon’t. But I’m not gonna take Bucky aside and tell him that he can’t have Tonybecause of some ridiculously outdated notion of cats-and-dogs.”

Sam threw up his hands. “Cats and dogs, livingtogether. Mass hysteria.”

“All right, all right, I get the point,” Stevesaid. “I’ll… mention it. Or something.”

(mobile readers, ware the read more line)

Tony took the whole idea of catnaps to theirultimate expression. Mr I can fall asleep anywhere as long as it’s not bed wason the top of the fridge again. Which was all well and good for him, except healways snapped awake as soon as Bucky came into the room.

Bucky’d been trying, he’d really been trying tonot be in his wyr whenever he was in the Tower. Four hundred pounds of timberwolf was intimidating to just about everyone, but when Bucky could haveswallowed Tony by yawning, well, let’s just say that Bucky had been prettydepressed, watching Tony flee the room, his fur sticking up in every direction.

Even puffed up to full size, Tony’s wyr probablyonly weighed in at twelve pounds or so. Large for a housecat, but he wasdefinitely a second-tier predator.

Tony lazily opened one golden eye as Buckystopped dead in the kitchen door, the tip of his tail twitching. That flat,you-blink-first stare was disconcerting as hell and made Bucky want to checkwhen he’d last taken a shower. He nervously ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey, Tony,” Bucky said. He blinked, once,twice. Steve had told him that would help, a bit, even if he didn’t understandit. Tony’s eye slid closed again. “I just… was hungry.”

Tony made a dismissive sort of tail flick, stoodup, turned aaaaall the way around in a circle and curled up again, facing theother direction.

Right.

Bucky sighed. Rather than opening the fridge anddigging through it for something red and raw that would satisfy his inner wolf,he grabbed bread and some of those nasty nut spreads that the avians in thebuilding liked so much. It was protein, it would fill him up even if he’dprobably have to go hunting again. At this rate, he was going to have to dropin on a feral pack and see if he could join in on an elk run or something.

Tony stretched, arching his back. He licked oneblack-furred paw and wiped his face. His wyr form was tiny, adorable, withalmost solid-black silky fur, save for the white patch at his chest and Buckyhad the worst time with temptation. He wanted to pick Tony up and cuddle him,which Bucky was almost positive would not be well-received at all. Catswere like liquid; Tony finished his stretch and slid off the top of the fridge,landing lightly on all fours, somehow going through the shift in thehalf-second it took for gravity to catch him.

Tony’s eyes, golden-brown now, rather thanluminous, flicked from the sandwich to Bucky’s face and then he shrugged. IfTony still had a tail in his human form, Bucky would have imagined the tipflicking as he strode out of the room. Bucky sighed. Once again, he’d managedto offend, just by existing.

Maybe Steve was right. Cats and dogs just didn’tget along. Depressing.

So was his lunch. He stared down at the utterlyunappetizing sandwich. Hydra had fed him things like that, bean pastes andnutritional shakes that had no tang of blood, no hint of having ever once beenalive.

Bucky stared down at his bed.

The door had been locked when he left; he’d hadto use his thumb to open the door, same as always. No one else was allowed inhis personal space.

And yet…

Bucky looked around, over each shoulder as if hewas being watched. He never quite could get over the feeling that Hydra wasjust waiting. Nothing. Even in his human form, his nose was keen; he didn’tsmell anything that wasn’t as usual. The various scents of the other Avengerswho lived in the Tower… and now that he was concentrating. Blood. Meat, raw andstill warm.

Bucky let his wolf take him, shaking into hisfur and fangs. His spine rippled into the new form, a dark fire that burned andsoothed. His head dropped, lengthened. Hips snapped and formed. His tail sprouted,claws popped out of fingers that curled up into paws. He finished the shift,sat down on his haunches, panting. With his mouth open, smell was even greaterthan normal and he was salivating at the taste of the air.

He checked his six again, then pounced.

The freshly dead bird disappeared in threebites.

God. Meat.

He hiccuped, spitting out a few feathers.

Usually after a meal, Bucky liked to curl up andsleep, but Steve was supposed to come by later and they were going to all goout to the movies, and Steve would probably be offended if he found evidence ofdead bird in Bucky’s room, despite the fact that Steve hadn’t been avian fordecades, and Bucky had to eat, right? Whatever.

He shifted back, feeling pleasantly full andsleepy. He dumped what was left of the carcass in his trash and changed thesheets.

Bucky bent over the fabric, pulled it right upto his nose. Mostly what he could smell was blood, but under it… cat.

Tony?

“Oh, my god, no licking, Bucky, no,” Tonyexclaimed, shoving at the giant wolf that suddenly bounded into his workshop.He pointed to a spot on the floor just in front of him, rather desperate.“Sit!”

Bucky issued a short whine from the back of histhroat and then sat the fuck down like he was a damn golden retriever orsomething, complete with the little paw twitches that indicated he wanted tomove around but was too well-behaved to do so.

It should not have been charming. Really.Someone, somewhere, was going to take away Tony’s license to cat.

Tony heaved a great sigh, doing his best to lookutterly exasperated and not like this was cute, because it was not.

Bucky whined again and dropped something, whichlanded on the floor with a clatter.

“We’re at fetch, now?” Tony rolled his eyes andprodded at the thing with the toe of one designer shoe. At least he’d put it ina ziplock before bringing it downstairs as some sort of concession to Tony notbeing thrilled, at all, about dog drool. He blinked, looked at the toy insidethe bag, and blinked again. “Where did you get this?”

Bucky wagged his tail a few times, then shifted.He was a slow shifter, to the point where Tony could see the hair sinking backon his face, letting the skin show thought, until the gray and black furredwolf was gone and the man remained. He twisted his metal arm once as thequicksilver molded and reshaped itself. He probably had to shift slow, just tokeep the limb from snapping off as it transitioned from one shape to the other.Could have been worse.

Tony pressed his hand to the spot where hisarc-reactor had once been. The whole time he’d had the arc-reactor inside hischest, he’d been unable to shift at all; the palladium couldn’t transition withhim and it would have killed him to try the shift. Four years of being withoutthe bliss and ease of living in his natural skin and it nearly killed himanyway.

“Ebay,” Bucky said, and Tony blinked back to theconversation.

“This is a limited edition Robby the Robot,”Tony said, taking the slightly worn box out of the bag. “Like new.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “I missed that movie, firsttime round. Caught it on late night Syfy last weekend. Thought it might besomethin’ you were into.” He shrugged, trying to be indifferent, but it wasn’ta good look on him. He was too excitable for that and eventually leaned overagainst Tony’s shoulder to read the back of the box with him.

“Thank you,” Tony said, honestly, touched. “Whatdid I do to deserve presents?”

Bucky tilted his head. Tony was a bad person, hewas, because whenever a canine did that around him, he became unbelievablytempted to find a gramophone to shove under their ear. “You’ve been leavin’ mebirds, haven’t you?”

Tony shifted his gaze to one side. “You don’teat right,” he said. “I was worried that Hydra might have interfered with yourability to hunt.”

“Wolves are pack hunters,” Bucky said, soft. “Idon’t have anyone to hunt with, anymore.”

“You live with the apexiest apex hunter inexistence,” Tony pointed out. “Doesn’t Steve go hunting all the time?”

“I am not going to sit on Steve’s back while heflies off to some forest in the middle of Pennsylvania to eat half a herd ofdeer,” Bucky said. “I like keepin’ my feet on the ground.”

Tony finally looked over at Bucky, met thosegray eyes. He blinked, slow and easy. “Well, if that dislike of travel doesn’tapply to cars, I know where there’s a really nice rabbit warren, just over thebridge on the far side of Jersey. I can chase rabbits right to you.”

Bucky lit up like someone had offered a kid anice cream. “Oh, really? Would you, that would be swell!”

“No licking!” Tony took a hasty step backward,then, as Bucky’s face fell, he put a hand on the man’s arm. “Kissing it okay. Ido that.”

So, the kiss was a little wetter and somewhatmore enthusiastic than the ones he was used to, but Tony could work with it.Yeah. This could be good.

~as always, @tisfan