#because whenever I hear about tears in the fabric of reality I think about that

[doctorsiren]

Here’s just the art I did for my Death Shroud song :D

[kopikokiki]

444 (you're still blue).

— In which Elio breaks up with Kie. Her first move? To call her mom.

— Tags: @meistwentyinchheels, @calico-fleur.

— Likes & reblogs are appreciated! <3

NOW PLAYING: TV - BILLIE EILISH

Kie makes a point to call her A-ma with Kalo whenever she gets the chance to—but with how hectic classes have been, they’ve all agreed to keep it to one call every two weeks. It’s taken a bit of working around, but with Kalo’s eye for a meticulous schedule, they’ve managed to fit exactly one call every two weeks into all three of their schedules. The time varies, but it somehow always lands at a time when they’re all available to talk.

And maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the wave of heartbreak so overwhelming he’s clutching at his chest, but Kie might have forgotten that 2:37 in the morning on a Tuesday is not one of those times.

Still, her a-ma picks up.

“Kie?” And oh, the static of her voice is so sweet and familiar and unknowing that hearing it only serves to bring fresh tears to Kie’s eyes.

“A-ma–” Kie starts, voice hitching from how violently his hiccups jerk his body, “I— I–...A-ma—”

“Baby,” her A-ma murmurs, and there’s a rustling on the other end of the line; fabric, most likely a blanket being pushed aside. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

Kie likes to think he is a good child. He puts every modicum of effort he can summon into making sure his A-ma doesn’t have to worry about him—from patching up his own knee scrapes and memorizing which steps creaked along the pathway from his room to the medicine cabinet, to filling out all of his college applications alone and booking his own flight all the way across the country so she wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of it for him; he does all he can to make sure his A-ma does not have to waste more of her concern on him than she already does.

Kalo was always a little reliant on A-ma, anyway. Why would Kie want to give her A-ma someone else to constantly worry about the way she does with Kalo, even now that it’s grown up and a little more independent? How could she ever hope to be so presumptuous as to think her A-ma would take on that kind of responsibility without some kind of consequence?

How could he even dare to put that much more on her shoulders?

(How could anyone?)

…

But then again, these are outstanding circumstances. Unavoidable circumstances. The kind that would make someone call their mom at two in the morning just to cry about it.

And Kie, for all of her cautiousness and self-reliance, knows that A-ma understands those kinds of circumstances better than anyone.

Kie likes to think he is a good child.

Maybe this whole time, she’s been thinking wrong.

Because the way he lets a sob, unrestrained, gurgle from his throat and directly into the speaker of his phone as his body heaves over like the weight of the world is pressing down on his back—that is not something a good child would do.

“No, A-ma,” she wails, fingers digging creases into a sticky note covered in scribbled scars—a memento, a tribute to what she’d lost not moments before, “it’s— I’m not okay.”

A-ma is a good mom, though.

And maybe, for once, Kie can let himself be selfish enough to be grateful for that.

(It’s not like he has much of a choice right now, anyway.)

“Kie, honey,” A-ma says, kind but firm in a way that brings her a couple inches back to reality—not quite, but it’s there nonetheless and she knows it. “Talk to me, okay? What happened? Are you hurt, or—?”

“I—” A loud hiccup pierces through his sentence. Still, he claws away at the lump in his throat until it’s cleared enough for him to weep, “M– my boyfriend broke up with me. Five minutes ago.”

“Oh, Kie,” A-ma mumbles, her voice laden with the kind of sympathy only a mother could muster. “I’m so sorry, baby— what happened? Did he just leave, or–?” “He called.” Another hiccup, quieter this time. “I told him whatever he wanted to say, he could just say it over the phone.”

There’s a long pause��too long. “I shouldn’t have– but it…it would have hurt more if I had to look at him while he said it.”

Of course it would have hurt more. How could he have looked Elio—sweet, loving, caring Elio—in the face and listened to him say those words and pretended it was okay?

It would have been impossible.

“I can’t stay, Kie.”

“I know.”

“...I’ll call you. I promise.”

“I know.”

She had not known. Still, foolishly, selfishly—she had chosen to believe.

(Again, it wasn’t like she’d had much of a choice.)

A-ma is quiet. She knows Kie has more to say—how she knows, he’ll never understand. But he takes the opportunity to speak while it’s there; even if he’s barely getting the words out.

Her voice comes out meek—embarrassingly so. “A-ma, will—...will it be okay?”

He knows the answer.

He knows what A-ma tells her won’t be true.

He listens anyway.

“Of course, baby.”

And maybe that should have been enough.

Maybe she should have believed A-ma, then—believed that by some force of pure luck, by the sheer willpower that had carried her this far, it would somehow be okay. She would somehow be okay. It hurts now, hurts in a way she cannot hope to explain—but in her mind she knows that this hurt won’t last forever.

(Maybe he’d thought wrong about that too.)

“I don’t want to—” Kie starts, voice thick with unshed tears. By some miracle, with nails threatening to tear through soft sleeves and tear tracks bleeding into the corners of her mouth, she finds it in herself to continue. “I don’t want to miss him, A-ma. I– I loved him. I loved him so much and it wasn’t enough.”

A-ma hasn’t stopped whispering her comforts, voice a crackle through the tinny speakers of his phone. It soothes him, the way his A-ma’s presence always has—but the ache in his chest is making it so, so hard to breathe.

“I want to hate him,” Kie chokes out, a sob clogging up her throat again—louder, more insistent, demanding to be heard. “I want to hate him so fucking much. I– I wish I never met him!”

A-ma’s voice is tender, like a hug. “You don’t mean that, baby.”

Kie’s, in return, is tender like a bruise. “I wish I did.”

And maybe some part of him wishes he could hate Elio. Maybe some part of him wishes he could look at that stupid smile and those stupid eyes and the stupid curve of the knuckles lining his stupid fucking hands, and feel none of the staggering longing that crushes against his ribs like it’s trying to break them.

But Kie knows better than to rely on wishes.

“I thought—” she starts, mortified when her voice somehow splinters into several pieces, cramped within two little syllables. “I thought he loved me, A-ma, but– but he didn’t love me. He...he didn’t even like me.”

“He didn’t?”

“He called it off,” Kie continues, and all of a sudden the words feel like they won’t stop no matter how much he hiccups or sobs or tries to stop talking. “He’s the one who said it wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, that love wasn’t supposed to happen— that whatever I felt for him wasn’t supposed to happen– I told him I loved him and he told me— he told me to my face that someday I’d fucking move on—”

Doing her best to halt her words there, she heaves in a breath and tries to will away the piercing ache blooming near her temples. A-ma is quiet on the other end, but she’s listening. She’s always listened.

“I— I still love him, A-ma.”

The response, this time, is immediate.

“I know you do, baby.”

“But I don’t want to feel like this.”

“I know. It hurts, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine how heartbroken you must feel right now, Kie, and I am so sorry he did this to you.”

“He told me he didn’t care what happened last year. He said he’d stay– he’d stay with me, no matter what. He— he told me he loved me.”

“I know.”

“And I— I believed him.”

“That’s not your fault, baby.”

“Then why does it hurt so badly?”

“Because you still love him, Kie. Even if he doesn’t love you the way you love him.”

Another moment of silence. It doesn’t feel nearly as reverent as moments of silence usually do.

“...will I be okay, A-ma?”

“Someday, baby. Someday.”

Maybe, he thinks, that will be enough.

(Maybe, like all the other times, he’s thinking wrong.)

“I love you, A-ma.” “I love you too, Kie. Get some rest, okay?”

“I will. Goodnight.” “Sleep well, baby.”

The line goes dead. Kie kneels there next to her bed, surrounded by scattered sticky notes scrawled with at least a hundred little memories packed into the few study breaks she’d taken with him, and she does not cry because maybe if she can will away the tears, it’ll feel okay for as long as she can hold on.

(Maybe.)

[primofate]

Breaking up Part 2 Albedo x gn!reader

Sorry it took so long! Haha. Yeah tumblr effed over for me. But here it is! :D

Scenario: Breaking up and getting back together again

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst? NOT PROOFREAD

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read:  (Part 1) (Part 3 - Final)

“Sucrose... Do you know where Y/N went?”

5 days 3 hours and 12 minutes. He’d been counting. He’d been counting since you left. It was only today that he had the courage to ask Sucrose about it. 

Sucrose jumps at the sudden call of her name. 

Albedo had not been the same. The frequent mistakes in the lab proved it. The constant slips of the hand and test tubes shattering on the floor told Sucrose that perhaps that was how his heart looked like too.

“...No, I don’t,” Sucrose simply says, then lets the silence of the lab fill the air. Only the bubbles from their experiments hanging. It was still for a moment, Sucrose going back to her calculations and research. Albedo sat in front of his alchemy set, blankly staring at it.

He doesn’t even understand what being “tired” feels like anymore. He hasn’t had a decent sleep. Every small movement in the house, every whisper of the wind he would bolt up in bed, thinking it was you coming in from the front door. Sometimes he would hear someone shuffling, he would stop and listen for you, but then realizes that the sound was the sound of his legs under the covers, trying to keep warm without you around. 

Sucrose glances up at her mentor. He’s buried his face in his hands, his hair in slight disarray. She knew what was going to happen next. He was going to stand up and just walk away from the lab, and Sucrose was not going to see him until tomorrow again. 

Tomorrow, the cycle would repeat. 

Albedo couldn’t function. It was pathetic. He really thought that he must be such a sight right now, eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair down and clothes a little unruly. He ran away from the lab again. He abandoned his “important” experiment and went back home, retreating in his room, falling on his knees and slumping on the bed in front of him.

He buried his face into his arms and tried to piece his heart back together.

“Albedo, will you ever get tired of me?”

There was a soft hint of a frown on your face. Silly you, Albedo thought. Always worried about being apart from him. He only smiles and cups your chin in his hand, leans in close to press his forehead against yours to whisper, “Never,” 

His fists clutch at the bedsheets, the fabric scrunching up under his hands. Every.damn.time. he tried to take a break, he would be reminded of you. Every thing reminded him of you. Breathing reminded him of you. It was as if you were right beside him and yet you weren’t. 

It was him. He was supposed to be the one asking “Y/N, will you ever get tired of me?” He was supposed to be the one worried. But he hadn’t been because he had taken you for granted. He thought that you’d always just be there, waiting for him patiently as you always had but now that he was alone, he realized just how lonely this silence could be.

“You must have been lonely...waiting here for me in this silence...”

His voice was muffled by the sheets, and he didn’t know who he was talking to. He did that a lot these days. Saying things that he wished you could still hear. 

The next day, just as Sucrose predicted. It was the same. Halfway through his experiment Albedo stopped, and stared at nothing in particular. She wondered if, whenever he did that, he remembered the things he said to you that day. 

But, just as Sucrose thinks today would end up the same...

it didn’t.

“Big brother Albedo!” Klee stormed into the lab, the door slamming open really loud. “Oh...I’m sorry, I didn’t check the sign... I...” Klee stepped out to look at the door sign and found “KEEP OUT” still there. “Oh no...! I did a mistake! Sorry big brother,” the little girl fumbled with her fingers and swung from side to side to show her apology. 

A hint of a smile appears on Albedo’s face and Sucrose was thunderstruck. There had been no expression on the Kreideprinz’s face for the longest time that the smile had felt so foreign. “It’s alright, Klee. Do you need help with something?” and his voice wasn’t hoarse. If there was anything that could cheer him up, it would be Klee.

He was done prioritizing his research over the people that really mattered. 

“Look what I got! I’ve never seen such a pretty flower in Mondstadt before,” Klee showed off the blue flower to Albedo, eyes shining and wide. Albedo touched the petals as Klee held it up for him. “Ah, yes, Glaze Lilies. You can only find them in Liyue, Klee,” Albedo explains. Klee bounces excitedly.

“Ohhhh! That’s amazing! Y/N must have travelled there recently!” 

The silence in the lab was deafening. Albedo’s hand drops from the flower as he looks at Klee, confused. Sucrose had stopped what she was doing, wide-eyed, staring at the young bomber. “...What do you mean, Klee?” Albedo whispered out. 

Hearing your name said by someone else made it all the more real that you weren’t here with him anymore. 

“Oh! See, Klee was in Windrise and... I was looking at the fishes...” Klee gasped a little, “Please don’t tell Master Jean!” she whispered pointedly but continued. “I saw Y/N there, and Y/N gave me a really big hug and gave me this Guh lays Lily,” the young girl got the name wrong, but Albedo hadn’t been listening anymore. He stood up and crouched down to eye level with Klee, hands on her shoulders.  “W-When, Klee?” he clears his throat and tries again, “When did this happen?” Sucrose had also been listening and watching in bated breath.  Klee gave one of her biggest, most innocent smiles, not knowing how crucial this information had been to Albedo. “Just now! I just came back from Windrise!” 

Albedo didn’t feel the slightest sorry that he bolted out of the lab without explaining to Klee. She would understand and Surcrose was there. He sprinted towards the gates of Mondstadt like his life depended on it. In some senses, it really did.

I can make it.

He was panting hard. His footsteps thundering in his ears. His breath coming in quick ins and outs. His heart is about to fly off its cage.

I can make it. It’s just outside of Mondstadt. 

Wind rushes past him, the pigeons on the bridge outside of Mondstadt, disturbed, flying away in a frenzy. Timmie shouting after him. 

Please be there. Please.

It takes him longer than he wanted. He wanted to be faster, wanted to be there already but he was still running. Still chasing after that hope. The adrenaline he feels pumps in his veins and yet he is so out of breath that he needs to stop. His hands resting on his knees as he closes his eyes and tries to get his breathing even. 

I have to keep going.

His legs were killing him. They were strained by the sudden rush of exercise and yet he still drags both towards Windrise. He could see the large tree at the horizon, but he was too far away to see if you were there. He continues to pant, steadying his breath, preparing for another burst of energy to run towards where he so desperately hoped you were.  What if you weren’t there anymore?

What if he was too late?

What if he never saw you again?

“What if it doesn’t work...?” Albedo asks, pondering over the research and discussing it with you over dinner. He loved to talk about his experiments with you because you gave valuable insights on it, and really listened to him. You smile and give him the confidence that he needs, “Then you can try again, Bedo. You always find a way!”

He’s still panting by the time he reaches the steps leading up to the large tree. His eyes dart around. He circles around in place, wondering if you were around the area. He continues forward, stepping up to the big roots and yet again looked around, trying to spot your familiar tuft of hair/colour. 

At the corner of his eye he spots something, behind the big tree. A Crystalfly. It was flying away and his eyes automatically follow it. There was a hand trying to reach out for it, but it barely grazed the Crystalfly’s wings. You stepped out from behind the tree, a little annoyed that you couldn’t catch the Crystalfly. 

Albedo feels like he’s frozen in time. He stands there and watches the wind caress your hair. Watches as you tuck your hair back behind your ear. Watches as you turn around and start walking away. He snaps back to reality and moves forward, roots and sticks cracking under his feet as he struggles through the root laden path just to get near you. 

You, hearing the disturbance from behind, turn around and was met face to face with the lover you left a few days ago. Something shatters inside you. You weren’t ready for this. You were far from ready to see him again. Why was he out here in the middle of the day? You stood still just as he did in front of you. 

You notice how his hair is sticking to his face with sweat. The fast rise and fall of his chest. The pained look in his eyes. The closed up fists on his side. “Y/N--” his voice cracks and tears start to pool in your eyes. 

You aren’t strong enough for this and you start to turn away.

Albedo rushes forward to trap you in a hug. His arms so desperately wrapped around you as his head rests on your shoulder. “Don’t,” he pleads. “Please don’t go. Come back with me, please,” there’s a different type of hopelessness in his voice. A moment later tears are streaming down your face. 

“I-I can’t Albedo. I--” can’t put myself through that again. I can’t and don’t want to be alone at home all the time. 

His body shakes and you realize it’s a sob that wracks his body. Your shoulder is slightly wet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please.” You’ve never seen him cry. Not like this. Not as he clings to you and admits defeat. “I...I couldn’t take care of you--It’s my fault. I know, but--”

“I like Windrise. It’s very relaxing.” You say as the two of you walk around the tree, collecting materials. “Is it?” Albedo responds, stopping momentarily to look up at the tree. “You don’t think so?” you curiously ask your lover. He ponders for a moment before smiling, “I think coming home to you is a lot more relaxing,” at the early stages of your relationship hearing something like that from him would cause you to blush.

You pry his arms away and look up at him. His head is dipped low and you can’t see his face clearly, concealed by his hair. You brush his hair away and lift his head up, and you see how streaks of tears run down his cheeks. You see the sleepless nights in his eyes. The hurt that creases on his forehead. You see what your absence has done to him, and all in one moment, you think that perhaps you were too harsh on him. That you should’ve talked it out instead of leaving so abruptly but you-- “I was hurt...” your lips tremble as you try to explain. 

“I try, really hard, to make things easier for you. To care about you. I have never asked for anything grand.” You’re surprised at how level your voice is, despite feeling like you might break down just as he does. 

“I’m aware,” Albedo wipes at his face, frustrated at himself. His tears have stopped. You were talking. That must be a good sign. “I don’t--Don’t deserve you,” but he steels himself and places his hands on your cheeks. God how long had it been since he touched you like this? and wipes away the tears that were silently falling from your eyes. “But I’ll take care of you. I’ll prove your worth. I... won’t make the same mistake again,” 

And when Albedo said or promised something he was one of the few people that you believed in the most. He was trustworthy all the way, and was true to most of what he said. “You have my word... and if I do make the same error again then... Then you can leave. But right now I--” he moves to rest his forehead against yours, taking in the warmth and love that he had missed. “I’m asking for another chance,” he gulps. “Please,”

You stay quiet for a moment. Assessing the situation. But your eyes close at the closeness the two of you are in right now. There was no doubt that you still loved him. A few days would not change anything. A few days would not ruin the years that you spent together. But you were scared and guarded. You weren’t sure what would happen and if it was worth it. You were scared of being with him and being lonely. “...We... should talk and think a little bit more about this...” you conclude and give your answer, stepping away from him.

Albedo’s face grimaces in distraught, but turns into confusion when you take his hand and tugs on it slightly. “...At home, we can talk about this at home...Is that okay? Let’s go back first,” you would figure it out with him from there.

His head drops and he tries hard not to let tears escape again. He really didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve this kindness but he sure as hell would take it. He would take it and make it right again. He picks his head up and squeezes your hand, voice slightly soft and trembling, and smiles.

“Thank you. That’s perfect,” 

and with his hand tight on yours, because he wasn’t letting you go again, the two of you make your way back.

Should I make a part 3 with fluff and write about the aftermath and how Albedo made it up to you? Let me know :D Message me :D Love me <3

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[babyboibucky]

Angel on Her Knees

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You give Bucky the TLC he deserves.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: SMUT, an overly eager blowjob 😏

A/N: So this is the first blowjob fic I’ve ever done and this is all thanks to @borikenlove sending me ideas with encouragements from my nasty babes @bitchassbucky and @sarge-barnes-sir okay tbh I didn’t proofread this because I’m super excited to post this filth 😌 I hope this reached y’alls expectations 😬

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky’s had a long and rough day, judging by his heavy footsteps and soft grunts when he arrived home.

You were in the kitchen washing the dishes, eyeing Bucky warily and gauging his mood.

“Rough day, babe?” You called out sweetly, your eyes following Bucky as he sat on the couch.

He merely groaned in response, throwing his head back against the back of the couch, his eyes closed and brows furrowed in deep thought.

The scowl on Bucky’s face was supposed to make you feel bad for him, he looked tired and worked up— exhausted actually. Would it be inconsiderate of you if you were legitimately turned on by how your boyfriend looked right now?

You found yourself tilting your head to get a better view of Bucky on the couch. His legs were wide open, stretching out the garment of his jeans across those thick thighs of his; the rapid movement of his chest as he heavily breathed out through his nose, the black shirt he had on only accentuating his pecs.

And his face, did he really have to have that expression when exhausted?

Licking your lips, you turned off the faucet and wiped your hands dry. Your eyes never left Bucky the entire time as you silently waltzed into the living room.

For a super soldier with enhanced hearing, Bucky sure wasn’t attentive enough to notice you when you knelt down on the ground, positioning yourself in between his legs.

“How tired are you, baby?” You purred, holding onto Bucky’s knees.

Bucky jolted in his seat, eyes snapping open when you spoke. He lifted his head up and saw you looking up at him and the sight alone instantly made him forget what he was stressing over.

You on your knees in between his thighs, looking so innocent yet devilish at the same time. How could Bucky say no to you when you were gazing up at him like an angel who looked more than ready to sin?

“Not too tired for whatever it is going on in that head.” Bucky rasped out and lovingly caressed your hair.

You took your lower lip in between your teeth, your hands immediately sliding up from Bucky’s knees towards his thighs. Bucky watched you with half-lidded eyes and his mouth parted as you impatiently fumbled with his zipper.

“Just sit back, baby. Let me do all the work.” You whispered before taking Bucky’s semi-hard cock out of the confines of his boxers.

Bucky let out a hiss when you pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the tip as you wrapped a hand around his shaft. It only took him a couple of kitten licks on the head for his cock to fully harden and you moaned out loud when you felt it pulse against your palm.

His cock was hot and heavy, red and already seeping with pre-cum. And you haven’t even taken him into your mouth yet. Bucky’s hands found purchase on the edge of the couch as he watched you flatten your tongue against his shaft, licking your way back up to the tip and then sucking the head into your mouth.

“Jesus fuck...” Bucky grunted, hips thrusting upwards with need.

You tutted and pulled back, “Stay still and keep your hands on the couch, babe.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose and nodded, letting out a growl when you started pumping his cock in your hand. Your strokes were slow, too slow for Bucky’s liking and good god, the way you were staring up at him was making it hard for Bucky to hold back.

He wanted to take your head and fuck your mouth, wanted to feel you gag around his cock, wanted to see you look up at him with tears in your eyes.

Obviously, that can wait until next time because as much as Bucky loved to take control, seeing you take the wheels on this one was something else.

Bucky’s knuckles turned white when he gripped the couch tighter than ever, his thighs trembling when you finally took his cock into your mouth.

You didn’t go slow, that was for sure. You went straight to it, taking him deep into your throat and keeping him there until you choked. You released him with a gasp, moaning when you saw how Bucky was looking down at you with feral eyes.

“Keep watching me.” You said, darting your tongue out to scoop some of his pre-cum and humming at his taste.

“You’re fuckin’ killing me, sweetheart.” Bucky grunted, scrunching his face in pleasure.

You grinned up at him before taking his cock back into your mouth, hands curling around his knees for support as you went to town. You bobbed your head up and down, letting your tongue swirl around the crown of Bucky’s cock every once in a while.

A mixture of spit and pre-cum started dribbling from your lips as you sucked his cock, humming whenever you felt him hit the back of your throat.

Bucky’s jaw tensed as he watched you, your cheeks hollowing whenever you pulled back. His neck and ears were red as opposed to his hands that were turning white as they clutched onto the edge of the couch so tight, his fingers were close to digging holes through the fabric. He was fighting so hard not to lift his hips up, he felt like he was going to combust any time now.

The vulgar slurping sounds of your mouth as it does wonders to Bucky’s dick rang through the air, coupled with the low growls reverberating from his chest.

“God, baby...fuck...you’re sucking my cock so well.” Bucky moaned, throwing his head back as he focused on how your mouth felt so fucking good around him.

“Watch me, Bucky.” You preened and started pumping his cock with both your hands.

“Wanna see your face when I suck your cock.” You moaned and waited for Bucky to meet your eyes before sucking him back into your mouth.

Bucky let out a growl when your hand squeezed his balls, fondling it in your palm as you continued to bob your head.

The whirring sound of his vibranium arm caught your attention. Bucky was so close, so so close and he was holding back from lifting his hips up that the plates on his arm moved on their own.

You smirked, mouth full of Bucky’s cock and then you sucked him so hard that he came without warning. Ropes of his cum filled your mouth, some escaping from your lips and dripping down to your chin.

“Goddammit!” Bucky grunted and grabbed your head, trying to push you back when you continued to suck.

Bucky was moving his hips away but you refused to let him go, pressing your hands down on his thighs to keep him in place. You sucked and flicked your tongue, ignoring the string of curses that left Bucky’s mouth.

“Baby...jesus...s-stop babe...” Bucky’s moan was never like this, high-pitched and so wanton and it spurred you to keep going, curious to see how long Bucky could take.

Bucky’s toes curled inside his shoes, his entire body feeling tingly from how you kept sucking his cock. His head was spinning and yet he couldn’t look away from you as you continued working him up as you eagerly sucked him.

Bucky’s legs began to tremble, pleasure and pain mixing into a certain sensation that he couldn’t even describe.

It was too much but so good at the same time.

Bucky hissed, his lower lip quivering as he let out a loud groan. You slowly pulled back, lips dragging against his softening shaft and tongue flickering on his slit.

You hummed and wiped your chin clean with the back of your hand. Bucky let out a deep, long sigh before relaxing onto the couch. Resting his head against it as he tried to catch his breath.

You could see the aftershocks course through Bucky, his cock stirring oh so slightly whenever he shuddered.

“Good god, woman.” He breathed out with a chuckle.

He looked divine like that, his forehead sweaty and entire face red. His brows were furrowed, lips pink and swollen from being bitten down whenever he held back on his moans— it made your pussy clench around nothing.

“How are you feeling now?” You teased and moved on top of Bucky, straddling him.

Bucky lifted his head to give you a kiss, “I don’t think I can even remember my own name. Fuck, I thought you weren’t going to stop.” He said, his hands caressing your thighs.

You giggled, “I wouldn’t if you hadn’t moaned so wantonly like that.”

Bucky burst out laughing, “That was my soul leaving my body.”

You hummed and took Bucky’s vibranium hand, bringing it down to your clothed cunt and letting Bucky feel how drenched you already were.

Bucky growled and stroked your pussy through your damp panties, “How about I let you experience what it’s like for your soul to leave your body?”

It was your turn to elicit a moan so wanton and needy, you were sure that you wouldn’t even have a soul left in your body by the time Bucky’s finished with you.

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni @girlfriday007​ @5-seconds-of-mendes @whoth3hellisbucky​​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03

[buckyhoney-library]

volume control, b.b

A/N: Hope all is well, please give me feedback about what you think about this one, I had a lot of fun writing this one!

Request: Hi, I'm not sure if your taking requests right now. But if you are, could you do a Bucky x reader smut where the reader loses her voice so Bucky tries to see how loud she can get in bed without her voice? Thank you. You're an amazing writer.

Warnings: language, 18+, overstimulation, oral (fem rec), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (no glove, no love)

Word Count: 2.8k

Your POV

     The warm ginger flavored tea cooled the burning sensation of my throat. It seemed to be the only thing that I had tried that had calmed the feeling. Laryngitis had made an appearance this week, completely wrecking the use of my voice. Every time I tried to speak; I sound like a boy going through puberty.

     The last couple of days had the worst in terms of soreness- luckily that part is over. All that seems to be left of the illness is the voice cracks and inability to talk about a whisper. It has become more annoying than anything.

      Every time respond to Bucky, you could see the amount of self-control it was taking not to laugh or make a joke about the croaking.

     Dressed in only black spandex and a t-shirt, I pulled myself off the couch with my empty mug in hand. The couch seemed to be my home for the past week. I had called out of work for the week. Knowing that trying to talk to clients while sounding like a pubescent boy wouldn’t be very professional.

     Calling out of work had proven to be more beneficial in more ways than one. It allowed more time to be able to spend more time with my moody boyfriend and catching up on shows that I had been putting off.

     Bucky called off his avengers’ duties this week and took care of me while I wrestled with the illness. Trading in his weapons for running to the store to grab more boxes of tea, throat lozenges, and a variety of ramen.

“How many of those have you been though?” Bucky questions walking past me pouring the hot water in my mug.

     I pulled out a fresh box, ripping the cardboard lid open. It really did seem like we tried everything to relieve the pain. Spoons of honey, throat lozenges, saltwater, nothing helped other than tea. This means I have been drinking it like a madwoman.

“This is the second box since last night,” My voice cracking at the end. We’re making slight progress, the voice cracks getting further apart. I gesture to the bottle of honey; he grabs it from the counter handing it to me, shaking his head.

“You should probably slow down, you’re not gonna have enough for later.”

“That’s why I have you to get me more,” This time he doesn’t hold back on the laughs when he hears the faint cracks and strain. I turn back around in protest of his action, pretending to be upset at him.

     In reality, it was hard to stay irritated with him when he laughs. The pureness of the sound and the smile that would take up his whole face never failed to make me smile.

    He comes up from behind me, wrapping his arm around my torso. With his body pressing against mine, the coolness of the metal against my arms sent shivers down my spine. The hair on his chin tickling my shoulder, watching me as I finish pouring the honey.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, you’re not feeling good” He mumbles, his lips nipping at the base of my neck. Moving my neck to the side, granting him more access to it.

    Bucky peppering kisses along my neck and shoulder. This action causing me to giggle and buck my hips against his and gripping the edge for the counter for support. A small breathy groan leaves his mouth when my hips made contact with his.

“I’m feeling fine now,” I manage to whisper without the croaking sound. He twists my waist, forcing my body to turn and face his. I look up at his blue eyes, they were darker than normal. His facial hair grown out a bit making him look softer and cuddlier.

“You sound better,” Bucky taunted, his voice had gotten lower and his eyes looking down at the gap between our bodies.

“Does it?” As soon as I thought my voice wasn’t going to crack, the words fall out cracked and broken. Ruining the seriousness of my tone.

Bucky rolls his lips in holding back a laugh.

“So good, baby,” Bucky slides his hands underneath the bottom of my shirt.

     A breathy whine escaping my lips, feeling his cool hand along the sides of my hips. His eyebrows rose at the sound,

“You sound so sexy,” His tone lowered and his eyes piercing mine. I pressed my body to him, wrapping my bare arms around his neck. His lips connecting with mine and his arms pulling me tighter, trying to eliminate any and all space between us. 

I can feel his bulge forming against my pelvis- all because of a moan.

     Sinking into each other, our lips matching in rhythm and pace. A raspy yelp leaving my lips as I feel a harsh smack against my right ass cheek. Completely forgetting the only thing separating it was thin spandex- Bucky’s favorite article of clothing. He says it is one of his favorite things that we have created.

     He liked the way it made my ass jiggle and moved with whenever I took a step. He especially went crazy when they’re rid up when I’d grab something from the top shelf in the kitchen, exposing the bottoms of my ass. He never failed to smack it, sometimes leaving his handprint through the fabric.

    Bucky’s flesh hand grabbing a fist full of ass and jiggling it himself. His release of the flesh causing me to whine again.

    The bulge that was currently trapped in his basketball shorts, started to throb. If only I could take it in my mouth and relieve all the pent-up pressure.

     Bucky’s lips moved away from mine but kissing alongside my jawline and down my throat. His hands now gripping my hips preparing me to jump back onto the kitchen island. I jumped, allowing him to guide me onto the cold granite.

     With his lips disconnecting from the side of my neck, his eyes peering into mine. It’s as if I could read his mind, knowing exactly what he wants. All I do is nod,

“I want to hear you moan, baby,” His hands teasing the waistband of the spandex. Dipping his fingers inside, but not going far. The feeling making my cunt moisten.

     Bucky’s true talent was his ability to tease. He was never in a rush, always took his time making sure that I was dripping before even daring to pull his dick out. It was like he got off on that the sight of the arousal dripping down the sides of my cunt.

“I want to see if you can still get loud,” My breath hitches, and my core tightening. My chest rises and falls heavier at the thought.

     As vocal as I am in bed, Bucky never put to the test how loud I could go. He was always satisfied with how vocal I ended being. What he loved, even more, was seeing me struggle to keep quiet. Teasing my clit with his fingers till I couldn’t help but moan.

     Bucky’s fingers starting in slow circles, watching me twitch and shudder. He’d dip his fingers inside gathering all the juices and using it to add pleasure. He’d moan at the sight of how visibly hard it was for me to stay silent. Some nights, he’d give me a towel or blanket to bite down on. Other nights, he’d want to see me struggle and wouldn’t give me anything to help.

    The moment I would make even the tiniest of whimpers, the pleasure would be ripped from me and I would be left not being able to cum till I could prove I could do it.

Those nights he was ruthless. Edging me till I was in tears.

Every time he’d pull away, making it almost painful to stay quiet the next time.

      I spread my legs giving him access to the place that was about to cause me a great deal of regret. His fingers slide inside the waistband of the shorts, bucking my hips at the contact. His fingers quickly being removed before they touched my clit.

“You fucking tease,” My voice was barely audible, his lips curl into a devilish smirk. Without any sort of permission, I removed my shirt. My breast dropped and Bucky’s eyes flickered to my bare chest, lighting up instantly. My nipples already hardening at exposure to the cold air.

     Within seconds, Bucky taking one in his mouth and his hand squeezing and kneading the other harshly. Eagerly tugging on my nipple with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. I whimpered with every tug. I could see the smile on his face when I looked down.

     I wrapped my arms loosely around his head, keeping him focused on my breast. The only movement being when he’d move off the other giving attention to it. The nipping and tugging making my cunt completely soaked. I could feel it soaking through the spandex. The harsh treatment towards my breasts making the ache between my legs so strong, I thought Bucky could feel it.

   Bucky took his time giving each breast a moment to be assaulted, leaving them both sore. I silently prayed that my cunt was next.

    Bucky pulled away from my breasts, removing his shirt. The sight of his abdomen and dog tags, causing my pussy to throb a little harder. He places lips on my collarbone, slowly laying back on the counter and shoving the opened mail and assignment files on the floor.

    The combination of the cold granite and his hand made my back arch. He placed small kisses down my stomach till he got to my naval- that’s when he started to drag his tongue down till he got to the band of my spandex. I hold my breath as he removes my shorts, finally exposing my slick cunt. 

    I pushed my hips into the counter motioning the need for something to relieve the throbbing.

“So pretty, baby…” Bucky murmurs sliding his middle finger down the sopping wet folds, teasing my entrance. His finger only sliding into the first knuckle, he still standing while he does so. A scratchy moan getting past my lips.

“Yes, baby, I want to hear you.” Without warning he inserts two fingers and curling them, hitting the spongey tissue. My walls start contracting.

My throat tensing as I unexpectedly whine at the feeling.

“Good girl, I know you can get louder.”  Bucky eyes not leaving mine, I am now propped on my elbows and grinding my hips into his fingers. He adds his metal thumb to my clit, rubbing the bud at an agonizingly slow pace. Bucky removed his fingers from my cunt, bringing them to my lips.

    I open my lips enough for his fingers to enter. I sucked the clean, tasting myself. The saliva from my mouth being used as lubrication before he slid them back inside. The circles around my clit become faster. Our eyes met and his pace quickened. My jaw-dropping from the pure pleasure of his fingers. His mouth dropping with mine and his eyes darkened as he watched my body start to jerk.

A string of curses left my mouth and my vocal cords struggling to get any sound out.

“You’re doing so good” I laid back down, feeling my limbs fall weak to the feeling of my orgasm approaching. The soreness of my throat getting tighter, but not caring.

     Bucky crouched down coming eye to eye with my cunt, still fingering fucking my entrance. His thumb left my clit, but it was replaced with his lips. His tongue swirling around the bud. His facial hair scratching the sides of my legs adding more sensation down there. His fingers haven’t stopped, if anything they had gotten faster.

     My eyes rolling back, not being able to properly keep them open. I groaned and gasped at the fast-approaching orgasm. There was no denying that this would wreck my voice even more than it was before, but the feeling of his tongue and fingers making the future pain bearable.

“Fuck!” I went into pure ecstasy. I jerked my hips towards his mouth, my lower half becoming incredibly sensitive. Bucky doesn’t even seem to notice my body twitching. I gripped the kitchen towel beside me,

“Bucky, I-“ I was interrupted by his fingers curling again hurling me over the edge. My throat tensing again, it felt like it was bleeding inside.

         Bucky continues to attack my cunt with his tongue. His fingers leave my hole and join his other hand holding my hips down. I didn’t know how much more of the pleasure I could take.

“Such a good girl, you taste so good.” His voice muffled against my throbbing pussy as he licks the rest of the arousal up. I manage to prop myself up again, our eyes meeting again.

     His mouth glistening from my juices. His eyes don’t break eye contact, staring at me as a string of spit drips onto my clit. I watched in awe of him, he licks it up flicking my cunt one last time. My body has cooled down from the brutal assault.

“You’re doing so well, princess.” He brought himself up, I see the wet spot against his briefs. He was soaked through with precum. The tip was red and swollen, looking like it was going to burst with only a few strokes.

“But I know you can do better,” I sit up completely and watch as he frees his dick. It’s glistening with his liquid, reach to take hold of it in my hand. Bucky stops my hand from doing so, guiding it around his neck. Bucky gives his cock a few strokes, before sliding it up and down my folds.

His cock twitching against them.

The harsh usage of my voice was starting to affect my ability to even get any sound out at all.

     Bucky pushes slowly into me and in return, I clawed at his back. Our bodies have no room in between us anymore, my forehead pressed against his shoulder. His pace quickening. His cock stretching my walls and filling my cunt. The size of him never fails to amaze me.

With all I might, I managed to croak out a shocking volume:

“Faster, please Bucky,” He whined at the sound of my raspy plead.

    His thrusts turning into pure pounding at this point. His arms tightly wrapped around my torso. With the support around my back, my head falls back at the feeling of his cock ramming into me.

“You’re doing so good taking my dick,” He peppers kisses around my throat and collarbone.

My nails digging into his skin.

    My moans are loud, and the pain of my throat was masked by the intense pleasure building in my stomach. I couldn’t even think with his cock inside me. My orgasm building as his pace becomes inconsistent. He was close as well.

     I was surprised he lasted this long considering how he went in, already wanting to cum. All that was coming out of my mouth were a mix of curses and moans. His eyes lighting up with every sound that fell from my lips.

“I don’t how much more I can take,” My voice was in shreds, it was painful trying to speak at this point, but I couldn’t conceal them anymore. Not with his current speed and power.

“Cum all over this dick,” With his approval, my walls start pulsating and my forehead falls back against his shoulder. I watched his dick disappear inside me while I cried in pleasure, my legs quivering at the intense pleasure.

     Tears welling as the pain in my throat was becoming too much. Bucky powered through my orgasm, before his cock twitching inside me. His load bursting inside me. Bucky holds us in the same position while we are recovering from our highs. My pussy is milking every last drop of him, whimpering one last time as he pulls out.

   My breathing still heavy and the piercing pain in the back of my mouth becoming more prominent. I lay back against the counter, catching my breath.

“You got so loud, baby, I’m so proud of you,” Bucky coos while grabbing the kitchen towel that I was previously using as a grip.

         He glides the fabric against my cunt, whipping away his cum that was leaking out of me. I twitch with the contact with my clit. He takes my hands and pulls me back up to meet his eyes. I try to speak but wince at the pain shooting through my throat like daggers. His face instantly filling with worry.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have- “He begins to panic, but I grab his wrists,

“It’s okay,” The only volume I could speak in being below a whisper. I hop off the table picking up my discarded clothes, sliding them back on. I bend down, picking up his briefs, and hand them to him.

“It was worth it,” I chuckle. He takes the briefs from me and looks at the abandoned mug.

“I’ll just have to get you more,”

[ares-would-be-proud]

Anon said Is it alright to request some head cannons-nsfw preferably for Reiner being in love with his precious step-sister? Like he has to take care of her so no one hurts her, and who better to take care of her then himself?

Reiner thinking he's the only man good enough for you, his precious step-sister.

{ Reiner x fem!reader | tw:stepcest, tw:possessiveness, tw:overprotective, tw:overstimulation | smut, forbidden love | modern }

{ "Mars and Venus, Allegory of Peace" 1770 by Louis-Jean-François Lagrenée 1724 - 1805 } (ha! Get it? Bc they're also siblings)

Sees it as his own job to protect and dot on you, not letting you go somewhere alone without him by your side, keeping an arm around you at all times.

Dotting in the way he never forgets your favourite snacks each time he goes to the store, takes over cooking duty when your dad and his mom go out, makes sure you're sleeping and eating well.

Being skeptical of your friends, and making his own friends get on edge if their eyes happen to stare at you for a bit too long for his liking.

Bertolt never meets your eyes because of that, even Annie just glues her eyes to her phone whenever you walk in the room.

Will literally intimidate people from even thinking of approaching you by his presence alone, you could safely walk anywhere anytime with him by your side.

And yet, with you he melts at every flutter of your eyelashes and twirl. Becoming putty in your hands with every soft touch and small peak you give his cheek.

His brain almost stops each time you smile.

And while to everyone else it seems like he's just an overprotective big brother, behind closed doors it's another story.

His hand trailing up your thighs under the dinner table while his mom tells you about her day.

His lips kissing down your neck whenever you wear that low-cut top, hands going under the fabric and tugging down your bra till your breasts spill over them.

Turning a deaf ear to your protest's about being late to your friend's house, his attention solely on sucking marks down your chest before taking a nipple between his lips and sucking while flickering the other.

By the end of it, you had to change into a long neck shirt from the amount of hickies and marks he took his sweet time leaving behind.

Is the type to take you with him places, his own personal cheerleader.

Loves making you call him big brother, even if you weren't younger he'd still demand it.

I say "demand" but in reality he's just pouting with puppy eyes.

Since your dad married his mom, he was smitten the day he saw you at the wedding.

Oh and he will literally buy you anything if you play your cards right, even if he goes broke.

Really easy to manipulate if you're willing to play the role of the cheering sweet little sister, his heart easily swaying with the sway of your short skirt, throat going dry at your honey filled voice calling him the best big brother.

Really really wants to take care of you.

Like really, will find excuses to let him take care of you and do stuff for you.

Although nothing comes without a price…

Let's just say what's normal sex for him is overstimulation for the normal person, he has insane stamina

And his cooing for you that you can give him another orgasm, just one more.

You both could be sitting on the couch, watching a movie you've been wanting to watch for a while, and he will pop a boner because the way you giggled at a scene was really adorable-

Even while knowing that his mom was just a room away—fixing both of you some dinner in the kitchen—it didn't stop your step brother from trailing his big hands up your legs, squeezing the plump of your thighs before pulling at the hem of your shorts, an intense stare in his eyes.

"Come here" he says while patting his thighs, "really missed you baby, wanna feel you against me." 

Coaxing you into giving in, not wait for a reply before letting his hands do all the work to sit you on his lap. Burying his face in your neck as his hot breath tickles your skin, almost whining about how tiring today was while his hands rub circles on your back.

You don't miss the curving of his lips when he asks if you could kiss it better for him, make your big brother feel better.

His hands start trailing up and down your back instead, feeling the softness of your shirt, the curve of your ass, circling around your waist before going up again, adding just enough pressure to loosen any tense muscle you might have.

You try not to give in despite his coaxing, mouth in a frown as you stare at the remote still clutched in your hand, the sound of the movie you were watching still playing in the background almost mocking you.

"Reiner can't this wa-" you try to brush him off but the rocking of his knee between your legs shuts you up, making your grind back against them to get more friction as you press your thighs together.

Eyes glossy as your brain gets clouded by the pleasure, your older brother bouncing you on his leg till your toes curl and mewls escape your lips. 

You hear him shushing you, murmuring how your step mom might hear you, only to grind against your dampening shorts faster.

The knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter as you get closer to the edge, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, your own hips pushing back against him.

His arms get a firm hold of your hips, stilling them as he stops his own leg too, mere seconds before you get that final push.

"Want your brother to make you feel really good? Want me to take care of you huh?"

You quickly nod without thinking, aching for any sort of relief. He rewards you with a kiss, slow and gentle as if you're some delicate soft thing he needs to pamper.

-

And to him, you are. That's why he took you to his room despite the growing urge to push you against the nearest surface and ram inside you,

No, your big brother would never. He sees it as his duty to protect you from everything and so it follows that he wouldn't settle for less than a soft bed and a pillow under your back.

That's why he tucks you against him the second you get on the bed, his back to the headboard with you sitting between his legs, back against his chest.

His hand slipping past the elastic band of your panties, fingers painfully slowly moving up and down your slit before parting your lips. 

Your back arching when they start toying with your puffy clit, rubbing circles around it and flickering it till your soaked panties start clinging to your wet pussy.

Brain turning into mush when his fingers shove into your sopping hole, the faster he goes the louder your whimpers get as his thick fingers thrust in and out.

His other hand put enough pressure against your stomach to keep you in place when your thighs began to quiver, the more you squirm in place when his thumb presses down your now swollen clit the more your back rubs against his hardening cock.

"Fuck- just like that." Groans slip past his lips with each roll of his hips against your ass, precum starting to seep through the fabric of his pants.

He's as desperate as you are.

It's not long before he has you creaming on his fingers, watching you unfold and shake before gushing against his hand. He slowly pulls his fingers out as sticky lines cling to them, looking at you panting with your legs still shaking, before shoving them back in and fucking your own mess back inside you.

You let out a strangled scream at the punishing pace, head lolling to the side from the overstimulation and mind going completely blank.

All sorts of compliments and soft words leave his lips, praising you as he forces a second orgasm out of you, having you turn into putty in his hand.

Too much- it's too much, you're too sensitive and barely able to form coherent sentences, a shaking quivering babbling mess, too high in pleasure to notice the tear stains down your cheeks. Attempting to finally catch your breath now that your brother is satisfied.

If only.

"You're ready for me sweetheart?" He says, voice laced with anticipation as he pats your messy cunt, making your knees buck. "Ready for your big brother's cock filling up this pretty pussy?"

One second he's tugging your soaked paintes to the side, cold sending shivers up your spine, the next he's tapping the head of his cock against your hole, pushing up your slippery folds till the tip rubs against your sensitive clit, making more tears collect clouding your vision.

Cock throbbing at just the idea of your gummy walls squeezing him inside, making his thrusts stutter and grip almost bruising against your skin. Filling his room with the sound of skin on skin slapping as his hips slam against your wet thighs

The image of your knees folded against your chest till the base of his cock disappears inside, reaching impossibly deep till he's kissing the entrance of your womb before slamming against the rough patch of skin that makes you drool.

It's driving him crazy with lust.

And despitet how much he wants nothing more than to fuck his cum inside you, fill you up and plug you with his cock, really make sure that you're tied to him for life and no other man will even think of looking your way with, he will still pull out.

Sprouts of cum rushing out his swollen cock as he pulls out with a wet pop, whie ropes painting your stomach and chest instead, going down your thighs and the curve of your ass before staining the sheets. 

Just have your brain swimming in milk and honey as you take in the afterglow, he'll run soothing circles up your thighs while you doze off to the rise and fall of his chest.

The scenes play out in perfect order in his mind. Yeah, just the thought alone is enough to make him want to go for three rounds at least till he's cumming dry. 

"Alright, spread your legs more for me, yeah just like that."

[mypoisonedvine]

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband.  you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t.  which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.  

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more.  He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue.  Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him?  A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable.  I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up.  But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman.  It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend.  Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all.  He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.  

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment.  He loved it, but he hated it, too.  

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

//

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.  

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight.  At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again.  As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation.  “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone.  But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times.  “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months.  And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that.  He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not.  This was something else entirely.  "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start.  In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what.  “And he… he knows that you… want that?  I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?”  He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way.  "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating.  It doesn't even work.  He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something.  And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal.  Do you know how often people talk about sex?  It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes.  Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night?  Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’?  Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.  

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again.  “It's been so long since somebody touched me.  I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional.  "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted.  “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me.  I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.  

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying.  “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow.  His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.  

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners.  It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head.  He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little.  And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.  

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants.  He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud.  He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation.  You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you.  Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.  

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough.  After all, you had asked him to give you everything.  So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.  You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking.  He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration.  Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle.  He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.”  Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it.  It was just too good to be true.  So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again.  Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that.  Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him?  He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it.  "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.  

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him.  It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place.  That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.”  And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on.  “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh?  You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly.  “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin.  "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly.  The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially.  Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true.  He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly.  “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally.  He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way.  so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore.  When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip.  You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh.  The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster.  He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover.  For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be.  He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it.  He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment.  Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily.  Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then.  "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come.  It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck.  His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it.  But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently.  You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.  

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.  

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.  

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest.  He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away.  When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

[cryptiql]

riptide

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, some mildly suggestive flashbacks + detailed descriptions of drowning. as always, please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 4.9k

a/n: welcome to the sequel of smoke signals. perish :)

dabi made a mistake. the knowledge sits in the bottom of his stomach like a lump of lead; his innards twisting into a knot whenever the memory of you crosses the expanse of his sleep deprived mind. the burns under his eyes might as well be bags, but they aren't large enough to bear the weight of his guilt. it isn't much better sitting on his shoulders, but the repercussions of pain are what keep him from letting it go, and that's exactly what he wants. no—it's what he deserves. he deserves the feeling like his head is going to burst; the ache in his spine from too many hours spent hunched over himself with a bottle clutched between his shaking hands; the burning intensity from overuse of his quirk. the extra inches of marred skin serve as reminders of what he did, but it's not half as satisfying when the pain doesn't last.

he wants to scratch at the wounds until they ooze that bitter garnet liquid; until he's suffocated by the metallic scent and forced to endure as the taste of blood engraves itself on his tongue when he chokes on it. he wants to suffer—the slower the better—because not even the strongest alcohol can cleanse his sins, nor the stench of his regret.

dabi made a mistake. it won't be the last time, he's able to admit, because his ego is too shriveled from the lack of your warmth, and his heart yearns for the passion of your kiss that still lingers on his lips. when the loft echoes with fragments of the city's ambience, drowning him in an incessant racket, he longs for the lighthouse. this place is infested with selfish ingrates, scuttling about in search of the next outcast to torment, and it makes him wish he still had that safe space at the shore. your siren song was a drug to put him at ease, and now he is without it, and the withdrawal has taken effect.

he knew this would come to pass. dabi overdosed on your love; your affection; your everything; all while watching the consequences unravel at a snail's pace, almost as if he were being teased by the inevitable end. he let it happen. he did this to himself, so he won't shake his hands at the sky, cursing gods he doesn't know exist; as if they would concern themselves with the faults of men like him.

he knew this would happen.

but then, so did you. you had to have known by the empty space in your bed where he used to lay; by the dates that kept getting postponed and the meaningless promises made to make up for them; by the shortage of visits, even just to say "hello" before he dropped from the face of the earth once more. if this were true, it meant that you were suffering just the same—nay, more than him, by forcing yourself into a state of compliance whenever he told you it was time for him to go. dabi could pretend like he didn't see your fingers twitching; resisting the urge to reach out for him; just as he could pretend like the rivulets of tears on your cheeks did not exist, though they begged to be swept away by him. god, he wants to hold your face again, noses brushing together and your dreamy sighs melding with his raspy laughter.

he had told himself that you wouldn't deter him from his goal, but even that seems like a pipe dream now. he feels like an underachiever, chasing a future that can't be set in stone when he already had you, which should have been enough. dabi realizes that the flames of his own passionate desire for freedom have burned you in the process, and it hurts more than he can put into words. you were always better with words, he reminisces, tracing the coffee stained parchment sitting in his pocket.

dabi has long since stopped reading the letters you sent, but he still carries them with him wherever he goes. they anchor him to both earth and sky; the reality that he's lost you, threatening to swallow him from under his feet; and the hope that he'll find you again, one day, after all this is over. "and just what do you think you're doing?"

you can see his reflection in the stove's glass sheen, his mouth drawn up into a devious smirk as he leans on the bedroom doorframe, clad in nothing but his briefs from the previous night. the purplish burns scaling his collarbone and abdomen give him a roguish look that—if you possessed no self-restraint—would normally have you lunging at him like a starved beast. you manage to smirk back at him, subtly shaking your hips while opening the stove door to pull out the doughy mound of bread inside. to your delight, you hear him grumble something not-so family-friendly before he snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. you had never once thought that the feeling of staples against your skin would feel so good, but now you can hardly imagine being without it, and you immediately melt into dabi's touch.

he breathes softly in your ear, chuckling when you flinch in response, goosebumps stippling your flesh. by the way your cheeks puff out in embarrassment, he should take that as a sign to stop, but fuck, your pouting is just too cute for him to resist, especially when your worship-able body is basking in the afterglow of dusk. you keen when dabi starts peppering your shoulder blades with kisses, but nearly dropping the pan causes your senses to return, and you whisper a plea. luckily, he appears to be in a merciful mood, because he relents his onslaught of affection to rest his chin in the crook of your neck.

when he finally notices what you're making, he can't help but squeeze you tighter.

"is that a cake?"

you turn to give him a peck on the nose, which is rewarded with a halfhearted snap of his teeth just millimeters from your mouth.

"that'd be right. though, i'm astonished you know which way is up after last night." your sing-song tone of voice spurs him to squeeze your thigh, and you would have shooed him away if not for how much you liked it. dabi murmurs something unintelligible, the vibrations shooting straight down your spine, and proceeds to remove himself from you in order to better observe the baked delicacy.

"mm. what's it for?" he asks, discretely swiping a bit of the pink colored icing from the bowl to his right. sweet, but not sickeningly so.

you are none the wiser when dipping a spatula into the contents and smoothing it over the cake, a soft smile playing at your lips.

"you never told me when your birthday is, so i'm taking a wild guess. figured i'd whip this up as a surprise, but you woke up earlier than i suspected." dabi swears that his heart is about to burst from behind his ribcage, and all because you're too goddamn perfect. you may as well be a priceless work of art in museum that he's been prohibited from touching. however, the fading marks on your skin signify that he's done more than just touch, and he takes pride in the fact you can't seem to move further than two steps in any direction without faltering.

"i know angel food cake is your favorite—" dabi silences you with a kiss; bruising and passionate; and takes the spatula from your hand, blindly setting it aside on the counter. your protests are short-winded as he lifts you from your behind before promptly turning the oven off and spinning on his heel. he's memorized these halls well enough to not bump into anything during his trek back to the bedroom. you pull away, albeit with a hint of reluctance, just to glare at him.

"what about the—" dabi kisses you again, and while you don't seem too happy about being interrupted twice in a row, the shared heat between your bodies distracts you from being upset.

"you're off by about two months, doll. besides, i think i'd much rather have you as a late birthday treat."

dabi clenches his jaw at the memory, his knuckles whitening with how tenaciously he grips the tattered fabric of his jeans. the league's new base is just as rundown and close to crumbling as he feels, but his despair is masked by the rage that overpowers it. why couldn't you have been a normal couple? why couldn't dabi have grown up with a father who loved him; with a quirk that didn't gradually destroy him and without the resulting scars that made him a hideous monster in the eyes of all who saw him? why couldn't he be as beautiful on the inside as you said he was on the outside? why couldn't he just be happy, after all this time?

why? why? why?

dabi finds his answer hidden in the ashen battleground strewn with rubble and remnants of burnt remains. he finds it in the fear of his victims' expressions before the snare of death claims them in a flourish of blue inferno. it's written there in bold, ichor dripping from his fingers as they smear the message with red.

the privilege of living a normal life is, and always will be, beyond his reach. murder does not warrant mercy, and the only person willing to give it to him is miles away, still desperate for him to come back.

as fate would have it, you and dabi lived worlds apart, but you still look at the same sunset; the same array of stars forming constellations that told stories of your life shared together. they replay in his head like a record stuck on repeat, and only when the song ends does he find himself back in the clutches of his childhood trauma, rather than your embrace.

"dabi? dabi!" his trademark scowl automatically takes place when a finger prods and pulls at his cheek, the familiar voice of twice shaking him from his deep contemplation. jin has been so unfortunate as to suffer minor scorches from the ravenette's flames, on account of him being too bothersome at the wrong moments, and so he instantly backs away at the first indication of danger brewing in the air around him. with how on edge he's felt lately, he really should have gone on a walk to relieve some stress, but the looming knowledge that he can't go to the lighthouse would only ruin the trip.

dabi is fully prepared to smack jin's hand away until he sees what he's holding. he'd recognize that handwriting anywhere, and even without it, the scent of saltwater and freshly baked bread clings to the paper, altering him of yet another one of your efforts to communicate with him. dabi feigns indifference towards the object; quite the contrary to his thinning patience as twice waves it above his head excitedly.

"you've got mail! who's is from? probably a useless nobody! or maybe a secret admirer? but who would admire you?"

to his dismay, the commotion has grabbed toga's attention, and she veers over to their location with a giddy grin on her face. she all but drapes herself over dabi as he snatches the letter from jin, and it doesn't help his struggle when she clings to him like a koala. after a bout of kicking and shoving, he manages to break free of her grasp, grimacing at her lengthy, high-pitched whines of disapproval.

"and can you believe hawks was the one to deliver it? i didn't take him for a carrier bird. . ."

dabi doesn't hear the rest, nor does he intent to, because he's already making his way to the nearest exit with haggard breaths. whoever calls out for him and whatever they say are the last of his concerns right now, and they're abruptly cut off when he slams the door behind him. the summer heat wills beads of sweat to paint his forehead, but he soon finds comfort under the shade of a tree, cicadas buzzing noisily overhead. he would sooner keel over and die than thank the birdbrain hero for catering to him—and by extension, you—but now that the note is there, begging to be read, he can't help but feel some sort of gratitude.

"i need you to do something for me."

the bristles of hawks' feather hover over dabi's pulse in a threatening manner, but he feels no more in peril than he would at the cruelty of a baby chick. he knows the number two hero won't harm him, at least not without regretting it later, and this is the perfect time to use that to his advantage. hawks narrows his eyes at him, nose wrinkling in accord.

"why would i do anything for you after that stunt you pulled?" he snarls, and dabi almost has to laugh at the drastic switch in personality. the way he presents himself to the public is a true contrast compared to the persona only he and the league have had the pleasure of seeing.

"because if you don't, everyone will know you've been fraternizing with the enemy, and we wouldn't want number two falling off his high pedestal, now would we?"

this time, dabi audibly laughs when hawks' guise wavers. the other grits his teeth, slowly withdrawing the feather and allowing it to fall limp at his side. he revels in his victory, short though it be, and reaches into his pocket to procure a letter marked with your name and address. putting your location at the disposal of a hero isn't something he's proud of doing, but it's all he has left, and he doesn't have the resolve to tell you directly.

coward, his conscious mocks as he holds it out for hawks to take. the winged man stares at it with befuddlement, his movements stalling here and there when he seizes the paper between his thumb and pointer finger. dabi tuts lightly but menacingly, yanking hawks towards him by the wrist and igniting his quirk to leave a faint mark there.

"you're gonna deliver this for me, no questions asked. don't you dare open it."

despite the clear uncertainty, hawks took heed of the ominous demand and carried it out later that night. he had not expected a young man with tear-stained cheeks to greet him at the door, much less the endless babble of 'thank you's as you took the letter with shaking hands.

dabi hadn't wished for you to send one back, but the ongoing stream of them was considered fair, after he'd left without much of a trace. still, he had promised himself that he would never read them, for fear of it opening the wound inflicted by having to say goodbye.

dabi can't understand the sudden change of mind for the life of him, and yet, he finds that he doesn't care whether it opposes every rule he set to keep you safe—to keep himself safe. he tears open the envelope and slumps against the tree trunk, bark and leather grating together as he hesitantly unfolds the parchment, briefly shutting his eyes as a last act of resistance to the helpless cry from within; longing for the familiarity of your poetic words. instead of the delicate precision that was to be anticipated, dabi stared down at your messy scrawl, a carnal fear rising from within and causing his throat to clamp up. the memories begin to flash at a faster rate, like an old-timey picture film. dabi has just finished putting the kettle on to boil when hears the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of your slippers shuffling across the floor. he snickers, remembering that the only pair you have is the one he bought you; a well worn match that looks oddly like cloud bunnies. you've made sure to exemplify how much you love the gift by wearing them around the house on rainy or lazy days, all paired with a wistful smile. this morning is no different as you worm your way under dabi's hold and press your face into his chest, a satisfied groan escaping you when he cards his fingers through your hair and scratches the scalp.

the robe you wear is half-hanging from your shoulders, which makes for an enticing view from where dabi stands, but he simply kisses the crown of your head and continues waiting for the pot to simmer.

"did you hear that noise?" you slur, just barely discernable over the kettle's shrieking. dabi quirks a brow in question as you rub the leftover grogginess from your eyes, tiredly nodding at the back window.

"little past midnight, i think. coulda sworn i heard somethin' rifling around in the trash." dabi squints at this new information while eyeing your appearance. the dark circles and intermittent yawning indicate a lack of sleep, and if he weren't there to keep you steady, you might collapse onto the floor as a snoring heap. if it really disturbed him, he should have woken me up, he thinks, pulling you closer with an ever-deepening frown. you snuggle up to him as if it's second nature, sleepily giggling away when his digits stray too close to your side.

"s'probably raccoons, but if you're worried, i can stay longer just to make sure." you look up at him with nothing short of pure, unbridled adoration, cupping his face and squishing it gently, to your own entertainment. after a moment of consideration, you shake your head.

"nah, you're probably right."

the feeling hits dabi like a tidal wave, dragging him below the raging surface; far below where the light of day cannot touch. it suffocates him and brings rise to the sickening taste of bile on his tongue, but he doesn't have time to spare in throwing it all up, so he swallows it. withered patches of grass crunch under his feet as he peels himself from the tree and breaks into a dash, sparing your letter the flames fueled by his anguish as to let it drift in the breeze, the single sentence written on it already engraved in his mind.

it wasn't raccoons.

dabi doesn't care what shigaraki will have to say about this when he gets back. the only thing he cares about is that you'll still be alive to say anything to him when he reaches you, and that whoever has invaded your home is willing to die for what they've done, or what they're currently doing, and fuck—he isn't even sure if this is you calling for help or not, but he can't risk being right.

the distance between the base and the lighthouse feels lightyears apart, yet simultaneously at arms length when dabi is running at speeds he hasn't ever been able to achieve before. if he stumbles at any point during his sprint, or if he happens to bump into an unsuspecting civilian on the street, he doesn't notice. the resonant thumping of his own heartbeat is all that he can hear as he thanks the gods for the flow of traffic being so spaced out, otherwise it would be near impossible for him to reach you in time.

in time for what? he has to ask. dabi doesn't even want to think about the repercussions, but the scenarios arrive in rivulets despite the mental trapeze he goes through to push them down, and they only continue to grow into oceans; darker, colder and harboring thoughts too gruesome for even someone of his caliber to handle. he won't realize until much later that he'd forgotten to put on his disguise, but the way people ogle at him with fear and disgust does not suppress the need to protect you.

even now, he can sense the pressure building behind his eyes, though it's more painful that it used to be. dabi hasn't cried in months, and it shows by how unabating the rivers of blood trickle from his skin grafts, despite his feverish attempts to stop them. look at yourself, holding together by a thread and weeping in public like a child whose lost his mother in the crowd. it wouldn't have come to this if he had stayed.

something shifts in the scenery; a distinct line drawn between the city and its neighboring countryside; but it makes no difference to the impending peril that looms ahead. the closer he gets, the sooner he'll find you waiting for him, dead or alive. dabi staggers, his breath hitching at the thought, as well as the harsh sting of pain that erupts when his knee collides with the gravel below. he pushes himself forward in little time, a strangled yell ripping his throat raw as his vision settles on the top of the lighthouse, peeking over the hillside. you have to be there—you just have to. he isn't done with you yet, and you're sure as hell not done with him.

the earth is damp beneath his feet, and it soaks through the canvas of his shoes whilst he darts past the boulevard and onto your property, crying out to you. surely, you must hear him. surely—

dabi practically hurls himself at the front door, his blood running cold when it opens for him effortlessly and swings ajar to reveal the living room, upturned and scattered with broken bits and pieces of furniture. there's no sign of you or whoever did this. the oakwood flooring groans under his weight as he barrels down the hall, peering into every room, beneath your bed and any other place where you could be hiding. nothing. his search ends in vain at the front doorstep, where he stands hunched over and dry heaving. no, no, no. you can't be gone.

"y/n!" he shouts. his only response is the crashing of waves against the shore and the incessant cawing of seagulls. for a moment, dabi forgets how to breathe, and then the ability returns to him; his legs aching horribly as he rushes to the beach. the arrangement of rocks is sporadic at first, but they gradually form large clumps the further he carries on, urging him to squeeze between the narrower openings. it comes with some difficulty, but at last he is able to hobble onto the sandy coast and rest his sights upon the vast sea. he can recall when seeing its murky blue sea would have put him at ease, but now it only causes his senses to be clouded with distress.

"y/n!" the once calm ripples rise into rolling billows that drench the shoreline in frothy heaps of algae, wreckage and blood. it curls and disbands within the ocean to pollute its cerulean hues with ones of scarlet red, and just like that, dabi's heart sinks like the titanic. he'll never forget the sight of you, face-down in the water; your favorite shirt slashed to shreds, clinging to your body as nothing more than a tattered mess. dabi wades into the water until it reaches his ankles, completely numb to its freezing temperature as he sinks down to hoist you up. he rests you on his thighs and presses his lips onto yours with urgency, shortly pulling back so that he can thrust his palms upon your chest and push. he doesn't care to remember how many times he repeats this, but when he finally sits back on his haunches to release a stifled curse, the feeling of dread has only just begun to take control.

you've never looked so pale.

a guttural sob wrenches itself past his grinding teeth as more tears arise, dappling your cheeks like raindrops. it wracks his body and sends forth a surge of agony to course through his veins. dabi cups your face with a shaking hand, the other secured around your waist while he kisses you, his erratic pleas falling upon deaf ears.

"come back. . .come back." his bawling ceases to end, no matter the abrasive pain blossoming in his gullet.

"c'mon, doll. where's that sweet voice of yours?" his thumb strokes your bottom lip as though beckoning you to speak. when nothing follows, he makes a pathetic sniveling sound mixed with something broken; a blubber or whine, he does not know. the burden of your lifeless form causes the reality to set in; a dagger piercing his insides and twisting as to drag the most blood-curdling screams from him.

dabi loved you, and he wishes he had the strength to say it when you were still there. it was only within the presence of his own demons that he was able to utter his affections; curled into himself and waiting for a reply that would never come, carried on the wind that bit his skin. he loved you because you held him like a child when his father hadn't even the heart to acknowledge him as his own. you spoke his name—his real name—as though the blood on his hands was not there; like you had washed it away yourself through acts of tenderness that he did not deserve.

and now you're gone.

you're gone, and—

dabi's entire body jolts with a start, a familiar heat dancing across the grafts of his marred skin. a faint blue glow radiates from his fists, which are tightly fastened the weighted blanket that lays crumpled atop his legs. he lets go with a shuttering gasp, observing the black smudges that reside where his flames once were, then blinking owlishly at his surroundings. the room is shrouded in darkness, all save for the bedside table to the left of him that is dimly lit by a flickering oil lamp. that, and the spaces illuminated by the moon's brilliance, showering the floor with multicolored spots as it glistens through the stained glass window. something slots into place, but all it does is send dabi's mind into overdrive.

where is he? where are you? are you really dead? everything hurts.

his nails drag down the length of his arms, seeking some sort of comfort in the pain that blooms there. it doesn't last long, however, when the bed suddenly dips, and a soothing warmth is placed on the small of his back.

"touya?" you croak, your words lingering with the remnants of sleep. dabi—no—touya, swears that he could cry again, right then and there. his eyes flit over your torso, where several scars in varying sizes have desecrated the skin. as he idly traces the pink lines, one final memory surfaces from the depths of his subconscious. him, desperately pounding your sternum; the last threads of denial snapping in tune; and you, coughing and spewing both curses and whatever seawater that had clogged up your lungs. touya held you in that same position for hours, listening as your ragged wheezing turned into hiccupping sobs. hauling you inside had been no easy feat, and having to hear your muffled groans while he stitched you up by the crackling hearth was no better, but the evening after had been pleasant.

you could not recollect the face of the intruder, and with such little information to go off of, touya was left to wallow in self-loathing for love he had almost lost. no amount of therapy could prevent the following nightmares and panic attacks, but in time, the rekindling of your relationship was proved successful, and dabi was prepared to repay you for the moments where you consoled him.

it wasn't just a dream. it had all happened, and yet here you were, alive and well.

a pensive look crosses your features when you note how quiet touya is, and you take it as a sign to break the tension with a tried-and-true method from the past. he doesn't resist as you coo softly, pulling him under the covers and wrapping yourself around him, a garbled tune fleeing from past your lips before you press them to his shoulder. you trail the faintest of butterfly kisses along his neck, his jaw, his cheeks and so on. the anxiety coiled in touya's chest starts to untangle, leaving him as a trembling bundle of nerves in your arms as you shush him, your nimble fingers carting through his hair.

if he weren't so tired, he would have laughed at how the tables have turned; with you cradling him in the way he's so used to doing. still, not even he can deny that it feels nice to be held like this.

"s'alright sweetheart. i'm here. . ." you whisper, and the effect is instantaneous. touya stills as he inhales the scent of buttercream and fresh pine that wafts into the bedroom, his eyelids fluttering shut. all he can hope for is that your presence will drive away any nightmares that foreshadow his well-needed rest, and that when he wakes up in the morning, you'll still be at his side.

dabi made a mistake, and thousands more will come to pass, because underneath the grit and grime that makes up his callous exterior, there is a human being; struggling to survive and struggling to please, just as much as the next. but he'll never leave you again. he had promised you as such with the band of gold now encircling your ring finger, and as long as he lives, he'll never break it.

[therealvinelle]

(suitable headline)

So, there’s this thing about the Twilight fandom that’s been bumming me out, and that’s the lack of those real tinfoil hat crack theories. You know the ones, the ones that circulate in fandoms for years and get picked up by youtubers trying to take credit. Harry Potter has beauties like Dumbledore has a horcrux or Harry is being drugged with amortentia in HBP. Star Wars has theories like Satine Kryze’s nephew actually being her love child with Obi-Wan, to say nothing of the very canon theory that Anakin is God’s own weapon.

My point being, tinfoil hat crack theories are delightful and the Twilight fandom should have some. They’re a huge guilty pleasure of mine.

So without further ado, I’ll just come up with a few. Gotta sow some seeds of chaos.

Theory one: Renesmée is an immortal child, and her creator has the power to implant fake memories

At some point, a vampire whose identity is unknown bit a five-year-old. By the time Breaking Dawn is happening, this vampire has realized that the child will sooner or later be found out by the Volturi, and killed. The vampire decides to place her with the large and gifted Cullen coven.

The vampire proceeds to implant the Cullens with memories of their most recent addition, newborn Bella, having been pregnant with a miracle baby. He gives them memories of having seen the child now named Renesmée (gotta make sure they think she came from Edward and Bella) grow, and of having heard a heartbeat and seen blush in cheek, felt warmth of her face.

The vampire in question was unable to use her gift on Irina when she came by, which is why Irina didn’t see any blushing cheeks or hear any heartbeats. 

Whenever Renesmée kills people, as immortal children are wont to do, the memories of these transgressions are wiped from the Cullens. They believe her red eyes are brown.

Nahuel isn’t a hybrid, because there are no hybrids, the creator made them up. Either he doesn’t exist at all, or he was the creator themselves.

Weaknesses: Bella’s gift would definitely protect her from this. More, no pregnancy means the Cullens would have left Forks after the honeymoon, which would have a series of trickle effects. Jake is out of the picture, so is Charlie. To say nothing of Bella’s one college semester plan. Removing the pregnancy changes the timeline drastically, though I suppose it’s possible the vampire infiltrated them that early, making them all believe they were caring for a pregnant woman.

Variation of the theory: Renesmée is the one with the power to implant memories. However, this would require her being a lot more sophisticated than a mental five-year-old is capable of being.

Theory two: Alice is a time traveller

Alice doesn’t have the power to tell the future at all, she’s a time traveller who has to make all these disastrous things happen because if Victoria doesn’t create her newborn army or Bella doesn’t get pregnant, a hole in the space-time continuum will tear it all to pieces.

Edward and Aro are in on it, but just as trapped as Alice because if they don’t fulfill this terrible future then the fabric of reality will unravel.

Weaknesses: Midnight Sun clearly shows Alice looking through different futures.

Theory three: Carlisle is a Volturi sleeper agent

He stayed in Volterra for decades, and the Volturi have Chelsea. Why wouldn’t Aro use her to ensure that this intelligent and charismatic young vampire was always loyal to the Volturi?

We see that Aro has no problem letting Carlisle have a powerful coven, in fact he refuses to let Edward & co leave Volterra until he’s received reassurance that Bella, who can neutralize his most powerful vampires, will be a Cullen vampire. Those are the actions of someone who trusts Carlisle to a fault, and could for the benefit of this theory be construed to be the actions of someone who views the Cullens as an extension of the Volturi. Why else make them more powerful?

Weaknesses: the plot of Breaking Dawn.

Theory four: Didyme is alive and well, and cross-dresses pretending to be her brother

At some point before the Volturi became particularly powerful, the information was leaked that the excited Greek fella will know all your thoughts if you let him touch you. So, now people didn’t want to touch Aro anymore.

Fear not, Aro had an idea: he simply had his sister pretend to be him, and then he would pretend to be his sister. Didyme-as-Aro keeps a polite distance, while Aro-as-Didyme is all hugging and touchy-feely. Everyone is happy, in part because of Didyme’s gift.

They eventually get caught out, and decide to fake Didyme’s death so people will think Aro isn’t deceiving anybody anymore. Instead, what happens is that Didyme now takes on the mantle of Aro for good. A short while later Aro rejoins the coven, this time disguised as a guard, and will touch people under subterfuge.

As Didyme-as-Aro petrifies and her brother doesn’t, the lure is perfected.

Weaknesses: I guess they forgot to tell Marcus. More, it would have made sense to fake Aro’s death, not Didyme’s. Also, Edward would have exposed them.

Variation of the theory: this scheme is the real reason Didyme died. Someone had her mistaken for her brother, and we had ourselves a switcharoo tragedy.

Theory five: Aro wrote the entirety of Western literature

He certainly has the free time.

Before the 20th century no one knew how to read and write. It was all Aro. All of it. He invented all the languages too.

Weaknesses: this entire theory is a weakness.

Feel free to add!

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ascendance - 03

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: it’s short and still not as exciting as it is about to become but we gotta build a ✨ foundation✨  first. hope you enjoy xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

Bucky was standing in the kitchen, back leaned against the counter of the kitchen with his eyes on the girl who was currently sat in his couch with a badly bandaged hand. He was never good at first aid, he hadn’t been good at it with his sister and he definitely hadn’t been good with her, yet he thought it would be best than let her bleed out onto her costume which she still hadn’t taken out and that included her wig. He knew what hair looked like, he could see it in the back of his mind from the dark costume room, her hair pushed back into the same hairstyle most of the girls in the opera house had. Yet he also knew that getting out of her costume was the last thing going in her mind despite him not knowing at all what was going on in her head. She just stood in silence, looking at the wall of the TV but the TV was off, despite the fact the remote was next to her. 

What was he even supposed to do with her? He couldn’t tie her to the bed or hide her in the basement, he didn’t have a basement. Besides, he didn’t know whenever she’d actually be used as a trading chip so he didn’t know how long he would have to babysit her. How was he even supposed to do John’s bidding if he had to keep an eye on her? It wasn’t like he could leave, she would try to escape. Heck, she’d even try to escape when he was in the apartment. This was a mess, a mess he needed to clean, a mess he didn’t know how to clean. 

The door bell was the first sound in that flat for 2 hours and he sighed out of relief he could finally leave and not have to stare at her and her Bambi like stare. Damned Billy. 

     - She’s a runner. - Bucky said as he opened the door, a stunned Billy walking in like a scared little mouse. - I’ll be gone for two hours. Make sure she’s okay, not bleeding and definitely not escaping. 

Billy nodded his head like a bobble doll, standing stiff by the door as Bucky grabbed the keys to his bike and left. Y/N finally looked up, away from the wall and at Billy. He couldn’t be older than her, and if he were, he couldn’t be more than a year or two older than her. He had shaggy hair and eyes which were filled with insecurity and fear yet a facade of strength which he definitely did not have. She should’ve been mad at him, after all he was the one who misunderstood the assignment (whatever it was) and got her hostage. Yet, she merely saw a boy who was scared, perhaps as scared as she was. 

    - I’m Y/N. - she pipped up as if the two of them were co-workers who were just meeting.

    - Billy.

    - Is that a nickname or a name ... you know like Billy Bigelow. 

    - Billy Bigelow’s a wife beater. - he snickered. - My name’s William but they call me Billy.

    - Do you like being called Billy? I can call you William if you want. 

    - Will.

    - Pardon?

    - I like being called Will but John said it sounds childish. - he clarified, slightly kicking the air like a petulant child. 

    - I like Will better. - she moved towards the end of the couch, patting the pillow next to her. - Do you wanna sit?

   - He doesn’t like it when people sit in his couch. 

   - Well .. I’m sat in the couch and he didn’t say anything, besides, how would he even know you were sat in the couch. 

There wasn’t much she knew about the man who had been overseeing her. She didn’t even knew his name other than the “Soldat” nickname she’d heard John call him. It wasn’t like she particularly cared about knowing him, after all he was the one who was keeping her hostage and he was also the one who had kept her alive. Yet, at this point she wondered if being alive was a faith worse than being dead. How bad is death anyway, she pondered. Maybe it hurts to leave, but it doesn’t hurt to stay dead. She wanted to believe in what he had told her, she wanted to believe that all of this was just a big nightmare, it was just a hiccup in her path. She was gonna go back, she was going back, she had to go back. She had no choice but to go back. 

Her eyes lingered on the broken window, covered by a piece of cardboard tapped to the broken glass, a shattering reminder that she had failed at escaping, had failed at leaving. She should’ve fought harder to escape, she should’ve said no when the main soprano asked her for help. She should’ve just ... done what she was hired to do. The mere thought of the opera house made her eyes swell with tears. She had been so close.

    - I’m sorry. - Will blurted out, his words causing her to immediately wipe her eyes before the tears could actually roll down. - I screwed up, didn’t mean to ruin your shot. 

    - That’s ... that’s fine. - she breathed out. - They’re gonna let me go at some point, right? They can’t keep me forever.

    - Yeah, eventually someone else will screw up. - he scratched the back of his neck. - It’s nice he didn’t tie you down or handcuff you to the bed. 

    - It’s a nice ... arrangement, I guess. 

    - Do you wanna watch Carousel? It’s always rerunning on channel 6. 

    - Are we allowed to watch TV? If you’re not allowed on the couch, I doubt the TV is a yes. 

    - He won’t know.

The beginning of the film was bittersweet as it immediately took her back to better days. Back to when she rented her very first flat in New York while a sophomore at Julliard, when she only had her laptop and a few pillows which made the very old studio flat look like a home, she would sit down in the worn out mattress with her laptop and watch old golden age musicals dreaming of the time she would be on stage. The beginning notes of the overture only brought her back to nights when the rain was harshly falling down on the rain and she was sat in her, open books of several opera music theories lightened up by the low blue light of her laptop. She had fought so hard and she was going to fight even harder to get out of this. She was going to be back in those grounds and with heavy, sleep filled eyes, she swore she would get back to the stage. 

Bucky parked the bike by the sidewalk, sighing as he realised he was not going to an empty home, the same empty home he had fought for. He liked peace and quiet, he liked to be surrounded by nothing but him and his thoughts yet now he had to come back to some girl staying in his house who was keen on breaking all off his windows. Just what he needed, someone coming into his home to fix the window. How was he going to achieve that? 

He opened the door and threw the keys somewhere onto the table near the door. Billy was standing up by the couch, Carousel was playing on the TV and she was sleeping on the couch, surrounded by the fabric of the costume she still hadn’t taken off. Not that she had anything to change into.

   - She’s sweet. - Billy rubbed the sole of his shoe against the ground. 

   - You think all girls are sweet. - Bucky walked to his kitchen, making himself a glass of whiskey. - You old enough to drink, kid?

    - I have to drive back home. 

    - She behaved? - he moved the glass in her direction, eyes lingering a bit too long on her sleeping figure. 

    - She fell asleep mid the film. Hm ... I’m gonna go. Thanks for everything, Bucky, specially with John. 

    - You should get going, kid. Your mother and father will worry.

The sound of the closed door left the two of them alone once again. What was he supposed to do with her? How was he even supposed to do his ... his duties if he constantly needed someone to watch her so she doesn’t try to escape? Where is he even supposed to find someone to watch her? Kidnappingvictims babysitting.com? He sighed out of frustration, whipping his head in her direction almost upset she existed; yet, looking at her sleeping form calmed down his features.

He put the glass in the sink, walking to his couch where she was. Somehow he always ended up in tricky situations and this had to be in the top 5 worst decisions. Yet, she didn’t deserve dying, she didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t her fault any of this had happened. She was just at the wrong place, she was just somewhere she shouldn’t have been and Bucky couldn’t blame her for that. He put a hand on the couch and snaked an arm under her figure, lifting her up from the couch and holding her flush against his chest. Her head instinctually fell against his chest, nose nuzzling his black t-shirt.

There was nothing he could do now. In all honesty, he couldn’t think of anyone in his inner circle where she would be at least in safety. The group of people he hanged around weren’t particularly of high moral standards and he wasn’t a saint either, god, he was closer to being the devil than being a saint; yet, he knew things and he knew what awaited her if she had been assigned to anyone else. In his mind all of this would be over soon; either Billy or one of the newbies would screw up and get them in trouble with the police and then John would trade her in so he wouldn’t go to prison. It was only a matter of time. 

He laid her down on his bed, pulling the comforter over her and taking a final look at her before exiting the room and taking to the couch. He pulled at the bottom of the furniture, the pillows unfolding to form a small bed which his feet would inevitably fall off, yet they didn’t make any bigger couches which turned into beds and he had never expected to have any company in his flat anyway. He too eventually fell asleep, lit by the low blue light of the TV. 

The morning was a harsh reminder for Y/N that this whole situation was not a nightmare but her reality. Her hand pushed her torso off the bed, sleepish eyes looking around as she tried to figure out where she was. She didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed but that didn’t matter because she quickly realised she was alone. She couldn’t hear anything but the ambience sounds coming from the window. She was alone. As that thought registered, she kicked the comforter away from her body and settled her feet to the ground, rushing in silent steps to the door which she opened. Her eyes registered a clear path from where she was to the exit door whose chain was down. She bite on her lip before stepping out of the bedroom.

    - Where are you going? - the familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. Y/N considered making a run from it but just as she convinced herself of that idea, he stepped in front of her, standing like a big wall keeping her from freedom. He looked her down, like a small, inoffensive prey. She thought of running once more, but she was smart enough to know he would easily overpower her. - Where are you going? 

    - Hm ... - think, anything, just think of anything. - The bathroom.

He scoffed, walking forward and towards her but she stepped back every time he got closer until her back hit the door. She stood there, small and wondering what to do as the man whose name she still did not know stood close to her, close enough she could almost feel the permeating heat coming from his body. His gloved fingers pinched her chin, pushing it up so her eyes looked into his. They were blue, a shade of blue she couldn’t really say she’d ever seen and maybe if she were in a different situation, she would’ve even said they were hypnotising. Yet, now, they just bore into hers, as if he was digging into her subconscious. He leaned closer, fingers still holding her chin up.

    - Liar. - his voice was deep and husky, deep enough it sounded like a whisper. He let go of her chin, stepping back and returning to the kitchen while she remained against the door. - We had a deal. 

    - I know. 

    - Are you trying to get yourself killed, kid? - he asked in a dry voice. 

    - Don’t call me kid. - she didn’t know what else to say. What could she said after all? - It’s condescending. 

    - You didn’t answer me, Y/N. - he emphasised her name. It sounded almost wrong for him to be calling her that, yet she guessed it was better than kid. Sure, he was definitely older than her but she wasn’t young enough to be called kid. She couldn’t even recall the last time someone called her kid. - Are you trying to get yourself killed?

    - No. 

    - Then what are you doing?

    - I don’t know.

    - You need to trust me. 

    - Why should I? I don’t know you, I don’t even know your name so why should I trust you? For all I know you could be lying to me. 

    - You think I wanna play babysitting with you? I would much rather have a free home than have you run around in costume. - he glared at her. - And you don’t need to know my name, you need to do what I tell you to do if you wanna come out of this alive. 

    - Well what if I don’t want to? - she narrowed her eyes. 

    - You want to fucking die? Is that it? - he sneered. - Because that would’ve saved the fucking headache that you’ve been. 

    - Maybe you should’ve killed me. You had no problem killing Tommy. - her words were mindless yet filled with some sort of anger. She didn’t realise what she had said until she saw his face.

His facade seemed to drop before his jaw clenched, eyes hardened as he raised his head to look her up and down. She held the knob of the door, ready to open it and escape into the bedroom but he didn’t do anything. He just looked at her, angry before he made a move yet he didn’t walk her direction, he merely opened the fridge to take a water bottle yet that look, that look still remained. 

   - What do you want from me? - she pried. - I had a life, you know. I had plans and ...

   - So did I. You don’t wanna be a kid? Stop acting like one. 

   - My parents don’t know where I am. - she followed him into the kitchen. - I am their only child and I call them everyday. At least, let me call them, let me tell them I’m safe.​

   - I can’t, that’s not how things work. 

   - So what? You’re just gonna keep me here? Forever?

   - Trust me, kid, it’s not exactly what I want either. It’s not my choice and it’s definitely not yours. 

   - I am not gonna stop trying to escape.

   - Based on how well you’ve done so far, I wouldn’t hold my breathe. 

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi​ @unmagically @red-head011

[lizbotw]

Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima Discovering Their S/O’s Last Partner Abused Them

Anonymous said:

hiii! could you write headcanons for bakugou, todoroki, and kirishima on how they would react to discovering their s/o’s last partner abused them, if you’re not comfortable it’s totally fine though!

hello! i hope these are fine and i hope i portrayed everything properly. if not, someone please let me know. i wasn’t that sure about posting these so please read at your own discretion! also, if you or anyone you know is stuck in an abusive situation, please reach out to someone :( these ended up pretty long once again, so there are some scenario-like sections in a few parts. please let me know what you think and i hope you like them!!! ♡

warning: mentions of/references to abuse and abusive relationships (if it helps, i didn’t explicitly describe/go into detail about what happened? it’s more so alluded to and there’s a heavy focus on the comfort aspect)

Bakugou Katsuki

He started to notice that something was wrong whenever you would flinch when he raised his voice. He didn’t mean to yell at you and most of the time it was just him talking at his normal, fired up volume. He didn’t like fighting with you, just playful banter in his own intense way, so it was even weirder that you were reacting like that.

But even if he was just ranting to you about his day, getting a little too into the story and his voice getting a little louder, he seemed to be constantly making you anxious, as though you were waiting for him to break bad news to you or something.

It was confusing and it frustrated Katsuki, always one to want to be in the know and be in charge of situations, but he wasn’t sure how to approach it. His usual blunt and gruff manner of demanding you tell him what was wrong would most likely only serve to worsen the situation exponentially, so he was sort of stuck.

After a while of going back and forth with himself, he came to the conclusion that he needed to change into the more caring boyfriend you deserved—soft spoken and sensitive to your emotions.

Although you had known what you had been getting into with his blatantly brash personality, he figured that actually dating him now and seeing it up close constantly were simply too much, and he really liked you so a bit of compromise here and there wouldn’t hurt.

But when he consciously lowered his voice, there seemed quite a few possibilities of what would happen.

You would likely seemingly relax and listen to his soothing tone at first, something he enjoyed because of the soft smile that would paint your features, but then it seemed as though you would snap back to reality, remembering that this was Bakugou Katsuki—resident hothead—who was suddenly using his “inside voice” unprompted, and would give him a suspicious look, as though you thought he was planning to reveal this had all been the cover up for some sort of trick.

You always seemed to catch yourself when you did that though and would look embarrassed, turning away and excusing yourself, as though hoping he hadn’t noticed your shift in emotion—which he thought was fucking stupid because of course he’s going to notice if something is up (he was always watching for little details when it came to you, admiring the tiny things that made you up because he was head over heels in love).

(Truth be told, you had had one too many startling surprises in your last relationship where you thought things were going good and finally getting back to normal, until you realized it had all been a trick—a sinister grin coating the face of your ex being all the confirmation you needed to realize how naive you had been. They always seemed to love watching your face crumble in mortified realization.)

(Every time you thought about that now around Katsuki, you always felt so guilty even associating him with something so horrible that you always had to step away and take a moment to breathe and re-organize your thoughts.)

(Under your breath, you always mumbled a quiet ‘sorry’ as you walked away, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. It made you feel better—someone like him didn’t deserve to be remembered alongside something so horrible.)

Eventually, Katuski had enough. He had no idea what to do at this point. Perhaps you really didn’t like being around him all that much?

Your contact prior to dating had been frequent since you two were good friends, but it had been fairly controlled and in minimal amounts compared to the long hours you frequently spent stuck to each other’s sides now. Maybe he was better off just being your friend.

You seemed to think that his rough exterior could be funny at times, especially because you liked to poke fun at him a lot, and found it overall charming how it roped back into his determined mindset.

Funny—that’s what it was. You could joke around playfully with him easily, but it seemed that when it came to a stable, (hopefully) long-term relationship, that sort of thing just wouldn’t cut it. The relationship was fairly new but he was already totally flubbing it. He couldn’t keep acting like your “friend” anymore, he was supposed to be your boyfriend, so he had to up the romantic act if he really wanted to make that clear.

But then you didn’t seem to be at ease if he tried being a lot more gentle though, so what should he do?

There wasn’t much else remaining as an option but to ask you directly what you wanted from him.

He didn’t want to make you unhappy, but if it was true that you two weren’t compatible in that way well… maybe he would have to… lose this one. And he never lost.

It was his attitude of striving for perfection and for a winning outcome in this relationship that he set aside his fear of the unknown and instead put you first.

A quiet evening front of the T.V.—you staying over at his house for an impromptu movie night—had the scene perfectly set for him asking you once and for all what was wrong.

He’d made a pact with himself—if you seemed even the slightest bit unsure, he’d… maybe have to let you go. But only for your own sake. He knew it was very likely he just wasn’t made for love, versus everyone else he knew that seemed very in-tune with both theirs and others emotions.

A commercial break had him drawing in a deep breath, your head shifting comfortably against his chest as he breathed in and you closed your eyes briefly as you felt the comforting rise and fall—only to snap your eyes back open within seconds once you heard his next words. That breath hadn’t been one of quiet comfort on a romantic evening, it had been him inhaling all of the courage in the room that he could before he asked you the question that had been burning in his chest for so long—“What’s wrong?”

It came out as more like a whisper than he would have liked and he almost wished it had been drowned out by the generic ad that was currently flashing across the screen, but of course with his luck it hadn’t. At least it was out in the air now, waiting for you to strike it down from the sky and puncture it with your answer.

A few beats of silence passed and he wasn’t sure if you were going to answer—wondering if you had even heard it—but truthfully you were trying to figure out if you had heard him correctly. You decided to play it safe. “What do you mean?”

Katuski wasn’t sure what else you wanted him to say—he’d done his best, you knew he wasn’t good with this sort of thing. “Don’t play dumb, babe, you know what I’m talking about.”

Unfortunately, his voice was louder this time, mostly from his irritation at not knowing what to do to get you to tell him. But then you were slinking away from the arm he had wrapped around you, breath caught in your throat. “Kat…”

“Wait, fuck, stop, fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he was quick to gather you back up in his arms, turning to face you on the couch. “I’m just… I’m just worried about you, baby. Is it something I’m doing? I know I’m not always the perfect boyfriend so… if you want to break up…” You had to rush to stop him from finishing, the mere thought of that tugging at your heartstrings.

And so it was there, on that same couch you had spent so many afternoons together as friends falling in love with each other, that you tearfully told him about your last relationship—a shameful past you wished to completely forget, erase, pretend didn’t exist. But Katsuki coaxed it out of you gently, the light murmur of the T.V. with it’s volume low in the background (you had asked him not to turn it completely off, afraid of what the deafening silence would bring forth in you) and you felt so, so good despite the tears dripping down your face. So fucking happy to finally get it out. And when you had finally said your piece, he was on you in seconds, warm arms encasing you and your face firmly pressed into his t-shirt, the fabric already quickly dampening from your crying, and that felt like home.

As Katuski comforted you, he was internally fuming with anger—he was careful not to let it show and accidentally end up stressing you out further, but once his reassurances of how he would never, in a million years, ever want to hurt you seemed to ease you back down to Earth—you even managing to crack a smile that made his heart do somersaults—he was already composing a plan to track down the idiot that had hurt you.

He would be extra clingy in the coming days, which was saying a lot for your boyfriend who normally liked to grumble about how stop, you’re bothering him, no hugs right now while simultaneously pulling you closer to him every single time.

If it was someone he knew, next time he saw them he wouldn’t hesitate to pull them aside and unleash a slew of threats that were definitely not empty in meaning. He had a reputation and he knew how to use it, sadistic satisfaction creeping across his face in the form of a smirk as he watched the other person cower, withering under his intense gaze.

He restrained himself and didn’t resort to violence, as much as he would have liked, knowing that you would be more upset with him if you found out he had punched your ex’s lights out and risked getting in trouble just because of you.

You always encouraged him to be a better person and rise above letting others get to him, so it was only because you were such a nice person that the person who had hurt you was able to get away with all of their teeth still in tact after facing your explosive boyfriend—and Katsuki made sure to tell them you were the reason too. Making sure to let them know that they had lost the best person in the world and even in spite of all they had put you through you more forgiving than you ever should have been.

And if it wasn’t someone he already knew? Well, it wouldn’t be long until the two got acquainted. Katsuki was smart enough to figure out who exactly it was using his grapevine of connections and it wasn’t long until he was pulling aside the person for a little talk that went similar to the one he would give if he already knew them.

Whoever hurts you would never be allowed back in your life as long as he has a say in the matter, and while sometimes you may be more forgiving towards most people than he is (it’s really not that hard to surpass him in this aspect), he makes sure to put down his foot when it comes to even giving your ex an ounce of kindness that would let them think that everything is fine now, the past is forgotten, and that they were justified in their action. Yeah, no fucking way did they deserve closure.

Katsuki is usually stubborn, but he bends easily when it comes to you—even if it comes with a bit of complaining once in a while—although this matter? Just let him have his way with this. He’s just trying to protect you, even if he knows you can handle yourself well. That’s just the way it is between you two. You give each other the space to do whatever the other wants, but at the same time, if either of you sees the other person going astray and about to make a terrible decision, a little reality check is well deserved.

Any guilt or doubt you may feel accompanied by worrying if you were too harsh to your ex when you ended on bad terms would be immediately stomped out by Katsuki followed by his attempts at motivational words (paired with a string of curses every so often) and a (huge) sprinkle of slandering your ex’s name. The whole thing was pretty endearing, especially because you could tell he was really trying, plus his insults about anyone who ever hurt you (not just your ex) were always funny to listen to.

He looked cute when he was mad, you had to admit, and with your mood greatly improved, you really have no choice but to give your boyfriend a kiss, both to shut him up and as a thank you. The short press of your lips against his would have him leaning in for more before you could even fully pull away. You never knew how long you spent in each other’s arms like that, your heart soaring higher every moment with amazement that this was finally your life, but you did know that you gave Katuski countless kisses within that time frame—each one yet another silent thank you for being your rock through thick and thin, cheesiness be damned.

Todoroki Shouto

Shouto knew he was reserved at times—never wanting to burden you with his troubles or have you worry alongside him about some trivial thing he suddenly decided had some semblance of importance. But he was trying, okay? He knew you knew that.

If anything, he confided in you the most out of anyone else in his life. His hidden thoughts about certain subjects were easily spilled when you two were alone and talking, the words flooding out of his mouth and crashing in waves over the remains of the crumbled walls you had broken down in him. His insignificant worries became easy to discuss with you and you always smoothed over his fears—in fact it usually hurt more not to tell you things now than it did to just keep it all bottled up.

Displays of affection increased in boldness as his comfort grew with you—no longer silently wondering to himself if you thought his professions of love were too much, or if you were simply being nice to him when you returned his spontaneous kisses.

He felt a sense of security with you that had warmth coiling around his heart with every smile you gave him, a new feeling that both left him pondering the implications late into the night while simultaneously lulling him to sleep with the comfort it brought. It was confusing and he absolutely loved it.

Once he got over his initial reservations about entering a relationship, Shouto was able to see you for what you really were—someone who genuinely loved him. There was no doubt about it and he felt silly for ever questioning your bond at the start and thinking you would ever want to leave him for someone better any time soon.

As he shared more with you, slowly letting himself be consumed by your presence, your unwavering support became more and more apparent.

He was someone you trusted even before you officially started dating, sure (you two had had your fair share of late night over sharing more times than he’d like to admit), but this was different. Relationships could make or break anything. He had seen it himself with his parents after all.

It was terrifying at first, like falling in an endless black hole, but once he let himself relax—really lean into the fall—he came to appreciate the weightlessness, the wind carding through his hair.

Something still felt off though. Not necessarily wrong per say—nothing was ever wrong when you were around as far as he was concerned.

Shouto doesn’t know exactly when it was that he noticed it—it may have been when you dodged a question about what you did over the weekend, or maybe when you didn’t offer details about your own thoughts on a particular hero rescue mission video you two had seen online, or maybe it was the way you seemed painfully conscious of watching how much you revealed about your plans for the future. Or maybe it was a combination of all of those things.

Whatever it was, it was obvious you were hiding parts of yourself, almost as if you didn’t want to get too attached to him—that couldn’t be right, could it?

You really did seem to like him and he didn’t think he had misjudged your affection, but the more Shouto thought about it the more he realized how little he truly knew about you. It was as if you were prepared to disappear from his life at the drop of a hat. What was going on?

Once it became apparent to him, he began to notice it more and more, doubt creeping up in his mind with each and every incident. How had he never noticed this before? Perhaps it was because you revealed enough that he never questioned it—most surface level things seemed fair game, more or less, but it was the deeper things you seemed hesitant to share. The things in your life you held near and dear to your heart were always hidden under convoluted answers that blanketed the fact that everything you were saying was intentionally vague.

He had to get to the bottom of this and soon, otherwise he was sure he would combust from the overthinking.

Shouto was fairly straightforward and blunt at times, so he asked you point blank one night as you two sat out on his porch swing one night, facing his backyard with a giant blanket draped over both of you as you curled your legs up on the swing under it and leaned back on the array of fluffy pillows lining the back of the swing. The night was clear and the stars glimmered in the sky, which was the whole reason you two had planned this little “date” anyway—to do a bit of casual stargazing while relaxing together and enjoying each other’s presence.

Shouto couldn’t seem to completely relax though. There was something that kept tugging at his mind.

“You didn’t answer the question.” The biting statement had come out soft because he didn’t mean to sound like he was outright accusing you of anything, but you seemed to tense up all the same, turning to look at him bewildered.

‘Is it really that big a deal?’ he wondered. You seemed apprehensive at him “catching you,” as though being forced to reveal the information to him would have some sort of terrible consequence.

“W-what?” You blinked at him and he turned to fully face you, rather than glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I asked if you ended up going to the arcade or amusement park last weekend. I remember you told me that none of your friends could agree on which one to choose,” he said simply, eyebrows furrowing in confusion now—for some reason, he didn’t think it would go like this. You were reacting differently from how he thought you would, seeming more paranoid and anxious than ever. It made him worried. He genuinely wanted to know the answer as well. He had been contemplating an amusement park date, having heard his fair share of others gushing about sharing a romantic Ferris wheel ride at the end of the day, and he’d like to know if you enjoyed the experience if you did go, if you’d like to go with him if you didn’t end up going with your friends, or if he shouldn’t take you there at all because you’d already went and didn’t want to go back again.

“Um…” You looked away from him and back up at the stars illuminating the sky—your eyes swiped over them as you tried to count a few and calm the racing in your heart. “We, uh… we didn’t end up going to either of them. I just went over to one of their houses for a pizza night with two of the others. Not that many people, don’t worry.” That last detail of not interacting with a ton of people seemed important to include for you, but Shouto was simply puzzled by the way you spoke it—as though you were trying to convince him you hadn’t done anything wrong, rather than just mentioning as a causal detail. The emphasize on it had him wracking his brain, trying to decipher what cryptic meaning there was behind your words.

“Oh… but I saw you with a wristband when you came back. I just didn’t get to see if it said it was from the arcade or from the amusement park.”

It wasn’t like he was trying to set a trap for you—he had just simply remembered at that moment the purple band wrapped snugly around your wrist when you came back from your hang out session—the telltale sign of an admission bracelet to some sort of event. You were allowed to have fun of course—hell, he didn’t care, he wasn’t much of one to try and stop you from doing what you wanted anyway. He was just curious. To you though, the words took on a completely different meaning as you searched for the underlying truth of what he was really thinking and you felt cornered and small with the presentation of this new information. It was suffocating. What would he do now that he knew you lied?

“Ah… yeah, I forgot about that… must’ve slipped my mind…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say much more, not sure what else you would say anyway.

You glanced back at him and could see that he was still watching you. You looked away quickly, heart beating fast.

You heard him breath out through his nose and you could tell he was thinking. “It’s okay. You didn’t have to tell me. I was just wondering,” he spoke quietly and you instantly felt bad for hurting him like that and making him think you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Shouto, I-” You let the words die on your tongue, not knowing where you were going with them anyway.

“(Y/N)…  you know, truthfully, I’ve been noticing it a lot.” You were looking at him fully now while his gaze was focused downwards, playing with the soft fabric of the blanket that was keeping you two warm. “You don’t have to tell me things if you don’t want to. It just feels like there’s a lot you’re not telling me. I just wanted to ask why. At first I thought it was just once or twice it happened, but now I see there’s a lot of little details I don’t know about you.” He was back to staring at you now, blanket still clenched between his hands as his fingers continuously soothed over the fabric. “Is there anything I can do better? I don’t know if you feel comfortable around me… but I feel comfortable around you if that helps…”

It was as though you were in a trance as you listened to him speak, hanging onto each and every word, and you bit your tongue lightly to break you out of your speechlessness and shake yourself back to reality.

You sighed and shifted uncomfortably in your seat, running your finger along the seam of one of the pillows you were leaning back against. “I, uh… just have a hard time trusting people… I don’t know…”

Shouto took your hesitation as a sign that he was digging into something much deeper than he originally thought and he decided he shouldn’t force it—if it really was something deeper than a surface level bump in a relationship that could be solved relatively quickly, then he would give you the time to tell him on your own.

He felt like such a jerk for how he brought it up—it seemed that this was tied to a deep issue and a sensitive topic for you and he had just brought it up like it was nothing. What kind of boyfriend was this obvious to your struggles?

He released his grip on the blanket and looked back at the stars, choosing instead now to fidget with his hair, running his fingers through it twice before realizing he should probably stop doing that. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but… I’d like to be someone you could trust.” He planned to leave it at that, aside from apologizing later again and showering you with affection, hoping you could forgive his embarrassing moment of pure insensitively and selfishness. His plans of how to smooth over the tension hanging thick in the air were put on hold though when he heard you speak again.

“No… you know what? You deserve to know. I’m sorry for all of this. I do trust you. I don’t know what got into me. If anything, I trust you the most to tell about this. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner.” Your bitter laugh at the end surprised him and he met your eyes. With you both looking at each other, you felt emboldened and ready to make the truth known.

You reached over to lace his fingers with yours and he let you, automatically moving so he could sit closer to you. “(Y/N)?”

“Shouto…” And with that you revealed the true reason you had always been so careful with your words around him, the source of your guardedness, and the experience that left your heart wounded—your last relationship.

Shouto, already having berated himself before for approaching the situation so brashly, knew to stay quiet now and let you speak, only reacting with twists of his face in shock, horror, or disgust because he was appalled that anyone would ever treat you like that. He could feel his blood boiling.

At last you were done—your hands staying intertwined and resting on the blanket between you two the whole time—and just in time too, because he couldn’t take any more of hearing the heart-wrenching things you had been through. And yet here you were, still standing strong after having experienced it. Meanwhile, just the words and the way the vivid descriptions came to life in his mind were enough to make him reel, thoughts flashing back to his own childhood.

As you had spoken, you two had somehow shifted closer together, the proximity comforting you as you told the story. Now Shouto closed the distance to reach over and pull you firmly into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the soft brush of his lips there and his warm breath as he held you close, causing you to shiver involuntarily. You blinked for a second, shocked at his sudden display of affection, before tightly wrapping your arms around him as well. The tears you had been holding in the whole time and masking under your wavering words full with emotion all flowed out now, the dam broken and nothing holding you back from sobbing against his shoulder.

Shouto was apologizing for how harsh he had been with you before and you could tell he really meant it—it sounded like he was mentally beating himself up over the whole thing and he was. He felt even more stupid now. Something this serious and he had never pick up on it? He really felt like the worst and vowed to always protect you. His own childhood trauma had left him with no one to console him and he refused for the same to happen to you. Neither of you were sure which one of you started it, but there was a constant back and forth of “I love you”s professed as you sat there, tangling in each other’s arms. That little reminder meant everything to you.

Now that Shouto knew why you seemed to have difficulty telling him things, he knew not to try to pry information out of you, but rather let you know you had his constant trust and support, hoping that you would slowly come of your shell yourself—and you did, feeling as though you were able to be more open with him now. His reassurances that he would never try to control you in any way set your mind at ease and with each day that passed you felt lighter and more carefree, no longer cherry picking at your speed and wondering what you should say.

It took a bit for you to break out of the habit that you had so carefully accumulated and improved to protect yourself, but Shouto was patient and willing to help, and you found yourself falling in love with him all over again.

Shouto is someone with a lot of power, influence, and money at his disposal, all thanks to his father—as much as he hated to admit it (although he would say that it came in handy at times like this). He would never outright tell you that he now had a personal bone to pick with your ex but… let’s just say you won’t have to worry about accidentally running into them ever again.

It’s likely you may not even notice the change, having already cut that person completely out of your life and being used to avoiding them like the plague or flat out ignoring them.

Although if you did notice them appearing less in your life, you may mention it offhandedly to him, maybe even questioning him if he knew anything about it.

He would answer cryptically, either saying “Huh, that is strange,” or “Don’t worry about it,” if you were eyeing him suspiciously, taking a sip from the cup of tea he had been nursing in order to hide the small, knowing smile that he couldn’t keep off of his face.

Kirishima Eijirou

Eijirou had always been a touchy guy, and you knew this, yet it still didn’t make it any easier to completely relax when you were snuggled against his chest, or when he would drape an arm around you without warning.

During the dates you had gone on before officially entering a relationship, he was always careful with his touches, but still made mild gestures—asking if he could hold your hand, or sometimes resting his hand on the small of your back when leading you out of a restaurant. You liked that—his touches were sincere and made you feel wanted again. He really was perfect.

A gentleman at heart it seemed, Eijirou was always respectful, yet those baby steps towards increased physical contact still set your heart aflame, no matter how hard you tried to stomp the fire out and remind yourself to be careful, heart beating fast because what did you do to deserve something so wonderful (it was the type of adoration that seemed to continuously bloom, beginning from the very first time you met him).

It took a while before he worked up the courage to ask you to put a label on whatever it was that you two had. He had sensed your cautiousness from the start when you two went on your first date—although he didn’t know the true reason behind why you were so closed off to love—and he had kept that initial impression of you in mind the entire time.

Usually he was one for breaking down barriers, pushing past the tough exteriors of others, and he did the same to you, but he also knew the guarded feeling you carried seemed different and he didn’t want to pry, so he was careful in his approaches.

Those slow steps that you loved so much from the start (the small touches and the gradual opening up to each other), truly resulted because 1.) he really was a gentleman (you were correct in that assumption), but 2.) unbeknownst to you, his mind was always working around you and when he picked up on your initial coldness (you may try to hide it, but he knows how to read people well), he made sure to be extra careful when it came to advancing things with you.

Forwardness cast aside, he took things at the pace you wanted, hesitant to ask you the burning question to make it all completely official in case that scared you off. He absolutely loved you and it would take him forever to get over it if he really did mess this up.

There was also the issue of him not wanting to wait too long and make you think he was stringing you along or wasting your time. He wanted to make his intentions clear sooner rather than later, but it always felt too soon and he was constantly trying to gauge your reactions.

Stuck in this limbo, Eijirou ended up asking you to be in a relationship before he even truly realized what he was saying.

Hanging out together on yet another fairy tale date, the thought occurred to him that with the way you two were already so close, to not be dating would be pretty weird. It was the obvious next step now more than ever.

And then the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he even realized it and you were laughing—his heart sunk for a moment at that because oh my god he’s so stupid no way you’d actually want to date him, he’d totally misread the situation, but also sent his heart fluttering because your laugh and smile and everything about you was so cute and beautiful and amazing and-).

His fears were put to rest when you leaned over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lacing your fingers with his where they rested on the park bench you two were currently sitting on, laughter still spilling out of you, although a bit more controlled now.

You told him that honesty? You thought you two were basically dating already and he was just the type to not say anything and just assume you knew, so you’d been going along with it this whole time.

His mouth was hanging open at first, but then a giant dopey grin crossed his face and you were wrapped up in his arms, pulled to his chest in a bear hug.

You sighed contentedly—this felt right.

Your floating on cloud nine didn’t last forever though and soon you were spiraling back down to Earth, plummeting harder towards it than you had floated up.

It seemed that now that things had been said out loud and it was confirmed that you were really together, the whole thing began to weigh a little heavily on your heart. You were still head over heels in love, and being with him was definitely what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you accidentally did something wrong and completely ruined everything, whether due to your paranoia grating on his nerves eventually (as patient as he had proven to be, you knew everyone had their limits) or because he simply got fed up with you and things turned out like last time.

You had deluded yourself into believing you were fine before, but you really knew that the only reason you allowed yourself to be so comfortable around him during those first few dates was because he hadn’t officially asked you out yet. Now that he had and this relationship was a real thing, your breath caught in your throat the more you thought about how things went the last time—it had started off just like this, perfect… maybe even too perfect.

Eijirou wasn’t like that, you knew it, but you kept wondering what if this is the day that the switch flips?

Stuck in your own mind over the issue and reluctant to talk it out left you jumpy around your new boyfriend—fuck, you hated it, but you couldn’t stop your body from reacting before you mind could soothe it with rational thoughts that he was one of the most caring people, if not the most caring person, you have ever met.

He, of course, took the whole thing wonderfully like the perfect person he is, even if he didn’t know the real reason why you suddenly seemed so opposed to physical contact, just causing you to feel worse because how could you keep making him think that this was his fault.

Hugs, hand holding, and cuddling on the couch still seemed among his favorite things. You liked them too—the security and warmth was addicting—but what had been normal during the pre-dating phase, now became a sore spot for you.

You had felt butterflies at this touches before (now you wondered if perhaps the reason that you were able to lean easily into those touches were because you could just imagine he was one of your friends—a hot friend with soft lips who you kind of, sort of wanted to spend forever with—rather than some guy that held your heart in his hands), but now your mind was kicked into overdrive each and every time.

There were times where he would immediately pull away if you seemed overly stiff and unsure, apologizing profusely. You didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t him that was the problem—you wanted to be in his arms, protected and warm, you were just having a hard time adjusting to the intense love he always provided.

He was always so attentive, noticing if you had a distant look in your eye, asking you what was on your mind. You felt bad, absolutely horrible. Why were you always so tense around him? You had taken time to heal on your own, waiting a while before getting back into the dating scene. You knew what you needed, you knew how much time you needed, and you most of all knew that you didn’t need some big strong guy to save you from your thoughts. You just needed him to understand that. You thought you could forget the past, bury it—you were independent and didn’t need the support.

You briefly wondered for a while if perhaps you weren’t as ready for a relationship right now as you thought—maybe you need more time?

But then that idea was immediately squashed—no, you would not let what happened to you rule your life any longer. You deserved to have someone as great as Eijirou, and he deserved someone as amazing as you, and most of all, you really, really liked him. And it was because of the reasons you liked him—his caring attitude, his innate understanding, his watchful eyes that were always soft with emotion—that you decided to take the leap and just outright tell him everything.

A quiet evening of domesticity felt like the right time—a relaxed mood set as you two winded down from the day at his house. You were seated across the kitchen table from one another with him typing on his laptop and occasionally pausing to scroll or contemplate something (he would interlace his fingers, elbows propped up on the table and hands resting against his lips with a small frown before his eyes suddenly lit up with an answer to whatever question had been plaguing his mind). You, on the other hand, you very much attempting to write in your notebook, but so far all you had accomplished was to mark the edges of the pages with senseless scribbles, not even able to bring yourself to properly doodle little stars or hearts like you usually would.

You flicked your pen between your fingers, either quietly tapping it against the blank page in front of you (you wanted to tap it against the table to hear the satisfying thumping of the wood, but you didn’t want to disturb Eijirou) or against your cheek. You could feel his eyes on you every so often when he would very briefly glance up. He probably thought you were deep in concentration because he never said anything about your troubled look, although it seemed like he wanted to. Ah, damn, you really did love him—why was he always so caring, even if it came in little gestures like this? You hid a smile to yourself as you thought about how at times he could seem conflicted between always checking up on you but also loving to watch you work. Cute.

Truth be told, you were deep in concentration, but it wasn’t about what he thought it was. Rather, your initial concentration had been broken so many times by your incessant thoughts that you finally decided to give them the attention they had been demanding. There was no way you could work like this, as told by the tug on your heartstrings. There was really only one thing to do at a time like this and you just knew it was the right time. It’s now or never.

You chewed on the tip of the pen cap for a second in quiet contemplation, before steeling yourself and speaking. “Hey, um… can I talk to you about something?” You didn’t tear your gaze away from the page in front of you—eyes tracing the lines of scribbles as though they would give you courage—until you had finished your sentence. The words rang in your ears as they pierced the comfortable silence that had only been broken by small noises of shuffling before. As the last syllable slipped out, you looked up, watching to see what he would do.

Eijirou snapped his head up to you with wide eyes and blinked. “Of course, babe, what’s up?” He shoved his laptop to the side, but then after a quick moment seemed to decide that wasn’t enough and pushed the top down for good measure to make sure you knew you one hundred percent had his attention.

His immediate reaction to your words was both because he had heard the ting of worrying in your voice—your tone serious—and also because he always hung onto your every word anyway, always listening carefully to what you had to say. His attention was always yours.

You glanced away from his intense gaze and hummed in thought, twirling your pen around. You motioned for him to come sit next to you, which he did without hesitation, rounding the table and pulling out the chair next to you with a quiet squeak against the floor. While he did that, you pushed out your chair a bit also so you could comfortably turn to face him at your side.

As he sat down, he dragged his chair closer to yours until they were almost touching, and then when you pulled your legs up and angled yourself so you could sit crossed legged on your chair, he did the same, taking your cue—he was watching your moves so carefully, wondering what was wrong, that he mimicked the action barely thinking. Your knees rubbed together and you cracked a smile at that—one he mirrored—but then your solemn expression returned.

A deep breath and you let the pen slip from between your fingers, roll out of your hand, and land back on your still open and still embarrassingly blank notebook. Then, you turned to look Eijirou in the eye, determined not to back down now, and gave him another small grin to set his nerves at ease because he looked so worried (once again, cute).

“So…” And that was the shaky, uncertain word you began on before your story began to flow out of you, the words whistling past your lips with gradually increasing confidence as you went on—the way you saw it was that even if it was hard, you had gotten this far in the retelling so you might as well see it through. It took a lot of willpower, but you had set your mind to this and would not allow the past to ruin your current relationship. Eijirou was silent throughout it, although just having him there and watching his facial expressions (twisting in anger, sorrow, disbelief, and million other emotions that you didn’t know the names of but could feel deep in your heart with just one glance at him) was enough to keep you grounded and continuing to let it all out.

Despite your best efforts, tears managed to escape your eyes, increasing in ferocity the deeper you went , but you quickly wiped them away—a signal to him to just wait, give you a moment, you could handle this, even though it was very clear that he simply wanted to comfort you.

And then, as abruptly as you had started, you were done, the last tortured word coming out. “And, um, here we are I guess…,” you simply shrugged as you awkwardly tried to wrap up your monologue. “I don’t know…”

Eijirou was quiet for a moment, lips slightly parted, as though he was waiting for you to say something else and he didn’t want to accidentally interrupt you and stop the stream of raw emotions you had been so vulnerable to share and entrust with him—he wanted to know everything about what had been torturing this whole time so you would no longer have to step on eggshells around him. When you breathed out a deep sigh of relief, chest suddenly feeling airy and light, your head clear, only then did he accept that you were done and ready for his reaction.

He almost reached out immediately to pull you to his chest, but stopped himself quickly before his arms could even shoot out. You could see how his hand had twitched from where it lay in his lap—it was about to reach out, but he had stopped it almost right away, and it was clear that he really wanted to wrap you in a hug right now. As much as he wanted that though, he also knew that he didn’t want to suddenly grab you after you had just opened up to him and relived that horrible experience in your mind.

Memories of when he had so casually pulled you to his chest before without knowing what was wrong filled his head and he felt so guilty. How could he never have noticed this before? Would you even want his comfort right now?

You found his current display of just wanting to be supportive endearing though and gave him a slight nod to signal that it was okay. That was all the confirmation he needed before he had you pressed against him, arms tight as they looped around your back and warmth radiating from his chest. You took a breath in and could smell the soft, comforting scent that he always seemed to carry. Just being held like this as he rubbed soothing circles on your back with his thumb seemed to open the floodgates and soon you were openly sobbing, embarrassed because he had never seen you like this before, but also feeling encouraged to finally let everything out as he coaxed the tears out of you with quiet murmurs of “It’s okay, babe,” and “I’ve got you, baby.”

Not long later, after you guys had both calmed down—you from the overwhelming emotions that had taken over you, and him from his anger at your ex and his heart-aching feelings at thinking about what you had been through—you two were cuddled up in his bed.

Eijirou had made you a hot cup of tea and after you had chosen to burrow under the blankets, he followed suit as you asked him to join you (he was still being cautious about not doing anything you didn’t want).

You two discussed your relationship and what the new information you had shared meant for you both. Assurances of how much you loved each other were sprinkled throughout the conversation and Eijirou said he would ease up on the spontaneous touches for a little bit until you felt more comfortable (they still weren’t completely gone though because you loved them—it’s just that he now knew to be a little more cautious about that sort of thing), and you made sure to let him know that all those times you had tensed up before hadn’t been because of him but rather because of your memories. He knew what to look out for now and as observant he was about you, you knew that he would even pick up small cues of discomfort, although you could already feel yourself slowly letting go of your tension.

Now that you had explained everything and that weight was off of your chest, you felt so much better. Plus, hearing him directly assure you that he would never dare to hurt you like that gave you a feeling of relief and greater trust in him. Just something about you being open about the whole thing made you feel that things could finally be normal now.

Your suspicions were right, things were a lot better after that, and Eijirou could tell that you saw physical touches as a sign of comfort now, rather than something you had an internal struggle with, and through slow steps again like you had taken at the start, you were able to get to a place where you no longer felt apprehensive about the topic.

Eijirou would be your protective safety blanket whenever you needed it, although he also knew you were strong-willed and didn’t always need his help either, so he was content staying on the sidelines if you really seemed like you could work through something on your own, although he was always ready to comfort you if need be.

The tipping point when it was really confirmed that Eijirou would protect you no matter what it was when you two ran into your ex at a convenience store one day.

Eijirou was browsing the snack aisles not that far from you while you were looking over the sweets they had lining the counter near the door. You could still see each other over the top of the mini-aisles since the shelves were short, and Eijirou was talking to you about all the snacks he was contemplating on getting, asking your opinion as you occasionally replied to his chatter over your shoulder, piling the things you wanted into your arms as he no doubt did the same.

You were about to call back out to him and turned to look over your shoulder, stepping towards his direction automatically, having found one of his favorite flavors of a certain sweet you two always ate, when you noticed someone standing behind you, probably looking at the shelves for things they wanted as well since the place was pretty small and everything was cramped together.

“Oh, ah, sorry…” You awkwardly turned back to what you were doing, tucking the package of what you were going to show Eijirou under your arm to bring to him later, and shifting away so that the other person would have more room to continue shopping, feeling a little embarrassed. You hadn’t noticed their presence before because you had been so busy eyeing all of the delicious goods right in front of you.

“Hm? Oh, that’s alright,” they replied nonchalantly and you just nodded silently and gave them a small smile and a sideways glance in response.

You froze when you saw that they were looking back at you intensely and recognition flooded your senses. You knew that voice sounded familiar, plus when you had glanced at them before when you first bumped into them something seemed to ring a bell but you had simply brushed it off.

While you were filled with instant dread at realizing who it was, the other person, now able to see your face clearly, seemed to light up with delight at seeing that it was really you—as if they had just run into an old friend. “(Y/N)! Woah, is that you? Long time no see!” What was your ex doing here? What were the chances? It just seemed like the universe cursed you with bad luck.

You could vaguely make out Eijirou’s voice under the ringing in your ears as you took a step back, away from your ex—which they just seemed to take as cue to turn more fully towards you, both of you now facing each other.

Eijirou seemed to have noticed you not replying and came over to you, arms piled high with bags of chips and other packages of both of your favorite snacks. “What’s wrong, babe? Ooo, what’s that you’re holding, it looks g-” He paused, having followed your gaze to see you staring at another person, and finally noticing the newcomer just as they went on talking about how great it was to see you. Eijirou took this as a cue that you knew this person. “Who’s this? One of your friends?” he asked with a grin, looking back at you.

You ignored his question, unable to think, and shakily greeted the mysterious person back. Eijirou could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. But then you said the name of the other person in your greeting and something clicked in his mind—that was the name of your ex. How could he have forgotten? The memory of when you had told him all of the horrible things they had done to you was now at the forefront of his mind and he swiftly moved in front of you, gripping his snacks closely to his chest to prevent them from toppling out of his arms at the sudden movement. His warm expression had melted into one of distaste, glaring at the person in front of both of you, blocking them off from your path.

Eijirou tried to get your ex to leave peacefully with thinly veiled threats, making it know he knew exactly who they were and what they had done to you, but your ex fought back, saying that they were simply talking to you and refusing to go just yet. You were cowering behind Eijirou, still shell shocked, and tugging on his arm lightly, trying to get him to just forget about it and leave with you, not feeling up to deal with conflict of any sort right now, especially any involving your ex of all people.

“Who the hell are you anyway?” your ex bit out, fire in their eyes.

“Me? You mean the boyfriend who’s about to beat a nobody like you’s ass?” You could see how Eijirou’s fists clenched as he said that, packaging crinkling under his fingers.

Your ex scoffed and peered around Eijirou to look directly at you. “Boyfriend, huh? Can’t believe you managed to snag someone else.”

You had to grab Eijirou to hold him back after he heard that comment, trying to juggle your mountain of snacks in one arm while firmly gripping onto him with your free hand.

The look in your eyes when he glanced over at you in confusion and the way you refused to let him go made it clear that you didn’t want him to get in trouble just for you.

That didn’t stop him from slandering the other person with a healthy dose of threats though and despite your ex’s stubbornness, Eijirou finally managed to get them off your back. You two quickly paid for everything you had already picked up and left the store not long after. Eijirou would make sure to shoot your ex one final warning glare if they were still in the store or if he saw them right outside.

Expect him to check up on you after the incident as soon as you’re far away enough from the store, offering to carry all of the bags for you and do whatever you needed him to do. “Are you okay, babe?” he would ask and would keep assuring you that he loved you and would never let that person near you ever again until he was sure that you had calmed down. He had seen the panic-stricken expression on your face back there and never wanted to witness it ever again. A kiss on the temple would be his way of sealing the deal and his promises to keep you safe.

Following that day, if you still had any previous reservations about your boyfriend’s loyalty, they all dissipated after seeing how fired up and serious Eijirou had become when it came to protecting you. He would give you all the comfort you needed after the run-in if you were still shaken up and would be very clingy and attentive. He would give you space if you asked, but would be at your beck and call for a while, wanting to ease the pain of the traumatic experience.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you and I’ll never let you go,” he would mumble into the top of your shoulder as he held you close, hands on your sides and thumbs slowly soothing the skin there with small strokes. And you completely believed him with all of your heart, and your trust was the best thing he could ever ask for and receive from you.

[butterbeerblurbs]

feeling heavy in the strongest arms (f.w.)

💌 : today, your heart felt exceptionally heavy. fred holds your heart gently in his hands, willing to keep you in his arms even if he doesn’t know why you feel that way. as long as it makes you feel a little bit better, that was all fred was willing to take.

📝 word count: 1,786 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸 ☔️ pretty sad feels but somewhat comforting...? idek

💬: i just pictured, this could be one of the way fred could comfort y/n when she’s feeling upset and there’s no direct reasoning (also bc i see fred as someone who’s sensible to someone’s emotions, especially someone he’s infatuated with ;w;)

from the moment fred’s eyes landed on you in the great hall to start off his morning, something didn’t quite sit right. sure, you gave him the usual smile that sends the tingles down his spine and the burst of warmth gently combusts within when he’s able to spare you a kiss on your cheek as you take your spot next to him but... still, something’s not right.

“g’morning pretty lady,” fred tries the playful method and anticipates for the usual look of “fake” disgust. it doesn’t happen. instead he gets a small smile, a chuckle, even though he feels like that’s the last thing you want to be doing. 

“good morning, freddie,”

yet, fred doesn’t think it’s all that good.

he lets it slide, deciding not to bring it up in the morning when... maybe, just maybe, you didn’t sleep well? he’s hoping for that to be the case (because then it’s another excuse to take a nap together) but... no. when hermione asks if you slept well, you said you slept like a baby. you slept through angelina’s bloody snoring. that only meant you did sleep well.

if it’s not sleep then... hm... could it be-”oi, what are you doing? thinking about eating your own girlfriend for breakfast instead of what’s in front of you?”

fred turns to a mirror of himself, raising a brow with a smirk, “do you really want me to answer that, georgie?”

george gags and looks away, “merlin, you’re going to make me vomit out what i just ate,”

fred hears your voice laughing at what you’ve managed to hear between him and his twin. but when he glances back and locks eyes with you for a moment, he still doesn’t buy that everything’s alright.

//

said ginger boy is still confused as the day continues.

he’s had hours to ponder upon this and the more he observes from you, the more confused he gets. his answers doesn’t match up with the way you were acting (yes, he has been staring at you for a rather long time than doing actual work). it’s like... you were fine? but not really? fine to the eyes of the public, tip-top shape but... nothing about you gets past fred weasley.

absolutely nothing. not when he’s spent days upon months that gathered into the years of learning about you, still surprising himself how much he’s able to love you more each day.

this... this was new.

he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. he’ll continue thinking about it if it wasn’t for-”mr. weasley, maybe you’ll be able to produce something of worth if you actually did the work,” snape’s voice stiffen’s fred’s spine, and snape’s hand physically pushes the nape of his neck down to get to work.

he’ll get down to this soon enough... after potion’s, it seems.

//

surprisingly, fred manages to complete the task just in time for snape to barely let him scrape out of his classroom. fred anticipates he’ll have to rush after you as he collects his things but-”you alright, freddie?”

that voice makes him almost drop his book, missing his bag by an inch as he snaps his head towards the source of who that voice belonged to.

he gapes when you’re standing in front of him with a small smile, books to your chest and bag over your shoulder. you came to check up on him. even when it seems like the world has been unfairly cruel to you, you, still proved the world wrong with such kindness fred thinks you must be an actual angel.

“y-y/n,” he gapes, and that’s starting to-”you’re scaring me, freddie, are you alright?”

he runs his hand through his hair and stares at you, bewildered. however, he is thankful that the room is now empty as the remaining couple of students flutter out. “how?”

he hates how you look genuinely confused as your brows knit together, a pout forming whenever you felt unsure about something.

“h-how what?”

“how could you ask me that? how?” he shoves his book into his bag and leaves it on the stool, now both hands freely extending towards you to give you a gentle shake by your sides, “how can you ask me that when you’re the one not feeling okay?”

like a switch, fred watches as the facade you’ve been putting up all morning seems to crumble. he notices it starts with your breath hitching, which then slowly trails off to how your eyes appear sharp, suddenly blurry with the tell-tales of tears glassing over. fred could see himself frowning in them, and he absolutely hates the gut-wrenching feeling that swallows him whole.

even when you’re about to cry, there’s still a smile on your face.

“i-i can’t seem to hide anything from you, huh fred weasley?”

fred takes this moment to slip your books past your hands, nudging them onto the table. you allow your bag to slip from your shoulders as he tries to keep you close. and he doesn’t know if he’s doing that for your sake, or his.

“i... i feel heavy, freddie,” your voice barely makes it out to him, but it does. and each word is breaking his heart as he watches you try to explain your feelings that you weren’t completely sure of yourself. “it’s like... there’s a weight on my heart, pressing me down and i-”you lick your lips, tasting the saltiness trickling down you cheeks-”-i... feel so heavy, my heart feels so heavy,” you’re clutching onto the fabric of your robe directly above your heart, “it hurts so much, and i don’t even know why,” your voice is strained, stretched out across acres of trying to figure out why you feel like this but to no avail.

“i was feeling okay when i woke up this morning,” your lips are quivering at this point, sniffing as the tears can’t seem to stop, “why does it feel like my world has turned upside down all of a sudden?” fred knows you’re not asking him for the answer, rather, if there was a cruel higher up that was playing mind games with you, that was surely where your questions were directed to.

“i-i have everything, maybe not everything entirely but i should be happy,” you breathed in and out heavily, feeling your knees shaking, “and i am, genuinely am, but today,” fred doesn’t know since when you were out of breath, “m-my heart aches so much,”

fred flinches when you blink up to him, tears falling like your heart at the unexplainable weight that made its way without you noticing. he holds you tight, almost crushing you as he keeps you close to him like it’s the only thing he knows how to comfort you now. your hands don’t even make it around him, only going so far up to his waist to clutch onto the material of his robe hanging by his sides. he closes his eyes and gently strokes the back of your head, attempting to ease your sobs against his chest. he’ll willingly soak all of your tears, sadness, any ill feelings if he could. but knowing he can’t, if this could make you a little bit better or ease just a portion of the weight you were feeling, that’s as much as he’s grateful for.

it feels like an eternity ticked by but in reality it’s a mere ten minutes. your erratic breathing has calmed down from the nosedive of emotions you displayed that it’s starting to make you blush a little. fred only notices this when you’ve gone extremely quiet. he leans back just a little to peek at you, not only with red puffy eyes but also red cheeks.

“what’s the matter, love?” he asks softly, dipping down to get a glance at your eyes that seem too shy to meet with his now.

“i... i’m sorry, this was a lot to take in and... i just realised how much it was,” your tone was different this time. it registered to fred that... this was a tone he recognized. one of your hands remain holding to his robe, while the other reaching up to lightly punch his chest.

it may sound ridiculous but fred could hear yourself coming back. he could feel the aura around your changing.

“don’t tell me you’re sorry, y/n. you’re absolutely mad if you feel that now,” he raises a brow at you, “after all you just said? and cried? are you crazy?”

that makes you giggle - a genuine one, fred thinks - hands gingerly crawling around him to finally return the long-awaited hug.

“well... it’s... it’s not everyday you suddenly have to deal with your girlfriend bursting into tears and have no specific reason for it,” your voice is still raspy and sore from all the crying, but fred could pick out the syllables that gesture to him sonically that you were feeling better.

“i’d gladly take all of that in if it means i’m helping you overcome it,” he proudly puffs his chest out with that grin on his face but it also makes your heart swell at how much love you could feel he’s pouring just from the way he’s staring at you.

“thank you, freddie,” you lean forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, cheek against his chest. you can hear him smile as he squeezes you, then sway your bodies idly as he hums back, “don’t need to thank me, love,”

as the pair of you stay like that in silence (only for a few more minutes before you’d have to hurry along for the day), it’s like there’s an understanding that fred can’t possibly lift the weight up entirely for you. these were your emotions, after all.

but that doesn’t mean fred can’t stay with you as you get through them.

hand in hand, chest to chest.

((”promise if you want to cry, you’ll come to me? or at least, come see me after?” fred didn’t give you room to answer as he squishes your cheeks, towering over you with concerned eyes even though you're laughing, “yes, love? is that a yes? if you’re laughing like a goddess sent from above, i’ll take that as a yes!”

he was having a bit of trouble trying to push your cheeks together when you were grinning so wide, it’s making his heart do somersaults. not even the groaning of people at the common room could divert him away. (the both of you were, afterall, just mere steps away from them when you’re just by the stairs)

“yes, freddie, promise.”

“atta girl.” he winks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he watches you go up to your room.))

[vocalyunho]

Tangerine

pairing — Mingi x reader (fem)

genre — fluff, angst, friends with benefits au, smut (first time)

warnings & tags — reader uses a bratty attitude as a defence mechanism, Mingi’s soft side as well as his dom side make their appearance, semi-fwb to fully being fwb, power bottom! Mingi, kinda bratty & sub! reader, handjob, blowjob, praising, masturbation, mention of cunnilingus, fingering, choking, explicit unprotected sex, spanking, pull out method, mention of blood.

word count — 4.2k

synopsis — Mingi and her agreed to help each other out whenever they need it, but after this incident...how long will it take for them to realise that their agreement isn’t only an ‘agreement’ anymore? 

A drop of spit landed on her sternum as she slightly relaxed her jaw. The contrast between her body’s heat and the drop’s made her notice it as it slid down and tickled her a little. Mingi, carefully, ran his hands along the sides of her head, fingers dipping in the smooth hair until his hands met each other on the back of her head to hold her hair in the most loose ponytail. 

“you’re doing so well-”, his gaze is soft when she looks at him with mouth stuffed and eyes hazy “-so so well, baby”

Her tongue ran on the underside of his cock to show her appreciation for the validation Mingi offered her, and right afterwards, she slightly grazed his tip with her teeth. Mingi sighed at that, a sigh that was content and on the verge of becoming a moan. 

He pressed his hips forwards, as much as he could from the sitting position he was in. The couch screeched slightly and her hand gripped his thigh harsher in an attempt to bear the gag reflex that made its way to her. His tip found the back of her throat and her eyes watered in a second but Mingi could only see the flushed cheeks and swollen lips that had him wondering if it’s worth it, right now, to just stop everything and kiss her. It was, but he didn’t. Instead, he let himself enjoy the view of her tears making their way down her cheeks until they, somehow, disappeared.

“such a good girl -my godd”, his head fell on the back of the couch. The praise was simple and one she’s heard several times before, but that didn’t stop her knees from weakening even if they were already resting on the floor. She hollowed her cheeks, giving him a more intense pressure around the tip and Mingi groaned, letting his hands fall from her hair. y/n snickered mockingly, loving the effect she had on him and the next moment, Mingi barely took a few words out “d-don’t make me come-”, a sharp breath followed “-just yett”.

The demand had her slowing her ministrations in an instant...her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and her lips detached from him with a wet pop that echoed louder than she expected. Only her hand kept pumping him slowly, just enough to keep him hard “no?”

“no”

“did I do something wrong?”, she asked, looking up at him, even though she already knew she was doing great. Her only view of his face was his Adam’s apple that was dancing pathetically inside his throat while his chest rose and fell constantly and his hand was gripping the wearied fabric of the couch harshly.

“no”

“what is it then?”, she cocked a brow, though he couldn’t see her.

Mingi took a moment to calm down. He was way too close and he only realised it now that she stopped.

“I just- fuckk-”

As he had just managed to stabilize his breaths, she licked a stripe from his base to his tip making shivers wash his thighs. It wasn’t unusual for her to tease him like that, so the reaction didn’t go unnoticed and the mocking smile from before made its appearance again before Mingi tried his best to finish his sentence. “-want us to try something new”.

She tilted her head in confusion, “right now?”

“right now”

“all of a sudden?”

Mingi nodded and felt his heart tightening. He didn’t know how she’d react to his idea, especially since it wasn’t a part of their deal.

To him, y/n was the good girl that had his body shaking and his dick twitching just by the skills of her mouth and hands, and to her, he was the guy that had her legs quivering and her lips releasing lustful moans just by the games of his tongue and fingers inside her. They were only that for each other and just that...until now.

Mingi needed more, he’s been needing more for quite a while now, actually. He needs to feel her all over him, on him, around him, under him, however she likes as long as it is only for him, and he needs it desperately...even though it isn’t a part of their agreement.

He doesn’t only want her to wrap her pretty lips around his tip anymore, but to lay her lips upon his and to rest her tongue inside his mouth...he wants her to tangle her fingers in his sweaty locks and be able to look at her in the eyes as she does and he, especially, wants to finally hear her pretty sounds, all of them, without her trying to hold some back.

“I want you to ride me”, Mingi spoke fast. 

“what the fuck?”, was her first reaction “that wasn’t a part of our agreement”, she let him go.

“I know...you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to”

A moment of complete silence followed, with only their breaths -especially Mingi’s heavy one- echoing in the room. y/n looked as if she was ready to defend herself any minute and Mingi couldn’t blame her. What he was asking for, after all, wasn’t just a favour, he was asking her to lose her virginity to him and he was no one important or special to her.

Anyone reading this right now would’ve guessed that y/n isn’t a virgin, but appearance is often deceiving. Other than foreplay (lots of it), she’s never had penetrative sex with anyone before, as surprising as that may sound. That’s why Mingi was insecure about what he was asking for.

“I just thought-”

“if you want me to do that-”, she talked back fast.

Mingi waited to hear what she had in mind.

“-you'll eat me out twice next time I come over”, she said while standing up and trying to regain her balance because of her sore knees “you owe me for blowing you, anyway”

Mingi was the one who was taken aback now. Her first reaction had made him decide that there’s no way she’d agree, and now she wasn’t only willing to do it, but demanding and straight forward too. The stereotypes had taught him that when a girl decides to lose her virginity, she does it with someone she trusts and she’s shy and, maybe, a little scared before doing so. Mingi was either foolish enough to believe those stereotypes or y/n didn’t see virginity loss as something as important as others (he didn’t even consider the case of y/n actually wanting to lose her virginity to him).

“deal”

His heart skipped a beat at the images that flooded his mind. As she stood up and stripped herself from all the clothings, something inside Mingi told him that he had to see her breaking down for him, to see her real self, and he only realized what was going on when she straddled him. She managed to do it without touching his erection but once he was back to real life, Mingi gripped her sides and forced her to sit on his lap, trapping his hard on between their bodies. He did it on purpose and she knew it. The sensitive bundle of nerves on his tip sensed the wetness on the thin fabric of her panties, instantly, but she didn’t seem to care one bit. It was reasonable for her to grow wet, she was sucking him off, after all.

“do you have a condom?”, she broke the silence.

“fuck”

“you asked me to fuck you and you don’t even have a condom?”

“I hadn’t planned it”

She rolled her eyes “can you at least- pull out?”

“I think so”

“just warn me when you’re close, I don’t want you coming inside me”.

Mingi nodded in anticipation and guided his hand on her back, touching her feather-like, and travelling upwards until his hand met the back of her head and his eyes, y/n’s gaze. He forced her head forward until they were eye level with each other. She looked relaxed but he knew she wasn’t as chill as she seemed. Her heart was beating faster than every other time inside her ribcage and her breaths were jerky, that’s why he stretched his neck and got closer to her face. He let her feel his calm breathing for a moment before connecting their lips simply (kissing was a part of their agreement as a ‘mood maker’ only). Her eyelids fell shut and her hands rested on her thighs but the burn inside her was still hot and bothering. 

“no need for that”, he said as he broke the kiss.

“what?”

“your hands are shaking”

She looked at them and Mingi realised she wasn’t aware of it until he mentioned it. He rested both of his hands on top of hers, an action that was new both to y/n and him, since they haven’t been intimate in this way towards each other before. Everything they ever did was restricted to their primal needs and lacked any type of emotion, and this right now broke the second rule. 

She shook her head as if the shaking was nothing but Mingi didn’t take long to speak the first thing in his mind, “I’ll take care of you”. His thumbs caressed her knuckles and as much as she liked this side of him, she still tried to overlook it, she tried every time.

He’s always been good to her, praising her good job, complimenting the little details, giving her all the validation she needed...the complete opposite to her. She had never shown him a single hint of deeper emotion or given him the slightest praise. Even when his fingers were buried inside her, even when she was on the verge from the pleasure he gave her and even when he called her “baby”, she didn’t show him everything she felt. She fooled herself by thinking that she shouldn’t let it get to his head when, in reality, she was just scared. If she did show Mingi how he made her feel, he’d want to get better and give her more and...she’d fall for him. 

She didn’t want that but the fact that she agreed on what he had asked her for and the way her heart skipped beats at his words, said otherwise. She knew it, but she overlooked it again. Thus, she kissed him once more, only this time her hands rested on his bare chest.

Her lips moved smoothly against his in a slow yet needy pace until Mingi, suddenly, moaned. y/n smiled against his lips, barely grinding on his erection, loving the effect she had on him and careful not to make a sound herself. And as he was about to slip his tongue inside her mouth...she parted. Mingi chased after her lips but y/n lifted her body and held herself up on her knees as a careful hand found her underwear and slid it to the side. Dropping her head forwards, her pointer and middle finger massaged her clit for a bit before the neediest lip Mingi has ever seen of her, got trapped between her teeth. Her eyebrows furrowed, accompanying the bitten lip, and Mingi thought that if the expression on her face could take the form of a sound, that sound would be a breathy, ecstatic moan on the verge of turning into a needy meowl. If she only let him see that expression again, while he’s inside her, Mingi would be the happiest man alive.

He sat there, watching her in awe but the force of habit made him replace her fingers with his and stretch her hole by inserting two fingers in it, without even thinking. y/n’s breath got caught in her throat and her hands landed on his shoulders subconsciously, only for Mingi to pump them slowly to test the wetness at first. She had to be prepared for something larger so he added a third one, not long after, expecting her to moan out loudly as she always did, but she didn’t. Instead, she smiled and bit her lip in content at the new stretch. Her head fell backwards and her hand gripped the wrist that was working magic inside her but didn’t try to stop it. She let him speed up and give her the sweet stimulation she deserved.

“that was s-sudden”, she chuckled as if this was nothing, yet she was secretly loving it.

Mingi was already mesmerized by the view in front of him but that didn’t stop him from speeding up sensibly. Her wetness resounded with every thrust of his digits until he decided to bury them inside her and collide his palm with her clit. He curled his fingers while massaging the bundle of nerves, something he’s never done before, and y/n cursed. She clenched around him and that’s when she finally moaned loudly. 

Mingi couldn’t wait for the moment he’d see her reaction to him getting buried inside her. He didn’t know why he wanted that so much...he’d seen her reaction to his fingers and tongue multiple times before but something about her losing it over his cock, took him to heaven.

On the same side, y/n had always thought that if Mingi was this good with his hands, there’s no doubt he’d be ten times better with his dick. She was indeed a little scared of losing her virginity, but she was much more impatient to find out if her conjectures would get confirmed. Thus, when she felt the knot in her stomach tighten, she grabbed his wrist harshly and stopped his ministrations instantly.

“I-I thought you’d fuck me”, she said out of breath.

“I was preparing you”

“Do I look like I need fucking preparation?”

There it was again...that attitude that had Mingi needing her more. Her eyes were drowsy but her voice strong and in any other case, he would get mad at an attitude like this but when it came to her, he found it the hottest thing in the world. He wouldn’t lie if he said that sometimes, when he thought of the way she acted, he got helplessly hard at times that his hand was the only solution.

She stared at him but instead of getting a response, Mingi licked his lips and moved his hand from her, to his erection fast. If she wanted it now, she’d get it now. 

She was already keeping herself up on her knees, so he aligned himself with her core easily but instead of pushing in, he grazed his tip along her sensitive parts, taking the time to travel from where she needed him the most, to her clit and back again. 

“fuck”, y/n sighed, the new type of friction getting her weaker than she expected. Her legs trembled and Mingi noticed and exhaled in content, seeing how such little stimulation started tearing her wall of pride down, already. It felt like her previous bratty attitude stayed in the past as her brows raised in need.

She was just as cute as he always thought she’d be and when she rested her forehead against his (as a readiness indicator he thought), Mingi found the chance to push in, wanting to see her very first and honest reaction.

To say that she didn’t let him down would be only an understatement...her breath fanned his lips, her face scrunched up and her lips took the shape of an ‘o’, and all of this while a soft cry resounded in the small living room. He almost witnessed her real self. 

His tip was, for sure, larger than his fingers so her body going into autopilot mode, was understandable. She didn’t move one bit, so Mingi held her by the sides and started pushing her body down on him, slowly and gradually. Her voice broke more and more with every inch that was inserted and occasional ‘ah’s’ found their way out of her lips...it didn’t feel comfortable yet, it was painful for her. She’s never had something as big as this.

“fucking hell”

y/n shut her eyes in pain and Mingi let her take all the time she needed once he bottomed out, in order to get used to the stretch. They both knew she wouldn’t bleed (because Mingi was the one who had broken her hymen the first time he helped her out), but she still needed to adjust to something as new as this.

No words but only looks were exchanged between them when she tried to lift her body, and Mingi could’ve sworn to any God that tiny tangerine speckles danced in her eyes when she lowered and let him fill her again. A rough moan escaped him at the pressure she offered and after a few more knotty bounces her own pleasure sounds started making their own appearance. Her silk helped a lot and so did the slow pace.

It started feeling good sooner than she had expected and so, her arms rested on his shoulders as his, layed on her thighs. She moved agonizingly slow, often hissing at the girth, and once she got used to the sense, her body started asking for more. 

She went faster, just enough to gain more stimulation and Mingi moaned at that. His hands were caressing her thighs in the rhythm of her bounces, his eyes were glued on her face and even if y/n wanted to increase the pace, she wanted something else more. She had the need to see him take control. 

She wanted Mingi to do her as he pleased, to show her how he liked it, to be rough with her and to just...be at his mercy for once, but how would she ask for that without seeming weak?

She kept bouncing on him in a steady pace...Mingi was big, she knew that very well and he felt...perfect. Every time he got buried to the hilt, her walls tightened but Mingi wasn’t in the right state of mind to notice she was doing it on purpose. Instead he let himself enjoy it until his body started needing more and that need came out in the form of a groan that was deeper than his already deep speaking voice. He wanted her to bounce on him faster, to feel every corner of her, to feel his tip reaching her deepest parts.

“go faster”, he commanded but y/n continued moving as she was, like she didn’t hear him. Mingi tried to snap his hips upwards but it was impossible with both of them moving at the same time, so he said it again and louder this time.

“I said go faster”

y/n tried her best to keep her composure and talk to him, without her voice betraying how hard it was to think straight.

“why don’t you man up and fuck me yourself then?”

She said with effort and then stopped...with him buried inside her, twitching at the attitude she gave even now. Mingi’s eyebrows raised in surprise and y/n cocked a brow full of pride, because she knew exactly what her words were doing to him. She wanted him to ruin her and she’d get it the way she knew best...by provoking him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”, he tilted his head, obviously bothered by her comment.

“can you even fuck me properly or is fingering the only thing you can do well?”

Mingi’s tongue poked the side of his cheek at the frustration that washed his body. He didn’t want to go hard on her for the sake of this being her first time, but her attitude hadn’t given him a single break. There’s no way he would take it anymore.

“you really don’t think before speaking, do you?”

The provocative eyebrow disappeared when Mingi placed his hands on her ass and gripped each cheek harshly. A harsh slap resounded before he lifted and pressed her down on him with full force...and then he did it again and again and again and y/n found her jaw going slack. He didn’t hold himself back at all. Her hair moved in every which way and landed on her face messily, her arms wrapped around his neck, holding for dear life, her legs lost all their strength but Mingi kept it up. He got drunk on the slapping sound of her ass against his thighs and her high pitched cries and, maybe, he liked more than he should the fact that her lips ghosted over his...open and ready to be kissed. And he would kiss her if his mind wasn’t hazy and if he didn’t want to prove that, what she’s gotten herself into was brattier than her attitude.

y/n cried out in pleasure, he reached so deep that he hit every right spot, every part that had the burn inside her turn into a big fire and she’s sure she wants to feel that more often. Even though Mingi couldn’t do it, she did it herself. She captured his lips in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss as he still bounced her on him. It was messy, but she needed it and Mingi returned it feverishly. Their noses brushed each other’s, their breaths got mixed creating a heavy sound and they only parted when y/n cursed under her breath at the part he reached. 

“right there, baby?”

“pplease more”

“huh?”

“M-Mingi please”, she cried out.

They fucked shamelessly, not giving a damn about Mingi’s neighbours hearing them. They got addicted to each other’s effect. 

y/n lost herself when he wrapped his hand around her throat. His dominant side was better than she had expected. No one’s ever treated her like that and only now did she realise how much she liked it.

“you’ve gotten y-yourself into big trouble, d’you know that?”, he squeezed the sides of her throat making her yelp.

“ha-harder please”

“can you even ttake it?”

Mingi said before forcing her to come face to face with him. He kept her stable right where their lips almost touched and before y/n could connect them, he snapped his hips up. Her eyes rolled back and her jaw went slack. He found it, he found that one spot and with every thrust, he hit it harder and harder and harder until she went completely crazy. 

Her body trembled, her head was left on the will of his hand and her core tightened so much that Mingi felt his body burning. 

She cried out for more, though she couldn’t take it. Mingi knew he had reached her g-spot, her pathetic voice confirmed it but he didn’t complain...he felt better than ever before and he loved her sounds, he always did. You could say they were the ones that brought him to his climax right after hers.

Mingi thrusted fast until he suddenly left her throat and raised her body enough to pull out fast. He pumped himself with quick, small strokes as y/n fell messily on his thighs. Her hands found his chest and her face took an expression Mingi’s never witnessed before. 

Thick white liquid got spread on his thighs, right under her body but he didn’t notice it as his climax made its way to him. He let out moans, both rough and sweet, both needy and full of relief and came on his stomach and chest (some of it reached her hands too).

His arms fell on each side of his body lifelessly and his head fell on the couch as low curses showed how rough his high was. He breathed fastly and so did y/n who rested her upper body against his, not minding the cum that got trapped between their bodies. 

It took them a moment to calm down. y/n was so weak she could barely move, it was even hard for her to feel her legs and when Mingi looked at her form, he realised that all that attitude she gives, hides the version of herself she’s afraid to show. She needs someone to take care of her for once, for her to not have to take care of herself by her own all the time. She wants someone to take control and guide her. He wanted to kiss her softly and tell her that he could take care of her but when he gripped her sides and slid her upwards and closer to him, she hissed lowly. Her clit got dragged on his thigh and the sensitivity was unbearable but when she raised her head and looked at him with eyes drowsy and features soft, he couldn’t help but cup her chin and kiss her.

“you fucker...you’re good”, she whispered, resting her forehead against his and making him giggle.

“I’m even better at the missionary”

“next time?”

“for sure”

How long would it take for them to realise their agreement isn’t only an ‘agreement’ anymore?

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[jaeminzie]

better than words | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: finally taking his friends’ advice, the not-so-cunning donghyuck finds a way to show his profound feelings toward his respectfully patient herbology partner.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,226

a/n: lawd it’s been a while since i’ve posted a fic but here it is ! a week delayed from valentine’s but let’s just pretend it’s the 14th :,]

‘better than words’ by one direction

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

like most hufflepuffs, you have a natural interest and talent with every living thing, including plants. herbology is one of the classes that you excell at and enjoy doing. though, the hufflepuff class had to deal with the subject with none other than the slytherins.

students walked into the greenhouse chatting, but soon became quiet once professor sprout called out for your attention, “everyone! in celebration of valentine’s day, i came up with the brilliant idea of hosting a contest! the objective is to successfully cast the herbivicus charm on a rose. this charm is used to rapidly grow whatever plant you desire.” everyone looked at each other warily, completely uninterested in some gardening spell. “since this spell needs precise movements, you will need a partner to help guide you.”

immediately, students began making eye contact with their preferred partners. lee donghyuck turned his head slightly toward your body standing next to him and nibbled his bottom lip. your relationship with donghyuck was rather interesting. being seatmates in this class, you choose to be kind and offer help whenever you see him struggling which would usually not be accepted by the boy. you believed his attitude was because of professor sprout moving him all the way at the front of the class next to you in punishment of being the initiator of constant disruption with his friends stood at the back. you didn’t mind the silence though. but in reality, donghyuck wasn’t sure how to talk to you without being too straightforward as he’s been told many times that he is slightly too shameless. he was afraid to say or do anything that could potentially hurt your feelings when he’d had no intention in doing so.

“to make it easier for everyone, your partner will be the person standing next to you.” professor sprout said her ‘good luck’s’ before dismissing us to work on the assignment. “whoever perfects the charm first wins.” she smiles before heading toward her desk covered in plant roots in the corner.

taking a deep breath before turning to the boy, you greeted him — to which he replied with a simple nod and pursed lips while avoiding eye contact. you cleared your throat at the awkwardness prior to politely asking, “do you want to be the one monitoring me or casting the charm?”

“i’ll cast it.” he grabbed the book placed in front of you and began flipping through the pages loudly. he began examining the words on the brown paper and clicked his tongue, “this will be easy.”

you let out a small laugh, “it looks pretty complicated.” you skimmed through the lines along with him, leaning forward closely in order to see clearly. donghyuck leaned back slightly when he noticed the close distance between your faces. the boy’s heart raced the moment he felt your hair brush against his right cheek. he wanted so badly to slap himself for not being able to contain his feelings.

he crossed his arms, tongue poking the inside of his right cheek in an attempt to not smile, “are you saying i can’t do it?”

“of course not, just be realistic.” your smile faltered when the once-gone awkwardness made its return when the last portion of your sentence came out instinctively. “oh, um, that didn’t come out well. just- i just mean that-”

“don’t.” he said blankly while you slightly pouted at his words since you’ve already failed to maintain a decent conversation barely five minutes in.

you bit your tongue at his response and forced yourself to move on since you wanted nothing more than to disappear from this situation. donghyuck rolled up the sleeves of his oversized green robe the best he could before waving his wand experimentally. “it says to-”

he cuts you off, “i don’t need assistance.” the tiniest quiver of your bottom lip caught his attention before it was directed toward his friends who were making obnoxious kissy faces toward your two distanced bodies. he glared at them before tilting his head slightly when he noticed your hunched figure standing timidly, starting to feel the regret in his unnecessary words. donghyuck cleared his throat and began to follow the instructions written in the book.

you carefully watched donghyuck’s wand, mentally taking notes on the movements. his long fingers delicately held his wooden wand that fits perfectly in his grip and moved it with such grace, creating imaginary loops and curves just how the book had described. “herbivicus.” he breathlessly spoke when he was finishing up the wand movements.

he proved his previous statement when the rose sprout began to flourish steadily. donghyuck turned, unintentionally making his shoulder hit your arm, and walked toward professor sprout. observing from afar, you see the professor’s face brighten when he was done speaking politely with his hands put behind his back. donghyuck nodded before turning to walk back toward your shared working table. gathering enough courage when he got close to you, you asked, “what did she say?”

he walked past you and began tending more flowers planted on the dirt tray behind you without saying a word. at this point, your patience was crippling. “are you just gonna ignore me?”

without even turning his head to face you, he shook his head at your question. “then answer me verbally.”

donghyuck physically melted as his knees felt weaker when hearing your fragile tone trying to be assertive. he moved his wand quicker, trying not to prolong the silence between the two of you. once the wide variety of flowers were fully grown in front of him, he attached them together with a ribbon before taking a deep breath. he’s been told by his friends that actions speak louder than words when asking for advice on courting a person he has interest in. lots of interest. he used to always scoff whenever they’d say that, but his desperation grew over time of not being able to initiate a proper conversation.

donghyuck felt stupid for doing this which was evidently shown through his red face and sweaty palms. he straightened his back and held the flowers with both hands, placing them in front of him.

he turned around to face you teary-eyed, the tears were threatening to spill at any moment. donghyuck’s shoulders and face dropped upon hearing your tiny voice, “why don’t you like me? did i ever offend you? or do i just annoy you?” donghyuck muttered curse words at himself for making you think this way. he placed the flowers on the table by his side and hesitantly hovered his hands over your shoulders, testing the limits. when you didn’t flinch away, he softly rested them on your shoulders, brushing his thumb against the soft fabric of your yellow robe.

“no. . . to all of those.” seeing your flushed cheeks and nose made him want nothing more than to caress your cheeks. he looked around the class and made sure no one could see him pull you two toward the exit located right next to your working station, making sure to bring the flowers and placing them behind his back.

you yelp when donghyuck gently placed you against the brick wall, his hands barely had any grip on your robe like he was afraid to cause any further damage. your breath hitched when he dropped his hands into his pockets and looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you furrowed an eyebrow, not knowing how to react at this moment.

“i have a feeling i haven’t been the nicest to you.” he nibbled on his lip while you tried not to chuckle at his statement. “um, it’s stupid but i’m always cautious not to behave a certain way that’ll hurt you by. . . not talking to you at all or cutting our conversations as short as possible.”

he groaned and let his head fall back as he realized how childish and inconsiderate his actions were. your facial features softened as he faced you again with a coy smile. “forgive me, i swear i don’t not like you.”

he laughed breathlessly, “it’s quite the opposite actually.” the now pink-tinted boy’s right hand ran through his hair repeatedly before placing it on the wall behind you. “i’m really sorry.”

you blinked at him. “it’s okay. thank you for explaining, actually.” you cleared your throat. “i’m just glad you don’t hate me or something.”

“so, how would you feel about me liking you?” his once shy smile is now gone and has been replaced with a sly smirk. you were taken back from the sudden change of confidence from the boy.

you shrieked under his strong gaze as he stepped closer to your figure. “oh, i- um. i, i wouldn’t be. . . opposed.” his smirk grew bigger at your answer.

donghyuck took his hand off the walk and stepped back slightly and placed his left hand in front of his chest, showing the bundle of flowers he had tended for you. he stood there holding the bundle of the prettiest flower he chose himself with his still-sweaty palms, and smiling softly causing his still-pink cheeks to round. donghyuck surely held his composure quite well with his smooth comments and actions but the red tinted ears of his were clear even under the dimly lit walkway, giving his nervousness away. “this was what i was doing when you were talking to me.”

he scratched his head with his free hand, “sorry, i was fully immersed. y’know, concentrating.”

you nodded slowly at him. “got it.” you spoke slowly while eyeing the flowers in his hands.

donghyuck giggled at your state, all flustered and not knowing what to say. he could definitely get used to this view. “would you be opposed to going out to hogsmeade with me?” his hand went back onto the wall and his face leaned very closely to yours. “my treat.” a smile slowly made an appearance on his godly face.

you were baffled. just ten minutes ago, you were one second away from crying in the middle of class because of the same guy who’s making your heart flutter in a way that you’ve never experienced before. the same guy who wouldn’t even speak a proper grammatically complete sentence to you prior to the past couple minutes.

he quirked an eyebrow as he patiently waited for your response. taking a deep breath, you seriously had nothing to lose. “no, i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” donghyuck smiled at how you can finally speak a full sentence without taking any pauses or stumbling upon your words.

once again, he pushed himself off the wall to grab your hand and arranged them so that you were now holding the flowers. you felt a wave of heat rush onto your cheeks and you tried to hide by keeping your focus on the colorful array of petals, allowing your head to stay low.

this obviously didn’t satisfy donghyuck since he wanted to stare at your flustered state all day. his pointer finger rested under your chin and pushed your head up to force you into maintaining the intense eye contact. pretty. he thought. your eyes were still shiny, and face even redder. donghyuck smiled at the up-close view of the face he had to restrain himself from staring at for too long in the past. savoring this moment, he examined your face slowly. taking all the time he needed and did not need, he continued to stare at the way your mouth fell slightly open, counting the seconds you could last without blinking your eyes and holding your breath when he stood so near you.

his brown, yet bright, eyes looked back at yours, he spoke softly, “good. i’ll wait for you outside your common room right before the sun sets tomorrow.”

you let out a breathy laugh at the vague description. “and what time is that?”

“anytime you’re ready.” his warm breath hits your hot cheeks, making your smile falter. donghyuck notices his effect on you and keeps that in mind for future purposes that you’ll soon loathe him for. “just don’t keep me waiting for too long. i’m already excited to be with you.” donghyuck smiled at the double meaning of his own sentence, feeling proud of himself for finally making a move and smiling at the sweet thought of his friends no longer pestering him to talk to you nor poking fun at him for being a bit of a coward.

the boy had to force himself to step away, but his gaze was still set on you. “i’ll see you tomorrow. anticipate it for me.” you blinked and nodded at his order while he winked at you before he made room for you to move past him and walk back toward the greenhouse.

donghyuck pushed open the door for you to enter and was automatically greeted with wide smiles from his friends still standing at the back of the room, silently cheering for their friend. he shyly smiled back quickly before retreating his attention back to you. he noticed how you caressed the soft flowers in your hand with such adoration and a smile on your face that will never seem to leave — he wished to do the same to you. and he had a strong gut feeling that his wish would soon be granted.

[theredsuzuran]

Yandere Muzan x Reader

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, also for my crappy writing I hope It does not bore you lol. Slight mention of gore

It was the time of summer

A multitude of people hovering over one another in the vast space of the lively Asakusa city occupying the streets like tiny ants. Unfortunately it was same monotonous sight for kibutsuji Muzan progenitor of the morbid demon race, who seems to be roaming around uninterestingly looking for a suitable prey to hunt. The fleeting lives of mortals, their compassion, happiness, sorrow, pain held no value to him. They are pests who belong in the dirt or beneath his feet, inferior compare to a perfect being like himself. Nothing more than a tool that he won't hesitate to discard after his desires are fulfilled. All of a sudden his gaze felt upon a petite figure near a tailor shop, a large number of people gathering around her.

What's the matter, mister? Muzan inquired to a man next to him.

"if you are new definitely try her kimonos, now make way" the man said quickly as he rushed to the shop pushing all the people away. He was interested to know what the deal was about so he decided to stay for a while hoping it's worth the wait.

After a long delay muzan finally got the chance to view the women. As their eyes locked the dazzling city lights broader than the day itself felt dull in comparison for a moment, the once monochromatic world seems to change vibrantly with her luminous presence, As if goddess Amaterasu, the diety of sun herself have ascended from the heaven into the mortal realm. The demon lord stood there mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty, how can someone so close to perfection exist alongside those barbarians.

"How can I help you mister?" She questioned politely with her soft vocal. His endless thoughts were interrupted breaking the silence.

"Show me your kimonos"

And so his obsession started..

Days passed since his last encounter with the woman. He have come across numerous marvelous humans in everlasting lengthy life but never have his ruby eyes caught a glimpse of someone as alluring as her. The girl possesses an unique aura that differentiated her from the rest of the crowd, able to draw attention from the cold hearted creator of cannibalistic demons. At first muzan was just curious to know about that woman, possibly persuade her to become one of his underling because of the potentials she may carry. He frequently begun to visit her shop to but or sew different fabrics. Gaining basic information, like her name, likes and dislikes, etc. Her grandfather owned the tailor shop which sold finest quality garments from the beginning and were highly respected for their excellent tailoring. Continued by (y/n) at her family's will, who runs the shop with equal undying devotion.

She treated him with such kindness even though he was a ruthless demon not that she knew about it or let alone the existence of demons. The deepest corner of his dark heart illuminated with pure light whenever she was around and he came to the conclusion that she was the ray of sunshine he desires to perceive. Eversince he was cured from his fatal illness the only goal in his life was to conquer the sun which prevents him to achieve absolute perfection, in order to live an eternal and indestructible life or so he thought until that very day his eyes laid upon you. It would be stupid to think that demons are capable of experiencing love, concepts of feelings are completely foreign in their conciousness, it was more like obsession. His megalomania makes him believe he needs you no he wants you.

Alas, if only it was a fairytale. The king does not always gets what he desires and same goes for the demon lord when he finds out that his beloved darling already has a lover. As he witnessed the sight of you hugging your partner with passion. The way her eyes flutter infront of him when he caresses her cheeks making her turn away bashfully and how she hold his hand with her delicate ones while exchanging vows of love and loyalty towards each other made his blood boiled with fury. If anyone who can hold her fragile frame is none other but the demon lord himself yet there she was sharing intimacy with some filthy creature. His narcissistic self was put down with a lowlife, he cannot accept that his (y/n) was claimed someone else's. It was something he would never allow to happen.

"Kibutsuji san would you like to buy something today as well?" The women who now acknowledge his presence asked him cheerfully.

"Should I visit you later" a force smile graced on his pale features.

"Oh no, it's fine, let me introduce you to my fiancee" she said excitedly.

"Nice to meet you kibutsuji san" your fiancee said

"Pleasure to meet you as well" The demon scoffed under his breath but Kibutsuji was quite adamant he knew it was not hard to turn the tables anytime sooner as with a blink of an eye he can get rid of him by simply ordering his underlings without even hesitating to dirty his hands exclusive for his precious darling. But that was not what muzan was planning to do at all as his mind was engulfed with much sinister thoughts.

To insanity?

"You have been restless for a long time, what's wrong my child?" A man asked with a look of concern written all over his face looking straight at the figure of an anxious woman roaming around impatiently within the house.

"Its been a week father since he last wrote a letter to him" she mumbled softly disappointment painted across her features. The father could not help but laugh a little by her daughter's remark.

"Father please it is serious"

"I am sorry sweetheart but it might be that your fiancee is busy with wedding preparation" which made sense because the wedding would be taking place after three day and it was obvious that he was caught up with the arrangement. However there was a strange feeling inside her stomach which made her believe otherwise.

As the days passed the wedding day came close, with (y/n) still not receiving any message from her lover. Worried her to the core at this point all she wanted was to make sure of his safety as something constantly felt off. The guests came in one by one for the wedding ceremony but there was no sign of the groom.

It was getting unbearable for her to remain confined. Ignoring her father's request to stay inside she went outside in hope to check whether or not her lover was approaching but once again she was greeted with emptiness. Her eyes swell up with tears forming on both corners allowing her body to slowly hit the surface as she convinced herself that her lover will never come. The worst was yet to happen and before she could make any movement the ground beneath her feet started shaking and a shoji door opened consuming her into the darkness.

It was just the start of her miserable life under the demon's control.

"So you are finally awake", a sudden voice came echoing into her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes after regaining her consciousness. She moved her hands upwards in order to ease the headache only to find her hands tied up with shackles, a chilling sensation of overwhelming fear filled her entire senses as she remembered what happened prior.

"Where am I? Why am I chained?" Who are you?" she demanded furiously at the mysterious figure infront her which was now advancing at her direction from the dark corner of the dimly litted room.

"You are quite an impatient one?" The man gripped her chin roughly as her eyes protruded out with bewilderment.

"Can't even remember your daily customer?" A wicked smile curved across his countenance.

"K..Kibutsuji san" she parted her lips. Tears forming in her eyes once again. This made muzan even more irritated as he tightened his grip on her chin. (Y/n) whimpered with pain crying out loud.

"Your shouting won't help dear nobody apart from me can hear you scream" he said bluntly with his cold apathetic voice.

"Why?" (Y/n) lowered her head down holding his hand with her delicate ones trying her best to get a hold of him.

"Pardon?" Muzan inquired as he stared at your quivering form with his souless eyes there was no empathy in them or whatsoever although he felt pity. He cannot deny the fact that he was indeed attracted to her that's the reason why he put her into so much hassles.

"Where is my lover?" She asked sternly with her voice shaking a bit.

"Oh" muzan responded his hand still holding her chin tightly. This made her even more anxious she was unaware of the power he might possess and definitely she didn't had any intentions to risk her life.

"Why can't you humans move on and accept circumstances given before you?" it startled her as she cannot process what he meant.

"I don't.. u..understand" she said.

"Then you have to learn to accept me as your partner" muzan replied coldly (y/n) sat there looking at him with disbelief her heart and soul belonged to someone else and for a long time they have been together it's absolutely impossible to change the reality she was accustomed with just because some maniac wants to make her his partner.

"I can never" she murmured with disgust hinted in her voice. "I love him" throwing daggers in his direction not ready to submit her futile attempts of protest should pissed the demon lord even more but to her surprise she saw him smiling menacingly and in the corner of her eyes she saw the figure of her debilitate lover.

"Start from his fingers" muzan ordered one of his subordinate as they began chopping one of his finger making him scream in pain.

"No! please don't hurt him" trying to break free from the shackles she was tied with realizing it was fruitless she fell on the demon's knee begging with all the strength left within her in a last desperate attempt.

"You left me with no other choice, dear" he explained playing his sick games of manipulation on her. This was exactly what he needed to break her mind and she cannot help but rely on him pleading for his forgiveness feeding on his massive ego providing him ultimate satisfaction to witness the quivering frame of his darling clinging onto his knee in pure submission.

"Please I will do anything you say" she requested shaking like crazy.

"Anything?" Muzan questioned raising his eyebrow

"Yes" she replied without any hesitation.

"Be mine"

She already knew that he wanted this and she readily obliged in order to save her beloved, sacrificing her own life. Her only purpose was now to satisfy the demon lord, he was successful until the very end and it won't take long to make her completely his.

[animeyanderelover]

Can I request deidara with prompt 67?

One of the explosion boys coming your way.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, delusions, kidnapping, blindfolding, being tied up,chains, Stockholm syndrome, reader losing it, self-harming, blood

Prompt 67: “Say my name again like this.”

The only sound you were able to detect was your own shaking breath, nearly echoing in the eerily silence which surrounded you. How long had you been here, tied up in this position? You had no idea and this was what scared you. It couldn't have been more than a few hours, right? It was hard to tell given that you couldn't see anything. The blindfold in front of your eyes neglected you any kind vision, leaving you absolutely vulnerable and defenseless. Anything could happen to you now and you wouldn't even notice nor get the chance to fight.

But Deidara had surely have to come back very soon, wouldn't he? He wouldn't leave you all alone in here, right? You felt pure fear rising up inside of you whilst thinking that he might not come back after all. What if he had gotten bored of you? Or had been killed? You knew that you should actually be glad if he wouldn't come back in here. It meant that you were free to go. The problem simply was that next to the fact that you were tied up in pretty solid chains, preventing you from making any sort of handsights also that you had no idea were you even were. What if you were in the middle of nowhere? Were there even enough supplies to manage to hold on long enough until you would bump into some people? What if you would be attacked on your way for help? Deidara had taken all your weapons.

You hated it, how you actually wanted him to come back. But the sad reality was that the loneliness had slowly gotten to you over time. Not only that, but all the fear as well. You hated it whenever he left you alone because it meant you would have to be tied up again, being forced to endure again hours silence and darkness. With no food, no drinking, no chance to go to the tiolet. It was torture. On longer missions he took you most of the times with him so he could keep an eye on you. And then you had to rely on him because elsewise you might get hurt. In either scenario, it had always been the case that you had to rely on him.

So where was he?! Why wasn't he here yet?! A dry sob escaped your lips. You were afraid of being left alone in here. You couldn't stand this anymore and your body agreed. Your muscles were sore and stiff from sitting in the same positions for hours straight, your throat was dry and burning with the need to finally swallow some water, your stomach was twisting in an aching way around that clearly signalled that you were hungry and your wrists hurt due to being tightly squeezed from the cold iron. But the worst? That you had been robbed one of your most important senses. You couldn't see anything which left you relying on the next best sense you had left. Your hearing. But this made it even worse because whenever you even imagined to sense a slight creaking, you felt the absolutely not belonging together emotions of hope and fear rising up inside of you. You always hoped that the creaking meant that Deidara was back, but there was also this nerve-wracking anxiety that it was maybe a shinobi who had found this house.

It was killing you slowly inside and with every passing second you felt yourself growing more and more frightened. What if he had really lost interest? Or really gotten himself killed? Who would help you then?! No one knew that you were here! You would die! Without anyone knowing what had ever happened to you! That blonde boy had to come back! You needed him.

And suddenly you jerked forward, your thoughts starting to cartwheeling inside of your head. The chains instantly pulled you backwards, the sharper edges of the iron pressing themselves in your skin until you felt the stinging of them cutting in your skin. But in that moment you couldn't care less, feeling like suddenly you were hyperaware of every noise around you. It made you only feel more unhinged, the small noises making you tense up before leading to you pulling even tighter against the iron. Without even noticing you had even started crying, wetting the fabric of the blindfold with your tears, but you didn't even care about that. You honestly didn't give a damn about anything right now, not the slow stream of blood nor how much your throat hurt when you started whining and sobbing, the way it burned due to being completely dried out. Right now you only cared about one thing.

"Deidara! DEIDARA!" He didn't leave you. No, he would never do that. He had clearly said that he loved you. He couldn't leave you alone. You would die! You didn't want to die! "DEIDARA!!!" The only thing you seemed to be able to do now was screaming his name.

The moment you suddenly heard a door being slammed open, you choked on your own spit and the air, starting to cough violently. But even for that your panicked brain couldn't seem to care right now. You had currently only one person stuck in your mind. Was he back?! "Deidara!" Your mind focused intensely on the footsteps which stormed towards your door and with one loud bang the door to the room in which you were trapped was smashed open. "(y/n)?! What's wrong?!"

You bursted out in even more tears when you heard his voice which caused your whole body to loosen up a bit, all the uncontrolled tugging and pulling suddenly stopping. He was here! He was finally here! He hadn't forgotten you. You really wanted to say something, but the only thing you were able to do now was hiccuping and sobbing in relief.

"Why are you crying?!...Why are you bleeding?! What happened?!" With one swift movement you felt the fabric covering your eyes being ripped away from your face, finally allowing you to see what was going on around you. At first a dry whimper escaped your lips, your eyes not being able to handle all the sudden light attacking them again. You had to rapidly blink a couple of times before you finally got used to it again, finally being able to recognize the long-haired male who was hastily removing the chains around your wrists, obviously panicking when he saw the opened skin, red, raw and bloody from all of your brutal pushing before.

"What did you do?! Look, you're hurt! Why would you do something like this?!" He ruffled his hair, clearly stressed out about this. You on the other hand felt like you had just been punched in the face. Had you disappointed him? What if he wouldn't like you anymore because of this and just tie you up again, but this time without coming back? "Wait here, alright. I-I'll quickly get the first aid to treat your wounds." He tried to sound calm, not wanting you to get scared even more.

But the moment he tried to turn around, you literally just jumped onto him, catching him clearly off-guard with this. He blinked a bit surprised at you clinging tightly onto his body, body trembling with heavy sobs. You didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to stay with you. Your wrists honestly didn't hurt that much, your brain not even recognizing the pain in them. At least not as much as the painful stinging inside of you, mixed with the sweet feeling of relief. These two emotions, which clashed currently together in your brain, made you honestly a bit sick and slightly dizzy. Or was this because you weren't very hydrated right now? You didn't know.

"S-stay please." Your voice was barely a whisper and sounded raspy due to the lack of water. But it was audible enough for Deidara to hear. Was he dreaming right now? He couldn't recall a time where you had ever hugged him or touched him in any sort of way before. Those last few weeks all you had ever done was screaming, crying and begging him to let you go.

But here you were now, clinging onto him like he was the oxygen you needed to breathe, burrying your face in his chest and whimpering for him to stay. He knew that he should have taken care of your raw wrists in that moment, he knew that this wasn't the right moment. But he really couldn't help the large grin which suddenly appeared on his face. He knew it! He knew that with a bit time you would start accepting the fact that you and him were just meant to be! How could he say no to your wishes when you obviously needed him so much right now?

"It's fine (y/n). I'm here. I won't go anywhere." You slightly lifted your head, being met with his absolutely adoring gaze and this lunatic grin on his face. If he would have given you that look one week ago, you were sure that you would have pushed him away and yelled at him. But now you didn't. No, you were even glad that he was giving you that look. It somehow soothed you to see just how infatuated he really was with you.

"Please never leave me again alone like this. I-I was terrified that you might not come back or get killed." Your grip tightened slightly, your shivering only increasing when thinking back to the darkness and the nerve-wracking uncertainty about whaz would happen. It made you feel like throwing up.

His smile only seemed to widen when hearing this, it looked like his face might actually hurt. H-how cute! You had been worried about him! "I'm really sorry for making you worry that much. I really didn't intend to do so. My man Sasori kept me a bit more busy than intended. The next time I'll hurry up." His tone had transformed to sickening sweet, obviously hoping that he would calm you down by holding you in his arms and cooing at you with this adoring gaze of his. And it did help you to relax a lot, but it still didn't seem enough.

You shook your head in a stubborn way, looking at him with red and puffy eyes. "No! I don't want to wait for you in here for hours without knowing what might happen to you in the moment. Can't you just take me with you?" For a short moment Deidara's expression seemed to waver with uncertainty, not really happy to even think about this. Missions were often very dangerous and it happened more than once that he had to bombard the whole landscape to get something down. He didn't want to bring your life into danger. "I'm not so sure..."

"Please. Don't leave me alone anymore in here. I hate it. It's cold and silent and dark. I am aware that you often go on dangerous missions. B-but you can protect me, can't you? I don't have to worry as long as I'm with you, right?" This managed to make a blush climb up Deidara's face when hearing your words, the trust you put into him. He almost felt his chest swelling with pride when hearing that you were that confident in him keeping you safe. And weren't you right? He had promised after all to keep you safe. "I'll think about it, alright?"

The answer didn't seem to satisfy you completely, judging from the way you were tugging hos cloak. "Deidara..." Your voice vibrated slightly against his chest, a small and pleading whine. And this small word, his name, caused the blonde to freeze for a short moment. He just kind of stared at you in awe. That was before he finally progressed the noise you had just made, whining so cutely his name which deepened his already slightly pink cheeks even more. How could someone be so unbelievably endearing?

"Say that again!" You stirred confused up a bit, looking him in his face. You felt yourself slightly flinching when you saw his expression. He looked a bit...weird. The crazed expression on his face seemed to have become only more unhinged-looking thanks to the blush on his face. When noticing your gaze on his, he suddenly leaned closer, making sure to ensure that you wouldn't flee by holding you with his grip in your place until his forehead was pressed against yours. "Say my name again like this."