#and yet it felt like a backhand next time I remembered it

[kindlythevoid]

Me, upon receiving one (1) SORTA mean, maybe-off comment out of hundreds of super nice comments that I love, now staring for even MORE hours at the draft of the next chapter I need to write: Well, fuck. Now what? Also Me, .02 seconds later, gritting my teeth and strategizing: Well, I write this fanfic for me. This is my fanfic. People can think what they like. I will take this comment and use it to think of new ways to improve my writing, but I will not internalize it. I write this fanfic for me. This is my fanfic. People can think what they like. I will take this comment and use it to think of new ways to improve my writing, but I will not internalize it. I write this fanfic for ME. This is MY fanfic. People can think what they like--

[sc0tters]

Littlest Hughes - Mark Estapa

summary: when a game of beer pong turns interesting you learn to realise that your brothers friend isn't so bad after all.

trope: forced proximity

warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected!), underaged drinking, swearing, fingering.

word count: 3.67k

authors note: to the people that remember when this idea came out in like November, thanks for being patient cause Mark and the beerpong fic are now here! everyone thank @hischierhaze for making this one come out long before she was actually intended to be here for you all. if you want to look at more of the 500 celly then you can do so here!

You swore you hated him. 

It was the idea of having someone you couldn’t stand in the slightest. The kind of person you couldn’t even be in a room with as you just wanted to gauge your eyes out. Someone who made you feel so irritated that the mere thought of them had you getting angry. 

Now you have weren’t entirely sure why he pissed your off in the ways that he did. But as Mark seemed to hate you just as much as you hated him, you were never going to be in a rush to improve your relationship. Yet the problem arose when he instead opted to get close to your brother, Luke. 

The boys were teammates and it was enough to make your whole family agree that your negative relationship with Mark wasn’t enough to stop him from being invited to the lake house. It was Luke’s first summer as an NHL player and those friends from college were the very men that Luke missed so much. So being the best younger sister that you were, you agreed to bite your tongue. 

That’s how you landed up spending a week with his closest friends and for the most part you were having a good time. 

“God you are such an ass!”

Key word, for the most part. 

Mark smirked as he held your top over his head leaving you in nothing more than your blue and yellow bikini “you and I both know that those aren’t the right words.” He teased continuing to lean up each time you reached for the baseball jersey “I will kick you Estapa stop being a dick.” You spat as you crossed your arms sending him a glare. 

Before Mark could respond Luke walked into the room “bro could you not leave my sister half naked?” Your older brother gagged as he shook his head “till next time kid.” Even though there was less than two years between you both Mark still loved that nickname. 

So as he dropped your shirt in your hands you couldn’t help but scowl at him “fuck off.” You growled pulling the shirt over your arms “you wanna go on the boat you two?” Jacks offer pulled your attention away from the boy as you nodded “sounds great!” You nodded leaving the boy alone as you went to be in peace for the next few days.

You weren’t a hockey player, it wasn’t your thing but what is your thing is beer pong. Yet unfortunately for you it seems that the only person worthy of being your opponent was Mark. So that was how you both ended up being the last ones left in what felt like the longest game of beer pong that anyone had seen “you two see an end in sight?” Quinn groaned as he looked down to his watch when he let out a yawn. 

It was this endless back and forth where you would each win a game and would then refuse to let them take it and that’s how you ended up at 12-13 with the only rule that to be crowned champion you’d have to win by two games “you ready to give up?” You sent the boy a glare as it only made the Michigan player laugh “just when I thought you could have been stronger than you actually came off.” The compliment was backhanded as Mark laughed. 

The boys responded with groans as the idea of this game continuing made them all feel sick “I’m going to bed.” Quinn announced as he shook his head “me too.” With that boys went in groups as your constant bickering got tiresome. 

Seven games had gone on and the new score was 16 all and you were just as irritated now as you were then “could you hold off on killing each other until tomorrow?” Ethan asked as he let out a yawn “want to watch it happen.” Mackie laughed as he nodded in agreement only going quiet when Luke sent them a glare.

Your brother rolled his eyes as he placed his hand on your shoulder “please just let him win so you can both go to bed?” Luke mumbled hoping that you would agree “never.” You grumbled as you refused to give Mark that kind of joy. 

So of course things continued and you guys were left alone but not before Luke kissed your head “now you don’t got your big brother helping you out.” Mark teased as he got the ball between his fingers as he lined up his shot. 

Mark smirked as he saw you pull your hair into a hair tie “tryna distract me with your skin?” The boy mumbled seeing your collarbones pop through the red cami vest that your were in “cause it’s not gonna work.” He added making you laugh. 

It was a hearty one as your teeth caught your lower lip “please the mere thought of tits are gonna have you not seeing straight.” You pressed your hands against the table exposing your body more to him “you wanna bet?” Mark made little effort to ignore the white lace that so clearly stuck out of your top. 

He took your silence and furrowed eyebrows as curiosity “winner takes all this game.” The hockey player offered making her scoff “higher stakes though as we’re now doing strip beer pong.” His offer was only met with the sounds of your scoff.

You crossed your arms as you couldn’t help but send him a glare “you just want to see me naked.” You rolled your eyes not wanting to give into him “don’t flatter yourself princess you aren’t my type.” Mark shook his head as he wasn’t interested in you like that “but if you are scared you’re gonna lose then I can accept-” you couldn’t even let him finish his sentence. 

“Throw the damn hall Estapa.” 

A scoff left your lips as you watched him go back to angling the hall and of course it just had to land in the beer “should we go with your shirt or your shorts first?” Mark teased as he watched you hook your fingers into your shirt before you pulled it over your head revealing the white bra you loved so much as it had a little golden v in between the wires to compliment your skin “not bad.” The boy mumbled to himself as he had seen you in less before but never in something with lace. 

You took your cup and brought it to your lips letting the unsweetened liquid hit your tongue as you chugged it back not caring at the amount that dripped down your chin “what?” You asked dropping the cup to the ground as the boy looked like he was watching a dream “nothing.” Mark ignored how your lips were wet and the top of the lace of your bra as getting soaked as beer dropped down your chest. 

Of course your ball went in and off went his shirt, it was followed by your shorts and then his. Until eventually you were both only on your undergarments “need some help getting that bra off?” Mark joked as he watched you reach behind your back but not before you flipped him off. 

The idea of anyone being able to come down at any point didn’t seem to bother either of you as you clicked the clasp of your bra letting it fall down your arms as the cool summer night air made your nipples harden “you really do have secrets Hughesy.” Mark felt his mouth water as his eyes were drawn to the sparkling titanium bar that was pierced through your left nipple “shut up.” You grumbled as you attempted to ignore the way his hardening stare made you feel. 

As you potted your final ball it left the boy having to discard of his boxers “don’t bother with those.” You mumbled leaning down to grab your bra from the floor “would hate to see what isn’t there.” The claim was a total slap in his face and you knew what you were doing as you aimed to piss him off. 

It infuriated Mark with how well you knew to get under his skin “please you’d be lucky if I fucked you.” You began walking over to him as your bra was thrown onto the table “Mark I don’t think you even know how to make a girl come.” You shot back as you pressed your finger into his chest “I’d have you struggling to walk tomorrow.” Mark shook his head as he wrapped his hand around your wrist pushing your hand away from his chest.

This was the closest you had ever been to him before as his eyes pierced yours “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on this planet.” You laughed as you turned to walk away but the boy was quick to pull you back “so if I felt those pretty little panties would they be dry?” His voice was barely a whisper as he walked you back against the table until you were finally sat on it.

Your eyes were wide as you shook your head desperate to not give him the enjoyment of seeing that he had indeed won “be as dry as the desert.” You spoke through gritted teeth almost squealing as Mark dug his fingers into the skin of your hips “you gonna let me test my theory then?” He asked dropping his head to the point where his lips hovered over yours.

All you could do was nod as you before his lips were on yours. It was messy as your hands your tugging through his hair like you didn’t want him to ever leave you “fuck.” He grumbled feeling your teeth sink down onto his.

It was like you knew what you were doing as you smirked “even as I’ve got you ready for a good fuck you’re still acting like a fucking brat.” The college boy growled pinching your chin between his fingers as he clenched his jaw “what are you gonna so about it?” You sent him a smirk as you swore that if this was a battle, you were winning it.

Mark spoke to himself under his breath as he dropped his head to your jaw as he began planting kisses on your skin “shouldn’t even fucking treat you well.” His voice sent shivers through your ears as he continued dropping his lips down your chest “saw you looking at it.” His eyes locked onto your breast “you can touch it y’know.” You teased tugging your fingers through his hair making him groan in the process. 

He wasn’t going to be told again as he latched his lips around your pierced nipple as he groaned swirling his tongue around the piece of jewellery “fuck.” You swore trying to shut your legs to relieve the tension between your thighs “you still think that I can’t make you feel good?” Mark brought his hands down to your legs making you shiver as he forced your legs open. 

You chewed at your lip watching him get closer to the pool that had formed in your panties “when I speak you need to answer me princess.” You swore the hockey player growled as you nodded “know you can’t.” The tough facade you had up was hanging by a thread and it only grew weaker with how his hands grew closer to your core.

A gasp left your lips as his hand cupped your core “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by his lips “you little liar.” Mark clicked his tongue as a wet patch formed in your panties “please.” His thumb pressed against your clit where it drew soft circles.

Your head dropped against his shoulder as your body grew soft “what do you need pretty girl?” Marks voice was soft as he left a kiss on your forehead “you.” You croaked out as he toyed with your panties finally pushing them to the side. 

Mark teased you as you shook your head “want more.” You whimpered looking up at him with a pout “please.” You begged edging your cunt closer to his fingers “didn’t know that all I needed to do was fuck you to get you to shut up.” Mark sighed as he teased your slit. 

His fingers took their time plunging into your cunt “god!” Your groan was swallowed by his hand “you want your brothers to hear how much you enjoy my fingers fucking your pussy?” The hockey player rasped into your ear as you shook your head. 

His fingers were thick against the walls of your cunt as he curved his fingers into a come here motion “they can’t.” You mumbled growing panicked as you were reminded of how all three of your brothers were upstairs “then keep those pretty little lips shut if it’s not gonna be too hard for ya?” Mark tauted you as you mewled under his attention.

You clenched around him as you nodded finally going quiet “like having you all quiet now.” As you tilted your head up trying to bring your body closer to his Mark took the opportunity to nip at your neck “no!” You gasped as he inserted a third finger not caring about your protests. 

Mark smirked as he didn’t care “think you’re in a place to make the demands?” He scoffed as he clicked his tongue “thought you were smarter than that.” The hockey player teased as you pouted “the boys are gonna see.” You complained as his eyes sharpened. 

Somehow the words made his whole demeanour change “you worry what those boys are gonna think of you now?” Mark spat as he increased the pace of his fingers as he fucked your cunt “like you really gonna now care about them seeing you like the slut you’ve become f’me?” He added standing up straight as he glared at you. 

Your lips remained sealed as you tried to writhe your hips against his hand “remember pretty girl you answer me when I talk to you.” The hockey player warned “I’m your slut.” The words came from your lips as it made him grow surprised. 

The words made his cock grow hard against his boxers “you happy to see me or what?” You smirked feeling it press into your knee “think I need to fuck this behaviour out of you.” Mark grumbled pulling your panties down your legs as it hooked around your ankles. 

You had finally pushed Mark to a point where he had snapped and he wasn’t ready to come down from it yet “fuck I don’t have a condom.” The boy complained as he hadn’t exactly thought that having sex on this trip was on the cards for him “on the pill.” You shook your head offering a counter point that he gladly took. 

Being a hockey player you weren’t surprised that his cock was on the larger side of big but you had to admit that your mouth did water when he retracted his fingers from your cunt to pull his boxers down letting his boner hit his pelvic bone “you still sure that this is what you want?” Sure Mark thought you were still irritating but the even with that irritation he still believed in consent “please.” You whimpered as you bit down on your lower lip watching in awe as he pumped his cock a few times before he tapped the swollen head on your clit coating it in his precum. 

There was a moment between you both that if you weren’t still so buzzed from the alcohol in your system you would have sworn that there was something that could have mirrored something romantic between you both. His lips were soft on yours as his cock slowly creeped into your cunt letting your walls stretch to accommodate him “fuck you’re perfect.” Mark gasped as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he kept himself from coming on the spot. 

He had a few moments of just staying there with his cock frozen before you finally cleared your throat “need you to fuck me Mark.” You coughed out as the boy turned his face to look at you “please.” You didn’t need to ask twice as he nodded letting his hands grip at your hips as your legs locked behind his hips. 

Even as you were outside with the breeze your skin felt like it was on fire when his eyes pierced your gaze “how many guys you let have this tight little cunt of yours?” Mark made little effort to try to avoid the fact that he was jealous of his own question when the idea of some other guy fucking you came into his mind. 

As his cock throbbed in your core you struggled to stay focused “j-just t-tw-two.” You stammered falling over your words as his thrusts became deeper “and did they make you feel this good?” Mark swore that the image of you beneath him struggling to even shake your head as your breasts bounced with each thrust that he made, would he engraved in his brain forever. 

The first time you had sex was in high school when you lost it to your boyfriend of two years and you were both virgins. He came within a couple of pumps of his cock and left you there frustrated and alone as he went to shower only handing you a wet cloth before he shut the door behind himself. The other was a jock that was only sleeping with you to get the attention of an ex so the moment she came knocking on the door he went running back to her. 

So if you truly thought about it Mark was your first time, not the embarrassing your overly awkward one. But your first time where you knew he was confident in what he did “didn’t come.” Even as you barely whispered those words Mark still heard you and he couldn’t help but smirk. 

If anything Mark took that as a reason to quicken his thrusts as he watched your eyes roll back “gonna make you feel so fucking good then.” Your brain fog made you wonder if he was merely thinking aloud or actually talking to you “and to think that you really put up that whole act before?” The hockey players teasing tone had you clenching around him as you propped your hands up behind you to stop you from falling back. 

His hand took the opportunity to slide between your bodies as he found your clit “you’re so fucking pretty when you’re so cock drunk.” The compliment came with a groan as he began toying his thumb over your clit “not gonna last.”

You warned not caring who heard your whimper that echoed from your chest.

Mark felt his thrusts grow irregular with how you cunt squeezed his cock with the new pressure your clit felt that had you wanting to press your thighs together “go make a mess doll.” There came the softest of the pet names from the night as he kissed you lips letting his hunger and pure desire to be the first guy that has you coming on their cock, take over his mind.

All that was left for you to do was listen to him as your lips let out a gaspy moan “holy fuck!” You swore as your eyes screwed shut letting white specks scattered themselves on the backs of your eyelids like stars in the night sky “breathe through it.” Mark cooed helping you on as the movements of his thumb combined with the thrusts of his cock lulled you through the brunt of your orgasm that had your legs shaking against his hips.

Before Mark could let his orgasm take charge he slid his cock out from your cunt making sure that you had come before that and he replaced the walls of your cunt with his hand “wha-” you grew confused at his abrupt movement “oh baby you have to work for me to come in you.” He grunted watching the warm sticky ropes shoot onto your stomach. 

It made you whimper as you watched almost hypnotized by the sight “next time if you aren’t a fucking brat I might let you get it properly.” The hockey player explained tapping the head of his now soothing cock on your clit letting what was left in him ooze onto your slit “that was.” Your chest heaved as you swore that you had just had the hottest experience of your life.

Mark laughed as he nodded “I know.” He pecked your lips as he reached down to where your panties had fallen to and made the effort to slide them back onto you but not before the hockey player kissed your lips “think it’s time for you to go to bed.” A yawn left your lips as you nodded at his words. 

He finished dressing you and even opted on helping you up the stairs before he left you tucked into your sheets where you nuzzled your head into the soft pillow “maybe you aren’t that bad Hughes.” Mark mumbled feeling his heart grow full at the sight of you blissfully drifting off to sleep. 

But as he let your door softly shut after him it would seem that nothing would actually ever truly change between you both. Because at the end he was always going to be your brothers friend who pissed you off, and well you were always meant to be Luke’s hot sister.

Yet the true test that would come after this was when Mark would have to realize that you weren’t his, no he wasn’t good enough to get that right to have you under his arm at every event on campus. Instead he was destined to watch other guys fill that role one you finally grew into a more confident state. 

“Since when has Rutger had a thing for little Hughes?”

[starry-blue-echoes]

Just wondering, what did happen when gio and Trish ascended the bell tower, in ur son of dio fic (I think that's the one where diavolo knows Gio is dio's kid and plans to kill two birds with one stone?) I remember that's one of my fave of ur fics and was pretty excited to see what happened next :0 no pressure of course!

I unfortunately don't have a fic for that one yet, but I'd be more than happy to share what happens next :)))

so things are...... definitely a bit tense when Bucciarati reads out the Boss's orders. He'd planned on meeting and confronting the Boss, and this was literally the perfect time but..... but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Sure it could just be played off as the Boss thinking someone younger would be easier to defend against, but he also likely had files on every member of the Bucci Gang and the next youngest member would've been Fugo, who amongst their group was honestly among the most dangerous and had been with Passione the second longest

so no, it didn't really sit right with him

but this was a direct order from the Boss, and unless he wanted an early grave he had to follow it. So he gets off the boat, sneaks in a cell phone by turning it into some vines to hide in his sleeve, and watches with Trish as the others ride the boat into the distance

when they head inside...... the feeling doesn't get any better. The air is heavy and neither of them speak but the tension is thick and there's a buzz of anxiousness around them. Trish still has her moment where the mask she's been keeping up cracks, where her anxieties and fears make their way to the forefront and Giorno....... Giorno offers her his hand

"I'll keep you from harm. It's what I've been tasked to do." he tells her. He isn't sure what possessed him to say that, after all in the face of the Boss he really wouldn't be able to do much. It was barely anything more than empty, pretty words or condolence

but at the same time, deep down Giorno realizes he meant it. Realizes that he would risk everything he'd been trying to do if that meant another innocent person wouldn't die because of his choices and decisions. Realizes he wouldn't be able to turn a blind eye should the Boss try to do something to Trish

right now looking at Trish he realizes she's just another 15 year old who doesn't know what's going to happen next. Just like him

if this is what friendship felt like, it was the single most terrifying and best thing he'd ever experienced

they hold hands as they ride the elevator up. A grounding, firm presence they can feel and touch to remind them that they're alive and still here

but then the touch is gone

and Giorno feels pain

Pain, pain, pain extending from his stomach outwards, like his ribs have been broken and ground into powder, he can't feel his legs anymore and above all else he grows cold

they're in the catacombs now, he distantly realizes. Gone is the neat, clean elevator and in its place is dark and damp and dusty stone, barely any light at all and merciless in its presence. Trish is on the ground nearby, a cloudy half lidded gaze meeting his eyes

he can't tell if she's alive or not

but through it all, all the conflicting sensations and emotions and fading pulse of Gold under his skin, Giorno's able to make out red with white crisscross

the Stand stares at him with its acid green eyes, mouth moving and making sounds and asking questions he can hear but not understand. He doesn't know who Brando is or what World he's talking about or why he thinks he was sent by someone, the Boss asked him to be here, none of it makes sense

all he can clearly make out in the arm going straight through his stomach and hoisting him in the air

he needs to move, he realizes. If he doesn't, he's going to die

as quickly as he can, the vines up his arm are thrown toward the Boss. The Stand backhands them easily, inadvertently throwing himself across the room in the process. The arm was more painful being pulled out then being put in, but at least on the floor Giorno can fix himself

everything's a blur after that. Healing Trish, causing a jungle of plants and animals to erupt in their wake as they bolt for the exit, and even as reality blinks before their eyes and the world skips ahead without them, the Boss isn't able to follow them through all the flora and fauna

but as they run, Giorno's mind is racing. The Boss knew who he was, and the Boss wanted something from him. He thought Giorno knew something he needed and was willing to kill him for it, and with a sinking feeling he realizes him being brought down with Trish was intentional

the Boss wanted to knock out two birds with one stone

and as the two of them leave the island clinging to the back of a sailfish, Giorno begins to wonder with an ugly, sickening feeling in his stomach if Bucciarati had been in on it

[cadrenebula]

Prompt #26: Break a Leg

(Warnings for violence and a nightmare scenario.)

Stefan walked forward through the fog that covered everything else visible. All he could make out was vague shapes among the fog as he walked. No idea where he was even walking to. Or why.

Slowly the fog seemed to be ending the further he walked. Making out crumbled walls and buildings now. A rather desolate looking landscape. Was it time or war that scarred this location? Where even was this location? It was hard to tell exactly where he was.

Was he even awake? Frowning now as he looked down at his hands. No he probably wasn’t. How else had he ended up here… Last thing he remembered was laying down for a nap because he was tired. He should probably turn around and leave. There was no telling if he had managed to find someone else's dream or was still in his own. If he wasn’t in his own… This could be potentially dangerous. 

Corveau had warned him against wandering someone else’s dream. Namely Ronove’s. Especially since he’d seen the Elder the other time he’d been here. It had felt like the Elder could see him too when that had happened. He’d been warned that he could potentially get hurt if he wasn’t careful. Even if this was a dream. Mostly because this wasn’t normal dreaming. Most usually weren’t aware they were dreaming, let alone walking someone else’s dreams. 

His footsteps halted as he got the feeling of being watched. Looking around as he tensed, ready to move if needed.

“So glad you could make it, Vanguard.” The voice sounded amused as it spoke, seemingly coming from a short distance away. It felt dangerous enough to send a shiver down his spine.

But that didn’t stop Stefan from turning around and running. No, instead he walked forward. Head held high as he came into view of the nightmarish creature waiting ahead. Taking a deep breath as he stopped before smirking up at what he assumed was the Elder.

“Oh? I didn’t know I had an invitation to a special party. It must have gotten lost in the moogle mail system. What a shame.” Stefan scoffed as he crossed his arms and put up a confident front. If this was a dream, he wasn’t about to let his fear of the Elder let him be weakened. He’d make sure he could control what he needed when he needed it. Not that he’d ever tried to control a dream in such a fashion yet.

“My what hubris. Typical of a Vanguard. No matter. Your soul will be just as good as all the rest when I claim what belongs to me.” 

“I don’t think so. I like my soul right where it is. Guess you’ll have to remain hungry since I’m the last and I don’t plan to come to you. Willingly or otherwise.” Stefan snorted as he shook his head before sneering at the Elder.

Movement below the crumbling building caught Stefan’s eye now. Wings made it hard to tell who the person was beneath them. Unless you recognized the wings, which Stefan did. The golden eyes that looked at him when Ronove began to move… They looked empty and hollow. At the feet of where he had been kneeling was a body that looked broken. Empty blue eyes stared out of a face that felt familiar to Stefan. Familiar but different. Another Vanguard possibly? This was a dream, or rather a nightmare after all.

Another look at Ronove had him shutting his eyes a moment as if to clear them. He could have sworn he’d seen a hyuran man standing where Ronove had been for a moment. The same golden eyes and blue hair but the skin color had been different, a nice sun kissed tan. Freckles had dotted the face across his nose and cheeks. But when he looked again, all he saw was the Ronove he knew. 

Next thing he knew was a gargoyle was rushing him. Taking the backhand swing as he wasn’t prepared for that to happen. Crashing against a crumbling wall and sliding down with a groan. That hurt even if this was a dream. Or at least it felt like it did. Damn it. Now would be a good time to wake up. Coughing as he tried to catch his breath back from being smacked so hard into a wall.

But at least the hit seemed to stop the gargoyle. Ronove shifted back to his elezen shape with a conflicted expression on his face though his eyes seemingly remained rather distant and empty. Maybe some part of him had realized through their bond. Stefan could only hope that was the case.

“Not so tough now are you, Vanguard?” The Elder laughed darkly as he practically glided over to where Stefan was. A tendril of shadowy darkness lashed out and wrapped around Stefan’s neck, lifting him off the ground where he’d been. Stefan’s hands clawed at the hold on his neck as his feet dangled above the ground too far to touch. “I won’t kill you here. I want you to come to me in the flesh. But that doesn’t mean I won’t make you suffer first for your arrogance.”

The Elder whipped his tendril to send Stefan crashing into a broken wall. A cry of pain from Stefan as he hit the wall hard, the tendril finally letting go of his neck. Hissing as he tried to roll over.

This was a dream. He needed to wake up. He needed to move. Anything. Grimacing in pain as he tried to do anything but lay there in a heap against the wall as the Elder neared him. Ronove just stood there staring blankly though his mouth was set in a frown.

That tendril wrapped around Stefan’s left leg now, yanking him away from the wall and closer to the Elder. Earning the Elder a sharp yelp of pain. Stefan struggled to try and get a grip on the offending appendage. His eyes had shifted over to their other state as he snarled and tried harder. He wasn’t going to just let the Elder do whatever he pleased. 

A howl of pain as something came down hard on his leg, feeling the bone break with the heavy hit. A dark chuckle from the Elder as he let go of Stefan again. Only for that chuckle to suddenly become garbled. But Stefan was too busy curled up in pain to see what was happening now.

Ronove held the Elder in his clawed gargoyle hand while most of him had retained the elezen appearance. Ronove’s eyes were no longer staring blankly and there was a very clear snarl coming from him. The Elder found himself thrown away from Stefan.

Stefan didn’t even manage to catch the ‘I’m sorry…’ before he was jolted awake. Gasping and wincing at the pain the sudden movements caused. Feeling his leg for any broken bones despite how much moving hurt. Thankfully nothing felt broken. Yet he was definitely sore and tender all over. He could see the bruises starting to blossom.

Reaching for his linkpearl. His first call was to Sahji. Even if he didn’t feel anything seriously wrong, he wanted to make sure. Sahji could at least fix anything that had remained from the nightmare he’d survived.

His second call was to Ely. This time things had been worse. It was time to finally accept her offer to find a way to guard against these dream trips. Even if it didn’t end up being a perfect solution, he needed something to help against another trip like this. 

Rubbing at his sore neck as he laid back against the pillow. It was doubtful he was going back to sleep anytime soon right now. Not after that fright. 

Hearing his linkpearl, he picked it up. Ronove this time. Silent for a long moment as he tried to decide what to say to the other. It was clear in Ronove’s concern that he didn’t know what had happened in the dream. Yet some part of Ronove had definitely awakened. Had he sensed Stefan’s pain through the bond they shared? Probably. 

“Don’t worry, Ronove. I’m fine. It was just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.” Trying to soothe the worry over his pain that Ronove was feeling from the bond. “We’ll talk soon. I promise. It really was just a nightmare. Get some rest.” It had definitely been a nightmare. He just didn’t want to make Ronove feel bad about it.

[gaoau]

Jealousy Spell

Wicked Witch warnings — none. word count — 2.6k

prev. — next.

Nationals slapped Osamu across the face the same way he'd backhanded Atsumu. When he'd glanced up and found [Name] remained stubborn with her decision to stay away from their matches, he grumbled curses towards his brother, throwing a seething glare the unsuspecting setter didn't completely understand. Three exhausting sets, plenty of improvisations, an impressive amount of getting their assess covered by their properly reliable captain Kita. Karasuno kicked them out of the tournament on their first and only game anyway.

Winter break and nationals had teamed up to force a stop to any visits he could make to [Name] as she played around with her instruments. Now back home from the bustling city of Tokyo, Osamu barged into the music clubroom after more than a week of not being in her presence. Her hands used the piano keys as a dance floor, her fingers taking light and feathery steps over black and white to create a melody familiar to his ears. He'd grown tired of hearing it in only one day, but when it flowed from [Name], he couldn't say it annoyed him anymore.

He stood stunned by the open door, shivers crawling up and down his spine, goosebumps erupting on every inch of skin while listening to [Name] so willingly play the Inarizaki cheer. She threw a glance over her shoulder to motion him inside. He hurried to close the door behind him, stepping into the room and drowning in the sound of her music.

Her voice rose above the noise, "Heard ya guys lost in the first game." Well, now, why would she say that? It stung. Just a bit, but it stung. Osamu had to admit [Name] held no regards for feelings at times. "I don't think I can cheer you up—" he could argue against that, but he wouldn't speak, "—Better luck next year, Osamu."

A smile tugged at his lips as he walked closer to her and her music. "Only if yer there in the band," he blurted almost involuntarily, but still thanked his tongue for having a mind of its own.

[Name]'s shoulder bounced once with the remnants of a puffed chuckle. Her hands never ceased movement as they produced chords that shook him to his core. "Guess you're gonna lose again."

His brain halted all functions while his eyes darted between [Name] and the small space left at the piano seat she was using. He knew not to overthink his following actions any more than he should have; the more he pondered, the more anxiety built up at the pit of his stomach to eat him up from the inside. It didn't take much courage to sit down, yet his limbs trembled when he nudged her with his hip to create himself a place beside her. She hopped to the side, fingers stuck to the keys as if they'd become an extension of her person. This was the closest they had ever been together and he could feel his heart pounding to the beat of the cheer.

She didn't seem to mind; she chose to ignore his stiff posture and the thumping from deep within his ribcage. Osamu relished in the peace she brought upon him with nothing but vibrations in the air. He slumped his shoulders to relax into the music. "Maybe s'fine if you cheer fer me privately like this."

She stole a glance at him and the peaceful simper resting on his lips. "Don't get too comfortable; I don't like this piano rendition." So she said, but she still saw it through to the end until Osamu forgot completely about his loss.

About a week or so before the third-years' graduation—perhaps even before that, Osamu can't quite remember—he'd mirthfully climbed the stairs up to the third floor and practically skipped towards the music clubroom to visit his beloved [Name]. As per routine, he'd stopped by the vending machine to buy two drinks for the two of them, and felt extra generous as he put in some more coins to get a snack that they could share. Already approaching the room, he could easily recognize the lack of music coming from it. No strings being strummed, no keys being played, no drums being slammed, nothing at all.

His hand halted midway to the door's handle when he heard an unfamiliar voice reaching him from the inside. "—gin' ya." He caught only the last few syllables and the fact that it was a boy.

"No," came [Name]'s sharp reply.

"I need ya, [Surname]."

"I refuse."

"Please."

"Not a chance."

"Yer the only one fit for it."

What on Earth was happening in there? Was [Name] getting harassed? Should he step in?

Her sharp tone became dismissive as she spoke, "You don't know that. Some first-year might join."

"Ya don't know that either."

"Not my problem."

"[Surname], I'm begging you. Yer my only hope."

She sucked air in through her teeth, then smacked her lips. "It's looking pretty bad for you."

"C'mon—" Osamu heard a smack and the way [Name] whined in unexpected pain, "—yer just gonna throw yer talent to waste like that?"

"Gakuhou, I'll be directing for other teams. Just not Miya Atsumu's."

"Listen, I understand where yer comin' from, but I need ya right now. I wanna leave knowing that I fulfilled my role in the band."

Silence fell in an instant. If Osamu could've taken a quick, innocent peek inside, he would've forever treasured the sight of [Name]'s pouting lips and her brows furrowed in conflict. On one hand, her upperclassman; on the other hand, her pride. It didn't take her long to give in with a defeated sigh, "…Alright. If there ain't no first-years to take up band director for the boys' volleyball team, I'll do it."

"It might be too late, though. I need ya to confirm it now, please, [Surname]."

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

"Ya'll burn it by then."

"I like arson."

Osamu blinked bemused at the sound of laughter exploding between them. Of course, the joke was kind of, sort of, a smidge funny—he tried to convince himself, but he simply didn't get it—and behind that closed door those two were cackling the air out of their lungs. [Name] was very loudly and very freely chortling to her heart's content alongside another person. Osamu had thought she didn't have any friends.

Heavy footsteps he knew were not [Name]'s approached the door, and the same male voice quieted down into a few chuckles. "Please, think it over, [Surname]." The door slid open right before Osamu's eyes, not giving him a chance to pretend he hadn't been listening in on their undoubtedly extremely friendly conversation. Short, black hair, matching eyes, average height—meaning Osamu was taller—charming smile. It was the band director he'd seen instead of [Name] at every one of his games. Did [Name] like older people?

"Okay, I'll try." Gakuhou flung a nod inside the classroom towards his underclassman, giving her a grateful thumbs-up to solidify his plea. He glanced at Osamu, grinned at him as he recognized him from the volleyball team, and strolled down the hallway, feeling accomplished from his interaction with [Name]. Osamu entered the room with drooping eyebrows that [Name] didn't pay any heed to.

[Name] slams her palm repeatedly on the dinner table, losing the air in her lungs to roaring cackles. Her voice rises in pitch as she screeches, "I remember this! You looked so sad!" Osamu glares at her through narrowed eyes. His wife laughs her ass off at the expense of his poor high-school self; that pitiful soul who firmly believed he'd been fighting a battle he had already lost. "You looked like a kicked puppy on the side of the road."

"I'm regrettin' this marriage."

"Oh, baby…!"

Spring fluttered cherry blossoms onto the Inarizaki campus, storming and whirling around students searching for new beginnings with diplomas in their hands. Shedding tears, realized smiles, comforting pats on the backs of underclassmen that didn't get to spend enough time with their seniors before graduation, but their friendships and mentoring lived a whole life by themselves. The third-years of the volleyball team, surrounded by teammates they played beside for a year and even more, declared their final goodbyes to their high-school careers.

Osamu exchanged words of farewell and comments about the future with his upperclassmen—Aran, Kita, Oomimi, Akagi, he valued them all, feeling the weight of their leaving. But he couldn't help the straying of his eye as it followed [Name]'s bored face heading back into the school building. Squared shoulders, straight spine, that sharp air of her essence she carried with herself and only Osamu could appreciate. Ahead of her, her band director lead the way upstairs towards the rooftop.

He had his hands full handling Ginjima's waterfalls and Atsumu's imminent breakdown, knowing Suna would've left them to their own fragile devices if unsupervised. He only glanced at the pair before handing Ginjima another tissue.

Later, when the bustle had calmed down and graduated students had exited the premises officially, Osamu's attention darted to [Name] like a magnet would pull the weakest metal. She strolled past him without sparing him a single greeting, as if outside the music clubroom they were nothing more than strangers. Delicately between those pianist fingers, she held a button, admiring it and grinning at it with adoration he'd never seen scrawled over her features.

Renewed rumors caught up to their victims about a year later from their birth. With the lack of any first-years interested in filling the role of band director, [Name] grumbled and cursed, but still fulfilled her promise to her dearest senior. She bit her tongue and held back her temper when Atsumu demanded utter silence during his serves. People saw, people assumed, people talked.

Every time her band failed to respond to her, instead following the captain on the court, her lips pursed into a twitching grimace. Her eyes cried poison when she shot a seething glower down to the court, but it soon vanished as she caught Osamu's discreet thumbs-up. One resetting sigh and she returned to her job accordingly.

The Wicked Witch and one of the Miya twins. Students wondered with dying curiosity whatever had happened between the two of them to reach this development. Rumors darted from the hallways through the air and into the gym. The Wicked Witch did not protest against Atsumu's swelling ego because of their tight-knit relationship. After all, it was none other than Atsumu the Miya that visited [Name] at the music clubroom on the daily. What other explanation could the masses find than they were very clearly dating?

Suna—bless his gossiping nature—brought the whispers on school grounds to one early morning training. He smirked at Atsumu with narrowed eyes, relishing in the amusement of the situation. Atsumu, who loathed the Wicked Witch with a burning passion; Osamu, who had a lovesick crush on [Surname] [Name]. Of course, Osamu had never come clean about his feelings, but that one battle to the death with his brother and his frequent escapades to the music clubroom, were enough to reach the simple conclusion that he was head over heels for that girl.

Suna knew. And Suna enjoyed throwing gasoline into a raging bonfire—Suna also liked arson.

He patted Atsumu's back with his open palm, his whistling echoing through the gym. "Congrats, Atsumu. You and the Wicked Witch, huh? Who knew?" He glanced at Osamu for a reaction, just in time to witness the life drain from his gaze as he contemplated murder for the umpteenth time in his life. Suna's job was done and he cheerfully skipped away to let a nuclear war explode behind him.

Osamu could only intently stare at [Name] as she slammed down on her bass. Suna's comment resounded in his mind and his desire for answers died at the tip of his tongue. On a regular day, he would've wondered how her music would sound if her instrument were plugged for the whole school to hear. The strings rang muted, reaching only his ears, while she bounced on the balls of her feet to the beat of her melodies. Her fingers danced and sprinted at speeds he couldn't keep up with when his focus stood elsewhere.

The clicking of her tongue slapped him across the face while she stumbled over the tabs written on her papers. She squinted at her scribbled notes, chewing on her bottom lip as if it would help her decipher the hieroglyphs of her handwriting any better. He saw the way her eyes glared into him and how her mouth moved, her hand stretching out towards him. No sound left her at any moment; or at least none that reached him. Until she snapped her fingers.

"What?" He shook himself out of his daze, blinking repeatedly to regain control over his consciousness.

"My pen? Can you pass it here?" She motioned towards her open pencil case, pens and highlighters overflowing from the zipper. Osamu snatched the black pen separated from the rest and tossed it into her palm. [Name] cocked a questioning brow as she scanned him up and down. "You good? Yer looking kinda constipated." If he'd heard concern in her voice, he might've been mistaken. She turned back to the errors plastered in ink and began fixing the details of her music with a shrug.

The words tumbled out of his tongue before he could even process them, "Are'ya datin' my brother?"

Every last muscle in [Name]'s body froze in an instant upon hearing him speak complete bullshit. She craned her neck towards him, glower flashing with that same venom she saved for Atsumu's demise. "Why the fuck would I do that?" Her rotten tone stabbed into his chest almost as if his hair had turned blond. The same way she'd growled at Atsumu on their first encounter, she now snarled at him.

"S'what I heard."

"Do they ever shut up?" She rolled her eyes along with an exasperated sigh to manifest the exhaustion dealing with constant whispers following her down the hallways brought.

"So yer not?"

"Fuck, no, I'm not."

Silence seeped into the room, leaving only the faint noise of [Name]'s pen running across the papers. The chance for his agonizing curiosity to be quenched once and for all presented itself at the palm of his hand; he had to grasp it, he could grasp it, allow his tongue to do the rolling and his vocal chords to do the talking. He breathed in deeply to pretend the air was courage. "D'ya like—Are'ya into anyone?"

"No."

And she replied as sharply as she'd always done, holding no consideration for feelings he might've been keeping hidden to not scare her away. But he could never find any fact or fiction behind her statements; did she really not have anything for his brother? Or even worse, for the graduated band director? She seemed to be closer to him than she'd ever felt to Osamu.

"You?"

"Yeah," he blurted out on instinct. A witch, a mage, a wizard, whatever [Name] was, she never failed to force the truth out of him before he could realize it. Osamu didn't mind at all. He gazed at her and the swift movements of her wrist gliding across her scribbles, her fingers fiddling with the bass strings, and the hairs she tucked behind her ear to clear her sight. A lovestruck simper lifted the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I am."

[rocorambles]

Know Your Place

Pairing: Naoya x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Misogyny, Abuse, Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Feet Stepping

Summary: You should have known better than to believe that Toji could protect you from the Zenin forever. Once a Zenin woman, always a Zenin woman and Naoya intends to make sure you fully understand that.

Growing up as a female in the Zenin clan means you’re always expected to serve, to look beautiful. Never speak unless requested to. Never look any of the men in the eyes. Obey. Be submissive and demure.

There are thousands of rules and dozens of leering eyes ready to punish you for a single minor infraction. So as much as you hate the life you’ve been born into, you know better than to act out and bring attention to yourself, knowing full well especially now as an adult woman that the price of transgressions are too high to pay.

You’d be incredibly fortunate for the usual heavy backhands Naobito and Ogi Zenin would grace your face with when you were still a minor, for the cruel condescending words Naoya would sneer at you. Those were child’s play compared to what’s in store for you now and you shudder when you remember the images of fellow female servants who had attempted to escape only to be easily captured, clothes stripped and body laid bare for the entire clan to see. You remember the fear that would make you tremble as the men howled in laughter and jeers as they took turns smacking their victim’s ass, pawing and groping her body. You remember sobbing when you were forced to watch as fists, cocks, objects that you thought were far too large were shoved between flailing legs.

But nothing keeps you in line more than the cold dread you’d feel heavy in your chest when you’d be forced to clean out the room of one of your ex-maids, preparing the room for the next poor soul born into a never ending life of servitude. As much as you hate this life, it’s still better than being tied up and forced to be nothing more than a Zenin sex doll, used by every man in the clan until there’s nothing left but an empty husk of skin.

So you keep your head down, ignoring the cruel words and predatory gazes that follow you. You enjoy the few moments you have in the servant quarters alone with your fellow maids, giggling and whispering to each other, pretending that you’re just normal women. Those friendships you form warm your heart and you take solace in the sympathetic glances and warm brief squeezes of hands when a Zenin man is particularly harsh in their treatment of you.

Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your body still when the woman who shares the same room as you accidentally spills hot tea all over Zenin Toji. And despite how terrified you are of Toji’s hulking figure and blood-stained reputation, you throw your body in between him and your friend, creating a feeble physical shield for her from his wrath.

A part of you is together enough to vaguely acknowledge how strange it is that Toji hasn’t roared a single word yet, hasn’t laid a hand on you. But you’re not foolish enough to think this is over and you throw yourself to the floor in a degrading groveling bow, begging him to forgive your friend, to have mercy on the both of you.

You know exactly who Zenin Toji is and you prepare yourself for the feeling of his infamous sword slicing through your neck. What you aren’t prepared for is the way he lets out a boisterous laugh, green eyes glimmering in amusement when he sees the bewildered look on your face as you tentatively peek up at him.

“You’ve got guts. Tell you what. I’ll forgive you and your clumsy friend if you become my personal maid. Deal?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you stiffly nod your head, tears forming in your eyes as you imagine the rest of your life chained to Toji’s bed, stuck in the lair of a beast.

Except your life isn’t anything like you had imagined and you’re stunned when Toji barks at you to go retire to your own room and get some rest so you’re ready to keep up with tomorrow.

Life is...surprisingly normal. Well as normal as it can be in the household of one of the top Jujutsu sorcerer clans in the world. You scowl at Toji as he teasingly throws a pile of sweat stained clothes and towels on top of your head as he walks out of the bath.

“You’re getting a little stronger, little lady. I almost even felt the punch you threw at me in training today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the slight quirk of your lips and swell of pride at his backhanded compliment.

Toji isn’t anything like the rest of his clan and it goes deeper than just his lack of cursed energy or his supernatural strength. He’s kind. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you genuinely believe he has a good heart. Not once has he ever spoken maliciously to you. Not once has he ever laid a hand even borderline inappropriate or suggestive on you. And sure, you don’t necessarily enjoy doing his dirty laundry, cleaning his room, and making his bed every day and night, but he makes it easy to forget that you’re just a lowly maid.

He talks to you as if you’re his equal, carefully listening to you, acknowledging your points (even if he mocks you when you do say something silly or that he disagrees with). He invites you to eat meals with him. He trains you deeming you too wimpy to last long without at least some basic defense skills. Your time with Toji is one of the few moments of happiness you know and you greedily indulge.

But unknown to you, your new proximity to the black wolf of the Zenin clan has more than one eye looking at you in interest and above all, Zenin Naoya can’t stop fixating on you.

Naoya has always had a strange mix of respect, disdain, and jealousy towards the older man and he can’t help himself from wanting what Toji has, especially when the both of you look so irritatingly happy chattering away with each other as if you have no cares in the world. How dare a lowly Zenin servant look so carefree. How dare curse-less Toji make a mockery of the rest of the clan by living a shame-free life despite how hard they try to humiliate him for it.

Has Naoya ever been happy? Ever been relaxed?

He can’t remember ever laughing as hard as Toji is now in response to something you’ve said or done. He can’t remember smiling so freely like you are as you playfully slap Toji and try to get him to stop teasing you. A green eyed monster slithers inside of him and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s making his way towards the both of you.

“Aren’t you two as unseemly as usual. I know you don’t care for our clan’s reputation or rules, but really? Parading your slut around so shamelessly? That’s a new low even for you.”

It’s adorable how you scurry away, cowering behind Toji’s broad figure, fear written all over your face. And although Naoya had done this to get under Toji’s skin, he can’t help but wish the older man would storm off and leave you behind in his clutches. He wonders if you’d be this scared and docile underneath him, wonders how tight you’d be while you tremble in fear while he sinks inside of you…

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Toji snorts, slinging a muscular arm over your shoulder and dragging you off with him, subtly tucking you safely into his side and away from Naoya’s hungry gaze.

Usually being ignored and dismissed would rile him up more, but as he watches the two of you amble away and sees your innocent and confused face, unsure what had just happened and what’s causing Toji’s strangely touchy behavior, his appetite is whetted and you’re what he’s craving.

What he hadn’t accounted for is how protective Toji is of you. So strange for a man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But Naoya supposes that’s just a testament for how good you must be in bed. He can’t think of any other reason why Toji would waste his time and efforts on an insignificant woman like you.

You’re never left alone long enough for him to corner. Just when he sees you by yourself and swoops in to shove you in a spare room, Toji suddenly looms beside you, green eyes sternly pinning Naoya down with a warning. And as much as Naoya would love to rise to the challenge, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Toji, so he slinks away in defeat, again and again.

It only makes him want you more and he grits his teeth as he slams into one of the whores in his bed who vaguely reminded him of you if he squints in just the right way.

He supposes he should be more remorseful as the news of Toji’s death spreads like wildfire through the Zenin household. But all he can see is a light at the end of the tunnel. It takes every last bit of restraint in him not to immediately hunt you down and devour you, but he bides his time. After all the teasing and taunting you’ve put him through just one taste isn’t going to satisfy him anymore.

No, he won’t just ruin you and throw you away after a single night. He plans on dragging this out, using you, tasting you until it fully sinks in that this is all you’re good for, that he owns every part of you inside and out.

His cock twitches at your swollen face covered in salty tear streaks. You look so pathetic, so scared when he takes his time strolling into your room, kicking your roommate out and locking the door behind him. It’s just the two of you and he feels the rush of power thrumming through his veins at how you tremble and cower before him. If only you were naked and not in those dreary mourning clothes…

But he has ample time for that and he wants to enjoy corrupting you, take his time watching your downfall.

“You’re my maid starting now.”

You mutely nod, but make no move and Naoya scoffs.

“I know Toji was soft with you, but let me set expectations straight. I’m nothing like him. Now get moving.”

“But this is my room-”

You yelp in fright as Naoya’s hand grips the front of your shirt and hauls your body until you’re forced to press against his body, feeling his breath against your face as he sneers at you.

“Sluts don’t get the luxury of their own room or bed. Toji spoiled you. Now move your stuff to my quarters. The only place you’ll be sleeping from now on is my floor or my bed. Understood?”

It’s a rhetorical question and all you can do is crumple to the ground when he lets go, staring unseeingly at Naoya’s retreating back as he exits your room, the weight of your new reality crashing down on you.

Sleeping on the floor is humiliating and uncomfortable. Naoya makes it a point to “accidentally” step on you when he gets on and off the bed, rudely nudging you awake with his feet, resting his soles on your face until you’re flailing around to breathe. But it isn’t as bad as wondering when the worst is to come.

At least you’re clothed. At least your innocence is still intact. So as much as you feel like nothing more than a dog, you take it. After all, your new life isn’t so different from your life before Toji aside from your new sleeping arrangements and the headache of being in close proximity to Zenin Naoya.

It’s entertaining enough in the beginning, watching you curl up on the floor like an obedient puppy, admiring how you never talk or lash out when he literally walks all over you. He even buys you a pretty new collar with his name engraved on it linked to a leash he holds in his hand or leaves tied to his bed.

But unlike a real pet you never warm up to him, always looking at him warily, body tense and nervous in his presence. Not once do you look at him with even the slightest hint of affection or fondness you used to stare at Toji with. He supposes that can’t be helped and he doesn’t care for anything disgusting like your love. But you don’t even seem remotely attracted to him as a man and that’s something his ego won’t allow for.

He knows women can’t stand his attitude. But he also knows that at their base, all women are sluts easily swayed by his good looks. He can’t even count the number of women who’ve insulted him to his face only to end up in his bed, moaning and screaming his name and their love for his cock.

You were supposed to be no different. But your continued disinterest in him infuriates him to the point where petty humiliation isn’t enough to sate his hurt pride.

“Strip and get in bed.”

You’re frozen stiff and he sneers at you while you’re on the verge of terrified tears.

“What? I’m not good enough for you? Don’t act like you aren’t used to this. I’m sure your old master had you warming his bed all the time-”

“Toji would never!”

Even he’s stunned by the weight of his backhand hit as it makes contact with your face, by the venom in his voice as he spits out his next words.

“Don’t you ever say that name in my presence again.”

He takes a few seconds to calm his breath, the crimson of the blood trickling from your nose grounding him as he finds his center once more. But then a thought crosses his mind as that red river finds its way to your lips.

“As punishment, let’s make sure you know what your mouth’s purpose is from now on. Words are wasted on a dumb whore like you anyway. Kneel and open wide.”

It’s oddly arousing watching your tears and blood stream down your face as you choke on his cock. Your efforts are half-hearted at best, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the instinctual way your throat flutters around him as he roughly thrusts his hips into your tight mouth suffices. He can see why Toji kept you around and he groans as his hand slips behind your head and pushes you until your face is squished against his abdomen.

Your mouth feels amazing and your muffled screams for air only add to the vibrations around his shaft. It’s enough to have him spilling down your throat and he keeps you tightly pressed against him, forcing you to drink every last drop he gifts you with. And only when your throat finally stops its forced swallowing does he release you, leering down at your pitiful form heaving for breath.

The bitter taste of his seed is all you can taste, all you can focus on as you greedily inhale much needed oxygen. You pray that he’s done, but you whimper when a strong hand easily pulls you up and begins to pull off your clothing. Instinctively you try to push the invasive appendages away from you, but you freeze at Naoya’s growled threat.

“Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have to.”

You know it’s not an empty threat. You’ve seen the quite literally broken bodies of women who had resisted too much against the Zenin men, against Naoya specifically. So you limply drop your arms to your side and stay still as he humiliatingly gropes and examines you like merchandise.

All you can do is clench your eyes shut as Naoya’s hands grab your breasts, kneading and weighing them in his hands, cruelly prodding and pinching your nipples to see your reactions. All you can do is bite back a muffled yelp when he forces you onto your knees and forearms on the bed, squeezing and smacking your ass, spreading apart your cheeks to closely look at your fluttering holes. All you can do is cry into the sheets as he fingers you open, breaching both untouched openings, his thick digits stretching your tight walls apart and taking their time to thoroughly defile you, using your own slick to loosen your ass.

You try to disassociate, try to imagine that this is just a medical examination. But your fantasies are shattered when something hard and thick slaps against your inner thigh as Naoya rearranges himself behind you, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against your dripping entrance, coating his shaft with your juices.

“Naoya! Sir, please. I’ve never...You can’t-”

Your pleas are cut short as his hand painfully strikes your ass.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining the mood with your sniveling voice. Remember what I taught you? Sluts don’t get to speak freely. They only get to moan and thank their masters.”

You don’t even know if you can speak even if you wanted to, not when his cock is forced into you in one go, the thick and lengthy shaft ruthlessly tearing you apart. It fills you, stuffing you full, and you don’t think there’s even room left in your body for words. The only thing you can release is a strangled scream, eyes and mouth blown wide open, fingers clawing at the sheets as you try to remotely ground yourself as the foreign sensation overwhelms you.

But Naoya has never been a patient man and there’s a certain sense of entertainment from watching you struggle and writhe underneath him. He begins a relentless pace before you can adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, hips slamming in and out of you, heavy balls bouncing against you.

You’re so tight, so hot, so wet and he can feel a rush of power from the confusion he begins to see setting on your face as forced pleasure begins to mix in with your fear and pain. Moans and high-pitched keens are finding their way in between distressed cries and he smirks at the way your eyes begin to roll back in your head, the way your hips begin to meet him halfway, greedily pushing back against him when he teasingly slows down his pace.

He laughs at the humiliation and embarrassment running rampant on your face when you whine as he abruptly stops

“Wow you really are a slut. You fucking love my cock, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes as you adamantly shake your head in denial, bored by your playing hard to get act. But as he admires the way your pussy lips obscenely envelop his cock, your pretty puckered hole beckons to him.

“You’re fucking filthy, clamping down on me like a bitch in heat from just a thumb in your ass. You like that? Like having all your holes filled? Maybe when I break you in, I’ll share you with the rest of the clan. Bet you’d love that. Love having cocks in every hole, using every inch of you.”

Your orgasm takes the both of you by surprise in its speed and intensity and Naoya howls in laughter as he resumes fucking you, chasing his own high with his thumb still lodged in your ass, groaning in pleasure at how he can feel the tremors of your orgasm, the way your body convulses in the aftershocks of pleasure and onset of overstimulation.

You’re breathtaking like this, fucked silly, delirious, just a warm body and toy for him to do with as he pleases and it doesn’t take long for him to join you over the edge and add to the sticky mess already inside of you.

With a lewd pop he retracts his thumb from your now lewdly fluttering hole, shoving it into your mouth for you to clean and he smiles at how mindlessly obedient you are as you suck and lick the digit clean like it's your favorite lollipop.

You grimace when he finally pulls out, already feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you and you try and find the strength in your trembling and used body to push yourself off the bed. It’s time to retreat with your tail between your legs and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the shower, harshly scrubbing every evidence of your utter defeat and conquest under boiling hot water.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You open your mouth to speak, only to quickly clamp it back shut, remembering how your words only seemed to dig you deeper and deeper into trouble.

“You’re going to wash me and yourself and once we’re clean, you’re going to remain naked and in my bed until I’m ready to use you again. Think of it as a promotion. No more worrying your stupid little head about cleaning and laundry anymore. You’re being upgraded to my personal sex slave and bed warmer. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You wonder if this is what it feels like to walk the plank, to approach your own death sentence as you robotically trail after Naoya’s figure towards his lavish bathroom. And as you lay in his bed that night, pristine and bare like a glorified sex doll, his broad arm possessively slung around your waist and forcing your bodies to mold together, you bid farewell to your past life, dreading what the future has in store for you.

[boom-bakugou]

‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.

Word Count: 5k

masterlist

You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.

‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,

We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.

RSVP blah-‘

Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.

Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,

Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.

Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too

Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has

Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time

Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me

You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?

Bakugou: what do you mean?

Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own

Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra

Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is

Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?

Y/N: you mean us?

Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot

The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

Y/N: fuck it, i’m in

-

“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.

“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.

You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.

“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.

Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?

“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.

“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”

“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”

“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”

Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?

Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.

“Katsu?”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”

“Yeah- whatever.”

Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.

“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.

Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.

Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.

“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”

The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?

“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.

Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.

Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.

You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.

After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”

Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.

“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.

“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.

“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”

It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.

“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.

“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”

Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.

“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”

His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.

“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.

“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.

“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.

“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”

Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.

“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.

“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”

His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.

“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.

Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.

“Y/N?”

You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.

“Hey.”

“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.

“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”

You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?

“Katsu-“

“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”

It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.

It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.

Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.

“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.

Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.

All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.

Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.

Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.

“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”

“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.

His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.

“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.

“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.

Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.

“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”

An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.

“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.

Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.

Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.

“Katsu-“

“Shut up.”

Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.

“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.

“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.

“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.

The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.

Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.

“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”

“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.

“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”

“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.

“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.

“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.

Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.

“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.

“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.

“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”

Uh oh.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“

“But I am better at you at something for sure.”

Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.

“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”

Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.

[notanotherreidgirl]

Hi:) could you write a follow-up to the blurb where Spencer steals readers panties? Like where she buys him his own

Here it is! This is a continuation of this blurb and a bit of a role reversal of this one. I hope this is what you wanted!

WC: 882

Warnings: sub!spencer wearing panties, blowjob, language

Spencer poked his head out from the bathroom door, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he gathered up the courage to step out. You regarded him silently, tapping your index finger against your leg in a show of impatience. He knew better than to keep you waiting.

This was the fifth pair you had laid out for him. He had been nervous at first, squirming as he modeled the various sets you had ordered and blushing a shade of red matching that first pair of scarlet panties you picked out. But by the time he was slipping into the third set, a silky baby blue with floral patterns, he couldn’t deny the genuine excitement he felt, the bubble of pride growing in his chest at the litany of praise you showered him with. His instinct was to associate being the center of attention with ridicule but there was nothing short of adoration in your eyes.

That should’ve been enough to reassure him. And it was. But when he opened the last one, wrapped in crinkly tissue paper, he felt his nerves return in full force as his breath caught in his throat. It was the most provocative one yet, intricate lavender lace adorned with a little bow in the front and a garter belt with thin straps that connected to matching sheer lilac thigh highs. His hands trembled as he changed. It was a perfect fit, sitting snugly on his hips and barely containing the hardness between his legs. He liked it - probably more than he should - and he couldn’t help the irrational trepidation that clouded his mind, recalling countless instances where he delved into one of his many passions only to be shot down by eye rolls and backhanded jokes. What if he liked it and you didn’t?

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy, baby” you called out and the musical nature of your voice instantly soothed him. “Come on, let me see you”

There was no resisting your call. He entered the bedroom just as he had before but this time your mouth dropped open and you shot to your feet. Your eyes raked over his form - the exposed top of his thighs, the fabric straining over his bulge, the dainty sheer stockings. Where to start?

He fidgeted with one of the straps of the garter. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” You took his hands in yours, sitting him down at the foot of your bed so he could see himself in the mirror. “I fucking love it”

He whined at the low rasp of your voice and shifted in his seat, desperate for friction. You climbed into the bed behind him, bringing your knees to either side of his hips and running your hands down his inner thighs. You pushed his legs apart as your hands approached the apex of his thighs, putting him on display for both of you to see. “Such a pretty little baby. And all mine”

You ghosted a hand over his clothed cock, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp out in pleasure and let out a soft whimper for more. The friction of the coarse fabric was unbearable and he balled his hands into tight fists in order to resist bucking his hips up. You palmed him over the panties, cupping his sex and massaging gently as you kissed a trail up his neck and under his earlobe, leaving matching purple marks that you’d have to help him conceal the next morning. His eyes were glued to the mirror but he could barely discern the sight before him, too caught up in the sensation of you on his cock, his neck, against his back. It occurred to him to feel self-conscious but he couldn’t - not with you holding him like he was the only other person in the world.

As his release neared he struggled to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember this moment. But you had other plans, pulling away just before he came. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty new panties would you?”

He whined. “No no no, please. I was so close. I’ll be good, I swear. I won’t mess them up. Please let me come”

“Oh my poor baby” you cooed, tracing his jaw with a finger and casting another look into the mirror. He really did look beautiful, the lavender of the underwear delicately encasing his soft skin. “You can come this time but only because you look so pretty.”

You slid off the bed and into the space between his legs. Something about this position felt right, almost worshipful as you knelt before him. You hooked a finger into the side of the panties and freed him from its confines. It didn’t take long. His orgasm wracked through him the moment you took him in your mouth and you swallowed greedily, milking every last drop before releasing him. He let out a ragged breath as he came down, unable to produce anything more than incoherent babbles to show his gratitude. You tucked him back into the panties and despite the overstimulation, he smiled when you pressed a chaste kiss to his spent cock over the coarse fabric. “You look good in everything, darling. But this? This is definitely my favorite”

Blurb Masterlist

[deluluass]

Then, the dam breaks.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; dacryphilia; mild infantilization

Kuroo's not a bad person. 

Not even by a long shot. "Bad" is willfully stretching out a leg, hidden like a predator among the bushes; hungry for an unknowing soul who's naively secured with their surroundings and the crack that resounds when face finally meets floor.

Or, murder! Murder is bad, he believes.  

No, Kuroo isn't capable of any of those things. He might seem like he has a mean streak about him. What, with his sharp tongue and that incorrigible self-satisfied smirk (according to Yaku) and his words that may or may not sting like a backhanded slap sometimes. But that's all in good humor. 

Well-deserved, too, when given to the right asshole. And if he does manage to get under the skin of the wrong person, Kuroo's not above offering an apology. 

And he means it. (Occasionally.)

There's no pleasure to be had, if anyone would ask. Because, again , he's not a bad guy. He's sly: he knows that much, though he wouldn't taunt someone into visible pain just for the thrill of it.

There's a method to all this. A purpose. Not a profound one, but a reason all the same. 

So he has to admit he's feeling kinda lost figuring out why, of all people, it just really had to be you. 

There wasn't much of an option to begin with.

Art clubs had already been full. The other ones, you weren't much interested in. And by the time you realized your homeroom teacher would stop at nothing to remind you that this year was your last chance to do something other than study and prepare for exams, for once— well, it had already been too late to reconsider joining those.

Then a flyer was handed out to you.

"V-volley," the boy trailed off. 

Try as you might but you couldn't recognize him. A feat, that, considering his blond mohawk that you could spot among a crowd of thousands. 

He seemed like he'd caught a nasty spell that prevented him from meeting anyone's eyes, even as you deliberately searched his face for any sign that he'd explain himself to you. Surely, he must have a lot to say after he'd outright ambushed you from entering the cafeteria. 

"You...want me to join?" 

You were on the verge of asking for more details, focusing on the black cat (though it didn't look like it) drawn on the center of the curiously damp paper, only to find out that you'd been conversing with an empty hallway. 

A soft grumble left you. 

"Weird," you concluded, barely a whisper. "Weird, weird, weird ."

You were the volleyball team's manager since then. 

"She's not much of a talker."

Lev hunched to his knees again, sounding very much like he's running out of breath.

It should've been Kuroo's cue to gently ( gently) tell him off, that Nekoma's ace would handle a minute of catching a ball with their face with much more tenacity than he does, or that Nekoma's ace shouldn't have to catch the ball with their face in the first place, period.

" Zoning out already, Ace? " he'd planned on jeering, but instead he followed the direction of the overgrown 10 year old's gaze. 

Someone was talking to you. 

Apologizing , was more like it, if the other student's incessant bowing until his torso fell from his body was any indication. You were outside of the gym, clipboard tucked under an arm, so it was impossible to catch a word you were saying.

Not that you were saying much. Or anything at all. You only nodded. And nodded again. And after what seemed like the world's loudest "I'm so sorry, senpai!",you immediately went back inside to refill the water bottles lined atop the bench. 

"Hey," Kenma sighed, the ball in his hand aimed for a toss. "Focus."

And the cycle of Lev being an utter disappointment to the blond setter continued. 

Kuroo let out a noncommittal hum, eyes never leaving you, trailing like a lost pup as you handed out water bottles to Nobuyuki and the others. 

"Not a talker, huh," he muttered to himself. 

How long has it been? Two weeks? Three, maybe? Kuroo could scarcely remember for how many days you'd been showing up to this sweaty pit to perform your duties. On the dot. Always. Without fail. 

What he does remember was the first day.

Chin up; head held high. You strutted into their lives as if you were leading an entire militia to battle and had no time to waste.  

He teased you for it when you'd already busied yourself with clean up duty a few minutes after your (short) ( extremely concise) introduction.

("Slow down there, general," he told you with a wry chuckle. He expected any reaction from you, really.)

(He just didn't expect you to actually slow down on your cleaning and pick up on the Coach's remaining paperwork right then and there, going through it like a forest fire.)

It would take him a few more days to realize that that's just how you are. 

Even when you rejected a tongue-tied Yamamoto when he tried to ask you out. For a meal. With the other boys, of course.

Even when you took a hurtling ball to your leg and lost your footing and had the whole team scrambling for a stretcher, only for you to stand on your good leg, tell everyone "I'm okay," and walk to the nurse's office on your own.

(Kuroo doesn't think he's seen someone limp with so much grace before.)

His throat suddenly felt incredibly dry. 

Water . Water was what he needed. 

Right. 

You didn't see him coming from across the court. You were sitting on the bench and your back was turned, scribbling on that clipboard propped on your lap, yet— like clockwork, your idle hand shot out to give him the last bottle to your left before he could even finish asking for one.

He felt his lips curve as he muttered his thanks around the lid.

"Say," Kuroo began.  

You were reading the things you wrote back to yourself. 

"Mind telling me what was that about?"

You paused. You blinked up at Kuroo. 

The attention hits him like a freight train. 

That clear as summer sky gaze, unclouded and bright. 

It's nuts how unreal it felt. How can something so elusive be now all on him. 

(Just for him.)

"Earlier," he added, licking his lips and feeling silly for the way his chest tightened. "Seemed kinda intense."

"He borrowed my notes," you said. Then back to the clipboard again. 

Kuroo made himself comfortable next to you, elbow propped on his knee as he rested his chin against an open palm.

"Got a test coming up?"

"Cram school. He's in the same class."

Of course .

"Of course," Kuroo grinned. "What happened? Heard the guy apologize to you like you were about to kill him."

Laughter bubbled out of his chest. Unfortunately, you didn't seem to find it as funny as he did. Pity. 

He sighed.

"Nothing too bad, I hope."  

The noise of ballpoint pen scratching against paper halted. 

From way at the back, Lev was prattling Kenma's ear off again. Kuroo guessed they were about to leave, walking away from the court, away from the gym and to god knows where. The whole team, too, for that matter.

Everyone seemed to have gone, diminished in that second. He couldn't hear them anymore, didn't bother to see if they're still there.

He was looking at you, after all. Really looking at you. Your grip on the pen was a tad severe, he thought; fingers determined to squeeze the ink out of the barrel. 

Your face betrayed nothing. Indeed, anyone could spare you a glance and immediately guess that this is just another empty chat between acquainted individuals, conversation just for the sake of it. 

Kuroo wasn't just anyone, though.

Chin up and head held high; as you'd always done. But Kuroo's close enough to see it now, unlike before: the gulps you take in between breaths; the falter in those eyes that only ever looked forward.

Chin up and head held high, but Kuroo sees now that the neck he could easily break with one hand is so tense it's essentially a string pulled too tight that's on the brink of snapping. 

Oh.

"Oh," Kuroo whispered.

Oh .

"He lost it didn't he?" Kuroo realized. "Your notes."

And it did snap.

"Just..!" You looked down and bunched your pants in your fist. "No. Of course not. It's nothing," you huffed, putting the ball pen's cap back on. 

You were leaving.

Kuroo stood up.

"You look upset, manager-san," he said softly, his larger frame blocking your attempts of escape. "It is bothering you, hm?"

"My notebook got-got ruined, sure," you said. "But juice stains aren't bothering me, Captain ."

There it is. You were meeting his gaze again. 

" Too late for that ," Kuroo thought. There's a stutter to your words when there had been none. 

Your arms are trembling and you look  uncomfortable. He should stop. He knows he should stop , but whatever it is he said is chipping away at that impenetrable wall and he doesn't get what's happening now but damn, damn if that tingle running down his spine doesn't feel so fucking good. 

"My bad," he chuckled. "Sorry."

He raised both his arms in a show of defeat. 

"I'm- it's fine," you said through gritted teeth. "If you would just— excuse me."

Kuroo shrugged a shoulder. 

"Sorry about your notes, still," he said. "Must've been important to you. We all know how much you take your studies very, very seriously." 

Kuroo smirked. "You shouldn't have let him have it then." 

That made you stop in your tracks. 

"What do you mean?" you sought, confusion breaking your voice into what sounds like the smallest it's ever been.

Kuroo felt his breath catch in his throat.

"He needed my help, though," you rushed. "I can't just turn people away." 

"Really?" Kuroo sniggered, eyebrows lifting in fascination. 

"Could've sworn you were good at it," he said; whispered it so lowly, you couldn't have heard it. But you did.

You heard him, all right. Loud and clear.

Because it was just like watching someone take a bullet to the heart. 

First, the disbelief. 

Skin, muscles, and ligaments weren't made to be broken like that. A person wasn't created to bleed to death. And when it happens, well, all one can ask is: how could someone hurt me like this? 

So you stand before him, immobile, disbelief written in those wide eyes, because how could he hurt me like this?

Then—

Then, the dam breaks.

Kuroo doesn't think that you know it; that you're gaping at him with tears streaming down your face; that you're falling apart and stripping yourself bare the more you try to temper those quivering lips with that cute little nibbling you do.  

Kuroo doesn't think you know it, too.

That no one has ever been as beautiful as you are, right in that very moment.

You're not a good person.

Not even by a long shot. "Good" is an open hand, warm and soft and prepared to accept anyone in need of it. It's many things, goodness, but it most certainly isn't a dismissive attitude towards a well-meaning person who only wants to get to know you.

You hadn't gone this far in your uneventful life ignorant of what people say behind your back. "Frigid" is one. "Indifferent" on a good day. "Bitch" when someone feels like being mean. 

It's not like you're mad or anything; not as if you'd built up some sort of resentment within you that now you've settled for being perpetually friendless. You have plans, is all. You just can't afford to be a constant helping hand when you've got so much to do.

So you take it. 

Be a sport about it, was what you've always been told. Stiff upper lip, as they say. You remain silent about it and you endure and maybe you shed a few tears later as you lie in bed and maybe you entertain the possibility that you'll never see the end of this loneliness. 

But that's neither here nor there.

The point is, this time shouldn't have been any different.

(But sometimes even the strongest walls can crumble. All it takes is one crack, then the rest would follow.)

It was a bad day. 

You woke up late. You messed up the tally in the first set of practice games. You forgot the homework you'd stayed up all night to do. 

And the person whom you've lended your notes to for the college entrance exams lost it. 

He lost it. Conveniently just a month before the actual thing. 

"I- It's nowhere to be found, senpai," he explained. "I tried looking for it everywhere but- but I.." (You don't remember the rest.)

It's fine, you told yourself. You're fine. You can do something about a little inconvenience like this. You always have.

But then Kuroo Tetsurou asked. 

He's an amazing captain; even someone like you who only had a rudimentary knowledge at volleyball could understand the level of skill it requires to do what he does on the court while still managing to reign in the polarizing characters in this team together. And like most people, Kuroo Tetsurou has never cared for you. 

That's what you'd always thought, concerning him. Even when there had been times when he'd let slip what he thought about you. ("You're so cold, manager-san," he pouted once after you'd refused to eat with Yamamoto and the others.)

So it blindsided you, to say the least. 

The way he looked at you, as if he's privy to your darkest secrets, like he's seen you at your lowest and somehow knows you more than you did. 

When he'd jabbed and poked at what you'd only later realize was already a festering wound. (" It is bothering you, hm?" he said.) And before you could think about telling him to stop, to please, please let it go, it had already happened.

(" Could've sworn you were good at it ," he said.) 

This isn't news to you. Besides, there have obviously been worse digs. 

But hearing it from people who think you're not listening and being told about it to your face are two vastly different things. 

(Maybe it's because deep inside you'd always hoped that not everyone disliked you. That even though you're not a good person, you're not entirely bad either.)

Right in front of you, swift and without warning, he spoke only the truth.

You just weren't prepared for how deep it could cut. 

"I have to go," you murmured.

It took you a few seconds to realize that you'd been crying. And when you did, you immediately wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, turning away from him and the others still engrossed in their drills.

You let your feet do the thinking, allowing it to take you wherever they wished to go ( not here. not here. anywhere but here ), finding it impossible to do so yourself when your vision is clouded with welling tears. 

You moved forward, never once looked back, until you ended up inside the stark darkness of the gym's forgotten neighbor. 

The shed has long been abandoned and had nothing but dust, a couple of furniture in disrepair, and the occasional bug to keep it company. It was good enough for you. You didn't need much anyway.

Except for silence. 

The breaths that you'd desperately tried to control shook like dried leaves hanging onto frail branches, much like your legs, eventually collapsing at the slightest gust of wind. 

All you needed was silence.

Crouched down, the feeling of bones reduced to jelly was a lot more palpable. And despite the pins and needles that you know would eventually appear like a vengeful mistress, you stubbornly pressed your knees closer to your damp face.

Stuttering inhales and short-lived exhales  soon enough filled the gnawing emptiness of the shed as you count back to the moment you'd started the day to when your classmate told you that he'd lost your notebook to when you'd been told of how much of a shitty person you are and you wonder how you would've changed your decisions and how could it have gotten to this point how could it go wrong like this what did I do what did I do wrong what went —

"There you are."

You clamped your mouth shut, clenched your teeth so hard to stop their chattering. How useless. 

The creaking noise of the door being closed— punctuated by the sound of the latch clicking, rendered that effort futile. 

Kuroo Tetsurou locked the door.   

"C-can you," you panted. "Can you please leave."

"I need some time alone," you said, every beat of your heart like the ticking clock of a time bomb. "Please." 

You waited for him to do as you'd told. Maybe what happened earlier was a mistake, a slip of tongue that hurt more than it should've, and he's here to apologize. Of course. That's it, isn't it? Why else would he be here?

"I- If you want to say something, we can- we can— later." 

It was as if the entire world had gone still. He said nothing; neither could you hear any hint of movement. You turned around.

"C-captain..!"

He was right there. 

Right in front of you, crouched and staring right back at you. His face a hair's breadth away from yours. 

Your legs shot upwards. 

"What are you- ah !" You hissed, feeling every cell in your body being incessantly pricked. Finding it impossible to stand on your own, your hands scrambled to get a hold of something, anything, maybe the almost dilapidated table behind you— only to be caught in between large, strong arms.

"Careful, now," he murmured against your neck. His scalding breath like frostbite, chilling you down to your bones until you were numbed from the pain.

He slithered a hand around your waist. With blood thundering to your ears, you bit back a shriek and pushed him away with all your might. But have you forgotten? Despite that indolent swagger of his, you've witnessed how this boy pushes himself to exertion for each match and beyond. What made you think you could win against him? 

And when you attempted to open your mouth and yell, he effortlessly covered it with a palm while hauling you towards the table. The thing rocked under your weight. It is amusing, what the fear of falling does to you. One moment you're thrashing your way out; the next, you're holding onto your tormentor for dear life.

"No one's gonna come for you." He shushed you like how one would when placating a rabid animal. "You really believe they would bother? With an attitude like that?"

Down, down, his hand sank to your thigh, kneading the aching flesh until all you could do was mewl out a hoarse, "S-stop. I beg y-you."

Because it's all that's left for you. No one's going to save you. Or maybe someone would. But, who? And would they, really? 

(Go on, then. Try. See for yourself.)

"Kuroo-san," you whimpered. " S-stop ."

(Would they even believe you? It's your word against his. Him . Their beloved captain.)

"Tetsurou," he only said, dipping his hand lower, wrapping your freezing legs around him. "Say it."

He's everywhere. Lips tracing your chin, teeth grazing your throat; all the while your weak, pathetic arms stayed on his shoulders, thinking he'd regain his senses because he has to. He has to. He's not a bad person. He wouldn't hurt you, not in that way. 

Even when rough palms are already caressing the sides of your breasts and you feel a bulge rutting against your stomach, hot and rock hard and large, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your crotch closer to his—

"Cap- Tetsurou!" You cried, trembling hands back on his chest as you sobbed and pleaded please, please, let me go, I won't say anything, I-I'll keep quiet .

He did stop. But he didn't let you go. (You're a stupid girl if you think he would). Instead, with a forefinger under your chin and a thumb on your lower lip, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze. 

And when your murky vision adjusted to the shadows, the heart that wanted to escape from your chest ceased its clamoring, arresting your breath with it.

The afternoon sun peeked through the crevices of the shed's wooden walls. Red-orange light revealed a pair of iris swallowed by blown pupils, only for it to pass and shroud him back into the darkness. 

"Say it again," he whispered, deep voice cracking. " Tetsurou . My name."

You tried to speak and protest once again but only a croaked snivel left you, your babbling becoming less coherent when he began planting soft kisses on both tear-streaked cheeks. 

"You've been all alone, haven't you? Keeping everything to yourself all this time."

He kissed your forehead and it was so tender you wanted to die. 

"My strong, brave girl," he breathed. "I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you. I- I-"

You heard him chuckle as he pressed his forehead to yours, felt it crease on your skin. "I love you."

No. No, no, no . You shook your head and closed your eyes and prayed to anyone who's listening. 

"I love you," he repeated, strongly now, as if he only realized it this time around. 

And then he kissed you. Just a peck. And then he kissed you again, deepening it to probe a wet tongue into your mouth. And the hand sitting lax on your neck felt like a gun to your temple.   

You remained just as you were, like a plaything to do with as he pleased, as you felt calloused fingers creep inside your sweaty shirt.

"Such pretty tits," he grunted as he raised your bra over your breasts to brush your nipples, rolling and pinching and pulling them with his thumbs.

He muffled the noises you made with his own mouth still when he continued fondling you. You soon enough tasted the salt off of his palm when he left your lips to lick and pepper bites on your neck, on the valley and mounds of your breasts, sucking and lapping the stiff peaks until he was satisfied.

You tried counting, one to whatever. And when that did not work, you tried biting your own tongue to rid of the heat you fear would burst in your belly. 

All that went to waste when he reached inside your pants. 

"Not- not there!" you gasped, breaking your silence and wriggling out of his grasp.

He cooed. "You'll feel good. I promise."

After hooking long fingers over the hem of your panties, he briskly parted the hair and lips underneath to pull the thin cotton over the folds, over the throbbing nub trapped in the middle. 

"Your pussy's so wet, sweetheart," he sighed, the tip of his middle finger drawing light circles on your clothed clit. 

It was so lewd and dirty and the fact that your panties were soaked with slick was enough to burn you with shame.

"You like it, hm?" 

Perhaps you whimpered out a meek "no." You couldn't tell anymore, heaving out while he continued to toy with a sore nipple as he rubbed your slippery cunt, preying on your puffed out, swollen clit.  

"Feel what you do to me." He squeezed your wrist and forced your shivering hand on his crotch. "Take out my cock, baby," he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck.

"Tet-Tetsuro…san," you cried. "I can- I can't."

"Yes. Yes, you can ," he said, not halting the ministrations between your legs. "You're a big girl."

As if held by a string, he guided you, wrapped his hand around yours as he— as you stroked him, scorching and thick, up and down, just like that . 

"Good girl. My good little girl," he groaned, parting your panties to the side to tease your dripping hole. 

You wept harder, the inevitable only a few seconds away from you. A single finger, at first. And when he added a second one, you realized you preferred having a hand on your mouth than his lips on yours.

(Because then you wouldn't have to think of an excuse why you're suddenly swirling and brushing your tongue in time with his.) 

For a while there had been nothing but the sound of two wet lips pursing against each other (along with those embarrassing squelching noises). 

He treated you as if you were made of porcelain, your plush walls stroked oh so gently as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he ended the kiss and removed your hand from his cock, spit and pre-cum connecting you to him, he still handled you as if you would break at the drop of a hat.

That's why it snuck up on you, what happened, after he brought his mouth to your ear.

"Don't scream," he whispered. 

Then, he rammed his fingers in your mouth. 

You tasted yourself as he forced you on your back, slamming you down on the dirty table yet still carrying your weight all throughout, never letting go.

The bitter acceptance of it— that what began earlier can only conclude to this , did not prepare you for the feeling when he finally thrust himself into you.

They say it shouldn't hurt at first. If it does then he's doing it wrong. 

You hardly know if it's relief or horror that dawns on you when you realize how he stretched you out so easily, despite his size. Because, by all means, this should be wrong. This is wrong. 

"Gonna ruin you," he panted. "Gonna ruin you and— fuck put you back together myself."

He grinded his cock inside you deep and slow and when he hit that spot you couldn't control yourself from jackknifing so hard he had to hold you down. He does this mercilessly, pace growing more delirious until you're nothing but a choked and sputtering fool around his fingers.

"I won't ever leave you. I’m here," he cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your face as you bawled and shattered in his embrace. "I’m here ."

"So cry all you want."

[abbynx]

0 to 100 real quick

La Squadra reacting to a usually silent, patient teammate snapping and going off

Genre: Platonic, just the bois being bros, definitely a self-projection, comfort

Warning: Cursing, mentions of breakup and manipulation 

Your phone rang for the umpteenth time, the stubborn caller failing to realise how many times you've wordlessly made it clear you want nothing to do with him. All you ask of him was to finally leave you alone and yet he continues to persistently pest you. Your will power proved itself mighty to be tolerating his nineteenth call in five minutes.

It was your ex being a stubborn son of a bitch who has a lot of time in his hands, constantly asking you to pick up the phone and let him 'smooth out and explain' his recent relationship with his 'friends' behind your back. You were nowhere near stupid, nor gullible after joining the mob. despite your outward appearance as an innocent, average civilian you've hardened over time with the help of your career and turning your feelings off was no longer a challenge. Over time it simply became a light switch.

After his recent actions came to light, you bear to hesitation to break it off. For a moment you felt guilty when he gave his explanation to why he started seeing other people without you knowing; of course you knew what you were getting into when you signed your soul away to the devil to work in this line of career, you were constantly faced with death and lacked the time to spend time with him. He had no knowledge about what you do for a living, but you knew how to make it clear you were never going to be a simple one-call-away. But over time you've finally gained some self-worth and self-preservation to see through his guilt tripping, before you dropped his ass.

Now you were here, rejecting his calls before pocketing it back in your pants before resuming the movie night. Even putting the phone on silent it continued to bother everyone around you as you continued to nonchalantly press the reject call button.

How can you be this patient, the rest of the team questions but the answer lay before them. Risotto hired the timid assassin with potential for their unwavering patience and swift wits to wiggle them selves out of severe situations, something the time could use to be honest especially when you have a ticking time bomb with no timer and goes off at random. Perhaps the question would be simply answered with a short and simple one: "It's just Y/N being Y/N."

With the pestering phone calls bothering you for the past few days, your team can't help to be annoyed on your behalf and would like to chuck your phone into the deepest trench of the ocean and buy you a new one.

Much to everyone's chagrin, they watch you pick your phone up, however, what you did next was new and unexpected. Instead of rejecting the call, you finally picked up. Most of the time you'd politely greet, but today was certainly different. As soon as you picked up the phone, you wasted no breathe to speak and cut to the chase. All eyes turned to you, some were concerned, curious, shocked, or proud.

"Can you quit blowing up my phone, dude? Twenty FUCKING calls every second is getting tiresome. If you're calling me to 'explain' to me how you're not meeting your hookups then fuck off and get lost! what? Do you miss your personal ego booster? Well then fuck you, go try and choke on your own dick! Do you fucking think I'll believe your half-assed bullshit lies and pathetic fucking cries and bitching will win me over? You must be so fucking DELUSIONAL to be thinking you're worth the effort! What? Are you sad that I’m not a passable doll you can manipulate and mold to your liking? Is that it, you crazy son of a bitch? Can't you fucking get a clue that I'm over it? Huh? I couldn't care less about the new lies you've come up with to try and win me over, I'm done! Finished! Tapos! Ho finito! He terminado! Я задолбался! WHAT OTHER LANGUAGES DO I NEED TO SPEAK TO GET IT THROUGH THAT THICK FUCKING NOGGIN OF YOUR’S? CALL ME AGAIN AND I SWEAR TO ALL THINGS CONSIDERED MIGHTY THAT YOU WON’T HAVE ANY TEETH LEFT, DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND YOU FUCKING CHEATER? DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND? Good."

As soon as you finished the call, you calmly set it down with a sigh of relief. Peace at last. You adjusted yourself comfortably on your seat, wanting to watch the movie on display, when you felt you've made yourself quite the spectacle.

“What?”

Formaggio

- “Woooh, they went off!” His initial response was to high-five you for some reason but you accepted, nevertheless. 

- Very shocked and yet enthusiastic at how you handles yourself at the face of a situation like this. Not to mention, the build up! From you trying to tolerate the caller for the past few minutes, before picking up the call and gave them an ass whipping to remember for the rest of his life! 

- He would feel sorry for the person of the other side of the line if it weren’t for the fact he cheated on you, so good for him to be told off.

Illuso 

- “Heh, about time you told him off.”

- Silently supportive at how you handled yourself at the face of a situation like this and admires you for it. It was very entertaining while it lasted, now he just wants to go back to watching the movie. 

- Along that, he was shock that this hidden side of yours came put of nowhere and came out strong, which he thinks is pretty fucking rad. He now thinks back at the times where he gave you backhanded comments and how you managed to keep yourself cool under it... He now reminds himself not to get on your bad side, ever. 

Proscuitto 

- “.... Thank fuck you’re done, I was starting to think about throwing your phone out.”

- Extremely flabbergasted, as he has never heard you speak fluent in profanities, nor raise your voice at the duration of your stay in La Squadra. and addition to that, the fact you leaned on your seat and calmed yourself immediately as if nothing happened. 

- Nevertheless, he feels proud at you for standing up to yourself and standing your ground. You have always been the timid one entering the world of crime and he overlooked your development within this new and risky life style. Looks like his mentoring worked wonders on you and he feels proud of himself. 

Pesci 

- “......” 

- He was too shaken up to speak, he has never heard you be this angry and frustrated before as you’ve always kept calm in every situation and he admires you for that. 

- He is shaken up, sure but it doesn’t really change how he views you. You were still the patient person he has ever met-- he just happen to witness you lose your cool once but he’s sure that this won’t define you. 

Melone 

- “Good for you for getting rid of that guy.” 

- He’s just relieved that you’re finally done with the guy who has been giving Melone weird vibes the moment you told him about your then boyfriend. A few alarm bells rang in his head as you detailed how he acts around you and despite being happy for you back then, Melone was extremely vocal about his concerns. Looking back at it, he feels that his ‘paranoia’ wasn’t far off.

- He isn’t really shock, he’s just happy that you’re standing your ground and establishing yourself as a person who don’t need no one to use as a co-dependent crutch. After being around Ghiaccio, he really isn’t that phased anymore.

Ghiaccio

- “Fucking finally!”

- Similar to Melone, he’s just relieved your done with the phone calls and clingy boyfriend who is a walking-talking red flag. He hated how you didn’t have time back then to hang out with your other teammates just to spend time with your boyfriend to make up lost times, that often lasts until midnight and Ghiaccio can still hear you talking to your phone. 

- Ghiaccio cares about you despite his distant veneer, and wants the best for the people he cares about. So he was happy that you finally broke your relationship of with a guy who doesn’t deserve you. Also, he’s starting to think that your choice of vocabulary all came from him and is unsure whether he should feel proud or not. 

Risotto

- “Oh... Okay, good for you.”

- He blurted the first thing in mind, because he was just so shock at how you responded. He hired you for being so patient and calm at all times and now looking back, he doesn’t really see himself thinking that one day you’ll be going off without stopping to breathe and stutter. 

- Don’t get him wrong, he actually thinks it’s awesome that you stood up for yourself like that, but just give him time to reel back to reality. He just never thought you’d explode that hard. 

Gelato and Sorbet

- “See Sorbet? I told you they’d snap eventually!” 

- The couple was immensely entertained at your empowering speech being quite the ego breaker and worse-fate-than-death threat. They adore it whenever they see a usually timid newcomer becoming unafraid to stand their ground and tell their oppressors off, it honestly feels like a proud parent thing for them to see their baby kid all grown up and kicking people in the guts with their words. 

- If you would want a rebound, they won’t hesitate to set someone up with you who is far better than your dog-faced ex because they know that people are barely worthy for you 

[suspicious-whumping-egg]

Alec and Raina Part 19.5

A brief interlude. TW for referenced past noncon and fear of death. Enjoy!

Masterlist here.

Raina was eerily gentle with Alec the next few days. She began touching him again after the first day, and Alec settled back into the routine of pretending to enjoy it. Pretending it was Dorian touching him, pretending he didn’t just keep remembering Knox’s hands on his body and his lips on his own and the way he laughed when he made Alec cry out in pain. 

Yet although she’d begun to reestablish the old routine, Raina still didn’t punish him. Still didn’t hurt him but for the carelessness of how she held him close, her hands often landing on a bruise or scratch. 

And her kindness terrified him. He grew more and more paranoid as Raina began leaving him alone for longer amounts of time, began making more secretive phone calls that she went outside for so he couldn’t overhear. He sat on his bed, bleeding his feelings onto his sketchbook, as his heart pounded. She’s planning to kill me, she’s figuring out how to hide the evidence, she’s gonna kill Dorian too when he finds out— 

He heard the clicking of the bolt turning on his door, then Raina twisted the knob and strode into the room. He hastily shoved his sketchbook under the covers with a crinkle of pages, dashing a streak of ink onto his sheets when he dropped the pen he’d been using. 

“So what’re you drawing, love?” Raina asked sweetly. “Don’t try to hide it from me, you know how I feel about keeping secrets.” Although her tone was honeyed, Alec had long-since learned to sense the underlying threat in every word, and this was no exception.

“Sorry,” he capitulated, pushing the quilt aside and opening his sketchbook with trembling fingers. Raina loomed over him to scrutinize the drawing. Hands, outlined in scribbles of red, ripped a tattered body— his body— into pieces. Black blood dripped from the edges of disembodied limbs, an eye dangled from the fingers of one of the hands, his torso split like a ripped seam where two of the hands pulled him in opposite directions. 

His face reddened in shame, he could barely keep himself from snapping the sketchbook shut and running off to find a hiding place in the mansion. She knows I’m broken, she’s not gonna want to keep me— 

“Poor thing,” Raina cooed. “My poor, poor boy.” 

You’re one of the fuckers ripping me apart, don’t fucking go there playing innocent, he wished he could say. Instead he forced a shrug he hoped looked nonchalant. “I just need some time,” he insisted. “I’ll be okay, I— I’ll be yours again, properly, I just need some time—“

Raina pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry your pretty little self about that,” she replied. “You’re gonna be just fine, love. Get some rest today, but change out of those pajamas. You can’t wear them forever.” She pulled out her phone and clicked the camera open, snapping a quick picture of his sketch before sliding it back into her pocket. 

“Don’t post that,” he said automatically, wincing at the mere idea of his heart practically spilled to the world. “Please,” he added more desperately. “I can’t—”

“Someone’s forgetting their manners,” Raina scoffed, dragging a long nail over his jawline and forcing him to look up at her before turning away to leave. “But I won’t, it’d do no good for someone to recognize your style. I’m just going to send it around my private circle.” 

“Just!?” Alec protested. “But I—” It’s mine. You can’t fucking touch it, you don’t just fucking do that— 

Stinging, pleasant pain split across his face as Raina backhanded him. He had enough experience to hold in his real reaction, instead feigning guilt. “Sorry,” he muttered, although he truly was glad for the pain to ground him. “I’m just… I don’t want Knox seeing it,” he mumbled. Considering Raina had orchestrated the circumstances of the week before, Alec felt it was perfectly fair to play the “one of your friends raped me” card. 

Raina smiled sympathetically, carding her fingers through his hair. “Oh, honey, I’m not showing it to him,” she cooed. “You know I wouldn’t do that. Ease up a bit, it’ll be okay. It’s nothing to get all stressed over, just a little drawing. I’m only showing them ‘cause I’m proud of you, you know that.” 

Sure… Alec thought bitterly. But he simply nodded along, trying his hardest to look timid and traumatized— which required no amount of acting on his part. 

Raina toyed with one of the earrings on his nightstand, a teardrop ruby set in a thick rim of pure gold. “Aw, you look so sad. Don’t tell me you’re still dwelling on it. It’s time to move on, alright? How ‘bout this? I’ll have Dorian over today so you can get to see him, will that cheer you up? Then we can just forget about all of this mess?” 

Your best friend assaulted me and you want me to just forget? You think it’s my fault for ‘dwelling’? And now you’re sending my boyfriend over for our last goodbyes?! But considering who he was talking to, her words barely even came as a shock. “Sure,” he replied despondently. “I’ll, uh, I’ll try to move on. And I do want to see him. Thank you.” 

The words were clipped and sharp, yet Raina just nodded. “I know it’s been hard on you, love,” she told him. “You’ve just gotta keep trying. It won’t be much longer.”

Longer!?

Alec’s suspicions were confirmed— he was fucked. 

~~~

Taglist: @hopepetal @bastard-illusionist @painsandconfusion @dont-touch-my-soup @infinite-olives @onlywhump @warm-my-whumpee-heart @yesthisiswhump @crimson-wrld

[malleux]

☆ Day 4 - Prince Diluc ☆

-> diluc x fem!reader | royalty!au

-> fluff, crack (diluc actually loosens up)

-> warnings: dead parents

-> “pick a prince” masterlist

a/n: i’ve got nothing to say. diluc is ooc but i wanted him to talk through his trauma and loosen up for a goddamn second yk

You were known to be a rather reckless individual. You didn’t think much of your actions, nor how they would affect you. Your entire life consisted of lessons on how to put others first, so it made sense that you would hide your pain, putting on a smile that only a princess could possess as you went about your day.

The bandage on your hand caused too much attention. People were worried- what happened to their princess?

“Your form is atrocious.”

You lifted your head away from the practice dummy, wiping the sweat off of your forehead and turning to the doorway. “Well I’m sorry, why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

Diluc huffed and moved behind you, gently adjusting your arms until the sword was pointed correctly.

“Now, do an overhand swing at that dummy.”

You subtly winced at the idea. The leather grip of the sword was practically searing into your hand, still sore from yesterday’s injury. Maybe taking the bandage off wasn’t a good idea.

Nonetheless, you swung. Your blade sliced the wooden arm, leaving a substantial mark and even more pain in your hand.

“Underhand.”

“Stab.”

“Backhand.”

“Stop!”

You dropped the sword, unconsciously clenching your hand as Diluc stepped towards you. With a firm grip, he grabbed at your hand and lifted it to his face, inspecting the reddened and irritated skin.

“What happened?”

“Just a burn when I was with Prince Albedo, no worries-“

“An experiment, I presume? He’s always getting people into problems with his little fixations. You shouldn’t be practicing if you’re injured, it won’t heal.”

You scoffed. “Didn’t know you were my mom.”

If Diluc heard you, he did a good job of ignoring it. Instead, he moved to the side of the training area where you had a cup of water. He handed it to you and sat down on the ground as you drank.

You took your time with your sips, choosing to subtly watch as Diluc tied his hair up into a high ponytail. His fingers threaded through his fluffy hair and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel beneath your own. You sat down next to him.

“You don’t seem like the type to be into marriages.” You began.

“I’m not.”

You quirked an eyebrow, silently waiting for him to continue.

“When my parents were alive, they’d always talked about me finding someone and having some fairy tale wedding. Something straight out of the books they’d read to my-“ He coughed “-brother and I. When your father wrote to our kingdom, asking if there were any eligible bachelors, I decided to come. Maybe my parents can see my fairy tale wedding from up in the sky.”

“Oh, Diluc-“

“I don’t want your pity.”

You furrowed your brows. “I wasn’t going to pity you. If you would have let me finished, I was going to say that I think it’s very nice that you want to honor their wishes. They must have meant a lot to you.”

Diluc shrugged, his gaze fixated somewhere far from where you were in the present. “It’s not something I share, but I figure that I need to be more open if I wish for you to pick me.”

You nodded. “Tell me about your brother.”

“He’s here.”

“What?”

“Prince Kaeya.” Saying his name seemed to send a shudder through the prince, “He’s my adoptive brother. After the death of our father, our relationship has been incredibly... strained. And yet, as much as I want to absolutely despise him, he’s still my brother.”

“So you love him?”

“As much as one could love an awful brother - wait, wait, why are you standing up?”

You giggled and began backing away as Diluc stood up with you. “I’ve got to find Prince Kaeya. I’m gonna tell him you love him and wanna be his friend again~”

“Y/N, that’s childish- GET BACK HERE!”

Cackling, you ran back inside the castle with Diluc hot on your heels. You didn’t even really remember what Kaeya looked like, it was just fun to make the stoic, calm, and collected prince chase you through the halls to stop you from calling his estranged brother’s name.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s all the noise for princess?”

“Kaeya, right?”

“Yes?”

“Diluc said- mmph!”

An arm wrapped around your waist while a hand covered your mouth, preventing you from talking to Kaeya any further. Diluc breathed heavily behind you and you tried not to flush as you felt his chest press against your back. Kaeya looked at Diluc questionably, but the red-head only glared at him and pulled you away.

“You’re ridiculous. That was incredibly childish of you- how old are you again? Seven? That sounds about right.”

You gave him an answer to your age, but your sounds were still muffled by his hand.

“What pleasure did it bring you, making me chase you around the castle? Is this what it would be like if I married you as well? I don’t think- Stop licking my hand!”

He pushed you away and you giggled once more, wiping your mouth as he did the same to his hand.

“It’s going to be exactly like this if we get married, Prince Diluc. You need to lighten up a little!” You stood up on your tip-toes and pressed a featherlight kiss to his cheek, winking at him and walking away.

Diluc watched you go, his face growing to match his hair color. And he couldn’t help but think that a future like that wouldn’t be half bad.

taglist #1: @xenia-cenia @murder-and-mistflowers @osmiumtrash @rebeljustforkicks137 @heisenwurst @writingmi @dilucs-thighs @wiseeggspickleslime @cotton—candy1709 @emerald-smile @luckymuddypaw @mercurysmaiden @Violeteyesofevergarden @darthsokaaa @aaaaalona @lehra @peepeles @hopeless-path @chaiteabeebee @murderisfantastic @janieatlanta @naritecs @a-cutiecatie @hanniejji @optimestick @trashy-mctrash @9ineine @akatherinque @spqcebun @milkxteaa @spooderkat @4everanimesimp @asheseiler @hnpriscilla @m0na-l0ver @welcometomypersonalhell098 @simplysm1le @lumi-ying @y2ndere @2-player-game @craptainlou @myheadcanonz @Piprapie @calicolaaaa @Traveler-Lumine @starrysurprise @anime-read-write-repeat @mercuryxx257 @kiitsumi @mochidabells @thefoxsleeps @josmottt @justrandomselfships @fanfictwarrior @dai-tsukki-desu @hugthesnail @astro-anomaly @liyue-harbor @genshincharactersmaid @katkrusade @chiliboba

bolded users cannot be tagged

[gweasleycore]

pairing: auror!reader x ootp!sirius black

word count: 4k words

warnings: thigh riding(kind of), finger sucking, a lot of dirty talk, fingering, lots of praising, sirius Really loves your thighs, biting, choking, multiple orgasms, sirius is Big, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, slightly possessive sirius, dom/sub dynamic, pet names(angel, pretty girl), the use of the words length and walls (i'm sorry ok), fluff (ew), 10 year age gap.

a/n: this came to me in a fever dream, i woke up in a cold sweat & had to write it down.

-

from the moment you got up earlier that morning you knew something was different about him. you joined him and remus in the dining area for breakfast that morning, dressed still in your pajamas. you were surprised to find tonks and mad-eye there in deep discussion with your two housemates.

when she saw you, tonks jumped up to pull you in for a hug as you'd just gotten back the night before from a week long mission for the order. you and tonks had grown close in the last few years since she became an auror. you were glad to have someone close to your age working with you, even if she was a few years younger.

"this set is amazing where did you get it?" tonks asked, pulling open your untied robe to get a better look at your silk pajama set.

you could feel someone's stare on you and when you glanced over at sirius, his eyes were raking up your body, lingering on your exposed thighs and making their way up to your face. when he saw you watching him he didn't look away immediately like he usually did when you caught him staring. this time you saw the faintest smirk playing on his lips before he turned away, seemingly tuning back into his conversation. 

"uh, can't remember, i think mum got it for me." you said, trying not to show how flustered you were.

"tonks, quit flirting and get over here, you're on duty right now." mad-eye scolded, though tonks didn't seem at all phased.

"we're not flirting." you said with a roll of your eyes, turning away to get your breakfast.

"speak for yourself hot stuff." tonks said before smacking your ass playfully making you squeal. you turned to look at her just as she threw a wink your way. behind her mad-eye looked nothing short of annoyed while remus and sirius laughed, though you didn't miss the way sirius's brow was quirked in interest.

you felt your cheeks heating, so in order to save face you rushed into the kitchen. kreacher was already in there, mumbling about serving the filthy half blood, you.

"morning kreacher, have a good night?" you asked sweetly, despite his quiet insults. partly, you did this to be passive, but you also hoped that showing him kindness might undo some of his prejudice brought on by sirius's parents.

"of course miss y/l/n, kreacher always has a good night when things are quiet." he said, making you smile a bit, knowing that his comment was slightly backhanded.

"kreacher, you better not be insulting our guest in here!" sirius snapped from the doorway, making you jump.

"of course he's not, he was just telling me about his night, no harm done." you said quickly, looking over at him quickly before returning to making your breakfast.

"kreacher likes this half blood master black." kreacher mumbled as he left the room, making you bite your lip so not to laugh out loud. even sirius, who was shaking his head was smiling a bit.

the silence following kreacher's exit was strained and once you worked up the courage to look at sirius you found him, again, already looking at you. this time his eyes were on your mouth, more specifically your bottom lip that was still tugged between your teeth. upon realizing this you let it go, quickly focusing back on your toast.

"seems like it'll be just us tonight." sirius said, moving closer to you.

"h-huh?" you asked, distracted by his scent that had already wrapped around you, giving you the urge to move closer, almost as if it were pulling you in.

"remus has to go with tonks on a mission this evening, won't be back until tomorrow. so it'll just be you and i." he clarified, smirking a bit as he watched you swipe jelly over a piece of toast repeatedly, a mindless action as all you could think about was what his tone meant.

you'd been alone in the house with sirius many times, remus as well, never had he sounded this, suggestive.

"why do you do it that way? why not use magic?" sirius wondered aloud, his eyes trained on your hands.

"oh, i don't know, i guess i just like doing some things the muggle way, reminds me of my mother i suppose." you said, looking over at him. sirius's eyes softened, offering you a sympathetic smile. it had only been a few years since your mother passed and it wasn't something you brought up often.

"well, i think- i could be wrong- but i think that toast is thoroughly coated." he said, his teasing smile returning to his face. you hadn't even realized that you were still swiping that knife over your toast, too distracted by his presence.

you felt your cheeks heat up as he laughed at you. rolling your eyes you looked over at him, unamused. you pulled the knife up to your mouth, not looking away from him as you licked away the jelly, smirking in satisfaction when his laughter died down.

it was only a moment before he'd swiftly taken the knife from your hand, tossing it into the sink as he pushed you by the hips against the counter staring down at you with darkness in his eyes.

you weren't a stranger to this look, twice before you'd found yourself in this compromising position, you wondered how far it would go this time, as never before had it progressed past a kiss.

sirius's hand reached your face, tilting it up by your jaw with his thumb. he held you there for a moment, his eyes scanning your face before his thumb swiped along your bottom lip, gathering a bit of jelly before he pressed his thumb into your mouth. you eagerly took it, sucking the contents off before swirling your tongue around his thumb, not once breaking eye contact with him.

you watched him pull his lip between his teeth as he focused his eyes on your mouth. he seemed to have to force himself to pull his thumb from your mouth. but soon it was replaced by his own, and you couldn't help but find this to be an upgrade.

you couldn't help but tease a bit, keeping your lips closed despite him trying to get past them. groaning, sirius pushed your mouth open with his thumb on your chin and his tongue dove in, expertly exploring your mouth.

his hand fell slightly, resting on your neck now as he kissed you. his touch had a faint moan slipping from your throat and you felt him suck in a tight breath at the sound. sirius pushed your back further into the counter and while it hurt, you had little time to feel it as the feeling of pleasure that shot through your body as his knee rubbed between your legs was more prominent.

"merlin, you make the prettiest sounds." sirius mumbled into your mouth, pulling your lip between his teeth making you let out a high pitched moan. "better be quiet, the others are still in the next room."

"please sirius," you whined, moving your hips impatiently against his thigh.

"black! where did you go?" mad-eye's voice rang through the room, making both of you freeze.

"just getting a drink!" he called back before painfully moving away from you. you whined again at the loss of contact and sirius chuckled, placing a final kiss to your lips. "don't worry angel, to be continued."

that was the last you'd seen sirius alone today. he'd been in his study from before remus had even left and he'd still yet to come out now, at 2am. you waited up for a while, but when it became eminent that he was not coming out anytime soon you gave up and retired to your room.

now you lay frustrated and unsatisfied in your bed, cold because you stupidly decided to sleep in only your favorite blue bra and panty set just in case.

or maybe not so stupidly

downstairs you heard the door to sirius's study open and close before it was followed by silence. faintly you thought you heard him go down into the basement where the kitchen was before once again, silence. quietly you got up and propped your door open, just enough that if he walked by he'd see you in your bed.

it felt like hours before you heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. you quickly pretended to be asleep, placing the blankets intricately so he'd see just enough of what you were wearing to peak his interest but not everything. you heard his footsteps slow on the stairs as he got to the floor your bedroom was on and then you heard him stop. you tried to remain still, keeping your face relax as you heard him curse under his breath before he quickly continued up to his room.

disappointment filled your chest when you heard him go into his room above yours. you stared up at the ceiling, wishing you could burn a hole in the floor and make him fall down into your bed right then.

all of that was washed away when the sound of his muggle radio you'd gifted him flowed through the house, the sound muffled by the walls. you then heard his footsteps on the stairs again and you quickly rolled back over onto your stomach like you'd been before and shut your eyes.

you heard your door creek open, then sirius's footsteps shuffling along the floor right to your bed. you felt him grab the covers and pull them up. wait, up? what the hell was he doing? you wondered.

you could feel goosebumps rising as his fingers grazed your arm before he started shaking you lightly, whispering your name. slowly you opened your eyes, trying to at least attempt to look shocked to find him there crouched next to your bed. 

"sirius," you whispered, looking over his face that was illuminated by the candle sat on your nightstand.

"i'm sorry i left you hanging, mad-eye flooded me with work for the order." he said quietly, his thumb rubbing light circles on your arm.

"it's okay." you said back, watching him smile softly.

"i feel bad for letting you fall asleep needy." he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pushed your blanket further down just enough to expose your shoulders fully. boldly, you rolled over, pushing the blanket down to your ribs, trailing your fingers down between your breasts.

"i'm not asleep now," you hummed, "you could make it up to me."

sirius cursed, a smile playing on his lips before he joined you in your bed. you noticed then that he was in his pajamas, a grey t-shirt and black boxers.

sirius's hand found your waist and he kissed you roughly. the feeling of his hand on your skin and his tongue in your mouth sent a shot of pleasure between your legs and you rubbed your thighs together to get some relief. this didn't go unnoticed by the man above you. his hand on your waist trailed slowly down your body before he met the band of your lace panties, he hesitated a moment before pulling back. you nodded quickly when your eyes met, giving him your consent.

sirius trailed his fingers along your slit over your panties, sending tingles throughout your body.

"you're already so wet for me, angel." he said teasingly, putting more pressure as he continued to rub you over your panties.

"been waiting all day." you hummed, letting out a soft moan as his finger hit your clit.

"hmm yes, you've been so patient. waiting for me to finish my work like a good girl. now look at you, all dressed up in your pretty outfit, you were hoping i'd find you like this weren't you?" he asked, smirking down at you. you nodded, looking up at him innocently, loving the way he was talking to you. "well i think my pretty girl deserves a reward for her patience then."

with those words he pushed your panties aside, dragging his finger up from your entrance to your clit, circling around it before pushing one finger into you making you moan.

"there's those pretty sounds again, i've been thinking about them all day long. could hardly even focus on my work thinking about this tight little pussy and how it'd feel wrapped around my fingers."

it was hard to tell whether it was his words or the fact that he'd added another finger, quickening his pace that had your body bursting with pleasure. you could already feel the familiar knot tightening inside your stomach when he began kissing your neck.

"fuck, sirius, please don't stop." you said breathlessly as he hit just the right spot inside you. he obliged to your request, pressing his thumb to your clit making you moan loudly. if your eyes had been opened you'd have seen his satisfied smirk every time you got louder and the determination to push you further.

sirius watched your face tighten up as you reached for his wrist, grabbing on tightly as you clenched around his fingers, your walls trying to force him out. he kept his quick pace on your clit until your face relaxed and your thighs stopped shaking. you pushed against his wrist as you opened your eyes, urging him to stop, his touch overstimulating you.

"i didn't know you could get anymore beautiful, but merlin," he said, leaning down to kiss you. when he pulled back he took his fingers into his mouth, sucking the remains of your juices off of them as he winked at you and you felt a tingling between your legs again, despite just having came.

you reached for his wrist, pulling him into you for another kiss. he chuckled into your lips before wrapping his fingers in your hair, tugging lightly to tilt your head back. you rubbed your legs together again, needing more of him. as you did this your thigh brushed against his and you felt something hard. you then realized that you still had yet to touch him.

without breaking the kiss you trailed your hand from his neck down his chest to the band of his boxers. you hooked the tips of your fingers into it, pausing to wait for his approval. you felt him grunt against your lips as his hand moved from your hair to your throat, gripping it as he pushed you back into the bed, climbing over top of you in one quick motion.

"someone's eager then?" he asked teasingly, pushing his hips into yours causing the both of you to moan.

"i just want to make you feel good." you said softly, looking up at him sweetly, trying to convey how much you wanted him with just your eyes.

"tonight's about you, angel. i want you to remember this night for the rest of your life, that way anytime you're with someone else you think of me." he said, keeping his grip on your throat as he ground his hips into yours again.

"do you think i don't already do that?" you asked, making sirius smile wickedly before kissing you sloppily. "please sirus, i need you so badly."

"okay angel," he said, brushing your hair back with a tender smile, "okay."

sirius kissed your lips once more before slowly moving down your body, leaving a trail of kisses. he first took your bra off, admiring your breasts for a moment before making his way to your soaking core. you could feel your arousal all over your thighs as he pulled your panties down your legs. he planted both soft and sloppy kisses over your thighs, before biting down, making you yelp in both pain and pleasure.

"been waiting months to see these beautiful thighs up close," he hummed, licking and sucking over the spot hed bitten, "you're always traipsing around the house in your little shorts. don't you know what you do to me?"

"i was hoping one day you'd take me on the dining table." you said making him suck in a breath before he sunk his teeth into your thigh again, this time only pleasure coursed through your body and you hummed out a moan.

"i can't wait to have these pretty legs wrapped around my head," sirius said, kissing all over your thighs, "but that'll have to wait."

he stood up on his knees between your legs as he pulled off his shirt, revealing his toned body covered in tattoos. with a smirk he pulled his boxers off to reveal his heavy cock. you knew it was big just from seeing him in his favorite grey sweatpants that he always seemed to wear without underwear but nothing could've prepared you for this. he was by far the largest of anyone you'd ever been with and the thought of having him inside you had your mouth watering. he seemed satisfied with your reaction as he fell back over you, kissing up your neck to your mouth as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth.

"you're sure, angel?" he asked, his gaze softer as he looked down at you. he'd held off for so long, not wanting to pressure you into anything despite the way your gaze always seemed to linger on him from the moment the two of you met. despite the fact that you had outright told him many times that you wanted him, not only that, but you wanted to be with him.

sirius wasn't sure how he'd managed to catch your attention in the first place. sure, he'd been quite popular in his prime. but he was well past that now, and it was no secret that his looks had suffered during his imprisonment. and you were so beautiful, and kind and smart, and sirius had never felt more lucky than to have your attention. he'd resisted you for a time, not thinking he was good for you. but your persistence challenged him, and eventually he found himself slowly giving in to both of your desires.

"i've been sure from the moment i met you." you said, your hand grazing his face before you pulled him back in to kiss you.

as the two of you kissed, sirius trailed his fingers down below your waist, pushing them into you and scissoring them in and out to prepare you for his size. with your free hand you reached down between the two of you to grip sirius's cock in your hand, his hips bucked himself further into your hand and he let out a soft grunt. you pumped him for a moment as he fingered you and the room filled with both of your heavy breaths.

finally sirius pulled his fingers from you, spreading the wetness he'd gathered from you over his length. he positioned himself at your entrance before looking back up at you. you nodded, assuring him once more before he slowly pushed himself into you. you both moaned loudly when he reached the hilt, your walls contracting around him making his hips falter slightly.

"fuck, angel, you feel better than i ever imagined." he said, taking a moment to feel you.

"please sirius, please move." you begged, desperately grabbing at his chest and looping your hands around his waist, pushing back in an attempt to move him yourself. sirius chuckled, grabbing your hands from his waist and pinning them onto the bed by your wrists.

"as you wish pretty girl." he said before finally moving his hips. he started slow, gradually picking up his pace as he felt you get wetter around him. "you're so wet baby, making it so easy for me to slide in and out of this tight little pussy."

"fuck, sirius," you moaned as he angled his hips, pushing one of your thighs outward with a tight grip. "you're so big, feels so good."

"yeah? anyone else ever filled you up this good?" he asked, quickening his pace.

"never, nobody's ever felt as good as you." you said, pushing your hips up desperately trying to get him to go quicker.

"nobody ever will." he said, leaning in to kiss you. you moaned into his mouth when his large hand wrapped around your throat, his fingertips putting just the right amount of pressure. "you like that angel? you like when i choke you?"

you nodded, arching your back up as he added more pressure.

"such a dirty girl, always acting so innocent, nobody would ever believe me if i told them how you really are" he said

"only for- fuck," you moaned out as sirius changed his angle again, going in deeper than he had been, "i'm only this way for you."

"is that so angel? then i must be the luckiest man on earth." he said, his heart warming a bit at your words.

"oh fuck! right there, sirius, harder right there." you whined as he hit your sweet spot. sirius did as you asked, fucking into you harder and faster skillfully.

"fuck y/n, i'm getting close, are you going to cum with me angel?" he asked, reaching down with his hand that had been around your throat to rub circles on your clit.

you could only manage a quick nod in response as you could feel that dam about to break. with only a few more strokes of his hips you were cumming around him. your walls pulsing around his cock had sirius's hips sputtering and his strokes became sloppy. sirius's hand on your wrist slipped up into yours, locking your fingers together as he came, your name falling from his lips, tasting like the sweetest candy.

sirius fell between your still shaking thighs with a soft curse. the two of you lied there for a moment, catching your breaths as you both came down from your highs. with a breathy chuckle sirius placed a few soft kisses across your collar bones before he got up, going into your bathroom before coming back with a wet washrag.

crawling between your legs sirius pushed your thigs apart and you could feel his cum dripping out onto the bed. you looked down at him to find his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he stared between your legs, admiring his work.

after cleaning you up and doing a cleaning charm on your bed sirius crawled up next to you, looking down at you as he propped his head up. your eyes were half lidded, your hair tousled, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat and your neck already had the faintest bruises. you looked absolutely beautiful, and sirius told you this in whispers as he kissed you softly.

"how are you feeling?" he asked, pushing some of your hair that was sticking to your forehead back.

"happy." you told him honestly, smiling up at him.

"me too, angel." he said, pulling your body into his chest. "you can sleep, i'll still be here when you wake up."

you whispered an okay in response, pushing yourself further into his grasp before letting sleep fall over you.

[hydroponicjj]

No Body, No Crime [2]

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female!Peterkin!Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Mentions of Drugs/Alcohol, Swearing, etc

Summary: Rafe is finding himself having trouble trusting Y/N, even after what she did for him.

A/N: Hello! This is the second chapter of No Body, No Crime. Please enjoy and, let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist! <3

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

The entire drive over to Topper's made you extremely nervous. Your stomach felt as if it was in a knot that couldn't be undone.

It only got worse when you began to recognize the scenery of Figure 8.

It was unusual of you to be so anxious.

Usually, you’re hyper-focused. You don’t have time to worry about all the possible things that could go wrong but, Rafe made you feel different.

Typically, the two of you would only interact in passing. Oftentimes in the kitchen at his house when you needed him to help you reach something on the top shelf.

Now, you’re about to see each other in a brand new light. Going from strangers to...

Honestly, you didn’t really know how to classify this blossoming relationship, considering it hasn’t started yet.

Turning a corner into a neighborhood, you recognized Topper's mansion almost immediately.

It was the second house on the right with pillars and a baby blue door. There were tiny American flags pitched in the yard with small lights showcasing their entrance.

There were so many cars parked on the street and in the driveway that it was nearly impossible for you to get close without clipping a vehicle.

Finding a good spot near the sidewalk, you emerged from your car, making sure to check that it was locked (a habit you learned from your mother).

Drawing closer to the front door, you spotted Rafe.

He was sitting ominously in a rocking chair on the porch, looking out into the yard.

"Hey." You called out. He broke from his intense gaze and glanced at you.

"Shit, I totally forgot that you were coming." He pinched the bridge of his nose, turning his head.

"Well, I'm here so.." You trailed off, taking a seat next to him.

Instantly, Rafe began to draw away from you. You noticed but refrained from commenting on it, not knowing what his problem was.

It wasn't long after that the tension started to fill the air. You’re usually the one keeping your distance from him, not vice versa.

“Are-Are you going to say anything?” You asked, nervously.

You had no idea what made his energy shift from the last time you spoke to him but, this wasn’t the same Rafe that you saw that afternoon.

“What do you want me to say?” He replied sharply, glancing over in your direction.

You were taken aback by him, “Rafe. You asked me to meet you here. I have no idea what the hell is going on. So, I just— I wanna know what’s happening.”

He froze, inhaling deeply. It was clear that he was searching for the right words to say that would get his message across.

“Y/N, I don’t trust you. You might be Sarah’s best friend but, you’re also the sheriffs' daughter.” His voice was cold and distant.

He genuinely viewed you as some kind of threat. Less than 7 hours ago, he was more than willing to rope you into whatever he had going on, and now, you’re just a burden to him.

You scoffed, “You seemed pretty happy to get your drugs back this afternoon. Was I the sheriffs' daughter then?”

“I stole from my mom, Rafe. That’s not something you just do for fun. Especially when you have a lot to lose on your end, okay. So, if I rat you out, I’m going down too.”

Guilt instantly flashed behind his blue eyes. It was evident as his features began to soften and he lowered his eyebrows.

He began to speak but, you cut him off, “Listen, Rafe, I don’t expect us to go out and get matching tattoos anytime soon but, we have to learn to trust each other, or else this thing isn’t going to work.”

He chuckled lightly, flashing you a crooked smile, “Yeah.” Rafe replied simply.

The loud booming of music coming from inside filled the silence.

“Didn’t you graduate high school yesterday?” Rafe asked, quirking his head to the side.

“Yeah... I-I did.” You replied, still surprised.

You weren’t valedictorian like your mother planned but, you were pretty damn close. Still, it wasn’t enough to satisfy Susan Peterkin so, you spent the entirety of graduation sulking.

You didn’t even get a chance to enjoy your High School graduation.

A sour taste formed in your mouth as your throat began to get tighter by the second.

Rafe noticed your sudden discomfort, “Well, you’re at a party. Why don’t you go inside and have fun? Celebrate the milestone.”

“You should celebrate too. I mean- finishing your first year of college.” You acknowledged, awkwardly trying to shift the conversation toward him.

“I took a gap year. Too many things to do and not enough time.” He shrugged.

You were so entranced by the way Rafe spoke. He wasn’t like you, who felt the need to give the deepest, most profound explanation for everything.

He was simple.

You liked simple.

Standing up, you extended your hand in his direction, “Come on,” you paused, grabbing him by the wrist, “We’re going inside.”

“No no no,” he protested, “I already told my friends I was leaving so,” Rafe resisted your grasp, staying firmly in his seat.

“I think we can handle Topper and Kelce.” You scoffed, giving him a playful look.

Rafe knit his eyebrows together, contemplating. It had already been an extremely long night. But, he was having a hard time pulling out the response from his chest.

"Shitttt," He drew out, "What the hell. It'd be nice to see you pull the stick out of your ass and relax."

Eyes lighting up and a smile tugging on your lips, you yanked on his wrist again. This time, he rose from the rocking chair, peering down at you, "Don't make me regret this, Peterkin."

"How could you possibly regret anything when you're with me?" You sent him a sly wink.

Twisting the front-door handle, you entered the Thorton household.

Your senses were instantly triggered. Your ears struggled to determine which was louder, the music or screaming of teenagers. Your eyes reacted to the fluorescent light projected on the ceiling.

The scent was absolutely putrid. Sweaty bodies and alcohol were not a good mixture, not under any circumstances.

"Ugh," Covering your nose with your right hand, you peered back at Rafe. He seemed completely fine.

This was normal for him.

Watching as he maneuvered around this situation with such ease inspired you.

Rafe was a complete mystery to you. Although with every interaction, he became less of a riddle, it was still a challenge trying to figure him out.

Abruptly, someone from behind you yelled, tearing you from your trance, "I said that you'd be back!"

Turning around, you saw Kelce and Topper making their way towards the two of you.

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe responded, playfully, drifting closer to his two friends.

A mere seconds later, Topper noticed you standing at a feeble 1 and a half feet shorter than Rafe.

"Holy shit," He gasped, "A-Are my eyes deceiving me, or is Y/N Peterkin at a party?"

This caught Kelce's attention and, he certainly couldn't resist making a sly comment, "How's your mom? Is she still 6 feet up the Pogues ass or....?"

Scoffing, you began to walk away but, something caught your shoulder.

"Listen, she's a bitch but, not as nearly as much as you think." Rafe defended.

You couldn't help but laugh, “Thanks.”

Yes, it was a shitty, backhanded compliment. But, it was coming from Rafe Cameron so, that's the best you're gonna get.

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Commented Kelce, turning his head to look around at the scenery.

“Rafe,” Topper paused, “Are you trying to get even more fucked up tonight?”

Glancing at Rafe, you noticed how tired he looked. Drooping eyes and hunched shoulders gave away how he was feeling.

“No, he has other priorities on his mind.” You chimed in.

“Ohhhhhhhh.” Kelce raised his eyebrows.

Wiggling two fingers between the two of you, “Are you guys....? You know?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kelce. You’re a goddamned idiot.” Rafe rolled his eyes, pushing his friend lightly.

“Relax. I’m not gonna swoop in on your girl. Just curious who you’re fucking this week.”

Glancing up at Rafe, he appeared extremely fed up with the current conversation.

“Come on, man,” Topper said, pulling Kelce by the shoulder, “Let’s leave these two alone. I’m sure they’ve got loads of shit to catch up on.”

The two walked out of the entryway, side by side, and floated right back into the epicenter of the party.

“Why do you do that?” You questioned, almost instantly.

Looking in your direction, he responded, “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you began, “You willingly hang out with Dumb and Dumber,”

“You could be surrounded by people that are on the same intellectual level as you. Yet, you surround yourself with people like those 2 that are only interested in being so high that they can’t remember their name.”

Rafe shook his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

There he goes again. Being simple. Summing up everything he has to say in a mere 3 words.

"He deserves better than that." You thought but didn't say.

In your head, you could see Rafe walking away from the conversation and, you wanted him as close as possible (because you're not used to parties.... no other reason.... of course).

"This is stressing me out," You commented jokingly, running your hands through your hair.

If you weren't so hyperaware of your surroundings, you would've missed the way that Rafe was glancing at you.

He looked as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head.

“Come on.” He nodded his head in the direction of the living room (aka where 90% of the party-goers were).

You grinned slightly, “I was deprived of partying my entire 4 years of High School. I don’t think I should start now.”

You turned around and sat on the love seat in the Thornton entryway.

“You dragged me back in here so, the least you could do is sway your hips to some shitty music.”

“Maybe.” You smirked, teasing him.

“Alright, I’ll find Topper and Kelce. I’m sure they’ve got something interesting for me.” Rafe began to exit the room.

“Fine,” you rose from your seat immediately, catching his attention.

You shook your head in disapproval, “So manipulative.”

A smug look was plastered on Rafe’s face, “Yeah, well.... it worked.”

He shrugged and sent you a smirk.

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

You had never felt so free in your entire life.

It was surprising that such a wild atmosphere made you feel a sense of comfort and enjoyment, rather than fear and anxiety.

Maybe it was the fact that you clung to Rafe for the majority of the time.

He was such a social hotspot.

People of all ages and demographics were speaking to him. He kept the conversations brief and, it was clear that he wasn't very interested.

Nevertheless, he was dragged into a game of beer pong, and (with the help of Topper and Kelce) he agreed to play BUT, only if you did.

At first, you were hesitant, having no idea how to play but, there was something inside of you that hated the thought of saying no to Rafe.

You indulged him and decided to play, with the exception that you didn't drink, considering that you had to drive back home to the Cut.

It took a few tries for you to actually get the hang of things but, Rafe helped a lot.

He would often adjust your form, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you in another direction.

It made you nervous yet excited having him in such close proximity to you, whispering in your ear which direction to throw the ball.

Ultimately, the two of you ended up winning against Topper and Kelce (who were pissed that they lost to such an inexperienced player).

That was the beginning of the fun.

After that, you didn't feel the need to cling to Rafe as tight as you had been before.

You went off and had conversations with people that didn't go to your High School, which also meant they had no clue who your mother was.

You used to be extremely familiar with Figure 8 and you often found yourself missing it from time to time.

It was very nice to be able to surround yourself with people that weren't foaming at the mouth to run and tell your mother everything they saw.

It wasn't until you began to dance, swaying your hips to the beat that Rafe found you again.

"Y/N, I--I need a ride home." He began, speaking in a low but rushed tone.

"What?!" You yelled, not being able to hear him over the music.

You took a glance at him and, he looked horrible.

His eyes were extremely red and he reeked of alcohol and plenty of other illegal substances.

Not only that but, Rafe seemed extremely jittery. Almost as if something bad was going to happen if he didn't leave immediately.

Seeing the stress of the situation, you gripped Rafe by the arm and tugged him out of the hectic scene and into the nearest quiet room.

Finding a bathroom right before the kitchen, the two of you entered.

You sat him on the edge of the tub, crouching in front of him.

"Rafe," You paused, clutching the sides of his face, "Look at me. What's going on?"

Opening his eyes, he began to speak, "Please, just, please. Take me home." He buried his head into your shoulder.

You were stunned by his actions, having no idea what drug he took that made him act like that.

But, now was not the time to question Rafe, he needed your help and after all the progress the two of you made that evening, you weren't going to leave him behind.

"O-okay, okay. Yes, I'll take you home."

You stood up, continuing to hold his arm, afraid that he'd fall back into the tub.

"Rafe, can you stand? Can you walk?" You asked.

He nodded then rose, towering over you.

"Here," You directed him towards the sink, "Splash some cold water onto your face, okay?"

He did as you told him, gathering a scoop of water in his palms and splattered it onto his face.

After, he seemed slightly more coherent but, not nearly enough.

The two of you emerged from the bathroom. You were still clung to his arm, leading him in the direction of the exit.

Once, you left the inside of the house, you were bombarded with cars from all angles.

It then hit you that you had to park on the street.

As you led Rafe down the infinitely long driveway, you cursed in your head, upset at the universe for making you work against gravity in order to keep him from face-planting.

Finally, making it to your car, you reached in your pocket and unlocked it.

Opening the door to the passenger's side, you plopped Rafe in the seat and buckled him in.

You ran around the front of the car, trying to get back to Rafe as soon as possible.

"Rafe, do you have everything? Your phone, wallet, keys?"

"Mhm." He replied, setting his head on the back of the seat.

With that, you took one last glance at Rafe and put the car in drive.

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

Pulling into the driveway, you noticed that the Cameron household was quiet.

The only light coming from inside was the glare of the TV from Wheezie's room.

"Rafe, we're here." You said, shaking him. He had fallen asleep seconds after you started driving.

He didn't waste any time getting out of the car. Unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door, he headed in the direction of the garage.

As he approached, it opened.

"I know they're rich but, damn, motion detected garage?" You commented, continuing to watch, making sure Rafe made it inside safely.

It wasn't until you started saw him stop that you noticed a figure standing in front of him.

It was Ward Cameron.

"Shit."

You knew Ward was going to give Rafe crap for staying out late, partying so, the least you could do was try and cover for him.

Emerging from your car, you walked towards the garage.

"Rafe, I need you to do it, okay? I don't want Sarah getting involved-" You caught the end of what Ward was saying before he stopped.

"Y/N!" He greeted, a smile on his face.

"Hey, Mr.Cameron." You waved awkwardly, sending a forced smile.

"Thank you so much for bringing this one home," He grabbed Rafe by the shoulder, pulling him into a side hug.

"No problem! I just needed his help with some things. The least I could do was take him home." You replied.

"Yeah, yeah," Ward nodded his head, looking back at the door.

"Listen, Y/N, thanks for putting in a good word with your mom. We really appreciate it."

"I'm sorry?" You knit your eyebrows in confusion.

"I got a call from the station today saying the charges against Rafe had been dropped. All of us are so thrilled that we can resume a normal life and move past this." He placed a hand on his chest.

You had no idea what he was talking about. Your mom wasn't home yet. There was no way she could've seen the drugs had been taken from her safe yet.

But, you had to play it cool, not wanting Ward to ask any questions "Sure, sure." you answered.

"Okay, welp," He paused, "Have a nice night, Y/N. Come by tomorrow and see us." Ward finished, hurridly.

With that, he turned around swiftly and went back inside his house, through the garage door.

That entire interaction was odd. You had never seen Ward act so tense.

Also, you couldn't help but wonder what was so urgent that Sarah couldn't do?

It had been less than 24 hours and, you're already wrapped up in things you couldn't begin to comprehend.

"I need to sleep."

Walking back to your car, you entered the driver's seat.

Putting the car in reverse, you exited the Cameron house and began your journey back to the Cut.

TAGLIST *strikethrough it won’t let me tag*: @oopsiedoopsie23 @a-bolanos @cocobutterqween @gabiatthedisco @athenastarkey @halsmultibitch @water13 @avaspringtime @niamhvivo @haterpenny @nerdypartytrashpsychic @casually-kook @mynameberose @malfoylaufeysonweasley

[whumpwillow]

Hazeshift 3 | villain whump

previous, first, next

{ Chapter summary: things get worse } 

warnings: blood, bruises, broken bones, torture, violence, captivity, referenced past whipping 

// 

If there was one thing Lisle hated more than the newly captured villain everyone was talking about, it was pity. And he had received far too much of that lately.

He saw it every time he looked into the eyes of the people who knew him before, or those who’d heard the stories. He knew the rumors circulated through the building and the hero community. Davian and the others could try and keep that knowledge from him to spare his feelings, but Lisle knew just the same how quickly gossip spread, and how much people loved a good horror story.

Fine. He’d be their walking horror story—but by the sun and stars, he could not stand their pity.

He knew they were just trying to help, to be nice, to spare him the pain and the memories, but he wasn’t going to spontaneously combust the moment he laid eyes on the villain. They blocked off his access to the cell, but what right did they have to decide that for him? Lisle knew they were worried about him with the current situation. That he might break under the weight of it all. That he was already broken.

Oh, he was. Absolutely. But was that ever going to stop him?

Not a chance.

The guards and other attendants had been warned to keep him away from Haze’s enclosure, but it was hard to look for someone who was not there. Easy to slip past when you’re a shapeshifter.

Lisle disguised as one of the guards posted on the top floor, one that wouldn’t be coming down for a while to ruin his plans. He strode confidently past the watchmen and anyone else he saw in the hallways, and came to stand in front of the cell holding the man he hated more than anyone else in the world.

Haze lie inside. Lisle peered in through the one-way glass, staring openly at the figure slumped on the ground. He was so much smaller than Lisle remembered. He’d always thought of him as larger than life, an imposing presence that could intimidate any hero. Here, now, he was just a sniveling little wretch, so thin Lisle could see his bones.

He entered the cell and the villain flinched, curling further in on himself. Lisle grit his teeth, working his free hand in and out of a fist. Fold. Unfold. Fold.

A blinding white rage struck him then, filling his vision with red. His ears rang and he wanted nothing more than to kick the villain in front of him until he was nothing more than a bloody pulp.

He took a deep breath. Then another.

“Tch!”

His hands shook and he hated himself for it. Haze was lying on the floor, bloodied and in chains. He couldn’t do anything to him—and yet Lisle felt that same fear thick in his throat. The others were all worried he’d have some sort of nervous breakdown upon seeing Haze again but he was not he was not he was not ruined.

“My oh my,” Lisle said, taking measured steps toward the shivering villain. He wanted to keep his voice amicable to show how much this didn’t bother him, but it was hard to keep the tremor out. “Look at how the turntables.”

Haze made a startled, fearful sound and drew his knees in closer to his chest, wrapping his shackled arms around them. He knew the sound of Lisle’s voice quite well.

“That’s not the expression,” Haze said, with a surprising lack of the dread he should have been feeling.

“Isn’t it?”

Haze twisted around with a groan, then propped himself up on his elbows. His eyes finally met Lisle’s own, icy blue to emerald green. Lisle clenched his free hand into a fist again, trying to keep his expression neutral, but instantly regretted it when Haze appeared to notice.

He said nothing about it.

Lisle twisted his mouth to the side. “Hm. I remember you being more talkative. Always loved the sound of your own voice.”

“Liked yours better.”

Lisle darted forward and backhanded him. Haze’s head snapped to the side and for a moment, he didn’t seem to process that he’d been hit. When he did, he crumbled. Fell to the floor, hands over his head to try and protect himself, body coiled as much as he could manage. He whimpered but did not plead, because he knew it would not do any good.

Lisle knelt down beside him and set down the box he’d carried in with him. He watched the villain, a sobbing mess, brought low. He didn’t think he’d ever see such a thing; something about it made him inextricably angry. He wanted and didn’t want to feel pleased at the same time. This man had been hurt, and a good hero should not enjoy that, no matter who it was.

But he was no longer one of the top heroes. He used to be, though.

“What are you going to do to me?” Haze murmured, resigned. He turned his face to look at Lisle, who smiled at him.

“I’m going to help you,” he said.

Haze’s eyes widened, then his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Lisle picked up the box he’d set at his side.

“No, really. I’m here to take care of your wounds,” Lisle continued.

Haze coughed, winced, and dug his fingers into the uninjured part of his arms. “Why?” he rasped.

Lisle cast a glance over the villain’s ruined back, marred with scar upon scar. He wondered if Haze could see them that he would call them beautiful.

Lisle shrugged. “Looks like no one’s done it so far.”

Haze appeared distinctly uncomfortable and pursed his lips. Lisle opened the box, revealing the tiny white crystals inside. Haze jolted, even though the hero hadn’t even touched him yet.

“You—”

Lisle’s smile widened. “Yes. Salt is good for preventing infection. I made sure to get the good stuff too—pure sea salt, extra coarse.”

Extra pain.

The crystals were larger than average table salt and would scrape Haze’s skin raw. Lisle grabbed a handful and Haze shuffled away, tumbling onto the floor again. He watched Lisle with wide eyes.

“Please—no!” Haze cried.

Lisle worked his jaw. How dare he say stuff like that? What right did he have?

Lisle grabbed Haze by the shoulder and roughly shifted him around so his back was visible. He threw his fistful of salt down on the wounds and rubbed at them, using his other hand to push Haze down and stop his struggling. The villain cried out, screaming and begging.

Lisle hated the sound.

“Quiet!” he hissed, dragging his nails down Haze’s back, into the cuts.

Haze’s mouth opened and he drew in a sharp breath, his eyes glazed. Tears slipped down his cheeks, but he managed a single, stilted nod.

Lisle continued ‘cleaning’ his wounds, rubbing the salt into the fresh whip scars. Every time Haze made a sound, Lisle would dig his nails into the wounds and scrape, and the villain would shut up immediately.

He leaned over the villain’s prone form. “I’m almost done.”

The pitiful thing actually let out a sigh of relief.

Lisle rubbed the salt in with more force than necessary, making sure to really get the little crystals in there. He could feel Haze straining himself under his touch, trying his very hardest not to make a sound.

Lisle took his hands away and closed the lid of the salt box. He moved around to Haze’s side so he could see his face, splotchy red and streaked with tears.

“Now, do you remember what you always made me say?” Lisle asked. He leaned in toward Haze, who drew back, folding in on himself. “You were always so keen on manners.”

A pause.

“Th-thank—”

“What was that?” Lisle asked, interrupting Haze.

Haze stared down at the floor, threading his fingers together. “Thank you f-for cleaning my—for cleaning my wounds,” he said in a louder voice, albeit haltingly.

Lisle chuckled darkly. “You broke faster than I did.”

The villain winced. Lisle got up and looked down on him, a trembling wreck. He collected his salt box and, switching back to his guard disguise, slipped out of the room.

Haze settled his hands on the floor, the chains falling off his lap and making a loud enough noise that it startled him, even now. He watched the tears drip onto the floor for a while, listening to the sound of his own breathing. His back was in tatters. A riot of fire and rage—all that he deserved.

He put his head to the floor and wept.

—

tag list: @bumpthumpwhump​ @bliss757​ @hurting-fictional-people​ @whatwhump​

Lemme know what yall think of the new character, Lisle (haha)

[todoscript]

Syndicate — [ 1 ]

Parts | one ; two ; three

Genre | Mafia AU / Anti-Villain AU.

Pairing(s) | MafiaBosses!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Rating | Mature

Words | 5.2k+

Summary | Being the lover of, not one, but three influential young men, who are the leaders of the most wanted crime syndicate in Japan, it is no surprise that other eyes are watching you beyond the three’s own.

Warnings | Violence. Cursing/crude language. Guns. Mafia talk/“negotiating”. Lots of fighting. Reader is inspired by the femme fatale archetype. Polyamorous relationship. Characters are aged-up. Sexual undertones/implied sexual content. Possessiveness. Heavily self-indulgent. Written in 3rd POV. Shouto’s “codename” is Mercury (b/c the planet is both half-hot and half-cold lol).

Author’s Notes | Hello all! This is the first ever fanfic I’ve posted on tumblr! Sorry, the idea was lingering in my head until I suddenly felt the burst of energy to start writing this out of nowhere in the dead of 3AM. I’ve written fanfiction before but I’ve never published anything for tumblr so this is exciting.

The air is still, nearly silent apart from the nocturnal creatures that scurry and prowl through alleys, navigating over the dewy darkness between the seams. The moon graces the gloom of the night with its luster across desolated areas in Japan. Business hours have longed past as services are halted until the next coming day. Civilians are nowhere to be found, tucked away in their homes with their lights flickered off.

What remains alive in Japan during this hour is the wind cast through the streets, the scamper of animals in the nocturne, and a low hum of an ebony vehicle driven down roads of street lights.

“Whatever the fuck Overhaul wants better be worth my fucking time, Deku,” hisses a peeved Katsuki Bakugou, leaning against the window of their sleek automobile and looking highly uninterested during the ride. Izuku Midoriya, the young man with the head of unruly verdant hair, nods his head. His expression is mild at his friend’s usual discontented tone.

“Kai Chisaki—the head boss of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza—wants to negotiate with us, Kacchan. Surely it would be advantageous for us to hear him out. If anything we’ll manage to at least squeak some intel from him to reference for later on.” A glint rises in the male’s eyes.

“‘Some intel’ ain’t enough. If they’re gonna drag all three of us out here, then it better be for something good, or else I might have to let off some explosions to satisfy my boredom.” Bakugou’s quirk begins to pop and crack around his palms at the idea of letting loose.

Shouto Todoroki—the third of the trio—sighs exasperatingly at his fellow inflamed mafia boss, running his hand through his red and white tresses.

“Bakugou, I’d advise against it. Knowing the location we’re heading to, your explosions would only cause a ruckus in the area that’d get the annoying heroes involved. I’ve had enough dealing with those fools as it is and we also don’t need the men in blue following after our trail.”

“Shut up Icy-Hot! If this ‘negotiation’ isn’t beneficial to us, I’ll find my own way to make them pay for wasting our damn time!” Bakugou yells.

These three young men—Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Shouto Todoroki—are known as the bosses of one of Japan’s most powerful organized crime syndicates.

Notorious, ruthless, and authoritative, these three, despite their youth, have secured a name for themselves within the underground crime world. Aside from their tenacity and skill, the strength of each of their quirks played a large factor in their rise among the rivaling crime groups. They easily snuffed out the weak competition without so much as a sweat, and working under them are other strong combatants, each of them possessing their own unique and powerful quirks.

With everything at their disposal, the Yuuei mafia group quickly obtained a vast, large territory within the capital of Japan—the epicenter of where all the shady deals and disputes occur.

“We didn’t even bring Angel Face with us. What a drag.” Bakugou gruffs. He leans back in his seat, arms crossed, and cushioned behind his head as the lamps flicker past them, the dim lights splayed across the endless road.

“Letting ____ rest was the least we could do after her successful infiltration at the political officials gala,” the middle of the three states matter-a-factly.

“Especially after the rounds she endured even after her mission,” Todoroki adds, vividly remembering the gala dress cascading down her skin and clinging to her body that night, as well as their antics that ensued afterward.

He recalls the beautiful, red formal gown she wore for the occasion, the material hugging her figure perfectly and accentuating her curves in all the right places. God, he prayed that something within him wouldn’t stir at the thought of it again.

They all remembered it quite clearly. It made their fingers itch the very evening of the event, yearning to touch all the dips and arcs that sculpted her body. Her hair, styled up and tied with a matching silk red ribbon, kept the skin of her neck bare and begging to be marked while gold lined her wrists and collar bones. To say she was a goddess that night would be an understatement. The three could barely keep their hands off her before she even left the mansion, let alone attend the gala. But once her mission was complete, she arrived home to be thoroughly loved and lusted, with three young and hungry men indulging in all the divine fruits this celestial being had to offer to them.

The girl they speak of is not only their right-hand woman but also the three’s beloved paramour. Since their journey into coming to power, ____ has been with them through thick and thin and has become an influential asset in attaining their position.

Beautiful, yet dangerous, she proved to be an incredibly powerful fighter in many forms of combat in combination with her quirk, along with having a gift for deception that allowed her to climb her way to the top of the pack. Naturally, the trio found themselves drawn to her, not just for her strength and beauty, but also her passion and ability to mend the spirits of those around her. If it weren’t her, the Yuuei mafia group would not be as intact and well-oiled as it is today.

“Besides, we have some of our best following in the car behind us in case anything suspicious happens,” Midoriya gestures to the similar-looking sleek and dark-tinted car trailing behind their own.

“I very much doubt we need them, but it’s best not to worry Angel too much while she’s resting,” Todoroki murmurs, crossing his legs.

A few more turns and they’ve eventually entered the area of a vacant warehouse located on the edge of Japan near the shore.

The moment their vehicle is directed to a stop, the three bosses exit. Bakugou vehemently slams his door, eyeing the building with a vexing glare.

“Let’s get this shit show over with. This better be good.”

The warehouse is eerily quiet in the dead of the night and smells of salt from the ocean behind it. Spotting them walking to the entrance, the watchmen of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza hastily open the doors enclosing the warehouse. The hinges bear an uncomfortable creaking sound that jars through the silence.

“Oh, he’s here! He’s here! My cute little Izuku is here!” hollers a shrill voice belonging to an all-too-energetic head of messy, bunned-up blonde hair. The said boy blinks twice at her enthusiasm as they approach the lone wooden table situated in the center of the warehouse.

Uh, do I know her? He ponders for a second before dismissing the thought.

A pale man with gloved hands and shaggy auburn hair holds a hand out to halt the girl behind him. “Calm down Toga, we haven’t spoken of negotiations yet, so I need you to be quiet.”

Toga pouts, nearly grasping a silver blade at her side but stills herself for now. In the meantime, she opts to fidget with the tubular machine wrapped around her body.

The three look up to view a small group illuminated by the light fixed above the wooden table. Their eyes swiftly count seven or eight of them surrounding that area, including the ringleader, and likely more hidden somewhere in the darkness around them. After all, any fine and experienced villainous group would know better than to invite the bosses of the most dangerous crime syndicate without being thoroughly prepared for a possible scuffle to occur.

However, for now, they all advance with the notion to talk first before unleashing quirks and violence (well most of them anyway).

“Welcome, welcome. I see you made it to this place without much trouble; you’re right on time,” Overhaul greets the three young men mildly, “Deku, Ground Zero, and Mercury.”

Midoriya walks forward as the center of their entourage to return the cordial greeting. “Yes, it’s nice to finally meet you, Kai Chisaki of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza. Otherwise known as Overhaul.”

“Ah, so you know of me and my cause. It seems our reputation precedes us.”

“Of course. The Shie Hassaikai yakuza has long been in business in the crime world…” Midoriya muses, “Though they’ve wrung out past their former glory. Having since been pushed back into the underground after the rise of heroes.”

Bakugou smirks, close to letting out a snicker at the backhanded comment.

It’s true. While the Shie Hassaikai were one of the main criminal groups running the yakuza underground, that all soon fell and crumbled as the surge of heroes came into society. It was only after the former boss’ grandson, Kai Chisaki, came into power and took leadership that their name grew back into prominence once again, albeit little by little.

“Why you little–” A man donning a long white raincoat and plague doctor mask swiftly appears with a pistol pointed in Midoriya’s direction, none too amused by the remark. However, he’s cut off by a wall of ice erected at Midoriya’s side.

“Watch where you point those toys you little rat,” Todoroki sneers, and the tone of his voice nearly exposes chills to the air.

“Calm down, Chrono. We’re the ones that invited them as guests, thus we need to treat them like so.”

The white-haired subordinate withdraws at the words of his leader, retracting the gun back into the pocket of his coat.

“I apologize, he’s simply on edge over the fact we have some pretty powerful people at our doorstep. You’ll have to excuse him.”

“It’s quite all–”

“Did we come here to talk, or did we come here to fight?” Bakugou barges through, shoving past Midoriya with no restraint.

“I thought this was a fucking negotiation, not an apology fess. If one of your dogs is so edgy, I’d be happy to give him a good thrashing to satiate him if you want,” his raised hand sparks and flickers in the dark, “If not then get to it, Overhaul,” he threatens. Midoriya sighs.

“I think we’re simply all… piqued as to why this meeting was demanded out of nowhere and scheduled for the dead of the night no less, but I’m sure you have some important matters to discuss with us right, Overhaul?” Midoriya reasons, a sly grin on his lips.

“Right, let's get to it shall we?” Approaching closer to the table separating them, Overhaul continues, “First off, I must congratulate you on successfully infiltrating that gala the other night. Not many crime organizations can sneak into a party of that caliber. Especially when it’s so heavily guarded and kept secretive to all suspicious eyes of the dark,” he commends, digging a hand into the pocket of his jacket.

The three exchange quick, wary glances from the corner of their eyes that the opposite party misses.

“You were there?” Todoroki questions bluntly in which Overhaul hums in response.

“Hm, yes. But for different reasons, I’m sure. You see, I’ve been… examining little details of the Yuuei mafia group recently. It fascinates me how well-oiled and efficient you are at running your organization, so I began to ponder: ‘How do they do it?’ Little did I know, the answer all became more than clear to me from what I saw at that gala,” the auburn-haired man drawls, finally plucking out a photo from his pocket and sliding it across the wood under the light.

The moment the three recognized the image, their eyes widened, soon shifting into visages of sheer hostility at the next statement pronounced.

“This girl here? I want her.”

Within the confines of the paper is ____, dressed in the red gown she wore the very night of the gala, a masquerade mask over her features with the purpose to obscure herself in the throng.

The three before Overhaul seethe vessels of wrath.

“What did you just say? Do you even know what you’re asking of us?” Todoroki feels icy and heated atmospheres form on his opposing left and right sides upon hearing Overhaul’s words, sensing the tension rising around his fellow partners as well.

“The girl, I must say, does excellent work at her job. She’s skilled and tactical, having infiltrated many influential organizations and assassinated several powerful faces getting in the way of your mafia group. Such precision, efficiency, and beauty makes her the perfect woman, wouldn’t you agree?” He picks up the picture, bringing it up next to him.

Given the deadly pressure in the air, the next words he utters might be the final nail in his coffin.

“Well, I want you to hand her over to me.”

The nail is hit. There’s a lingering silence before hell nearly breaks loose and the next motions could deliver his soul down the River of Styx.

Fueled by blood-boiling anger and annoyance, Bakugou charges forward to land an explosive hit on the yakuza boss. “LIKE HELL WE WOULD, YA FUCKING BASTARD!” He’s thwarted by a yellow barrier emerging to shield the leader from the attack, courtesy of a henchman at his left side. The blonde jumps back, his hands still crackling and his rage not dissipating anytime soon. “Don’t go spewing a bunch of shit outta your mouth!”

“Now… let’s be rational or you’ll start getting dirt everywhere...” Overhaul dusts off his shoulder before resuming the conversation nonchalantly, “Of course I’ll provide you with compensation. I wouldn’t be so naive as to expect to be given something so valuable without offering payment after all.”

With a snap of his fingers a large, bulky man promptly lays a silver briefcase on the table. The locks click open to reveal wads of cash layering the case to the brim, enough to flabbergast and entice any common citizen in Japan.

“If this amount isn’t enough, I have another briefcase with—”

A jolting sound of the wooden table and metal briefcase breaking beneath Midoriya’s foot is enough to diminish the rest of Overhaul’s remark, signifying their blunt answer to his offer.

“What a waste of a night it’s been. Presenting money to us in hopes that we’d simply hand over our beloved like she’s some prostitute for sale? You're more of a fool than I took you for, Kai Chisaki,” Each word that rolls off Midoriya’s tongue is laced with venom. Such malice is enough to paralyze those who hear it, as if it would be the last statement they’ll ever listen to before hitting the concrete dead.

Reasoning with the trio any further is equivalent to bargaining with the god of the underworld, offering nothing but your knees on the floor and a sad pleading voice, only to be whisked back to the deepest, darkest chambers of hell.

Overhaul simply pauses before following with a long, testy sigh.

“A no then? Alright. Toga.”

The bun-headed blonde pounces forward at the command almost instantaneously, knife in her grasp and ready to swing. Midoriya moves to the side with ease, evading the blade as well as dodging a puncture from a needle. His agility is manifested in green electric currents of aura.

“Ooh, I finally get to cut up and obtain cute Izuku’s yummy blood!” She grins psychotically, keeping both eyes trained on the green-haired boy. “Heehee, I’ve been waiting for this day! Ever since I saw that photo of you all bruised up in a fight, I had to have you all to myself! I just love a man all red and bloodied!” Toga exclaims in utter glee, giggling like a schoolgirl meeting her celebrity idol.

Midoriya grimaces, nearly shivering at her excitement over announcing her neurotic confession to him. Her contorted facade is not earning her any points either. Taking notice of the wary expression that crosses his brows, Toga grins wider.

“It’s OK, even if you don’t like me now, you’ll definitely like me when I get a drop of that girl’s blood and transform into her! We’ll look so much alike, you’ll have heart-eyes for me too!” Her features curve into a look of pure hysteric that leaves Midoriya speechless, so much so it takes a loud blast hurled past him to finally bring his senses back to the conflict.

“Move it, Deku!” Bakugou’s attacks are relentless and powerful, but Toga’s nimbleness prevents her from getting hit.

“Deku, Ground Zero, back up,” Todoroki raises his left hand, the corresponding side flaring with heat before quickly igniting into bright hot flames enough to cover his entire arm. “You lot have some nerve to call us and arrange this abhorrent deal under the guise of a ‘negotiation.’ I’ll incinerate you all for even thinking you could take her from us.”

His quirk is unleashed in a flurry of fire that’s launched toward his enemies.

“Dabi,” Overhaul signals and a lanky man with patched, burnt scars and skin held together by staples and stitches steps forward, triggering his blue blazes to combat the red-orange ones. The infernos collide into a firestorm that soon scatters and disperses due to a power struggle.

“Tch,” Todoroki narrows his brows, annoyed.

“Hm, the brat’s not all talk after all,” Dabi’s expression remains stoic while his hand hovers in front of him, still swallowed by his azure flames. Wordlessly he releases his blazes once more only to be countered by Todoroki’s wall of ice diminishing the onslaught of fire.

On their end, Midoriya and Bakugou are in pursuit of the head honcho Overhaul himself, while attempting to throw blows at Toga along the way.

Now enveloped in energy that increases his strength and dexterity tenfold, it isn’t long until the green-haired young man catches up to crafty Toga’s momentum. With a grunt, Midoriya kicks forward, swinging his foot into the girl’s direction with tremendous force that’s too quick for her to avoid.

Toga braces herself for the impact but the attack never meets. Instead, a yellow shield materializes in front of her to take the blow, a crack now evident on the surface of the saffron safeguard. “Oooh! Izuku’s really out for blood! How thrilling!” she squeals, licking her lips.

“It’s that fucking barrier bastard again! Move over, I’ll kill him!” yells a pissed Bakugou who jumps over Midoriya’s head, running across the top of the manifested barrier. From there, he spots his offender.

Gritting his teeth, he dashes off the shield before it can disappear and uses it to propel himself forward. His palms glow and envelope themselves with heat as he holds them outward.

“Rappa! I can’t conduct another shield so quickly, get him!” Tengai, the one with the barrier quirk, hastens his partner. Rappa zealously swoops in front of him with iron-knuckle gloves ready.

“Oh no, you don’t! Try and fucking dodge this!” Bakugou brings his hands forward while still in midair, “Stun Grenade!” A radiant, gleaming light emits from his palms, effectively blinding all those within his vicinity.

Rappa and Tengai have no choice but to cover their eyes from the intensity of the light, leaving them wide open to strike!

Without hesitation, the ash-blonde creates two more explosions to launch himself forward, spinning in the air and gathering momentum before firing his attack encased in an explosive tornado.

“Howitzer Impact!!”

In an instance, a flash exudes in a fiery burst of nuclear reaction, which releases violent discharges of kinetic energy towards his enemies. The attack hits home, covering a chuck of the area with debris and rubble, and producing a hole on the right side of the warehouse.

Tengai and Rappa are incapacitated.

“Kac— Ground Zero, you went all out didn’t you…” Midoriya mutters while holding Toga down despite all her fidgeting. In a last-ditch effort, the girl draws out the spare knife tucked away in her utility belt, however the young man on top of her knocks it away before she can react any further.

“Toga, am I correct? I suggest you stand down, or I may have to break something to make you cooperate.” Midoriya’s warning exudes a menacing tone, in contrast to his former courteous character and the gentle features adorning his face. Yet Toga does not seem fazed by this.

“Heehee, you’re so cute when you make threats like that…” she giggles, shifting her head ever so slightly to catch glimpses of the male’s appearance. He’s quite disheveled down to his wrinkled suit, unbuttoned collar, sweat glistening on his forehead, and what’s this?

Toga peeks at a single crimson line split on the skin of his cheek with dilated pupils.

“Even though you were so fast, I at least managed to graze you just a teeny-tiny bit! That scarlet cut looks so nice on you, Izuku, aw how I wish I can give you more!” She prattles on and on, beaming over every utterance spoken past her lips. “I did say red is the best color on you, after all!”

Midoriya’s eyes narrow at her behavior, fists clenched and apt to deliver a silencing blow.

“Although… blue wouldn’t look half bad either.”

Unable to express confusion at her remark, he soon perceives a blast of cerulean blue flames aimed and released in his direction, forcing him to jump up to dodge the attack. Toga makes her escape after the fire diffuses, withdrawing next to Dabi. The patched man continues his onslaught on Todoroki and Midoriya.

“They’ve managed to defeat our spear and shield, and nearly took out Toga,” Overhaul’s stance is methodical and calculating, overseeing the fight from the back lines of his unit with a gloved hand beneath his chin. “I suppose it’s time to use that,” he declares.

Chrono briefly glances at him before reaching for a gun in the pocket of his coat—a different weapon from the pistol he pointed at Midoriya earlier. In a container held behind him, he produces a peculiarly shaped bullet, one that takes on the form of a cartridge with a hypodermic needle sticking out on one end.

“Dabi, when these bullets hit, that will be your chance to burn them all away,” orders the auburn-haired man. He raises an arm to prep for the signal as Chrono readies the gun wielded in his hand, positioning his target onto the spiky blonde mafia boss.

“Ha! You think a pathetic little gun is going to stop me?!” While Bakugou exudes confidence and arrogance, his dual-haired comrade is not as keen about the situation at hand.

Why would those fools try to use such a primitive method of fighting at this point? They saw how useless that gun was earlier… ponders Todoroki in the heat of battle, Unless…

“Ground Zero! Be careful! There’s something fishy about that weapon they’re using!” he warns, making the blonde’s expression fix into an irritated glare.

“Shut up Icy-Hot; I know what I’m doing! Why don’t you pay attention to patchwork over there before you get another scar!” Bakugou quips back, eyes never leaving Overhaul. “I’m gonna make this washout yakuza leader regret ever giving us a call to this useless negotiation.”

The man is impassive at the blonde’s threats, lips remaining in a fine line underneath his mask. His arm stays raised next to him for Chrono to acknowledge.

At once, Bakugou’s body launches back into action like a jet engine propelling a rocket. His movements gather more and more sweat to strengthen himself for another devastating assault.

“Pesky thing won’t stop moving…” mutters Chrono, hand continually shifting aim at Bakugou’s unpredictable tumbling. “I’ll just make you sit still!”

On command, arrow-shaped hair pierces through the fabric of his hood and extends straight to Bakugou. His quirk’s versatility and quick instincts allow him to evade the attack to the left with ease. However, it seems Chrono was waiting for that very moment as the blonde is now within his gun’s line of sight.

Overhaul draws his hand down, giving Chrono the signal to finally pull the trigger. A crack of a sonic boom resonates within the single millisecond it is shot. The dart is fired.

The gunshot rings throughout the space of the warehouse. Todoroki and Midoriya can barely register the shot in time to yell out to Bakugou, whose head turns toward the capsule’s velocity in almost slow motion.

Crap..! he curses, unable to move away to escape the bullet in time and preparing to embrace the shot.

However, it never makes its mark.

“Boss! Watch out!”

A gruff voice suddenly makes its debut within the fray, taking everyone by surprise as the newcomer throws himself in front of Bakugou, hardened arms crossed.

“What the—!”

Chrono watches in despair. The bullet ricochets right off the rock-like body of a man with spiked tufts of crimson red hair.

“What the hell? Red Riot?!” sputters a bewildered Bakugou at Kirishima’s abrupt entrance.

“D-Dammit!” Chrono tries to fire again to rectify his failure, but his attempt is in vain. Something muscly wraps around his arm tightly, tossing him away.

“Froppy!” Midoriya calls out to the girl as she retracts her froggy tongue, currently clung to the wall, and camouflaged into her surroundings. She reveals herself into the battle with a small “ribbit.”

“While you guys were inside, a bunch of their goons started surrounding our cars. We knew something shady was up, especially when we heard explosions coming from inside, so we busted our way in here right past them!” Kirishima explains, now standing back-to-back against Bakugou, “Seems like you’re fighting a battle too!”

“I see, so they planned on ambushing all of us if we didn’t comply with their deal,” says Todoroki. He fires more flames in their direction. “How pathetic. They were woefully unprepared.”

“Agreed! Ambushing is no way to fight! Real men would come at us head-on!” Kirishima emphasizes his fierceness through clanking his hardened fists against each other, jagged edges sparking.

“Red Riot! Froppy!” exclaims Midoriya, “Where are the others?”

Asui ribbits before answering, “They’re handling the rest of the—”

“L-Leader..! Leader!” a frantic voice shouts from the entrance of the warehouse, where a ragged up Shie Hassaikai henchman tries to pry inside.

“T-The girl..! She isn’t h-here, she isn’t— GAH!”

His message is interrupted. A menacing shadowy figure looms over the goon like a monster hiding within the dark and throws him back to the struggle outside, proceeding to rampage across the battlefield. Desperate cries leak out but to no avail.

Overhaul discerns the sputtered message:

The girl he so desired was not with them to begin with.

To his dismay, this fight was pointless. If what he sought could not be forcibly taken right then and there, then there is no reason to continue the battle. There was no prize to be won by the end of it all.

Now, he must adjust his plans due to the unfavorable news. How tragic.

At the thought of having lost time, energy, and resources, the yakuza leader pinches the bridge of his nose, utterly furious. There’s a pause in which Overhaul seethes an aura of killing intent over this frustration.

But it eventually simmers and subsides. What happens now cannot be changed, no matter how enraged he is. So he must take logical steps to preserve and remedy the repercussions, which to him was simple:

“We’re withdrawing.”

“What?” Dabi looks at him incredulously, “After all this?”

“Yes, they've taken down our spear and shield, and have wiped out the majority of the soldiers. If what we want isn’t here, then there is no point in staying,” Overhaul’s husky tone bears weight and authority at every word.

“Nemoto, grab Chrono from wherever he was thrown.”

“Yes, Overhaul. What about Rappa and Tengai?”

The auburn-haired man doesn’t so much as spare a glance toward his two defeated subordinates lying on the ground, “Leave them. They’re expendable to me.”

Nemoto nods, going to gather a knocked out Chrono thrown across the warehouse and now lying unconscious atop broken wooden crates.

Midoriya’s fists clenched tightly at the scene, realizing what the yakuza’s next plan of action was going to be.

“They’re trying to escape!”

“Oh, the fuck they are. I won’t let a single one of you bastards leave!” Bakugou bursts into the air, propelled by the explosions from his palms in hot pursuit, with Midoriya catching up thanks to his heightened speeds.

“Sorry boys, party’s over!” Toga intercepts the two using twin knives flung in their direction, catching them off guard. Dabi follows the diversion by gathering a massive amount of flames into his hands before swiftly releasing the kindled energy to erect a blue wall of fire throughout his surroundings.

“Bye Izuku~!” a feminine voice shrills from behind the fiery wall, becoming the last words they hear as they wait for the flames to dissipate, ultimately revealing that their enemies had already fled.

“Those fuckers couldn’t have gone far,” Bakugou doesn’t relent, poised on finding them and having them pay the full consequences of their actions. Midoriya grasps his shoulder, stopping him.

“Let them go, Kacchan. Considering the location they decided for this meeting, they likely fled by boat. We have no way of following them at the moment.”

Todoroki agrees, adding on, “Besides, there are more important things to worry about right now,” he casts his gaze to the wooden table Midoriya had broken prior to the fight transpiring. “For one, they’re after ____ and are willing to go to any lengths to get her. We need to head back to the mansion to make sure she’s safe.” There’s slight urgency evident in his tone. Despite their tenacity, the idea of having their beloved wrenched away is enough to render them even a little bit fearful. Had she been present in the conflict, there’s no telling what could have happened.

“And two,” Todoroki walks off to another site of the warehouse, picking up something dropped on the floor, “we need to figure out what this is.” In his hand, he holds the small capsule bullet that is now slightly dented thanks to the impact against Kirishima’s hardened skin.

The other two examine the capsule briefly until Bakugou decides to take it from Todoroki’s fingers for closer inspection. If Overhaul was so keen on using a gun to do away with them all, despite how inferior it was, then this must be no ordinary bullet.

The three decide to contain the item for further examination for now as they, Kirishima, and Asui make their way outside again. There, bodies of Shie Hassaikai thugs littered the floor after having been thoroughly beaten into submission. Tokoyami, Yaoyorozu, Uraraka, and Kaminari lean against the cars casually but remain attentive after the fight.

“It was quite an ill-planned move to dare to attack us in the night,” Tokoyami’s eyes closed in thought at the havoc he wreaked thanks to the amplified powers of his quirk. Kaminari snickers and boasts with an electric snap of his fingers, “Yakuza didn’t know what hit them, the mafia always stays on top.”

“Excellent work everyone, it seems the henchmen were of no trouble to you,” Midoriya commends the squad, “Now, we must leave before the police arrive on the scene to assess the damage.”

Their six combatants all nod at the order, about to gather back in their vehicle until Bakugou huffs with a final statement before they make their getaway.

“Know that the next time we see those Shie Hassaikai bastards, we will take them down,” He narrows his eyes at the ocean, the moon still hanging above the sky and basking the waters in moonlight,

“without hesitation.”

Ending Notes | Whew.. thanks for reading! For the next part I was considering writing it in 2nd POV since the reader will actually be physically present during the events of the story now, but I’m not sure yet. Please let me know your thoughts and follow if you’re interested in this series <3