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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Obedient (Rewritten)

Soft! Yandere! Erasermic x Chubby! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

You must be 18 years old or older to participate in this reading. If you are not, please remove yourself from the line and find another piece. Thank you.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied drugging, kidnapping, reader is way too fucking calm with the situation, Stockholm Syndrome, BDSM themes, a collar, body worship, the word Daddy once, smut, double penetration (diff. holes), anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare.

Word Count: 6.6 k

Author's Note: Alright. I've been wanting to rewrite this for a while now. Obedient was the very first fic I'd ever written and posted back in September, and my writing has changed A LOT since then. Reading the original, I realized there's a lot that I can change and tweak, and a lot that wasn't very clearly or well written (in my opinion). So, here it is!

You can find the original here.

Enjoy~

“Happy birthday to me.” The words tumble loosely from your lips on a heaved breath, your fingers curled lazily around a cold glass of whiskey.

It isn’t a rare occurrence to see you perched atop a stool at the edge of the bar, nursing your third glass at 2am on a Friday night. Or rather Saturday morning. It’s one of the only places you can find solace, away from nosy coworkers and nosier acquaintances. The loneliness is soberingly blissful. You never cared much for social interaction.

At this point the bar is emptying, only a handful of bodies sticking around in the early hours. In the reflections of the rows of glass liquor bottles you see them again. Two lanky figures sitting in the corner booth at the back of the establishment. Any normal person would see them and think nothing. But you know better. When you first walked into the bar six months ago they were in that exact spot, and every time afterward they’d be there when you walked in and stayed after you left.

You, being observant as you are, always watched everything from your spot at the bar, the slightly warped images in the glass serving as your eyes for the night. It didn’t take long for you to figure the two were watching you every time you stepped inside. The blonde one always sat with his back to you, and his head would occasionally turn in the reflection. You’d alternate seats to make sure you weren’t imagining things, but it only confirmed what you’d suspected.

Not that you cared enough to do anything about it.

As long as they keep their distance you’re perfectly content letting them look. And they did keep their distance. They’d never even come within 5 feet of you, seemingly happy with just lingering glances. Of course, tonight would be a different story.

You watch as their glassy reflections stand up, the distance between you and them shrinking with each of their long strides. You let your eyes fall to the amber liquid in your hands, praying they’d only pass you by on their way out. Two sets of footsteps approached, two bodies popped up on either side of you, and a deep, silky smooth voice sounded on your right.

“Mind if we take a seat?” A glance to your right revealed a rugged, yet handsome man peering down at you with his deep, tired onyx eyes. Long raven hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his chiseled jaw peppered with barely tamed scruff and a scar curved along his cheekbone. You turn to look at his friend, long blonde hair pulled up into a high bun and hypnotic green eyes focused on you behind orange tinted sunglasses despite being indoors past midnight. He is handsome as well, a small mustache on his smiling lips, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline drawing you in.

You couldn’t help but feel they look familiar, somehow. You’d seen their faces before, somewhere, but you pushed that to the back of your mind for now.

It wouldn’t hurt to let them sit with you, right? They seem friendly enough, and it’s better to entertain them in case things go south should you reject their request. With a small, tired smile, you nod.

“Sure thing, fellas.” They both plop down on either side of you and the blonde immediately gets talking.

“So what’s the occasion, little listener?” Two thoughts came to mind. One, how did he know there was any occasion, two, what kind of pet name is ‘little listener’? Your confusion must have shown on your face, because the raven haired man spoke up.

“You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar, kitten.” Ah. So they had been watching you. You aren’t wearing anything that would normally be considered ‘dolled up’. Your tan sweater and black skirt are relatively plain, and the platform boots you’re wearing accompanied by your thigh-high socks are something you’re experimenting with.

But usually you entered the bar with a white button-up and black slacks from your job as a waitress. Today you had time to go home and pamper yourself a bit before heading to your usual drinking spot. Evidently, they noticed. You bring your glass up to your lips and gulp down the remaining liquid before entertaining the question.

“Nothing special. Call it a birthday party.” And hey, you mean it when you say it isn’t special. Your birthday only marks yet another routine year on this earth. The blonde nudges your shoulder with his own.

“I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” The alcohol must be affecting you, because you chuckle a bit at his enthusiasm.

“Just another year gone by, you know?” You’re never this talkative sober. The man on your right rapped his knuckles on the bartop, the barkeep making his way over with a tired smile.

“One more glass for this pretty kitty here.” The name had your eyebrows raising.

“This one’s on me.” As the fresh glass was sat on the bartop you scoffed quietly.

“Kitty?” A deep hum came from the man.

“Well how would you describe yourself, kitten?” Somewhere in your muddled brain you warned yourself not to be self-deprecating on your 25th birthday. You didn’t listen.

“Definitely not feline. I’m short and chunky and the only thing cat-like about me is my posture and eyeliner,” you stated, matter-of-factly. As a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant, you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised. A hum comes from the blonde, a muttered ‘pretty and humble’ floating on his breath. You force a chuckle at the statement.

“Pretty is also a word I wouldn’t use to describe myself.” A short silence falls between the three of you, and you take the time to study their faces. Where had you seen them before? You’re certain if you’d met them before you’d remember them, you don’t tend to forget attractive people.

They’re oddly patient as they watch the cogs in your brain turn, your eyes taking in every detail of every feature. Your breath caught and your eyes went wide when you’d finally placed their faces.

“Present Mic and Eraserhead. You’re pro heroes.” The words are quiet, nearly imperceptible as you breathe them, but they’re close enough to hear. Present Mic beams at the recognition.

“In the flesh, sunshine. But we’d prefer you use our names.” Eraserhead leans away and sticks a hand out for a handshake.

“Shouta Aizawa.” You shake his hand and turn to the blonde, who similarly has his hand held out.

“Hizashi Yamada.” You introduce yourself, a bit shaky and only slightly starstruck. What in the world are two pro heroes doing talking to you? As you regain your composure you excuse yourself to the restroom. You weren’t prepared to talk to heroes tonight. A glance in the mirror has you sobering yourself, rationalizing their strange behavior. These two are pro heroes. They were clearly only worried about your safety, a woman all alone in a bar till the earliest hours of the morning. ‘That’s why they were watching me’, you muse. You quickly fix yourself, then step back out to the two heroes.

The three of you pass another hour of time before you decide it’s time for you to head home. They offer to give you a lift, but you politely decline. You can't intrude on them any more than you already had. Hizashi insists otherwise.

“Please Sunshine? If something were to happen to you we’d never forgive ourselves!” It made sense to you. They’re pro heroes after all, it’s in their nature to worry. So you oblige to ease their anxieties.

Since Shouta hadn’t touched any alcohol, he’s driving, and you punch your address into the GPS system of their very expensive looking car. As you sit back, Hizashi holds a bottle over his head.

“Water?” You thank him and drain the bottle, realizing you’re a bit more dehydrated than you initially thought. In your semi-drunk haze you fail to notice that the bottle had already been opened, and you miss Shouta’s eyes watching you down the beverage through the rearview mirror.

It’s only five minutes later you feel drowsy, your head lolling to the side and eyelids drooping. You don’t quite register the question Hizashi asks you, and when you don’t answer he turns around to look at you.

“You seem tired, Sunshine. Take a nap, we’ll wake you up when we get there.” Your exhaustion takes hold over any rational thoughts, and with a sleepy nod, you stretch out over the backseat and let your mind slip into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware you’ll never see your apartment again.

The first thing you notice as you wake up is how stiff and sore your muscles are. It takes you a moment to realize you aren’t in your clothes from last night, nor are you in your own bed. Your eyes snap open and you sit up, taking in the unfamiliar room. With a curse under your breath you scour your memory for anything, checking if you’d gone home with anyone or gotten yourself in a tight situation. The last thing you remember is being driven home by the two pros, then passing out in their backseat.

Questions began forming in your mind. ‘Where am I? How did I get here? Where had the two heroes gone?’ In an attempt to think clearer, you try crossing your legs, but your ankle is stopped short by something heavy. Throwing off the blanket, a thick metal cuff glinted in the light of the room, an equally thick chain leading somewhere over the side of the bed.

When your breathing begins to quicken, you settle your mind, refusing to panic. Willing yourself to relax, you begin to think about how you can get out of this situation. ‘Today should be Saturday. Assuming this room is part of a house, someone would most likely still be here’. With a small breath, you speak, hopefully loud enough for someone to hear you.

“H-hello? Is someone there?” It only takes a few seconds for footsteps to reach your ears, and the door opens to the last person you’re expecting to see. A ruggedly handsome Shouta Aizawa stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a small smirk on his lips.

“Good morning, Kitty.” As endearing as the pet name is, the only emotion you feel right now is confusion. Your mind is drifting to all the fanfiction you’d read online, piecing together the events of last night like a puzzle. ‘The bottle of water was already open’. In your defense, they’re pro heroes, it’s only natural for you-- or anyone, really-- to let your guard down. A large hand on your shoulder jolts you back to reality, your eyes wide as you stare up at Shouta like a deer in headlights.

“You okay Kitten?” All you can manage as you settle your thoughts is to blink up at the man, swallowing down the lump in your throat before letting out a shaky breath.

“Let me guess. I’m home now, aren’t I?” The man stares back down at you with subtly raised eyebrows before chuckling softly.

“That’s not the reaction I was expecting, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you.” He leaves you to your thoughts and your mind begins reeling once again. You understand this is wrong, that you shouldn’t be so willing, so obedient. You also know how boring your life has been up until now. How mundane and lonely you’d been for as long as you can remember.

You’d cut ties with your family long ago, and ‘friend’ is a very loose term. Most of the people you called friends are acquaintances at best, your antisociality and trust issues meant ‘making friends’ is not on your life agenda. Somehow you knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. You longed to give up control, to let someone else string you along and take the reins and let you relax, not have to worry about anything anymore. That side of you tended to make itself known through your explorative late teen years.

You’d had romantic partners before, though once anything intimate came up they all refused to associate with you anymore. They couldn’t understand your want to give up control, your need to submit. They refused to collar you ‘like an animal’. None of your partners ever understood the weight behind such a garment. This may be your chance at the relationship you’d always craved, regardless of its twisted nature.

Then there’s the logical side, the chances of you actually escaping. As a quirkless human in the presence of two trained pro heroes (assuming Hizashi is also in on this), the likelihood of you making it out is slim to nonexistent. If you somehow manage to get out, the two could easily track you down and just as easily drag you back. So, as wrong as it seems, you don’t fight it.

Shouta returns with a tray of breakfast, setting it down on your lap after you’d adjusted yourself to lean against the headboard. As he pulls back you mumble a ‘thank you’ and begin to eat, acknowledging the pang of hunger in your belly. As weird as it seems to say ‘thank you’ to your captor, you find it could be helpful even if only a little. Being polite is automatic, but it’s also a great way to make sure you don’t end up injured, or worse, dead somewhere, so for once in a long time your manners are intended. You’d gotten halfway through your meal when Shouta speaks up.

“You’re taking this really well.” He almost seems skeptical. You peer up at him as you finish the food in your mouth.

“There isn’t much use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out.” You motion to the cuff around your ankle and he gives a small chuckle.

“You’re not wrong, kitten.” He leaves to let you finish breakfast, returning ten minutes later and taking your empty tray. He comes back right after, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold in hand.

“I’m sure you need to use the bathroom.” You give a small nod, acknowledging the pressure in your bladder for the first time since you woke up. Gently, he takes your wrists and locks the cuffs around them, then holds up the blindfold before going to tie it around your head.

“These are just a precaution.” Soon you feel the cuff on your ankle fall away, and Shouta’s strong arms loop under your knees and back as he lifts you off the bed.You’re both surprised and not that he can lift you with relative ease. He is a pro hero after all. It takes less than 30 seconds for him to stop and gently place you down, taking the blindfold and cuffs off.

“I’ll be waiting just outside the door. Once you’re done, knock and I’ll take you back to bed.” You nod and he leaves, locking the door once he’s outside. Of course it locks from the outside. You take a moment to just think about your current predicament. Currently you’re locked in the house of a pro hero, being kept against your will (sort of). Your life had just taken an unexpected turn.

You knock on the door like Shouta said, and it isn’t long before you’re back on the bed with the cuff around your ankle. As he turns to leave you stop him, and he turns back to you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Can I...draw?” You didn’t know if he’d actually let you have anything, but it was worth a shot. If you were to be cooped up here you need to keep yourself occupied. With a low hum, he leaves the room and comes back with a sketch pad, pencil, and eraser.

Days come and go with either of the pros serving you three meals a day. They begin questioning your obedience, especially Hizashi. He questioned your lack of panic and how you never seemed to try to escape. Even he knows this isn’t normal. Shouta seems less skeptical, like he’d expected less of a fight than any normal, sane person would give. When Hizashi asked questions you answered truthfully. Lying is of no use to you.

“Really, I don’t mind it here. So far my life has been pretty shitty and boring, so this turn of events is mildly appreciated. Besides, you treat me relatively well, considering I’m being held captive, so I can’t say I’m upset.” You’d guessed from both your reading and their actions that they truly believed they cared about you. The chances of them hurting you are slim, so you’re able to live with them without fear.

The cuff around your ankle came off about a week in, and Shouta gave you the freedom to roam the house, though it wasn’t without warning. He held his hand out to you, an offer to help you stand, and you took it. Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and shift your weight to your feet. Your legs shake like a newborn fawn, but Shouta held you to let you stretch your legs and get comfortable walking again.

He led you out to what you assume is the dining table and sat you down, Shouta taking the seat on your right. You assume Hizashi is in the kitchen, what with the clatter and smell of food. Shouta asked what you’d been drawing, which caught you a bit off guard, but you answered anyway.

“Koi fish.” He hummed, focused on you.

“Any particular reason why?” You take a moment to think about your answer, it’s not a question you’re used to responding to.

“Well they’re gorgeous creatures. Elegant, sleek and graceful. The way they move is so mesmerizing, smooth and flawless like a flowing creek. I’ve always loved drawing koi.”

The conversation lapses into your fascination with the fish, how they somehow remind you of dragons and how the fantastical creature’s existence isn’t as far-fetched as it’s made out to be. Hizashi joins soon enough, serving dinner and listening in on the conversation.

Once you all finish eating you get comfortable on the couch, nestled between the two men. It isn’t long before you drift off to sleep, their body heat lulling you into dreamland. Shouta carries you to bed, carefully laying you down and pressing a light kiss to your temple. He stands above you, admiring your features as you sleep.

You’re gorgeous to him, a goddess in your own right. He and his blonde counterpart had started watching you mainly because you were a woman, completely alone and seemingly unarmed in a bar until the earliest hours of the morning. Neither of them could tell if you were quirkless or not, and as heroes they made sure to keep an eye on you during their weekly trip to the bar should you get into any trouble.

But eventually it became a habit to look for you, and the more they looked the farther they fell. You looked as exhausted as Shouta every time you stepped through the doors, hair just beginning to lose its style and shoulders sagged. But you were so beautiful, even in your exhausted state. Hizashi was the first to mention his infatuation to Shouta, but the raven-haired man had already figured the blonde was into you.

Soon enough they began to get antsy, constantly watching you walk out the door into the dead of night all alone. You’re just too trusting of the world outside, not taking enough precautions for a woman of your caliber. They made it their mission to make sure you were safe, and one day, take you back home where they could protect you.

Now that you’re here, it’s like a dream. Even as you sleep you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. How your lashes flutter against your cheeks, the way your lips softly part with every breath, how your chest gently rises and falls, it all makes him stare down at you in complete awe. It takes a great deal of willpower for him to tear his eyes away from you and join Hizashi in their room.

***3 months later***

A couple months have passed since you’d...moved in with the two men, and you can’t say you hate it. They’ve respected your privacy, allowing you to stay in your own room and letting you bathe yourself after refusing their attempts at persuading you to join them. Honestly it’s been nice living with them.

Though, the longer you’re with them the more thoughts begin gathering and swirling in your head. Caring thoughts, how their days progress, how they’re feeling at any point in time. And needy, dirty thoughts. Any time those pop up you make it a point to push them deep down into the farthest recesses of your brain, refusing to fuel those pesky embers.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you know what’s happening, what’s been happening. You’re no stranger to Stockholm Syndrome, having done your own minimal research on the subject a few years back. You constantly tell yourself this isn’t normal, nor is it healthy, to enjoy the company of your captors. You have to remind yourself that they had taken you from everything you knew, and even though there wasn’t much for you to love, they’d taken you from that as well.

But soon enough the illogical prevailed, because despite all of that, the two have been nothing but good to you.

In no time at all the days you spend alone in the large house are the days you find yourself missing their company, hoping they’d return sooner. You managed to dig through their clothes and pick out some of their older t-shirts, and began wearing them around the house. Their lingering scents have been a comfort as you patiently wait for them to come back. They don’t seem to mind at all, so you’re content.

As time passes you get closer with them, gravitating toward them and snuggling into either of their sides, letting them wrap an arm around you and tug you into them. You began giving kisses when they left and returned, a small peck on the cheek at the door. The first time you had engaged a kiss was a shock to both of them.

You had tugged Shouta’s sleeve and when he turned you silently grabbed his collar and yanked him down, leaving a small peck on his cheek, doing the same with Hizashi. They barely had the time to react before you dashed to your room and curled under the blankets, face heated and heart pounding like some schoolgirl who had confessed to her crush and got a positive response. That night you’d received more cuddles and kisses than normal.

The kisses became routine, and before long you all slept in the same bed. Strangely enough, life began to feel somewhat normal. The house began to feel like home.

And soon enough that schoolgirl crush manifested into something dirty, something lustful and carnal. Just as much as you long to be around them, you want desperately to feel their hands on your bare skin, mapping out the curves of your body as you writhe beneath them. You crave them and their touch. But of course you still have your pride. Dropping hints would have to suffice.

Slowly, subtly, you dress lighter, more scantily. No shorts under their t-shirts that barely cover your ass, allowing the stretched collars to drop and expose the slightest peek of skin. After a shower you walk back to the room in nothing but a towel, allowing the edge to ride up your thighs. Your tactics seemed to work, their eyes glued to the newly exposed skin, soaking in your plush thighs and soft skin. Their stares make you ache, but after weeks of nothing but lingering glances you decide to toss your pride out the window.

You have dinner ready when they walk in the door, and after everyone had eaten and showered you usher them both to the couch while you sit facing them from the coffee table. Their confusion is evident on their faces, your nervous fidgeting and reluctance to look them in the eyes didn’t help. What you’re about to bring up is embarrassing to say the least, but staying silent would be a detriment to your sanity. With a steadying breath, you meet their gaze and quietly force out your seemingly ridiculous request.

“So… I enjoy being here with you,” your fingers twist into the hem of your shirt and you swallow down the lump in your throat, “and I really appreciate that you’ve given me anything I asked for-”

“No.” Shouta’s voice suddenly cuts off your sentence.

“You can’t go outside, Kitten. I’m sorry, but that’s non-negotiable right now.” You blink dumbly at him, completely thrown off balance by his statement before you catch yourself, waving your hands frantically in front of you.

“No! Oh god, that’s not…um…. I wasn’t asking to go outside. I love being here, with you, and doing whatever but...it’s what we don’t do...that’s bothering me...just a little bit…” By now your voice is so quiet and high-pitched you wonder if they can even hear you. Hizashi, bless his heart, is just as confused as before the conversation started.

“Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. If you think about it, there’s actually a lot we don’t do.” Shouta holds a hand up, silencing the blonde. His dark eyes drag over your body, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly rub together and you can’t meet his gaze. You squirm, the intensity in his eyes something you aren’t used to but it makes you hot all over. His hand comes down on his thigh twice.

“Come here, Kitty.” Slowly, you stand and walk to him, letting his hands grab your hips and pull you down to straddle his lap. A finger curls under your chin, angling your head to look Shouta in the eyes. A small smirk pulls the corner of his mouth, a moment of realization flashing across his face.

“Our little Kitty is getting needy ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right, Kitten?” Heat flooded your face, your embarrassment and arousal sending hot blood to your face and chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hoping they’d do something about the very horny state you’re in. Shouta’s hand moves to your hip again, lifting you and placing you in Hizashi’s lap before standing and walking away.

The blonde cooed at the surprised squeak you let out at the sudden movement, and you open your eyes to his wide grin. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels nice, and you let your body melt into him and his warmth, his long fingers digging into the flesh of your lower back as he tugs you closer and a pleasant haze settles over your mind.

It’s a blissful moment shared between you, and Shouta returns just as Hizashi pulls away from the kiss. They share a look you can’t place before the former raises a hand to gently stroke your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He seems conflicted, trying to mull over some sort of decision in his brain, his brows just barely drawn and jaw set. When his eyes dropped to his other hand, yours followed, to find he held a long thin black velvet box. Clearly it holds some sort of jewelry.

After a few moments he turns it to you and lifts the lid, and your heart damn near stops beating. Whether it’s from excitement or a brief flash of fear, you don’t know. These two have been watching you for much longer than just at the bar. Those few months are only the tip of the iceberg, but how they’d come to notice you would probably forever remain a mystery to you.

Right now, all that matters is that they know everything. From your failed relationships to the reason they’d all ended. They had to know, that’s the only explanation. There’s no possible way it’s pure coincidence that you now gaze down at a beautifully crafted leather collar. It’s simple, thin, black dotted sparsely with sparkling gems and a dainty metal ring centered at the front. Tentatively, you reach out and trace the leather with your fingers.

“Is this...for me?” A deep hum sounds in Shouta’s chest, and that’s answer enough for you. Shouta plucks the garment from its seat and moves behind you. The cool leather feels heavenly as he loops it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. Everything seemed to go quiet as you waited for something, anything, to solidify this moment.

Click.

You shudder out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shouta tilts your head and presses his lips to yours, looping a finger through the collar and giving a gentle tug. It makes you mewl, allowing him space to slip his tongue behind your teeth. He can see your pupils dilate when he pulls away, plush lips slick with saliva, lust invading your mind. You look so needy and desperate for them, so fucking gorgeous.

Hizashi leaves a kiss on your cheek then picks you up and places you on your feet. Both men grab either of your hands, lacing their fingers with yours, and gently pull you with them to the bedroom. Hizashi begins undressing first, and you can only let your eyes drag over his bare upper body for a moment before Shouta grabs your chin and distracts you with another kiss. This one is more passionate, heated, rough as his tongue effortlessly invades and dominates your mouth. Hizashi’s voice permeates your lust-filled haze.

“Come here, baby.” Shouta pulls away and allows you to walk over to where the blonde sits naked on the edge of the bed. He motions for you to turn around and you oblige, then he grabs your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap, your back pressed to his chest. You watch as Shouta undresses, baring his skin to you as Hizashi tasks himself with undressing you.

Your shirt is the first to be removed, a groan spilling from the blonde when he discovers you aren’t wearing a bra. He pulls you flush against his chest, peppering wet kisses down your neck and shoulders as your eyes roam over Shouta’s sculpted frame. The raven haired man makes his way over, kneeling down between your legs and reaching up to toy with your breasts, rough fingers working your nipples until they peak. Hizashi’s hands find their way down to the pouch of your stomach, grabbing at the soft pliant flesh and squishing the fat there.

You let out a low whine, feeling extremely self-conscious with his hands working at the parts of your body you hate the most. You grab at his wrists in an attempt to pull him away, but he hushes you and whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

“It’s okay, pretty baby. Let me feel you.” You will yourself to let him go, let his hands explore your body the way he wants. He keeps his hands on your belly, long fingers massaging into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He’s nipping and kissing at your neck, whispering praises into your ear as he fondles all the fatty parts of you.

Shouta’s hands reach up and tug your panties down, then grip your thighs and pull them apart, exposing you to his hungry eyes. You can’t help but feel exposed, uncomfortable, as they touch and gaze at every part of yourself you had always despised. A whimper builds in your chest, tears beginning to sting your eyes and your breath shaking. Hizashi leans over and kisses your tears away as Shouta leans forward and kisses at your belly and thighs, hands working at whatever flesh he couldn’t get his lips on.

“Let us love you. All of you. You’re such a pretty kitty.” You let yourself relax, let yourself relish in the fact that these two gorgeous men are doting over your body like you’re a goddess, like they couldn’t live if they didn’t worship every one of your perfect imperfections. Though you’re far from comfortable, the initial fear subsides, allowing them full access to you.

“Good girl kitty, good girl.” Shouta whispers as he nips at your thighs, sucking little red marks into your skin. He hooks your legs over Hizashi’s, and the blonde’s fingers dip down to tease your folds, barely breaching your little hole and making you buck for more friction. A soft moan slips from your lips as he pushes two long fingers into your soaked pussy.

You rock your hips into his hand, his palm barely brushing against your clit making you mewl. Shouta focuses his attention on your breasts and belly where Hizashi left bare, kneading and kissing and licking, leaving blooming marks all over your skin. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning impossibly hot. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, grinding his palm down against your clit hard and curling his fingers to hit that spot that has you seeing stars.

When the knot snaps you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking. You throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in intense waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high, legs trembling and toes curling with the continued stimulation.

After your release you relax back down, chest heaving with every breath. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy.

“Are you ready for me kitty?” You look up at him through your lashes and nod fervently, needing him desperately despite the sensitivity. He tugs at your collar gently.

“Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?” Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without any real thought.

“Yes Daddy.” Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath, thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out all at once. The air is punched from your lungs, the stretch around his thick length almost enough to make you cum a second time. Shouta leans down and kisses at the bruises Hizashi had left on your neck, giving you some time to adjust. It only takes a few moments for your walls to stop clamping down on him.

“I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me.” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of you.

Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth, your tongue sliding over them, coating them in your saliva.

He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Your legs quake with the quick building pleasure, your second orgasm creeping up fast. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling your body flush against him and sitting up.

Lithe, cold fingers suddenly dance around your back entrance, toying with your puckered hole. A single finger pushes in and you mewl and squirm at the new sensation. A second finger works its way in, the two digits working to stretch you gently. Soon there’s a third, and when you’re relaxed the fingers are gone and replaced by the thick head of Hizashi’s cock.

“You ready, sweet thing?” You nod and whine, a little weary but ready to be full of the two men. He slowly inches his way inside, shallow thrusts sinking him deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. Both men pepper wet kisses along your shoulders, giving you time to relax, but you don’t need it. You whine, wiggle your hips in an attempt to get them to move, and they oblige.

Their initial pace is slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein as they slip in and out of you. They build up a rhythm, when one is bottomed out the other has only the tip in, and soon you’re drooling from the amount of stimulation you’re getting. Hizashi’s fingers move down to work at your clit, and just the slightest touch has you trembling. The stimulation shoves you over the edge and has you cumming hard around them, your slick dripping down your thighs. They slow their pace slightly, your holes clamping down on them and attempting to milk them dry. Hizashi’s fingers rub your clit harder, overstimulating you.

“Do you have one more for us baby? I know you can cum one more time for us.” You whine, thrashing in their arms trying to simultaneously get away and tug them closer. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach and Shouta leans over and bites down on your shoulder. The pain pulls you over, crying out as you clamp down on their lengths hard. Their hips stutter as they chase their own release, and they shoot rope after rope of cum into you as you ride out your own high.

They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments they pull out together, the movement making you moan and tremble. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him, stroking your hair and back. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders, both cooing praises in your ears.

Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom, where Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he unlocks your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back from the intense scene.

“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, wanting to be close to the both of them. The hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off and takes you from Shouta. He dries you off with a towel and locks your collar back around your neck.

“Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us.” Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.

You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, content with the new life you’d been brought into.

#erasermic #yandere erasermic #erasermic x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #erasermic smut #erasermic mha #erasermic bnha #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa smut #hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada x reader #hizashi yamada smut #shouta aizawa mha #shouta aizawa bnha #hizashi yamada mha #hizashi yamada bnha

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

Note

Just wanted to say 2 things:

1)Love the fic where he proposed over a cup of tea…so sweet💗

2) we all know how H has asthma sometimes so…could u write something w/the reader helping him with an attack idk or during an interview/concert/family gathering do as u pls

A nice day

XOXO

firstly, thank you so much that’s so sweet of you <33 and secondly, um yes i would love to give this a go at writing for you! hope you enjoy;

Harry couldn’t breathe.

He was in a panic, completely terrified of the uncontrollable situation. He was having an asthma attack concocted with a panic attack and it was brutal.

“Shit,” Jeff whispered as he watched Harry breathe heavily and loudly on the floor. His friend was currently on his hands and knees trying to gasp for air, whilst dressed in his notorious Fine Line outfit.

It was the big night. The one night only at The Forum for the release of his new album Fine Line, hence the costume. He had been nervous all day, with shaking hands and a tendency to forget simple things. You had been with him all day; having a slow brunch together out in the Hollywood Hills and then just chilling around for the afternoon. You didn’t want to anything to strain his voice, so talking hadn’t been an option. That left you either to sleeping and cuddling, whilst watching a movie, or sex. Now you were all for sex, but Harry complained that he liked talking to you during it and so that got shut down pretty quickly. You didn’t forget what he whispered to your ear though just before you cuddled into watching Bambi;

“Keep your moans for later, you’ll be fucking needing them for what I have planned.”

But that was over two hours ago now. Harry had been whisked away to start getting ready, what with hair and makeup first. You’d left him to it, telling him you would just lounge around and wait for him. It was when he was getting into costume had you announced you were just going to go down the street to get some coffee from Dunkin’ - seeing as there were few of them back in England, where you most commonly lived with Harry. The problem was you hadn’t come back yet, and it was an hour later.

“Harry mate, you need to calm down.” Kid Harpoon told him carefully, kneeling down next to his good friend. Nothing was working though and Harry was too breathless to ask anyone for his inhaler.

It had started by thinking about how nervous he actually was for tonight. It was such a huge show and one of a kind too. He was playing his new album and it wasn’t even 24 hours old yet. There was so much pressure weighing him down that he couldn’t breathe - he was suffocating in the anxiety of his own mind and he couldn’t escape at all. Then because he was in so much of a panic his asthma hit him and added another reason to his breathlessness. It was finally made worst when he realised you weren’t by his side to help him. You weren’t there to quickly eliminate the asthma and focus on helping him overcome the panic attack, instead he had his mates surrounding him - crowding him - and they didn’t know the first thing to do.

“Sarah, where’s Y/N?” Mitch shouted, making Harry squint the thought away. He didn’t want to think about how something back might’ve happened or might be happening to you. Where were you? Sarah’s response did no better to help him.

“I don’t know.”

“Harry bud. Talk to us.” Jeff spoke, crouched down in front of him. Harry shook his head, tears running from his eyes as he began crying. The sobs were really harsh and embarrassing. The tears were heavy and mixed with snot running from his nose to pool on the floor below him. He was not doing well at all, coughing when the asthma choked him up. He couldn’t do this. He felt like he was in a small box and it was only getting smaller. He felt as if he were going to die. Genuinely.

“Does he look like he can talk, dickward.” Adam’s voice came from the other side of Harry, messing his head up even more. There was so many voices and he couldn’t focus on just one, but he didn’t want to. He wanted yours. He needed yours. You.

Whenever this has happened before he was always luckily in the comfort of his home, or the tour bus and always with you. So this was unfamiliar and terrifying. He was beginning to think you’d left him or you’d gotten seriously hurt, but he couldn’t do anything to help. He was stuck - paralysed to this position as his lungs collapsed in on themselves and his brain sped the same speed as a train. You were his comfort person and it was only ever you that he wanted in situations like these. Just you.

“Move out of my way. Move!” Harry thought he heard you and your voice, but he hated that his mind could be playing tricks on him in desperation for what, or whom, he truly wanted.

He felt someone crash on the floor in front of him and the almighty smell of lavender and soap hit him all at once. This time, he was glad to have someone sit so close to him, because it was you.

“Harry look at me, hey, hey. You’re okay. Look at me bubs.” You spoke calmly, trying not to sound panicked yourself, even if you were heavily worried. You watched as he looked up at you, eyes ridiculously red and puffy whilst his nose was dripping like a leaking tap. You wanted to rub his tears away and dab away the snot, but your main priority was on his breathing first. “Okay good, okay.”

Your hand went into your bag and picked out his inhaler. You shook it a few times, before putting it into Harry’s mouth. “On three, one, two, three…” Harry tried is best to breathe in and you pushed down on the canister. “Good, bubs, really good. Okay again, one, two, three…” You repeated and then a third time until you could tell that the wheezing of his asthma attack had disappeared.

“T-than…” Harry tried to mumble out, but couldnt because he was still in panic and his throat was so dry.

“Sshh you’re okay.” You turned to one of the crew members and asked for them to fetch you a bottle of water. You asked people to clear out of the room and leave you with Harry for a bit, knowing he wouldn’t settle in front of all these people. You sat on the floor, crossed legged, and brought Harry to lay his head in your lap with his body trailing behind. You offered him one of your hands to squeeze if he wanted to, which he appreciated, cupping both of his around yours. Your other hand laid to stroke through his gelled hair - that would no doubt have to be redone now.

Instead of going straight into talking to him, you sang his favourite lullaby to him in aid of calming him down. It always worked, or at least helped a little. You sang quietly, noticing the beat of his heart soften with every line you sung. You were by no means a professional singer like him, but he liked the way it was so imperfect and mellow. It calmed him to hear something so simple and so you. Whilst you sang the crew never came back with your requested water and you thanked them, before you were the only ones left in the room.

After you finished singing you noticed how calm Harry was, almost still - the complete opposite to how he’d been all of 10 minutes ago. It was amazing what the power of you could do to him.

“What colour are we feeling?” You and Harry had created your own little system by which you would let each other know how you’re feeling by a colour of the rainbow. You’d designated a meaning to all of them that only you two could understand and used them on the days when you weren’t feeling great, to help understand each other’s feelings better.

“The whole bloody rainbow.” Harry mumbled out and you passed the water around so he could take a few sips, to which he thanked you graciously for.

“Oi, you can’t have that as your answer.” It was a rule that you could only use one colour to some your most intense emotion in that moment, otherwise there was kind of no point to the system.

“But it’s true. I feel grey with confusion, blue with sadness, purple with frustration, yellow with fear and even light yellow with cowardice. Yet I feel pink with happiness and light red with love.”

“What about red red?” You teased, not being able to help yourself.

“What? Lust? Always, for you that is.” You leant down to kiss his head as he cracked a joke, showing you that your Harry was still there beneath all this worry.

“Tell me what the colours represent in real life.”

“Purple because I am frustrated that I had to have a panic attack right before the biggest show of my career. Yellow because I am frightened that nobody will like the album and it will be a complete fail of a night. Grey because I can’t choose one colour and focus on it. I.. I—”

You could tell he getting himself worked up again, so cut him short. “Bubs stop, you’re okay. Listen to me.” You tucked his hair behind his ear as if to open it up for him to hear better. “Don’t ever be frustrated with yourself for something like this. You are allowed to have moments of weakness; you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. Did this compromise your show? No. Did this show off how strong and brave you are? Yes. That’s what is important, therefore we can swap purple for dark yellow because you were brave. Which means yellow can also turn to dark yellow because you are so brave for doing something so huge and so wonderful. People already love the album H. Can’t get enough of it. Everyone will sing along to every word, I can promise you that. Or at least I will. You are amazing, so never undersell yourself. That’s important to me and for you. Bubs, you are so amazing for what you’re doing here tonight and I couldn’t be prouder of you. Yes, a panic attack isn’t nice and it isn’t convenient, but it just helps show how much you care about tonight and it going a success. That must count for something.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit and that was okay. He was most likely getting his thoughts together and mentally preparing himself for the greatest night of his life. You bent your body over so you could hug him, since his back was to your front, and just give him a squeeze to reiterate how proud you are of him.

“Y/N.” Harry spoke quietly, as your body encased his. You embraced his warmth and inhaled the beautiful scent that he was wearing. He both smelt and looked phenomenal.

“Yes bubs.”

“You know I love you right?” Of course you did, but it still made your heart flutter as crazy as the first time he said it to when he tells you now.

“I do.”

“And you know you’re it for me right?”

“Well.. I—” You didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself.

“Because you are.” Harry turned himself around, making you sit up so he could move. He was lying with his head facing upwards now, face looking less red and puffy, and staring right into the souls of your eyes. He looked magical. Beautiful. He thought the same of you. “And,” he moved his fingers to take off his S ring from Gucci, that probably cost more than your annual salary, and place it onto your ring finger of your right hand, “I give you this as a promise to share my last name with you someday.”

Seeing the initial of his last name sat on the finger opposite to the one he claimed he would one day put two more rings on, brought you to tears. “Harry…” You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless. You had never expected for him to do something as monumental as this and had never experienced it before to know how to react.

Of course you’d always dreamt of marrying him and being his for eternity, but never thought of it possibly becoming your reality. Now, Harry was completely devoting himself to you and only you and it suddenly all felt like the dream was settling in place.

“I swear to you Y/N, i’ll love you until the next lifetime and i’ll find you again. I love you so much, I can’t even tell you how much because it is so infinite. You’re so kind and patient with me and you see me for me, not for the Harry Styles, just Harry. I’ll never let a day pass without you on my mind and I think it’s because you were always meant to be mine. My heart is yours.” He smiled once he noticed you were crying, moving one of his hands up to wipe the tears away.

“How do I top that?” You whispered to him, but mostly to yourself. Both of you laughed.

“Just tell me you love me.”

“I do. I do love you Harry.” You nodded and then he sealed your confirmation with a kiss to his lips. You rested your hand upon his cheek, placing the coolness of the S ring upon his cheekbone, as he placed his hand under your chin to guide you into the kiss. He tasted divine and you smiled knowing that you got to have him like this, taste him like this, for the rest of your beating hearts’ days.

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago

Text

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

1K notes · View notes

mellowyandere · 4 years ago

Text

One Hell of a Logical Ruse Part 2

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might)

Summary: Toshinori's anxiety over your absence quickly gave way to anger as he tired of your attitude. His own version of a punishment was in order.

Length: 6.7k

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Based off the pre-established fic You’re Ours to Protect.

Toshinori and Hizashi were pacing the kitchen, phones in hand as they tried to get Shouta to respond. You had been missing for upwards of six hours now and the pros were on the verge of losing it. Their sleepy counterpart had stated he wouldn't need the two blonds help, but try as they might they couldn't help the anxiety clawing away at their minds.

"Fuck Toshi what if she got hurt? I know she's capable 'n all but the woods! There's god knows what out there!" The smaller blond was vibrating he was so wound up, the mental image of bugs crawling all over you and coyotes tearing you to pieces sending him into a panic.

All Might's anxieties were a bit more practical, imagining you finding your way to the road and trying to hitch hike away from them. What if a villain found you and hurt you? Nowhere was safer than home with them.

"Shouta is fully capable of finding her, any minute now and he'll give me a call..." The words were meant to bring Hizashi comfort, but he was struggling to convince himself as well. His phone was clutched in his large hand, its silence on the verge of killing him.

When it finally rang he almost threw it across the room as he fumbled it. Slamming the answer button he brought the phone to his ear.

"Where is she, is she hurt, is she alright?"

"Calm down she's fine. Dirty and upset, but otherwise relatively unharmed."

Hizashi bounded over, ears perked so he could listen in on the conversation. His perfectly aligned teeth worried his bottom lip at his husbands word choice of relatively. So he was a bit rough on recovery.

"I'll send you our coordinates, she managed to get pretty far into the endless forest. Good thing that contact of yours set up this quirk or else she would have reached the main road hours ago."

Toshinori heard your disgruntled yelling in the background at Shouta's newest revelation before the line went dead. His phone pinged and he made a mental note of where the two of you were. Taking a deep breath he puffed up his chest, taking on his more muscular appearance before running out the front door.

-----

An endless forest. Go figures. From what you could tell the further you wandered into the woods the deeper they actually became. You weren't exactly sure how they got in and out the house around the quirk, but the path you took was clearly not it.

You were currently sitting on the ground, back to Shouta as you simmered. Now that he was no longer plastered on top of you your anger was rekindled. You could feel his eyes burning holes into you, but you were far too pissed off to acknowledge him. It was a good thing he seemed to know when to leave you be, not bothering with conversation after fucking you into the forest floor.

The only thing he'd done since violating you was get his capture weapon, dragging you along so he didn't lose sight of you again.

Your head was still pounding from when you had hit the ground earlier. Combining that with how filthy you were and Shouta's cooling cum on your inner thighs, and you feel like absolute shit.

The sound of a loud thud behind you caused you to flinch. You didn't have it in you to turn around and face the number one hero right now, not sure if you would be able to handle whatever expression was on his face.

"Oh goodness, Shouta she's a mess what did you do?"

The dark haired man simply huffed in response, eyes rolling at the number ones concern.

"Just get us home, she needs a bath."

You hated when they talked about you like you weren't there, as if you were just some pet or child instead of your own autonomous person.

All Mights heavy footsteps approached you, stopping just shy of touching you. When you made no move to acknowledge his presence he sighed deeply, tutting at your behavior, before scooping you up bridal style. You closed your eyes to avoid looking at him, turning away from his broad chest.

"Shouta you can just grip around my neck from behind, it will only take a couple minutes to get back."

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes at his words. He had covered what took you six hours in mere minutes.

As soon as Eraserhead had confirmed himself secure All Might took off. Wind rushed passed you as he soared high above the canopy. You peeked your eyes open, trying desperately to see where the forest ended, but much to your dismay the nearest city looked to be hundreds of miles away, and any possible roads were obscured by trees.

"Take a good look Y/N," Toshinori murmured to you, voice rumbling against your ear. He didn't need to say more, you understood him loud and clear. Escape won't be possible, even if you get out you can't outrun me, and even if you hide it's only a matter of time before we find you. Your tears of frustration fell more freely now. Way to rub salt in the wound.

When you landed a minute or so later Shouta wasted no time in dropping off the giant while Toshinori quickly brought you inside. Hizashi greeted you at the front door, a strange mixture of relief, anger and disappointment swirling in his emerald eyes.

"Oh no baby look at yah. I got the water runnin' in the master bath in your room Toshi come on lets get her clean." Toshinori followed Hizashi upstairs, refusing to put you down. You all trailed through his bedroom, simplistic design leaving the space void of personality, until you ended up in his bathroom. The room was large, to accommodate the size of its owner, with white marble tiles on the floor, accompanied by white walls and white appliances, giving the room a sterile feeling.

"Hizashi, Shouta, I'll take care of her for now." You had expected a bit of protest from Hizashi but he merely walked out with a sad nod.

"Take it easy on her okay, it's partially my fault she got out..." Shouta mumbled, following his husband out of the bathroom. The door closed with a soft click and for the first time since coming into this house you found yourself alone with All Might. He was normally so busy you barely ever saw him, but now here he was, gently lowering you to the floor.

He stepped away from you, running his hand under the large free standing tubs faucet to test the water temperature. Hizashi had left everything he'd need to clean you up, towel and spare clothes included.

"Go ahead and strip." His voice was colder than normal, an edge to it that filled you with unease. Turning to finally look at him you sucked in your breath. His eyes were fixated on you, searing you with a look that was equal parts disappointment and wounded. He was still in his muscular form, kneeling impatiently beside the bath.

Heat rushed to your face as you slowly began to peel off your filthy clothes, until you were standing in front of him in your bra and underwear. He quirked an eyebrow at you as his frowned deepened.

"All of it." Anger and fear mixed dangerously in your mind as you glared at him.

"I can clean myself."

"I don't recall asking if you could. Strip, now."

When you made no move to comply he threw his head back in exasperation, heaving a large sigh before standing to his full height.

"I have had enough of your behavior young lady. I understand your frustration with us, but we're doing this for your own good. Would you really rather waste away in prison?"

"I'd rather you assholes just kill me already or something, this whole playing pet thing is really starting to piss me off!" His face dropped, teeth grinding against one another as his mind processed what you said. You had no idea how villains got the nerve to fight him, right now it was taking everything inside you to not back down and apologize.

"Kill you? Are you serious right now!" He stomped up to you, frame looming over you threateningly as his eyes blazed with fury.

Swallowing hard you steeled your nerves, you had nothing left to lose so might as well give him a piece of your mind.

"I was perfectly fine before you fuckers brought me here! I don't need you! The fact that you had to prevent me from using my quirk is proof enough that I don't need you! Sure I might not have had much, but it was mine! My life to own and do whatever the hell I wanted with, not yours to take!"

"The moment you decided killing people was the only way to solve your problems was the moment you lost the rights to your life. As heroes in this world, and enforcers of justice, you are sentenced to our care. Now stop arguing with me and strip."

Puffing out your chest you narrowed your tear stained eyes and fixed him with the nastiest look you could muster. "Fuck. You."

In that moment you saw something inside him snap. Mouth pulled tight in a terrifying scowl, he had you maneuvered faster than you could comprehend. One moment you had been standing in front of him, the next you were strewn over his lap, facing the floor.

You yelled out in anger, clawing at his calves through his cargo pants. You knew what would be coming next, but your brain didn't want to slow down to think about how humiliating it was about to be.

"If you want to act like a child then you'll be punished like one. Count. One for every hour you were gone. Be grateful it's not more."

"Let go of me you fucking assho- aH!"

His large hand made contact with your clothed ass, the slap muffled by the sound of running water.

"Count."

You bit down on your bottom lip hard, tears leaving trails as they washed the dirt down your face. You waited with bated breath, the stinging on your ass for now was bearable enough.

"Y/N, you will count on this next one or I will double your punishment. I'm done playing games with you."

You tensed on the expanse of his massive thighs. You didn't want to count, didn't want to give in, but deep down you knew you'd never win.

His hand came down again with another resounding smack right on top of the first hit. You let out a sob from the impact, choking out a soft "one" as your self preservation instincts kicked your ego to the curb.

"Good, only five more to go."

Your head hung in shame as you waited for your punishment to end, jolting and squeaking out numbers every time he made contact with your burning flesh. To his credit he applied the same level of force with each hit, but every time he made contact the intensity of your burn increased until finally you cried out a broken "six".

You felt so pathetic, strewn across All Mights lap. You used to be so independent, never did you imagine this would be your fate. What happened to your self confidence? The fire inside of you that pushed you to rid the world of villains felt smoldered. Doused by the degrading nature of your stay with the three pro heroes.

It made you want to curl up in a ball and cry until your head pounded from exhaustion. Today was simply getting to be too much for you to mentally handle. From your failed escape attempt, your pathetic attempt at self defense against Shouta, learning running was a pointless waste of your time, to now getting a spanking like a fucking child from All Might himself. The list of losses just kept adding up, and none of them were in your favor.

You were openly sobbing, and the fact that you were crying was pissing you off even more, making for a horrible cycle where you simply cried harder. Toshinori gently moved you around in his hold until he had you clutched to his chest, gently shushing you as you clung to him. Despite how wrong it was you found comfort in Toshinori as he rubbed soft circles into your back, grasping small handfuls of his t-shirt as you stained the white fabric with tears and dirt.

"Everything is going to be okay, I know you've had a bad day and being locked up isn't easy for you. Just give it some time Y/N and you'll see that things here aren't so bad with us. We're here for you, and we're never going to tire of you, even with that stubborn attitude of yours."

Toshinori waited patiently for your sobbing to turn into soft hiccups before peeling you off of him. He removed what little clothes you had left and then lowered you into the tub. The drain was unplugged since you were still filthy, and sitting you in a full tub of water would murky up the clean bath.

Grabbing a large cup Toshinori filled it and poured water over your naked body. You watched with unfocused and puffy eyes as the proof of your failed escape attempt swirled down the drain. Only when the water finally ran clear did Toshinori put the plug in. The lulling warmth progressively crept higher up your body, your head bobbing as you grew sleepy. Toshinori turned the water off once the water had reached your chest, leaving it a good bit from the lip of the tub.

You heard the rustling of clothes but paid the source no mind. You didn't so much as react when the now naked hero stepped into the bath, shimmying down until you were surrounded by him. The water level rose drastically with the addition of the 560 pound man. His thick thighs were splayed on either side of you, solid abdominal muscles pressed into your back.

You heard the pop of a bottle before two large hands gently began to lather your skin in body wash.

"I'm not sure how you like your hair cleaned princess. Whenever women find out I use two in one shampoo they give me a look like I kicked a puppy so I'll just leave that to you for another time." He chuckled softly as he spoke, massaging the tightness out of your shoulders before moving down to your arms.

He spoke so casually, as if all his anger from earlier evaporated with the ending of your punishment. You found yourself grateful that he moved on so quickly instead of lingering on your emotional degradation.

You felt his cock stir a bit as he came back to your chest, cupping them and working the soap onto your skin with more attention than he'd shown your shoulders. You stiffened a bit, but since he made no further move to grind himself against you, you remained in his hold.

"I'm sorry for being rough with you, I'd much rather do something relaxing like this than bring you pain." He pulled you until your head was laying on the expanse of his chest, the deep pounding of his heart mingling with the ringing in your ears. It was almost relaxing, minus the growing erection pressed against your lower back.

Reluctantly his hands left your breast, moving further down your body. He rubbed the soft expanse of your stomach, humming happily at your lack of resistance to him. Only when his hands drifted further did you begin to stir a bit.

"Now young lady I need to make sure all of you is cleaned up okay? You're behaving yourself so well I'd really hate to ruin the moment."

"No, no. Please. Just this one thing.."

His hands paused. He hated how broken you sounded right now. Pulling back he raised his arms outside the tub and rested them along the edges. You relaxed a bit as he retreated.

"Alright Y/N, do you need any soap?"

Sighing softly in relief, you were glad that he was willing to give you this. It almost made you feel human again.

"Nah, it's not healthy to use soap down there."

Toshinori merely hummed in acknowledgement, sliding further into the bath and pushing you along with him as he got comfortable.

You cleaned your core gently, it was still a bit sore from what Shouta had done earlier to you. Only once you deemed yourself spotless did you get soap to lather on the parts of you Toshinori had not gotten to. Speaking of, his breathing had gotten a lot deeper. You peaked back at him noticing his head uncomfortably resting against the tub as he drifted into unconsciousness.

Peering down his naked body you couldn't help but gasp softly as you took note of the large injury covering part of his abdomen. You turned towards him, sending ripples through the water as you cautiously brought your hand to the deep scar. You knew that All Might had been injured enough to force him into a smaller form, but seeing the injury first hand was something else entirely. Who on earth had been able to hurt this titan of a man?

You hadn't realized Toshinori had woken up until his large hand gently covered your own. Meeting his soft gaze you were taken aback by his sad smile.

"The man who did this to me, some say it would be best if I just killed him already. But that's not what heroes do, that's not what Nana would do."

Taking hold of your body Toshinori moved you until he had you straddling the smallest part of his waist. Since you were both completely naked you kept your eyes trained on his injury, heat rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy of the position. His hands rose from the water, gently cupping your face and drawing your gaze to his own.

"When I look at you sometimes I can see her. Your strong will, your intelligence, how beautiful you are... but you're not the same person. Not in a bad way, no you are unique. Your own individual, and someone who I've come to love, even if you don't feel the same way."

His blue orbs were hypnotizing, almost as if he believed if he tried hard enough your own glassy orbs would mirror his loving gaze, or perhaps he'd see it hidden in the depths of your irises.

This moment was far too intimate and personal for your comfort, it was so different than anything any of the men had done before. In a way you almost preferred when they failed to acknowledge you as an equal, it made it easier to hate them. But right now, sitting in the warm bath atop Toshinori, you could feel your resolve slipping.

You didn't want to bring attention to his confession so you decided to try and divert the subject.

"Who's Nana?" You had never heard of her before, not even in tabloids referring to All Might. Toshinori's hands froze on your face, eyes scrunching up as he contemplated on how he wanted to answer.

"Nana... Nana was my mentor. Though calling her that doesn't feel right, she was more like a mother to me. She's the reason I am who I am. Without her I'd be nothing."

Past tense, he was using a lot of past tense. It didn't take a genius to interpret why. His forlorn expression filled in the gaps, so you didn't bother to ask what had become of her. He saw you in the same light he saw this woman?

"Y/N, will you sleep with me tonight?"

Taking note of your hesitation he continued speaking before you could voice any protests.

"Coming home and realizing you were gone.. I was so worried, so afraid I'd never see you again. That you'd be taken away from me, and I don't know if I can handle losing you. I've lost so many people that I cared deeply about, I refuse to lose you too."

How in the ever loving fuck were you supposed to refuse him now. Even though you were still mad at him from his earlier form of punishment you couldn't find it in you to hurt him right now.

"Yeah that's fine, but just tonight. You probably put off a ridiculous amount of heat or snore or something..."

Toshinori flashed you his signature smile before bellowing out a laugh. The water rippled and your body jostled along with his hearty chuckle.

"Me? Snore? No, it'll be the coughing that might get to you haha-ack"

Pain flashed across his face before you felt his body rapidly shrink beneath you with a large puff of smoke. He scrambled upright, causing you to fall against him as he hacked out a lung. You awkwardly placed your hand on his back and rubbed small circles as one of his arms gripped you tightly for balance.

"So-sorry I think I was in my muscular form for too long."

He looked a bit sheepish, using the back of his forearm to wipe off some blood that had dribbled down his chin. You merely sat there, doing your best to look anywhere but him as he collected himself.

"The water's getting cold, come on let's get out princess."

You stood up first, awkwardly stepping over his legs and out of the tub. You were a bit embarrassed that he kept his eyes trained on you the whole time while his hands hovered to ensure your safety. A pile of large fluffy towels were set to the side of the tub on a stool. Grabbing the one on top you began the process of drying off.

You heard the sloshing of water as Toshinori stood up, followed by the sound of the plug being pulled and water draining. Looking over it amazed you that even in his smaller form he was was still intimidating. Wiry muscles clung tight to his frame, the angles of his face casting shadows across his eyes. Stepping out he grabbed a towel and proceeded to dry himself off as well.

"Hizashi left you some clothes it would seem... though they look a bit uncomfortable. You can borrow a spare shirt of mine, I also have a spare toothbrush on the top right hand draw of the counter if you want to hide out in my room tonight."

You very much wanted to avoid Hizashi, not sure if you could handle whatever he'd have in store for you right now. Out of three men here, he made you the most nervous. Even now, as you held the scandalous lingerie up to the light you knew he was still going to want his share of punishment.

"I'll take your shirt offer, as well as the hiding out offer. I don't think I can handle him tonight."

Toshinori hummed in acknowledgement before heading to his bedroom and shuffling about before reappearing with one of his large white t-shirts. He had on boxers now, which he must have bought specifically for his smaller form because they hugged all of him rather snugly. Tossing the shirt your way he meandered about the bathroom, preparing for sleep.

You both finished around the same time, leaving you to awkwardly shuffle towards his gigantic bed. He followed behind you, large hand on the small of your back to encourage you onwards.

You wanted him to sleep on the other side of the bed but weren't sure exactly how to voice your desire, especially when he followed so closely behind you. Pulling back the sheets you slid under the cool covers, and yet again Toshinori somehow found a way to leave you with no space.

After turning off the bedside lamp his long limbs quickly ensnared you, pulling you close and tucking you into his embrace. He was warm, but not unpleasantly hot.

Just for tonight. You'd give him this just for tonight. You were also beyond exhausted, your limbs heavy as you sunk into his ridiculously comfortable mattress. Your mind, which had been drifting off ever since the bath, finally dipped into unconsciousness. Your soft breathing filled the air as Toshinori watched you finally succumb to slumber. Smiling softly he lovingly stroked your cheek, planting a kiss to your forehead before giving in himself.

-----

Waking with a jolt you were thrown off by limbs harshly clutching your body. It took you a moment to remember that you weren't in your own bedroom, meaning Toshinori was currently holding you like his life depended on it.

The room was pitch black so you had no idea what time it was, but figured it was still way to early to be awake. His grip on your body was borderline painful causing you to groan out in sleepy annoyance.

"Toshinori, damnit, wake up. You're squeezing me too tight," you grumbled, wiggling a bit to try and jostle him awake. He was murmuring in his sleep, deep voice grumbling against you with the way he had you pressed against his chest.

"D-don't go... no no. I am here... please."

His body was trembling, caught in a nightmare that you couldn't see.

You raised your voice a bit, trying harder to wake him up but he still wouldn't release his grip on you. Only when you accidentally elbowed him did he finally react to you.

With a harsh gasp he threw himself on top of you, pushing you into the mattress. His blue eyes were a wild blaze, messy blond hair framing his angular face. His long bangs were plastered to his forehead from sweat, lungs heaving to swallow air.

"Y/N?"

He looked so lost, eyes clouded with tears as his brain finally registered he was no longer trapped in his own personal hell. Groaning out in discomfort he lowered his body on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arms around you, trying to ground himself.

"Ah, I'm- I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up... fuck." Moving down he rested his head against your chest, as if he needed to hear your heart beating beneath him in order to assure himself you were really here.

All you could find it in yourself to do was sigh in exhaustion, body going limp as you relaxed beneath him. It was a good thing he was in his smaller form, since he wasn't attempting to keep any of his weight off of you. You closed your eyes, not quite ready to ask him what his nightmare had been about.

He sniffled softly into your chest, arms unwinding from your waist to gently rub against your exposed flesh. His shirt had drifted up your body, leaving your stomach and lower half exposed.

"May I, may I touch you please?"

"You already are..."

"Oh, uh- yeah it would seem I am. Could I touch you, um down here?" His hand trailed down, knuckles softly brushing against your bare thighs.

You cracked your eyes open to look down at him, his own glowing orbs pleading up to you.

"Toshinori can we just go back to sleep? Please?"

Biting his bottom lip his hand continued to drift closer to your naked core, eyes averting from your own as he thought about what he was going to do next.

"I know I'm not around as much as Hizashi and Shouta but gosh I just- I need to feel you right now. The way they talk about you, how perfect you feel, I need you."

"I-I'd rather we just sleep, Hizashi is still mad at me an-"

Toshinori slid up your body, silencing your protests with a kiss. His hand slid up all the way, using his own thigh as leverage to keep you from closing yours.

His tongue delved into your mouth, fingers finally meeting your outer folds. You struggled beneath him, breaking the kiss.

"Toshinori please, I just want to sleep." In reality you were scared. You had seen his length before, and you'd be a liar if you said it didn't intimidate you. That coupled with the fact that tonight had been going semi-well with the pro, him finally having his share of you would cement your fate in this house even further. His fingers had paused, body still as he took you in below him.

"You don't have to do a thing then princess, I'll take care of everything. Just lay back and relax I promise I'll make you feel good."

"To-Toshinori please, I just want to sleep," you looked deep into his eyes as you pleaded with him, hoping somehow you could find the part of him that knew this was wrong. He gave you a sad smile, his eyes still a bit glassy from his nightmare.

"Just think of this as the last of your punishment then. I still don't think you realize just how terrified I was when I came home to an empty house."

You shook your head, sniffling a bit as tears formed. You tried to push him off but he merely took one large hand and easily secured both of your wrists above your head. His other hand resumed ever so gently teasing you, working on getting you aroused.

"Just lay back and relax alright, then we can go back to sleep. I just-I just need to feel you right now. Need to make sure you're really here."

You worked your bottom lip with you teeth, eyes closed so you no longer had to look at him. His thumb trailed up to press light circles against your clit while his middle finger began to delve a bit deeper, teasing your sore hole. Your body had gone slack, tired of the fact that this was just another situation in which your powerlessness was painfully on display. You didn't have it in you mentally to put up a fight.

Toshinori moved his slim hips until his clothed cock was pressed against your right thigh, rutting against you while he worked you open. He gave a gentle peck to your forehead before trailing kisses down your face to your mouth. He captured your lips with his own, freeing your bottom lip from your teeth and moaning into your unwilling mouth.

You didn't work with him, not giving him the satisfaction of your consent, but he wasn't deterred. He simply moved down, back arching as he made his way to your chest. His erection left your thigh as he finally settled on his stomach between your legs, allowing him to comfortably take your right nipple into his hot mouth.

He nipped at the sensitive bud, long finger pushing into you at the same time while he continued to work your clit. His movements were slow as he savored every moment, sleepy mind basking in the warmth of your body.

You tried to drift back to sleep, thinking that perhaps in the emptiness of unconsciousness you could avoid your punishment, but Toshinori was surprisingly very skilled when it came to manipulating your body. You shuddered beneath him when he gave a particularly hard suck to your breast, his lean digit rubbing against the spongy spot on your inner walls that had you clamping down on him in return.

His pace was torture, just on the cusp of bringing you satisfaction, but he seemed plenty content with dragging this out. You wiggled below him in annoyance, attempting to grind down against his hand in anger and desperation. If he was going to force himself on you then the least he could do was not torment you about it.

With a soft sigh Toshinori released your nipple from his mouth, a small trail of spit connected to his lips. Opening your eyes you glared down at him, while his eyelids were hooded in an amorous gaze.

"Tell me what you need me to do for you princess."

"Let me sleep."

Toshinori gave a sleepy chuckle before peppering your chest with lazy kisses.

"You're more than welcome to try."

Resting his head against your chest he continued to pump his finger excruciatingly slow, easily pushing all the way in to his knuckle, thanks to how wet you had become, before dragging out with a languid come hither motion against your sensitive walls.

You could feel your heart accelerate as he lazily stroked pleasure into your slack body. The way in which you velvety walls clamped down on him far too telling of his skill. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn't so damn good at this. In some sick and twisted way though, his loving movements quelled the rage inside you.

Did you want this? Tears slipped down your face as you realized that some fucked up part of you just might. Toshinori hummed softly into your flesh while he lazily worked you closer to your climax, the endorphins flooding your brain working to wash away your inner turmoil. His thumb rubbed gentle circles on your clit while he nipped and sucked on whatever flesh he could reach.

Once he realized you were close to finishing he simply added another finger, stretching and wiggling the two digits to help open you up. You moaned softly at the intrusion, hips bucking as you gave in to him. It didn't take him much longer to finally push you over the edge, but he didn't stop like you had hoped. Adding a third digit you inhaled sharply at the burning sensation, stretched walls still spasming from your orgasm.

"I'll make sure you're ready, don't worry about a thing. Just a little bit more, you're tight but I'll fit."

"It- you won't fit, please you know you won't."

As if to prove you wrong he pushed a bit harder then you were prepared for, burying three of his fingers knuckle deep and forcing a pained whine from your throat. He began to move, getting on his knees and arching his body over your own while continuing to stroke your now sensitive and stinging cunt.

"As I said earlier, just think of this as the ending to your punishment."

"But Hizashi hasn't-" Toshinori cut you off with a pointed look.

"That's not my fault now is it?" You cringed away from him, his cold tone from earlier in the night caused your chest to tighten in fear.

He sighed lowly at your frightened expression, before giving you a small smile and another gentle peck to your forehead.

"Just lay back and relax alright?" He gave your captured wrists a light squeeze as he spoke, large frame hovering over you as he continued to scissor his fingers inside you. The burning sensation from being stretched out began to subside as the familiar warmth of pleasure took hold of you once more.

"There we go, just like that. The more you relax the easier this will be I promise."

Finally pulling his devilish hand away from your soaked pussy he made quick work of shimmying out of his underwear, long cock springing free. The tip was red with a good bit of pre-cum dripping down his intimidating length, some getting lost in his neatly trimmed curly blond pubic hair.

You had flashbacks to the first time you saw it, a bit relieved that in his smaller form he lost a bit of girth. But holy shit if this 7 foot 2 inch giant of a man wasn't packing heat.

Heat flushed Toshinori's face as he watched you take him in. He knew his size could be a bit alarming, which is why he was well versed in the art of foreplay.

Bringing himself down on top of you he lined his tip up with your entrance, free hand helping to guide himself in. You could feel him, gently rubbing himself on your outer lips to gather your slick. His raspy breaths ghosted across the hot expanse of your face, while he closed his eyes, letting out a low groan as he began to push in.

"Sh-shit yes, just like that, ah fuck it'll be a tight fit."

You whined as he began to work on sinking into you, his hand leaving his cock in favor of gently wrapping around your throat.

Despite his best efforts his fingers hadn't been enough preparation when compared to his cock. Gasping in pain you thrashed beneath him. He shushed you gently, fingers stroking your throat delicately as he speared you open. Little by little he rocked his hips into you, holding you down while you cried out in pain.

"So good, you're doing so good. The worst is over okay princess hold out for me."

You hardly knew what he meant by worst part when it felt like he was never going to bottom out. He brought his face down beside yours, huffing and groaning into your ear until finally he was flush with you, cock buried to the hilt. You were breathing hard, small whines and whimpers slipping past your lips at how he stretched you.

"Oh shit. You- you're fucking perfect."

"Too much, it's too much plea-" much to your frustration his mouth met your own again in order to cut off your protests. He pressed your head into the pillow to try and prevent you from pulling away from him again, hungrily following your escape attempts. The hand he had around your throat receded, only to snake its way between the two of you so he could continue teasing your sensitive clit.

His hips began to move again, assuming he had given you plenty of time to adjust based off the way your pussy clenched around him as if begging for more.

He starting off with the same tempo he had been doing for the majority of the night, so slow it was as if he was teasing you. But as the burning sensation in your poor cunt eased you realized he was doing it for your benefit. He wanted you to enjoy this, needed you to find pleasure and comfort in him. After all this was your first time with him, he wanted to make sure you weren't afraid when he came back for more.

As your whimpers subsided, replaced with hushed moans, only then did Toshinori begin to pick up the pace. Finally he released your mouth from his kiss, both of you gasping for air. He showered you with praise as he fucked into you, deep gravely voice never letting you forget just how much he cared for you.

For your part all you could do was submit to him, letting his deft finger and cock bring you back to the brink of orgasm. Your warm walls fluttered around him as he took you closer and closer, the resounding slap of flesh on flesh filling the room as he lost himself in his own pleasure. He was grounded only long enough to see you through, but as soon as you began to convulse around him, hips bucking and pretty mouth moaning obscenely, his mind blanked out.

He abandoned your clit, hand coming up to join the other and thread his fingers through your own. He hammered into you, painfully drawing out your orgasm as he chased his own climax. The juxtapose of him lovingly holding your hands to his feral thrusts was giving you mental whiplash.

"Yes, yes fuck. So good for me, don't ever leave me again. Shit - fuck I can't lose anyone else."

His thrusts were erratic, your whole body forced to move against his. You had assumed he would cum in you, just as Hizashi and Shouta had already done, but right before he finished he pulled out quickly. Pressing the head of his cock into your skin, hot thick surges of cum covered your stomach. The excess quickly began to drip down the side of your body, mingling with your sweat on the sheets below.

Coming down from his high, his hands were still intertwined with your own, skinny body heaving from exertion. For your part your heart rate had mostly settled after your second orgasm, leaving you effectively spent under him.

You had managed to keep your eyes closed while he had fucked you, only now opening them to find him observing you fondly. Releasing his hold on you he leaned over to his bedside table and grabbed a spare handkerchief, using it to wipe off his cooling cum.

Only when he deemed you properly spotless did he toss the cloth to the floor and flop down in the bed beside you. Drawing your weary body against him he folded around you, capturing you once more in his unrelenting grip.

"I know you haven't been here very long, but I can't help but love you so much it hurts. I'll be good to you if you're good to me okay?"

A meager "m-kay" was all you had it in you to respond with, but it was all the man wanted to hear. With a satisfied hum Toshinori pecked your forehead with one last kiss before you both succumbed to sleep.

#tw: noncon #yandere toshinori yagi #yandere all might #yandere x reader #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia

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kaunis-sielu · 3 years ago

Text

Fire Dogs: 3

When you get home Sam is asleep on the couch and Cooper is waiting at the door.

“Sam,” Steve says and Sam wakes with a start, alert and ready to go, “Go to bed. We got her.” Sam shakes his head then stands and stretches.

“You alright Fawn?”

“I will be, just a bit bruised.” You give him a small smile and he returns it then heads upstairs.

“Glad you’re okay.” He says before he disappears down the hallway.

“Thanks Sam!” You call then Steve’s hand brushes the back of your arm.

“Let’s get a look at your ribs and shoulder.” He suggests you can feel the flicker of an Alpha command but it’s like he’s aware of it so he makes sure he makes it a suggestion.

“You don’t want to shower first?”

“Not really if that’s alright with you. I’d rather make sure you’re okay.”

“Alright, what first?”

“Ribs. Cuz Buck didn’t check.” You sigh softly before taking the edge of your shirt in your hands. You take a deep breath, do your best to hide the wince, then lift the shirt to just under your bra. Steve lets out a low whistle, “Oh Honey.” He breathes and you can’t help but notice that’s the second time he’s called you that. “That’s gotta hurt. I’m gonna put some pressure on a few different places okay? I want you to give me a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how bad it hurts.”

“Okay.” He gently feels your ribs, the highest he gets on the pain scale is a six.

“I’m fairly confident none are broken but if the pain escalates you let one of us know immediately okay?”

“I will.”

“Good girl,” he mutters before reaching for the blanket you keep on the couch, “Shoulder now, it’ll probably be easier to take your shirt off and wrap yourself in the blanket.” He turns away and you go to peel yourself out of your shirt but it hurts like hell to try and get it off.

“Steve I can’t.” You grumble finally admitting defeat.

“Can’t?”

“I can’t get my shirt off without hurting myself. I need help.”

“Oh, okay.” He turns around and helps ease you out of your tee shirt, thankfully it’s not terribly painful but it is a little awkward to be standing in front of him in just your bra and shorts. “Blanket?” He offers you your blanket again.

“Thanks.” He nods, when you wince again as you attempt to wrap the blanket around you he frowns slightly. Again Steve takes the blanket from your hands and wraps it around you. He’s so close to you that you can smell the smoke on him stronger than his scent.

“Ready?”

“I guess. Same pain scale?” He nods then gently starts to touch around your already bruising shoulder. He gets a seven and a half on this one, right where the branch had hit you.

“How does the head feel?”

“I mean I have a headache, and I’m pretty sure I was unconscious for a while but for having a branch fall on me I’m doing alright.”

“I would really like it if you went to the ER.” He says gently, “You want help getting your shirt back on?”

“No, I’m just going to put on my pajamas and ice my shoulder.”

“You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

“Do you honestly think that I need to? Bucky said I didn’t have a concussion. He said I was fine.”

“You went unconscious though. Something you failed to mention.” He frowns down at you, you smile sweetly up at him.

“I’m pretty sure I did.”

“Fawn.” Steve groans dropping his head back in frustration. You bite your lip, you really just, you don’t want to go. His eyes meet yours again and after he searches your face for a second his face softens. “What is it that you’re not telling me?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You lie as you turn to go upstairs but a sudden gentle tug on the back of your blanket pulls you to a stop.

“Honey, I can practically taste the anxiety on you.” He says softly, “are you scared?” You shake your head no, “is it the cost?” Again a no, “Please, let me help?” He soothes, his scent rolls over you and you can feel yourself relaxing.

“I’m,” you drop your head, “it’s my ex. He runs the ER and even if he isn’t there he usually shows up while I’m there.” You admit softly.

“You don’t have to go alone, I’ll stay with you.”

“They’ll ask you to leave. My friend Scott tried that when I broke my wrist.”

“The only one who will get me to leave is you. I promise.”

“Fine,” you relent, “Can you help me get my shirt back on?”

Steve helps you get your shirt back on then you convince him to take a shower. You can wait, you ice your shoulder while he’s in the shower. He comes down in a pair of jeans, a blue plaid shirt that’s rolled up to the elbows and a pair of black boots. Good lord he’s handsome, you grab your purse and Cooper’s leash then follow Steve out the door. Cooper hops in the back and you buckle him in then go to the front seat. When you pull up to the hospital Cooper shoves his head under your arm and you absentmindedly pet him.

“You ready Honey?” You like this new nickname he’s got for you. “Let me know if I can help soothe you okay?” You nod then take a deep breath and pop open your door. You take Cooper out of the back of then meet Steve at the back of the car. When you pause again Steve offers you his hand, when you look up at him he’s got that soft smile on his face again. You take the hand that he offers then head inside, his thumb brushes against your pulse point a couple times and you slow your breathing. It’s not until you’re in a room that you actually start to relax a little bit, but it’s not enough and Coop notices placing his head in your lap.

There’s a tap on your door and before you can say anything the door swings open,

“Well, well, well what did we do this time Grey?” His scent rolls into the room with him, it’s stale and causes your nose to wrinkle.

“She prefers Fawn.” Steve growls and Grant actually looks surprised.

“Who are you?” He asks puffing up his chest at the sight of a new Alpha.

“Captain Steve Rogers.”

“Oh, a firefighter. Thought you liked your men with a bit more brains then a firefighter. I’ll need you to step out Mr. Rogers.”

“No.” Steve says from where he’s leaning coolly against the wall. Cooper licks your fingers.

“Then at least be useful and get that dog out of my way.” Grant sneers taking a step toward you and Steve pops off of the wall,

“Fawn, do you want him to be your doctor?”

“No.”

“You heard the lady. She wants a different doctor. Get out.”

“You might think that you’re some big bad firefighter dude but you don’t get to boss me around.” Grant says standing to his full height, “I’m starting to think that my patient isn’t safe with you around.” Grant sneers and Cooper growls lowly, placing himself between you and Grant, something Steve absolutely notices.

“She’s not the one in danger from me.” You can feel the rage building between the two Alphas and Grant glares at him. “Unless Fawn says otherwise, both the dog and I are staying where we’re at.”

“You don’t get to threaten me in my own hospital.” Grant huffs, “Get. Out.” He punctuates each word with the jab of his finger into Steve’s chest. Steve sighs and when Grant goes to poke him again Steve catches his arm and twists it behind Grant’s back. “This is assault! Security!” He yells and Steve growls lowly.

“Technically you laid hands on me first so this is self-defense. Now, I’m going to politely ask you to get the fuck out and get Fawn another doctor. I’m also going to tell you that if you decide to try and make trouble for me or Fawn one of my best friends is Virginia Potts, New York Attorney General. She really likes knocking bullying Alphas off their pedestal, and the last doctor that went up against her lost his practice license and I think is still serving jail time.” You stare at Steve in amazement, he’s calm, but you can feel the Alpha rolling off of him and still has a firm grasp on Grant. He mutters something quietly to Grant that you can’t hear then Grant looks almost dazed, like Steve had just Alpha commanded him and he didn’t know what to do. Two security guards show up and thankfully one is someone who will actually believe you over Grant.

“Phil!” You breathe in relief.

“Fawn, what is going on here?”

“This is Steve, he’s one of the firefighters staying with me. Grant wouldn’t leave and let me have a different doctor even though I asked for a new one then he poked Steve in the chest and threatened him.”

“I did not! Get this fucker off me!” Grant snaps glaring over at you. “You’re a lying bitch of an Omega Grey.”

“I’m sorry, did I not make it clear you weren’t to call her that anymore?” Steve growls putting pressure on the arm he has behind Grant’s back. “Apologize.”

“Sorry.” Grant spits out and he almost looks surprised that he’s done it. It’s great to see him being bossed around like he used to do to you.

“Continue Fawn.” Phil says calmly, as he eyes the two Alphas in front of him.

“I asked Steve to stay, no matter what, and Grant told him to leave that’s when he poked Steve and threatened him after Steve defended himself.”

“Sir, please let go of Dr. Ward.” Phil says sounding bored, his partner a young woman, seems to be enjoying the drama. Steve let’s go of Grant who turns on Steve and takes a swing at him. One that Steve must have anticipated because he just takes a half step back and the hit goes wide. Both Phil and his partner grab Grant before he can try again and usher him out of your room. “I’ll send in May.” Phil says as they practically drag Grant away.

“Thank you.” You say quietly then Steve gently closes the door.

“I see now why you were so hesitant about coming.” Steve says before sitting down next to you in the second chair, he offers you a hand again and you take it, Coop’s head is back in your lap. “He was abusive wasn’t he?” No one has ever just straight up asked you that.

“Not physically,” you admit, “he’s the one that started the whole Grey nickname and all his friends just kinda ran with it.”

“Abuse isn’t just physical Honey. He Alpha commanded you a lot didn’t he?” You nod slowly before saying,

“I know abuse isn’t always physical. It’s just harder to admit when it’s not physical. People would say I was so lucky to be dating him, this hot, young, Alpha doctor. But no one could see what he was doing to my spirit. Nothing I ever did was good enough. My career was a hobby, I should be a nurse so we could work together. I spent too much time on my books. I spent too much time training and doing therapy with Cooper. Anything that took my attention away from him. He wanted a good little Omega who stayed home and served him. He wanted to mark me but I just couldn’t let him.”

“How did you get away?”

“Cooper actually.” You give the dog a couple of chin scratches, “He told me I had to choose, my dog or him and the choice was easy. People said I was stupid but I was just glad to be rid of him, as much as I could be in a town this size.”

“I’m proud of you.” You look at him in surprise, most people tell you that they’re sorry, “you got out and you’ve stayed out.” There’s a soft tap on the doorframe and after a moment Dr. May walks into your room.

“Hey, so what brings you in today?”

“Branch fell on me and knocked me unconscious. I got the okay from Bucky to go home but Steve wants to make sure I’m good.”

“I don’t think any of her ribs are broken but I’d like to be sure before anything happens. Our EMT cleared her for concussion but the fact that she went unconscious is concerning.”

“Ah, so that’s who Bucky is.” You nod, “I’m seeing some shoulder favoritism too?”

“Yea, it hit my shoulder first.”

“Okay, let’s get your shirt off so I can take a look, if you want Captain Rogers to leave I can help you.”

“He’s already seen it.” You tell her and he helps ease you out of your shirt again.

Melinda ends up ordering some x-rays for you. The only time Steve leaves your side is when she walks you to the x-ray room. She takes the time to make sure you feel safe.

“Honestly, he makes me feel so safe, I wouldn’t have come without him. Did Phil tell you what happened?”

“Yea,” she tells you with a smirk, “I wish he would’ve decked him.” You chuckle softly, “he’s crazy about you.”

“Who?” Oh god please don’t say Grant.

“Captain Rogers.”

“He’s also an Alpha, you know how I feel about Alphas.”

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

Saturnine. Yan Chrollo x Reader [SMUT]

Tags/warnings: Dubcon, oral sex, creampie, my brain melting, condescending ???, Chrollo always has smth to say Word count: 2.2k. Note: it is finally done .

When gazing into the mirror, it should be easy to recognize the reflection staring back as your own. It’s the sight you’ve seen your entire life. Maybe the light in your eyes is less noticeable and your smiles no longer appear genuine, but in the end, it still physically bears your image.

You shiver at the chilly air kissing your bare skin, goosebumps erupting at the lack of clothing. Thin fabric clings tightly around your body, sheer and intricate in its lace design, yet astonishingly soft to the touch. It accentuates the swell of your chest, the black as midnight fabric stopping just shy above your midriff. A matching thong connects to sheer thigh highs through a garter belt to complete the set. Never in your life can you recall wearing such a lascivious outfit. Nor did you think you’d ever wear one for him.

Covering your exposed cleavage with your arms, you lower your head, fingernails pressing so harshly against your skin that it hurts. The pain serves to ground you in reality, proof that this is happening and not a dream.

“Did I… do this right?” You murmur, not used to how Chrollo is wordlessly assessing your trembling figure. Normally the air is full of conversation, equal parts rigid and provocative, a verbal game you’ve been forced to navigate. You still prefer the mind games over this maddening silence. You’re convinced he can hear the way your heart pounds viciously as if it was attempting to free itself from your body altogether, the current stress it’s under too much to withstand.

Chrollo moves a step closer and you take a deep, shaky breath. Grey eyes rake over your body, like a predator monitoring its prey, inspecting every inch of you. He spreads his fingers against your stomach, coarse fingers gliding over your skin, gradually moving upwards.

“Mm. You did perfectly.” His voice is rich and husky against your ear, spoken lowly so that only you may hear it. When his fingers reach their intended target, he cups your chest and lays his head on your shoulder. You watch his actions in the reflection of the mirror, glossy lips parting but no words managing to form on your tongue. Emotions swirl within you like an unrelenting vortex. Repulsion. Frustration. Shame. That it came to this, lowering yourself to a level you never wanted to be reduced to.

While you ruminate in your misery, Chrollo presses featherlight kisses from the crook of your neck to your jaw. His lips are soft and well taken care of, curling into a smile at how your pulse quickens. There are numerous mysterious surrounding Chrollo, but you do not doubt that he’s enjoying himself now. Your attention is brought back to his hands on your chest and how he kneads them. A blush ignites when you feel something hard press brush your ass, already guessing what it is.

“S-so you’re going to,” you struggle to get out, releasing a gasp when he suddenly pinches your nipple, “Keep… keep your promise, right?”

The clarification is for your peace of mind. An internal justification is necessary to continue with this illicit act, doubts plaguing your mind. You feel his chest rumble against your back, a deep chuckle leaving him. Regret comes swiftly, knowing that anytime you speak to Chrollo his responses sting deep, piercing your skin and festering.

One of his hands comes to your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. The proximity has your eyes wide as a doe, his warm breath fanning against your face, dark tresses of hair tickling your face. His grip is tight but not painful. A not so subtle reminder of the Phantom Troupe leader’s innate strength, that goes beyond any measurement your mind could conjure up. Your squeeze your eyes shut when he leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of your lips.

“What if I don’t?” Chrollo’s question has you frowning, eyelids fluttering open so you can shoot him a glare. He stares back unfazed, amusement visible from his closed mouth smile and relaxed posture, clearly not feeling intimidated by your little show. You decide to give it some thought, knowing he’ll scrutinize your response if not chosen carefully. Though, it’s admittedly difficult to concentrate when your face is burning up and his hand is still groping your chest.

Swallowing thickly, you arrive at a half-decent comeback. “I’ll… I’ll hate you.”

It sounded far better in your head.

Chrollo raises an eyebrow at your rebuttal but decides to entertain it. “Don’t you already?”

“I’ll hate you even more,” comes your reply, stumbling out before you could think it over. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he doesn’t take visible offense. Instead, the bastard laughs again. Affectionately, Chrollo brushes his knuckles over your cheek, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Even more, huh,” he hums, your nonsensical ramblings sounding worse when repeated back. “If that’s the threat I’m contending with, then I’ll be sure to stick to my word.”

You’re not exactly reassured by this, but decide to leave it for now. Suddenly, Chrollo steps back, freeing you from his grip. Before you can ask about what he’s doing, his hands start loosening his belt. Ah. So the time for negotiating is over. His dress pants fall, revealing a prominent bulge pushing against his briefs.

“Now get on your knees for me.”

It wasn’t a request. You do as he says, hyper-aware of how he’s staring at you, the tile from your shared master bedroom cold against your shins. To save what little modesty you have remaining, you readjust your bra so your chest no longer threatens to spill out. Heartbeat picking up in pace, you lift a shaky hand, palming his crotch through the fabric.

The muscles in his thighs tighten, yet every other aspect of him remains thoroughly composed. Playing with the waistband, you slowly pull it down, revealing Chrollo’s half-hard member. It’s long, around six inches when erect, with a prominent vein that you’ve learned is rather sensitive. Precum is already leaking from the head, a sight that worsens the blush on your face.

Chrollo runs his hands through your hair, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. You pick up on the unspoken encouragement to not keep him waiting. Readjusting yourself into a more comfortable position, you take his dick fully into your hands, giving it a tentative stroke to test the waters. No verbal response. He’s excellent at maintaining his composure, creepy as it may be. Pumping his cock from the base, you bow your head down, eyelids fluttering shut as you kiss and lick the tip. That earns you a sharp inhale and a tightened grip but nothing else. Wetting your lips with your tongue, you continue licking the tip while jerking him off, noting that his cum has a slight salty taste to it.

Now that your confidence has somewhat been built up, you part your lips to take more of him in, getting adjusted to his size. Chrollo lets out a shaky exhale, fingers curling deeper into your hair. It’s difficult to get into a solid rhythm as your anxiety is unrelenting. Being so vulnerable in front of a person whose hands, which are now intertwined with your hair, have slaughtered countless people.

He could do the same to you at any time, you think, despite his insistence for not wanting to. Hollowing out your cheeks, you manage to take more of him in, stopping just shy as not to activate your gag reflex. It makes your stomach churn when he lovingly strokes your cheek, looking down at you with eyes glazed over with crazed lust. Of course, he wouldn’t make this easy on you and act different — he continues with the delusion that this is love.

“Eager, now are we?” Chrollo laughs breathlessly. You decide to ignore the comment, too focused on having him finish so you can move on with your night. The low groans and whispers of your name are starting to affect you, a factor that only adds to your shame.. Pangs of heat are building up in between your legs, which you subconsciously rub together in a feeble attempt to relieve yourself. Chrollo quietly groans, content at the sight, dick twitching in your mouth. You wish he hadn’t noticed just how turned on you’re growing — not that you’re surprised with how unfairly observant he is — fully prepared for more scathing comments.

“I’m glad you stopped being so stubborn,” he pushes himself deeper into your mouth, gripping your head tightly enough not to let you move away, “So I can finally have my way with you.”

You wince at how he forces his dick down your throat, tears stinging the corners of your eyes and lungs screaming for air. Chrollo drinks in the sight, shuddering, bucking his hips, and pulling your face as tight against him as he can. You figure his release is getting closer from how erratic his movements are growing. At least it’ll be over soon. This line of thought is interrupted as he pulls away, saliva and cum connecting your mouth to his dick in a thin line, which has you frowning. Relishing the opportunity to regain yourself, your lungs greedily gulp in air, and you cough from his previous actions.

Chrollo extends a hand out to you which you hesitantly accept. The more human side is starting to show, his skin sheening with sweat, bare chest heaving for air much like yours, and black tresses sticking to the sides of his face. Your lips part, intending to ask why he stopped. He places both his just hands below your ass, hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing. Yelping, you struggle and cling to him as not to fall, eyes wide with confusion.

“W-what—”

“Wrap your legs around me,” he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead and you do as he says, scared that you’ll fall otherwise. “Mm. Good girl.”

Chrollo carries you over to the wall, your back pressing against the hard surface and feeling its coolness on your bare skin. After thinking about it for a moment, you understand what it is he intends to do next, tightening your grip around him. He positions the head of his cock against your opening, smiling at how wet you are. At least he’s too focused to comment on your current state. You look to the side, not wanting to see the pleased expression you know is on his face.

“I’ll take care of you after,” Chrollo promises, slowly pushing himself inside you. You take a deep breath, gripping his shoulders tightly, fingernails digging into his skin. At least he’s allowing you to adjust. You yelp when he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging it so that you look him dead in the eye. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hm?”

A half-choked out moan leaves your lips as he fills you, feeling his sizeable length stretching you out.

“Y-yes,” You pant, carnal desire outweighing any solid reasoning at the moment. Chrollo continues to pound relentlessly into your cunt, burying his face in your neck. He’s coming undone, fucking you with a strength that has you breathless. You catch occasional guttural groans of your name and don’t want to admit how nice it sounds.

“I always knew you’d come around.”

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, mixed in with his grunts and your moans. Squeezing your ass, his thrusts grow erratic, before he finally stills. Chrollo releases deep inside you, pulling you down onto him, hot ropes of cum filling you and seeping out.

He grits his teeth, shuddering at his release. All is still for a moment aside from your heavy chests. Chrollo gathers himself before you do, slowly pulling himself out. You feel his cum as it drips out of you and bite your lip at the possible implications. Everything is so warm and your body feels terribly sore, having to clutch onto him for stability when he puts you back down. Chrollo doesn’t seem to mind this, laughing as he runs his hands through your mousled hair.

“How precious.”

You yelp when he picks you up, bridal style this time, your face pressing against his chest.

“It looks like you needed some help there, dear.” Chrollo hums, placing you down onto the bed with a gentleness you weren’t used to. There’s no way any normal human could be this collected already. Taking deep breaths, you attempt to calm yourself, not wanting to be completely undone before him. Chrollo watches with intrigue while you do so, his eyes piercing through your trembling body. When you finally manage to get your breathing steady, he gently pushes your shoulders down and spreads your legs.

“Now, about that promise of mine,” he presses open-mouthed kisses from your ankle to your thighs, “I intend to keep it. We’ll keep going until you’re no longer able to stand.”

#chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer imagine #chrollo #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #yandere x reader #not sfw #tw: dubcon #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagine #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #my stuff

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crushed-like-an-ant · 3 years ago

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how to calm down an angry billionaire

Step 1. Deflect.

Peter was good at deflection. Always had been. It was a skill he'd picked up after people constantly tried to ask him about his feelings after his parents died, then again when Ben died. Any questions he didn't want to answer quickly turned into an animated conversation about whatever his mind thought of first (there had been that awkward time he'd asked a fellow orphan how their parents were), an apology and fast excuse to get the hell out of there (mostly worked except when he was panicking and the best he could come up with was a cheese making competition, that had caused a lot of questions Peter would rather never deal with again), or just flat out running away (sometimes he ran into poles or walls which was always a bit embarrassing given he was literally Spider-man). Sometimes Peter had to use all three options. So Peter knew when Tony finally decided to have the dreaded conversation about the whole not-my-first-time-holding-up-a-building thing, he would be able to deflect it. Or so he thought. Turns out, Peter had drastically underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Tony Stark.

It was a lab day, around three weeks after the incident where Peter and Tony had been stuck under a building and Peter stupidly let slip that he’d held up a building before. Peter had thought Tony had forgotten about his words. He was comfortable, tentatively confident and optimistic that it wouldn't be brought up again. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"Hey kid?" Tony said, cutting the comfortable silence between them as they worked, tone slightly hesitant. Peter should've picked up on it. He should've realised. But he'd grown complacent. So Peter ignored the dread pooling in his stomach and lifted his head from the mess of wires in front of him to look at Tony.

"Mr Stark?" he replied with a smile that Tony didn't return. Nor did he try to tell Peter to call him Tony. And that was how Peter knew something was wrong. Nerves skittered down his spine, clod fingers of dread snaking around his neck as nervous energy filled him and he began to tap on the desk. Anything to distract himself from the sorrow and worry shining in his mentor's brown eyes.

"Look kid, uh, I," Tony fumbled for words. Shit. This was bad. If Tony Stark was struggling to say something, you knew it was serious. Peter just stared at him in silence,unsure of what to say, anxiety coursing through his veins at the grimace that clouded Tony's features. What could possibly have gotten him into this mood? Had Peter done something wrong? Was he gonna, oh god, was he gonna take the suit? "Pete, I need to know what you meant when we were under the building," Tony finally managed to say, Peter relaxing. Oh. That was all?

"I just meant that I'd lifted a lot of heavy things," Peter half-lied, looking Tony straight in the eyes and lying to his face, mindful to make sure his tells were carefully under control. Training with Daredevil - despite Tony's misgivings about Double D - had been one of the best decisions Peter had ever made. He felt a twinge of guilt as he lied to Tony but it's not like he could tell the truth. And he wasn't really lying. Just withholding the entire truth. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Anyways, you reckon you can help me with this? I'm stuck. My mind kinda decided to go and die on me." Peter chuckled quietly. Tony wasn't laughing.

"I want to believe you, kid," Tony told him, "I really do. But I can't. You had a panic attack under there. What aren't you telling me Peter? Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. And I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything until you're ready but I-I just-I need to know what happened. I need to know what you meant." Peter's resolve almost broke as Tony's voice broke. No. He couldn't tell Tony. Not only would Tony think he was weak, but Peter knew that Mr Stark would blame himself because he took the suit. Peter couldn't let him do that. Option one had failed him, so it was onto option 2. Make a quick exit without raising any suspicions. Yeah, he didn't think that was gonna work. Worth a shot though.

"Hey, Mr Stark," Peter said after checking his watch and pretending to look shocked at the time, "I'm really sorry but I have to go. I promised Ned we'd work on our Bio project tonight and I'm already seven minutes late." Mr Stark raised an eyebrow and pulled up a picture of Ned on his holiday in California.

"Nice try kid," Tony replied drily. Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. Time for option three then.

"I-I don't really know how to tell you, uh," Peter deliberately stuttered, guilt eating him up inside as he put on an act for Tony. For option three to work, Peter had to catch Tony off guard otherwise he'd react too quickly and lock the tower down. His act work, Tony's features softening and body relaxing.

"It's okay, bambino, take your time." And if that didn't make him feel like a horrible person, nothing would. Peter stood and padded over to some machinery near the exit, pretending to be trying to busy himself as he worked himself up to answering Tony when he was actually getting closer to the door.

"I, uh," Peter stumbled. Tony was now far away enough that Peter could easily run without being grabbed and stopped. The door was right there. Peter took his opportunity. He ran. Out the door, down the hallway, flying to the elevator. Pressing the button frantically, Peter groaned when nothing happened. Great. Tony had stopped the elevators. Sighing, Peter pulled the mask from his pocket and pulled it over his head, sprinting at the window. Peter burst through the window in a shower of glass, activating his web shooters as he fell, quickly shooting a web and catching himself. And he was swinging, swinging, swinging. Allowing himself to smile at his escape, Peter was unprepared when he was grabbed from behind by two cold metal hands. Thanks for nothing spidey sense. Tony flew a sulking Peter back through the broken window and into one of the meeting rooms, setting him down firmly in a seat. Peter crossed his arms, pouting as he pulled off his mask, Tony's Iron Man suit unfolding around him and the man stepping out, an unimpressed look painted across his features.

"You done deflecting yet?" Tony asked, a single eyebrow raised. Damn. Peter wished he could do that. Alas, no amount of practising in front of a mirror had ever given him the talent to lift one eyebrow and not look like a demented monkey. Time for a different strategy. Deflection had failed him. But Peter would not go down easy.

~~~

Step 2. Deny.

The unfortunate thing about this step was that Peter would always over-deny. He would deny everything or nothing. There was no in between. For example, he was once denying eating the last bit of chocolate and ended up accidentally telling May his name wasn't Peter and that he was an alien from outer space with a severe lettuce allergy. Don't ask. Peter really didn't want to relive that trauma. So although Peter always tried his best with denial, it never really worked out in his favour. Honestly, it was through sheer dumb luck that he managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from his friends and family for so long. It was probably some good karma that had been waiting for the perfect moment to help him out. It was a little late but hey, better late than never right?

"No," Peter blurted in a panic. Shock splashed across Tony's face as he folded his arms.

"Kid, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Tony told him gently.

"No," Peter exclaimed again, hurt painting the billionaire's face. "I mean, yes." Shitshitshitshitshit. Peter was an idiot. He had to deny everything - but not everything, Peter, remember the lettuce incident - so Mr Stark wouldn't find out. But Peter had always been shit at denial.

"Look, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about," Tony continued on, oblivious to Peter's internal panic, "but I won't judge you. I love you, bambino. You know that right? And I'll support you no matter what but I can't help you if you don't let me."

"No," Peter said. It was the only word he knew. Any more and he would have another lettuce incident or he'd end up rambling the truth. He couldn't do that. So his current vocabulary was limited to 'no', 'no', 'no' with a side of 'no'. Which wasn't suspicious at all. Totally.

"What the hell, kid?" Tony asked, mostly confused, slight irritation colouring his tone. Peter was hyper-aware of the thundering beat his heart was drumming to, the way Tony's slightly picked up when he said 'no', the sweat covering his body like a second skin. Tony's sigh sounded like a bomb to his sensitive ears, the sharp intake of breath before he spoke like a blaring alarm. "What did you mean when you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I didn't," Peter responded, brain not quite computing, "nothing happened." Tony's gaze narrowed. Shit. Was Tony going to take the suit if he didn't tell him? But Peter just couldn't tell him. He couldn't.

"Fucking hell Peter, just tell me dammit!" Tony exclaimed, running a hand through his messy brown hair in frustration. Peter knew - with the certainty that he knew his own name or the colour of his eyes - that denial had failed him. Time for Peter's next strategy.

~~~

Step 3. Stretch the truth.

When Peter's other strategies failed him, he turned to stretching the truth. It was simple really, just take the truth and dial it down from boiling hot to freezing cold and give it to the person on a silver platter with a charmingly innocent - and only slightly nervous - smile. Half-truths were easy to fool people with. Someone had said that the best lies were the ones based on truth. Peter couldn't remember who exactly had said that. He had never been very good with that sort of stuff, unlike MJ. So although stretching the truth was Peter's third option, he'd always been surprisingly good at it. People seemed to believe he was too innocent to be able to lie. Which was absurd because he'd spent ten years living with his Aunt and her terrible cooking and she still didn't know he hated her walnut date loaf.

"Okay," Peter conceded quietly and the rage slowly left Tony as he deflated like a balloon, looking smaller without all the fury. Peter sat down in front of Tony. "It was back in the fight with The Vulture and he threw a wall at me. I caught it and threw it back at him but he dodged it with his super awesome flying skills." Tony looked him straight in the eyes for a few seconds, Peter holding his gaze before Tony leaned forward.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony whispered, dangerously quiet, tightly compressed anger stemming from worry swimming in his brown eyes. "A wall wouldn't stay together if it was thrown, caught and thrown back. Even then, you wouldn't say it wasn't your first time while holding a building up unless you'd held up a fucking building already. And you wouldn't have a panic attack from holding up a building about something thrown at you. So stop lying to me, Peter Benjamin Parker." Damn. The full name. Peter released a heavy exhale, knowing he was beaten. He had to tell Mr Stark the truth.

"It actually was in the fight with the Vulture," Peter began, "so I wasn't lying about that. And I did have to catch a few walls." Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter's weak attempts at defending himself. "I went to his warehouse and he sent his flying suit at me. It wasn't particularly good at attacking 'cause it hadn't even touched me. I said that and Toomes told me it wasn't trying to." Tony inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, Peter trying not to listen to how Tony's hands still hit each other gently. Enhanced hearing sucked sometimes. "He had directed the suit to take out all the supports in the building." Tony gasped, expression contorted into one of such extreme guilt and sorrow that Peter wanted to shelter Tony from the world for the rest of his days because goddammit he's seen too much and been through enough and couldn't the world just give him a fucking break for once? No one deserved one more than Mr Stark did.

"I took the suit," Tony whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I took the suit. It was your only protection, damn it, and I took the fucking suit!" Tony was yelling now, self-hatred and rage dancing in his wild brown eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Mr Stark," Peter tried to tell him.

"How?" Tony scoffed, laughing bitterly, "How was this not my fault. I took the suit and you got hurt because of my mistake."

"It's okay, Mr Stark, you didn't know," Peter said.

"But I should've," Tony replied, "I should've known." Peter's features hardened, spine turning to steel. He wouldn't let Mr Stark blame himself for this. The blame was on Toomes and only on Toomes.

"Did you pilot the Vulture suit?" Peter asked firmly.

"What?"

"Did. You. Pilot. The. Vulture. Suit." Peter repeated, staring defiantly at Tony.

"No, of course not," Tony replied, slight confusion clinging to his features.

"And did you cause the building to fall?" he continued.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault," Peter told him simply.

"Kid, I shouldn't have taken the suit," Tony began, dropping his head into his hands. He opened his mouth to continue but Peter cut him off before he could say anything equally self-deprecating.

"Maybe," Peter allowed, "but then I wouldn't found out I was strong enough to get back up again. 'If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it'. You told me that. I thought the suit made Spider-man and I lost sight of what Spider-man really meant. God, I started out in a fricking onesie. That's what Spider-man represents. Not a hero with a multi-million dollar suit, but someone with nothing but their will to save others. Without you taking the suit, I never would've remembered everything Spider-man stood for.; With great power comes great responsibility. You gave me that tough love moment and I needed it. Now it's my turn to dish out some tough love for you." Peter took a deep breath. "You, Tony Stark, are being a fucking idiot. The blame of what happened in the past lies with Adrian Toomes, and Adrian Toomes alone. So stop this self-deprecating bullshit and use your fucking brain for once in your life. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Tony looked up at him, the self-hatred drained from his features, a slight smile adorning his lips which Peter returned.

"You're right, kid," Tony said, "when did you get this wise?"

"I've always been this wise, Mr Stark, I just wanted you to feel better about your lack of common sense," Peter joked, Tony chuckling.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony repeated. Peter tilted his head, confused at the strange undertone in Tony's voice only to see a fire lit in his caramel eyes. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

And it was then that he knew he fucked up.

~~~

Step 4. Try some breathing exercises.

Peter had always been shit at breathing exercise. He just didn't have the patience for them. While he was breathing, someone could be getting raped in an alley, a shop could be getting robbed, or a kid could be getting beat up. So - despite the constant reminders to just try the damn breathing exercises for the love of god - Peter had never done anything of the sort. How could he? With his enhanced senses, it was impossible to relax. Would you be able to sit there and breathe while screams rang in your ears and sobbing pounded in your mind? Naturally, this meant that Peter wasn't the most experienced when it came to said breathing exercises. Maybe he should've practised. Life always had a funny way of throwing Peter in the deep end headfirst and tied to a ten ton weight and expecting him to swim. However, he had once read in a self-help book that breathing exercises were good for calming people down, so he decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time in the last 48 hours and try it out. I mean, it was that or release an angry billionaire in a metal suit decked out with the most advanced weapons in the world (except for maybe what HYDRA had because honestly Peter knew better than to underestimate them and he mildly respected their cockroach-like survival skills) who was hell-bent on revenge and gave zero fucks into the world. The second option was beginning to sound quite tempting, Peter would be honest.

"Mr Stark, you need to calm down," Peter told the man gently, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony tilted his head up to look at Peter - rage splashed across his face, tension lining his body - before he shrugged off Peter's hand and jerked into a standing position. And the room was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, because damn had Tony always been that scary. A cloud of darkness surrounded Tony, filling the lab up and winding itself slowly around Peter's neck, stealing the breath from his lungs. Tony stormed through the lab, footsteps like thunder, anger crackling like lightning. Desperately, Peter followed the billionaire. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please calm down," Peter pleaded with him.

"No," Tony spoke, voice cold and flat, tone totally devoid of emotion, so totally opposite to the fury painting his entire body like a second skin. "No I will not calm down, Peter. He dropped a fucking building on you. He deserves to die."

"But you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him," Peter begged, tugging at Tony's sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop the man from his warpath. Peter knew he could easily overpower Tony. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "Trust me, I know how it feels to want revenge, I really do, but you have to let it go. Please, Mr Stark."

"Dammit Peter, he hurt you!" Tony shouted, whirling around to face Peter, features twisted and manically furious. "He hurt you a-and I wasn't there and you had to deal with being crushed by a fucking building and then you got up and kept fighting because of that sick son of a bitch so I swear to fucking god I will murder him." Tony's eyes held a frenzied wildness in them, chest heaving up and down, Peter could hear his heart racing.

"Mr Stark, try some breathing," Peter said out of desperation, completely and utterly out of ideas. "Just breath. In and out, in and out." Tony's momentary surprise shocked him out of his anger, confusion flickering across his face momentarily before the anger was back, stronger than ever. Tony pivoted on his heel and walked away from Peter, heading towards where he kept his suits and leaving a heavy sense of dread pooling in Peter's stomach and twisting his insides in knots. So breathing hadn't worked. Thanks for nothing self-help books.

~~~

Step 5. Hack the most advanced AI in the world.

When in doubt, do something potentially illegal. A mugger had once told Peter that after Peter caught her trying to rob a young man. That lady had been fucking badass. It was honestly a shame she's gone to prison but a criminal is a criminal. Turns out the lady had been responsible for a string of high-end bank and jewellery robberies. Peter wondered how she was doing. Probably not well, considering how shit the American jail system is. Peter always tried to find alternative ways to stop criminals, only really sending in the pedophiles, rapists, murderers and the more professional robbers. Sometimes people had no choice in the shitty hand life had dealt them and goddamn if Peter didn't get that. People were just pushed and pushed until they were left with nothing but desperation. Maybe if the government or any of the fucking American systems were better or did their jobs properly then people wouldn't have to steal just to keep themselves and their families from starvation. Maybe Toomes wouldn't have started his alien tech business and then none of this would have even happened. Peter wouldn't be in this situation right now. And Peter was now out of options. He had an angry billionaire on his hands and absolutely no idea what to do. So, he took the lady's advice and decided to do something potentially illegal. He hacked the most advance AI in the world. (What, like it's hard?)

"Hey FRI?" Peter called with a wince.

"Yes, Peter," the AI replied.

"I'm really sorry," Peter told her before bringing up FRIDAY's code. (A/N - I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS SO THIS IS GONNA BE SOME VAGUE, QUESTIONABLE AF HACKING) Fingers flying across the keys of the laptop, Peter bit his lip in concentration, brows furrowed. He had to hurry and shut down Mr Stark's suits before he reached them and left to murder Toomes. Adrenaline coursed through his body, brain whirring to life like the computer before him as he deleted lines of code, rewriting and altering the code that created FRIDAY as he tore down the firewalls Mr Stark had built. Peter vaguely registered that this was probably illegal and that Mr Stark would most definitely be mad about this later but he quickly waved the thoughts away. He didn't have time for them, he didn't have time, he didn't have time. Barely registering what he was doing, Peter submerged himself into the world of numbers, immersing himself completely in the ocean of lines of code, fingers instinctively knowing what t do as though he'd been born to hack. Again, probably not a great thing that this was so easy. But computers had always made sense to Peter. After what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, Peter was into FRIDAY's system. And with a few taps, Peter shut down the suits. Quickly exiting the browser, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He'd done it. With a long exhale, Peter relaxed, leaning back into his chair and running his shaking hands through his hair. An enraged roar broke the peaceful quiet surrounding Peter and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored it, Mr Stark's anger would go away. He couldn't deal with this shit. Peter was too young to die.

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to fucking god-"

"You probably shouldn't fuck god, Mr Stark," Peter couldn't resist remarking with a shit-eating grin. "People might get a bit mad. And who knows, you may even end up pregnant which I can't imagine will be very fun."

"What the fuck?" Tony whispered into the silence that followed Peter's statement. "I don't even want to know what goes on in your brain." Peter hummed in agreement. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on up there half the time. He was just along for the ride. And hey, if it distracted Mr Stark from his anger then it was a win win situation right? (How Peter won in this scenario he didn't know but he didn't question it).

"It's the trauma," Peter replied flippantly, as casual as one would be if they were discussing the weather.

"The-" Tony broke off into angry, confused gibberish that Peter didn't even try to decipher. Crisis averted. Now to deal with the aftermath.

~~~

Step 6. Watch a movie.

Peter Parker wasn't good with emotions. Being a socially awkward sixteen-year-old genius had that effect on a person. Not to mention the fact that he had a crime-fighting, sarcastic alter ego. Yeah, he wasn't great with feelings. Especially not his own. And now he was attempting to help Mr Stark clam down after the whole Toomes-dropping-a-building-on-him-reveal thing. And the only way an emotionally stunted teenage genius superhero knew how to help an emotionally stunted adult genius superhero was something most people would not class as a healthy coping mechanism. Distraction. Preferably with a movie.

"Hey Mr Stark, wanna watch Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asked. Tony fell into a confused silence which Peter took as an agreement. "Yes? Perfect, let's go." Grabbing Tony's arm, Peter tugged him out of the lab and into the elevator, confusion splashed across Tony's features as they entered the movie room. Peter dropped onto the expensive yet incredibly comfortable couch in the centre of the room, pulling Tony down beside him. "Hey FRI? Can you please play The Empire Strikes Back."

"Certainly, Peter," FRIDAY replied, a hint of warmth in her robotic voice. The Star Wars theme filled the room, Peter lips kicking up into a smile at the familiar sound. And as the movie played, Peter reciting every single line with the characters, he felt the rage and tension slowly drain out of his mentor as he relaxed.

"Hey, kid," Tony whispered, interrupting Luke and Darth Vader's showdown. "I sorry for getting angry. I just... I just didn't know what to do. Instead of asking if you were okay I blamed myself and wanted to frigging murder a guy who's already suffering in prison."

"It's okay, Mr Stark," Peter responded with a smile, sincerity gracing his tone. "I get it. After Ben died, I found his murderer. I almost killed the guy," Peter chuckled without humour, Tony watching him with sad eyes, the movie forgotten. "Point is, I know how it feels to want revenge. Don't apologise for being human."

"You really are the best of us all, kid," Tony remarked, a smile adoring his face, features relaxed as he looked at Peter.

"I learned from the best," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, throat tight with emotion.

"I meant May," Peter joked lightly, the heavy emotion clouding the room vanishing as Tony laughed.

"Are you okay, kid?" Tony asked, seriousness settling over them again.

"Honestly?" Peter responded, "no. But that's alright. Because I will be." Peter held Tony's gaze, warmth blossoming in his chest at his mentor's caring eyes, as Darth Vader's voice filled the room.

"No, I am your father," Darth Vader spoke. Peter turned back to the movie, watching as Luke jumped and fell.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Tony whispered, "we're both gonna be okay."

Because Peter would be okay. So Tony was okay too.

And if Pepper walked in three hours later to find them curled up against each other, fast asleep she never said anything. (She got FRIDAY to take a photo and saved it to Irondad and Spiderson - an unsurprisingly large file. She should probably get Peter to do a DNA test. They did look rather similar)

#fanfic #peter parker #spider-man #iron man #irondad #father-son #pepper potts #unhealed trauma #marvel #the avengers #spider son #bamf peter parker #tired dad Tony #tony stark #aunt may

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hongism · 4 years ago

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1:58 am - c. jongho 18+

↣ pairing: jongho x fem!reader ↣ genre: fluff, smut ↣ wc: 2.0k ↣ for @ppersonna: “HELLO MY BESTIE RATTY PLS JONGHO WITH 25 - Being somewhere you’re not supposed to be 34 - “It’s 2am. Go back to sleep.” ↣ warnings: language, oral sex: f

In your defense, Jongho is both a maniac and insatiable. What started as a lovely movie night between the two of you, with his roommate Yeosang curled up in the armchair by the couch, has quickly devolved into leagues of stress for you and endless amusement for Jongho. Yeosang is (thankfully) off in dreamland and fast asleep despite the movie still going in the background, although that does nothing to quell your current nerves as Jongho’s hand is moving further up by the minute.

It started at your kneecap, two fingers tracing mindless patterns into your skin under the blanket. Then he slipped to the inside of your knee and clutched tight at your flesh before pulling up the inside of your thigh.

Now, he has a hand basically over your crotch, close enough to make you sweat but far enough away to have you refraining from squeezing your thighs shut over his fingers.

And being a cocky little shit, of course Jongho knows exactly what he’s doing to you — if the smirk curling over his lips is any indication at least. You aren’t about to scar yourself or Yeosang by fooling around on the already stained leather couch in their apartment, as much as you really want to give in to his lingering touches.

You haven’t been paying attention to the movie on the screen for at least an hour, maybe longer than that because you don’t even recall the name of the damn film at this point, and all your focus is honed in on the fingers pressing into your thigh. Jongho won’t stop teasing with his touches either. Every few seconds, he squeezes just enough to startle you into sitting up straight just when you’ve recovered from the last touch. You’re certain he’s trying to seem interested in the movie given the way he keeps making interested noises or scowling at the screen, but then his smirk returns and you know what he’s really up to.

In short, you have had more than enough of his fun and games, growing increasingly frustrated with each passing second. Your body is so pent up and overheated that sweat is pooling at your brow, and that’s what makes you nudge his hand away as a last-ditch effort to save yourself from this teasing hell he’s trapped you in. Yet this isn’t your apartment and you can’t very well escape to his bedroom without looking suspicious to Yeosang. As far as his roommate is concerned, you and Jongho are still just friends, even if there is an ungodly amount of sexual tension lingering between the two of you like this.

Water. Yes, you need water. And where can you get water? The kitchen of course. Perfect plan. You should be safe from Jongho’s antics there, no?

“Feeling alright, Y/n?”

As it turns out, you are very much not safe in the kitchen.

You nearly throw the glass in your hand at Jongho’s head out of sheer shock when he sneaks up on you, creeping into the kitchen behind you like a damn ghost. You manage to hold back from doing that, but a small yelp escapes your lips instead. Jongho laughs at that, continuing to chuckle under his breath even when you try to level him with a sharp glare. He has the audacity to look absolutely delectable at nearly two o’clock in the morning wearing nothing but a stupid black t-shirt and stupid grey sweatpants with his stupid hands shoved deep in the pockets like he wasn’t trying to practically finger you on the couch moments ago.

“I don’t know, am I?” It made sense in your head, although that might be because of the haze of arousal over your brain because once it actually comes out, you’re wondering why the hell you said that.

“Well, you felt more than alright just a few minutes ago.” He’s smiling again, another lascivious grin that has you sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Not here,” you hiss back as a last-ditch effort to talk yourself out of this (again).

“Because Yeosang is in the other room? Come on, Y/n, you know half the fun is in the risk of getting caught.”

A scoff passes through your lips, loud enough to resound through the small kitchen.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re painfully aroused. Are we done stating the obvious?”

Throwing this glass at his head is a lot more tempting now, but that would certainly cause a ruckus and Yeosang would wake up in a heartbeat.

“Only because you were fucking feeling me up on the couch like it’s your goddamn job!”

Jongho crosses the kitchen in three seconds flat, suddenly so close to you that you can’t breathe your own air without feeling the heat of his breath against your lips. You stumble back and hit the edge of the counter behind you. Jongho doesn’t give you a moment to recover, catching your wrists in his grip and pressing them hard against the surface of that same counter.

“Careful there, doll, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone up, would you?”

“No, that’s not what I want,” you exhale. It’s not enough to quell the desire in your gut, especially not when Jongho’s fucking thigh is pressed between your legs and leaving you squirming. He knows how you feel about his thighs thanks to an unfortunate admission on your part one night when you had too much alcohol (and unfortunately Yeosang knows too since he was an unwilling participant in that conversation).

“What do you want then? Although, I’m fairly certain that I know.” Again, Jongho’s gaze flicks down over your body, enough to be obvious about the way he’s checking you out from head to toe, but he returns to staring you in the eye after a second.

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you hiss under your breath. In the same sentence, you free your wrists of his grasp and push down hard on his shoulders. It’s nothing compared to his strength — he’s more than strong enough to resist your futile efforts, but he goes along with it anyway and lets you push him to his knees in front of the counter.

“You’re lucky I never make you beg, baby. If I did, you’d never get to cum.”

Tempting, you think, but right now you aren’t in the mood to be edged or teased anymore. Jongho did his fair share of that for over two hours, so all that is on your mind is a release under his skilled tongue.

“Please, Jongho, I’d like to do this before Yeosang wakes up…”

His hands are already curled around your pajama shorts, taking the soft fabric into his grip and pulling down with no resistance. A sharp inhale follows as the cold air hits your nether regions, and Jongho lifts one of your legs up to his shoulder as he bunches your shorts into the palm of his hand.

“Be glad I didn’t take you on the couch right in front of him then.”

Then Jongho is smiling up at you from between your legs, and you would be lying if you said that isn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. You brace yourself on the counter, knuckles white from the effort of clinging to the marble, and the man beneath you takes his teasing a step further. Soft lips caress the inside of your knee over the spot he clung to for the better part of an hour, then he follows the same path his hand took as well. He doesn’t stop until his nose is flush with your folds, and even then he exhales against you in a way that has a chill rushing down your spine. Your curl away from the counter, unintentionally pressing your hips closer to his mouth in the same fluid motion. It’s enough to make his nose hit your clit dead-on in a way that has a strangled moan escaping your lips. You fling a hand up to your mouth (too late as it does absolutely nothing to conceal the sound).

“Now it sounds like you’re trying to wake Yeosang up, doll.”

“I’d like to see you stay quiet when I’m sucking you off next time.” You manage to smirk a little, just enough to be playful and throw him off a little. He’s just as quick to retaliate, which is both a good and bad thing for you because his next move is to hoist your other leg onto his shoulder, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to clamp your thighs around his face. You have to bite the side of your thumb to quell the noises bubbling up your throat; your remark seems to have been enough to spur him fully into action, his tongue brushing between your folds until he reaches your hole with practiced ease. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve indulged in this — his tongue pressing at your entrance like he has no other purpose in life, eating you out with more enthusiasm than ever, drawing so many noises out of you that it’s getting difficult to keep quiet.

“Jongho?”

The man between your legs freezes but doesn’t move away from your cunt, staring up at you from between your legs without blinking for so long that you think he’s truly stuck like that. Admittedly, you’re stuck where you are too, both because he’s got your legs around his face and on account of Yeosang’s sudden intrusion on your otherwise intimate moment. Your gaze goes straight to the archway to the kitchen. The kitchen island is tall enough to block the view of your lower half, but if Yeosang steps even one more foot into the room, he will certainly see what Jongho is up to. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before he does enter, and you’re watching with peaked anxiety as Jongho sidles up your body into a standing position again.

His hands find your hips, and next thing you know, he’s moving you around and pushing you until your back hits the kitchen island. It protects you from possible exposure to Yeosang, which proves to be a good move on his part because Yeosang pokes his head in the archway a second later. Jongho moves to the side enough to avoid suspicion but you’re still quite nude from the waist down and screwed if Yeosang decides to come further in.

“Oh, there you two are. The movie’s over?” Yeosang says, easing his weight against the doorframe.

“Yeah, you fell asleep pretty early on honestly. But it’s 2 am. Go back to sleep. We’re just picking up some snacks we pulled out while you were asleep.”

You think that excuse is far too easy to see through, especially if Yeosang decides to even so much as glance around the kitchen to see that you are certainly not doing any cleaning whatsoever. You squeeze your eyes shut. Looking at Yeosang right now would be a mistake and you would probably give away what you and Jongho have been up to in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m too sleepy to help you anyway. See you in the morning.” Yeosang stifles a yawn, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth, then lets his arms fall into a stretch. He lingers for only one more second before disappearing from the archway. You exhale the second he disappears, shifting to stare Jongho down as your heart continues to race rampantly in your chest without relent.

“That was a fucking mood killer,” you mutter before crossing your arms over your chest. Jongho huffs out a sigh and puffs his cheeks full of air. He stretches a hand out to touch your bare hip again.

“Let me make it up to you?”

#atzinc #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #jongho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #ateez timestamp #ateez imagine #ateez scenario #ateez drabble #caly.writes #hahahah hell yeah new tag #jongho drabble #jongho scenario #jongho timestamp

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oitommothetease · 3 years ago

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Invisible String (2/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Warning: Sexual assault, mention of an anxiety attack.

Word Count: 1641

It turns out you definitely can't do this. Working in retail sucks, majorly. Customers are so awful to you and other employees as well. You didn't make the products, you don't control the prices, then why should you listen to them rant about it all day?

This job was from 9 am to 4 pm, which reminded you a lot of your previous job. By the time you got home, you were exhausted mentally and physically. Your current schedule was eerily similar to your previous lifestyle, which left you with no time to work on your book.

You felt like you were stuck in an insufferable loop that you just can't seem to escape no matter how hard you try. You thought about Mr. Barnes a lot, too. If only you weren't so egoistic and been a little nicer, then maybe you could have had that job.

With each passing day, you were becoming desperate. The only reason why you didn't run to Mr. Barnes a week ago was your pride. A pride that would not let you bow down to that rude, egoistic asshole.

It's like the universe could hear your thoughts and the devil himself walked through the doors of the store. Fuck, he can't see you here. He's going to think you're some nut job who's chasing stupid dreams after having an excellent degree. At least that's what your parents think.

You were about to run and hide behind an aisle when the voice you knew too well called out for you.

"Hey, do you know where I could find-"

"You," He said, without an emotion. "What are you doing here?"

You pointed towards the badge with the name tag on your shirt and mouthed working.

"Why?"

"Why?" You pretended to think, "I don't know, I interviewed for this other job about a week ago, but the boss was an ass."

"You lied to me," he stated as if it wasn't the most obvious thing.

"Gee, sorry, dad."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what again?" You questioned.

" Diverging a question with a joke," He answered with an unaffected tone like he was studying you and your reaction.

"You know who I am." he stated. It should have been a question, but both of you were aware of what he meant.

"A vampire?" You mocked. He didn't look like one though, but hey, neither did Edward nor Stefan. But God, those steel-blue eyes could drink you up and you wouldn't complain. Focus.

For the first time you saw an emotion on his face that wasn't unaffected or bored, he was confused. Of course, he was confused, you were referencing twilight to a mob boss (you think, you weren't sure, but that's all you could gather from all the articles you found about him online).

"I need that job," you confessed. " I know it's not very convincing, but I need you to trust me-"

He raised a brow at that and his lips turned into a smirk. God, you wished you could swipe off that smirk from his stupidly handsome face.

"But you don't trust me, " you stated dejectedly and started turning around. "You wanted something? "

In an instant, his hand wrapped around your wrist gently, stopping you in your tracks. You ignored the involuntary shudder that ran through you and immediately yanked your hand out of his grasp.

You turned around and were about to give him a piece of your mind about how he shouldn't just come to your place of work and touch you without consent. He clearly guessed your thoughts and cut in.

"Clint Barton, the manager, he will tell you everything you need to know about bartending and handling the customers."

Did he just hire you? What changed between this and your previous meeting with him?

And just like that, he left. There was a part of you that wanted to say fuck off I don't need your help, but you knew better, so you went to that club later that evening. You found the Manager, Clint. He told you he was expecting your arrival and that made you feel weird because Mr. Barnes was totally opposite the day you met.

Your new job required you to be at work from 8 pm to 3 am, which was ideal for you. You usually reach home and pass out till 4 in the morning and wake up around noon. This schedule gave you a lot of time to work on your book.

You ended up making friends with some other people that work there as well. Wanda was the smart, sarcastic one that you'd have died to have as a friend in high school. Pietro, her twin brother, was also nice, a bit fast and impatient, but he was nice to you. Peter looked very young, but he knew what he was doing and he'd help you out a lot. That kid had a lot of energy and adrenaline, which surprised you every time he'd be done with work way before you.

You didn't see Mr. Barnes frequently. You saw him one time entering the club, and you tried to give him a smile which he ignored and went straight to his office upstairs. And then you decided to ignore him as well. It wasn't like you to be petty, okay, maybe you were being petty, but in your defense, he started it.

You were finishing up cleaning the table and were about to call it a day when a man you didn't recognize, probably wasn't a regular, came in asking for a drink.

"I'm sorry, sir. We're closed." You told him politely.

"Whiskey on the rocks."

You wanted to refuse him again, but you stopped yourself when he came into your sight. He didn't look like the kind of man who'd take your no seriously. He looked just as intimidating as Mr. Barnes, even more, but Mr. Barnes knew his boundaries, whereas this man in front of you evidently didn't. You could tell this by the way his gaze was slowly taking your body in and stopping a little longer at your cleavage.

You wanted to cringe and curse yourself for choosing to wear a top like that in a place filled with drunk men. The smarter part of your brain told you that he can go fuck himself, and you shouldn't think about men when you dress up. Women are entitled to wear whatever they want to and fuck men and people who tell them otherwise.

Carefully, you made his drink and handed it to him. His hand lingered on yours while taking the glass from you, and you wanted to just throw the drink across his face. His gaze remained on your chest even when you fixed your top and coughed twice to call his behavior out.

"What time do you get off?" he asked, eyes still on your chest.

Is this guy for real? , you thought.

"Um, this is highly inappropriate and I think you should leave now because I have to call it a night." you rejected politely, raising your hand towards the door, hoping he'd leave.

He chuckled darkly, his stare still drinking in your body as if you were a piece of meat, and it made you very, very uncomfortable. He obviously wasn't taking no for an answer, and you had no clue what to do. You were the only person left, and you didn't even know who to ask for help.

"Come on, baby girl," he said, walking towards you and forcefully snaking his hands around your waist to settle on your hips. " Don't make this harder than it should be. "

"No!" you yelled, pushing him away and creating some distance between you.

"Hard way it is then," he decided, walking towards you and forcefully holding the hem of your shirt in his hands to remove it. You struggled, yelled, and pushed him off you again. He furiously lunged forward towards you and hit you hard across the face. "Fucking bitch."

"Rumlow!" a voice boomed from behind you, and you hated yourself for being in such a vulnerable state. As much as you tried not to, tears welled up in your eyes and you hated being the helpless damsel in distress.

"Get the fuck out of here." the familiar voice ordered.

"Chill, Barnes. We were just having a little fun," the man known as Rumlow reasoned nonchalantly. "Besides, it's not my fault if she wears clothes like this."

You were all about feminism and how women should be treated equally with respect despite their attire, but at that moment you hated yourself for choosing that deep-neck shirt this morning.

"I'm not going to chill while you sexually harass my employees, so get the fuck out of here," Mr. Barnes warned again.

You closed your eyes and hoped that maybe this was a shitty dream and you'd wake up in your bed and have an anxiety attack because of the nightmare. You hoped that maybe the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you, so you could just not think about this ever.

You heard two sets of footsteps faintly in the background, one dragging its way away from you and the other rushing towards you. Furthermore, you didn't have it in you to open your eyes and meet the ocean blue ones that you knew were waiting for you.

In your head, you had already taken up the blame. The verdict came out the moment his gaze landed on your chest that it was your fault that you wore this shirt. Of course, if you were thinking right, you would have realized that you were undoubtedly the victim here and Rumlow was an asshole who assaulted you, but in your helpless state, your mind decided you were at fault here.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams

#mobster bucky #mob bucky #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobbucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #mob!bucky series #bucky series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes series

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animeyanderelover · 3 years ago

Note

Hello again! Can I have prompt 46 with Ash? Tnx

Recently I told my friend that I had a lot of requests about him and she laughed about it. She doesn't really like him, but she gives him credit since he looks good.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, extreme paranoia, isolation, desperation, mentions of kidnapping,overprotectiveness, mentions of self-harm, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 46: "Can I...can I kiss you?"

It was nothing less than a miracle that someone like you existed, someone who was cleansed from all the sins of this world and the corruption of humans. You were radiating with everything Ash had wanted for this world, a world that he wanted to give to you. It was the minimum from what she should and would do for you, it was his duty as your very own guardian angel. A role he was utterly dedicated too, devoted to his very own angel who forgave him his sins every time.

It was true, you had forgiven him his crimes already a long time ago as everything around you had started to fade away and you had lost count of how long exactly you had been stuck in here. Somewhere around one and a half years would be your expectation, looking on how the seasons had changed through the large and closed windows which symbolized your loss of freedom. But you didn't mind anymore.

You only needed and wanted Ash, your guardian angel.

There was clear tension in his body, you could feel how he stiffened up under your embrace. He had never really received that sort of affection before from anyone nor would he have ever wanted it from all those worthless lives walking around freely. You were the only person he actually wanted any sort of touches from. That was how pure you were, even causing someone like him craving something and falling victim to his own desires. And it was his own fault for being so weak-minded. He didn't deserve you yet letting you perish outside would be an even greater sin. He had to keep you safe.

"My Queen...what are you doing?"

Being able to keep his composure was important in front of you, though he remembered to have failed multiple times in the past already. Severe punishment was the only thing he could think of to atone for his failures for not being good enough, for proving himself to be so incredibly useless. Even now he could feel some unhealed wounds aching a bit, but you didn't have to know about his weakness and incompetence.

You blinked slightly confused up at him when he asked you such an obvious question, but it soon turned into slight giggling that instantly plunged Ash's heart into painfully warm emotions and forced his eyes to get wet. It had taken a while until you had been able to look so happy after he had quickly rescued you from all the evil waiting to devour you. The distress he had felt back then could never be put in words and no burns, knifes and broken bones had been able to make up for what you had been suffering under. Even now it remained as a anxiety deeply stuck in his heart. But looking at you now, smiling at him and not staring with wide eyes filled with fear at him, was worth much more than his whole life could ever repay you.

"I’m hugging you. It’s just that you always look so worried and stressed over my safety and never appear to take a rest. Just now you did as well so I thought this might help you a bit. A strong hug can be more worth than thousand words after all. That’s what my mother told me at least when I was younger.”, you replied softly, pressing your face deeper into his chest with a content look on your face.

There was nothing Ash could think of for a few moments, instead he seared the scene in front of him deep into his brain, how you were currently buried into his chest, looking so happy and peaceful. So stunning and precious.

Tears were quick to escape his eyes only seconds later, his insides stirring up with warmth that stung him and yet baked him with something he hadn’t felt in so long. Comfort and peace.

This was exactly why he had to protect you with his very own life, no one was allowed to snuff out the light you carried inside of you and that was able to even share it’s warmth with him. You possessed too much kindness to understand, but normal humans only destroyed what they touched, ruining it with their greed.

He wouldn’t let them do the same to you.

He would kill everyone who would even do as much as getting too close.

He just had to guarantee that you would live.

But first of all he had to calm himself down or otherwise he might worry you even more than he seemed to have done already. The tears were quickly wiped away with his sleeves before Ash was able to look at you again, still feeling like he wanted to continue crying. His heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“You have so much warmth and love inside of you that I don’t think I deserve any of it. You shouldn’t even be concerned about me, I merely do what I have to do as your guardian. If you were to fall victim to this damned place, I would perish as well. What use is an angel who can’t even protect their chosen one?”

Pain was twisting his voice and face a bit when he dared to imagine how a world without you would be, a world filled with grief and darkness for him. Letting his guard down would be a fatal mistake, he had seen the worst of this world and the humans and he knew that it would happen again. That was why he had to be like this for you were his heart beating outside his chest. If something were to ever happen to you...

The angel hadn't even noticed that he had already started crying again, fist tightened and body shaking whilst getting lost in fears of losing the one good and bright thing this world had still left.

"But for me you're more than just a guardian angel. You're my angel and I want you to feel happy as well. I want you to feel loved as well. You do so much for me, but I feel like I only cause you stress and uneasiness. Shouldn't you be happy because of me?", you asked him in slight protest, feeling sadness whilst seeing the man you had come to love like this again because of you. You had never seen him truly relaxed nor had you ever been able to show him your feelings. He wouldn't let you, not thinking that he deserved you.

His reaction was instant, suddenly falling on his knees upon hearing from what you had said that he had disappointed you yet again, the visible look of your sorrow only stabbing his fear deeper into his very soul.

"I-I am so sorry! I didn't know that you felt this way only because I was so selfish to only think about myself like this! I don't deserve your forgiveness and accept any sort of-"

When he felt the soft sensation of your hands cupping his stained cheeks, he abruptly stopped his rambling, trying to not choke on his own breath that had gotten irregular.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I don't want to hear you saying such things about yourself. Don't you understand? I am unhappy whenever you are like this, seeing yourself as so worthless and not deserving of my love. That's what hurts me so much. You're rejecting my feelings. I love you, Ash. And I want to know if you do too. Because if you do, please stop talking like this and behave so distantly."

Your voice conveyed every bit emotion that was going on inside of you in that moment, something that Ash noticed with widened eyes as well.

Silence was cut short by him when he realized that you wanted something crucial from him which he would gladly give you. He had never considered that you would ever consider his love as something you wanted, consider him as someone you loved. When had been the last time someone had been truly kind to him and loved him? He couldn't remember anymore.

"Of course I do. You should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. It's impossible to function without you.", he managed to reply with a shaking voice as he grabbed both of your hands in his own.

"Then why are you acting like this? Everyone deserves someone who loves them. Without love it's a very painful life, isn't it? That's why I am hurting as well. Let me love you and I promise that you'll be able to feel peace as well.", you muttered slightly embarrassed out, leaning your head down so your forehead could rest against his own.

Slight sobs were starting to catch up to Ash as he was staring in pure awe at you.

"Thank you. I'll be better and make sure that I won't cause you sadness anymore.", he pressed out, tightening his grip on your hands only the slightest bit so he wouldn't hurt you.

"I'm glad to hear that.", you replied with a sincere smile on your face, joy stirring your heart up just by seeing that for the first time since he had abducted you, Ash was looking relieved and less tense. He just looked extremely grateful.

"May I ask you for a favor then?", you requested with a certain idea in mind.

"I'll do anything for you.", Ash replied, sounding very emotional.

"I want to do something for you for once since you normally do anything for me."

Hesitation and clear dislike instantly shadowed his face, the thought of him asking something from you going against Ash's belief in all the wrong ways. You shouldn't have to do him favors.

"It doesn't have to be something difficult. It can be a really simple thing. Just...something that I can do for you this once. Please.", you begged slightly, seeing the angel already struggling. You knew how he felt about such things, he hated letting you do something for him and he had never done it before either. Ash saw it only upon himself to serve you which was another thing that sometimes made you feel guilty. You wanted to do more for him as well.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

Maybe that had been more a slip of his tongue, but he had been slightly panicking since hadn't want to sadden you again nor had he wanted you to do physical work for him. It was supposed to be the other way around.

So when he had stared for a moment at your face, eyes locked on your lips, he had considered somewhere deep in his mind possibilities which he had been fantasizing about a few times before, but hadn't thought that they would actually have a change of happening.

In his opinion they were still sinful, it would take a while for him to get used to the idea that you wanted to receive physical affection and love from him. The first impulse when he realized what he had said was instantly apologizing, only to be interrupted before he could even start saying anything.

You had already leaned down to fulfill him his wish before he could take it back again.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ash #yandere ash landers

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

Text

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugo Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 16:

Another day, another round of assignments that made you want to tear your hair out. You’d made virtually no progress on your project- seeming to find nothing but Dynamight smear pieces no matter where you looked.

You felt a little hopeless and frustrated, but that was alright- you knew the perfect pick-me-up.

You frowned. That wasn’t an answer you wanted to hear, but you figured you should’ve have been that surprised.

It you’d learned anything about him over past two weeks, it was that you were expected to live in Bakugou’s world and it was his way or not at all.

You rolled your eyes in minor frustration, but answered him anyway.

You huffed, your annoyance growing.

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you anything. Was he not curious about you the way you were about him? Did he not care even a little bit?

Oh well- you knew when to pick your battles, and you could see from miles away that this was an incredibly idiotic one to pick right now.

You decided to ask him something lighter next. Maybe he’d answer then.

You sighed in nothing but utter bewilderment. Bakugou had to be the strangest person you could ever remember meeting.

You groaned audibly.

Talking to Bakugou was like pulling teeth, almost every time, and you couldn’t figure out why you kept coming back. All you knew is that you were going to, even with how annoying he was being right now.

Huh?

Embarrassing?

You wracked your brain, searching and searching for anything that could’ve been embarrassing to him. He already said he wasn’t going to ask anything inappropriate, and he’d already swore several times that he wasn’t a liar, so it wasn’t that- but if it wasn’t that then what was it?

He read your message, but didn’t begin typing.

You were just intrigued now, what was he talking about? Why was he being so cagey about it?

The more you thought about it, the more nervous you were getting. You genuinely had absolutely no guesses on what he wanted to ask you. When you told him you’d answer anything you’d meant it, but now you weren’t so sure.

Bakugou began typing a few minutes later.

You waited for his response with bated breath and shaking fingers.

It was a long shot, and you knew it. He’d been so secretive and reluctant to reveal anything about himself, you’d be really surprised if he said yes. You couldn’t help it though, typing out the suggestion the second the thought entered in your head. You wanted to know everything about him. Anything at this point- even if it was just what he sounded like when he spoke.

Bakugou began typing, but deleted his words. He didn’t start typing again.

You sighed, walking away from your phone dejectedly but not altogether that disappointed. You didn’t really have high hopes that he would’ve said yes anyway. You doubted Bakugou wanted to hear your voice as much as you wanted to hear his.

Over twenty minutes past before your phone started ringing.

Bakugou :)) - Incoming Call 7:31 PM

You took a shaky breath, unable to tell if your nerves were excitement or anxiety. Seeing the notification almost made you forget almost everything that wasn’t him.

You hit accept, bringing the phone close to your ear and holding your breath. You didn’t want to miss a single thing he said.

“Hey, dumbass.”

Wow- his voice was not what you expected but definitely what you should’ve. It was low and raspy, deep and guttural; his greeting sounded more like a bark than anything as a result. And he was loud too. So very loud and if you paid extra close attention, maybe a little breathless.

“Hey, angry man.” You couldn’t keep the joy out of your voice. “Hi.”

“Oi-idiot. I can hear you fuckin’ smiling. Knock that stupid shit off.”

“Yeah, okay.” Giggling, you shifted the phone from your right ear to your left. “I was just happy to hear your voice at first. I’ll stop now if you want.”

“I- jesus. Fuck. Don’t say embarrassing shit like that again, or I’ll hang up.” His words were fast, and sharp, and loud but you think that maybe you could hear him smiling too. “Got it, shitty woman?”

“Yep. Got it- no smiling, or fun, or laughter or emotion because wet-rag Bakugou said so.”

“Hey! Shut the fuck up! That’s not what I fuckin’ said! I’m not a shitty w-“

“I know, I know, I was joking.” You couldn’t fight the smile stretching your cheeks even wider, but you tried to sober up for him anyways. “Now, c’mon, ask me what you were gonna ask me.”

You heard shuffling on his end, the sound of a door slamming shut, and the flick of a light switch. Otherwise he didn’t say anything.

“Did- did you just switch rooms to ask me?” You asked, nerves beginning to settle in your stomach. “Jeez, how serious is this?”

Truth be told, you were a little worried now. What kind of question would require a secondary location?

“It’s not- fuck. I did switch,” He shouted, voice still breathless. You couldn’t figure out why though. “But not for that fuckin’ reason, just didn’t want shitty people- nevermind.”

“Wow, that was a whole lot of words there, and most of them were swears.” You couldn’t help teasing, hoping it would lighten the mood. “Very eloquent, Bakugou.”

“Fuckin’ suprised or somethin’? I swear like this over text too, idiot!”

“Yes, yes, I know.” You pulled the phone away from your ear, wincing slightly at just how loud he really was. “Now stop stalling, I wanna know.”

“Are you making demand-“

“Yes.”

“Don’t interrupt me, shitty woman! I’m fuckin’ gettin’ to it, Jesus! Y-you make everything so goddamn d-difficult.”

You were sure now. Bakugou was nervous. Maybe it was the excessive swearing, or the little stutter, or maybe it was the way he spoke his words so quickly that you could tell he forgot to breathe- either way, you knew it for a fact, and it only made your heart grow warmer than it already was. He was just as breathless as you and you found it adorable.

You didn’t say anything in response, instead waiting for him to start speaking again.

“I- shit. I don’t- I don’t know how to fuckin’ ask this without sounding like a pansy-ass!”

“Bakugou.” You nearly snort, already absolutely endeared by him. “C’mon- it’s fine. Just ask, it’ll be okay. What if I promise you I’ll only make you say it once?”

“Only once?”

“Yes, angry man, only once.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear him breathing. Even through the phone, you can tell that his presence is loud- that nearly everything about him must be loud. It makes you wonder what a face-to-face conversation with him would be like.

You decide then that you’ll do whatever it takes so you don’t have to wonder anymore. So you’ll know for certain exactly what he looks like when he swears and screams so much.

“I wanted- I just-fuck,” His voice is somehow louder, words blurring together as he nearly screams through the speakers. “I wanted to know- I wanted to know if you were mad about that stupid shit I said a few days ago, okay?!”

You blinked slowly, trying to figure out how to respond. What- what was he talking about? A few days ago?

Oh.

You always just run your mouth no matter what I say. So just do that since that’s about the only thing you’re capable of.

You- you forgot about that until now. Almost completely, like he never even said it in the first place. And truly, at the time Bakugou said it, it did hurt; but not for that long, you knew he was just upset and probably didn’t mean it. So when you told him it was alright, you meant it. It was a shitty thing to say, for sure, but you were a big girl, you could choose your battles, and you could recognize when somebody was irritated- especially someone like Bakugou, who was incredibly obvious about his frustration.

Still though- why was he still thinking about it? Was he- was he feeling guilty? Was he really worrying about your feelings that much?

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Jesus, see, this is why I didn’t wanna fuckin’ say anything!” Bakugou’s shouts interrupt your thoughts. He speaks almost faster than you could keep up with. “Fuckin’ say something already, idiot!”

“No-no, sorry, um,” You place your phone on the ground, turning it on speaker to avoid further hearing loss. “It’s not- I don’t think it’s embarrassing or anything; I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that. I was thinking.”

He goes quiet again- and you think you can hear him huff in frustration.

“You didn’t- you didn’t fuckin’ answer, dumbass. That’s not an answer.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right. It’s not.” You push your knees up to your chest, crossing your arms and pulling them into your body. “I’m not. I’m not upset- we’re good. It was shitty, but I get it, you were mad.”

“Okay. Because I-I didn’t mean it, okay.” Bakugou says, softer this time, but muffled, like he’s got his hand over his mouth. “But, I-I didn’t like care or anything, I only asked because I was just curiou-“

“Curious, huh?” You couldn’t help the teasing tone from dripping into your voice. “So you weren’t even the least bit concerned about my feelings?”

“No!” Bakugou shouts.

You roll your eyes when you hear the sound of a crash, like something fell on Bakugou’s side of the call. It sounded like glass, maybe? You didn’t think it could possibly get any louder, but once again he seemed to make it happen.

“I don’t care or anything, okay? I just didn’t want you to be fuckin’ annoying as shit and still be crying like a little bitch and not be tellin’ me about it!”

“So you want to know if I’m crying or not?”

“Yes- “ Bakugou says immediately, and even you can hear the surprised gasp that leaves his mouth. “No- I meant no! I don’t care, or whatever I-”

“Mhm. Calm yourself, angry man. Whether or not you care, we’re still all good. I’m not crying.” Your tone was indulgent. “But, you know, if you really wanna make it up to me thou-

“I don’t! I’m not- there’s nothing I’m sorry about, idiot!”

“If you really want to make it up to me,” You continued, talking over his complaints without missing a beat. “You could answer something for me.”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, this is easy. Don’t be a wuss.”

“I’m not a fuckin- fine. Go. Ask.” His words are harsh, but the tone of his voice softens just a little. “Just don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m not.” You laugh under your breath. “I just wanna know- what was it that fell earlier, angry man?”

“N-nothing!” He screams, and you could only imagine just how red he was. “Nothing fell- so, so just drop it!

“Really? Because it sounded sort of like glass?” You snicker, moving to lie down, your head next to the phone. “Are you so nervous that you’re destroying your apartment, Bakugou?”

“I’m not-“

Another crash, and then you hear popping. It reminds you of when you cook bacon on the stove- is he cooking?

“Fucking goddamit! Fuck-“ Bakugou roars so loudly you swore you could hear the spit in his mouth. The popping abruptly stops. “I’m not fuckin’ nervous! I’ve never been nervous so stop running your mouth and saying stupid shit like that becaus-“

“I’m nervous.” You say, voice small. “You make me nervous.”

There’s silence on the other end, and you think that maybe you made a mistake.

It wasn’t a lie. Bakugou did make you nervous- but maybe it wasn’t the right time to say that? Maybe it was too much vulnerability and he’d hang up out of a sheer discomfort? He was pretty allergic to emotions after all.

That thought made you frown. Your ear drums might have been screaming for him to leave, but you certaintly weren’t. You liked him and wanted him to stay on the phone- asinine wailing and all.

“Being nervous is stupid, dumbass,” Bakugou bites out, all teeth and huffed breath. “Only stupid people do it. And you’re not actually stupid so you shouldn’t do it.”

You snorted, clasping a hand over your mouth. Of course, that’s how he would respond! It wasn’t clear to you now why you ever thought he’d hang up. Bakugou always seemed to stick around- even if only to make fun of you mercilessly.

“Wow. Thank you, Bakugou. Sage advice.” You laughed.

And then it was like you couldn’t stop laughing. You couldn’t help it- that was such a Bakugou response and just by virtue of it being that, you found it hilarious. You found him hilarious, and you were so beyond happy to be hearing his voice.

“G-get closer to the phone, idiot. I can barely fuckin’ hear you.” Bakugou suddenly snapped. You heard him take a deep, slightly shaky breath. “If-if you’re gonna laugh like that then at least let me hear it.”

You felt your face warm, heart racing wildly in your chest. “Yeah. Y-yeah, okay. Got it.”

Grabbing your phone with shaking fingers, you pulled it to your chest, curling around it as you rolled on your side. The floor was slightly uncomfortable, the wood digging into your skin, but you didn’t think anything could’ve made you disrupt this moment. Nothing in the world.

“Can you hear me?” You asked, utterly breathless and suddenly very shy.

“Yeah.” He says softly. “I can.”

And you agree with him- you think that maybe you can finally hear him now too. Yelling and screaming and surprising care and all.

#mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou soulmate textfic #bnha fic #mha fic #bakugou imagine #bnha soulmate au #bakugou fic

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