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rainrot4me · 8 months ago

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Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 02

Ben Drowned x Male Reader - Dirty Talk/Over the Phone

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Teasing, dirty talk, handjob, masturbation, mutual masturbation, desperation, anal fingering, Ben is a power bottom, commanding, top/bottom dynamics

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 2.6k

“It’ll be a little bit before I can see you again.”

Ben groaned, his phone pressed close to his ear as you spoke, the elf hunched onto the living room couch.

“Is there really no way for you to come back earlier?”

Ben was fiddling with his hoodie strings, unenthusiastically trying to prepare himself for the inevitable answer you always gave him.

“No…”

Living in the mansion together was nice, the two of you inseparable when the time allowed. But more often than not, Slender had you running through towns to scope areas or collect intel for the proxies. So, sadly, you both were forced to spend the majority of your relationship over the phone.

Ben didn’t completely hate it, his entire life revolved around technology and things like this. So, to him, the adjustment was a little easier.

However, to a clingy lover like you, it was hard to spend so much time away from his touch. You would spend nights slouched in the backseat of your truck imagining Ben was holding you or laying with you, the chilly night air always a little too isolating for you.

You had tried convincing Slender to send someone else, working a little harder to sway his opinion. That only made him more keen to send you further, impressed by your ability to move around so effortlessly and under shadows. You had been gone for four days now.

It took more effort to leave than anyone realized.

“I’ve only got a couple of more miles. I’ll try to wake up earlier to get this over with. Promise I’ll be back soon.”

Ben groaned, the sound of static crackling through the phone; his irritation. You hummed, kicking your legs out to settle in the back seat as you prepared for sleep. You could hear the elf too, the quiet shuffles as he spreads out on the mansion’s couch.

“Wish you were here…”

He sounds whiny, the huff of impatience in his voice as you smile, glancing out of the back window.

It was late, probably near midnight. You had been driving all day and found a cul-de-sac to park in, some quiet neighborhood nobody would notice. The street lights were low, nobody stirring as your parked truck sat deeper into the shadows.

You planned on being gone before anyone would wake.

“I wish I was there, too. Tired of sleeping in this damn thing.”

A little chuckle came from the other end, the distant sound of the television switching channels as Ben found something to fill the quiet. What you wouldn’t give to be laying on that couch right now with your boyfriend laid out in your lap.

You missed those nights. The quiet stutter of whatever show was playing as he ran his fingers through your hair, kissing along your face until you couldn’t get enough.

God, did you miss him.

“Wanna know the worst part about being gone?” You sighed, Ben humming as you leaned your head back against the glass of the door.

“Gas station food. Tired of living off of shitty chicken sandwiches.”

The elf laughed, finding a channel he liked and tossing the remote out of the way. You could hear the shuffle as he rolled onto his side, his tired sighs brushing through the phone.

“Wanna know the worst part for me?” You hum in response, Ben’s little chuckle making you smile.

“Having to jerk off by myself.”

You flinched, eyes going wide at the little smile you could hear behind his words. It was no secret just how unfiltered your boyfriend could be, but his words never failed to catch you off guard.

You sat up a little, huffing a small laugh as you heard Ben chuckle on the other end. He was such a tease, always so eager to get you flustered and speechless.

“That’s bad too…” You whisper back, voice a little more shaky than before. Ben could hear it, turning onto his back and resting his head on the arm of the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“Haven’t really had time to, so I guess I miss that a lot, too…”

“Do you want to...?”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you could hear nothing but the low mumble of the television on the other side. Ben’s excitement was practically buzzing as he waited for your answer, fingers tapping rhythmically on the backside of his phone.

You hated the little twinge of excitement that sparked in your gut, heart thumping in your chest as you quietly answered.

“Yeah…”

“God, that’s hot.”

You could already feel the pit in your stomach growing, the tiniest hints of arousal creeping in as your cheeks flushed dark. It had been days since you had even thought about getting off, too busy trying to drive to your destination and make it back before you went crazy. Ben’s breathing was louder in the phone now, quiet shuffles that you couldn’t quite make out as you let your hand rest atop your thigh.

“Unbutton your pants, okay?”

You could hear the switch in Ben’s tone, the sleepy huffs from earlier now laced with a commanding tone. You loved it when he got in that headspace, so willing to give you instructions and tell you exactly what you both want. You always admired his bluntness, especially when it was about what he wanted from you.

You unzipped your jeans, shoving the fabric down to the top of your thighs as you held the phone close, waiting so desperately for him to tell you what to do. Your face was hot, excitement bubbling as you could feel your cock slowly twitching to life.

“I can’t wait till you come back… I need to see your pretty face…”

You could hear the huffs in his voice, the quiet sounds of his own jeans being pushed down as he quietly sighed. You couldn’t see it, but Ben’s cock was heavy lying on his waistline, twitching and straining every time he heard your voice. He had been hard the entire phone call, secretly stifling his groans until he found an opening to get you here with him.

“Ben…”

It was so desperate, your hand pushing past the waistline of your boxers and wrapping a fist around your half-hard length. You were quick to tighten your grip on the head, twisting and pushing your thumb against your slit, whining when your stomach twinged.

You spread your legs, tugging your hand out to push your boxers down too, flinching when you were met with the chilly air of the truck. It was already growing stuffy in there, your body cramped and aching from the uncomfortable sleeping positions of the past couple of days. That wouldn’t stop you from hunching your shoulders lower on the door, hiking your leg up, and letting the other one spread wide.

“Don’t try to be quiet, now. I want to hear… Tell me what you want…” Ben grunted, his own legs hiked up and spread as he took his length in his hand, trying his damnedest to imagine it was yours. It was late at night now and nobody in the mansion was stirring, but the elf clicked the television volume up a little, just in case.

“Needed to be inside you, like, yesterday…” You half-laugh, but it was true.

You brought your hand up to your mouth, collecting spit on your lips to bring back down to your tip, smearing it down your length. You groaned at the tug, stomach tightening as you gripped a fist tight at the base and lightly rutted into it. You let your head drop back, breathing deeply and whining at the feeling of you growing harder.

“Feels good… Ah- Wish it were your hands…” You gasped, Ben’s sharp breaths echoing right into your ear as you let your mind hook on the thought of him jerking off, too.

“Go slow. Drag it out for me.”

Your eyes were screwed shut as you willed your hand to stroke your length easily, bringing your fist from your tip and pushing through to the base. You let out a quiet gasp every time, imagining it was Ben’s hand that was slowly dragging your arousal to the surface.

He always did that when you were together, quietly getting you excited before forcing you to admit how badly you wanted him. He was always such a tease, getting you on the edge of pliable before having his way.

Ben, meanwhile, was quickly rutting his hips up into his hand. He had the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, one hand on his cock while the other brushed along his stomach, goosebumps rising and scratching across his skin.

“God, I wish you were here… Miss your dick… Mmm…” He grunted, teeth gritted as he twisted his fist along his head and forced pre to dribble out. He had pent himself up, his cock more than ready to cum, but he’d wait until you were there too.

You were whining now, the sound of Ben quickly jerking off his arousal making your hand itch to move faster. But you would listen to him, slinking your hand as slow and desperately as you could.

“Ben… Please… Ahnn-”

He grunted at the way you sighed his name, pulsing his fist at his head and messily fucking the tip of his cock into his grip. He was disappointed that it wasn’t as tight as you were able to grip him, your hands absent as his body scrambled for the sensation.

“What was that? Tell me what you want…”

You whined, cheeks heated and hips beckoning to flinch upwards. Beads of sweat collected along your brow, the stuffiness of the truck becoming heated as your body swelled with pleasure.

“Need to go faster… Stop teasing…”

Ben chuckled, whispering into the phone as he heard your desperation. “So good for me… Alright, love, go ahead…”

You didn’t let yourself get caught up in his words, gripping the phone tighter as you pulsed your hand quickly. You set a good pace, your spit gliding across your length and tugging flinches and stutters from your hips. You let your head fall back again, eyes fluttering shut as you finally thrust up into your hand.

You could practically see your boyfriend’s pretty face, his slack jaw as you fuck up into him, warmth gripping you much tighter than your fist ever could.

“Lemme hear you…”

Ben’s words had you letting out any tenseness you had in your throat, moaning out into the emptiness of the backseat as you watched your cock glide through your grasp with heavy eyes. The elf listened closely, tugging his hoodie up to his chest as he rolled over, lying on his stomach.

He let both hands wrap around his cock, back arching to angle his hips just right, fucking down into his grasp. He shoved his face into the arm of the couch, phone pressed against the side of his face so he could still hear your noises.

“Mhnn… Keep going now… Don’t slow down…”

You didn’t know, but Ben was sliding one of his hands to his mouth and sucking on the digits quietly. Your moans were inching him on, body begging to feel your touch as he slipped his hand back down his back and to his ass.

“Ben… baby… Aha-”

“I know… Fuck, I know…”

He pressed the pads of his fingers against his asshole, lips parting with a gasp as he pushed in to the knuckle. His cock pulsed, his abdomen twinging and forcing his fist off of his cock in fear of cumming too quickly. His knees dug into the cushion of the couch, spreading his thighs wider and forcing his back lower as he began to finger himself slowly, cock hanging heavy between his legs.

You were sitting up now, hunched over as you ran your thumb over your tip and pushed the pre down your length. You felt so needy, imagining it was his hips straddling you as you heard Ben whine on the other end, your heart thumping.

“I need to be inside you… Wanna feel you…” You gasped out, face heating up when you heard the elf hum a long moan into your ear.

“Fuck me… Fuck me, please…”

It was so arousing how Ben’s personality could switch on a dime, telling you what to do one minute but begging you to do things to him the next. You could never get enough.

You held the phone between your ear and shoulder as you leaned back again, one hand gripped firm at the base of your cock while the other quickly jerked the rest. You let your moans carry, loud, desperate noises at every thrust you imagined was into the tight warmth of him.

“Quiet, now- Hah- Don’t wake anyone up…” You were well aware of how loud the elf could get.

Ben refused to touch his cock, hand fisting into the fabric of the couch as he listened to you. He was two fingers deep into his ass now, curling the digits to push against that lovely spot deep inside that you were so good at reaching. He wished it was you, whined and gasped at the desperate thought of your cock replacing his fingers. He was getting close, the pit in his stomach growing heavy even without a hand on his length.

Ben slipped his bottom lip between his teeth, whining into the cushion of the couch as he strained. Every inch of his body ached for your length, his dominance flickering as he felt his cock twitch underneath.

“Wanna cum… Ben… Lemme, please…”

Your teeth grit as your hands squeeze tighter, the throbbing sensation in your gut hanging so close to the edge. Ben pushed his feet into the cushions, his arm straining to push his fingers deeper as you both gasped and moaned to each other, beckoning the other’s orgasm closer.

“Inside… Cum inside me, love…”

It didn’t take another fist of your length before you felt your gut tighten, hot flashes across your skin pulsing into your cock as thick stripes of cum leaked out onto your fist still stroking away. Ben heard your long moan, the one he knew from the times you buried your face into his neck and rode him out.

He pushed his fingers all the way to the base, stuffing himself the best he could as he let his hand snap back onto his length and quickly stroke himself. He bit into the couch cushion as thick globs of cum shot from his tip, straining against the fabric as his hole swallowed his fingers and pulsed around them.

You were both gasping and writhing as you tugged out the last of your orgasm, bodies falling limp the moment exhaustion gripped you both.

Quiet pants and sighs followed, you both gathering yourselves before you finally breathed.

“I’m coming back…”

Ben blinked for a moment, letting his fingers slip out as he sat up, pulling the phone to his ear.

“No, I’ll be alright…”

But it was already too late, you zipped your jeans back up and slid up to the driver’s seat. Shuffling through your console, you wiped your hands with a napkin and promptly started the old truck.

Ben heard it on the other end, a quiet smile as his heart fluttered.

“I’ll be home in an hour.”

It was a three-hour drive, but you’d be damned if you were going to let another moment pass without him next to you.

You peeled out of the cul-de-sac, final decisions made.

Slender was just going to have to find someone else to be his errand boy.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors: @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

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givethemsmut · 11 months ago

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Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Sixteen | Where It All Started…

Dom was packing his bags while fixing his eyes on me as I sat next to his suitcase on the bed. He was leaving again and I had no choice but to stay put.

He hadn’t budged on letting me come on the road and it only drove my mind mad. I over thought everything until the only possible reason could have been secretive. Malice. Maybe even painful.

My bump was still small, still barely showing past looking bloated.

Dom flipped the top once he was done, zipping the suitcase and standing at the edge of the bed. “I don’t wanna leave on bad terms.”

I let my hand cover his. It was genuine but a small part of was still filled with fear still. “You aren’t. You have to work and I’ve always known that. It comes with the package.”

Easier said than done.

Dom’s phone buzzed against the bed causing us both to look down at the screen. I saw Rhea’s name flash on the screen before I turned my attention away from him.

Slipping off the bed I tried to act too busy, untrained or interested in Rhea texting him. They were best friends but the chemistry was so tangible it made me insecure sometimes.

“It’s just Rhea,” he shouted like I fled.

Ignoring his justification I went into our closet. Dom was leaving and all the ways I hated that were hard to ignore. I realized how strong Dom’s mom was in this moment, constantly living alone in a big house and keeping life moving while her husband traveled the world.

I felt a sharp pain drag through my stomach when I folded over in pain. “Dom,” I cried out almost panicked.

Standing in our closet doorway he took one look at me and rushed to my side. Squeezing his hand I tried to focus on that inside of the cramp rolling through me. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know what happened. Probably just my body adjusting.” Taking a big breath in and out I tried to regain composure as the pain let up little by little.

Dom dialed and held the phone pinched between his shoulder and cheek. “I need to make an appointment for my wife. She’s having cramping and pain.”

I didn’t want to like the word wife coming from his lips but I did. It was hard not to. It was hard to feel just like a girlfriend when our entire lives were entangled.

“We’ll take it. Thanks,” Dom hung up the phone before dialing another number. “I’m gonna be late. I have to take the next flight. My wife is having cramps, we gotta see the doc.”

“You can’t miss your flight. I’ll be okay. Just go.” I stood up right pretending it didn’t even happen and smiling so he knew it was okay to leave. We didn’t need anymore problems, let alone ones that affected his job.

“Get some pants on. OB office in 15. I want to make sure our baby is okay. I’m just gonna change my flight quick.” He kissed my head and left me in our closet. Everything about him put us first and every part of me fighting it for so long felt horrible.

Arriving at the office felt too real. Suddenly my heart raced, the pain I felt wasn’t ignorable, and my hands started to shake at the reality. I could have stressed too hard, I could have been the reason for the pain.

Dom checked in for me when another wave of cramps took over. They didn’t have us wait to be called and my heart dropped into my ass wondering why.

Taking my clothes off I laid on the cold table with my legs separated for the internal ultrasound. All it took was one sentence to ruin the happiness.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t hear a heartbeat.” She said it confidently but with empathy the way someone should.

I immediately felt my eyes well up and the stupidity of fighting with Dom vanished. He bent down covering me in kisses, “It’s okay. We’ll try again. I’m sorry, baby.”

The nurse gave us privacy to mourn before someone else came into the room with information on a miscarriage, a prescription for antibiotics like I needed protection from my own body, and resources for dealing with loss.

I felt broken, physically broken, enough that everything seemed dulled and blurred around me. I had lost our baby at 4 months.

Dom did most of the talking when she asked to make a follow up and I couldn’t stop crying. Holding onto his hoodie I walked with him silently, trying to hold myself together and retracing steps for a reason why this happened.

it was like he could read my mind when he got behind the wheel. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. The stress. We’ll try again as soon as they say we can.”

I didn’t even turn to glance at him. Instead I stayed still and silent.

Pulling into our driveway he didn’t make any moves to get out and neither did I. “Pack a bag. I’m not leaving you here. I’m not agreeing to a storyline either. I’m getting you a plane ticket now. We’ll follow up with a doc at WWE.”

“I’m fine, Dom. I can stay home like I always do. I’ll be okay.” I whispered, defiantly.

“Mi amore, were you listening to the doctor? You’re going to be in pain, bleeding, you can’t be alone. You’re coming with me so pack a bag. We’ll figure this out together.”

Everything from watching Dom pack my suitcase, to his mom texting me, to the cramps piercing through the numbness. I was packed and on a plane before I could process anything. Once we touched down in Ohio I thought I would feel better but I couldn’t do anything but think of how messed up everything was.

“We have a bus but we can stay in a hotel if you want. We’re with Judgement Day until our bus is here tomorrow. Just one night. I have two promos tonight, no wrestling. Mi amore? You heard?”

Dom’s voice sounded close when I finally turned to him in the rental car. “Whatever you want,” I whispered before I looked out the window again.

“We can try again, baby.”

He meant well but he didn’t understand how much of a failure I felt like. Just his eyes boring into me felt like judgement I knew he didn’t have in him. I gave him hell for loving me and this felt like punishment too.

“Okay. When can I see a doctor?” The cramps weren’t getting easier and the meds she gave me in the office weren’t helping yet.

Parking the car at the venue he said I could leave my bags so I did. Taking my hand tightly he kept me close by until we got inside. That was when his hand fell away and the tougher version of Dom came out to play.

That version was reserved for competition, asserting his power, and in the off chance he had to defend me.

[ flashback ]

The first time we had sex I got pregnant and his mom kept my secret.

She knew better than us, neither of needed to derail our lives more than we already intended to. Dom was a football player who had talent and knew he would be an athlete of some nature. I was just as lost as when his family took me in.

I refused to be the girl who attached herself to his life, disregarding my own entirely. I was always determined to be something more than damaged goods.

After that everything seemed to change. I became hellbent on making Dom hate me enough to stop loving me. Cue my high school boyfriend Blaine.

He was a horrible person. The definition of Mr. Popular even down to being a bully to everyone who he deemed not worthy.

I tried not to care and that left Dom protecting me a lot. Flexing that tougher exterior. It wasn’t until the senior ski trip that I saw Dom be something worse. He was ready to kill for me and that’s when I knew he had what it took for WWE.

He toyed with the idea but didn’t want to act his way between the athletics. He didn’t think he had what it took to create a persona but I saw it formulate before anyone else.

Senior ski trip was three days in Big Bear with limit supervision, our treat for behaving at our private school. Everyone loaded on the buses and Blaine bullied the group sitting in the back to move just for us.

“Need that privacy, ya know bro?” He winked at Dom without ever realizing our own history.

Dom forced a chuckle before slapping his hand back. Marie was by his side with his arm around her neck and I had to force myself to not react. Sitting down next to Blaine he whispered, “I got candy. What kind do you want baby?”

Blaine’s football season was over and was already promised the world after we graduated, caring about partying went out the window. The baggie was filled with all kind of pills and gummies.

“Something light. I just need to sleep until we get there.” I held out my hand when his fingers dug into my cheeks and forced my mouth open. Feeding me two pills, I didn’t ask questions. I was self loathing, self sabotaging and wanted no saving.

That wasn’t stopping Dom.

Our eyes linked and I could see the disappointment all over his face. Instead of whispering I’m sorry I simply looked out the window instead.

I fell asleep against the window and when I woke up my neck was killing me. Blaine was already grabbing his stuff and making his way off the bus when Dom just starred me down. “Your boyfriend probably has something for that too.”

“You mean your best friend? Isn’t there some kind of rule about that?” I quipped before breezing by him between the seats.

“I’m pretty sure you fucked me first, sweetheart. Pretty sure that makes you shitty, not me.”

Ignoring Dom’s insults I followed Blaine into the lobby of the five-star hotel. Our teachers who were here with us divided up the keys before Blaine volunteered to do that for them. Scoring us the biggest rooms close to each other and having everyone else fight over doubles.

Our room was the size of a suite, with a hot tub, deck and perfect view of the cold mountains. We were California kids used to the perfect weather; not the freezing cold but no one could deny how beautiful it was.

The pills seemed to be wearing off when I fished a bottle of vodka out of my bag and started pouring shots for our group of friends.

Marie was doe-eyed, innocent, displaced. Dom was just trying to soak up the innocence when we both knew he had a dark side. One that was willing to fuck me with his mom downstairs.

Marie declined and Dom followed suite. “We just got here. Might wanna let the pills wear off.”

Tossing back the shot I pivoted on the ball of my foot, pulling my shirt off in front of everyone just to hurt Dom for his remark. “Blaine, I’m gonna shower.”

Pushing my lounge pants down I exposed the thong I had on with the lace bra to match before closing the door behind me.

“Don’t mind her. She’s just pissed Laura texted me some nudes.” I could hear Blaine not whispering through the door while I waited for a hint to Dom’s reaction.

“What the fuck man. She’s practically my sister and you’re cheating on her?” Dom shouted and I could feel the tension against the door.

Calm as ever Blaine responded, “She’s already fucking you, right?” There was a pause Blaine was famous for before he continued, “Don’t give me the brother act. I’m not stupid. Don’t worry, I’m not dumping her. She’s hot, she doesn’t care who watches, she’s a good ass time.”

Dom didn’t respond, or not loud enough to hear, when I gave up and went to actually shower. The hot water felt like it could give me new life if I tried hard enough.

I was pregnant with Dom’s baby. I could have just given in, been his wife and mother of his child. I could have just been happy but every trauma response in my life screamed otherwise.

I didn’t realize anyone came in until I saw Dom standing outside the shower. I jumped out of my skin before grabbing for the towel and stepping out while the water collided with the tile.

“What the fuck are you doing? Getting half naked out there in front of everyone?” He said it like it wasn’t a weekly occurrence.

“And every other weekend was okay? Or only okay when Miss Innocent isn’t there to see it?” Barely holding up the towel I walked over to the mirror, checking my eyes for black circles.

“Why are you doing this? You don’t need to get fucking naked and trashed every weekend.” His body pinned me against the vanity, hands clutching the counter on either side of me and looking at my reflection.

“Because I want to, Dom. It feels good. Don’t be jealous I can lose control while you pretend to be perfect.” I pushed my ass against him trying to escape when he might as well felt like stone.

“Lose control, huh? The pills, the booze, the bruises, the way everyone has seen your fucking body is the goal? So you can fuck everyone but me, right, mi amore?” His mouth was tight, eyebrows slanted down into rage and any control I had was gone. Long gone.

“Because I’m such a slut, right? Blaine tells me everything, Dom. I know exactly what you think.” I twisted around to face him instead.

His hand snuck up me, wrapping around my neck. “Call it as I see it, sweetheart. I hear all about those fucked up gang bangs.”

I did everything I could to make Dom jealous, hurt him, including letting other guys but Blaine touch me. Blaine encouraged his friends to touch my body while we made out, encouraged other guys to watch. It was something I always managed to escape before it got to actually sex with Blaine. Dom always left before then.

“You mean the ones you never stay for because you’re dating Miss Perfect?”

“She’s not a slut.” His hand around my throat tightened and I was forced to not fight it. His dark side was pissed and I was about to be punished for it.

“Like me?”

“We fuck. We don’t need an audience.”

I laughed around his hard constricting my air. Letting the towel fall down between us I was completely naked against him. “Sounds boring. Why don’t you live a little this weekend? Try paying attention to me less.”

Blaine didn’t bother knocking when he came in. Dom was forced to drop his hand and I scrambled for my towel. “Practically your sister, huh?”

Blaine walked over to me, pushing Dom further away before slipping his tongue in my mouth. “I mean goddamn, I can’t blame you, brother. Look at these tits… perfection.”

My boyfriend urged me on the countertop while his mouth hungrily found mine. Tossing his phone to Dom he pulled away only long enough to make demands. “Record this for me, bro. I want to remember this weekend.”

Blaine was pushing his joggers down when I pressed my palm against his chest. I couldn’t stay Dom’s and keep the facade going if he stayed to record us. “Stop Blaine. Not with him here.”

His mouth kept kissing my neck and I could feel him tugging me to the edge more. His hard on rubbing my thigh while I stayed so still it hurt.

“That’s the only time you give it up - when he’s around. Well, he’s around now, baby girl. Come on. I’ve been patient enough for that pussy.” Blaine’s words were the kind of sharp cruelty that hurt so much more. “You can fuck him next baby. I just want first shot.”

Dom was so heated he was stiff, fists balled up and his eyes focused on Blaine. “Enough. Fucking stop.” He grabbed Blaine by the shirt and pushed him across the bathroom before shaking off his flannel to give me to cover up.

Pushing my arms through his shirt I wrapped it around me. “Dom, it’s fine. I can handle myself. Just go back to Marie.”

His eyes saddened and went up in flames all at once. “Are you fucking serious?”

Without any questions Dom left the bathroom and returned to his girlfriend. I knew I had to prove Dom had nothing to do with when I pursued my own boyfriend.

“Now that we’re alone… Fuck him. We fucked one time when we were kids. Now he thinks he owns me. We both know he doesn’t. Let’s do some shots.”

Taking him by the hand I lead him to the bedside table where I dropped the bottle of vodka. With a big swig I slipped onto the bed, the flannel completely opened exposing my body and I let my legs fall open for him.

I had no choice but to live up the facade now. Blaine wasn’t going to keep me around for no reason and I needed him buffer Dom.

“Don’t fucking play with me. I’m too high right now.” His hand smoothed up my legs and his body filled the space between my legs.

“I’m not playing… you’ve been patient enough.” Every part of cringed, fighting the urge to push him off me entirely.

His mouth nipped at mine before his tongue slipped against mine. “I’m not taking no for an answer tonight. I don’t care if Dom is watching or not.”

Blaine was a statue found in Greece. Sleek muscles, blonde messy hair, these ocean eyes that felt moody, and all the confidence to make every ounce of him hurt. I should be attracted to him but I wasn’t.

He wasn’t Dom. No one was.

The way I blacked out every second with Blaine was a blessing. I didn’t want to remember how fooling around was with him, doing everything but what he wanted.

After a long nap I woke up to a party in our hotel suite, everyone drinking and the music loud enough to mute the moral high ground. Putting on a bikini I slipped Dom’s shirt on again.

Blaine was flirting with some girl when I scored a solo cup of some undisclosed liquor. I didn’t care about the party when I made my way out to the hot tub to see Dom out on the deck by himself. “No girlfriend?”

“Apparently our closeness makes her uncomfortable. Go figure.” His head snapped in my direction while I shook off his shirt and handing it to him. “You fucked him?”

Ignoring his question I dipped into the hot tub teasing Dom when I took my top and bottoms off in the water. Dom got undressed, down to his boxers, before he got in the hot tub. Boxing me in he whispered, “All the boozes and pills helping you forget he ain’t me?”

“Maybe I don’t want you… anymore…” I whispered while he sat down next to me and helped me into his lap.

“Then maybe remember his name instead of mine the next time you fuck.” His jaw was locked in a kind of angry that was wrapped in makings sure I knew he knew everything.

That ski trip Marie broke up with Dom and my relationship with Blaine ended when he found someone who would go all the way with him. Dom and I never talked about how I moaned his name behind closed doors with another man, about his breakup, or the fact that I spent all weekend in his bed instead of Blaine’s.

That weekend Dom helped me wean myself off of the pills and boozes. Every sobering moment I realized how much Dom was always going to be the one person I had a hard time letting myself love.

#dom mysterio #wwe #wwe fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #dom mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio fanfic #dom mysterio fanfic #dominik mysterio x reader

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tj-crochets · 2 years ago

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Pattern design tips, part one! Part two will have the photos because those are easier to add from my phone and it’s easier to type on my computer, but tumblr hates when I try to do both on the same post lol. I’m going to make it a numbered list so I can more easily connect photos with typed descriptions, but they are numbered only in the order I think of them, not in order of importance or anything. A note: I have only ever designed for minky or fleece. I have zero experience making patterns for non-stretch fabrics. A lot of these tips will probably apply to both, but use your best judgment.

1. I was wrong, this one is number one for a reason (the rest are in no particular order). It will make pattern designing much much easier if you have something to make drawing the seam allowance easier. I’ve done it a few different ways, but in order from best to worst here’s the methods I’ve used: - two mechanical pencils whose tips happened to measure 1/4″ apart, taped together. Absolutely my favorite (you could use a pencil and a stick, a pen and a marker, whatever, as long as one of them can draw and the other comes to a point so you can have the point trace along the pattern lines while the other side draws the seam allowance line) - adjustable circle drawing compass, set to 1/4″ distance (this works pretty well, but the non-drawing side sometimes catches along the paper and the drawing side is more difficult to replace than adding lead to mechanical pencils) - a 1/4″ square dowel. I lined it up with the outer part of the pattern piece, drew a short mark, moved it, and kept doing it until I had dots spaced around the entire pattern piece and could connect them. Overall, less precise, more difficult to use, but will work in a pinch (aka when you have just moved and can’t find the other methods, if you are me lol) - a ruler. You can use it the same way you use the dowel, to make dots and then connect them, but it’s just the worst. Use one of the first two if you can, it will make your life so much easier 2. fold the paper for symmetry. I know that sounds obvious, but it can help a lot. Sometimes, like with the elephant body, I’ll fold the paper in half, in half again, and then draw the pattern. Most of the time I fold the paper in half whenever I am making a pattern piece that is basically a hemisphere of the plushie; the front half of the head, half the body, really anything at all where I want it to be even sort of symmetrical I will fold the paper in half and only draw half the pattern (tip: leave it folded, add the seam allowance, then cut it out before you unfold. You only have to draw half the seam allowance that way) 3. to match irregular shapes (like a rectangular leg piece with a round bottom of foot piece), measure the edge you want to match of whichever piece you drew first with a pipe cleaner (fold to make the right length) or a piece of yarn (cut to make the right length), and then use that pipe cleaner/yarn to make sure you’re using the right measurements for the other pattern piece. Remember that if you are making a leg that’s two rectangles with a circle at the end, you will need to double the measurement (or, if you fold the paper, remember that you don’t double it). In general, pipe cleaners are easier, but if you want to use yarn you can kind of draw, measure the yarn against what you drew, and adjust from there until it matches. 4. Think about angles, and what shape you want. For the tip of the mantle of the octopus, I knew I wanted it to be essentially flat at the start, with four pieces coming together. That meant I needed each piece to start with approximately a 90 degree angle there, if I wanted them equal. Smaller angles (where the sum of all the angles coming together is less than 360 degrees) will make more of a pointed shape, and larger angles (where the sum is more than 360 degrees) will kind of ruffle? They won’t lie flat. None of those are right or wrong, it just depends on what you are trying to make. Also, since 5. Everywhere says not to pull on the minky while you are sewing, but if you are making something twisty like octopus tentacles and are comfortable realigning pattern pieces as you sew, put tension on one layer of fabric but not the other and it’ll make them twist. That’s less pattern design and more plushie sewing tip, but I’m adding it anyway 6. okay this is also kind of a big one. WHERE TO START WHEN PATTERN DESIGNING: a. have a clear idea what you want to make. Either a sketch you drew, a reference image, or just a very clear mental picture will help a lot b. next, pick the size. The way I usually do this is by determining my limits, which are usually either the amount of a particular fabric I have available (ie the maximum size something can be) or how big the smallest detail I want to make has to be for me to be able to sew it. I usually go by the smaller end of the scale, because I usually make my plushies pretty small. Notably, this is how I decided the size to make my giant frogs; I wanted them to have those treefrog kind of toes, and that was the absolute smallest I could make that shape and not struggle to turn it right side out. c. draw the pattern for the thing that determines the size of the plushie first. If that means your plushie is limited because you only have a quarter yard of the body fabric, draw the biggest body pattern piece first (and remember seam allowance when drawing it! if it only fits without a seam allowance, it does not fit). From there, use that piece to size the rest of the pieces 7. You do not have to make every pattern piece machine sewable. Some things can be hand sewn on. Gathering stitches to close small round pieces, like the bases of horns, tails, ears, or sometimes limbs, are your friends, and sew is the ladder stitch (for sewing plushie pieces together once they’ve already been turned right side out and stuffed) 8. For small plushies, you might not need darts if you are using stretchy fabric. For larger plushies, you’ll need darts. If you are uncomfortable drawing your own darts (and are not intending to sell the pattern), you can find a pattern that makes a curve similar to the one you are trying to make with the dart, trace it, and make the rest of the shape you are trying to make. Darts can be tricky to figure out, but the best way to do it is to practice making a bunch of things with a bunch of different shapes of darts and seeing how they look when finished 9. for that matter, if you have made plushies using other people’s patterns and are looking to make your own, you have an excellent resource at your fingers! Look at your plushies and see if there are any bits similar to the shapes you want to make, then look at the pattern pieces for those parts. See how other pattern designers chose to make those shapes and you’ll have a better idea where to start if you are stuck on how to make a particular shape. 10. Topstitching can make certain parts of pattern design significantly easier. For the round elephant’s trunk, with the two lines across is, I could have made each half of the trunk three separate pieces, or I could do what I did. I made the trunk two identical pieces, sewed them together across the top half, then topstitched two lines across the top of them to make the lines on the trunk without having to add seams there. 11. Take advantage of the seam lines you’ll be including in the plushie anyway when you can. Mostly for me that means accidentally making frogs and bunnies look super grumpy because the seam lines look like frowns, but I’ve also made an eel pattern where I needed a dart so I added it to the face where it would look like a smile. You don’t have to use seam lines, but you can!

#the pattern making process #tj talks about pattern designing #long post #sewing #plushie making #I am going to go eat dinner before I get the example pictures for the points #but if you read this and have questions let me know?#I might be able to edit and clarify things before I reblog with pictures #that way the pictures are on the edited version

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

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The Match - Part 6

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your decision.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: There’s a little bit of smut in here, not too filthy though I guess???

A/N: VOILA NO ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER, only tension teehee anyway I hope this doesn’t disappoint and I am looking forward to seeing everyone’s rage about this part lmfaoooo

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

The last time you lost sleep was back in your days at the university, when you were working on your thesis. And that was years ago so now that you were wide awake at two in the fucking morning, it was frustrating you.

What was even more frustrating was the fact that you were up because of a guy, and not just any guy— Bucky Barnes.

You didn't know whether you made the right decision of rejecting him like that, without even giving the relationship a damn chance. But you were right, weren't you? That making it official with courtship was going to make your corporate life a living hell.

Perhaps you were overthinking?

You groaned out loud and sat up on your bed, grabbing your phone from the night stand and opening up your messaging app.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean those things that I said.

Delete, delete, delete.

Can we talk again?

Delete, delete, delete.

I already miss you.

"Really, now?" you chuckled to yourself, albeit sarcastically.

When did you ever chase a guy? Never in you entire life did you put your walls down for a fucking guy. What would make Bucky an exception? Sure, he was rich as fuck and handsome as hell but those wouldn't give him an immunity from your pride.

Throwing your phone under your pillow, you decided to stand by your verdict about keeping things professional between you and Bucky.

The universe seemed to hate you because aside from losing sleep, you also forgot to set your alarms and now you were running late for the mancom meeting. You really had to confront Bucky like that a day before the meeting, huh?

By the time you reached the conference room, the meeting was already in progress. Heads turned to you upon your arrival, the entire room silent as you whispered your apologies. When you looked around, you realized that the only seat available was the one next to Bucky.

Great, just great!

You could feel his eyes on you as you carefully made your way towards him, mumbling another apology for your tardiness before sitting down. You knew how much Bucky hated it when people were late, whether for a meeting or for a rendezvous. The last time you were late, he denied you of your orgasm when he fingered you in his car.

Was he thinking of the same thing now? If not for last night's discussion, you would probably be bent down on his desk by lunch time. You cleared your throat and squeezed your legs uncomfortably, a gesture that Bucky noticed right off the bat.

You crossed your legs and focused your attention on the presentation until you noticed what Bucky was doing beside you. You tried to be discreet when you checked him out through your peripheral vision; he was leaning back against his seat with his legs wide apart. He seemed to be paying attention to the presentation but then he started stroking his chin in a certain way that made you remember all the times he did that whenever he had his eyes on you.

"Mister Barnes? What do you think about this suggestion?" the head of operations asked.

Bucky hummed lowly as he stroked his lower lip, nodding his head in approval before saying in a rough voice, "I like it."

"I like it."

"Like what?" you asked innocently, lifting a curious brow at Bucky when you entered his office one night in a tight fitting skirt with a slit that showed off the garter of your stockings.

You knew that it was going to drive Bucky insane if you walked around the office wearing something so teasing like that. To hell with the HR, you actually received a memo for wearing such at a workplace but whatever. The reward from Bucky would surely be more than enough to make this decision worth it.

"Playing coy now, are we?" Bucky asked, standing up from his seat and then walking over to you.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bucky." you teased.

Bucky smirked and kept his eyes on you when he knelt down in front of you, his rough palms sliding against the skin of your thighs before tugging at the edge of your stockings.

"I'll show you what I'm talking about." he said before he bunched up your skirt, licking a stripe against your lace-clad pussy.

You exhaled heavily at the memory and shook your head. Fuck no, you weren't going to give in! You weren't even sure whether Bucky was intentionally teasing you. Nope, definitely not giving in so easily.

You survived the entire day, despite being on the receiving end of Bucky's subtle teasing. That motherfucker was testing you alright, you were damn sure of it. He really went to the pantry during lunch, when you were washing your mug at the sink. And he had the audacity to stand behind you, pretending to be reaching for something from the cupboards.

Janet the snitch was there too! Thank fuck she was preoccupied with her salad and didn't notice when Bucky pressed his crotch against your ass, his breath fanning against your neck when he whispered "Excuse me." in that delicious, rough voice of his.

Thinking that you were finally free to head home, you started gathering your things until you received an e-mail from none other than Bucky. It was a little past seven in the evening already and you've submitted all your reports earlier. What does he want now?

Come see me in my office. Now.

Regards, Bucky Barnes

A surge of electricity coursed through your veins, your entire body going cold and you weren't sure whether you should be nervous or excited. Or aroused, even. You weren't going to lie but you sort of hoped that his e-mail contained another dick pic again, something to let you know that everything was fine between the two of you.

Who were you kidding though, you were the one who asked for this set-up.

You adjusted your skirt and went straight to the elevator, counting the seconds until it reached Bucky's floor. Every step you took towards his office felt heavier and heavier as you neared his door. What does he want?! You couldn't think of anything that he needed to talk to you about.

"Shit. Okay, bitch you got this." you mumbled to yourself before knocking.

Bucky didn't even tell you to come in, he just opened the door and left it ajar as he went back to his seat behind his desk. He seemed agitated but god did he look good. You really needed to get a grip of yourself.

"You need anything, Mister Barnes?" it felt strange to address him like that.

He heaved out a sigh and shrugged, "I'm very disappointed in this report." he said, slamming the folder on top of his desk before looking up at you.

"I don't understand. I followed every instruction and even included charts to make it easier to understand." you explained, slightly offended that he was questioning your hard work.

You worked hard on that report, and he knew how much. Was he power tripping you now?

"That's the thing, you followed every instruction. Sometimes you have to make certain changes, that doesn't mean it's automatically wrong as long as the outcome is the same." Bucky explained.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was insinuating something and you knew exactly what it was. You preferred not to focus on it and straightened up, trying to play it cool.

"I don't get it." you shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest.

Bucky heaved out sigh, "Come take a look. I'll show you where you went wrong." he said, raising his eyebrow at you, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

Oh no. Oh fucking no. He was giving you the look. You tried not to falter and maintained your professional behavior. Slowly, you walked around his desk until you stood beside him.

"See this part? Too detailed, I don't need to know about this. I just want to see the results." Bucky explained casually.

"Another thing is the graph you made. It's good, but again, too many details. You see this?" Bucky asked, glancing up at you.

You squinted your eyes, not wanting to stand too close to Bucky. Even from where you were, his perfume was invading your senses. It reminded you of all the times that scent was all that you could smell, especially whenever Bucky was on top of you, fucking your brains out. Or whenever he took you from behind, his face buried into your neck and—

"Are you listening?" Bucky asked.

You cleared your throat, "Yes." you immediately responded.

"Here, take a look at what I'm talking about." Bucky said, casually placing a hand on the small of your back as you bent down to look at your report closely.

It's as if everything happened so fast. You were trying to see what Bucky was talking about when you heard his chair screech against the floor, followed by his strong hands gripping your waist, pulling you down to sit on his lap.

You gasped out loud when you felt his hard cock against your ass. A slight whimper slipped past your lips when Bucky slightly moved, thrusting his hips upward while his hands on your waist kept you still.

"Bucky, fuck I..." you panted.

And then suddenly, the contact was gone and Bucky was pulling you away from him as he stood up. A shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he feigned innocence.

"I'm sorry, I totally forgot. We're supposed to be professional now. That's what you wanted, right?" he asked mockingly, shaking his head and then fixing his suit.

You stood there, gawking at him incredulously at the stunt that he just pulled on you. Did he really just...?

What the fuck?

"Anyway, I want the revised report by my table end of the day tomorrow." he said oh so casually, as if he didn't just pull you down to sit on his fucking lap while he had a damn erection.

He sat back down and continued with his shit as you stood there, disappointed (at yourself actually) and just feeling like a fucking fool.

"I can't believe you just did that." you softly said, turning around to leave.

"Just say you want me and this will all be over." Bucky said.

You looked back at him with a scowl and saw how smug he was staring at you. His lips curled up into a grin, eyes glinting with mischief. You wanted to kiss that fucking smirk off his face, maybe sit on it and ride it until he's out breath, until the skin on your inner thighs burned from how his scruff was scratching against it.

But again, you were too proud to do that.

"Thank you, Mister Barnes. I'll see you tomorrow."

What do you call it when a girl is left high and dry? Is there a female version for having blue balls? You needed to know because that was something you've been going through for two weeks now.

Two fucking weeks.

Since that night in Bucky's office, things have gotten worse for you. Bucky wanted you to give in first and damn, he was giving it his fucking all when it comes to making you cave. The man even texted you a shirtless photo of him at the gym. By accident, he said.

And here you thought that the both of you were going to be professional moving forward.

Bucky always teased you whenever he could, made sure that you'd be reminded of the times you spent together. Whether it was with how he spoke or looked at you, he was subtle but he went all out. One time during a meeting, Bucky started to play with his fucking mouse. His middle finger doing things to his scroll wheel, moving back and forth all the while he was staring at you with a sleazy grin.

As if you needed any more reminder how much his fingers felt so much better against your cunt as compared to your own.

Friday came quickly and you couldn't be more grateful for it. It had been very busy at the office and Bucky was edging you even without having the need to touch you. You needed a break from him, needed some time to yourself and rethink about the certain decisions you made.

You stood by the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor when Mark approached you.

"Been a hectic week huh?" he asked, adjusting the strap of his laptop bag on his shoulder.

You sighed, "Very hectic, thank goodness the week is over." you said with a chuckle.

"Any plans for the night?" Mark asked, turning to you.

You shook your head, "Not really. You?"

Mark smiled widely at you, "No plans either. But I do remember you owe me a night at the bar." he reminded you.

You mentally facepalmed because fuck, you totally forgot about that. Mark wasn't so bad actually, he was kind and seemed like a lot of fun to hang out with. You just...you just weren't attractive to him.

Maybe you should give it a try? Just to keep your mind off of Bucky even for a while. That man was driving you insane, honestly.

"Of course, yeah. I remember." you said with an awkward laugh.

"Do you want to go tonight?" he asked at the same time the elevator doors opened.

Lo and behold, Bucky Barnes was inside as well. Fucking hell.

"Mister Barnes." Mark greeted him before gesturing for you to step inside first.

You saw the look that Bucky gave both you and Mark. Suddenly, hanging out with Mark didn't seem like a good idea anymore. You prayed that Mark wouldn't bring it up anymore, at least, while Bucky was inside the elevator.

It felt like you were being ushered into the pits of hell when you stepped inside. Even with Mark's presence, you felt nervous being around Bucky. God knows what this man could do when provoked.

"Anyway, how about tonight?" Mark repeated his question, much to your dismay.

Bucky was standing behind the both of you and yet you could feel his eyes digging holes against the back of your head. He was waiting for your response.

"Come on, you promised me a date." Mark just had to imply.

Bucky coughed and Mark turned to him all of a sudden, "You ever been to the bar down the block, Mister Barnes?" he asked.

"Yes." Bucky curtly responded.

"They serve the best drinks, right? So come on, let me take you there. You won't regret it. What do you think, Mister Barnes?"

Mister Barnes will fucking whoop your ass, Mark, you thought to yourself. You suddenly started sweating bullets, feeling your armpits dampen beneath your blouse because jesus christ, was this really happening? You just wanted for the ground to swallow you up. Should you pretend to faint instead? Just to get out of this awkward situation?

"Yeah, a promise is a promise. Why don't you let Mike take you out tonight?" Bucky said, stepping in between you and Mark.

Mark made a face, "It's actually Mark, Mister Barnes."

Bucky though, kept his attention on you. His expression unreadable but his jaw was tensed. You were so fucked. And not in a good way. He was trying so hard to stay calm but when you glanced down, his hands were balled into fists.

"What do you say to that date with Martin?" Bucky asked again.

Mark lifted a finger, "Mark." he chimed in again.

"Yeah, whatever Michael." Bucky waved him off with his hand before turning back to you. "So, what do you say?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked past Bucky's shoulder to check on Mark, he didn't seem suspicious though. He looked hopeful, actually. But you pitied him because he just made it to Bucky's list of employees to keep an eye on. Aside from Janet, of course.

"I...um..." Fuck it.

"Yeah, okay. A date it is then." you awkwardly said, forcing out the driest laugh you ever produced in your entire life.

Mark excitedly pumped his fist in the air, "Great! Thank you, Mister Barnes. Guess she just needed a little push." he said.

Bucky feigned a smile and nodded, taking a step back from you. "A little push. Yeah, I guess so."

Finally, the elevators reached the ground floor and you were ready to sprint out of it when Bucky said his parting words.

"You enjoy your date with Marty now. Totally nothing unprofessional about dating a co-worker." Bucky told you and before the elevator doors closed, you saw the scowl that appeared on his face.

Shit.

"Mister Barnes is acting weird, don't you think?" Mark asked as the both of you walked out of the building.

You forced a smile and walked ahead of Mark, "Definitely not weird. You know what? I badly need a drink or two, an entire bottle of tequila maybe so let's just go now."

As if on cue, your phone buzzed and the message that showed up made you want to stop in the middle of the street, lay down on your back and await your demise.

You're playing a dangerous game. Well, two can play at that.

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @suchababie @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun @iloveshawnieboi @learisa @borikenlove @scarlet-natasha89

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

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xxlost-cityxx · 4 years ago

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ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS

Ship/Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki

TW/CW: Rough anal sex, virgin Katsuki Bakugou, slight choking, slight piss kink/bladder control, brief spanking, rimming, bottom Katsuki, dom Kirishima, begging, crying, anal fingering, degredation and praise

I posted this on Ao3 literally last night, so enjoy.

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

Stupid fucking Kirishima with his stupid fucking face and stupid fucking body-

Again. Once-a-fucking-gain. Katsuki was hard at work. Kirishima had simply aided Katsuki in a surprisingly powerful villain attack- even though everyone knew Dynamight had it under control. But Eijirou's help...made it easier to take down the villain- NOT that Katsuki needed his help in the first place.

The villain landed a hit on Katsuki and he flew into a pile of concrete and wooden rubble, and the next thing he saw was Red Riot, unhardened, nearly body slamming the guy into a wall, digging his forearm and elbow into his neck and his knee between his legs. It looked painful for the villain and it looked like Ejirou was definitely holding back from completely crushing the dude's balls...But. The way Kirishima was looking at the guy, a stone cold face, a deadly glare he hasn't seen since the last time Eijirou had heard Monama talk back in U.A. He was mad. And Gods if that sight didn't make him pop a boner-

So now here he was. Virgin Katsuki pretending he was too good to be around all his druken friends who were surely getting laid tonight, meanwhile, all Katuski would do tonight is ride his dildo until the sun came up.

Bakugou couldn't jack off. It wasn't really a fact, but he's pretty sure that any man would avoid jacking off with even a small risk that you might blow your own dick off, especially if you were gay. Gods bless the prostate. And really, it takes forever to cum riding 6 inches of colored silicone without touching your dick, but the point was, it got the job done and no one knew his secret to having 'thunder thighs' or some shit. He still remembers the first interveiwer who asked about his leg day routine, stating that he had entranced everyone with his thighs or some shit. He never thought he'd be referred to as 'thick' or whatever it was.

He took another shot of vodka, ignoring the pestering jealousy as he watched Kirishima dance with Denki. It was obviously platonic, not only did they repeatedly state in multible interviews that they were 'strictly bromance' and that they liked fucking with their fans's minds, Denki was dating Dead Eyes and Earphones.

Bakugou wasn't even a little tipsy really, it took a lot to get him drunk. It took a lot to get any of them drunk, but that didn't stop anyone from trying. But Bakugou wasn't going to go home drunk and have drunken masturbation for 5 hours, never was his thing. So he'd stick to being sober for tonight.

He growled as Kirishima's hand was on Denki's hip, Kaminari's back against Eijirou's chest. The much smaller blonde wiggled his hips against Kirishima's surely soft dick. Sero and Mina were laughing their asses off from their seats, Denki smirking and trying to be as dramatic and intimate as he could, a few phones recording them.

Katsuki growled to himself, slamming the shot glass on the bar top so hard it slightly cracked. He stood up and grabbed his coat, oblivious to how red eyes quickly switched from watching the smiling and laughing faces of his friends to laser focused on the ash blonde in a split second.

As Katsuki left the bar, he grumbled to himself until he was outside his place.

An hour later, he was panting. It felt like his entire body was covered in lube by the time he was bouncing on the silicone properly. He frowned, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the head bump into his prostate with practiced movements, usually a feeling that would have him gasping and shuttering, but he wanted this cock to be Kirishima's. He was sick and tired of riding an inanimate object that didn't praise him, didn't make noise, didn't cum. He wanted to be pinned and fucked so hard he would have to call off work the next day.

He whimpered as his toned thighs easily let him travel up and down the silicone. Silicone. He couldn't even get himself hard, he was soft, even with his ass stuffed and his prostate stimulated, he was soft. There wasn't a twitch, and even his prostate felt dull.

He groaned to himself, sliding off the dildo and reaching for his phone. He quickly unlocked it and pulled up his gallery with his singular 'clean' finger, quickly going to his hidden folder and clicking on the picture that always got him hard. Kirishima did a photoshoot nearly 6 months ago, he was in a kimono that was completely opened with white pants that banded to his stomach. He stared at Katsuki through the picture, a belt in his big, tanned hand. He already felt his cock harden slightly, a small frown painting his face as that was like a weak attempt at mimicking his usual reaction to the picture.

He slid back on the dildo propping his phone against his wall and started bouncing. He imagined those toned hands sliding against his back, barely touching him, and it was almost like he could feel it, his body twitching with slight interest. He imagined his voice, telling him to ride the dildo, training his hole for what was surely a monster cock, Eijirou too nice to let Katsuki destroy himself on his cock right off the bat...unless… What if he would just fuck him? And that got his reaction. His dick was fully hard now, but it wasn't aching with need like usual.

What if Eijirou would slam into him as soon as the dildo was out? Would he let Katsuki adjust, or would he pound him into oblivion with the raw power his body held?

He let out a moan, but the pleasure didn't last long as his phone started ringing. He nearly flinched, scowling at his phone for ruining what he worked hard for, but his face sofened as it was Kirishima calling him.

His mouth went dry, his eyes slightly wide. He doesn't know what really compelled him to answer the phone, but as Kirishima's voice rang through the other end, he couldn't help but bite his lip and shift on the dildo. "W-What do you need, Dumbass?" He asked, cursing himself for starting his sentence off weak. "Haha- Hey, Kat! I just wanted to made sure you were okay. You hit that rubble pretty hard today, and you left earlier than usual." His cheery, sober, voice said. Katsuki closed his eyes, slowly rolling his hips up the dildo, the familiar arousal burning in his stomach, finally.

He stifled a whimper, "M' fine, Shitty Hair…." He pretended to grumble out, desperate to think of something to keep him on the line as long as possible. "That's great! I was a little worried, y'know. Didn't want to lose the manliest man I've even known since highschool!" He said, and Bakugou's heart did a mixture of dropping and fluttering. He felt guilty for trying to get off to his voice, clearly ignorant and innocent, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that he didn't refer to him as his best friend which would usually put him down. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his hips, gasping as he accidentally his his prostate. He dropping the phone, slapping a hand over his face. "Katsuki!? What was that?" Kirishima urgently called. Bakugou's dick was on fire, his body was alight with arousal, if only Kirishima knew.

He hesitantly picked up the phone. "I'm f-fine~ Shitty Hair!" He replied, cursing himself for not stopping himself from slowly bouncing on the dildo again.

Silence.

He slightly wondered if he accidentally hung up, but there was still static. "I'm not stupid, Katsuki." Kirishima suddenly said. Bakugou froze. His voice was lower but soft, almost like he was hesitant to say it in the first place. "W-..What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, not daring to move on the dildo, even though he wanted to take advantage of Kirishima's tone so fucking bad.

"Are you getting off right now?" Kirishima asked, Bakugou suddenly became aware of how slick and schelchy the lube was. Bakugou's throat closed up, his mouth too dry to produce words. "Fuck…" Kirishima whispered, the sound making Bakugou's eyes widen. "Are you trying to fuck with me…?" He asked, but Bakugou wasn't deaf to the distant sound of Kirishima nearly break checking himself.

Bakugou whimpered quietly, but a part of him prayed that Kirishima heard him, and as his breath hitched over the phone, he knew he did.

"Fuck-" Kirishima groaned. Bakugou gasped at the sound, bouncing on the plastic lightly once again, the lewd noises surely reaching the phone. "C-Come over." Bakugou's stern voice said, once again sounding weak in the beginning. "Already on my way." Kirishima nearly whispered back.

Bakugou's body was on fire, every part of him was twitching. The call ended only a minute ago, and suddenly Bakugou's night was going to change who he was. He was hard, nervous, excited but horny above all else. As soon as he heard his front door open and nearly slam shut, Bakugou gasped, trying to let out his nerves. Heavy, fast footsteps made their way down his halls, and suddenly Bakugou was conscious about how he should present himself.

He didn't have time, and so he let himself be cocky, leaning forward on his hands, arching his back and rolling his hips on the silicone gracefully, and it probably looked a little too good based on how smooth the action felt. But he didn't have room for his usual pride, Kirishima was stuck in the doorway with his mouth slightly open and wide eyes. Bakugou looked at him in the mirror to his side, and his eyes were staring at him.

"Holy fuck.." He groaned, his hand slowly moving to his crotch, but he gripped the inside of his thigh. Mid. Thigh.

Bakugou's eyes widened as he finally had the rough sketch of Eijirou's cock in his mind, and fuck he wanted to go stupid with cock.

"C'mon…" Bakugou nearly whimpered, rolling his hips a little more dramatically. Kirishima groaned in the doorway, slowly walking into the room, Bakugou's position giving him the perfect view of his pink, glistening and stretched hole swallowing the silicone easily, the dildo's girth seemed pathetic to what Eijirou knew he had.

Eijirou knelt down behind him, and as Katsuki smiled, expecting him to caress his body, that didn't happen.

Kirishima quickly wrapped his hand around the smaller man's throat, yanking him back to meet his still clothed chest. Bakugou wheezed at the unexpected and sudden movement, but fuck if his own cock didn't love it already.

"Riding this pathetic dildo while I was out there concerned about you, hm?" He darkly whispered, his finger tips lightly digging into his neck. Bakugou whimpered, wiggling his hips back, trying to get a feel for the man's clothed cock for himself. Kirishima sighed, almost in disappointment. "Tell me.. What were you thinking about? Riding this pathetic excuse of a dildo." He asked, talking right into Bakugou's ear. Bakugou let out a stuttering breath, squirming in Kirishima's sturdy grip.

"Tell me."

Bakugou gasped at his dark tone paired with his hand gripping his entire neck roughly. He wasn't used to feeling so small compared to someone else, but fuck he was loving it.

"Y-You…" Bakugou gasped out as Kirishima loosened his grip just enough. "What about me..?" He asked, only slightly softer.

Katsuki's cock was aching, begging for the same attention Eijirou was giving his throat. "H-How hard you would fuck me- How big your cock is…" Bakugou finally admitted, squeezing his eyes shut.

Kirishima hummed in his ear, his hand moving to the back of Bakugou's neck instead and pulling him up to his feet. Bakugou let out a guttural moan as he was ripped off the dildo still suctioned to the floor.

Kirishima hummed, noting how the dildo really did look like a pathetic version of himself.

Kirishima dragged Bakugou to his bed, glaring at the blonde when he tried to move. He pulled off his own shirt and pants quickly before joining him on the bed. Bakugou's eyes quickly widened at the sight, his mouth slightly open and his face slightly filled with fear and shock, but quickly replaced with determination. "Better fucking prep me, asshole." Bakugou spit out, laying on his back.

He didn't expect Kirishima's rough nature to continue though. Eijirou glared at Bakugou before swiftly gripping his neck and pinning him further into the mattress. "Excuse you? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to right now? Order me around again, I fucking dare you." Kirishima spit out a look of fake disgust on his face. Bakugou was shocked by the moan that left him, more than happy with his decisions from tonight, at least so far.

He yelped as Kirishima's hand left his neck and grabbed his hips instead. Kirishima pulled his ass into the air, Bakugou's legs spreading automatically, falling to almost meet his chest. "W-What are you gonna do?" Bakugou asked, eyes wide with arousal. "None of your fucking buisness." Kirishima spit out, digging his thumbs into the stretched pink muscle. Bakugou gasped as Eijirou pulled his rim apart, testing just how stretched he was.

Bakugou saw his cock when he took off his pants, the way it weighed itself down, how his fingertips would definetly have trouble touching each other, and the fucking length- he wondered if Kirishima would actually show through his stomach…

As Kirishima added a finger to stretch and play with his rim, he decided to take down the roughness, only for a couple seconds though. "Use the traffic light system, okay?" He almost ordered, wanting to keep the same sexual energy but also let Bakugou know there was a safe way out. Bakugou's breath stuttered and he quickly nodded, having read enough fanfiction about being fucked by Kirishima and having done enough research to know something as simple as the traffic light system, and he's so fucking green.

Bakugou didn't expect a tongue to enter him though.

Bakugou nearly shouted, gripping at the sheets before pathetically trying to reach for the other man's head. "N-No!" Bakugou shouted, but it was moan filled and an empty request. Kirishima's eyes shifted to Bakugou, lapping his tongue over the blonde's rim before softly shoving it inside as far as he could.

Bakugou was squirming around at the foregin feeling, gasping every time he moved his tongue, it felt so warm, soft and perfectly wet.

Kirishima took his mouth away, licking his lips as he roughly slammed 3 fingers into the unsuspecting hole. He quickly spread them as far as he could, Bakugou's gasp turning into a pained moan. As Kirishima softly stroked his slightly pulsing insides, Bakugou was panting with wide eyes. "Beg." Kirishima ordered darkly, jamming his fingers into Bakugou as far as he could, hitting his prostate hard.

Bakugou moaned out, caving in on himself because of how Kirishima held his ass up. But he wouldn't beg.

After a few seconds of soft finger thrusting and no begging, Kirishima picked up the pace, slipping one of his fingers out, knowing Katsuki won't like the lack of fullness anymore. He jams his fingers into his prostate every time, Bakugou's eyes nearly crossing as he tries to arch his back but just keeps caving in on himself.

"Fucking. Beg." "F-Fuck you.." Bakugou responds, his voice shakey, the defiance fake and fragile. Kirishima's eyes narrow, a frown forming on his lips. "Fine." He replies, shifting one hand to Bakugou's abdomen and pressing, pleased with the slight fullness under a specific layer of muscle. He continued to slam into his g-spot, Bakugou's eyes widening and getting slightly watery. "W-Wait-!" Bakugou moaned out loud, slight panic coating his oh so beautiful face. The tip of his penis kept rubbing against Kirishima's arm, and he knew so much stimulation was working against him. He was either going to beg or piss himself.

"S-Stop! Too much- T-Too fucking much! I have to go you f-fuckkk-ing lunatic!" He moaned out, grabbing at Kirishima's arms. "Beg. Beg for me to fuck you, or you're going to piss yourself, get your clean sheets dirty, all unsatisfied and embarrassed. Poor little Katsuki couldn't hold his little blatter while I fucked you with my fingers." Eijirou cooed, tiliting his head a little before bending down and licking along the back of his thigh to the crease of his ass. He travels up to his sack and licks him firmly with the flat of his tongue.

Katsuki screams.

His clawing becomes frantic, and he's sure he's sobbing, but he's no match for even Kirishima's strength. "N-No! Ei- Stop! I-I'm gonna pee!" Katsuki cries, thrashing around as much as he can. But as Eijirou gently sucks in one of his balls, his resolve snaps. "Please! Please, please, please!" Katsuki finally cries, Eijirou's fingers slowing down and his hand letting up on his blatter. He moves away from Katsuki's cock and smirks down at the red and teary face below him.

"Please what?" He asks, Bakugou's eyes widening. "P...Please… Please fuck me… I want you to fuck me with your fat cock!" He cries, tears falling from his eyes.

Eijirou sighs, content with his work. "Good boy~" He coos, swiftly plunging 2 more fingers inside and spreading them. Katsuki gasps, looking up at Kirishima who refuses to look away from his face.

As Kirishima slowly pulls out, he bends over and grabs the lube from the floor, popping open the cap and pouring it into Katsuki. He flinches and wines at how cold it is, and Eijirou just travels the bottle to his cock, rubbing his hand over it and coating everything with lube.

As he sloppily closes the bottle, he moves Katsuki onto his stomach, Bakugou groaning as he was finally out of that horrid position.

Kirishima places the tip at his entrance, kissing Bakugou's nape, and right as Bakugou prepares for a dreadfully slow slide. Kirishima slams into the hilt. Bakugou's eyes shoot wide and his thrusted up further into the bed with the force, his mouth dropping open as a horrid moan filled scream leaves him.

This is it….he's not a virgin anymore…

He feels nothing but cock, painfully perfect cock that makes it hard to breathe.

Kirishima groans at the tight feeling, his body shaking as he convinces himself not to fuck Katsuki into oblivion.

Eijirou starts off slow, dragging his cock out halfway before pressing in again, the pace making them both groan. God, Katsuki's back tooks so fucking pretty all arched like that, delicate but strong all in one. He always knew Bakugou would look so pretty with his face burried in sheets, his ass high in the air and filled with his cock.

He feels himself slipping, his thrusts slipping into violent, angry lust every so often before he catches himself quickly.

But as Katsuki's sweet moans keep reaching his ears, he finally gives in, grabbing Katsuki's wrists and pulling them back, lifting Katsuki off the bed and using his wrists as leverage, pulling his weak body back onto his cock as he slams his hips into the man's ass.

"Holy fucking shit~" Bakugou's voice calls out as Kirishima's thrusts get rougher, violent. His voice bounced with the thrusts, his moans cutting each other off as Kirishima no longer cares about hitting the man's prostate, pounding into him purely for selfish pleasure Bakugou didn't know he was capable of.

"Fucking pathetic cocksleeve- Such a fucking whore for dick, huh? You fucking-love! -taking my fat cock like this!" Kirishima spits out, pulling on Katsuki's wrists harder. Bakugou's eyes are crossing, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

'Ruining me-'

"Not a single thought going through that head of yours, huh? Just taking my cock so good like this, loving how I ruin every other cock out there for you! Only my cock can make you cum, can make you feel so fucking good!" "Y-Yes~" Bakugou's broken voice cries out, tears sliding down his cheeks.

The bed is slamming into the wall so hard the pictures are rattling, and Bakugou can't register anything but cock, pleasure, Kirishima and cumming.

"So fucking good, so~ fUCKing go-od~" Bakugou sobs, not caring of the searing pain in his arms and shoulder blades. But as Kirishima angles his hips, he starts slamming into Bakugou's prostate, and as Bakugou tries to arch in Kirishima's hold, he cums. He clamps around his cock so hard Kirishima moans, letting go of Katsuki's arms and letting him fall face first into the bed as his entire body rocks with unbroken thrusts, shaking with the ongoing orgasm that never seems to end. Eijirou hears the sobbing and groans with pleasure, swinging his hand down to Bakugou's ass, growling as he watches the muscle and fat ripple with the perfect impact.

Kirishima puts his hands in the curve of Katsuki's spine, pressing him down and shifting forward, slightly sitting back on his calves as he jackhammers into Bakugou's swollen, red and oh so fucking soft boy cunt.

Katsuki is screaming but it's so distant to Eijirou, all he can hear is the squelching of his ass and all he can think of is cumming.

"FUCK- EIJIROU~" Katsuki screams, sobbing and begging for him to slow down, not to thrust so hard, not to be so brutal. He can't feel his limbs, all he can feel is the overstimulation as his body is pounded so hard he inches forward on his bed, only to be pulled back just as quickly. He feels like a cocksleeve because he is one.

Kirishima groans, finally slamming into Katsuki with all he has, his cock pulsing inside Bakugou almost like a slow vibrator. As Kirishima completely fills Katsuki's intestines with cum, his own cock spurts out a pathetic amount of it's own cum, his balls drawing up tight and his cock twitching with painful interest.

Kirishima and Bakugou are panting, and as Eijirou gives another overstimulated thrust for good measure, the both moan out.

"F-Fuck…." Kirishima groans, Katsuki panting into the sheets with wide, tired eyes.

He really did ruin Katsuki's chances at fucking anyone else. There's no way he can go back to toys, and there's no way he can fuck anyone else.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha imagines #kirishima #kirishima eijiro #kiribaku #kiribaku thirst #kiribaku smut #mha smut #mha thirst #bnha smut #bnha thirsts #kirishima thirst #bakugou smut #bakugou thirst #mha oneshot #smut #aged up

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eldrai · 3 years ago

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Sleepless Nights [Hotch/Morgan]

Whumptober 2022 - Day 19 - Prompt: head lolling

Summary: His head tilts forwards and jolts back up again. None the wiser to the milliseconds of sleep between them, Aaron just stares at the paper as if it'll make more sense the next time he reads it.

1.0k

Hotch/Morgan :)

Read on ao3

This is the exact opposite of the last fic, probably the fluffiest thing I'll write this entire month. Enjoy.

They don’t wake Aaron.

It’s just the sort of rule which falls into place without anyone mentioning it. The jet is one thing, when someone who’s asleep gets left asleep, but with Aaron it is a little firmer than that, operating on the general knowledge he’s running on much less sleep than he should be. Derek had known it even before he’d slept with him—knows now that the extent he’d imagined was far better than reality.

Sleepless nights aren’t exactly a rarity on the job, when the weight of everything they deal with turns suffocating at night, but a straight eight hours are for Aaron what those are to the rest of them.

He’s used to the tossing and turning in the evening, to the soft light from the living room or study spilling into the hall in the early hours of the morning, when sleep really isn’t happening. To the earthy aroma of the herbal stuff supposed to help—doesn’t seem to do much, in Derek’s opinion, and Aaron doesn’t seem to actually enjoy the taste but maybe it does do something. It can’t hurt. And the weekend often finds him catching up on half an hour here, an hour there, laid out on the couch or in bed on top of the covers. The insomnia comes in bouts, and it’s no exception for when they have a case.

The relative ease with which Aaron handles it suggests it’s a long-standing thing, one he’s adjusted to as best he can. Derek really doesn’t envy him. Their days are so long he can’t imagine not being able to crash out—hell, even two or three hours on a particularly fast case is a godsend, so having to go an entire day without any seems like it’d fall under cruel and unusual punishment. If there isn’t much he can do at home, unfamiliar hotels only exacerbate the problem, all creaking pipes and rowdy neighbours.

During a particularly bad couple of weeks, Aaron looks worse than he has in months one morning. Usually he manages an hour minimum but Derek had known without asking that Aaron hadn’t slept at all; he’d refused breakfast and the coffee he clearly did crave, nauseous and feverish from going without, and hadn’t eaten until midday when the hunger overwrote that. He’d gone through as much advil and tylenol as he could, neither of which had helped much with the headache, and though he was surprisingly present all things considered his eyes were a little dim with exhaustion.

Derek senses it’s a relief to be able to go home. Because he might not be able to sleep but there’s less of a presence demanded of him, less of a performance when it’s just the team; Aaron is allowed to be tired. He doesn’t like letting himself be but there’s nobody else holding him back.

Despite the bags under his eyes, Aaron sits down with the file propped up on his legs resting back against the table. Doing the paperwork at the minute is out of his reach—Derek has watched him rewrite the lot when he’s been dissatisfied with what he’d produced at the height of his tiredness, so really he’s glad Aaron has realised doing it now would be a fruitless endeavour—but reading over the details is easier. Familiarising himself like he’s going to somehow forget in the six hours until they’re back.

It doesn’t take long before Aaron slows down, taking longer and longer to read the words on the page until he’s rereading the same paragraphs multiple times. He wants to suggest that he lies down—and JJ meets Derek’s eyes and raises her eyebrows in a silent question, ready to move from the couch if he agrees—but Aaron being Aaron means that he’d refuse. And insomnia is a bitch: there’s a chance that just the little movement involved in resettling over there is enough to stave off the tiredness for a few more hours. When he’s falling asleep, it’s best let him sleep.

His head tilts forwards and jolts back up again. None the wiser to the milliseconds of sleep between them, Aaron just stares at the paper as if it’ll make more sense the next time he reads it.

Each time it happens he’s less and less focused, losing his place, trying to power through it to work—because of course he is. There’s not much Derek can do except sit back and wait and hope he succumbs instead of blinking his way through the wave of exhaustion. So that’s what he does.

It takes four full songs of nodding off and immediately waking up until Aaron’s head lolls forwards and he stays like that; his grip on the file starts to slip and Derek catches it before it can fall off his lap and spill the papers everywhere. He’s convinced there is nothing Aaron does the easy way. Still, he’s finally sleeping, his chest rising and falling to a slow, even rhythm.

Derek can’t help but wince at the position he’s in though, his neck bent forwards uncomfortably. Aaron had managed nearly four hours asleep like that once and they had all heard the crack when he straightened up. But a sore neck is a minor thing if it means he can get some overdue sleep.

He isn’t concerned for long.

They hit a patch of turbulence; nothing bad enough for the pilots to warn them about but it’s enough to jostle them around a little, coffee lapping at the side of their mugs. Aaron sighs and stretches out his legs. Derek hardly dares to move—waking up after ten minutes honestly seems worse than not falling asleep at all—but he only sinks back into the seat, head tipped back. Sitting so upright with the turbulence doesn’t last much longer than slumped over.

Aaron’s head tilts to the side and he rests against Derek’s shoulder with a quiet exhale, settling into a more comfortable position. With his own eyes closed, he almost goes for his hand before he remembers it’s the jet, not home. Not that he suspects the others mind—to the contrary, they’d just never escape the friendly teasing—but Aaron certainly would. So Derek smiles to himself and lets him lean against him, all the way back to Virginia if needs be.

#cm fanfic #hotch #morgan #hotchgan #whumptober 2022 #angst #fluff #eldrai does whumptober

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lonely-lost-soul · 4 years ago

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Little Fox

(C!Fundy x Reader)

Request 12: Hey if you're making a request, do you do c!Fundy? If so, can I get a Fundy x half fox shapeshifter!reader where fundy finds an injured full fox!reader, and takes her home to patch her up without knowing that she's a shifter ówò? Context, the reader can shift into three forms: full fox, half and half(fox legs, tail, ears, fangs), and fully human. Thank you have a blessed day!!!

Requested By: Anonymous

Moving away from L’manburg or what was once L’manburg was one of the best decisions Fundy has ever made. Did it get lonely from time to time, sure, but at least he was finally at peace. He was away from his ghost of a father and away from the drama of everyone else fighting and the looming sense of death that lingered over everyone that lived in the once-prosperous nation. It was quiet and he was happy to be left alone, well, mostly alone. There was one exception, a snow-white fox that trotted around his house from time to time, curious (e/c) watching him with intent. He had always felt a connection to foxes considering he was part fox, he hated seeing them hurt or starving or treated with disrespect, so he kept them around. However the white fox didn’t seem to pay him any mind other than silently watching and wandering around his home, he started placing food out for the fox. This went on for a few months until one night something felt off. Fundy kept glancing out the window, almost like he was expecting to see someone but no one popped up until he remembered his little buddy. He didn’t know why it sent him so on edge, it was just a random arctic fox maybe it was the way the food was left untouched or the pull he felt to go the woods, but he grabbed his coat and stepped into the forest.

The first thing he noticed was the small animal prints littering the snow, there seemed to be some sort of scuffle. Worry entered his veins and his ears pressed flat against his head, he journeyed deeper into the forest and noticed little droplets of blood. Fundy adjusted his hat nervously and followed the blood droplets, crumpled on the ground in front of his feet was a blood-stained fox. The once pure white coat of the fox was stained with red splotches a big gash was torn from its side, Fundy felt nauseous. The wind seemed to blow against his exposed ears, almost urging him to pick up the fox and take it home. He reached out and picked the fox up in his arms and held it close, the wind blew again, his eyes widened a little in surprise, the wind seemed to whisper a thank you.

Back at the house he laid the fox down on his couch and began to patch up her wounds. Hopefully, she wouldn’t attack him in the morning, be too freaked out, he wrapped the bandages around the wound stopping the flow of blood. He just prayed his foxy friend would be alive come the morning light. Fundy flicked the lights off and went to sleep in his bedroom, even though all the windows were shut and locked tight he still felt that odd breeze tickle the tufts of his ears. ‘Take good care of her’ it seemed to whisper, his heart thudded in his chest as he snuggled under the covers. The morning sun streamed through his windows, blinding the hybrid slightly, he groaned loudly and sat up in bed. He ran his sharp nails through his hair tussling it a little bit, trying to calm the rat’s nest down. As snapped to consciousness fully when he noticed footsteps coming from his living room, very human-sounding footsteps. Fundy tensed and hopped out of bed storming into the room, a dagger in hand. He let out a startled shriek seeing a beautiful half-naked young woman standing in the middle of the room. However, he couldn’t even focus on that, he was more focused on the snow-white fox ears that sat atop her head, the fluffy tail behind her, and the fox-like legs.

She was like him.

“Fundy right?” She sent him a crooked smile, sharp fangs very visible, making him feel all types of things. “Names, (Y/n) and you saved my life last night.”

“You- Fox?! but- human-” His hands tangled in his orange hair mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that he had probably saved a forest spirit. “No shirt!” he sputtered feeling soft hands take his own, he noticed a smile on her lips, their eyes locked together,

“I’m a shifter. A pleasure to officially meet you.” He felt you squeeze his palms and he swallowed thickly,

“Shifter?”

He watched you nod tail swishing from side to side, you were very happy to be talking to him it seemed, Fundy felt oddly honored. “I have three forms! Full fox, half fox, and fully human,” You explained holding up three fingers on your hand. “Usually full fox is easier but as you can see,” You motioned to the bandages covering your chest, “it’s not without risks.”

“Hold the phone you’re telling me the fox I’ve been feeding-”

“Yup! That was me!” You giggled as his cheeks went red, “I appreciated it.”

“I gave you dog food! I’m so sorry, oh my god!” He sputtered out completely mortified by the situation. You let out a roaring laugh, it was very reminiscent of that of a fox but he supposed that, that made sense. He watched you dip your head and nuzzle underneath his chin, once again he felt his entire face burn red, your ears were so soft, the fur tickling his chin.

“It’s okay, I didn’t eat any of that. Just pretended.” You reassured lifting your head to once again meet his eyes. “Soooo...you gonna tell me your name? Or should I just call you handsome?” He felt the blush spread down onto his neck,

Oh no, she was so cute.

“Fundy! I’m Fundy.” He nodded more stiffly than he wanted too suddenly very aware of how close the both of them were to one another. You blinked after a few minutes peaking around his shoulder, oh shit was his tail wagging? A bright smile spread across your cheeks “Laugh it up okay! Not every day I get to have a cute fox girl nuzzle against me alright!” Your ears fell flat against your head, he watched pink spread across your cheeks, score.

“Cute?” You meekly whispered you pulled away a little to grab at your tail shyly, “Thank you.”

He was going to die, you were going to be the death of him.

After that first encounter, you, the real you, had become a staple of his life. You had moved with him a few days after showing your more human form to the hybrid. You knew how to cook which made him swoon, it tasted divine, he was tired of being alone. You made him feel like he still had hope, you were his family now even after only knowing you for such a short amount of time. There was an odd sort of bond the two of you had, he was happy to have someone understand him, on a level that no one has ever been able to before, especially not his father. Days rolled into weeks and weeks turned into months, it was about eight months in when Fundy finally confessed to you.

You’d spent the day away from home, in your full fox form, saying you needed to stretch your legs and Fundy let you go. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a mess all day worrying about your well-being all day, he barely could get anything done, so when he saw your white fur streak through the trees that night he knew you were home. He ran out onto the stones of the path and called out your name, he watched your ears twitch and turned towards him. He felt his tail begin wagging ecstatically and he could see yours begin to do the same, you charged headfirst towards him shifting as you run, as you arrived he held out his arms and you jumped right on in them. He felt your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you into the air. He spun you around as he laughed,

“I missed you, Dee!” You purred out happily leaning back a little bit in his arms, he still held you above the ground.

“I missed you too Dearheart,” Fundy whispered looking up at your sparkling eyes it was then, with your white fur shining in the moonlight that he realized he was in love with you. “(Y/n)?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You breathed out softly, cheeks pink, ears twitching, “I’d like that very much.”

So, he did.

Two years being together of being together was finally when Wilbur- or ghostbur- decided to visit his son. You were outside in the garden, tending to some of Fundy’s vegetables deadset on using some of the fresh ones to make soup for tonight. You were in your human form so you didn’t get your white fur covered in dirt, so you didn’t hear the ghost coming close to the house until he was leaning over your shoulder.

“Hello!”

You screamed like a little kit throwing your basket through the ghost who shivered at the foreign feeling.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The ghost apologized adjusting the round glasses on his face. “I heard my son Fundy lives around here but I must be mistaken!”

“Are you...you’re Wilbur aren’t you?”

“Oh! You’ve heard of me! Was it my music, please say yes!” The ghost’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, he shrunk a little as he watched you shake your head, “oh…”

“I’m-”

“(Y/n)! I heard you scream, you alright?” Fundy peeked his head out the door eyes going big seeing his dead father standing beside you. Wilbur looked between the both of you before a tiny smirk spread across his face,

“Ohhhhhh, I see now.” Wilbur nodded watching his son’s face go red, “My little champion is all grown up! With a beautiful human to mind you!”

“Er...not exactly.” You mumbled, allowing your ears and tail to pop up from your head, Wilbur’s jaw dropped in shock and awe.

“She’s like you!” Wilbur gaped reaching up to touch your ears, you flinched a little, and Fundy snarled at his father. “Sorry, sorry,” He pulled his hand back with a sheepish smile Fundy finally walked over to the both of you, pushing you behind him only slightly.

“What’re you doing here dad?” His voice was gruffer than you’ve ever heard it, his tail was puffed up in a way you’ve never seen before from your boyfriend.

He was on edge.

Wilbur shuffled a little fumbling with a piece of something blue in his hands. “I just wanted to check up on my son. No one’s heard from you for a while we’re all getting a little worried. I love you so-”

“Dad.” He groaned pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose pinching it, “look. I appreciate you’re all worried but I’m happier here.”

“But you’re all alone out here! It’s not good for anyone’s health, especially not a young fox!”

“Excuse you?” Your eyes narrowed in offense, “I lived out here all my life.” You bristled in frustration, “I turned out fine.” Wilbur eyed you warily and Fundy squeezed your palm tightly, “I did!”

“I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just looking out for my son.”

“No offense but I think he can look after himself just fine.” You shot right back and Fundy covered up a surprised laugh, “So far so good. Plus he’s not alone, I’m with him.” You squeezed Fundy’s hand rather tightly, as Wilbur glanced at your intertwined hands.

“What she said.” Fundy nodded his head, “we have each other and that’s all we need. At least for right now. So try not to worry too much.” He waved his dad off, “Now if you don’t mind we have dinner to cook.” Wilbur gave a hesitant nod before turning back to look into your eyes,

“Don’t hurt him.”

“I don’t plan on it," You assured nodded your head you both had a brief staring contest before Wilbur said his official goodbyes and headed on his way. “I’m sorry,” Fundy watched your ears fall flat against your head.

“What for?” Fundy’s brows furrowed in concern, “He was being an ass, you had every right to defend yourself. Plus I hate him so.” He shrugged unbothered, “I love you though.” He pecked your cheek and you smiled shyly.

“I love you too Dee.” You spoke softly, pulling him close by his jacket, his tail began to wag enthusiastically.

“Kiss?”

“Kiss.” You nodded standing on your tiptoes to give him a long kiss, he purred tangling his fingers through your hair. You pulled away much too soon for his liking and let out a low whine, you giggled happily and peppered his face in light kisses. “Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s get married.”

“What?”

~~~

Next Up: Immortality and Nymphs Part II

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vicious-vixxxen · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, first of all ur work is amazing and awesome, especially the Kiri fics they make me feel so warm inside :)) ANYWAYS I have a drabble idea: Katsuki with a flirty male reader from 1-B that likes to tease him and make him flustered and fired up as much as possible (kinda like Monoma but not as aggressive) and finally Katsuki decides that it’s reader’s turn to get all flustered and blushing and all that hehe :)

AH I absolutely LOVE this idea! Sorry it took me so long to get to it babes, but I hope you enjoy it :3 <3 Bakugou Katsuki X Flirty Male!Reader

“You think /you’re/ tired? I heard class A had to go through ten times the beasts we did yesterday, /and/ they didn’t get to camp until five.” TetsuTetsu huffed, rolling his eyes as he continued to rub at his sore biceps- falling behind as the class walked to their first official day of training. “They’re probably still struggling to work as an actual unit, how disappointing,” Monoma drawled, flinching as Kendo raised a hand at him in warning- her gaze cutting back to you with an apologetic smile, but you shrugged her off. “I’m just saying, if they were half as good as everyone assumes they are, then we wouldn’t have had to make dinner for everyone /alone/ yesterday. A bunch of unimpressive slackers, the fame is definitely getting to them.” “Oh give it a rest, Monoma! I swear if I have to keep listening to your incessant whining i’m going to roundhouse you so hard you slip into an alternate dimension,” You teased, though the sharpness of your tone, and the look you fixed the other boy with managed to reduce him to nothing more than some bitter grumbling, as you jogged ahead to follow directly behind Vlad-Sensei.

“Young Y/N is right! No use in comparing yourself to a separately tiered class, what you all should be doing is preparing yourselves for a day full of grueling training!” Vlad called out to the class behind him, as they came to their final stop. Looking out across the vast fields of the camp, where class 1A was already deep in training. All of them spread out to various areas of the site, some farther out than others, you assumed due to the volatile nature of their quirks. Some out of site all together, given the specificity needed to train their quirks. “The Wild Wild Pussycats have strict regimens for you all to follow, and I as well have critiques for you all regarding your fighting style, and quirk application. Check in with them across the field first, and regroup back to me so we can begin!” “Yes Sensei!” You all chanted back, before hurrying off across the field to do as you were told. Though once you caught sight of- and really, it was more his blood curdling death screams that you noticed first, music to your ears honestly- unruly blonde spikes off in the distance, you reasoned you had at least a few minutes to spare. Giving your classmates time to get their schedules and regimes before you could swoop in for yours last minute. The heat from Bakugou’s blasts was intense- your hair blowing back each time the other boy extended his palms to the sky, screamed, and released an explosion. The air felt thick, the scent of sweaty flesh, and deep, rich caramel wafting against your face, heady, and thick, with each blast. It was intoxicating. The closer you got, the more your cheeks flushed- though it had nothing to do with the heat anymore. Up close, or as close as you could get without being blown back entirely, that is- the more handsome Bakugou became. Pinched, angry expression and all. His front fringe of hair hanging low on his forehead, dripping sweat down onto his cheeks, and then onto the exposed upper half of his chest, bared due to his low rising tank top. When was Bakugou not absolutely breathtaking, you wondered idly, as you reached into your backpack for a bottle of water, and whistled loudly between blasts to catch the blonde's attention. Though the glare he fixed you with as your eyes met almost, almost deterred you from closing the distance between you both, it didn’t quite reach the innermost parts of your brain, meant for rational thought. “What the hell do you want!? Can’t you see i’m busy? Take your ass back to your class, extra!” Bakugou shouted, gaze falling to the bottle of water in your hand, before he focused back in on his task, baring his teeth in pain as the boiling water engulfed his hands. But you were too close now, it was too risky, and before you could think to back away on your own, Bakugou was crowding up against you. Spinning around on his heels and blasting in the opposite direction, back to you now. Shoving you backwards so hard with his own body you fell to the ground. Hissing as you landed on a particularly sharp rock. “See what you did?! I could’ve accidentally taken someone else out because of you! Fucking...gimme that,” Bakugou growled, shaking his hands of the smoke from his blast, before bending down to snatch the chilled bottle of water from your hand with one of his- his other reaching down to take hold of the front of your shirt, and tug you back up to stand next to him. “Always in my way!” Bakugou hissed, before throwing his head back and chugging down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. Wiping at his mouth roughly, he turned to you slightly, noting the mischievous smile on your face, and the dirt on your shorts. “Tch...what?” He asked, knowing he was walking himself right into a trap. “Just admiring the view,” You sing-songed, skirting around his sudden extended fist easily, and dancing around the boy to get a good look at his training clothes. “It’s not everyday I get to see UA’s own Bakugou Katsuki in the midst of an intense training session. All sweaty, and bulking- muscles just….grr,” You laughed, holding your hands up in front of your face as you growled and made pawing motions at the other boy- bursting into a fit of laughter ass he reeled back, blush high on his cheeks, fingers twitching with the urge to blas your fucking face off. “You’re an insufferable piece of!-” “What I can’t seem to wrap my head around, is how you have such a big chest, such defined shoulders, and such a teeny, tiny waist,” You sighed, cutting Bakugou off with your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side curiously as you scanned him up and down. “Your tits are bigger than most of the girls in your class, ya know,” You added, as if an afterthought, waving a hand passively at the thought, though you couldn’t help but grin as Bakugou charged you- dragging you up by the front of your shirt again, and pinning you to the barrel of boiling water. One hand holding your head down near the bubbling surface, and one right next to your ear, sparking with unlit nitroglycerin. “I. Don’t. Have. Tits. You. Shitty. Extra.” Each word was laced with venom, husky and full of rage right next to your ear, and god. Was it fucked up you were kind of turned on? Probably. About as fucked up as it was to be genuinely attracted to Bakugou in the first place, you supposed. Oh well. Not much to be done about it now. “Say that to the mounds pressing up against my back right now, babe,” You teased, turning your head to face Bakugou, your noses barely brushing as you leaned in as best you could, given the hand in your hair- mouth curling into a knowing smirk as Bakugou’s face twisted back and forth- confusion, rage, annoyance, misunderstanding...want. “I’m sure your teacher would be thrilled to see you over here keeping one of my students from his training, instead of focusing on your own abilities,” Someone sighed from your right, and both you and Bakugou’s head whipped up to see Aizawa leaning against a tree, staring at the both of you with the most bored expression you could imagine someone having. “Tried to get the loser away from me, but he’s as persistent as the rest of his annoying class,” Bakugou huffed, letting you go, but not before pushing you in the direction of his teacher roughly- crackling his knuckles out in front of himself, and shaking his hands out. Prepared to continue his training. Though thoughts of your stupid face, so close to his- scent of your shampoo, and minty breath still searing his nose made him a trillion times more annoyed then he’d already been. The color of your eyes stuck with him the most though. So clear. So shiny. Full of authority, of mirth, and something so...gut wrenchingly /cute/, he couldn’t stand it. “Sorry, EraserHead. Didn’t mean to disturb your student. Was just being friendly is all,” You assured the older Hero, hands up in surrender as you walked alongside side him, and back to regroup with your class- smiling smugly to yourself when you noticed the barest hint of a smirk on Eraserheads face, just before he turned away and skulked off to whatever dark, cozy corner he had been observing his students from.

Training felt like it had lasted forever, and then some. The following days were no easier. Your bodies were pushed to their limits, and then thrown off the metaphorical cliff afterwards. Every day, class A and B were sore, tired, irritable. But even then, once lunch, and dinner came around, it offered you all a chance to get to know one another more intimately. You talked, and mingled with class 1A- flirting with Todoroki for fun, and picking Midoriya’s brain about his hero notebook- unaware of the red eyes following your every move amongst the classmates. Your flirting with Bakugou was at an all time high- given you could usually spare a handful of minutes each day teasing the young man, whether it be with words during training, lingering touches, or brushes of hands, and legs during dinner, or with outright winks, and kisses blown to the blonde as you all departed to your cabins for the night. It infuriated Bakugou to no end. Your presence. The way he acted out against you...his mother would suggest he needed an attitude adjustment, and that he should allow the fun part of camp to take precedent over his ultimate number one hero goal. As if he’d ever. But still, her frustrated words of encouragement never ceased to ease up as the days went by, and you became bolder with your flirting. Bakugou felt on edge constantly, like someone was going to crack a whip at him at any moment. Say something about it, say something about /him/, but no one ever did. Probably because they were scared. His only saving grace, he supposed. Being intimidating. Though he didn’t intimidate /you/, which was the part he hated the most. ...He’d just have to switch up his tactics, then. His mother would be proud. God, he hated that. After a particularly grueling day of training, everyone was running on fumes, more or less, as they shuffled around the outdoor kitchen, prepping dinner lazily. Monoma picking stupid fights with whoever he came across first, as though he were too tired to even do that. You’d been chatting quietly to Mina and Jirou about some of your favorite albums, when a whistle from across the counters had all three of you lifting your heads. Curiosity piqued to the fullest extent, as your gaze landed on Bakugou- pointing at you with a hard expression, before gesturing to the spot next to him at the cutting board station. His eyes downcast again before you could even register what was going on, before hurrying to head over before whatever demon that had possessed Bakugou, decided to get the fuck out of such a toxic human host. Beaming, you came to stand at Bakugou’s side, arms brushing against each other as you glanced down at the finely minced veggies the boy was working on. “You rang?” Brows raised in question, you ducked your head to try and catch the boy’s eyes again- stopping dead in your tracks as he grabbed a hold of your wrist tightly, and slid a knife between your fingers. Tugging you impossibly closer to his side, and reaching an arm around you to grab a stray carrot. Boxing you into the bench, and maneuvering your fingers carefully as he began to force you to chop the carrot below. His front was flush with your back, and suddenly you couldn’t breath. Breath hitched in your throat, flush high on your cheeks, as Bakugou bent down, face right next to yours, as he forced you to chop, knife always skirting a little /too/ close to your fingertips, but fuck it all if you weren’t willing to lose them for this encounter to continue. “All this time and you haven’t even learned to chop properly. Make yourself more useful, you shitty extra,” He grunted, right into your ear. A sharp shock of arousal shooting down your spine as he spoke, looking away suddenly as Bakugou turned to try and meet your gaze. “Eh? What’s the problem, extra? Cat got your fucking tongue?’ He teased, harshly, though his grasp on your hands lessened, and fuck you were gonna pass out if you didn’t start breathing soon. “Oh,” He huffed suddenly, snickering under his breath, as he crowded you in up against the bench entirely, completely flush with your back, before his lips ghosted the shelf of your ear, and he whispered “-probably because of my big tits, huh? Tch.” And then he was gone. Gone from your back, gone from the shell of your ear, gone from giving you a religious fucking experience, and thankfully gone from nearly making you jizz your jeans in front of the entireety of class A and B. Your hands shook where they now held the knife solo, and you glanced over your shoulder- watching Bakugou stuff his hands in his pockets, arch his shoulders, and stalk off to the cabins. Though not before you also caught the sharp, devilish smirk that twisted up on his face. What a fucking DICK. But a dick who was handsome as fuck, and knew exactly what he was doing. “Alright, Bakugou, you wanna play, big boy?” You whispered to yourself, voice shaky as you continued chopping vegetables. “I’ll bite. Show you how it’s done...right after I pass out, Jesus fucking Chri-”

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legends-of-apex · 4 years ago

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‘The Morning After’ - Kung Lao x Reader (fluff)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,286

A/N: Hello! Here’s this short follow-up to the last Kung Lao x GN!Reader fic that also fulfils a request made by Anonymous! Thank you all so much again for your kind words and support for the last fic, you guys are amazing! Hope you all enjoy! Promise there’ll be some more soon, including some Liu headcanons ☺️ also if anyone would like to be added to my tag list for MK characters or just in general, please let me know! Didn’t want to assume so haven’t tagged anyone from the last fic just in case! Just so you guys know, I use quite hefty paragraph breaks just because it makes things easier for me personally when reading because of dyslexia, if you guys don’t like this or if there’s any adjustments I can make to have these fics be easier for you to read then please let me know!

Liu knocked on your door firmly, his knuckles reddening. He took a step back and folded his arms behind his back, not wishing to startle you when you came to the door. When he received no response even after a minute or so, a sigh escaped him.

He knocked again.

The sound was louder this time and he was sure you would have heard him now. With a sense of accomplishment, he flicked his red sash to the side and straightened his posture again in preparation for greeting you. No response. His brow furrowed. This wasn’t like you at all.

Knowing he probably shouldn’t but overcome with the need to see if you were in there, he eyed the doorknob. A pattern was beginning to emerge in his mind, Kung Lao wasn’t in his room either. He was worried something had happened and no one thought to wake him. But he had already asked everyone of his whereabouts and had already checked the fight pit. No one had seen you or Kung Lao all morning, although Kano did have a strange reply.

He turned the doorknob gently, only to find that door was unlocked. He let the door open just a crack and called out for you quietly. When again, he heard nothing, he opened the door even further this time and took a single cautious step inside.

Your room was dark, the curtains still shut despite the time of day. He could see your faint outline atop the bed in the darkness. A mound beneath the covers. And in the interest of not startling you, he crept quietly towards the side of the bed, once more questioning whether he should raise you from your slumber. But if anyone had seen Lao it was you and he wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew his friend was safe. He knew you would be concerned to learn of Lao’s absence and convinced himself he was doing you a favour by waking you.

He called your name into the darkness once more and a groan escaped you. He heard the covers rustling and lit the fire in his palm so he could walk to your bedside without tripping over everything that was strewn across the floor. He had never known you to leave things so untidily.

When he reached your bedside, he dimmed the fire slightly so as not to startle. He whispered your name again and let the flame illuminate your face ever so slightly.

A metallic clang sounded from across the other side of the room and something beside you on the bed moved. Liu was worried now. Letting his fire grow larger so he you and whatever else was in your room more clearly.

“Liu?” Your voice brought his attention back to you and away from the sound. You rubbed your eyes and pulled the covers over your face even more, shying away from the light of his flames.

The light from the fire caught the gleam of something metallic beside you. “Liu? I just about killed you!” Lui directed the flames so he could see the person attached to the second voice.

“Lao?!” The man in question brought his hand to his eyes to shield them from the light, lowering his hat and placing it beside the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here? I could’ve sliced you!” He asked as you fumbled for the light switch and found it. You couldn’t help but wince as the sudden brightness flooded the room. Lao did too, flopping back down beside you now that he knew it was just Liu Kang creeping around your room.

Liu quenched his flame, “Looking for you!” He replied, eyes widening when he realised precisely what had transpired.

You lay on your side, covers pulled over your chest but your shoulders were bare. Lao’s torso was only half covered as he lay beside you. Suddenly the layer of clothes blanketing the floor and Lao’s absence from his own room made sense. A smile spread across Liu’s face as the full realisation hit him.

“What time is it Liu?” You asked, not entirely caring that he had essentially just caught the two of you in the aftermath of sleeping together.

“Late enough that your absence was a concern.”

You cursed. “Did Raiden notice?!” You asked, Lao took a hold of your hand.

“No, he is otherwise occupied.” You both breathed a sigh of relief and visibly sank back into your bed, “And I can see that you’re both more than okay, so I will be on my way. Apologies for my intrusion.” He shot Lao a knowing look, a look that said he was getting teased to high heaven later on. He was delighted for you both, truly he was but that didn’t mean Lao was getting off without getting teased.

“Don’t worry, you know I won’t breathe a word of this.” He told you, sensing your concern, “Please don’t keep each other too long, you both have duties to attend to this afternoon that require the presence of clothing.”

“An hour?” You asked, knowing you were pushing your luck but you truly couldn’t bring yourself to leave the comfort of your bed, especially not with Kung Lao beside you.

“An hour.” Liu nodded his head once and you would have gotten up to hug him had you not been bare. “But please lock the door next time.”

With that he slipped out the door and closed it behind him. You couldn't be bothered getting up to lock the door. You had no idea where your key was anyways. They were probably strewn on the floor somewhere along with the rest of the items you had on you last night.

You felt a hand glide around your waist once more and you turned to face Kung Lao where he lay beside you. His hair was a mess, all fluffed up and sticking out in all different directions. You smoothed it down by running it through with your fingers. His eyes closed at the feeling of your touch on his scalp and a content breath left him. When you were finished you let the back of your hand rest against his cheek. His eyes opened once more, his gaze so soft and full of adoration that you had to look away to save yourself from blushing.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” You replied, a smile gracing your lips as he ran his fingers up and down your arm.

“So we have an hour…” He smiled, looking up at you from beneath his brows as he leaned to press a kiss to your shoulder. “We do indeed. How shall we spend such precious time?”

“Might I hold you once more?” Your heart melted. He really was just grateful for the chance to have you in his arms. You nodded eagerly in reply, shuffling closer to him. You were almost painted on to one-another like a second skin for most of the night, or until Liu came in as far as you could tell. He was such a warm presence that you found yourself forgetting what it felt like to ever truly be cold.

One of his hands found your thigh, helping you hike your leg over his so you could be closer to him. You let yourself cling to him like a teddy bear, utterly lost in the feeling of having his body so near.

“Rest if you need to. I can wake you when it’s time.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before letting you nuzzle your nose into his neck. You could stay like this forever but you would have to settle for an hour.

@dragon-chica

#kung lao #Kung Lao x reader #mortal kombat 2021 #mortal kombat #fic #my writing #k.exe #mine #liu kang

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fang-natic · 4 years ago

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Sing, Nightingale (part 2) - keigo tamaki x top!m!reader

cw: noncon, bondage, overstimulation, oversensitivity, drugging, gagging/blindfolding, bdsm elements, marathon fucking, creampie, manipulation

an: i guess the reader has a fucking quirk. fucking machine quirk? that could totally be a thing in the mha-verse right? doesn't that little grape bitch have anal beads for a superpower? why do i even care i have a test tomorrow AHHH

you don't need to read part 1 for this but it might clear up some context lol

"You probably know this by now, but the drug I injected you with isn't an aphrodisiac," you explain, hands adjusting their grip on Keigo's thighs. "Rather, it's designed to heighten your nerve sensitivity, without allowing them to become numb from excessive stimulation. If I wanted, I could've taken the easy route after drugging you and done the old school torture method, with fired pokers and leather belts and whatever, but," and you punctuate this with a thrust that pushes the hero up against the headboard of the rickety old bed. "But, I think I like this method much better, don't you?"

Keigo doesn't respond, which isn't a surprise. Even if you hadn't pushed military-grade earplugs into his ears, or shoved a gag between his teeth, you doubt he'd be able to say anything at all. Not with how you've been brutally fucking him for the past three hours or so, with no breaks. There's a mess smeared on his stomach of his own dried cum, and his nipples are flushed dark and swollen from your abuse, marked around the edges by teeth marks. His cock is limp against the crease of his thigh, hardly leaking anything more than a clear fluid now, twitching occasionally. He stopped moving about a half-hour ago, going entirely limp with only the occasional twitch or desperate head-shake when he felt you aiming for his wings, his cock, his overly sensitized prostate. Every orgasm you wrung out of him now was dry, and clearly painful, making his back arch and legs tense, as if electrocuted.

You slow to check that he hasn't passed out, landing a harsh slap against his ass (now entirely bright red, because you couldn't help watching how it jiggled with each blow you dealt it, or how Keigo whimpered and tightened up each time. You went a little overboard) and getting a musical little whine in return, his back arching slightly. Still awake, then.

You check your watch - it's been an hour since last you stopped, when you pulled out his gag and one of the earplug and asked if he was ready to talk. It'd taken him ten seconds to find the breath to answer, each gasp punctuated by a breathy moan. He wasn't smiling or cocky anymore, but he responded through gritted teeth and in a rough snarl: "Get fucked."

You had sighed in response, replaced his gag, and continued, grabbing his wings and using them to pull him onto your cock, earning a muffled scream in return. What a resilient little brat. He'd been tight, almost impossibly so when you first started out, even despite the vibrators you had just dragged out of him. You'd made him cum twice on your fingers alone as you stretched him up with minimal lube, and even then he was like a vice, clutched around you, a tight heat pulling you in. It'd taken a good fifteen minutes of slow, unrelenting thrusts until he started loosening up, after which you set a rapid pace that drove screams out of him.

You decide it's time to check again, and see if he's changed his mind. A string of drool follows the gag as you pull it out of his slack mouth, his lips red and swollen. When your hand ghosts near his ear to remove the earplugs, he shivers, jerking his head away.

You lean in with your face near his ear, voice dropped to a low whisper. "Well, Keigo? Are you ready to talk?"

His mouth opens and closes, bruised throat working as he tries to say something. Maybe you should've gone a little easier with the choking, but it'd been so fun watching him wriggle in your grip, cumming every time you loosened enough for him to get some air. Though it was counterproductive, now that your little info source was, apparently, too fucked out to speak.

"If you don't answer in the next five seconds, it'll be another hour before you get another chance." You warn, placing a hand on his spent dick to emphasize the point.

He shakes his head desperately, mouth falling open: "Please please please no no I can't-" He babbles, trying to work his way backwards, away from your touch. You follow him, grinding your palm against his balls and watching him cry out, legs jerking around you. "Sto-op-!"

"Then tell me what I want to know."

He nods frantically. His cheeks beneath the blindfold are flushed bright pink and smeared with that eyeliner that he always wore, running and and rinsed away by tears. A line of drool traces down the corner of his mouth. Sweat sticks his hair to his neck and forehead. That famous body of his is marked up with bites, hickeys, bruises, and pink welts where the ropes had chafed; he doesn't look anything like the hero so frequently see on billboards and magazine covers. He looks helpless and pathetic, broken down and sobbing on your dick.

It's a good look on him, you note absentmindedly, as you take record his shaky recollections of building maps, security codes, hero locations. It's all invaluable data, stuff that would surely sell nicely on the market. Golden eggs dropped by your trussed-up goose.

"Good boy," You praise him, running your hand through his hair, and even that point of contact is enough to make him shiver. "Was that so hard?"

You hook a finger under his blindfold and slide it off, revealing eyes that are red and glassy. He blinks in the sudden light, finding even that stimulus to be too much. "Please..."

"Ah. You probably won't be able to get out of here yourself. Not without the antidote, huh?" He nods, perking up, hopeful at the mention of an antidote. Without it, it'd probably take much longer for him to go back to normal, if he ever did at all. You reach into your pocket and pull out a tiny vial. "I'll give you a choice. I'll give you the antidote, but leave you here to get rescued by other heroes. Or, I drop off you outside, still drugged. Which one?"

"First one," He says without hesitation, and you smile.

"Clever boy." You unscrew the vial, and watching him, tip its contents down your own throat. He cries out at that, despair pinching his face as you swallow loudly, and you grin.

"Don't worry. You're going to get the antidote. It just has a unique method of transfer that I think you'll like." And you settle between his legs again, throwing his knees over your shoulders. His hole, puffy and abused, twitches against your tip.

"I-I can't," He sobs, twisting fruitlessly. "I can't, I'll die."

"Don't be so dramatic," You line yourself up, leaning forward to bend him in half and plant a teasing kiss on his nose. "You're a hero, aren't you?"

You push in, bottoming out in one fast motion, and he tosses his head back and wails through his ruined throat, full on crying as you fuck him with all the relentlessness of a machine. No longer trying to drag an orgasm out of him, you fuck him for your own pleasure. You feel the antidote working its way through you, pooling into a heat that builds in your gut, your cock filling out and pulsing dangerously hot. You really did have to hand it to Dr. Garaki, he really was a creative genius.

"You're so good, Keigo. Fuck, you should just stay like this," You pant, finally letting go of your composure to press bruising hands into his neck and fuck him into the mattress. "I've fucked you almost to death but you're still so tight and hot for me. You're a subpar hero and a shit spy, but you're the perfect whore," He chokes, mouth falling open as he blinks unseeing, teary eyes at you. "The next time I catch you, I'm not gonna let you go."

You spill inside him, filling him so completely that it leaks out around the edges of your cock. His eyes roll back, and as you remove your hands, he cums hard, cock dripping weakly onto his own gasping face, eyes rolled up as his entire form trembles with the force of it.

He's completely passed out now, dead to the world as you gather up your things. In a few hours, the antidote will get absorbed into his system and work its way through his body, calming down his nerves until he reached normalcy. Until then, you leave him with a little gift - a vibrating butt plug, big enough to fit snugly in his gaping hole and keep him full with your cum, and fiddle with the settings to have it go off at random intervals.

As you turn to go, you snap a picture of the debauched hero, laid out on the bed like a two-bit whore, and send it to the Hero Organization. 'Come get your little bird. ;)'

#dark content #fang-natic works #dark fantasy #mha keigo x reader smut #mha hawks smut #mha hawks x reader smut #mha smut #tw: noncon

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wolferine · 4 years ago

Text

Unforgivable - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When the reader loses their temper, it causes them to commit an act they can never take back...

Warnings: Violence, blood, torture, death

Word count: 2372

Part 1

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @lilclownx @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife

AN: Please read to the end before you come after me. :)

Everything is a blur. The last thing you remember is cradling Natasha in your lap and seeing the pain of betrayal in her eyes. You did this to her. You couldn’t control your anger and now she had a bullet—shot out of your gun—in her back. You hurt her and there was no way you could ever forgive yourself for that.

You finally let Tony get close enough to take care of her, because you realized you don’t deserve her anymore.

You run away from the Avengers Tower, your leg slowing you down, but you don’t care. Each step feels like a knife rubbing against your bone, but even that’s not enough to distract you from the pain in your chest. It feels like someone has torn you open, ripped your heart out of your ribcage, and thrown it into a bonfire.

But you have no one to blame than yourself.

Tears stream down your face as you stumble through the streets, eventually finding some privacy in a nearby forest. Your sobs echo through the trees as you crawl hand over hand, your uniform shredding open on bushes and branches. The trickle of a creek calls to you and you dunk your bloody hands in the freezing water, desperate to wash yourself of your failures.

You can’t believe what you’ve done.

The scene of Natasha falling to the floor plays over and over in your head and you would pay anything to unsee it. You curl into a ball, wiping your nose on your knees. You deserve all the pain and misery for your actions. You’re so caught up in your head, thinking about all the ways you can punish yourself, that you don’t notice the group of men sneaking up on you from behind.

“Over there! Over there!”

“By the creek, see?”

“Wait—that’s an Avenger?”

“Looks like someone had a bad day.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

At the sound of your name, you finally lift your head, only for the butt of a shotgun to slam into your face. Your nose breaks and blood fills your mouth. You turn away, not even interested in protecting yourself. If they killed you, you would thank them.

“Aw, come on. At least give us a reaction,” someone says.

The shotgun butt smashes against the back of your head and you wouldn’t be surprised if it cracked your skull. Someone kicks your leg where you were shot, and you bite your lip to hold back a scream.

“Well, this is anti-climactic.”

“Hey, if it makes our job easier, I’m not gonna complain.”

“I still think Hammer’s weird for wanting Y/N over the other Avengers.”

“Given the circumstances, he couldn’t really be picky—”

“Stop standing around and get to it!” someone yells.

The men surround you, punching and kicking every inch of you. The bulletproof vest of your uniform does little to lessen the impact of their blows. You feel bruises forming along your ribs and your rattling teeth bite your lips bloody. It doesn’t take long for you to black out and the peace is blissful.

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

Sometime later—you have no idea how long—you jolt awake, finding yourself strapped to a metal chair in the middle of a dark, concrete room. A man in glasses and a gray suit with white gloves stands in front of you.

“Hello, I’m Justin Hammer,” he says, offering a hand, then withdrawing when he realizes your arms are tied to the chair. “Sorry, force of habit.”

You stare at him. Your tongue pokes around the inside of your mouth and you notice some teeth are missing. There is a painful crick in your neck every time you try moving your head and every breath you take feels like a razor blade scraping the inside of your lungs.

“You’ve probably never heard of me, but I’m very familiar with you and your work with the Avengers. But the reason I have you here today is to talk about this man.” Hammer pulls out a folded photograph from his pocket and shows it to you.

It’s Tony Stark, but you have no desire to even think of that man anymore.

“Your best friend, right?” Hammer teases and you curl your lip at him. “What’s wrong? He’s the one who got you a spot on the team, isn’t he?” You look away from him. “I heard what he did to your girl,” he continues. “That must’ve felt like the betrayal of the century.”

“What?” you ask, confused as to what he’s referring to.

“I heard about what happened at the Avengers Tower. So tragic.” Hammer crumples Tony’s photograph and drops it on the floor. “Romanoff didn’t deserve that.”

“W-What are you talking about? Is she okay?” Your bottom lip quivers in fear.

Hammer kneels in front of you. “She’s dead, Y/N.”

“No, no…” You feel like he’s punched you right through the chest. “T-That’s not possible.”

“I’m sorry. I know she meant a lot to you.” Hammer stands again.

“How do you even know what happened at the Tower?” Given its security, there was no way news like that reached the public. At least not the truth of it. Maybe Hammer was just trying to mess with you.

Hammer motions behind him and a blonde woman steps forward from the shadows. Her face jolts your memory, but you don’t remember exactly where from.

“Recognize her?” Hammer asks. “She actually works for me, but she’s been pretending to be a SHIELD agent for some time now. She was right outside the door when your little spat with Stark went down.” Your mind flashes back to when you returned from the mission with Natasha. On your way to the private Avengers’ quarters, you remember passing the same blonde woman right outside the door.

“She heard everything that happened inside,” Hammer says as the blonde woman retreats into the darkness again.

“N-Natasha’s…She’s…She’s not dead,” you stammer.

Hammer shakes his head. “She went into surgery after Stark shot her, but due to the placement of the bullet, there were some complications and she coded on the table. They couldn’t revive her. That part was all over the news.”

You feel so sick you want to vomit. “I…I killed her?”

“No. You didn’t kill her. Tony Stark killed her.”

You start gasping for air, only worsening the pain in your chest. “No—But—He—I’m the one who pulled the trigger—”

“But you weren’t aiming for her. You were aiming for Stark, and he’s the one who deflected the bullet into her,” Hammer says. “He’s also the one who sent you two on that mission to begin with, wasn’t he? The reason you lost your cool and pulled your gun out? Think, Y/N. All of this is Stark’s fault.”

But the sadness of thinking you’ve killed Natasha is too overwhelming. You can’t focus on anything but your own guilt. You will burn in hell for this and you won’t even mind.

“Listen to me, Y/N!” Hammer snaps, striking you across the face. His rings cut into your cheek and blood fills your mouth. “I hate Stark just as much as you do. He’s been my business rival for years and I need someone to help me take him down. Who better than you, a former friend of his, who knows how to hit him where it hurts?”

You start crying at the thought of having to exist in a world without Natasha Romanoff.

Hammer tries getting your attention by slapping you again, but you’re unresponsive. You’re too lost in your grief to process anything he’s saying, and eventually he gives up, promising to come back another time to reveal his master plan to you.

It takes an entire month before he can even communicate with you. Your depression is all-consuming and their threats on your life have no effect. They’re startled to learn you actually enjoy the torture because you believe you deserve it after what you did to Natasha. But Hammer is relentless and finally figures out how to manipulate you into his bidding.

Six months after your capture and the accident, you finally crack. Your agony and pain turns into pure rage and hatred for Tony Stark. You can’t bring Natasha back, but you can get revenge on the man who took her life. After training with Hammer’s technology, which is almost as advanced as Tony’s, you’re deemed ready to be let out in the real world. Hammer personally asks for your help to kill Tony Stark, and it’s an offer you accept gladly.

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

Three months after the accident…

Natasha wakes up and looks to her right, disappointed to see the bed still empty. She’s tricked herself into believing that one day you’ll show up, ready to pick up the pieces and continue where you left off. But nothing has been the same since you left.

She sits up and turns the lights on. She scoots to the edge of the bed and carefully lifts her body into the wheelchair parked there.

The bullet had struck her lumbar spine, shattering her L1 vertebrae and paralyzing her from the waist down. Tony requested help from the best doctors he knew, but even the greatest modern advancements couldn’t repair her spine. He had personally designed her wheelchair, and she knows she should be grateful to still be alive, but she’s never felt so helpless and alone.

After the accident, you ran off and no one could locate you. Secretly, she held onto the hope you would return one day, but she knows your guilt and shame are keeping you away. She wants to tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she doesn’t hate you, but you’re not even giving her that chance.

Tony made the public announcement that Black Widow had retired from the Avengers. No one knew she had been paralyzed, nor that you had unofficially resigned from the team. Without you, without Black Widow, Natasha didn’t know who she was anymore.

She leaves her bedroom and goes into the kitchen. Tony arranged most of the food and dishes down to her new height but she feels like she’ll never adjust to not being able to stand anymore. She locates a bowl and a box of cereal and rolls over to the table. She chokes down dry Cheerios and pours her second bowlful when Tony walks in.

“Thank God you’re finally up,” he says. “When you’re done, I have something to show you.”

“Y/N?” She perks up.

“Uh…no…”

Natasha knows Tony blames himself just as much as she does for her accident, but it wasn’t his fault either. She wrestled between anger and guilt, sometimes blaming you, sometimes blaming him. But in the end, it’s easier to blame herself. She should have stopped you the moment you took out your gun, regardless of whether or not you pushed her. But she got so caught up in the moment she froze, and now she was paralyzed and you were gone.

“Just come down to my workshop, okay?” Tony disappears again.

With nothing better to do, Natasha takes the elevator down to Tony’s workshop. She doesn’t visit often, but when she does, she’s always impressed by his latest inventions and gadgets. She rolls down the aisle of old Iron Man suits displayed in glass cases, admiring the subtle differences in each one.

“Where are you, Tony?” she calls.

“Over here!” He waves her down from the other end. “I’ve been working on this for a while, and I know it’s a little premature, but I couldn’t help myself.” Tony stands next to another Iron Man suit, but it doesn’t quite look like it will fit him.

The suit is curved to fit a woman, black and red instead of Tony’s iconic red and gold. Natasha sees a red hourglass emblazoned on the belt buckle.

“What…What is this, Tony?” she asks, tears in her eyes.

“It’s an Iron Widow suit,” he says. “Or, whatever you want to call it. You’ll have to get in and test it out for yourself, but it’ll allow you to walk again and…be an Avenger again.”

Natasha wishes she could throw herself into his arms, but pulls him down to her level instead. “Thank you,” she whispers, wiping her face. She never thought she would be able to serve as an Avenger again, but she’ll take the opportunity if it means taking her mind off recent events.

“Ready to try it out?” Tony presses a button on the side of the suit and the suit opens up, bending into a crouched position so Natasha can get in it like a chair.

She smiles for the first time since the accident.

“I am.”

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

Six months after the accident…

Natasha is in the gym, lifting dumbbells on a bench when Tony walks in. Although she now has a legitimate excuse for skipping leg day for the rest of her life, she now has to make sure her upper body is twice as strong to make up for it.

“Look who decided to slide through my DMs this morning,” Tony says, shoving his phone in her face.

Midnight. Central Park Carousel. Come alone.

The text was from you.

“Oh, my God,” Natasha says, setting the weights down. You haven’t even texted her since the accident, and she’s a little hurt you didn’t reach out to her first. “What’s this about?”

“I have no idea.” Tony shrugs. “I know it says for me to go alone, but since it’s from Y/N, I wanted to ask if you wanted to tag along.”

“Of course.” In a way, Natasha feels like the text is really meant for her. Central Park was where you had asked her to be your girlfriend. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“I’ll need you to be on your A-game. We have no idea what Y/N’s been up to these past six months. I don’t know if you’re gonna like what we find,” Tony says.

Natasha has spent countless nights wondering where you’ve been and what you’re doing. Now she has the chance to find out. “It’s going to be okay, Tony,” she says.

He shakes his head. “Just so you know, I’m praying more for you than me right now.”

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

Click here for Part 3!

AN: I never went to medical school, so forgive my medical inaccuracies.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow #black widow fanfiction #marvel imagine #natasha x reader

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snelbz · 4 years ago

Text

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

#snacmc ttf #tempting the fates #rowaelin ttf #snacmc collab #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago

Text

Stockholm Syndrome (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: During the fight with the Dora Milaje in his safe-house, Zemo made an exit. But not alone. For inexplicable reasons, he dragged you along. Probably because he wanted to mess with Sam & Bucky. Would the Baron kill you? Or worse?

Words: 4,083

Warnings: language, angst, fluff (?), kidnapping, spoilers for TFATWS, (Let’s put the angsty shit in this part & the fun stuff in the second one.), (Y/E/C) = your eye color, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The fight in front of you held your entire attention. Eyes focused on moving bodies, kicking, punching their way through. While you were not inexperienced when it came to battling, you preferred holding back. Bruises were not necessarily your favorite. Not these kind of bruises at least. All your ears could make out was the grunting radiating from the combat. Hence why the movements behind you stayed inconspicuous. Only when a cloth pressed against your nose & you had no choice but to breathe in, did you notice the jeopardy of the situation. Darkness enveloped you. The last thing you perceived was a dark silhouette picking you up. As much as you wanted to fight back, to defend yourself, it was impossible. All strength had dissipated. Whatever was happening, you hoped you would wake up again. This could not be how you died. You would not die.

Pain woke you up. But you were not hurt. At least that was what you remembered. Then it came to you. Someone had kidnapped you. If your eyes did not open soon, you would regret it later. Heavy eyelids slowly opened. Though it took many attempts to keep them that way. You scanned the room. There were no windows, no light which would have made that task easier. It took a few minutes to adjust to the obscureness. And once you did, you found yourself as perplexed as before. No restraints were obstructing your motions. Technically, you could up & leave. But it was never that simple, was it? The door was opposite of you. Your muscles were still sore. The act of standing up & waltzing over seemed like too much effort for you. The bleakness of the wall your back rested against was a more welcomed sensation. Your knees scooted closer to your chest. Arms raking around them, you hugged yourself. Hoping it would bring you a bit of comfort. Your brain failed to work properly. Because you were stumped. Who could have possibly seized you? Walker was busy getting his ass kicked. Lemar imitated his partner, pretty much. Sam ordered Bucky to help out & went into the battle right after. And Zemo was… Yeah, where the hell was Zemo during all of that? If you recalled correctly, he held a drink in his hand. Like you, he kept away from the fight. And then? You were aware that the Baron was not a saint. Neither were you. But you did not believe he would pull something like that. Then again, it was Zemo. Nobody knew his next step. Nobody but himself. Your foot tapped a rhythm on the cold, grey pavement. Usually, when your anxiety acted up, you distracted yourself. Fiddling with your hands or bouncing your legs. Something you could focus on that was not life threatening to your mind. The unknown beat managed to calm you down the slightest. Whoever held you hostage would be back soon. Your gut feeling told you so much.

Maybe you dosed off again. Because your body flinched when a creak reached your ears. Quickly, you looked around for possible threats. The only thing that had changed was the door sitting ajar. Only a diminutive gap. It was noticeable due to the light illuminating the room. There was no piece of furniture which meant that nobody lived here. It resembled a cell. But even cells had a bed, a chair. Something. The room turned dim again but only for a second. A shadow, you figured. Your captivator was here. So close, in fact, goosebumps erupted. A chill ran down your spine. This single interaction could modify your imprisonment. You still needed time to consider a successful escape plan. Which meant that you needed to observe the person keeping you here. Movies displayed such situations more than once. It was manageable. If they decided to show themselves & reveal their identity. Your eyes fell to the boots first. Black or a dark brown that was not detectable due to the lack of brightness. Next were the pants. Black again. The end of a coat came into view. Dark grey, almost anthracite. Your thoughts instantly went to one person. You could be mistaken. He was not the only one with a coat like that. Your gaze flickered up to his hands. The leather gloves were proof enough. Your (Y/E/C) eyes locked onto his brown ones. There was no shock written over your features. After all, deep down, you awaited this sight to be met with. As much as you wanted to withhold it, your eyes rolled & the sigh that left your lips was one of pure exhaustion. Zemo never made a secret out of it. His dislike for you started off the moment he first laid his eyes on you. From then on, it only seemed to increase steadily. You were a simple person. If someone treated you like shit, you returned that favor with pleasure & ten times worse.

“You are awake.” he stated the obvious after his frame entered through the doorway.

“Pretty sure I’m still dreaming.” you replied sarcastically, your elbows propping onto your knees. A smirk formed at the corners of his mouth. Whatever you said, it was the wrong thing.

“You dream about being locked inside a small cell? And I make an appearance as well? This does sound problematic, (Y/N). Nothing I would not be able to help you with.” he enjoyed this. Disgust made itself shown onto your face.

“Yeah? How could you possibly help me with that?” it took you a second to fully realize what you said. Immediately, you corrected yourself. “You know what? I don’t even wanna know.” your head rested in your hands, slightly embarrassed by turning this conversation awkward. Maybe it would have been more convenient if you just kept quiet. Zemo chuckled shortly but did not comment on it again.

“I assume you wonder why you are here.” the Baron observed your small frame on the floor. It was easy to recognize how uncomfortable you were.

“Your assumption might be correct.” your head tilted upwards, trying to hide the fear. Burying it deep down. You needed to think clearly so you could escape him.

“Would you like me to declare your purpose?” he questioned, eyebrows raising.

“Enlighten me, Baron.” you wasted no time with your reply. Maybe you imagined it but you could have sworn that his muscles tensed up when you called him by his title. You were the weaker one here so you kept your jokes at bay.

“I have no desire to get involved with the Wakandans. A getaway is more enjoyable with a suitable associate.” his hands gestured & you fathomed the seriousness behind his words.

“Oh, so that’s what I am now? An associate? Could’ve sworn I was your enemy. Improvement, I guess.” you focused on a lighter spot that interrupted the evenly dark color of the cement wall.

“I never declared you my enemy. That is solely your imagination.” Zemo stared at you but you would not give him the satisfaction of holding eye contact with him. He did not deserve it.

“I prefer my imagination then.” you stated & earned another chuckle from the Baron.

“Our departure is soon.” he let you know & left you alone once again. Great, so he did have a plan for you. But it did not seem like he wanted to murder you brutally. Basically, you could do nothing. The lock of the door clicked. No way out of this room. And your cellphone was no longer with you. He probably removed it from you while you were unconscious.

The drug Zemo had you breathe in really affected you. Tiredness rushed through you still. Falling asleep once again was inevitable. A steady, loud noise stirred you from your slumber. When your eyes opened, the chair you were seated in felt familiar. Your surroundings were not new to you. It was Zemo’s private jet. No sight of him. No sight of Sam & Bucky. The only company was the engine of the small plane, creating a ringing in your ears. Surprisingly, you were well rested. Your sleep schedule was messed up. On a good day, you slept for three hours. On a normal day, though, you were lucky if the dreamland even invited you in. Did that mean that you should thank Zemo? For drugging you? Your gratitude could stay inside, for now. It was kind of embarrassing to admit that you had enough rest because of him stunning you. All it would do was feeding his ego. He had enough of that already. Would it be clever to hop out of a plane that was thousands of feet in the air? A clever suicide mission, maybe. Zemo would not harm you. If he truly wanted to, you would be a ghost already. Where was he anyway? Certainly, he would not leave your side after kidnapping you. A look down your lap confirmed what you had feared. The trembling of your hands was noticeable. Almost worse than usual. If push came to shove, you could defend yourself perfectly fine. The Baron did not strike you as a fighter type of guy. Sure, he could handle a gun. In reality, the one thing he could really handle was his alcohol. If you had been in a cell for almost ten years, you would not be able to cope with this world either. Now that you were thinking about it...when was Zemo not drinking? Ever since you guys had teamed up, he had taken every chance to get some liquor into his system.

“How are you feeling?” a voice startled you. The cause of it was your dear captivator. His strut brought him over to you, taking a seat right opposite of you. Plopping down onto the soft cushion with a sigh, he intertwined his fingers in front of his chest. His chin rested on the back of them. The intensity with which he eyed you was unsettling. Your body curled together, shifting away from his rigid glance. The man in front of you frowned. Never before had you behaved that way. Usually, you were sarcastic, humorous. Your current state was uncommon. The fight or flight instinct kicked in. If you played by his rules, the cards were on your side. So the only natural thing was to answer him.

“Okay.” it was short but the tone held much meaning.

“Okay is not good.” he mumbled quietly, though you could still make out his words. The clouds outside of the window you were sitting next to looked like cotton. Smooth, soft. Perfect if you wanted to jump in. The sunset colored the sky in various, bright hues. A phenomenon. That was something that had always fascinated you. “Astonishing, is it not?” the silence broke when he spoke up yet again. You nodded, still gazing outside.

“We will arrive soon.” another voice joined you. The startle from your side could not be stopped. You hated how jumpy you were. Especially during such a situation. The strong, independent woman you usually were was gone. Right now, you were like a little girl, awaiting punishment for misbehavior. Apparently, the Baron was a mind reader because he soothed your worries immediately.

“You did nothing wrong, if that is one of your concerns.” he started. His eyes then flickered to the other man on the private jet. “Thank you, Oeznik.” small smiles were exchanged between the two of them. The assistant disappeared through a door again. Zemo being the only company left.

“Where are we going?” you had to know.

“Somewhere safe. Where nobody can locate me.” as his eyes met yours, he finished. “Us.” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His explanation was not helpful at all. You were still left in the dark. Your destination was unknown but he assured you that you would be safe. Zemo would never lie about something so significant. This bugging feeling was still present. If he did not tell you more about the location, maybe he could elucidate this.

“Why me? Why, out of everyone, did you kidnap me?” slight anger was behind your eyes but one could only notice if they looked precisely. The Baron’s head tilted. In amusement, you guessed. His forming smile held a hint of another emotion you could not quite identify.

“Kidnapping is such a harsh word, don’t you think?” was it mockery you could hear? “I believe there is no need for us to repeat our previous conversation. I told you why you’re here.” he stood up from his seat, dragging his body to the very end of the plane. There, he picked up two small glasses. The liquid of the half empty bottle of scotch poured a good amount in both of them. Evidently, one for him & one for you. His hand stretched out towards you & he offered you the drink. You eyed it suspiciously. While you were not one for drinking alcohol, maybe it would assist to calm your nerves. In the end, you reached for it, touching his hand in the process. The skin contact sent an unintended chill down your spine. Goosebumps were forming. The pit of your stomach felt odd. Never before had you experienced such a sensation. Though, & you had to admit that, it was everything but unpleasant. Your body language spoke louder than you would have liked. And it did not go unnoticed by the man in front of you. To avoid an awkward tension, he decided against commenting on your body’s reaction.

The first sip made you wince. A burning sensation washed down your throat. The Baron handled his alcohol way better than you did, that much was obvious. Unfortunately, the liquor did not numb your anxiety right away. The effect was awaited but luck was not on your side. Would it be rude to ask for another drink? The downside was not realizing how strong it was. If you got wasted then Zemo could take advantage of your state. Depended on how he defined taking advantage of you. The conversation that had died down for a while was resurrected. This time, it was you. This shocked not only you but also him.

“I don’t like you.” you stated monotonously.

“I am aware.” he chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You don’t like me either.” one of your eyebrows raised.

“An incorrect assumption.” his hands gestured to emphasize his words. You rolled your eyes, throwing your arms up in frustration.

“A freaking obvious fact.” you breathed out, falling back into your chair. The softness caressed you tenderly. A hum left you & your previous desperation was replaced by some sort of relaxation. Why did your emotions change so quickly? One moment, you were scared. The next, you were furious. Then, you untightened. All in the presence of the man who had kidnapped you.

“What is going through your mind right now?” seemed like he was eager to talk to you. Comfortable silence with Baron Zemo was not possible. It was either awkward or not quiet at all. Your head snapped into his direction. He was deep in thought. Occupied with whatever his mind came up with.

“I-I don’t know.” you were being honest. Spending more time with him meant no lies. At least not about such things. The next question came naturally. “What about you?” one corner of his lips lifted slightly. The first step in the right direction. Deep down, Zemo was aware that you did not exactly hate him. Liking him would be too far but at least, you tolerated him. Accepted his presence.

“I am quite fond of bringing you with me. Sam & James are irritating. Helpful but irritating. You are a delight to be around.” he confessed & you had the urge to call him out on his ridiculous behavior.

“Sounds fake but alright…” your annoyance was audible.

“I beg your pardon?” he abandoned his glass, placing it on the small table nearby. Elbows propped onto his knees & his upper body leaned forward, closer to you. But not close enough to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Ever since we met, we’ve been arguing non-stop. This is the first normal conversation between us.” your fingers pointed to him & then to you, signaling what you were talking about.

“Arguments are not an indicator for antipathy.” Zemo explained.

“Oh, they’re not?” the sarcasm was more than obvious. “What then?”

“They are concealing true emotions, burying your urges deep within.” casually spoken, as if he had prepared this exact speech multiple times before.

“My urges?” you questioned, making fun of his statement.

“Indeed.” he wore a winning smile & you hated the effect it had on you.

“Sure.” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “My only urge is to punch yo-“ both of your heads turned into the direction of Oeznik who unknowingly interrupted your conversation.

“We’re here.” he claimed, nodding briefly, & left you alone again. By the way his face changed, he looked like he was sorry for bothering the two of you. Truthfully, you were glad that he joined you because without him, you would have said something regrettable.

Paris. He dragged you to France. If your situation were any different, you would have felt excited to be here. Before you exited the private jet, Zemo threatened you. If you had the glorious idea to speak up before you arrived at your destination, you would regret it later. Basically, you thought he would kill you. Of course you had no clue that the Baron would never hurt you in any way. After all, you were a victim of his kidnapping. Whether he called it that or not. The small alleyways were decorated with narrow buildings sitting next to each other. The cobblestone street underlined the atmosphere perfectly. Eyes wide, you were overwhelmed by the impression of the beauty of the sweet town. When one of his hands reached for yours, you did not even flinch back. Because, if you were honest, it felt good. Your intertwined fingers brought you warmth. A feeling that spread out through your entire body. Sparks, almost like the beginning of a firework, started forming. The sun shone brightly. Your eyes closed contently. Hence why you did not notice Zemo watching your every move. He reminisced your features closely. The sunlight brought out the beauty of you in a way that was worth remembering. Your body sensed something. It was in your nature when someone stared at you. Carefully, your eyes opened, showing the (Y/E/C) colors that glowed almost mysteriously in the light. Warm brown ones locked onto yours. The two of you exchanged an honest, almost shy smile.

“What?” your head tilted to the side, observing his face. Looking for a sign. Any sign. But Zemo was a clandestine guy. It was almost impossible to look through him. Something inside you took that as a challenge. Maybe you could make his walls come crashing down. Maybe you were the one to change him. Wait. Why were your thoughts running down that road? He was the person to take you away from your friends. The sympathy that started building up was wrong. That much you knew. Resisting felt like a tough task. What did he say during the flight? Something about pushing down your urges. This was the first time you understood the meaning.

If you thought the town was pretty then the apartment you entered was stunning. It was on the top floor. Spacious, furnished in a minimalist way. Overly white, accentuated with colorful artwork. Special pieces to complete the look of it. It screamed expensive. The process of taking everything in took a few minutes. It was overstraining. In the best way possible. You should screw down your excitement. After all, you were part of an incredibly dangerous situation. But you let his touch linger on your skin. Just for a fraction longer. If you really wanted to, you could have retreated. Something told you that Zemo would not have forced you to hold onto him. That thought alone calmed you down a little further. Technically, he was not a stranger. Throughout the missions you had performed together, with Sam & Bucky, you two had become acquainted with. You were associates, apparently. And associates were not supposed to fear one another. Then again, associates would not kidnap each other. Your body was overthrown with mixed signals. Unknown what was wrong & what was right. Your friends would probably describe you as insane, reckless. Maybe you were. Maybe the last few weeks had formed you into a different type of person. That type who sympathized with a criminal. With a criminal who broke out of a high security jail. Since when had criminals become your type? And why were you starting to think in a very friendly, almost amorous way? Looked like you really were insane.

Who would have thought the Baron to be an excellent chef? Definitely not you. But here he was, preparing a meal for you. This was actually pretty sweet of him. His body behind the stove & his eyes focused on the task. It was a sight for sore eyes. Only, of course, if he were not Zemo you were referring to. While he cooked, you set the table. He assured you that you did not have to but it felt like the right thing to do. It was the least you could do. What were you even saying? He kidnapped you, for God’s sake. Your body, your emotions, should be damned.

“Is this something you do often?” Zemo’s question caught you off guard. For a moment, you halted in your tracks. Cutlery was being put down. A deep breath left your mouth.

“What?” your bewildered expression made him chuckle. Funny to watch your perplexity.

“Living in your head more than in the present.” his proclamation cut through the tension.

“I…um, haven’t realized that, actually.” you answered awkwardly. Your hand raised to the back of your head, resting behind your ear.

“You do. When spending time with Sam & James. And now. It is quite entertaining.” he eyed you closely. It made you slightly uncomfortable.

“Why?” your curiosity got the best of you. That was nothing new. Even before he brought you here, your nosiness was on of your more obvious characteristics.

“Because the light in your eyes shifts. You are more at ease. Not to forget your smile…” Zemo trailed off at the end of his sentence, voice a little softer than usual.

“What about my smile?” you really were curious. Would it be in your favor or not? There was only one way to figure that out.

“It differs from when you are actively engaged in a conversation. The corners of your mouth lift in a softer way. No hesitation or restriction.” he finished, his sparkling brown eyes meeting yours. Due to the embarrassment, you could not keep eye contact. So you averted your gaze, facing the almost empty plate in front of you.

“You talk like you’ve known me forever.” your whispers were almost missed. The tone so quiet, even your racing heart was louder.

“I am simply skilled at reading people. You facilitate that process, actually.” every single word he spoke made so much sense that it almost did not make sense anymore. There was no other way to describe it.

“I do? How?” your constant short questions were amusing to him. On one hand, you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as possible. On the other hand, you inquired every single time he finished talking.

“I assume it is because you do not fear opening up to me & letting me in.” people who did not know your history would have believed you two had been friends for years. By the way he discerned the small, almost unnoticeable details about you. Details you did not even know existed in the first place.

“You assume an awful lot, Baron.” you teased, eyes moving to his face gingerly.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” but you could not. Because it would have been a lie. A smirk made its way onto his face when you did not give him a reply. Unintentionally, you mimicked his expression. He had you. Right here, he had you. And he was not the only one aware of the shift in the situation. You were just as deep in it as he was. It was a game with fire. Who would get burned in the end?

~to be continued~

Published (04/28/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @msmarvelsmain, @friday18eo, @crackerjackharkness, @waiting-for-motivation, @obsessedwithfandomsx, @friday18eo, @bibliophilewednesday, @princess-yuna, @trenton007, @pedropascallovebot, @your-lovers-heart, @stressedoutsteph (thanks for your support <3)

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luxwritesfanfic · 4 years ago

Text

400 LUX

Sherlock wants to cut things off but the reader thinks he should really think it over. Or, the one where Sherlock isn’t one for saying “I love you”, but he has always offered you a sword. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You could hear the water running in the bathroom as you slipped down the hall to make coffee, your phone in one hand pressed against your ear as Mary went on and on about all the things that you two needed to do today and the other hand held your shear kit that you barely used. It was a few days before the wedding and things were in full swing for you as Mary’s bridesmaid and Sherlock as the best man. Mary, God bless her, was having a breakdown every other day and it was all you could do to not to set her off by picking the red velvet with buttercream over the vanilla cupcakes.

“— and we need to go by the florist today, too, and I probably should stop by and speak to the DJ... and John, he’s not worried about any of it! He’s asking for tea and biscuits as if I’m not already balancing the most important day of our lives!” Mary was talking at a mile a minute and as she continued the never ending list of tasks she had set for the two of you, you began situating all of your supplies to cut Sherlock’s hair. He had insisted you do it before the wedding, and not even your lack of experience was enough to convince him to just go to the shop with John. Sherlock’s hair was something he took very seriously so you were unsure as to why he’d even ask you to do this.

Speaking of the devil, you rounded the hallway and started for the bathroom.

“One second Mare.” She didn’t miss a beat and continued right on talking once you muted her, and you wondered if this is how John felt talking to Sherlock. Knocking on the door before walking in, you fought through the steam to find a comb on the counter.

“If we’re going to be in here at the same time, you might as well join me.” Sherlock’s head popped out from behind the shower curtain, his hair and face sudsed up and glistening from the water. The longer you realized you had actually been thinking about taking him up on his offer, the quicker you knew that you had to get back to your task at hand and get out of the line of fire. You pulled open some of the drawers and rummaged through them.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love that.” Hoping that the steam was thick enough to hide your growing blush, you turned back to the vanity and opened the mirror cabinet. “I need you to hurry up. Mary’s having a-“

“You would, too.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and that was enough to make you roll your eyes. Luckily for you, the mirror door was hiding your face from his prying eyes. Smug and darling as always, your man was. You snuck a peek at him and realized he’d moved back from the curtain and resumed washing his hair.

“Seriously, Mary will probably have a heart attack if I don’t leave within the hour. If you love me, five minutes.” You shut the cabinet and slipped out of the room to finally return to your phone call.

“Sorry M, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sherlock is being Sherlock.”

“Now you’re really starting to sound like John. How’s his suit fit? Does he need any adjustments? That reminds me, I should call the tailor! Be a doll and bring something to eat on the way? Love you!” With that she hung up, leaving you in the dust trying to comprehend if she actually was speaking words or Simlish.

—

“Four minutes, fourteen seconds.”

You turned back to him while you gestured for him to sit down so you could wrap the towel around his shoulders. His hair was still pretty wet so you wouldn’t have to spray it much.

“What are you talking about?”

Sherlock only smiled to himself in response, and you figured he’d just moved on from that conversation already. Combing out small sections of his hair and clipping the rest up, you asked again.

“Are you sure you want me to do this? I really don’t mind going to your usual stylist with you. I don’t want to mess you up for the wedding.”

“Y/N, I told you already, if I’ve asked you to do it it’s because I want for you to do it. It’s only just a trim. Come on with it.

So you began at that, snipping away little by little. You had cut John’s hair for him a few times right before a date but his was much easier than Sherlock’s and it grew like a weed so even if you did mess up, his date could hardly tell. You told Sherlock all about your plans with Mary for the day and he seemed to be listening intently but you could tell his mind was wandering. You knew him better than you knew yourself.

Moving to stand in between his legs to trim his face framing pieces, you asked him about his plans for the day.

“Hm,” he started, resting his fingers tips lightly on your hips in front of him, tapping away as he thought out his answer. “Mycroft insists he has words for me, despite my telling him to keep them to himself, so I suppose I’ll be seeing him at some point. John is coming here to talk wedding...” which you were almost certain really meant a case, “and I want to tell Mrs. Hudson you’ve decided to give up your flat entirely to live here.”

You had just finished trimming his hair when he had said that and luckily so because you were sure you would have chopped off a lot more than needed being caught by surprise like that. Running your fingers through his hair to be sure you didn’t miss any sections, you contemplated what exactly was happening between you. You had never really brought up completely moving in even though it was true that you practically already did. You hadn’t slept in your own bed in months because you always chose the opportunity to sleep with Sherlock. Moving in seemed like a dream but you always had it in the back of your mind that one day Sherlock would have a change of heart and change his mind on whatever the two of you were, and you didn’t want to be without if that happened.

When he realized you still hadn’t replied to his request, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at you. “Is there really that much to think about? John said you’d say yes if I made it clear I was the one asking you to. Had I not done that?”

You couldn’t help but smile, because seriously, what could you have possibly done to deserve the opportunity to love someone as... well, Sherlock, as Sherlock. He was everything everyone said he was, but he had shown you willingly that he was also so much more. You’d choose the life with him, whether it was one of a house and kids and a white picket fence or if it was one that consisted of running around London in the rain because Sherlock swore he saw something suspicious and the only viable option was to run after it. You would choose him. Every single time.

Even with all of your declarations of love, you two had never said talked about the fact that you were definitely exclusively dating which often hindered a conversation of the future. You had told him you loved him more times than you could count but he had never said it back and you were okay with that. He didn’t have to reciprocate it for it to be true. But, it did leave room for doubt that this might not always be what Sherlock chooses.

You thought of all the ways you could bring it it up and realized that straightforwardly was the only way to go. You brought your hands from his hair to hold his face and rubbed your thumbs in slow circles and he relaxed on the spot. He was putty in your hands, as much as he hated to admit it.

“I just don’t want you to feel stuck with me. It’s a big step. And if it ends up making you miserable, I just- I don’t know. I don’t want to be the one to make you miserable.” Your voice was soft as you spoke and you realized that with Sherlock’s bangs being much shorter now, you got to see more of his pretty face. Although, currently, it was contorted as he worked through trying to comprehend what you were saying to him. Blinking away at you for what seemed like forever, Sherlock cleared his throat and took your hands from his face and into his own instead.

“I’m... not sure I understand. I don’t mean to be rude at your expense but if I wanted to leave you, I would. I could rather easily. Just as easily as you could leave me. But you won’t. And I won’t... I’ve tried to show you in all the ways I know how. So would it not make sense for us to live together?”

It slowly started making sense for you and you could slap yourself for being so blind. Sherlock had let you take the lead in a lot of aspects in his life recently that you couldn’t explain what for. He urged you to pick out the next case he would work, allowed you to pick out his new microscope (Y/N, they’re the same color. Pick one. I don’t know Sherlock! I feel like this one is cool grey and this one is light grey, it makes a difference!), and now you were cutting his hair, the most important part of his appearance from his point of view. He trusted you to make the right choice every time and there really was no right choice, your choice was the right choice.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you phone began to ring with Mary’s picture posted on the screen.

“Shit, I’m so late! She’s seriously going to kill me.” Your gaze drifted from your phone to Sherlock who surprisingly patiently awaiting your answer. “Tell Mrs. Hudson as soon as John gets back from holiday that you two will start moving my stuff over. And make a little space for me in your closet, okay? I need more than just a few drawers.”

Sherlock smiled at you like you like he did when you called him brilliant and that was your highest honor to date.

You expected the usual slick remark but he simply said, “You’ll have what you want. Mary will be calling again in about 30 seconds. You should really be hailing a taxi right about now.”

And there he was, the Sherlock you wouldn’t change for the world. You wished you had time to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine but alas, duty calls. You kiss him like you mean it- because you do, and rush off to your friend’s rescue but not without stopping in the doorway.

“I love you, Sherlock Holmes. But even more importantly than that, I trust you. I’ve had the time of my life fighting dragons with you and I’d happily spend the rest of my life doing it if you’d let me. It’s nice to know that you will. I just thought you’d like to know.”

Just like that, you turn his world upside down as you rush down the stairs, leaving him speechless. He thought his story was one that would be written about him and him alone and as sure as he used to be in that, he’d come to the realization that he was just as sure that two was better than one.

“And I, you.”

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock imagine #sherlock has feelings #sherlock headcanon #mary watson #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #luxwrites

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shoutogepi · 4 years ago

Text

Best Friends

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.7k

[ ☁︎ ] angst

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : unrequited feelings :’( really brief mention of sex (not nsfw tho!) & also (underage?????) alcohol consumption!

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : On your last night in the dorms, Shouto realizes he has feelings for you, his best friend.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : idk honestly i started writing this last night and was gonna abandon it... but then val tagged me in an angst ficrec and i was like ok well! this is a sign to post bc then i will have at least one sho angst on my masterlist lolll oops :o

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─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃onight was the last night in the dorms. Three long years had come and went, and now everyone’s belongings were cleaned out and secured away with cardboard and tape, leaving an empty wing that was currently filled with bodies, neon lights, and red solo cups. Music was pounding through the hallways, reaching every room and allowing no one total escape from the celebration.

You had been occupying the dance floor with Mina and Tsuyu for the last half hour, and now that you had sweat off the latest drink of the night, it was time for you to set off and find your more moderate-tempered companion. The pink-skinned girl wiggled her eyebrows at you when you alerted them of where you were heading off to, Tsuyu planting a love tap on your ass as you made your way from the swarm of people. The frog girl wasn’t usually so loose, but the alcohol that pumped through everyone’s veins had left only a select few unaffected. Tsu, just like you, was one of the ones that was happily allowing the weight of daily student life slip from her shoulders.

There were plenties of warm bodies swaying with the heavy bass rattling the hallways, shadows of couples and interested singles leaning against the walls, whispers and rowdy laughs echoing as the entire graduating class of UA partied the night away. Skimming by the line outside the bathroom, your feet found their way toward the end of the hall easily enough, taking the path you had so many times before.

A creak sounded as you pushed the cracked door open, the sight of the open shoji screen allowing moonlight to stream onto the bamboo mat floor which crunched quietly underneath your tentative steps.

“Shouto?” you whispered his name, eyes taking in the silhouettes of the packed boxes against the walls before you turned and saw a shadow sitting on the mattress beside the door.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your voice jolted Shouto from his wandering thoughts, his attention turning to you right away. He seemed surprised to see you standing there, and he peered up at you from his slightly hunched position on the couch. He acknowledged you with your name, his voice low and steady. By the sound of it, you wondered briefly if he had even had a drop to drink tonight.

Blinking at him a few times, you tried to adjust your eyes to the contrast between the bright moonlight and dark shadows. When you could finally see the planes of his handsome, somber face, you spoke, trying your best not to slur. “What are you doing over here all by yourself?”

He paused, lagging for a second before the corners of his mouth curled and his eyes crinkled at the sight of you. “Just thinking,” he answered, examining you in that intrigued way he always did. After a moment he must have reached the conclusion that you were some level of smashed, for he patted the empty space next to him on the bed with a smirk and said, “Come sit with me.”

For a moment you wondered why he was alone, but then your brain caught up with you, and you realized that his other friends were probably busy with their own issues or endeavors. Ever since Midoriya finally grew a pair and asked Uraraka out, the two had been going at it like rabbits every spare second they had. And you could only imagine how busy Iida was as class rep, trying to keep the party at least a little bit under control. Momo was definitely helping him, and you had seen Bakugou begrudgingly holding Kaminari up with Kirishima under his other arm when you’d passed by them in the hall… Leaving only you to come and rouse the half and half hero from his solitude.

“Well that’s not allowed tonight!” You exclaimed, fist slapping against the side of your thigh. You would’ve used both hands for emphasis had the other not been occupied with a half-full plastic cup. Your legs felt like jello as you moved toward him, his cool hand wrapping around your arm to offer his support and steer you into the spot beside him. You almost fell but he held you up with the one arm, chuckling as your butt finally met the safety of the duvet.

“Thinking’s forbidden?” he laughed at your insistence, the sound rich and deep as his hand lingered on your wrist.

“Yes,” you nodded vehemently, pulling your hand away from his to cradle your precious cup and shooting him a playful, sideways glare. “Brain turned off for the night. It’s in the fine print of the party rules, of course.”

Shouto gave you a funny look, eying you from the side. He repositioned himself, sitting upright and closing his eyes. It was hard for him to remain stoic when the quiet sound of your amused giggles tickled his ears, but he managed a nod before his eyes settled on you again. “Okay, I think it’s off.”

Conversation was always natural between the two of you, he never had to struggle to keep it flowing. And he liked talking with you, being in your presence. Which was the only reason why he was still entertaining this ridiculous charade.

“How do you feel?” you inquired, a goofy grin on your lips.

There was a twinkle in your eyes as you teased him, but Shouto held no qualms with your playfulness. Most people were still afraid to joke with him, believing that he was too obtuse to understand humor. Sure, he had struggled with the transition to school life in the beginning of their first year, but after you had transferred into their class second year, he found himself opening up even more than he already had.

“I feel… the same.” The grin on his lips remained, his eyes settled on your drunken form. His gaze flicked to your smile, shining in the moonlight and making something twinge in his stomach. He cleared his throat, pushing down the feeling that haunted him every time he looked at you too long. “This doesn’t really work, does it?”

You pretended to entertain the thought for a moment, eyes rolling as you considered it animatedly before your lips broke into a beautiful smile again. “No,” you giggled, shoulders shrugging in your cute, drunken fit. “But it’s easier when you’re not sober!”

He turned, faux surprise hung from his brow. “You’re drunk?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and splashed onto you where his jean-clad thigh brushed against yours.

“Shut up!” You punched at his shoulder and pushed him away from you, shuffling yourself in the process.

Your hair swished with the movement and suddenly the soft, sweet scent of you was crashing over him. He breathed it in shamelessly, allowing himself to indulge in the warm feeling that suddenly emanated through his chest.

“You could try it, if you wanted. It really does help,” you offered your cup to him, shrugging.

Shouto eyed the red plastic cup, hesitant. He really wasn’t one to drink, but then again, neither were you. Tonight was about celebrating your graduation from UA, opening the next chapter of your lives. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on when it meant leaving all his relationships either behind him or pushed to the side. Okay, maybe he was kidding himself… there was only one person he would miss having in his daily life, and that person was sitting right beside him— the same one who was the source of his conflicted feelings.

“Or not!” your hand retreated and you took a little sip, the sweet jungle juice washing down your throat easily. “No pressure. It’s your choice, Sho.”

He nearly groaned at the nickname, the one he only allowed you to call him. Grabbing the cup from you, his calloused fingers brushed over your soft knuckles. He smirked at the excitement that surfaced in your gaze as he brought the lip of the cup to his mouth, emptying the contents in one long go. The liquid was sickly sweet, masking the bitter poison that entered his body alongside it.

“That was… truly disgusting.”

“Whaaat?” You balked, grabbing for the cup in dismay. He kept it out of reach, even though it was empty, setting it on the far table instead. “It’s good, I dunno what you’re on. It’s really, really good. Heheh, just like me…”

Shouto blushed at the innocent innuendo, looking at you as you closed your eyes and let out a noise between a sigh and a laugh. He gulped, realizing that the alcohol was already taking effect and he was beginning to slip under its influence. Your method of “turning your brain off” was proving to be much more effective with the alcohol’s aid, but that was a whole other issue which he failed to foresee.

He usually preferred to keep his brain on and fully functioning, especially when he was alone, with you. That way, when you roused the butterflies in his stomach and pulled on his heartstrings, he could tell himself to just ignore it and focus on how important your friendship was to him. But now, his defenses were failing him, and there was nothing he could do to stop his heart from beating faster, palms getting clammier.

“You’re good?” he reiterated quietly, watching the way your tongue swiped across your lips, enchanted by it.

You chortled, finding the thought entertaining, apparently. “Yes! I feel really good right now.”

“Ah,” he murmured, sitting back and allowing the pillow he had propped up to sink around his form. “I feel... kinda good, too.”

A mix between a laugh and a scoff escaped you at his confession. “You feel something already, Sho? Wow, that’s so efficient.”

Shouto didn’t really know what you meant by that, but he only smiled softly at the happy look on your face. He closed his eyes and listened to the fast rush of blood in his ears, the feeling of warmth prickling at his skin. He wasn’t drunk, per se, but he felt a little lighter than usual.

You had said that drinking would turn his brain off, but it seemed only part of it wasn’t functioning. The other side of his mind was working overtime, much to his chagrin.

He was suddenly aware that this would be one of his last moments with you before everything would change. You were going to an internship not too far from his, only an hour away by train. But seeing you wouldn’t be nearly as easy as walking down the hallway… and it could only happen if the both of you found a time that worked and had the motivation to travel the distance to meet one another. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to do all that, just to see him.The realization hit him hard.

No more sneaking to one another’s room and having whispered, midnight conversations. No more studying together and simply being in your presence. No more opportunities to let his gaze linger on you longingly, nor chances for him to grab your hand when your knuckles brushed against his in the middle of your walks.

He felt sick at the thought of living without you. Maybe… maybe it was time for him to face his feelings head on. He had spent so long denying the recognition of them, the acceptance of them. The loss of you was imminent, unless he could finally force himself to say something, and it had to be soon.

As if you had picked up on his distress, you hummed quietly and shuffled closer to his side. His quirk spiked at the sudden proximity, heat flaring up as your head came to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m a sappy drunk, so I apologize for what I’m about to say,” you mumbled into his t-shirt, his skin prickling as your warm breath wandered through the seams and onto his skin.

He huffed out a laugh to ease your worries, but he stayed absolutely still, unwilling to move a muscle in case it would somehow scare your body off of his.

Then you whispered, “M’so lucky to have met you, Sho.”

Shouto choked on thin air, subtly wiping the moisture on his palms across the tops of his denim-covered thighs. Your scent surrounded him, and he couldn’t resist resting his head on top of yours, slowly breathing between your locks. “I… I feel the same, Y/n…”

It was quiet for another moment, his mind playing out a hundred ways to confess, trying to find the right words. Meanwhile, you were simply enjoying his reciprocation and the peacefulness of the quiet away from the party, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

You sighed and he shivered as your breath scattered across his collarbone again, almost jumping when your fingers landed softly over his. How you remained so soft with their vigorous training, he had no clue. But your fingers felt so warm, so right lacing with his. His throat was thick with apprehension, a lump forming there as the seconds ticked by. It wasn’t often the two of you were sitting so close together, and he wondered if he was a piece of shit for thanking whatever God there was out there for you being kind of inebriated and so touchy right now.

Slowly, he turned to look at you, eyes wide and conflicted, taking in how truly astonishing your beauty was up close. You lifted your head from your perch on his shoulder, gaze locking with his before your lips curled into a meek smile. Digits tightening around his, you squeezed his hand and rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, screaming at him to do something— anything— whatever it took for him to just form the words and tell you that he was in love with—

“Thank you for being my best friend.”

—you… He blinked, the words registering.

You continued. “I know we’re moving away from each other, but I never wanna lose you. I cherish our friendship too much for that to happen, Shouto.”

Your words cut him.

Friends. Friendship.

His blood felt like it had frozen in his veins and he had become a statue, stock still as you carried on thoughtlessly, eyes now flickering over to the moon hung low in the indigo night sky.

“Please promise me that we'll never change. We might grow as people, but… our friendship will stay intact, right? I don’t wanna grow apart.”

It hurt.

Time had stopped and his lungs shriveled up, his body aching as if you had just lodged your knee straight into his ribs. His tongue tasted bitter suddenly, and he could almost hear the sound of his heart cracking.

But Shouto was good at hiding his emotions, years of compartmentalizing them giving him an edge that no one else he knew had. He kept his face neutral, even if it felt like he was withering and dying inside.

“I just… don’t ever wanna lose you.”

It was almost impossible to force his lips into a thin, hollow smile. But he managed, even if it felt like prying iron with a crowbar. He looked into your eyes and nodded.

He understood. To some extent, he truly understood.

“I don’t want to lose you either, Y/n... Don’t worry,” he took a deep breath, forcing the next words out even if he felt like he was about to be sick.

He cherished his bond with you too much to risk chancing it, confessing to you, and throwing it all away after your certain rejection. He loved you too much to ever hurt you, and he was too selfish to let go of you, too. The only one that would suffer from this was him, and he was alarmingly alright with that.

If it meant that he got to hold onto you, even for just a little bit longer.

If it meant that you would be happy... Even if he wasn’t.

“We’ll always be friends... I promise.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚ ˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚ ˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚

afJSNKJKDKJ WRITING ANGST FOR MY BABY IS SO HARD AHH I LOVE U SHO PLS... reader is so dumb to see u only as a friend i hate that dumb bitch ughhh (TдT)

➥ masterlist

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