#i love my blue fem hawke

[superblysubpar]

return to main menu // Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛

Sincerely, Yours:

bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | my blog and this fic are 18+ Only, NSFW

the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds

words: about 6,600

warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay | mentions of masturbating for comfort/ease before sex | SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done / oral / fingering / steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)

He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 

“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 

In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 

“Want me to pause it?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”

“I’d love one, thanks!”

Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.

Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 

Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 

He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 

Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 

Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 

His best friend was really fucking pretty. 

He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 

Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.

“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.

Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 

He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”

They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 

Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 

“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra��under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”

He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.

You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.

Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”

He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 

“No.”

Did you just say that out loud?!

Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 

Looks like you did.

“Ste-”

“What? What do you mean no?”

Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 

As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”

Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.

“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”

Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”

Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 

A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”

The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.

“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”

It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 

“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”

Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 

“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”

He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”

“No, please, I didn’t mean-”

His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 

Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.

“Can you please-”

“I’ll grab my keys.”

He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 

The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 

You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 

The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 

When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 

He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 

Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 

Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 

Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”

“Just take me home, please?”

The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 

So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?

He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 

It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”

His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 

“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 

“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 

“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”

The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 

Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”

Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”

Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.

“And fries. Definitely.”

“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”

“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”

Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 

“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”

He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 

You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”

He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”

“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 

Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”

“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 

But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-

“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 

He definitely said it out loud that time. 

You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  

“Ste-”

“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”

“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 

“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 

Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 

“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 

“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”

“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”

You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”

Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-

“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”

He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 

“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”

Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”

He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 

But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 

“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 

And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.

“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”

To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 

The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 

Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 

But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 

“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

Tried being the definitive word. 

“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”

You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”

It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 

It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 

His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”

Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”

Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”

He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”

A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 

Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 

All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 

Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 

If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 

And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.

In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.

You didn’t mind. 

Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 

He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”

“No,” you lied. 

He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”

You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 

“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”

Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…

You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 

Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 

Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”

“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 

And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?

Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 

His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”

“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 

He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”

And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 

His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 

When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Brian,” said without hesitation. 

Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”

You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”

Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”

It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 

“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.

“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”

This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?

But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.

He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  

You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 

Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.

The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 

His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”

“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”

“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”

You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 

“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 

Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 

Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 

You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 

“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 

Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 

Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 

You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”

He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 

He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 

And that was before you whimpered, before you said:

“Steve, please.”

“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”

His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 

Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 

He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”

You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 

Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”

There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 

Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”

You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 

He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 

And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 

*if you liked this fic, the minor follow up is: Risky Business

[lyeofhell]

Short n’ Sweet 🌤️ fem!reader x John Price

╰┈ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ thinking about torturing (teasing) John with some Sabrina Carpenter, MDNI/18+ only, breeding kink lol

mmmmm I’m thinkin about your handsome handyman returning home from deployment in late summer, immediately throwing himself into every home project and ticking off all the boxes on your honey-do list. and while you spend the day cleaning inside, blasting music and dancing about your house - John busies himself with an oil change to your car.

thinkin about twirling your hips as you fold laundry, the carpeted floor buzzing beneath your feet from the thumping bass and you are getting into it, flipping your hair as you unapologetically and very loudly sing about espresso.

thinkin about how you’re too distracted by the music to hear the slam of a car hood, or the familiar steps of heavy boots, or the opening of your front door.

thinkin about John leaning against the doorway, thick arms crossed with a satisfied and eye-crinkling grin as he admires your oblivious form. and it’s not till you hit em with a couple body rolls on the beat that you turn around, damn near jumping out of your skin and whipping him with a kitchen towel when his presence scares you half to death.

John just laughs, reaches out to you in apology and when he finds purchase on your plush hips he mutters something low against your temple like, “don’t stop on my account.”

and part of you wants to push him away but it’s so hard, it’s so hard when he’s like this - his sunkissed, burly chest on full display, sheened with dampened curls while his sweat-drenched shirt is likely discarded somewhere on your front lawn. you run your hands up his pecs to grip the back of his neck and god he smells, he smells like oil and sweat and hard work and John and it’s stupid how intoxicating it is. and he just grips you harder, pulls you close till you feel his belt buckle against your abdomen and you're finding it harder to ignore how low his jeans are hanging on his hips.

thinkin about how he starts to kiss you, dipping his head down to start off soft and slow but he grows hungrier by the second, and that’s when one of his hands comes up to grip the back of your neck, maneuvering your head so you can take his tongue as far as he wants. but before he can get you lying on the sofa, you perk up at the sound of Bed Chem, giggling as you try to get out of his firm hold. you beg and you plead, telling him “I love this song!” and “dance with me!” - and he just shakes his head and smiles, loosening his grip to give his pretty girl a twirl.

thinkin about dancing around him, grinding on his side and poking his nose at

“Who’s the cute guy with the wide, blue eyes and the big bad mm? Like”

until he's pulling your back to his chest, pressing and grinding his crotch against your ass and sweetly kissing your fingers. you make a move to grab his hands, placing your own on top and running them over your chest and down your body when you sing

“How you talk so sweet when you’re doin bad things, that’s Bed Chem”

and when his head dips back down to mouth at your neck you almost let him get what he wants, until you hear that familiar acoustic strumming, and knowing John? oh, you’re already giggling to yourself as you work your way out of his grip again.

thinkin about torturing the absolute hell out of him. twisting in his embrace to innocently interlock your fingers and sway from side to side, occasionally leaning up on your tippy toes to kiss his nose. despite your constant singing he doesn't seem to be paying all that much attention to the lyrics, until...

"One of me is cute, but two though? Give it to me, baby"

a look of neutral shock stills his face and you cannot help but laugh. in his startled state you take advantage of him, letting go of his hands to skip around the room and dance like you've had one too many. at some point he starts grinning from ear to ear, watching you like a hawk and slowly stalking your way as you arch your back and shake your ass, or drop to your knees and crawl on the ground...and it's not till you look him dead in the eye and dramatically sing

"Adore me, hold me and explore me, mark your territory, tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one"

that he jumps over the couch to snatch you up; you scream in delight, jumping to your feet and running around the coffee table to avoid his hands and your voice shakes with laughter as you try to get the rest out

"Adore me, hold me and explore me, I'm so fuckin' horny, tell m—"

"Had enough of this," John growls through his amusement and bounds through the living room, boots echoing right behind you until his fingers grip your waist roughly and you squeal, happily squirming and giggling in his sweaty grip.

John is panting as he chuckles, and like an animal he takes you down to the floor with a growl - maneuvering you under him and he’s just got you caged there, his thick, healthy form the only thing in your line of sight. beneath the weight of his body you writhe, and as he grabs both of your roaming wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head, his other hand slinks downwards, down down past your tits and your waist and smooths over the sweet, soft pudge of your tummy. his lips press to the corner of your open mouth and he keeps going further, rough fingertips slithering underneath your waistband and that’s when his voice is low - that familiar gravel giving rise to goosebumps on your skin while his breath warms your lips.

“Oh I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

[aliidarling]

i need to purge my urges, shame shame shame pt. 2

RICK GRIMES x fem!reader

part. 1

dark / nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: rick has been slowly trapping you with him, but someone comes up which ends in him having to remind you who u belong to

warnings: nsfw, p in v, fingering, noncon, manipulating, gaslighting, toxic rick, creampie, baby trapping, rough sex

i took inspo from an anon who requested baby-trapping :3

dark content below !!

You thought after a few days or weeks of being a B at the CRM would fill the void in your heart, the need to go back home and reunite with your friends and family. You could only imagine their smiles and faces, as now you had no way of contacting them. Rick was watching you like a hawk, eyes always on you even when he wasn’t in the room.

The sound of Judith’s laughter echoed in your head as you sat in your new apartment, his. He had just recently asked you to move into his commander suite, which you really couldn’t say no to, who would? The chance to be closer to your husband? You would be crazy to reject such an offer.

Every day of the last week had gone the same. You’d wake up in his arms, make love, eat breakfast, and split ways, Rick off to command and you on your way to stab walkers at the gate for hours in the heat. The thick uniforms were annoying but you were starting to get used to it.

What didn’t sit right with you was how *casual* Rick was with this whole thing. You had made the mistake of trying to reason with him a few weeks ago, which now was a reminder in your head not to anger him.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” He says angrily, glaring at you. He was livid, frustrated, and mostly offended. He had been so gentle and kind with you, and you go off and try and run away.

“I was trying— I was, I just got lost, Rick.” You plead quickly, your words a mess as you look up at him pleadingly. Your lips tremble as you see his fists clench and his nose flare. He was pissed off.

“You’re trying to leave me, aren’t you?” He scoffs, turning away to shake his head in disbelief. “Un-fucking-believable.” He sighs to himself. You shrivel up, tears pricking at your eyes. You didn’t want him to be angry at you, why was he angry? You loved him.

“I swear, I swear I’m not. I won’t try to leave, Rick.” You step forward and pull him into a hug, burying your face into his chest as you whimper. He lets out a dramatic groan, rolling his eyes and reluctantly wrapping his arms around you.

“You can’t keep doing this, sweetheart. You know I care about you. How am I supposed to take care of you when you’re not with me, hmm? You’re so small, someone else could just,” He initiates a pew pew sound, making you flinch and curl up further into him. He holds back a mean snicker.

“Say, why don’t you start staying with me? I’ll keep you safe. You’ll wake up in my arms every day and I can stuff that needy pussy whenever you want.” He coos lovingly into your ear, gently picking you up.

The rest was history. Shortly after, you moved in with him, and now you woke up every morning in his arms and fell asleep in them. He would manage to sneak into some of your shifts as the Commander to keep watch, but you could feel his eyes burning through your uniform, you knew you were the only reason why he was there.

But today, something felt off. You were talking with one of the friends you had made in the past month, Micheal. He was one of the B’s as well, you saw him from 8 am to 6 pm every day and during meal breaks. He was sweet, fluffy hair with a killer smile and dimples to die for.

“Did you know one of the a B’s broke into the cafeteria last night and stole a bunch of food? The commanders were all talking about it this morning, they’re pissed.” He innocently gossips. He smiles at you, turning to face you slightly as he stabs a walker right in the face.

You remember Rick slightly talking about it earlier. You give Micheal a nod, politely smiling back at him.

“I dunno who did it, but I hope they got enough for me. I’m starving.” You joke softly. He chuckles and nods, his hands at work but his eyes on you.

As the two of you continue talking happily, relieved at the small distraction from the labor you were forced to do, you feel a pair of eyes burn onto your back. Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly knew who it was. You could recognize that grumpy aura from anywhere.

Peering behind you, you made quick eye contact with a tall commander. Even with the mask on, you knew it was him, you could tell. He was staring right at you, arms crossed and body language annoyed.

You shrink slightly and glanced back at Micheal, taking a small step back. You cough to yourself.

“Sorry, I’ve been kinda sick recently so.. We should keep some space, don’t wanna get you sick, do I?” You laugh softly.

He blinks in surprise before nodding quickly, a small blush coming over his cheek as he realizes his close he was to you. It was cute how giddy he was when it came to you, it was obvious the boy had a crush.

“Of course! What do you have? A cold? Fever? Do you want me to bring something over later? I have some medicine at my place.”

It was as if Rick had heard those words because next thing you know you’re getting shoved back into a hard chest.

“Consignee, you’re being called.” A rough voice says. You look up behind you to see the tall commander you already knew who was gazing down at you coldly. He diverts his attention to Micheal, and his gaze goes angry. You can see the dents between his brows that he has when he gets angry.

“Yes, commander.” You salute, glancing at Micheal and giving him a weak smile before walking off.

Rick stands there for a moment, glaring at Micheal, before following you.

Once you’re inside the building and in a private hall, he doesn’t waste a second and shoves you against a wall, his mask already off and his face all up in yours.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Flirting with others in front of my face like I’m some fuckin’ idiot.” He snapped. His rough hands go to hold your shoulders flush to the wall, his eyes narrowed with a glint of menace in them. He was angry, pissed off, and confused.

Why would you go and flirt with someone else when you have him? He was the perfect husband— talk, handsome, sweet personality, and amazing bed skills, something he was sure Micheal didn’t have. Stupid Micheal probably didn’t even know how to be a real man. Rick was a real man.

“What are you talking about?” You gasp. “I wasn’t flirting with him— what?! Me and him are just friends!” You counter immediately, getting defensive and offended.

“Like hell you are,” He scoffs, pushing you closer. His eyes gaze down at you coldly, narrowed and furious. He stares at you before pressing his nose against you, his hot breath on your face. You shiver and try to lean back but the wall has you trapped.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill him right there, would have painted the gates with his blood. Would you of liked that?” He sneers. You go still momentarily, thinking over his harsh threat, your heartbeat racing.

“No, no Rick. You don’t need to do all that— I won’t talk to him.” You say quickly, reaching to gently cup his face with your shaky palms. You gulp nervously and attempt to soothe him, rubbing gently and pressing a little peck to his lips. He growls against your lips, pulling you back in when you attempt to part. He doesn’t want to be away from you right now, he wants all of you and your loyalty entirely.

It had been a few days since then. Everything was supposedly fine, you guessed. Rick was still watching you like a hawk. You could feel the glare on your back whenever Micheal goes anywhere near you, so you make sure to come up with excuses to leave the young man alone for the sake of his safety.

You didn’t want anything to happen to him. You knew Rick. You used to, that is. You had no idea why he had changed so much, but you couldn’t just leave him. No— You loved him. You wouldn’t leave. Maybe you could help him go back to his old self, maybe he was just damaged.

Yeah. That’s it. He needs you. You have to help him. Aid him in returning to his old self so you can have *your* Rick back.

You were out by the lake when you heard leaves crunching next to you. You turned to face the disturbance, your heart skipping a beat when you thought it was Rick— but the sight of the blonde boy had you relaxing for some reason.

“Micheal.” You greet with a polite smile, shuffling on the bench to make room for him. He smiles back at you and sits down, a few inches between your thighs.

“You alright? I’ve uh, noticed you’ve been a little distant recently.” He frowned, leaning back on the bench and gazing at the beautiful lake in front of the two of you. It was fall, the leaves were falling and the sidewalk was covered in a variety of red, orange, and yellow.

Your smile twitched as you picked at your hair.

“It’s nothing, just haven’t been feeling well. I think I caught a cold.” You chuckle softly, facing him slightly. You put your arm on the back of the bench, leaning on your palm. You gazed at him closely.

Knowing Rick wasn’t here, you felt oddly comfortable. You weren’t scared of accidentally angering him by being friendly with Micheal like you could breathe clearly for once.

He gives you a concerned look, brows furrowing innocently.

“Oh, that’s not good. How do you feel today?”

A small sigh left you as you squirmed in your position, not sure what to say. Pressing your lips together for a moment, you pondered.

“…Peachy.”

A small giggle left the both of you as you sat and conversed freely, no commanders breathing down your neck or glaring daggers.

You should have known that the peace never lasted long when it came to being married to a ticking time bomb. The second you entered your apartment, the air was tense and you could tell by the way Rick was looking at you that you did something wrong.

“What’s wrong?” You said immediately, rushing forward to him. You gently place your hands on his forearms, frowning up at him innocently. What did you do? Why is he angry?

He grunts lowly and grabs you by your shoulders, pushing you back until your back is against the wall. You failed to speak as your throat went dry, your heart stopping for a good second.

“Rick—“ Your voice cracked, a yelp leaving you as his fist landed on the wall just inches from your face.

“Shut the hell up, you ungrateful little,” He inhales deeply before he says something he knows he’ll regret. One hand next to you clenched in a fist, the other rubbing his jaw in a stressed manner, he finally looks down at you with a harsh glare.

“Do you even love me?” He chokes out, blinking. His voice was scratchy, the southern accent from years ago a subtle hint now.

You blink in surprise, lips parting as you stand there confused and fearful.

“W-What? Of course, I do! You're my husband, I searched for you for years,” You were once again interrupted by him as he raised his voice at you, making you flinch and cower in his presence.

“The hell were you doin’ with Micheal, huh?! That skimpy little boy— Out there by the lake, talking like you’re two little love birds, who the hell do you think you are?!” He snaps.

His hands come up to your face aggressively, making you flinch as you think he’s gonna hit you. He instead cups your cheeks and leans down so he’s breathing down your cheeks.

“You thought I was gon’ hit you? Is that how low you think of me? What the hell?” His raised voice has you practically trembling in fear, legs wobbly and bottom lip quivering pathetically.

“N-No Rick, you know I don’t think of you like that. You’re scaring me, please.” You whimpered out, attempting to squirm out of his hold. He tightens his grasp on you, pressing his body against yours.

“You shut that pretty mouth of yours, baby, before I do something you really won’t like. I’ll give you a reason to cry, got that? Huh?” He shakes you, making your eyes burn with humiliation and tears.

“Y-Yes.” You nod, your hands shakily reaching for him as you weakly attempt to push his hands off your face. In response, he slightly slaps your cheek as a warning, a pressurized pat.

You blink hard, trying to hold back the tears. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He stares you down, thinking silently in his head. He was quiet, and his silence was more threatening than his words for some reason. He was unrecognizable when it came to reading him. He used to be easy to calm down, but not anymore.

“Y’know, I never got to see you with a baby bump. Saw you raise Carl with me, but never saw you pregnant. Never.” He mumbles. His eyes narrow as he looks you up and down. His words send goosebumps down your spine, the dark reasoning behind them known to you. You attempt to push him off more firmly now, sniffling.

“Don’t do this,” You choke out. He ignores your pleas and grabs you, manhandling you into his bed and pressing you down. His body was big and muscular, he had grown a lot. Small pleas leave your throat as you squirm and thrash, but it’s all useless to him.

“Shhhh, I’m not gonna hurt ya’, is it so bad I wanna see my wife pregnant? You’d look so cute, belly full of my babies.” He whispers, smiling down at your form. He pushes his hands under your shirt and pulls it up over your head. It gets stuck on your head because of your thrashing, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

He slaps your thigh once he has the shirt off you, scowling down at you.

“Behave, or I swear to god.” He hisses. He watches as you start to let tears stream down your cheeks, and he holds back the smile as he reaches down and gently kisses them away.

“Don’t cry baby, you’re gonna be the prettiest mama I know.” He mumbles as he starts to kiss up your belly, pampering you with affection that only makes you feel worse. Every kiss has you sniffling and hiccuping under him, your body trembling.

“Can’t run from me when you’re pregnant with my child, right?” He chuckles darkly, large hands cupping your belly. He squeezes it gently and smiles at your reaction.

He pulls you in for a kiss, hands tugging down your pants and panties, not wasting any time. He was impatient, he’d admit it. He didn’t want another second to go where you weren’t stuffed full of his seed.

Spreading your thighs was hard with the way you were squeezing them shut. He rolls his eyes at your fight but easily holds them apart, the other hand going down to your pussy.

He clicks his tongue as he feels how barely wet you are. “Whatever, it’ll do.” With that, he shoves his fingers into your mouth. He glares at you, waiting for your saliva to coat his fingers before he pulls out and shoves them knuckle-deep into your cunt.

“A-Augh!” You gasp at the sudden burn in your lower region, your body tensing and eyes fluttering. Even with your salvia around the fingers currently thrusting deeper into you, it still hurt like a bitch to be stretched open so suddenly. Rick’s fingers were thick.

“Shhh, take it, c'mon.” He mutters, eyes narrowed as his fingers keep sliding in and out roughly, not giving you a chance to breathe as he makes scissoring motions.

Your moans are forced out of your throat. Even with how hard you were trying to hold them back, Rick knew exactly how to make you feel good, knew which spots make your toes curl and which ones made you cum the hardest.

He ignores your shaky cries and how you begged him to stop, his fingers only going harder. You curl up at the feeling, gasping. You were already feeling close to cumming to your embarrassment.

“So close already?” He snickers meanly, pulling out swiftly and rushing to unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans. He was in a hurry, a hurry to get balls-deep in you and fuck you until you’re leaking cum. “Poor baby.” He tsk’s at your whimper.

“No, don’t— Rick,” You beg desperately as he pulls out his hard cock and positions himself on top of you, tip against your opening and his hands holding you down. You feel more tears coming as your legs are forced open and your thighs are pressed against your chest, knees almost touching your chin.

You sob under him as he slowly thrusts inside, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. Even with how he stretched you open, it still felt like he was ripping you open whenever he slid himself into you.

He presses his chest down onto your thighs, legs over his shoulders, and his hands grab yours to hold them above your head. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, trembling in a mix of fear, pain, and arousal. You didn’t k is what to do.

“Please—“

“Shut up, shhh.” He starts to thrust, and you immediately start to moan at how deep his cock hit inside you. Gasping for air as you choked on your tears, his grunt grew louder as he picked up a smooth pace.

“Gonna stuff this pussy full of my babies, you’re gonna be so pretty pregnant, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.” He soothes you, thrusting harder into your wailing hole.

Even with how good it felt to have him thrust into your body, his body pressing against yours with his lips pressing gentle kisses all over you, you couldn’t focus on any of it. All you could think of was how much he had changed. The Rick you knew would never do this to you.

Your body was being pleasured, but your heart was being stabbed over and over again, aching and throbbing painfully. You just wanted this all to stop and for him to hold you close and comfort you. Was that too much to ask for?

He groans and reaches down to get as close to you as possible, saying, "Fuck, fuck." He intended for you to feel every single inch of him, the depth of him being there in your tiny little pussy, and every feeling he gave you.

“Ya’ feel that? Yeah? Can you feel how deep I am in that pussy of yours? I can feel you gripping me, my love; must feel so good, doesn't it?” Your cries are muffled as he successfully presses his cock further, his fat head grazing your tender region and making you clench up.

“Gonna cum inside you and force you to take every drop, knock you up, and then you can’t leave me. You’re not going anywhere, all mine sweetheart.” He rambles into your ear as his thrusts continue, your eyes rolling back at the force and pace. You sobbed under him for mercy but he didn’t listen, instead tightening his grip on your wrists.

“Fuckkkk, feels so good,— Take every bit of it, kay? Gon’ make you cry so much harder if you don’t,” He groans. He buries himself as deep inside you as he can, hugging you tightly to his chest as he releases his thick load in your walls. It takes him a moment to part from you, sweating and panting. You had him whimpering on top of you, still holding you down. He starts to sloppily thrust again, making you flinch at the feeling.

“No, please stop! I can’t take anymore, please!” You plea, whining shakily as he rams into your sensitive hole over and over again. You already had his cum dripping out of you, the squelching sounds making you blush in embarrassment as he kept going. He invokes your words and continues his torturous pace.

“We’re gonna be here for a while, sweetheart.” He chuckles darkly. With a raspy groan, he grasps your waist, letting your wrists go finally and holding your waist as leverage to batter your insides easier.

“If you think I’m goin’ to sleep tonight without a shit load of cum inside you, then you’re stupider than I thought.”

Yeah, you were definitely getting pregnant after this.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

BABY GIRL

Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary - Jackson likes to keep you doped up for both of your safety.

Warnings - Non-con, dub-con, drugging, manipulation, degrading, p in v, edging.

Word count - 1.9k+

Notes - Guess who wanted to work on one of her WIP's but decided to watch Red Eye and just had to write another one about my favourite boy.

You laid on the bed, completely naked against his body, he only wore his boxers, your left leg draped over his hips, his hand slowly caressing your back as your face was pressed up against his lean bare chest. 

The audio of the television was muffled, your sight blurred as you slowly breathed in and out. The sheets were hardly covering your flesh, but you were too dazed to pay attention to it. The sensation of his large fingers caressing your tender skin was enough to earn gentle moans from your soft lips. His cold blue eyes watched you like a hawk. Almost skeptical that you would commence a ploy against him, despite your doped state. 

Jackson Rippner was fascinated by you. The moment he saw you, he knew that you would be his. It was unfortunate with the circumstances you met under. Star crossed lovers in his opinion, a bit of a spiced uniqueness to your relationship.  

You were assigned to investigate him for terrorism. Many times you were warned about your high levels of ambition, your eagerness put you in danger. But you were always too stubborn to listen to your superiors. 

“Jackson” you murmured against his chest, almost drooling. He sighed lightly, his hand rubbing circles around your lower back. 

“Yes baby?” He asked softly, there was silence for a brief moment. Jackson waited patiently for you to respond as you raised your heavy head. 

“Are you going to keep me drugged up forever” you slowly questioned, your eyes ached to stay open, your thoughts blurred with sweet nothings. 

There was this blank, emotionless stare from him. As he was questioning himself, he really did wonder what he’d do with you in the long run. The thought of him keeping you mindless for the rest of your days made the blood rush to his cock. Only being mentally capable to muse the thought of him touching, fucking, loving you. 

But then he also wanted to take you out for an expensive dinner, vacate at a ski resort, hold you from behind as you cook him a loving homemade meal. Jackson never considered himself a romantic, but different people create a better you. The idea of having a life as one together made his heart flutter. 

“No baby girl” he answered eventually. 

“When will you stop” you breathed out, a small smile on your lips, a thread of hope. There was a small grin on his lips as his hands gently rubbed your hips. 

“When I know you’ll be a good girl for me” Jackson mocked, pulling you completely over his hips to saddle him. 

“I am a good girl” you countered, your head felt heavy yet your thoughts light. 

“Because you’re drugged up” he laughed softly, his large hand caressing your cheek as your face fell limp on him. 

“Touché” you snorted and he patted your cheek a couple of times. Sluggestly, you lifted your head back up, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Please sir, I promise to be good” you assured, but your small smile was all so devilish. 

That title always got the blood flowing to his cock. You could already feel his size growing underneath you. 

“Really? You cross your heart, hope to die, type of promise?” Jackson razzed, flashing you a toothy grin as his fingers slowly moved closer to your core.

“Yes sir” you promised, batting your eyes towards him. 

“Oh baby girl, how can I be so sure?” He toyed, titling his head to you. 

The scratches on his face were faint. Whenever he sobered you up, you were quick to get in every shot you could at him. However, you were foolish not to carefully plan out your scheme to escape, or as you preferred to do, attempting to kill him. 

“Because I love you cock Jacky” you moaned, his fingers toying with your clit. 

Within a blink, Jackson had flipped you onto your back. Holding your throat down against the mattress and huffing, flaring his teeth at you. “What did I tell you?” He snarled, his thumb rubbing over your chin.  

“You hate being called Jacky” you choked out, but you were still grinning at him. 

“And I thought you wanted to be a good girl” he pouted to you. 

“I do” you almost sang, coughing at the restriction to your throat. 

“Fix your mistake then” Jackson ordered calmly. 

“Because I love your cock, sir” you choked out, emphasizing the correction. With the release of your throat, Jackson sighed. 

“That’s a good whore” Jacksont grinned at you, flexing his hips forward. You pouted to him. “My good whore” he corrected himself, dropping his lips onto your neck.

It was pointless, trying to deny the sensation Jackson always brought over your body. It was too much effort to try to hide the pleasure he always bathed you in. 

This is where you belonged, underneath him, figuratively and literally. 

In small circular motions, his tongue swished over your heated skin, his hands ran slowly up and down your torso, his fingers playfully scratching at your nerves, his stubble tickled you. Your arms gradually enveloped around his back, your fingernails scraping at his skin lightly. 

“I’ll always take care of you baby girl. You know that right?” Jackson asked as he pushed his boxers down enough to free his throbbing length. 

“Yes, Jackson” you breathed out, laying your head back carelessly. 

“Could have gotten you killed, interfering with my business, like a little fucking brat. But I saved you…” Jackson grinned as he lined himself up with your gushing entrance.  

“No Jackson” you shook your head, moaning out softly as he gently pushed himself inside of you. 

“Who are you lying to?” Jackson snorted as he rested himself completely inside of our canal.

“This isn’t living” you countered, your hands rising up to the back of his neck, your legs raising up to your hips in unison.

Jackson couldn’t help but to laugh as his hips snapped back and forward. His lower lip was stuck in between his teeth as he searched for the perfect pace and speed.

“For someone who is constantly high, you sure as hell are conscious” he remarked, his hands holding onto your sides.

“I was always smarter than you” you murmured, biting onto your lower lip. 

Jackson laughed gently as his teeth nipped at your earlobe. 

“Yet look at where you are now. Be my good girl, I want to spoil you rotten. Don’t you want those things?” He toyed, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bud. 

“Yes Jackson” you answered emotionlessly. 

Most of the time it was easier to give him what he wanted, your complete submission. You were always so weak, tired, feeling out of body. The effect his touch had on your body was the biggest punishment. If you weren’t always so high, you’d be heavily humiliated with how badly you craved him. The control he had over your body was frightening, he was your puppeteer, always pulling on your strings despite how desperately you tried to cut yourself free. 

“I want to give you the world” he professed as he found the perfect rhythm to fuck you to. 

“I want to kill you” you whined out, face twitching as the high stimulation took over full steam ahead.

“No you don’t, you could never do such a thing” he mumbled, his hands pinning yours above your head. 

“But I’ve tried” you groaned as he hit your cervix. 

“And that’s okay” he assured you, kissing you in a sloppy manner as if to comfort your distressed thoughts. “You’re learning to be my good girl, yeah?” Jackson asked, teasing your bundle of nerves as he kept your pleasure swimming by the edge. 

“Yes Jackson” you shamefully admitted, your eyes swelled with tears as his thrusts became more painful. 

His mouth fell open into a large smirk at the sight of you crying. It was one of his favorite looks of yours. Over mere seconds, your tears formed into a stream as you sobbed underneath him. The clarity of your predicament washed over you once more. 

“Yeah, you’re so fucking pathetic. Acting like a tough, stuck up bitch. But you’re nothing but a little whore for cock, my cock to be precise” he grunted, feeling your walls clench around his throbbing size.

The sounds of your troubled moans always felt like a melody to him. The mixture between your logical and sensual thoughts left you in shame. Jackson kissed you deeply, your mouth was wide open but you refused to kiss him back. The taste of your tears made him growl like a wolf.

“Fuck, your director would be so disappointed in you. Everyone thinks you’re fucking dead. So get the stupid thoughts of breaking free out of that little mind of yours” he sneered, his free hand holding your chin in place as you tried to turn your head to the side. 

“Stop talking Jackson” you whimpered, desperately trying to focus on the pleasure and not his taunting words. 

“No one is looking for you. I have no tails, nobody cares about me. Only you did, you felt it too from the beginning, just like I did, our connection” he grinned as his balls slapped against your entrance. 

“Shut up Jackson” you whined as you felt your climax build. 

But Jackson loved watching you cry. It was amusing to watch your emotional strength crash, it was pleasing to look at your humiliation. A wonderful reminder of how reliable you are on him. Jackson loved to pull your strings around, to keep you on your hands and knees as he yanked you across the dirt. 

“Bet you wanted me to steal you away from your useless life. Now your biggest stress is wondering how many times you’ll get to squeeze my cock each day” he moaned out, kissing your tears away. 

“Shut the fuck up Jackson!” You screamed out as loud as you could, your weak body thrashed under him but it quickly left you exhausted. 

“Someone’s getting sober” Jackson pointed out with a grin, holding you down effortlessly. “Might just keep you tied up instead, I like your screams” he winked to you. 

“Please stop, please, please” you begged repetitively as he continued to fuck you senselessly. 

“Then tell me what I want to hear” he sighed, his hand combing back his damp hair from the sweat that trailed down his forehead.

“N-no” you shook your head, you could feel him twitch rapidly inside of you.  

You knew exactly what he wanted you to say. It was the thing you hated doing most. He always wanted you to say it when you were so close to finishing. 

“Please” he toyed, playfully begging you as he kept your built orgasm dangling from the edge.  

“Come on baby girl, make me feel good” he grunted as he smacked your rear. 

There was another weak shake of your head so Jackson held his body still inside of you. Pathetically, just like he always described you as, you whined out at the pressure built in your core. All you wanted to do right now was come undone, feel something good in this torture. But Jackson stared at you sternly, menacingly. His hands pressed down on your hips as you tried to rock yourself around him. 

“I-I love you” you admitted, your cheeks beet red. 

Instead of fucking you senselessly like you assumed he would. Jackson pulled himself out and jerked himself over you. Quickly, his white ropes of semen sprayed over your sweaty stomach. You panted, looking at the mess he made on you as your distressed expression made him chuckle silently. 

“I love you too” he replied blankly. 

As you caught your weak breath, Jackson laid his body on top of yours, his fingers touched your sensitive core, gently teasing you. You moaned out, ready to do anything to free yourself of your painful climax. 

“But so, drugged or tied?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow to you.

[evermoresversion]

hii i want to request a jj imagine. so the reader knows that jj is in love with kie. she sees it the way jj looks at kie, always laughs at her jokes and obv hits on her. and when john b and sarah are an nassau jj tries to hook up with the reader cause he’s rlly sad abt kie and pope yk. but reader rejects him. she tells him that she won’t fuck with him until kie likes him back. even though she rlly liked him. before walking off she says “one day she’s gonna see you the way i see you. just give kie some time to find the right glasses“ (yk everybody says you see the world with pink glasses when you’re in love) reader and jj stay rlly good friends and come closer than ever and poguelandia. poguelandia was the dream of both of them. then instead of kie the reader gets taken to kitty hawk. when jj saves her he finally tells her how she feels and says “kiara found the right glasses too late. i’ve put on other glasses“ the reader is rlly confused until he asks if she till has the same one on. and she is still in love with jj. then kiss scene yk. i hope you liek my idea!

THE RIGHT GLASSES, JJ MAYBANK.

A/N I really let my imagination run wild with this req. I'm very sorry for the delay.

PAIRING JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Angsty at first, fluff at the end, suggestive content.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JJ'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

You could tell you had always been in love with JJ.

From the first time you saw him playing in a park in the cut with a rock and he hit himself on the head with it.

Yeah, you were completely in love with him.

But you weren't blind, you had always noticed the way he saw Kiara and laughed at her jokes or protected her.

Sometimes you wished you were her.

"Hey what's up?" John B asked, sitting next to you at the bonfire at the Chateau and you shook your head looking at the liquid left in your glass.

"It's nothing." You denied, trying to make light of it, showing your friend a smile but he didn't believe you because he saw the way you saw JJ. He always noticed it.

"All right, bug." He gave your shoulder a friendly shook and stood up to walk over to Sarah where JJ then took his place.

"Do you want me to take you home now?"

You nodded goodbye to everyone and then found yourself behind on JJ's motorcycle.

When you both arrived he helped you down and there was a tense silence between the two of you.

"Well, I'll see you later." You said goodbye and walked towards the entrance of the house.

"Yeah, bye." He uttered awkwardly and got back on his motorcycle, leaving.

The next few months passed quietly without any drama except for the gold. In addition to the disappearance of Sarah and John B.

During that period of time Pope started some kind of situationship with Kiara and JJ was clearly affected.

While they were doing their thing, JJ tried to get closer to you to find some kind of distraction until one night he even tried to kiss you.

"No." You sighed, turning your face away from his, prompting him to sigh in frustration.

Despite all this time, you still liked JJ but you weren't going to let him use you while Kiara decided whether to be with him or not.

"I'm not going to fuck you or whatever just to be your distraction. No, I'm not going to do that." You shook your head with a wry smile, staring at your feet and playing with your hands.

"Forgive me."

You looked into his blue eyes that shone under the moonlight and saw adoration reflected in his eyes but not love towards you.

"I don't have anything to forgive you for."

You stood up from the log where you were both sitting and dusted off your clothes. Before leaving you looked at him.

"Someday she's gonna see you the way I see you." You shrugged your shoulders. "Just give Kie some time to find the right glasses."

After that you both didn't mention anything about it again but little by little both became even closer.

You were even the one who saved him when he almost drowned.

In Pogueland there was not a second that you both did not pass by with each other. You fished together, gathered whatever food you could together, everything.

"This is like a dream come true" you uttered as you were both staring at the stars lying on the ground. "Except I miss showers."

You both laughed and you felt his hand reach for yours.

"Yes, it's a dream come true."

You turned your face to look at him and found that he was already looking at you, making you smile.

The days passed and passed and neither of you worried about whether or not you were going to leave that island.

Until they finally got you out of there and it was no secret to anyone that you and JJ didn't want to leave, but you had to.

"I just got back, and you're trying to send me away again?" you said in disbelief, looking at your parents who had informed you that they were sending you to boarding school.

"Sweetheart, it's for your own good, you can't keep doing this kind of thing." Your father started.

"Those friends of yours are a bad influence."

You laughed, in disbelief, and when you tried to leave your mother interrupted you.

"You're going to do what we say, we're your parents."

"Yeah, whatever."

Of course the first place you went was to JJ's now empty house since Luke had gone to where JJ had always wanted to escape.

"No, they can't send you away."

You sighed, pacing the porch of the house.

"I don't want to get away from y'all."

JJ stood up from where he was standing and gently grabbed your face.

"It's not going to happen, as long as I'm here I'm going to stop them from taking you."

You hugged him tightly and felt his strong arms wrap around you as well.

Weeks passed and there was no sign that your parents were still pursuing the idea of taking you to Kitty Hawk, as the boarding school was called, but you still remained cautious.

The guys already had a plan to go to Orinoco to look for El Dorado and escape to South America. After a meeting at the dock, everyone spread out to go pack their things.

"Hey, y/n."

You stopped and looked at him with a kind smile.

You could feel Kiara's gaze on both of you but neither of you paid much attention to her.

"I needed to tell you something but I'd better tell you on the plane."

You nodded and left a kiss on his cheek and then went home.

Big mistake.

There was a van outside your house with the Kitty Hawk logo on it. You immediately felt your heart race at the thought that they were there to take you.

But before you could even think about running away, your parents had already seen you.

You tried to run away but when you turned around you collided with someone.

"Don't worry, we don't want to hurt you."

"No, mom!"

Your parents approached where you were and your mother looked at you.

"It's for your own good."

"Stop saying that! This is not for my good!" You exclaimed, trying to get out of the man's grip but they were already taking you to the truck.

"Sorry."

You heard her say to the distance with a broken voice and all you knew afterwards was that they were already taking you away from there.

Back with the boys, JJ was starting to get desperate because everyone was there except you.

"Where is she?"

John B looked at JJ, knowing that he would surely know.

"Her parents threatened to take her to boarding school weeks ago."

JJ without thinking twice turned to John B.

"Give me Twinkie's keys, I'll go get her."

"JJ, no."

"Dude, his parents already hate me."

John B hesitated but sighed relenting and offered him the keys.

"Thanks JB, give me an hour." JJ mentioned, running over to where Twinkie was, climbing through the window.

"One hour JJ!" Sarah exclaimed.

When the blonde arrived the only thing he found was your mother being hugged by your father, and then he guessed what was happening.

When he arrived, your father took it upon himself to tell him to leave.

"She's not here."

"Where is she?" JJ was starting to get desperate.

"We sent her to a place to recover what you guys destroyed."

"You sent her to that boarding school, didn't you?"

He didn't need a response to know, he just got back into the Twinkie and left.

On the way, JJ demired a plan to get you out of there.

When he arrived, he talked to the director of the place and somehow let you know that he was there.

At night you couldn't close your eyes until you heard a male voice murmuring.

“Have you seen a girl with...?”

“JJ?”

His gaze immediately shot at you, causing your breathing to get stuck in your lungs and your heart beating with speed when you saw him there.

“Pretty girl.”

You immediately ran to his arms and he greeted you with a hug so strong that he made the air leave your body but you didn't care, much less when you felt his nose sunk in your neck.

You separated from him when all the other girls started cheering, reminding you where you were.

“Shut up!”

JJ murmured screaming being pulled by the arm for you.

When both managed to leave the place safe and sound, you finally stopped to process what had happened.

“You came for me.”

You murmured, looking at him with attention and vulnerability reflected in your gaze.

He just took you by the cheeks, giving them soft caresses.

“I wasn't going to leave without you.”

You put your hand on his and leaned slightly towards him, seeing if that was also what he wanted.

And you knew it when his nose grazed yours.

“I think Kiara has some feelings for you.”

Despite your words, you didn't separate an inch from him.

“She found the right glasses too late, I've put on others. I just hope that person also continues to have those glasses on.”

He looked at you in a way that made you understand that you were the one who was talking about and indirectly asked if you were still in love with him.

And just to confirm it, you finally joined your lips to his, kissing him with everything you had kept all that time.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.

[honeybuckin10]

Code Blue - a Hawks x fem!lawyer!reader One Shot

Summary: Pre-Meta Liberation Army Arc. A hero’s birthday party on a night off blurs the lines of professionalism between the Commission’s rising junior prosecutor and a certain winged hero when secrets are exchanged [wc 5.2k (I'm so sorry)].

Warnings (nsfw): swearing, drinking, workplace romance, mutual pining, angst and fluff, everyone’s a dummy, mature themes, smut-ish, heavy petting. Characters slightly aged up (mid-late 20’s).

a/n: first time writing for Hawks and/or MHA, would love feedback. please don't be a ghost reader!

Nights off for heroes were few and far between. So when they did happen, usually all Hawks wanted to do was catch up on much needed sleep. But it was Best Jeanist’s birthday, which was how he found himself begrudgingly ordering a round of drinks at the bar for the handful that had gathered to celebrate their friend and colleague.

For the sake of Best Jeanist, he did his best to hide the fact that he was in sensory overload. His feathers only amplified the already deafening bass of the live band, coupled with the loud conversations, and the clinking of dishes, glasses, and silverware.  

“Happy birthday! Sorry I’m late,” he heard the squeaky voice behind him. He turned around to see you giving the birthday boy a friendly hug before handing him a small gift bag with a card sticking out. You were a prosecutor for the Hero Public Safety Commission’s District Attorney's Office. Due to the nature of your work, you crossed paths frequently with heroes to gather evidence and build case files to justly put away villains.  

The first time Hawks met you, you bumped into him in line at the Public Records Department on the second floor of the courthouse. Literally. Your face was buried deep in a case file, the *click clack* of your heels echoing as they hit the linoleum floor. Not paying attention, you walked right into Hawks’ wings, causing you to drop the plethora of papers in your arms.

-

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention!” you said, not even realizing at first who exactly you had bumped into, though you did think it was odd that you had to spit out a feather.

The halls of the courthouse, like any government building, were unfriendly, bureaucratic and slow. Annoyed, he was going to tell you to watch it. The words began to form in his mouth, but fizzled when he turned around and saw you crouched down awkwardly trying to gather all your papers, your range of motion clearly limited by your stiff skirt suit and precariously balanced in your heels. At one point your hair was probably pulled back in a sleek bun, but more than a few strands were now falling out of place. He felt bad. So instead of telling you off, he knelt down to help you pick up whatever was left on the floor.

“It’s ok, these things can be hard to miss sometimes.”

Confused, you looked up to meet golden irises and a sly smirk. Your already rosy cheeks deepened from pink to red upon realizing who was in front of you.

“Oh my God. Mr. Hawks Sir. I’m so sorry.” You immediately got to your feet, straightening out your posture. Your eyes fell from his face to the very prominent crimson wings that hung majestically behind him. You grimaced. “Wow I guess I was really out of it.”

“No worries.” He handed you back the rest of the strewn files, your fingers just grazing. “So… come here often?”

He earned a small laugh from you, finally able to put you at ease somewhat even if only for a moment. “No… or yes? I’m not really sure yet. This is my first case.” A newbie lawyer, of course. You gave a strained smile, but the furrow in your brow gave your nerves away.

“Ah, welcome to hell. Prosecutor or public defender?”

“Prosecutor.” He smiled.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, then.”

“I hope so.” Ever the professional, he was sure you didn’t mean for it to come off as anything more than introductory pleasantries. But he couldn’t help the little beat his heart skipped that caused his wings to flutter slightly. He hoped you didn’t notice.

“NEXT!” The voice of the elderly woman at the front desk boomed, hoarse from years of yelling and cigarettes. Hawks took one more look at you as your eyes kept darting to your watch.

“Why don’t you go ahead of me?” he offered. He could have introduced you to Beyonce and he was sure he wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction. You looked like a little kid on Christmas morning, but you did your best to hide your eagerness.

“Are you sure Mr. Hawks?”

“I’m in no rush, I insist. And please, just Hawks.”

“You’re holding up the line, you have five seconds to decide before I’m kicking you both to the back,” the old lady deadpanned. You looked at each other, eyes wide, both biting back shit-eating grins.

“You heard her,” he said. He took a step back, bowing slightly with an arm extended to motion you through.

“Thank you,” you mouthed wordlessly to him as you slid past.

“Good luck.”

-

That was almost two years ago. Since then, you picked up more high-profile cases, including the arrest and sentencing of Stain and had begun to make a name for yourself as a rising junior prosecutor. Two years of various long and agonizing depositions, witness prep, thousands of boxes of files combed through, late night arraignments. Almost two years of brushing elbows in the trenches, and this was his first time seeing you outside of a work setting. But for your voice, he wasn’t sure if he would have recognized you.

Your hair, free from its ordinary confines, fell effortlessly down your shoulders and framed your face perfectly. Sure, occasionally he thought about what your body might look like out of a suit, but the reality was better than anything else his imagination could concoct. Had you always had curves there?

Hawks had always thought you were pretty. But being the Number Two Hero with a predominantly female fan base, he wasn’t necessarily phased by looks. What did phase him was that big brain of yours. You wouldn’t be good at your job if you weren’t insanely intelligent with a work ethic to boot. Hawks realized he had a crush on you after the first time he saw you try a case in person. It was a trial for one of the villains he had taken down and you enlisted him as a witness. Seeing you in court charm every single juror in your opening and closing statements, expertly cross-examining hostile witnesses, keeping your cool in the face of a disrespectful opposing counsel – that’s what got his heart going a mile a minute.

So now here you were in the wild, not in a suit, saying hello to everyone like the social butterfly you were. Your exposed skin was like the answer to a riddle he didn’t know he was trying to solve. He tried not to stare, staring was rude. Staring was also causing his wings to have a mind of their own, puffing up and fluttering away ever so slightly. He turned his back again to hide them, and took a sip of beer trying very much to go unnoticed.

“Um, excuse me ma’am. I’m going to need to see some license and registration for the absolute dump truck you got behind you,” said a devilish Mirko after tapping your shoulder. Your laughter rang out, cutting through the other noise in the bar. Hawks tried to pretend he didn’t hear it, though the corners of his mouth threatened to tug a smile out of him. She’s not wrong.

“Hawks, doesn’t y/n look good in this ‘fit?” He didn’t know how or when, but he was going to kill Mirko. He blamed it on her sixth bunny sense that she’d somehow sniffed out his feelings for you - though it was probably the fact that she noticed he stopped entertaining one-night stands months ago.

“Mirko, have you considered that y/n would like to have a night out without being harassed?” Even in the dim lights of the bar, he could tell your cheeks were flushed. And despite the nonchalant act he was trying to put on, he was sure his face was about the same.

“Hey, I was just giving a compliment,” the bunny said mischievously. She gave Hawks a wink as she backed away, but not before mouthing “If you don’t fuck her, I will.”

“Hi,” you said cheekily, blissfully unaware of the chaos around you.

“Hi Counselor,” he said, no longer able to contain his smile. He dipped down to give you a hug, hoping the way he inhaled your perfume went undetected. His senses were permeated with vanilla and cedarwood, followed by the smell of your floral shampoo. The warmth of your body spread across his chest, and he tried to memorize the way your soft hands felt so small resting on his shoulders. Reluctantly he pulled away.

“So how much catching up do I have to do?” you asked. Hawks swirled around the last of his beer.

“This is my second, but I can’t speak for the rest of my – uh - colleagues,” he said as he glanced at Mirko who was now forcing Best Jeanist to take a shot.

“Ah, I see,” you said slowly, following his line of sight.

“So what can I get you to drink?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You buying me a drink, Hawks?” He rolled his eyes as you elbowed him in his side wiggling your eyebrows.

“I needed a refill anyways and my tab’s already open. Don’t let it get to your head,” he teased back.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will.” The bartender placed two beers in front of you. You took a long sip, as you watched the hero swirl is drink. Something was off and you were going to get to the bottom of it.  

What Hawks was actually thinking as he stared at his beverage, was that he suddenly had no idea what to say or do with his hands.

“So are you going to spend the rest of the night cowering in the corner? Didn’t think you’d be the wet blanket of the bunch.” He nearly spat out his beer.

“I’m not a wet blanket,” he said defensively.

“Prove it.” You stuck out your hand. “Since you bought me a drink, I think I owe you a dance,” you said with a smirk. He looked at you thoughtfully.

“You owe me nothing except your friendship.”

“Oh we’re friends now? I thought we were colleagues,” poking fun at his earlier comment. He didn’t like the hole you were digging him into. He could flirt with a brick wall, yet for some reason the workplace flirtations that had escalated for two years between you two were not translating to the place where they would be most appropriate.

“I, uh, tend to get in the way. Better not.” He tilted his head towards his back where his wings hung lamely.

“Oh come on don’t be a party pooper,” you gave an encouraging smile. His eyes met yours only for moment, but looking at you was like looking directly into the sun. So he kept his eyes on your hand while he found himself uncharacteristically tongue tied. He took your extended palm, but didn’t budge when you tried pulling him off the barstool. He sensed your breath hitch as he held you in place. Your eyes traveled from your now interlocked hands to his face. “Hawks…?”

*beep* “We got a code red. I repeat, code red. Over.” *beep*

The noise came from your purse, pulling you both out of whatever trance you were in. He raised an eyebrow. Sure enough, you pulled out a walkie talkie and brought it to your mouth.

“Rescue effort deployed, over.” *beep*

His golden orbs finally met yours, your eyes swimming with sympathy.

“I’ve been summoned. I don’t know what’s going on here, but come find me when you’re done sulking, yeah?”

He released your hand and watched as you disappeared into the dance floor, but not before he saw you ward off an unwanted suitor leering over Mount Lady who was still gripping the sister walkie-talkie.

He settled back into the bar seat and chugged.  

“I thought you were fun at parties.” Best Jeanist saddled up beside him, dropping off his empty round. Hawks groaned.

“Not you too.”

“It’s my birthday, you’re obligated to be nice to me. Not that I thought it would be so difficult for you.”

“It’s my first night off in months man, I’m just a little tired.”

“We’re all tired, that’s no excuse.”

Hawks felt guilty, Best Jeanist was right. Embarrassment bubbled in his gut, though maybe that was just the beer.

“Relationships are like a new pair of high quality jeans –“

“Please stop.”

“At first, the fibers are stiff. They take a while to break in, may even feel uncomfortable at first. But after a few wears, the fabric relaxes and molds to the wearer. The perfect denim…”

“Are you done?”

“No. You knew she was going to be here tonight so what gives?”

Hawks ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

-

You and Hawks had been at it for hours. You let out a low groan.

“Can you grab that box for me? I can’t reach.”

Hawks couldn’t help himself. You looked so cute on your tip toes arms extended. The persona you exuded in court was bigger than life, but outside that you were quite ordinary. He liked that you weren’t so infallible that you were beyond the need for his assistance.

The boxes of evidence filled the office, floor to ceiling. You had gone through most of them, only one pile was left. Technically he didn’t have to be there, but he’d bumped into you in the halls of the HPSC long past most had left the building. You explained your plight that the other junior associate assigned to the case with you had bailed. It was for one of the villains he’d captured anyways, so he volunteered to help.

“Yeah, I got it Birdie.” He walked over to where you were, but you didn’t budge. Stubbornly you continued to wave your arms as though you’d be able to summon the box clearly out of reach through sheer will alone. It was, in a word, adorable. So he perched himself behind you, pressing against your backside to absolve you of your struggle. He was being mindful of space - was the story he told himself, which was a lie. It would also be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it.

You inhaled sharply and instinctively closed your eyes, his cologne infiltrating your nose. It’s not that you and Hawks hadn’t made physical contact before, it’s just that it was mostly in the form of professional or friendly touches. Like handshakes or pats on the back or nudging arms. There had only been a handful of other times where there was accidental increased contact, and each time felt like an out of body experience. This was no different. You tried not to push your ass into him as he reached above you, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. Meekly, you let your arms drop to your sides as a shiver rolled down your spine.

You only turned around when you heard him drop the box on the ground. You let your back land on the stack of boxes against the wall. You drank in his form, mere inches away from you. Jacket and gloves long discarded, you admired the veins in his forearms and the contours of his muscles that shown through his shirt. You knew he caught you staring, but you didn’t mind.

Hawks stared right back at you, silently enjoying the way the collar of your blouse, now partially unbuttoned and lopsided, showed off your clavicle. Your hair once perfectly coiffed now fell in a loose bun, strays falling around your face. Your half-lidded eyes beckoned him to close the tiny gap between you.

Maybe it was sleep deprivation that he forgot who you were (his coworker) or where he was (inside your office in the building of the HPSC). All sense of rationality went out the window the moment Hawks decided to take a step forward. Your eyes followed as he placed a hand next to your head, then trailed up the length of his arm back to his face, finally focusing on his lush lips that were suddenly very close. You held your breath as you patiently waited for impact that never came. His beeper went off, startling you both and cutting the moment short.

-

That was last night.

You were a lawyer. You followed rules. You enforced rules. Not that sleeping/dating a coworker was illegal, but it felt like you were doing something wrong. You weren’t each other’s superiors or subordinates, you weren’t in the same department, you checked the Commission’s bylaws and there was nothing else explicitly prohibiting romantic relations between employees. But you were still scared to disrupt the status quo.

You didn’t think much of it at first. You knew Hawks flirted with anything with a pulse. So you didn’t see the harm in giving him a taste of his own medicine every now and then. You weren’t sure when you started having actual feelings for him. It might have been a few months ago when you got to your office in the morning after a long night of work, only to find a coffee and a crimson feather on your desk. When had you told him your coffee order? All you knew was that the exchanges that once felt like an inside joke now seemed like cruel and unusual punishment, a reminder that you were nothing special and that this was just how he acted with everyone.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out on the dancefloor. Your feet were starting to hurt. Mirko had fed you two shots and you were now nursing the remaining ice from your second gin and tonic. With clear liquor and cloudy eyes, you felt your confidence draining as the night wore on, no sign of The Winged Hero in sight. Did you go too far? Did you horribly misread last night’s events? Was he avoiding you?

You felt a pair of hands grip your hips, pulling you out of your daydream and realizing you had no idea where everyone else was. Your hand flew to your purse to grab your walkie-talkie.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to code-red me.” Your eyes immediately lit up as you turned around, too much alcohol in your system to play coy.

“You came!” Your hands excitedly drummed his chest. Your grin was infectious. He leaned in to make himself heard over the speakers.  

“Of course I did. Just took a while to find you, you’re pretty short.” His hot breath tickled your ear.

“You think I’m pretty?” you drawled, a lazy smile plastered on your face. The initial panic in his eyes softened as he realized your mistake. He didn’t have the heart to correct you, nor were you were wrong.

“That’s not what I – yeah… you’re pretty.” You pressed yourself up into him on tip toes, cupping a hand around his ear.

“Can I tell you a secret?” His heartbeat quickened, his own sobriety lacking along with his social filter. He should have shut it down, but instead he said:

“Always.”

“I – “

“Hey, watch it with those things.” His wings, again having a mind of their own, had inadvertently fluttered a drink out of a nearby patron’s hands - and he wasn’t happy about it. He was about to apologize, but you beat him to the response.

“Clearly it was an accident, why don’t you watch it you bitch-ass – ” On one hand, he thought it was very sexy how you tried to defend him. On the other, you were simply not threatening no matter how hard you tried and the last thing Hawks wanted right now was to ruin what felt like the most important moment of his life with a bar fight.

“I am very sorry sir, it was an accident. Feel free to use my tab the rest of the night,” he said to the man as he picked you up by your midsection and carried you away before you could finish the sentence. Even as you retreated, you continued your death glare towards the stranger who was left very confused.

Hawks placed you down in a corner where his wings and your sharp tongue hopefully wouldn’t cause any further disruptions. He leaned his back against the wall just to be safe.

“So do you usually go around starting bar fights?” he said with a smug smile.

“Me?! He started it and I was defending your honor,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re welcome,” you said defiantly. To your dismay, the hero let out a hearty laugh. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, you were very scary,” he finally got out as his laughter slowed.  

“Don’t lie,” you pouted.

“It was really cute.” He was still laughing, but you were starting to sober up.

“I said don’t lie.” Your meek voice was barely audible in the still boisterous bar. His eyes softened at your hardened expression.

“I-I wasn’t.” He was suddenly very aware of your surroundings, which was next to the line starting to form by the bathrooms. Loud chit chatter and crying coming from the ladies’ room mixed with sound of someone audibly vomiting from the men’s room was not exactly how he pictured this going down. He took your hand and started walking again.

“Ugh, where are we going now? Our friends are still there,” you groaned. Friends. Why was that word so easy for you, yet rolled off his tongue like sand paper?

“We can go back inside in a minute, but I want to talk.” He’d led you out the backdoor of the bar. You looked around, clearly confused.

“Dude, what is happening?”

“I couldn’t hear you in there and we were next to the bathrooms.”

“So you dragged me out to an alleyway next to a literal dumpster. Got it.” He looked around just to check if you were correct, which unfortunately, you were.

You couldn’t be serious with each other if you tried. Snorts and stifled giggles filled the alley, overpowering the dull bass from inside.

“I guess I really know how to set the mood, huh.” He scratched the back of his head, admiring the scenery.

“I didn’t know there was a mood to be set.” Your tone was inquisitive, free of judgement. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

Hawks took a deep breath, trying to gather his growing nerves. But he was a coward who’d rather fly into a burning building than share his feelings so he deflected.

“You said you were going to tell me a secret in there. What was it?”

Your felt your cheeks immediately burn. The liquid courage you had before was wearing off so you volleyed back.

“You have to tell me a secret first,” you said defensively. Hawks rolled his eyes.

“I’ve already told you two secrets tonight, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Like wha- oh.” You brought a hand to your mouth to cover the audible gasp that left your lips. You wondered if Hawks was embarrassed. If he was, he hid it well under the guise of a knowing smirk. It was at that moment you noticed how his gilded eyes shone spectacularly under the dim glow of the nearby streetlamp. Perhaps the embarrassment, if any, was also pacified by how clearly flustered you were by the culmination of all that had transpired in the last 24 hours. You crossed your arms. “Well… I still need one more secret from you.”

“Wow, three for the price of one? Now you’re just overselling it.” He stopped teasing when he saw you pouting again. Not a playful pout, but the kind that made it look like you were about to break. He never thought of you as fragile before. He grabbed your hand, averting his gaze.

“You have to promise to keep it a secret, ok?” You nodded, squeezing his hand for reassurance.

“I promise.” He took a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to look you in the eyes again.

“Keigo.”

“What?”

“Keigo,” he said again. “Keigo Takami. That’s my real name.” Your eyes widened in horror realizing you’d made him compromise his own security. You frantically began scanning your surroundings for any unintentional witnesses. He grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“Oh my god, Hawks, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to –“

“Shhhh it’s ok there’s no one else around. You didn’t force me, I want you to know. Please, call me Keigo.” He watched the rise and fall of your chest, trying to monitor your labored breathing. Again, this was not going as planned. Not that he really had a plan to begin with. But even if he did, causing you to go into cardiac arrest surely was not on the list. Your breath finally started to slow.

“Keigo,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. You liked the way his name felt on your tongue, so you said it again. “Keigo.”

He tried to suppress a smile, watching how the corners of your lips tugged upwards. His hand, seemingly acting on its own, stroked your hair as he continued to sooth you.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” which was another way to say he’d never heard a more beautiful sound in his life than his real name falling from your lips.

He tried to lighten the mood, not wanting to cause you any more distress than he already had over the course of the night.

“Not to brag, but this better be one hell of a secret ‘cause–“

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. You grabbed him by the collar to bring his lips to yours in a messy, fervent kiss that took his breath away but was over in the blink of an eye before he could act or process.  

You pushed him away slightly as you caught your breath, looking just as surprised as he was about the whole ordeal.   

“I-I’m sorry I should’ve asked –“

He crashed into you as he held both sides of your face, afraid you may float away if that beautiful mind of yours started to overthink as it often did. The force knocked you into the building behind you, but you didn’t mind. Wandering hands traveled over each other’s bodies, both eager to explore foreign skin. Your tongues danced in unison as you body tingled under his erratic touch, grabbing your arms, back, hips, waist, hair, whatever he could hold onto unable to stay in one place for long.

You couldn’t stop your own hands from feeling the muscles you’d watched from afar for so long, enjoying the ripple of his abs, the sturdiness of his chest, finally landing around his neck. You pulled him impossibly closer, spiteful of the little space that still separated you. His wings protectively caged around you, shielding any prying eyes from your compromising position.

In an extraordinary display of restraint he kept a hand on your ribcage, his fingers delicately ghosting the band of your bra over your clothes, his intent clear but never crossing boundaries. You smiled into the kiss deciding to take advantage of the new privacy as you placed your hand over his to guide it to its true destination. He let out a groan that reverberated against your lips as he squeezed the soft flesh under him, still in disbelief that he should be so lucky to experience all that had only existed in his imagination. He swallowed the soft moan you let out when he grazed his thumb over your sensitive nipple that peaked through the fabric of your top. You rolled your hips forward desperate for friction, and he eagerly returned the favor. You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your pelvis, which you realized was the first time you’d come up for air since you locked lips.   

His mouth traveled down your neck until he found a sweet spot that made you squirm. Your hand also made its way south, but your path was halted by his calloused hand when you reached the waistband of his pants. Hawks might fuck you in an alleyway outside a bar, but Keigo wanted to build you the softest nest to lay you on because you deserved nothing less.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of you neck as his other hand drew little circles on the small of your back.

“Technically… that wasn’t a secret,” he whispered into your skin. Your chests rattled against one another as laughter escaped your lungs.

“You’re an ass,” you said through fits of giggles. He nipped a little more at your neck, encouraging you on. “If you’re going to make me say it… I wanted to kiss you. Tonight. And last night. And the day before that. And the week before that. And –“

He kissed you once more to cut you off, but this time it was sweet and soft. It made you feel calm and centered. So when he pulled away, you decided to share more.

“Can I tell you another secret?”

“If it’s anything like the first one, absolutely.” He brought your captured wrist to his mouth, leaving a trail of small kisses over your hand. Your heartbeat that finally started to slow picked right back up.

“I’ve never flown before.” You not-so-subtly glanced at his wings before looking back at him, eyebrow raised. He gave you a wicked grin.

“Yeah I can give you a ride little bird. Not to be presumptuous, but uh… your place or mine?” You pretended to think hard about the proposition.

“Hmm. I’d say appropriately-sumptuous, and… dealer’s choice.” Hawks had found his way to your neck again which made thinking straight quite difficult, but you persisted nonetheless. “Though… maybe we go back inside and table this for another hour. I feel bad leaving without saying goodbye.”

Hawks moved up the column of you neck until his breath was in your ear.

“I’m gonna go on a limb and say, I think it would make the birthday boy very happy if we didn’t.” Despite the blush that crept to your cheeks knowing you may be the subject of workplace gossip tomorrow, your core clenched in anticipation at his words. The hero could tell from your dazed expression that it was time to go. That was, at least, until the walkie-talkie in your purse went off again.

*beep* “Code blue, y/n where are you? Over.” *beep*

You could see his sails deflate when you pulled out the device, assuming once again that his plans were foiled. Not one to put up a fight, he moved towards the door to reunite with everyone. But you didn’t budge, squeezing his hand to hold him in place. He watched closely as your other hand brought the walkie-talkie to your mouth. The playful twinkle in your eyes told him all he needed to know.

“The eagle has landed in the nest. Over.” *beep*

[blueparadis]

╰┈➤ INSCAPE ✦ AYATO KAMISATO.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ After a year of marriage when your confrontation strikes the heart of lord kamisato, he dedices to play fair and by your rules. Certainly, if he does what you ask of him, you would not be angry at him would you now?

+

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader, wife!reader, husband!ayato kamisato, trophy wife treatment, terms of endearment, established relationship, marriage of convenience, angst and comfort, enemies to lovers dynamic, sorta hate sex ( but there is no sex. i mean there is but just a little ),drunk!reader, marking, temperature play ( wax play + ice play ), virginity k!nk, foreplay, aftercare >> implied piv sex; 2,2k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |

A month has passed since you stepped into the Kamisato estate yet Ayato rarely made time for his wife. Of course, like all other men, he used work as an excuse to avoid you like a plague. How could he not? When you confessed that your father had forced you into this marriage with tears in your eyes and rage in your heart yelling that if you could you would have rather die than be a man like him. It was a bolt from the blue to see someone with whom Ayato had decided to share half of him choose death over him. So, Ayato kept his distance; kept up the mirage of this marriage, and deserted you in your misery. It has been a month since the day you married him and nothing has changed since then.

As usual, after eight, Thoma accompanied his master to the study room. “Tomorrow I have to go somewhere. Thoma, please take care of the household for a day.” His butler listens and nods.

“When will you be back Lord Ayato?” Thoma asked hanging his master’s coat in the rack. “Will your lady accompany you?” Ayato pauses stacking files one upon the other on his hand to ponder and then answers.

“It is just work-related.” Thoma beams at that and leaves his master alone in his room. The part where Ayato stands is just the entrance, where the light is always on. He grabs another candle stand and walks up to his desk in the dark, lighting them up. And, when he turns around his eyes glimmered on you like grapes ripening before the arrival of the season. 

You turn around standing against the window admiring the moon in its glory with a goblet in your hand and a wine bottle kept on your husband’s table. It is empty. You look at your husband, part your lips, and bring the goblet near your soft lips speaking in a calm tone. “You do not seem surprised to see me here.” You take a sip and tilt your head. “Have you been thinking about me—like this: standing here, waiting for you, my love?” Ayato does not break his silence. He just watches like a hawk. He leans against his desk crossing his arms over his chest. 

You slowly walk up to him making sure you do not trip. The moment you move the world takes a quick spin, composing yourself you see your husband inches away from you. Finishing the last bit of wine you keep the glass on the desk. You keep your hands on the desk along his firm stature and lean into his face. “Or were you expecting someone else, my love?” You are clearly drunk and maybe so, because you wanted to confront him since never before have you been this rebellious. 

Ayato has always kept a distance from you, letting you live freely, working the way you want. While  attending parties and get-togethers, you were cautious not to let the curtain of perfect marriage slip and show the world its ugly, rotten side. At times like that, his heart warmed from your vicinity; mind and body at constant battle for you. Of course, what would you know what it is like to love someone, and get nothing in return? That kind of love eats you from the inside.

If you hated him openly he could give you an excuse, perhaps an affair or chronic drinking habit but you are perfect maintaining this marriage. But you suspected him of cheating on you was salt to his wound. It hurt his pride. 

Ayato grabs one of your hands, pushing it away and spinning you to stand behind you. Both of your hands are under his grip. His left hand being free finds its way over your breasts. He does not like them. There is a fair amount of distance between his left hand and your upper body. As he finishes tracing your body and ultimately keeping his gloved hand over your belly button he hoarsely whispered into your ears, “You tell me. For whom are you wearing this flimsy dress? 

He rests his chin over the nook of your shoulders. You release a soft breath. “Or is it because you have been lonely?” You rub your thighs together feeling the warmth of his breath behind your ears. “Did you ask help from Thoma?”

“What? How could you—I’d never— Ayato shuhses you swinging his body a little making you sway, as if calming a crying baby. Then he speaks sternly, “At least I have a name. Who are you accusing me of?” 

“Why are you breathing so hard, love?” He exclaims eye over your belly letting you know how much he can feel your restlessness. 

“Leave me Ayato. Leave my hand.” You murmur. There is still a fight in you despite being hurt. He rubs his nose against your shoulder line making you arch your head a bit. He is trying to remember what triggered you and that you were willing to wash all your pride and shame to come to him. You hear a pop sound and a little later feel the graze of his lips, the hot breaths. He understands now. He understands why, why are you here? Closing his mouth he presses his body against your back.

You turn your head to take a look at his face. Your eyes are burning, eyelids heavy and vision focuses and defocuses often. “Thoma— he will, will be here to serve your dinner.” You drawl, one word toppling over the other. The way you took his butler’s name sounded like you were moaning it. “Please. Please Ayato. Leave me.” You feel his hand that was over your tummy loving away and as you take a sigh of relief you turn your face from him. As you close your eyes to dull the incoming wave of pain, you feel his hands underneath your nightgown, nudging in between your thighs seeking permission.

“What?” Ayato drawls tightening his grip on your wrists at the valley of your waist. “Didn’t you say you hated me on our first night? Then, why are you so wet?” He elongated ‘so’ as he spoke into your ears causing goosebumps to light up your supple skin. Embarrassment and shame bloomed all over your body. Your mind denied him while your body was willing to accept him. Not to mention that you are so wet and just from this? Another lie came into the light. The fact that you told him that you were a virgin to keep him ravaging you away is such a brave and bold move. 

“Aren’t you full of surprises my love?” He pulls out his gloved hand making you whimper and extends it in front of you to show how much you are turned on. Your arousal stuck onto his gloved hands, drips along the base of his palm as he motions his ring and middle finger. “Not only that,” He scooted over to a side shamelessly staring at your breasts, “Your nipples. They are hard.” His lips moved closer to your ears. He whispers, “So hard.” Makes him wanna suck and bruise them.

The wine is doing its job perfectly. Your senses are lithe and loose. There is a tingling feeling all over your skin and wherever his touch graces, the feeling magnifies resonating in between your legs. The grip on your hands that are held at your back is still there, still so strong. You fidget with your hands a little and Ayato shifts his hand, inserting his fingers through the gaps of your of both hands locking them firmly. 

You turn your head, with lust coinciding with desperation in your eyes, and your lips dash onto yours. Ayato is surprised at first but when he notices that your eyes are closed, lips so dedicatedly working against his he returns the favor. You think his instincts are becoming dilute. You slip your tongue trying to dull his senses more so that you can break free from his hold but all you feel is the cold grab of his gloved hand on your breasts over the cloth. Your body curls instantly under his touch making you snatch your mouth away.

“C’mon, it is our one-month anniversary. Let’s celebrate.” He mutters reading into your thoughts and then, pulling his glove by holding it in between his teeth exposing his ivory white skin. When he inclines for a kiss you turn away your head. Your breaths become erratic, heavy, and irregular. He can help you with that but you are being so stubborn. There is a pregnant pause before he bends you over the desk, and towers above you to murmur into your ears. “Fine. Have it your way.”

Ayato stands spreading his legs further against your lower body making you immobile. Still, you manage to turn and face him. You notice him holding a candle in one hand. You could sense what was going on in his mind but before your body could follow the directions of your mind he grabbed your hands, locked them by slipping his fingers into yours and pinning them over your head. He lets a drop of wax fall onto your body. It is good that your robe is still on you. But it does not hurt much, there is a pleasure rapidly following the stinging pain making you greedy for another shot.

“That is no good. You are enjoying it.” He growls and pulls your robe down letting a train of wax fall on your skin. You try to scream, thinking about the amount of pain you will get but Ayato’s lips block you from doing so. Tears rolling from the corner of your eyes yet you do not want to let go of his lips. He is kissing so fervently, hungrily. You did not think your husband was capable of such passion.

Ayato breaks the kiss. The resistive forces in your body have died now. He does not even have to tell you to stay still. He bends the candle to let the wax fall on your skin again holding your garment above your boobs. “Now, my dear wife. Who are you trying to provoke by not wearing anything under? Is it me?” He drawls dramatically letting the wax fall in a trail over your boob writing the letters of his initials. You do not scream, neither protest but rather moan in pleasure. The pleasure is addictive, like the cool Breeze after a storm.

Keeping the candle in its place he pulls you up embracing. A certain while you feel the hot wax on your back again and you bite onto the column of his neck. The more he pours, the stronger your sucks and bites become. Once the candle reduces to half he stops and watching your body so bruised and red makes him mourn but the look on your face turns the table.

“Ayato. Ayato, please. I need you.” you start. Intoxication is still in effect numbing your senses. “I need you inside me, please, I miss you.” you moan and whimper in his arms. Ayato hears a knock. He knows it is Thoma. Must have heard your voices. Slipping his coat over you he takes you into his arms. 

“Lord Ayato—” he gasps, opening the door. Ayato adjusts you in his arms and you curl into his chest. 

He instructs, “Thoma. We are going to have dinner later.” and walks towards the washroom. Thoma asks if he should prepare a bath but Ayato just tells him he needs some ice.

Ayato places you beside the sink, on the slab. He starts undressing himself thinking how he will be inside you for the first time, fuck you witless. The way you are drunk so much, he thinks, you will barely resist or feel the pain, only the pleasure. 

Thoma kept a box of ice outside the door already, Ayato picks them up and he walks towards you naked, with ice in his hands, and rubs them over your back.  With such cold hands, he pulls apart your legs to make himself comfortable in between your legs. His cock is hard and awake. You touch his member, making him moan against your ear. He keeps rubbing your back with those ice cubes as you work up his cock to take him in.

“Eager. Aren’t we?” Ayato says against your ears as you place your hands around him. “You have no idea what you are asking for my wife.”

You buck your hips and push him to feel him inside you. The tip of his cock grazes your entrance. You murmur, “Oh, try me. I'm actually hard to impress.” and feel him push his cock all at once, feeling his base against your inner thighs. You scratch onto his back feeling the momentarily alive pain followed by a great wave of pleasure.

“I’m warning you. I’m going to hurt you if I fuck you.” Ayato rasps.

And you mutter over his lips in erratic breaths. “Oh— you mean — sharing the pain, — my dear husband?” 

“Ummm—hmmm” Ayato coos, kissing your lips. The night is going to be long and memorable.

[pricelessemotion]

love is kinda crazy (with a spooky little boy like you) | E.M.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: [2.4k] eddie takes you on that halloween date. it doesn’t go quite like you expected.

warnings: pure fluff, a little awkward date shenanigans, r is described as having frizzy hair and wearing prescription glasses, r also has an (unnamed) sister

a/n: ah! i’ve been dying to write and post a part two for this fic since halloween and i thought there was no better time to post it than now! happy valentine’s day 🖤

masterlist | part one

“There, perfect!” Your sister punctuates the end of her makeover with the snap of her powder compact and the flourish of a makeup brush. 

You turn slowly, the pink cushioned stool a little wobbly under your unsteady frame. Your reflection looks comical, all blurred edges and wavy lines. Without your glasses, the bedroom vanity has turned into a funhouse mirror. 

“What does it matter if I’m going on a date with him if I can barely see him?”

You don’t need glasses to know that she’s rolling her eyes. Even though you can’t quite see her, you can hear her exasperation in the way she’s loudly chewing her gum. “You’re going to the movies, you’re barely gonna be able to see him anyway. Besides, you’ll be able to see him when he’s close enough to kiss and that’s the whole point.”

You blink each eye one at a time, trying to gauge which one is better. Your left eye is slightly clearer, though the difference is negligible. “I think you’re severely overestimating my eyesight.” 

“I think you’re severely underestimating my dating advice.” She blows a bubble, the view of her face becoming a bright pink smudge before it pops and she continues smacking. “Just trust me, it’ll all be fine.”

You do trust her. Even though she has spent the last two hours plucking and primping and preening, you want to take her advice. She’s not doing this to be condescending or controlling. She’s genuinely excited that you have a date, even more so that it’s with a living breathing human boy and not another library book. 

You don’t have much experience. With dating, with seeing someone, with kissing someone. What it means to be dating someone versus what it means to be seeing someone. What you’re supposed to do when you kiss someone. I mean, are your lips supposed to be on top of each other or are they supposed to interlock like the teeth of a zipper? Yeesh, you didn’t even wanna think about how teeth and tongues factor into the equation. 

These types of questions would usually be the kind that you would ask an older sister. You’ve just never had the bravery to say them out loud. Sure, you’ve watched romance movies and rewound and observed so much that you were afraid the tape in the VHS was going to break. And you’ve read enough romance that Ms. Marissa gives you side-eye when you pass the library’s reception desk. But there’s a difference between fiction and real life. A bridge you’ve yet to cross. You’re sure that you’re going to need all the help you can get.  

So, you heed her advice. You let her spray you with enough Aquanet to try to keep the flyaways at bay. You let her paint your lips with a shimmery pink lip gloss that isn’t too sticky and tastes like vanilla. You don’t, however, let her see you sneak the thick frames into your bag for emergencies. If it were up to her, the frames would be set out with Thursday’s garbage and you’d be wearing contacts like everyone else in your age group. 

She drops you off at The Hawk with another smack of her bubblegum and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. She barely waits for you to close the door of the station wagon before she’s speeding away, her Halloween plans including a keg, a pushup bra, and a slightly inebriated Steve Harrington. 

Eddie’s easy to spot. His silhouette sticks out against the brick building, white shirt, black leather, and blue denim against a red background. He lights up when he sees you and it’s the first time you’ve understood the meaning of the phrase. Since you can’t quite see his face clearly, you’re paying extra attention to his body. The way he pushes off the wall to stand tall. The way his shoulders visibly relax. You bet that they could see his smile all way in Indianapolis. 

“I know you’re usually supposed to give flowers on dates, but this is the best I could do.” 

He presents an origami paper flower in the shape of a rose. It’s made from binder paper, evident by the familiar feel of it in your hands. The folds are a bit unsure. There’s evidence of it being undone and folded again with a cleaner precision, you can feel the wear and tear on the paper with your fingertips. You’re dumbfounded. 

“Thank you,” You whisper, twirling the stem between your thumb and forefinger, watching the rosebud spin. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.” 

“Never?” He gapes at you in apparent disbelief before he schools his expression. “Well then, I’m glad to be the first.” He offers his arm to you like a real gentleman and you take it. 

The leather in the crook of his elbow is cold to the touch, but being in such close proximity you can feel the body heat radiating off of him. 

“It’s a continuous marathon, so they’re showing movies all night. We can start with any one that you want.” He gestures up to the marquee above the concession stand. When you look up to the sign, the words might as well be written in Cyrillic the way the letters all blur together. 

After a trip to the concessions stand, the two of you eventually settle on The Exorcist, which you had decided to cling to after Eddie’s nervous yet adorable rambling about which movie would be better to start with. 

Horror movies are even scarier when you can’t tell what’s going on. It didn’t occur to you how much you relied on sight to be able to mentally prepare for jump scares. Eddie must think you’re a total wimp the way you practically leap out of your seat at every flash on the silver screen that accompanies a discordant string of violins. 

You jump when you feel a hand brush your bicep, your arms flinging out. It’s much too late when you realize that intimate touch was Eddie trying to figure out if you were alright. The large Coke that Eddie had gotten–two straws because he said he didn’t wanna be presumptuous–the casualty of your fright. The flimsy lid pops off like it has nothing better to do and the dark brown liquid splashes over the arm of the seat right into Eddie’s lap. 

Eddie recoils, half-jumping and half-hovering in his seat because he just got a handful of ice-cold soda in his crotch. The people behind you are jeering, grumbling about the disturbance and Eddie half-whispers fucking shit under his breath, in what you’re sure must be a mixture of disdain and disgust.  

You pull napkins out of your purse and thrust them in Eddie’s direction before rushing out of the theater, chest heaving and eyes stinging. 

It’s a wonder you don’t trip and fall on your way out. You’ve walked these dimly lit halls hundreds of times, so luckily instinct and muscle memory win out and you make it out of the theater mostly unscathed, just with a few bruises on each shoulder. Nothing compared to the mortification of what had happened inside. 

Because it’s October in Indiana and you can’t seem to catch a break, it’s raining. Only every so slightly, but enough that you’d be soaked to the bone if you walked home thanks to your sister’s insistence that you dress for fashion and not function. You huddle close to the payphone, pondering if you have enough change to call around and get your sister to pick you back up because no way are you waking up your parents for this. 

The doors to the theater creak open behind you and suddenly you’re not alone anymore. The biting cold chills you to the bone but it’s Eddie’s presence behind you that sets you on fire. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

Maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last hour and a half in the dark with your nerves on edge, but the tenderness in Eddie’s voice makes your throat constrict. 

“I’m sorry,” You blubber. “I’m so embarrassed. I just wanted everything to be perfect and I ruined it.” 

“Hey. Hey.” Eddie repeats himself more forcefully when you don’t meet his gaze the first time, “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just a little soda. I’ll live.” 

His fingers rub the back of your hands in a soothing motion. Back and forth, thumbs caressing the valleys between your knuckles. He’s close enough that his features are almost in focus. You still have to squint. 

“You keep doing that.” He points his fingers toward your furrowed brow before mimicking the action on his own face. The finger is not accusatory, it just seems like Eddie likes to talk with his hands. 

You sigh, a resigned and weary sound. “My sister convinced me that I shouldn’t wear my glasses.” 

Eddie makes a face that you can’t quite discern in the dark before letting out a soft hmph! “Your sister kinda sounds a little mean.” 

“She means well.” You defend, weakly. You love your sister to death but there are times that your differences become much too apparent and that leaves you with nothing to do but suffer the consequences. This is one of those times. 

“Did you bring them with you?” 

“Yeah,” You reach into your bag, finding the frames folded into one of the inner pockets. 

Eddie takes them and puts them on you. “You keep doing that.” You murmur, a repeat of his earlier accusation. Now, though, you both know it’s in reference to him adjusting your glasses not just once but twice. 

“It gives me an excuse to be close to you.” 

You can see him with unrelenting clarity now. The little crinkles next to his eyes as he smiles warmly down at you. The way the slight breeze has carried the miserable drizzle under the theater awning. The way that drizzle clings to his curly hair like dewdrops on morning grass. You almost robbed yourself of all of this, and for what? Eddie knows what you look like. 

“Y’know what I thought when I saw you yesterday?” Yesterday, when you had been wearing a witch hat on top of your frizzy hair and the same Coke bottle glasses that sit on the slope of your nose now. “I thought that you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I thought I made a fool outta myself and that you wouldn’t give me the time of day, not in a million years.” 

“The whole scaredy cat schtick was quite endearing I must say.” 

He nods seriously, just a slight hint of a smirk on his face. “I try my best.” 

You look down at the seat of his pants. Sure enough, there’s a dark stain splashed right across his crotch.“Oh god. I'm so sorry. Again” 

“What did I tell you about apologizing?”

“You didn’t say anything about apologizing.” 

“Well then, this is me saying something. Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“It looks like you pissed yourself,” You wail mournfully. 

“Well, that definitely makes me feel better.” Eddie jests before he tugs you into his chest and plants his chin on top of your head. 

You nuzzle your face into his sternum, appreciating the soft hiss he lets out when your cold nose touches his warm skin. You inwardly groan because, quite frankly, there’s nothing more embarrassing than running out of a nearly full movie theater the way that you did. The only thing more embarrassing than that, you think, is going back inside after having embarrassed yourself. You tell Eddie as much, with the reassurance that you don’t want the date to end and if he really wants to, you can go back inside and finish the movie. He’s already tugging you toward his van that’s parked on the other side of the street, saying the six words that make your night:

“I own The Exorcist on VHS.”

You spend the entire time back in the trailer park cuddled up having quiet conversation about gory practical effects over a bowl of microwaved popcorn. The closest he gets to kissing you is when you duck into his chest to hide and his lips brush your temple. He could’ve lived off of that single brush for the rest of his life if he had to. 

When Eddie pulls up to your house later that night, he really does mean to give you an innocent kiss goodnight. The neighborhood is quiet, seeing as it’s probably been an hour since the children of Hawkins had fallen into their sugar-induced comas. He turns the engine off and shifts towards you, his smile both giddy and shy while he tells you that he had a really good time tonight. You mirror his expression and tell him the same. You both lean forward, chests rising and falling in tandem, noses brushing. 

When you finally make it past the front door, your lips are swollen and your glasses are fogged up. You kick off your shoes and pad up the carpeted steps two at a time, racing to your bedroom window. When you turn on your lamp and look out to the tree-lined street, Eddie waves at you, his rings glinting in the streetlight. You wave back, watching the van disappear into the distance. 

“Hey,” Your sister is leaning against the doorframe, smiling like the cat who got the cream.

“How’d it go?” You’re already slightly aware of the answer since she’s standing in front of you with a freshly washed face and hand-me-down pajamas instead of in an empty house in Loch Nora. 

She shrugs noncommittally, “It was a bust.” 

You hum in solemn solidarity, trying to tug the grin on your face into a much more situationally appropriate neutral expression. You feel for her and you don’t want to rub it in her face that you had such a good time, despite her advice. Unfortunately, you do not seem to have as much control over your facial muscles as you think you do. Your sister sees right through you, grabbing the purple throw pillow at the foot of the bed and launching it at your face telling you to shut up. You catch it before it has the chance to hit you, huffing with righteous indignation at her before the two of you collapse onto the bed in muffled laughter. 

“So, how’d it go?” She whispers in your direction, mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall. 

You trace your cupid’s bow, feeling the chapped and swollen skin for the hundredth time that night. You turn your head toward hers, readjusting your glasses when they slide down your nose. 

“It was perfect.” 

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished 🖤

[moon-child-goddess]

When we say goodbye Pt 1

Pairings:  Druig X LightBender!Eternal!Reader (Fem) 

Summary: Druig and readers time together before he leaves the group. The beginning of her descent into darkness. 

Warnings: MCU Violence, Blood, Fighting, I used Fem pronouns, some fluff and angst. Time Jumps

Author's note: I watched Saltburn and then Eternals, got an Idea so here we are my first ever thingy thing. This is part one. I got carried away…. I hope you all enjoy it! 

Part Two Part Three

Intricate gold patterns trailed up Y/Ns arms as she used the sunlight around her to create a massive hawk. It took off, sinking its glowing talons into the deviant’s eyes. The creature let out a strangled shriek before biting the bird. The golden creature dissolved in its jaws. Y/N pulled more light together, throwing it at the ugly monster. The ground rumbled under her feet as it fell over.  It held the force of a mini earthquake. She used all the strength in her legs to keep from toppling over. Usually, Y/N had to have help from Thena or one of the other Eternals help her take the deviants down. She could wound them but hardly ever executed. 

A deviant that was hidden in the tree line focused on the Y/H/C-haired girl. She stood over its friend, a  wide victorious smile on her face. And did a small dance, proud of herself. It huffed out before taking off toward her. The creature now behind Y/N raised a clawed hand, slashing it through the air with the force of hurricane winds. An ear-splitting scream passed her lips while the deviant’s razor-sharp nails ripped through her flesh. Cutting right through her like a perfectly done steak. A searing heat of pain ran through her body. 

"Y/N!" Druig cried out. Within a heartbeat, he took off running to her. Leaving Kingo and Thena to fend for themselves. He knew they were more than capable of handling their situation.  After all, Thena could take three deviants down in the blink of an eye. 

Gilgamesh neutralized the deviant attacking the girl, effectively preventing it from killing Y/N. More deviants came out of the trees to defend their fallen, pulling him back to Thenas side. There were more of the creatures in this area than anywhere the group had been before. They were multiplying like bunnies in the spring.  

Druig knelt in Y/N's blood as it soaked in to the forest's floor and carefully pulled her head to his lap. His eyes flitted over the crimson wounds, muttering a sorry when a whimper escaped her. Through the blurry haze of pain, she could make out a deviant coming toward the two of them. No one besides Y/N seemed to notice the thing. Without another thought, she used the small patch of sunlight by her fingers directing the stream of light to blind the monster. Cerci took care of the rest.

"Saved my ass again, my sunshine." He smiled that breathtaking smile, pushing her hair out of her face. Druig took a deep breath wiping any emotions he showed off his face. He didn't want to worry his friend. 

"I think we are even now," she spoke, inhaling sharp breaths with each word.

Ajak got down by the two, placing her hands on Y/N. A numb, tingling feeling ran through her. It felt like her limbs were waking up after sleeping on them wrong. Even with how many times Ajak has used her abilities on her, it was a sensation she would never get used to. Once Ajak was finished,  Y/N thanked her.  Honestly, the group would have been dead if Arishem hadn't given them Ajak.  

Y/N got up to her knees and faced the black-haired menace she called her best friend. She bit her lip, not finding the words she wanted to say. ‘Thank you…I love you.’ Instead, she hugged him.  Druig buried his face in her neck, inhaling in her smell overwhelmed his senses.  A reminder she was still there.

“You’re still here,” he murmured against her neck, causing chills to run down her spine.

“You would miss me if I was gone. Who would accidentally hurt Ikaris for you." Y/N joked, pulling away to look into his beautiful blue eyes.

"You don't even know." He responded. Ruffling her hair before helping her up. 

---------

Thena dodged at Y/N. They were training in a secluded  area of a beach. The girl side stepped out of the way effectively blocking the blonde warrior. Thena tried a right hook and Y/N used her arm to block the hit. That was the fourth time in a row. Which was a major improvement. 

“See I can fight” Y/N giggled as Thena threw another punch at her. 

“You have some things to work on, for your safety.”  Thena responded. She was doing this for Y/N, but Druig had begged her to help. He never asked for anything so she gladly complied. 

Y/N managed to hook her leg over Thena’s. Effectively pulling  her down on the sand. She straddled the warrior with a victory smile. Sounds of claps met her ears from a distance. Looking up it was Makkari cheering her on. Thena used the distraction to flip over and pin Y/N down. She wore the victory smirk now. 

“You cheated” 

“You lost focus.” Thena pulled her up.  

“Did you want me to kill you?” Y/N asked exasperated. 

“No, but let's go again. This time I won't go easy”  

“Easy?” That was outrageous.

 Y/N made the first move this round of sparing. Thena effortlessly dodged the attack knocking Y/N down. She glared up at the women, more determined to win. She got up and tried again only to be knocked on her ass once again. Grains of sand fell into her clothes, and stuck  to her sweat. Her hair was all over the place too she knew she had to have looked crazy. Her chest heaved as she began to catch her breath. 

Thena put an arm out to help her up but dropped her halfway up. The blonde woman smiled down at her. Y/N  heard a laugh this time. She knew that laugh like it was the air she needed to breathe. He must have made his way over with Makkari. Those two were attached at the hip lately. 

“Shut up Dru.”  she called out to her dark haired friend, and bit down on her lip. 

Thena helped Y/N back up and got her to her feet this time. Nodding at the girl to go again. There was a moment of hesitation before she lunged back at her screaming. This time she grazed Thena with her fingers, and escaped the movement the warrior made to grab her. There was at least 7 feet between them now. They both waited for the other to make a move. Thena started to go for Y/N’s right but swerved for the left taking the girl for surprise and once again putting her on the sandy floor. 

Y/N huffed out, defeated and done for the day. She covered her face with her aching arms. This hit was going to bruise. Druig laughed again. 

“Once again, shut up Dru.” He apologized but his tone was joking. She knew he was too amused to mean it.  

“You are doing well. In another week you will be able to defend yourself flawlessly.” She pulled Y/N back up to her feet. Signing to Makkari to join her in the city. 

Druig was distracted by the sweat glinting off Y/N’s body as she made her way to sit next to him. She dug her bare feet into the warm sand resting her head on her knees. He rubbed her back watching the ocean's waves roll on to the shore. 

“You are improving sunshine.” She grunted at his words. 

‘Lies’ she thought leaning in to him. Her body hurt all over. 

---------

Y/N ran through the crowded town square knocking into some people. She ignored the glares thrown her way, too focussed on finding her friend. She wanted to show him something exciting. He was going to love it. It thrilled her to know she was going to see that soft smile of his.  

“Druig!” Y/N yelled when his head of hair came into view.  As soon as he heard her voice, he dropped what was in his hands, looking for her.  A small smile fought its way onto his face as she ran towards him. She quickly closed the remaining distance between them before he could even step forward.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

"Yes, my sunshine?" His smile widened as he watched her bounce on the balls of her feet. Obviously excited about something. 

"Come with me. I want to show you something." Y/N grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. She whisked him off toward the forest. He didn't have the opportunity to say no. Not that he would have denied her anything. He would have walked across hot coals if she so much as asked.

They came to a halt in the middle of a clearing of varying purple colored flowers. Y/N stood, so she was right in front of him, stealing his attention. He used their joined hands to pull her closer. A sparkle crossed his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. He glanced down at her soft lips. Their lips were a breath away from what they both wanted, but they were too stubborn to do anything. 

"Ok, close your eyes, no peeking." she bit down on the inside of her cheek, untangled their fingers, and took a step back. Druig frowned. And reached out to her. She shook her head.  

"I swear, Y/N,  if this is a trick. I will not talk to you ever again." That was a lie. Even if it wasn't, she would wear him down. She knew all the right buttons to push to get his attention. A soft musical laugh escaped her before she responded. He yearned to bottle that sound up for a cloudy day. 

"Dru, it's not. Now place your hands over your eyes, and no using your powers." He poked her in the side, straightening up before complying with her demands. It earned him another laugh. 

Druig could sense her tongue sticking out. Y/N had always done that when she was concentrating. He knew her better than he knew himself. He paid attention to every detail for centuries and stored them in his memory. Druig could read her like an open book. Sometimes he wondered if she knew all her little quirks. How she tousled her hair when she was stressed or when her nose twitched when she wanted to yell.

After a couple minutes, Druig's hands were tugged away from his face. He kept his eyes closed, waiting for her to be truly ready. Afraid to ruin her surprise. Y/N once again laced their fingers together. Druig squeezed her palms, rubbing his thumb across her soft skin.  He could stay like this forever, just the two of them. Although, he would prefer to actually see her. 

"Open." It felt like an eternity before he did as she asked. 

The scene in front of him was ethereal. Thousands of gold butterflies fluttered around them. Y/N watched as Druigs sapphire blue eyes followed the movements of her creations. There was a lone black one that flew past his face. It looked more like a moth than a butterfly. It landed on a rock before vanishing. 

Druig’s whole body was relaxed for the first time in a while. He stared at the spectacle in front of him in utter disbelief. With an extended finger, he coaxed a butterfly to land on it. It spread its wings out as he pulled it up closer to examine. There were delicate patterns on the wings. They looked like any regular butterfly, just dipped in liquid gold. 

Druig set the thing on Y/Ns nose and dragged the finger past her lips pulling at her bottom lip and rested on her chin. Her nose scrunched up as the insect walked across her cheek. An affectionate smile took over his face, and his eyes dilated. His finger lingered on her chin a second longer, watching as the butterfly disappeared.  

She had butterflies; anytime he touched her or simply looked her way. With that look, he reserved for her alone. It was softer than he ever looked at Makkari. Butterflies were there at the thought of him.

"How is this possible? You can usually only create one thing at a time."  Druig pulled them both down. He sat on the cold ground and her on his lap. He snaked an arm around her waist, holding her close. He rested his chin on her soft hair, keeping his gaze on the moment playing out before him. 

"I'm not sure I was playing around, and bam. Butterflies." Y/N paused, making an exploding gesture with her hands. She looked like a kid on their birthday, giddy.

“Not the most frightening thing. But hey, I did it."

"This is wonderful. My beautiful, beautiful sunshine." Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, watching the glittering butterflies disappear with the sunset. Druig played with her hair absentmindedly, placing a soft kiss on her temple.

----

Y/N stood in the forest with everyone listening to Ajak lecture Druig about controlling the humans. Thena began to twitch and mumble inaudible things next to her. Y/N truly thought it was another insult toward Druig, but she couldn't hear anything as Phastos began yelling. Thena  started to speak a little louder this time. 

“Thena?” Sersi said, turning to us looking concerned. “Are you ok?” 

“Everyone is going to die” Thenas eyes went a foggy white, and she summoned a polearm ready to attack. 

“Sersi!” Y/N cried out trying to get in front of her before Thena could attack. Makkari reacted instantly before the rest of the group knew what was happening, and pulled Sersi out of the warrior's way. Druig focused on Y/N’s cries. 

Chaos broke out instantly. The golden weapon managed to hit Phastos. Y/N tried to summon something but there was no light available to pull from. The darkness moved slightly casting shadowy lines on the ground, but she couldn't gain control of them.  Druig yanked her out of the way as Makkari took off with Thena.  

Before Druig could even try to stop her, she went running after them.She ran as fast as she could trying to have half the speed Makkari had. He called out to stop her, but she was too far gone, trying to protect those she cared about.  

Makkari was hurt on the forest floor. Thena waved her weapon around frantically, nicking the girl in front of her. Drawing blood. Y/N let out a hiss. Was it dumb to run after someone when she can't fight? Absolutely, but she wanted to protect her family.  Thena was about to make a fatal blow, but Ajak stopped it with her hand. She showed no emotion as she stared the warrior down.  It was chilling.

 Y/N used the distractions as her opportunity to get to her friend who was laying still. She put pressure on Makkari’s wound to slow the blood loss.Throwing her whole weight on it, which caused the girl under her to flinch. 

“It's ok. We will fix this.”  Y/N spoke, trying to keep calm while waiting for Ajak to come. Hoping Makkari would understand her. 

Druig knelt next to her putting his hands on top of A/N’s. A worried look flashing through him as he caught sight of the cut on her arm. Ajak was over in no time working on healing them. Gilgamesh stood by looking absolutely guilty for what he had done to Thena. 

Druig pulled Y/N to a river washing her hands in the cool water. It was slowly grounding the girl back to reality. He murmured gentle affirmations to her as he scrubbed at her skin. 

--

Once again, Druig and Ajak were arguing about the humans. They were all in the confines of a pyramid now. Ikaris involved himself always acting as if he was the one incharge. He threatened Druig. They frequently fought about something stupid and made empty threats. Normally Y/N would defend him. But she was overwhelmed with the dry blood that remained under her nails and Thena laying in front of her. Y/N had found it easy to tune them out through the centuries, turning them into background noise. Her second favorite person was hurting, and she couldn't fix it. This wasn't fair, she thought. Ajak couldn't even truly fix it. Her powers had limits, just like the rest of the group.

Intense words continued to be traded amongst the group. A malicious tone was hidden behind every spoken thought.  Ajak stayed calm; she was the only one with a level head. Y/N stood stark still in a corner, keeping quiet. She tried to become one with the wall behind her. Her eyes were glued to the colorful walls, begging internally for them to calm down and stop. 

Eventually,  a stark silence took over the room. Cries of the innocent outside seemed to disappear through the walls. Y/N glanced up,  examining the small space. Druig was rushing out. No one moved from their place to stop him. They just watched. 

Y/N began to hyperventilate; the air was thinning out. Dru wasn't going to say goodbye? Was our friendship a lie? Did he only put up with me for entertainment?  Poisonous thoughts raced through her head. Her feet had their own mind and made her take off after him.

"Druig!" Y/N Shouted, bolting down the stairs. She wanted to beg him to stop… to come back and say it was all a sick joke. She yearned for him to tell her he would never leave her behind. 

‘Stay with me, please.’ She begged him subconsciously.  Her thoughts were so loud that she was half convinced he could hear them when he flinched. Y/N knew it was selfish, but she needed him

A choked sob escaped her as her feet hit the flat ground. It felt as if her heart was making its way to her throat. The thing beat rapidly against her ribs like a stampede of gazelles being chased as prey. It was almost painful.

"Dru, please." He didn't respond, only walked at a faster pace. Y/N yelled out again. One last desperate attempt to get his attention. 

This time, he stopped surrounded by the people under his control. Y/N blinked back the tears, threatening to fall. She placed a hand over her mouth, smothering a sob. Druig’s hands clenched into tight fists. He watched the people in front of him, all unmoving not even a blink. 

 "Please- Please don't leave me."  Y/N’s voice cracked. Deep inside her soul, she knew this was goodbye. He turned to face her, eyes dilated. Instead of sapphire blue, she was met with black pools of obsidian. She stepped forward. The people were already on the defense with her movements towards the Eternal. Druig stopped them immediately she was no threat, and no harm would come to her at his hand. 

"My beautiful, beautiful sunshine. I have to go. Arishems plan is not for me.” Druig cautiously wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. He never wanted to be the reason for those tears, but this was what was best for her. She would regret leaving with him, and he couldn't ask her to leave the people she loved so much. Y/N closed her eyes. Tipping her head up to the starry sky, she let out a depleted laugh. 

“You are going to do wonderful things." He mumbled. Before he could stop it, he pulled her in for a hug. Druig held on tighter than usual. She wrapped herself around his frame, taking in the comfort of his hold. He buried his face in her neck. They fit together perfectly. As if they were sculpted for each other. They were two pieces of a puzzle meant to be lost. He pulled away slowly and tucked loose strands of Y/N's hair behind her ears. Then placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose before resting his forehead against hers.

"Please." she choked on her tears, reaching out to cup his face. She held on to him like one would hold an injured bird. Druigs eyes flashed through emotions before going blank.  Oh how he wanted to be selfish, but he couldn't ask her to leave. He wiped away another tear, yearning to stop her pain. Their lips were mere inches apart. He could take the one thing he's wanted since he met her on that ship.  But he couldn't do that to her. He was a selfish man, just not when it came to her. 

"You need them, and they need you." He took a step back and locked his jaw. It took everything in his soul to not reach out and grab her. He forced himself to walk away. 

"No." She whispered as she watched him retreat through the flaming city. Her heart shattered with each step he took with his new followers. A darkness began to fill in the cracks.

"I-I need you." she whispered to the air once he was gone.  

[costelloschoice]

Hello!! I absolutely adore your first! I was wondering if you could do a siren mizu x pirate reader?? Idk it's js been on my mind lately idk why 😭 you ofc don't have to if it's too much! Thank you and keep up the amazing work!! 😊💖

-Firstly, thank you <3. And two, I love this idea! thank you for requesting <3

Those Eyes

-Siren! Mizu x Pirate! fem! Reader

-warnings: strangers x lovers, seduction, some inspo from the Odyssey, yes I know sirens are incapable of falling in love but this is my fantasy so shhhh...

You’re not sure how long you’ve been on the water, but it’s taking a drain on you.

You weren’t captain, but you weren’t the lowest on the deck. You weren’t the one that mops but not the one that leads. Being one of the only women was the hardest part. The constant teasing, the insults…It took a mental toll on you. You were lucky that the captain even let you stay in his cabin to protect from the other men at night. The captain never tried anything with you knowing he had a wife waiting for him.

That’s why when the captain stated the boat was passing through dangerous siren territories, you were their guinea pig.The captain order everyone to put beeswax in their ears, knowing it would protect them from the luscious sing from the women of the sea.

You on the other hand, were to be tied up to the mast of the ship. Your were going to hear the legendary siren’s call. Maybe it was a plot to get you off the boat, you couldn’t care. You had nothing waiting for you at home or any luck with treasure hunting and looting. The crew wasn’t exactly the best and yet you put your whole life into this. Maybe it was for the best..?

Leaving your family behind for treasure put a large dent in your relationship with them…But you promised to bring them back treasure you can help them with financially. Knowing that you failed almost made you want to die to the sirens.

You heard from legends around that these women were beautiful mermaid like creatures that have the face, voice, and body to lure men in to snatch them for dinner. You also heard of sirens with a beautiful women’s head but the body off a large hawk. But from both stories, their voice were sure to drag you in. Yet one questioned remained among the men. Since you were a women, would it even work in you? Many have doubt but some travelers believe the infectious song will make anyone delusional enough to come join the women in the waters.

And there was no way to get out of this. You were tied tightly to the mast, surely to have brush burn and bruising after this. You arms tired behind your back, ankles together, and finally your whole body tied to the mast. Your heart picked up when they put in their beeswax, knowing you can’t call for help.

As you tried to calm your breathing, you heard something in the distance…A song? A beautiful song with an even more beautiful voice…

The captain seemed to notice the fog slowly approaching. He hurried and ordered the hundreds of men to try and paddle the ship fast. Your heart was beating out of your chest, trying to take deep breathes.

Then that voice. That voice that pierced right through your heart....

You looked to see a woman with the legs of a fish sitting on a rock. Her piercing, almost glowing blue eyes stared at the ship. She was trying to catch her prey, though she was only one woman she could easily take them down. Her long black hair covered her breast, tailing slowly moving side to side as she sang. Suddenly you felt something take over you, take over your mind and emotions. Your body was betraying you, you felt yourself starting to thrash against your restraints, trying to get yourself free.

The captain noticed you thrashing trying to get yourself free. He foolishly tried yelling for the men to paddle faster. They couldn't hear him but can see the frantic look on his face. When they look at you, seeing your body get free from your wrist and ankle restraints. As they try and paddle faster, her voice got louder.

Her voice was pounding in your ears, hurting but soothing at the same time. The siren's voice was calling to you pulling you in. The struggle soon stopped then you managed to free yourself from the mast. The men watched in shocked as you tried to jump over the boat. The captain ran to you, grabbing the back of your shirt and holding you close.

You cried out when the men tried to stop you, "Let me go! Please Let me go! Please!" You cried, trying to fight off the 5 men that tried to hold you down.

Her voice grew louder, giving you an adrenaline rush. The rush gave you strength you the strength to fight back, pushing the men off. You leaped off the ledge, soon embraced by the cold rush of water. Even in the water, the song didn't stop. This is what she wanted...

Coming up from the water you swam to her, swimming closer to her rock. You panted like dog as you swam to her, coming closer to the siren. Her arms reached to you, seeming like she wanted to hold you. You smiled as she lifted you continuing to sing as she stares into your eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes drew you in as her song did, blocking out the yelling from the men from the ship.

You felt her come closer to you, to kiss you. Closing your eyes, you waited for the embrace...but were soon welcomed by cold water again. You were being dragged through the water, being pulled around by the deadly siren. You opened your eyes to see the siren's bright blue ones staring back at you...She was now going to eat you, just like the legends say...This is how you're dying.

Now it's time to accept your fate, fate of a foolish woman.

You waited for death, but it never came. You opened your eyes to see a damp, wet, and dark cave...Then the siren looks down at you, "You're lucky enough to live..." she said in a deep and smooth voice. They voice of them women was better then any treasure you could dig up.

“Y-Yeah…Why am i alive?” you asked too weak to sit up. She placed your head on her lap, your hair against her scaly tail. She stroked your hair, making you smile. This had to be a dream. A beautiful siren was here stroking your hair? “Why haven’t you killed me?”

She simply shrugged, “You’re different. I never seen a beautiful woman like you. I spotted you a few night ago when your hair was throwing a…party of some sort. You looked so lonely as those men discarded you like it was nothing…I felt bad for you..”

“Know selfish men like that, i knew they would set you up as soon as you went into siren territory. I told the other girls to give me some privacy to lure you in..” *she said, smiling at you. While you didn’t even know but be scared she had been stalking you and your crew….or to be flattered she should you beautiful. “I want you here…with me…forever. I want to just,..turn you into a siren forever..” she said, clearly optimistic from just a few minutes of knowing me.

But, could this work? Your family has probably already forgot about you…Your crew could care less to go back to you…Maybe you’ll like it here with her…You smiled up at her,

“I’d like that a lot..”

[marilynthornhilllover]

Kinkmas fanfic: #5

Deep breaths

G!p Larissa weems x Fem!reader

Warning: smut, fingering, cunniligus, praise kink,degradation kink, possessiveness, jealousy, mean larissa, mean reader, squirting, use of strap, larissa as a d!ck, slight overstiumlation, teasing, fluff.

" what the fuck are you even talking about larissa?!" You shouted as she slammed the door behind you after you entered. You met her gaze as you turned to face her, a rather complex look painted on both your faces . You waited for her to show some sort of emotion or snap back at you but all she did was scoff as she rolled her eyes and walked pass you, giving you a disgusted look.

" great you had so much to say during the drive back now your silent?!" You shouted as you trailed behind her wanting answers. At the Christmas party that larissa hosted at Nevermore Academy tonight, a random lady was rather " kind" towards you. Touching your muscles and pretending to love your cringy jokes. of course larissa saw the communication with her hawk eyes. Larissa being the possessive and jealous wife that she was, she obviously had to cause a commotion.

She grabbed the lady by her hair and proceeded to start a fist fight but you were faster and held her back by the hips and took her outside where she then left one of the most itching slap on your face before dragging you to the car where the ride home was much more longer since she spitefully took the longer route just so that so could argue with you about how 'you were the one who allegedly led the lady one with your muscles'.

" She was grabbing your fucking ass y/n" she spoke up slamming her glass on the counter top before proceeding to pour herself some hard liquor from the wine shelf. Your eyes shot up at her as you stared daggers at her, as she of course returned them not backing down. You didn't like her attitude, usually you would fuck it out of her but tonight was just one if thoses nights where you just couldn't stand her raging jealousy, it's like she didn't trust you or didn't want you to look at any other woman other than her.

Which you didn't mind but that was utterly ridiculous not to mention impossible.

" Oh please larissa! What are you twelve!? She was holding my back so I wouldn't fall, I'm sorry I can't help it if someone gives a shit whether or not I fall in theses heels that I told you I didn't want to wear!" It was true, the lady did grab your ass, you felt it but you ignored it and you don't have a explanation as to why. but your a straight up Tom boy or in other terms a masculine feminine. You didn't have a problem wearing dresses or skirts but honestly you preferred pants and tracksuits, any shoes cuts the deal but heels is where you draw the line.

You don't know how people wear thoses things, they're literally suicide to people ankles. But of course larissa wanted you to look the part tonight and since you loved her and wanted to make her happy you decided to comply with her request.

Larissa gulped down her liquor in one shot and looked up at you with lidded eyes. Her eyes were filled with lust and nothing else mattered at this moment because she always gets her deepest desires answered by you. She took slow strides up to you her hips swaying with every step as she maintained eye contact with you. The tight navy blue dress that she was wearing clung to her body perfectly, her curves outlined spectacularly as it showed off the roundness of her ass.

She sighed as stopped right infront of you. She pouted as she leaned her head to the side to kiss you on the cheek, before leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses to your jaw and down to your neck. You moaned softly and she began gently sucking on your pulse point. You gripped the back of her head, grabbing a fist full of hair in your hands as you pulled on it, making her gasp as she looked up at you.

" maybe I should remind you who you belong to, that way you'll remember the way i fuck you and you'll trust me more mhm baby?" You asked in cooing tone as she nodded, you could already see the pent up stress and the need in her eyes as she grabbed both sides of your face and jumped onto you, wrapping her legs around your waist. You kissed her passionately. she moaned when she felt your strap rub against her core through her dress.

She whined desperately as she grind her hips over the bulge in your pants. You chuckled at her desperate state as you kicked open the door to the bedroom before dropping her down onto the mattress, before beginning to crawl onto her. She grabbed the back of your head and brought your lips to her again in a lip bruising kiss. Your tongue pushed against her lips, asking for entry which she granted without a fuss.

Both your tongues slide and wrapped around eachother in pure ecstasy making her moan into the kiss, a small needy breathy moan as she arched into you. You never wanted this moment to end, you want her to scream and cream on your fingers as many times as her body would allow her too. Larissa was like a drug, you can never truly get enough of her, and everytime you went back for more the feeling was always stronger and better. She was addicting.

The desperation on her face was turning you on, she looked eternal and fucking sexy. You reached down under her dress and ripped off her underwear resulting in her whimpering, like a bitch in heat.

You steadily took two fingers and slid them up and down her slit, feeling her arousal coat them perfectly. You knew excalty what to say and do that would make larissa be wetter than the Atlantic Ocean for you. She was just so easy to tame. You carefully slid the two fingers into her pussy making her gasp as she collapsed onto the bed getting enchanted by the feeling. You groaned slightly as you felt her greedy cunt clench down on your fingers so perfectly.

You could already feel her gummy walls squeezing the life out of your fingers. God she was a sight to see. Her chest was heaving with every breath she took, her mouth was Slightly open as her little cute innocent moans slipped through. You extracted your fingers from her cunt as she whined, her eyes shot open as she looked directly at you. She pouted as tears began to fill her visions as she gaved you that 'pleasing' look of desire and fantasy.

" n-no please baby, y/n please i- need this-" her sentence was cut off with a grutal moan as her head fell back while she shivered, feeling your fingers slowly easing themselves back into her wet cunt. She let out a soft cry as you removed them again. You smirked as her eyes opened again. Her eyebrows quirked as the sexual frustration slowly started to settle in.

" would you just fuck me already?!" She spoke, her voice raspy and filled with pure need. You almost felt sorry for her. You smirked and bit your lips as she started at you, her blue eyes piercing into your soul with frustration that soon subsided.

" please, my love" she whispered as she chased after your lips but you quickly pulled away. She groaned in frustration as she gaved up, you couldn't help but laugh at her distressed state. She was too cute.

" I can see patience is not one of your biggest virtues, my love" you cooed as you made your way down and in between her legs. You can hear her breath hitch as she let out a soft gasp when your tongue made contact with her clit in a slow and painfully teasing way. You smiled into her, loving the way you already had her squirming. You flattened out your tongue against her clit as you began flicking your tongue back and forth against her soft bud.

Larissa moaned as her hands flew to your hair arching her back in the process. You could feel her tight forceful grip on your scalp bringing your face closer to her cunt as her hips bucked against you, riding your face for more friction like the desperate whore she was. You sucked her clit into your mouth as you began to open mouth kiss the slowly becoming puffy bud, your tongue continuing to flick against it. Larissa cried out as she looked down at you before her eyes rolled back.

" fuck fuck fffuckkk" she repeatedly moaned the word 'fuck' over and over again as you felt her legs began to shake beside you.

" so fucking delicious. Good girl" you purred as you removed your mouth from her clit with a pop,.a string of saliva hang from your mouth to her sensitive bud. You softly kissed her clit making her shiver as you kissed insides of her thighs definitely leaving love bites for only you to see later. Larissa huffed as she looked down at you with pure rage. She wanted her release so bad. You smirked at her as you unbuttoned your trousers and pulled it off completely unleashing your strap.

It was larissas personal favorite, black with grit and a slight curve. Larissas eyes widen slightly as she began to literally drool for you. She wanted you so bad - sorry - she needed you so bad..... she needed you to fuck her til she couldn't remember her name, fuck her like a filthy desperate cock loving slut that she in fact was - atleast only for you.

" hand on your knees...now" you spoke in a husky tone as she completely submitted to your command switching positions immediately, laying on her stomach with her ass held high in the air. The bed dipped with your weight as you positioned the cock to her already damped entrance, she didn't even need lube, she was already itching for you, for your cock. You slowly pushed the faux dick into her pussy as she gripped the sheets and arched her back deeper, turning her head to the side to get a better view of you.

You slapped her ass cheek watching as it jiggled instantly leaving behind a red mark. She let out quiet moan as she bit her lips slowly working her hips back and forth on the cock. Your grinned as you watched her fuck herself on your dick. Watching as the cock had no complications going in and out of her. You watch as she her juices coat your cock with heavy arousal making a squelching sound every thurst. You grabbed her hair and made a messy makeshift ponytail with your hand as you pulled her up off of the mattress alittle but not completely against your chest.

" that's it, fuck yourself on my cock baby, you little dirty desperate bitch. What will the school board think if they knew you were this needy for my cock mmh baby?" she whined at your sentence, dragging the walls of her cunt against your cock faster, feeling how unbelievable good the tip was bruising against her sweet spot. She let out a pornograpic moan as she speed up her thrust going faster and deeper as her moans got much more louder.

" come on rissa, I bet you wanna cum on my cock already, that greedy cunt has a mind of it's own, I know you want it" you whispered in her ear as you, trailed kissing down her jaw and neck nibbling and caressing the tender flesh with your sharp teeth, leaving your mark on her making sure to mark your property so that people know she's yours, and yours only. You noticed her thrusts getting sloppy as her legs got wobbly.

You released her hair and pushed her down on the bed, you placed your hands on the deep arch in her back and started pounding your cock in her pussy so good you were positive she'd in oblivion soon enough. Larissa cried out as her hands immediately flew back to your hips as her red nails digged into your flesh. Her ass slapped against your lower abdomen as you pushed your dick as deep as possible into her. She whimpered as she started muttering incoherent sentences as her eyes were rolled back so far in her head, it looked as if she was possessed.

"OH GOD PLEASE!" She screamed as she tried to pull away from you but you pulled her hands back bending her body more as you went even deeper in her. her walls pulsed around the cock as her cunt tighten around it.

" you can take it baby, take it for me" you whispered kissing dow her back as quickened your brutal pace.

" f-fuck FUCK! I'm gonna pee! Darling pleasepleaseplease" she sounded so cock drunk as you ignored her plea. after all you couldn't tell if she wanted you to stop or go harder, when she said she wanted to pee, you knew fully well what she was gonna do. Her brain was all fuzzy and couldn't comprehend what she truly wanted to do. Larissa felt the coil in her tummy snap as she shook terribly against your hold squirting uncontrollably. It was so powerful that the force pushed your cock out. You smirked as you watched her juices drain out of her as her cunt throb and clench down on nothing. You allowed her to come down from her high as you gently pulled out of her, meanwhile you ran to the bathroom to get Towels to clean up the mess taking off the strap in the proces, and putting it away to clean later.

When you emerged from the bathroom you were surprised to see larissa sitting up on the bed with her shape-shifted cock hard and pulsing. Her hand ran up and down her shaft jerking off herself as her eyes stayed pinned on you.

" i think it's my turn to show you that you belong to me as well don't you think?" She purred as she flexed her hips, her cock standing on it's own silently begging you to come closer. You dropped all cleaning utensils and slowly walked up to her, before straddling her lap as both your lips met in a sneering kiss. You moaned into the kiss which larissa Swallowed as she seized the opportunity to entered her tongue into your mouth. You both groaned in unison as you sank down on her cock.

The way she was stretching you open was so delicious. You felt so full at how deep her dick kept sinking deeper into your cunt, pushing against your spongy walls. You slowly lifted your hips before sinking back down on her cock again causing her to groan as she thrust up into you trying find a comfortable seated position in you. You wrapped your hands around her neck as your eyes rolled back.

Larissa smirked as she thursted up into you watching as your face twist with pleasure.

" aw don't tell me that pretty little mind is already going blank for mommy's cock" she cooed as she leaned in to kiss you again. You moaned into her mouth as you lifted your hips and slammed down her her dick again causing her to mumble the words 'oh fuck' and 'shit' as she wrapped her arms around you. she soon started using you for her own release. The room was filled with skin smacking as larissa pounded your pussy so deliciously good, her dick hitting against your g-spot in the most satisfying way.

At this point you were seeing stars. Her eyes rolled back as she felt your hot pussy clamp down around her, sucking her in tightly.

" fucking hell, gonna cum in this pussy and fill it up with my cum, gonna make you pregnant darling" she spoke as her voice cracked. You immediately kissed her again as you felt your end nearing. You were squeezing larissa too much, she felt her coil snap as she allowed herself to cum in your needy cunt as your greedy walls clench around her and milk her dry. Her warm liquid in your pussy pushed you right over the edge as your orgasm hit you like a wreacking ball. You cummed hard on larissa cock as both your fluids dripped out of your hole.

You lazily dragged your cunt over her shaft a with few strokes as she sloppily thrusted up into you before you felt her cock go soft before, she pulled out and shifted back. You looked at her fucked out expression as she smiled up at you. You laughed before proceeding to get off her lap kissing her cheek softly.

" come on let's take a shower" you whispered as you kissed her nose. She chuckled at your cuteness before following your lead into the bathroom. You turned on the water and filled up the bathtub both your legs too wobbly to stand. After the water was the perfect temperature you slipped in and she slipped in between you. You both took turns washing eachothers skin with rich lavender bath soap and vanilla sugar scrubs with natural herbs. After you both wrapped eachother in cozy towels as you both did your skincare routines together.

After you were done you practically threw yourself onto the bed, not caring about putting on any clothes and larissa did the same. She wrapped you in her warm arms as she pulled you in for a gentle kiss pm the forehead. You both smiled in satisfaction as sleep started clouding your visions.

Larissa gently started scratching your scalp with her nails as you quickly fell asleep in her arms, safe and happy. She carefully kissed your lips as she snuggled into your neck.

" I love you sweetheart" she whispered as she too fell in deep slumber.

Tag List: @readingtheentrails @agathaandgwenslesbian @aemilia19 @barbarasstar, if you want to part of the taglist for all upcoming kinkmas fanfics!! <33

[brewed-pangolin]

Got a headcanon request, since it's Super Soap Sunday:

What is Soap like when he's your spotter in the weight room? Does he keep things professional, or does the situation evolve into something...more riveting?

*clears throat*

A million apologies for this being so late. This started as a headcanon, then turned into a drabble and now is a full blown fic. It's definitely not perfect, but whatever. Thank you @deadbranch for all your love and feedback on this. Hope y'all enjoy it, whatever this thing is. 💛

Slippery Soap

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+MDNI I can't resist gym rat Soap. Lots of teasing, tons of innuendos, pissed off Dom Soap, p in v, rough sex at the end. My typical filth, per se.

Word Count: 2.7k

It all started with a simple innocent request. You wanted to up your gym routine a bit and add some weight training to your repertoire. And who better than to ask than the buffed out Scotsman himself. 

“Hey Soap. You hittin the gym today? Thinkin about adding some weight training to my routine. Wanna be my spotter?”

First of all, the moment you ask him to be your spotter, he’s beaming. No matter where you are, his face is full blown flushed. Eyes glistening and those crystal baby blues are shining like diamonds. He’s a kid in a candy store and you just gave him the battered Mars bar mountain. 

But once you make it into the gym, it’s all cool, calm and professional. At least, that's how it starts…

"So, ya want me t'spot for ya eh, lass? A'right. But we gotta go o'er some ground rules first. Don't need ya blowin ya back out on me first go around, yeah."

Soap is the absolute epitome of safety in the weight room. It doesn't matter if you're a full blown gym rat or complete novice, he's going to start you with proper body mechanics.  And he won't be shy about it. He'll have his body flush against your back, hands pressing down in a delicate yet forceful manner to get you into the right starting position.

"Posture, bonnie. Most important rule 'ere. Ya go down wrong ya ain't gettin back up."

It’s subtle, He starts it that way. But you pick up on those innuendos instantly. You know this game all too well. And this is where the ball comes into your court. You can either let him continue with those sly comments and not react. Or you can counter him, hit back just as hard as he does. Just be prepared for what comes of it. You poke the Scottish bear, he’ll poke right back. Hard.

He'll start you on the free weights. Good way to get your body warmed up and ready for the heavier lifting down the line. And Soap will watch you like a hawk; circling, hovering, visually critiquing your technique and giving any pointers he deems necessary to correct your form. 

This is where an opportunity presents itself, and you can’t help but pounce on it like a cat to a mouse.

"Am I the only one that's gonna be workin here? Or are you gonna give me a sneak peak to the Soap Gun Show?"

Poke #1. He knows full well what you’re up to. Those blue eyes darken, and the smirk on his face may as well be chiseled into Roman marble. 

"Not bad hen, not bad. Ya gettin a front row seat, yeah. C'mere."

He'll motion you to the spare bench while he adds more weight to the bar. And he won't low ball this. Training lesson or not, he'll show off like a testosterone fueled peacock. Once he positions himself flat on the bench, he'll go over his posture and advise on the proper way to handle a bench press.

"Feet flat, an' legs parallel to the floor. That's yer counter weight. Naw, on to tha' gun show a yers."

You're taking his advice seriously, but you can't stop as your legs squeeze together to quell that oh so familiar ache within your core to his first press. And Soap's well aware of the effect he has on you, and is now fully engrossed in this back and forth game. He knows exactly how to hit back with weaponized remark. So he ups the ante a bit.

He grunts. And they're not just any grunts. He uses those low, growling vocals that reverberate over your flesh, goosebumps rise in waves over your skin and form a maelstrom of heat in your belly. And you take it all in. His taut skin, the rippling of his muscular arms, the veins popping under his flesh. Your eyes follow the sweat as they traverse the curves of his biceps and land in the divots of his deltoid.  After ten reps he places the bar back in its hooked placement and rears himself into a sitting position.

Skin flushed, sweaty mohawk, skin glistening and breathless; gym rat Soap truly is a sight to behold.

"Yer turn, lass. Take a seat."

You don't hesitate. Even as the remnants of his exertion pool into the leather of the bench, you quickly line yourself up to the head, and following his advice position yourself just as he had instructed. Once he removed enough weights to be more fitting for your abilities he stood at the head, hands under the bars and motioned you to take them within your grasp. And as your eyes met he had to add his own quarrel just for good measure.

"Ya likin the view, bonnie?  Grab the bar 'ere."

Oohh he's having way too much fun with this. Lightly he tapped on the metal and you fastened a strong grip around the cold steel. And as you brought it down to rest on your chest you again countered him with your own jestering quip.

"C'mon now Johnny, y'know I always love looking up to you."

Soap's chest flared up as he broadened his stance, a vibrating moan emanating from his throat as his feet cemented into the floor and displayed a completely assertive posture. You were slowly breaking away at his control of this situation, and he didn't fully comprehend how to handle it. He couldn't very well bend you over, you were in a public place after all.

You took his wavering control into your hands, and as you began your presses you locked eyes with him. Not even bothering to count. And the flirtatious curling of your lips must have hit a nerve, accompanied by the view of you straining with a light glistening of perspiration over your skin. Soap was going down. Fast. 

Instantly, his hands laced into the hem of his sweatpants to readjust himself; clearly you were having a profound effect on him. You had barely done ten reps before Soap grabbed the bar from your hands, forcefully putting it back into its hooked resting place. 

"Enough a'this. Up ya get. On to tha deadlifts."

The rumble in his voice didn't go unnoticed. You were more than appreciative that the weight room was deserted, but there were still patrons in the gym area, who thankfully were too engrossed in their own business to bother themselves with the flustering banter going on between you two. 

As you made your way towards the dumbbells you noticed Soap kept himself unusually close to you, and stood at an almost full perpendicular position once you had found the correct weight. The sight of him red faced and frustrated had you swimming in victorious energy. Soap was never one to lose his cool in public situations, but this was new territory for the both of you. And somehow you ended up with the upper hand, a circumstance that most definitely didn’t go unnoticed. And most certainly wouldn’t go unanswered. 

You cocked your head towards him as he stood beside you, eyeing him up and noticing just the slightest tent within the fabric of his sweatpants. And you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Ya alright there, Johnny? Looking a bit flustered.”

Poke #2. Your whispered coo nearly sent him over the edge. His eyes bore into you, like a darkened stormfront barreling towards you. The muscles of his jaw clenched and you swore the veins in his forehead were on the verge of bursting.

“Grab the weight, bonnie. Ya workin my last nerve.” 

It was barely audible, but the gravely tone in his voice was electrifying. You obliged him for his own sake, and did a full set of ten reps without a single word or act of defiance. You could feel the energy soften around him, whatever loss of control he had he was beginning to regain. Standing straight you eyed him again, silently requesting any pointers or advice on your technique. 

“Good form, hen. Now, let’s move on to..."

“I think I’ll do one more rep.”

Your abrupt interjection caught him off guard. And unfortunately for his sake, this was the last of the control he would have in this flirtatious quarrel. Quickly you turned and pressed your back into him, the suddenness of your movements not giving him any time to react. Slowly you bent down and as your hands wrapped around the ring of the dumbbell you cocked your head towards him. With the best ‘fuck around and find out’ expression you could muster,  you returned that coy banter that put this whole scheme into play.

“Ya likin the view there, Johnny?”

Poke #3. Immediately his hands grasped into the curve of your hips, firmly pressing your ass against his pelvis and feeling that delectable bulge in the fabric of his pants. Even through the barrier you could feel the throb of his cock on your flesh. Soap had folded in the game he put before you, and fortunately for you, he was a sore loser.

“Drop it.”

The bark in his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through you, adding to the death grip his hands had on your hips and the pulsing of him between your ass you were already teetering on overstimulation. Yet you pressed on regardless.

“The weight, smartass. Gonnae deal wit tha’ attitude later. C’mere.”

“The weight, or the attitude?”

Standing up straight against him, he pulled your hips in closer letting you feel him hardening in the crevice of your ass. His lips ghosted the flesh of your ear and his hot breath fell over the curve of your neck. 

“Ya testin my patience, bonnie. And ya a’ready got me workin a full stauner ‘ere.”

The flesh of his lips was warm, soft. At complete odds with the cold stone frustration that wrapped around his words. He began to rock his hips into yours, desperate to feel any friction against him, wanting nothing more than to bury himself deep within your cunt. You had only now noticed how wet you were, so focused on the game at play you all but ignored your own arousal. But you weren’t quite finished with this cat and mouse match just yet. 

“Its your own fault, Johnny. I just wanted a simple lesson, you had to turn it into whatever this is.”

As you spoke your hands reached around to his hips, and at the trailing of your words you wrapped your hands around his hardening cock. The feeling of him throb through the fabric made your pussy clench, ache for him to fill you to the brim.

Soap’s breath hitched at the slightest touch of your fingers around him. Instinctively his hips thrust into your grip, eliciting a guttural moan escaping from his lips.

“Yer a fuckin minx, y’know that.”

There was something so endearing when he used nicknames for you, but minx was one you cherished more than most. You knew you had bested him at his own game. You would flaunt your victory in front of him for days to come, but you knew all too well you’d have to survive the onslaught of poor sore loser Soap first. And with that thought in mind, you decided ‘what the hell, go big or go home.’

“Is that gonna be it for it today Soap, or are you planning on giving me a real workout at some point?”

Ultimate Poke. All that playful beaming faded from his face, and those bright blue orbs turned as dark as the deep ocean. He knew he lost the battle, but that last quip threw him over the defeated edge. Quickly he dragged you over to the wall and pressed your back against the cold mirrored glass. His arms outstretched on either side, thick frame caging you in, denying any escape from his sorely beaten fury.

“Yer askin for it, aren’t ya. Meet me outside hen, an’ I’ll give ya a real workout.”

With that, he left you against the wall. Heart nearly pounding out of your chest and body electrified in victorious conquest. You had bested your Scot at his own game. So many times he had won you over, making you crumble to his feet in utter defeat. You relished in this, bathed in the energy that still filled the room. And as you peeled yourself from the cold glass you looked around and reminisced on those silent victories littered throughout the room. You left quietly, your feet floating on the high your mind had manifested. And as you turned the corner to go down the back hall, with your head held high and a proud step in your gate you marched towards door and openly invited whatever defeated torment Soap would throw at you. 

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

“Steamin fuckin’ Jesus, bonnie. Got me runnin fire hot ‘ere.”

The taste and smell of leather rushed over your senses like a barreling riptide, a constant push pull motion not too dissimilar to the movements your bodies were making now. It was the only thing keeping you held down to reality as you felt him piston his cock deep within your hole. You had won the battle in the weight room, but Soap would win the war in here; a spare equipment room where the stench of sweat and blood hung to the walls like ancient moss. 

Even now he couldn’t help but run his mouth. One hand with a firm grip on your hip keeping you still, the other held down in the crook of your neck forcing your face into the fabric of the overwarn bench. The earlier comment about “not blowing your back out” rang between your ears, and the memory of the events only minutes before played through your mind like a sultry viewmaster. 

You were basking in the torturous pace he had on your cunt when he unexpectedly repositioned himself and the head of his cock hit that bundle of nerves deep within your pussy. Your walls clenched around him, and a husky drawn out moan escaped your sweat covered lips. 

“No more sass mouthin eh, lass. Aye, know how to shut that fuckin mouth a yers.”

The growl in his voice went straight to your core, and that familiar pulsing ache began to build deep within your lower belly. Soap was right; your grasp on speech had all but left you. Words were foreign or nonexistent all together. As always, he knew just how and when to make you fall apart around him. Soap’s pace began to falter, his hold on your flesh tightening to an all out death grip. A telltale sign that he was close.

Desperate for your own release, your hand traveled down and found the burning nerves of your clit and began to swiftly rub at its pulsing flesh. 

“That’s it. Come for me, bonnie. Come on my cock.”

You were helpless against him. The walls of your cunt convulsed around him as your fingers continued to frantically rub at the flesh of your clit. The waves of your orgasm washed over your skin, goosebumps rippling over your overstimulated flesh. With one final thrust Soap buried himself deep inside you, both hands now gripping into the flesh of your hips as he pulsed his seed deep within your hole. Everything around you fell away; the walls, the stench,the feel of the cold leather against your flesh. All you felt was him. 

As you slowly came down from your orgasmic high he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought your body flush against his own. The sweat between your bodies melded with the fluids dripping from your cunt, still lightly pulsing around the flesh of his softening cock. Soap latched his lips into the crook of your neck, his tongue tasting the salty essence of his defeated wrath against you. As reality began to come into view once more, your mind finally regained the will for speech, and as usual you had to give him your signature ‘sass mouthin.’

“Shit, Soap. Is every workout session gonna end like this?”

He moaned into the flesh of your neck. No doubt there was going to be a bruised hickey left in his wake.

“Nah bonnie, ‘his is only for rewards members.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his remark, and as you turned your head to meet his lips you left him with one last playful quip before taking his mouth. 

“Then sign me up.”

And he followed suit, in proper Soap fashion.

“Yes ma’am.”

[gav-san]

A Vintage Bouquet | 1/5 | Mihawk x reader

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk / Fem Reader

Length: 1/5 Chapters

Summary: Trapped in a monastery and threatened with an impending marriage, you'll strike any deal with a Pirate to escape what your father has in store for you.

Next

“What a treat, for a great warlord of the sea to come to our island.”

Mihawk didn’t remove his feet from the table, barely even bothering to blink at the approach of the voice. Its owner, Rear-Admiral Jacobson, was the insipid leader of the Marine Outpost here, a dull man fitting of the dull backwater.

“It’s truly an honor to host you.” The marine said, taking out a chair to join him, much to his irritation.

“Charmed,” Mihawk replied dryly, barely acknowledging the large man in the marine uniform. “I’m sure.”

The rear admiral laughed, taking a seat on the bar left of the famed swordsman. He didn’t sit too close, clearly aware he was unwelcome, but not scared off 

“I don’t mean to overstep, Hawk Eyes, but I’m shocked to see you here. The West Blue has been very quiet on the pirate front, and less so on any budding warriors. Illa de Palma is paradise for us here.”

Mihawk tilted his head.

He could outright refuse to chat with Jacobson, but it would likely be detrimental. Mihawk was no fan of bright sunlight and the thick humidity on Palma but he did find their wine to be pasable. Insulting the owner of the best vineyard on the island wasn’t going to get him his shipment, or any future ones on any island, knowing the way the wine-masters held grudges.

With a sigh, knowing he wasn’t getting off without revealing a little info, he acquiesced. 

“It isn’t nearly that complicated. I was headed this way and was followed. Since there or no decent vineyards between here and the Grand Line, I thought I may find something interesting.” The swordsman said, raising a glass of dark liquid, and swishing it. “I have yet to decide if it was worth the diversion.”

The rear-admiral Jacobson perked a brow.

“I’d say so, but since it’s my wine, I have a stake in your opinion.”

Mihawk took a measured look, before taking a short drink of the wine, before looking back.

“It’s not terrible.”

The Rear Admiral laughed.

“That’s high praise. I’m not sure anything could please your stiff palette, other than the best.”

Mihawk took another sip, letting the liquid run across his tongue.

“It’ll do, I suppose.” He said, putting it down. “It doesn’t seem like your little island is very interesting otherwise.” The rear admiral Jacobson smiled at the swordsman.

“Interesting? Perhaps not for a man of your caliber, but for me, it’s been divine. We export the best wine and women!”

Mihawk tilted his chin.

“The monastery girls,” Jacobson added, with a wink. “The nobles send their daughters here to learn how to be good wives. Makes the entire island a pretty penny, and we get to see pretty women.”

“How quaint,” Mihawk responded with little care.

Jacobson leaned in as if he expected a juicy bit of gossip, and Mihawk raised his glass again.

“Oh, don’t be so closed-mouth! I know you came in with that fancy noble who has his eyes on our girls! Tell me if it’s true that he wants to take our sweet, lovely island beauty. I speak, of course, of Ms. Gabriella!”

Jacobson named a woman's first name that Mihawk prompted recognized and ignored. The swordsman gave a sound that was similar to a snort, though he was too elegant to do so outright. He was tempted to immediately leave hearing that name again. After having to listen to that incessant noble who decided to follow him, he could live a very long life and not have to hear it again.

“This conversation turns tedious,” Mihawk replied, “Such things hold little interest for me.”

“Always the swordsman, dedicated to your craft.” The rear-admiral joked, much to Mihawk's great annoyance at the familiarity. “For a former pirate, you have always been quite dedicated, much like those nobles.” 

“I’m a pirate, not a savage.” The pirate scoffed, lowering the wine onto the bar with a clink. He rose, moving to leave before he had to hear any more nonsense. “The wine is astringent. Hardly worth a visit.”

The Rear Admiral gaffed, scooting his chair so the swordsman could pass.

“You should pass by the monastery. They had the best wine on the island.” Jacobson said, raising the glass to take a long sniff. “They always purchase our best for their private sacrament.”

Mihawk raised a hand, not bothering to give a reply.

He was not much inclined to take the word of someone who touted such fine taste and failed to live up to the expectations, but he had run low and disliked the idea of setting off without a fresh crate. 

He learned against a pier, next to his boat, listening in to the local fishermen passing, morning still fresh. Villagers only give him half a glance and Marines kept a wide distance, more familiar with his old Wanted Poster. 

He had learned early in life that the best way to discover the best wine was to listen to the townspeople. And though he wasn’t much inclined to speak, he had found his fair share of bounties simply being near. 

But he did raise a brow at the topic of today’s rumor mill. 

It was the name.

The name of the girl, at the monastery. Ms. Something Gabriella. It seemed that this girl was of some importance in the town, her name was like a buzzing fly in his ear.

Gabriella Gabriella Gabriella

What was that first name?

Ah yes.

Ms (name) Gabriella.

After putting the two together he pressed his lips together. 

The last name alone was popular enough that he hadn’t thought much when people shouted praises about the girl. However, the first name was unique enough that it did cause a memory of something to resurface.

Isabella Gabriella.

An old pirate captain, who enjoyed daggers. He wondered if there was any relation between the girl and the pirate swordswoman he had known long ago, who had been a fearsome foe indeed when he was a young man.

She often bragged about her precious little daughter, who had the same name as this monastery girl.

He glanced at the Monastery, turning. Well, he supposed it wouldn’t be that big of a detour. 

Perhaps even bearable if there was good wine.

-XXX-

The white sheets fluttered in the cool sea breeze that the evening on the coast had brought, the crisp breeze ridding it of the last wrinkles and folds. Careful fingers folded the fabric into a sharp square, placing it in the large wicker basket next to the laundry before you turned to the last row of hanging sheets.

You couldn’t help stop your eyes from wandering past the tall stone wall of the Nunnery Annex and gazing down the hill where the shimmering white of Ciudad Blanca lay, flaunting its beauty to all who came across the Isla de Palma.

You could appreciate the artistry that had gone into the white facade of the rich town, as you had once been part of something.

You blinked, hearing your name.

Ms. Gabriella.

Calls of it came from those passing, able to see through the cutouts in the wall, making you feel akin to a goldfish in a too-small bowl. 

The monastery walls had been built less for the comfort of those inhabiting it but as a symbol of its wealthy patrons. It was a very popular destination on Isla Palma, and though you preferred cloistering herself away in the depths of the monastery, you had watched those visitors with a melancholy stirring in your heart. 

Adventurous, free, people.

Located in the West Blue, the beautiful city saw more than its fair share of seafaring wanderers, an almost alarming toss-up of Marines and merchants. You heard more than you saw, as enough seemed to fear the Gods that they would visit, climbing the stairs to reach the tall white building.

And, inevitably, some of those travelers were almost certainly pirates masquerading as sailors. 

And despite your hair being tightly pulled back into a strict bun, secured by coif and wimple, under the black veil, it did little to hide your lovely face and sparkling eyes, as bright as the lights dancing off the warm ocean. 

And others noticed, as well.

When you were on rotation for laundry or any other tasks outside the monastery walls you would be cat-called, harassed, or confronted by angry women.

you tended, hiding yourself behind the last youets, folding as quickly as you could.

You weren’t surprised at the rough-looking travelers who called as you trod behind the Abbess, as you greatly suspected they were pirates. But the number of Marines who would leer at you and the other sisters was downright horrible.

You whipped another sheet off the laundry and winced when you heard a rip.

Damn.

Mother Superior would be greatly displeased with her, as she already thought you taking the food and space that so many other young females would be grateful for. 

A good marriage, the Mother Superior had often told you, was something a face like yours should aspire to. It was one of the Abbotess’s many ways of letting you know that time was ticking for her, and if you could not find a proper husband, you’d be found one.

Choose, you foolish girl, choose! 

Countless men had been offered to her, but the photos and love letters blurred before your eyes as panic caused your stomach to heave.

Your entire body reacted to the notion of marriage, shoulders squaring and knees locking as you attempted not to drop to your knees.

You felt a drop of sweat run down your shoulder at the thought of accepting one of the many proposals coming through the Monastery letterbox. Many wealthy men came to the island, but few were good. Less who had all their teeth, and had the resources to afford a bride dowry for her.

And those acceptable were almost exactly like father.

Your father, a name not earned but given regardless, was a noble living in the holy city of Mary Genoese, bathing in wealth and privilege. you hadn’t seen him in years. He saw you more as a prize swan than flesh and blood, and the only reason you heard from him was when he reminded you of your duty to marry, mainly through very unpleasant Den Den Mushi calls via snail.

And his latest he hasn’t held back, letting you know that whoever you accepted, expected to receive a generous offering for her. 

The Mother Superior had a vice-like grip on your arm, keeping you in check. 

Of course, you agreed.

A record number of Berry would go on to continue running the monastery with your success. That was the whole reason girls like you were boarded and raised by nuns.

But your worth was ticking down if you passed into your thirties without choosing. 

The town bell rang, counting down your hours.

You wanted to pull the entire line of laundry down, angry at everything. Your life hadn’t started as a plot to turn into a breeding cow! 

Your mother had been an adventurous, independently wealthy captain before wedding father. He had promised her a similar lifestyle after getting hitched, just adding his fine title as a nobleman with a residence in the Holy City. 

And so you were a child who had worn only the finest dresses, even when running through the swelling ocean waves, hair perfectly coiffed even as you lay to sleep.

Maids regularly pampered her, and the best tutors engaged her mind. You voraciously read books and loved your father for generously giving you so many. Many afternoons had been spent aboard your mother's ship, set up in a hammock reading romance and eating the finest sweets, and even tasting the fine wine they sailed around delivering.

Your mother's crew was mostly retired marines and had generously taught you all about the wine trade as if you were their child. Your mother taught you more than a few tricks with her daggers, though you preferred the feel of a sword.

Your mother had made you hide this when you visited your father. He had, over time become more and more vocal about his dislike of sea life, how women didn’t suit it, especially concerning you in particular.

You had, deep down, had a feeling that something had gone sour in him.

It had probably not helped that over time, your mother had taken on the lion's share of raising you, and your noble father had mostly enjoyed staying at home, raking in his wife's wealth and attention with far too much free time on his hands. They spent more time away than together, and soon, it was clear divorce would be imminent.

On your sixteenth birthday, your mother, her ship, and the entire crew were shot down by pirates and murdered. 

You had miraculously been on a rare vacation with your father. He had praised the heavens for such good fortune but you deeply grieved, unable to find any value in your life compared to your mothers.

You weren’t even half the woman she was, in any respect, and now she was gone, you saw just how strong she had been to counter a man like your father.

Father wasted no time introducing the newest addition to his collection. And you meant that as a plural since it wasn’t a day after your mother’s passing that you discovered your mother was just one of four wives that your father secretly had. He went around town, touting how you were to be sold off in a similar manner.

You were determined to cut ties, your anger roused at such a callous insult, but before you could touch a penny of your inheritance he locked it away, then he locked you away, per the flexible arm of his noble title. 

Your entire future shifted, and any chance at a seafaring life was gone. And it took less than a day for that to be made clear.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

You paused, hands loosening before you tore another bed sheet, focusing to take another deep breath. 

Taking out your anger here would not give you back what you had lost. You would only receive toilet cleaning duties for the next month if you didn’t control yourself.

But every day, anger cinched your middle tighter, and inevitably, those invisible stays would break, or simply cut you in two. 

Breathe, you reminded herself.

“Ms Gabriella, my beloved!!” Another voice called behind your back, and you scrunched your brows together. It was close. A cold shiver danced down your spine. 

Heffery Jones.

“Lovely Sweet thing!”

You recognized that drunk voice and your brows furrowed. What a terrible day, you decided. While most of your well-wishers managed to control themselves and not climb the nunnery, this voice was coming too close to her.

You flinched, turning at the figure who was half dangling over the brick, waving too enthusiastically your way.

One of the somewhat poor townsmen, a very young fellow with brown hair and yellowing teeth grinned at your lost expression.

And very drunk. 

“My love, why haven’t you responded to my proposal?” He cried out to you, still struggling on the balustrade. 

“Go home Heffery, your wife works too hard for you to waste it on drinks.” you retorted, your tone flat. You didn’t have the time to state all of your reasons, but that was a start.

Not that it worked.

“Darling, let’s run away and go sail the sea together! My wife means nothing!” He cried, wiggling to try and get over the sharp spikes.

You actually liked Mary Jones and feel sorry you had married Heffery. But it was arranged, like most marriages in town. You were sure the only reason Mary Jones hadn’t run off was her children, who all looked suspiciously like your neighbor, rather than her husband. 

You readied herself, grabbing the laundry basket, in case you needed to throw it at him.

“Heffery Jones, don’t you dare!” The voice of the Mother Superior rang out, startling both of them.

You, for once, were flooded with relief as you heard her call out from one of the many windows. Even if it meant a lecture later, of why you had been the problem. For now, Heffery could take the tongue-lashing of the older woman, for however long it took him to realize he needed to run.

The Abbot didn’t hold much power in the monastery, but he had a den den mushi phone and paid off the local marines for problems like this.  

But Heffery Jones wasn’t known for his intelligence or listening ability, and he attempted to jump over the brick. Even the solid shoe you threw aimed at his face didn’t change his mind.

He still attempted to jump.

And this was only an attempt as he inadvertently sacrificed his fancy waistcoat on a lantern pedestal and flung himself back the other way, into the road. Your shoe met with a satisfying thump and fell to the ground on the other side.

You heard the alarm of the local church regulars and the dismay of drunk sailor men who had followed Heffery from his bar to egg him on, as well as the distant thuds of Heffery rolling down the hill, probably straight back into the bar he had come from.

So you waved goodbye, cheekily.

Mother Superior burst through the side door, just as you finished folding the laundry, hiding ripped sheet at the bottom of the pile.

“That disgusting man! And you, you! Must you flaunt yourself? If you wish to be seen, hurry up and choose a respectable suitor!” 

you knew better than to argue, simply apologizing. Thankfully you weren’t forced to grovel for long, as the Abbot flew through the door, bouncing back from the Mother Superior's large girth.

“He is coming!” He cried, falling into a tumble of robes.

“Great Heavens!” The nun said in tandem, as Abbot cried out his news. “I already chased the Jones boy off!”

A nun followed the father, picking him up from the ground, and the old man wasted no time delivering his news to both of them.

“Not the boy, Mother!” He said with a flourish, slipping around her. 

The Abbot grabbed your hands, gleefully. 

“Your fiancé! He has been chosen! And he’ll be accompanied by a Warlord of the sea!” your mouth fell open, but you stopped herself by biting her lip. 

“Pardon?” you croaked.

Mother Superior cackled in thanksgiving, holding up her hands in praise to the sky. 

“He can afford a Warlord?!? He’s clearly rich and powerful enough to pay for an entire new section of the building!” Mother Superior cried out, picking up the Abbot and spinning him.

The man cried out in alarm, but you felt like you had been the one being spun. you knew the time had been ticking down, but your father had promised your mother, in a written will, that you would be able to choose your husband!

You stepped back, breath getting heavy. The Abbot and the Mother Superior danced around one another, leaving you the chance to dash away, trying your best not to hyperventilate. You flung yourself around the corner fleeing the wide courtyard to the smaller citrus grove. 

Others disliked the mushy ground, laden with rotting oranges, and so you often found respite there.

There on the bench, you raised your lone barefoot to look at the consequences of a very impulsive throw. Not that it hadn’t been deserved, but now you’d have to go beg the gate guard to fetch it for you. 

Or…

You glanced at the old, bolted side gate in the wall behind the last tree. 

If you dare, you could unlock it, dart out, and get it herself. You questioned if it was worth potentially being discovered, but if you were quick, and only to avoid unnecessary drama, it very well might be. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear you sighed, agreeing it was certainly a bad day.

This inner debate was cut short when you heard a thud, near the gate. 

You jumped up, startled, head snapping over.

A shiver ran down your spine at what you had found.

A shoe.

Your shoe.

There, in a space bare of any fallen oranges, lay your shoe.

You dash to the gate, from where the shoe almost certainly came, thrusting your head out of the small space on the top. And you only caught your beneficiary as they turned the corner, the edge of a dark coat.

And you were unsure why such a small glimpse of a simple kind of action made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

You turned, ready to call out to the person, or something.

“Girl!”

You jumped back, throwing on your shoe just as Mother Superior turned the corner and found you. 

“Quit hiding around, it’s time to get ready! Your father wishes to speak with you!”

-XXX-

If there was anything that could make this day worse, it was getting a call from your father. The den den mushi for the convent was not only slow, but your father had become unbearable.

The snail did a great job conveying his disregard for you.

“Do us both a favor, you, and be on your best behavior.” 

“Father-” you began, only to be sharply cut off.

“-While you may not want to be married, you, but there’s no other respectable path for your future. I promise there are much worse suitors who are interested, who wouldn’t care much for your consent.” 

“-Father-”

“Pirates, even.”

You froze. 

“Be a good girl, my dear. I mean, anything is better than one of those Doflamingo boys. I’ve heard that Donquixote is little better than a brute. He’s been looking for a noble bride and has the money. He had no real title, since that debacle, and has been calling me up incessantly.”

Surely your father wouldn’t be cruel enough to consider that? you didn’t dare call his bluff, only to be proven wrong. you had heard plenty about the fallen noble Doflamingos, and you knew that your father was no longer joking. If you pressed him, then he’d make it worse for you.

“You’ll be a darling, won’t you, my dear? Go make pretty eyes at that nice new fiance and make sure you walk away with a ring.”

…

“Yes… father.”

-XXX-

You sat in the citrus grove, finally alone. It was chilly, being outside well into the night with only a shawl, still wearing the day dress.

Fingers clenched in the fine, high-waisted cotton dress, simple but well made. It had been the only nice dress you possessed, but had still needed a quick fitting since you had lost weight as time slipped on. Dainty slippers pinched at your toes, clearly borrowed from someone who had smaller feet. 

Your hair had been groomed till it shone, left mostly up twisted into a pretty pearl netting to keep your face clear of any strays. Even makeup had been acquired.

Not even a week had passed, but you already met your new finacé.

And it had been what you expected. You had hoped that it wouldn’t be an extended meeting with the Noble fiancé because alas, no good were wishes anymore. Ronald W. Canonfire the Fourth was a long-winded, much older man looking for a pretty third wife, just to liven things up, since his other two were getting so old. And he disliked their ‘worn’ bodies since they had had almost twenty children between them.

You grit your teeth and played dumb.

Though you had been engaged, a first meeting tended to be shorter, by tradition. It was mostly to assure the buyer that the bride was as had been showcased to be. And if he approved, which he probably would, the wedding would proceed. And your next meeting with him would be the day you would go down the aisle.

Good Lord.

You couldn’t live that way.

No-

You wouldn’t.

You took in a deep breath, your chest heaving. Surely, this was not going to be the way your life went. Whatever it took, you would not be going down that aisle. You could secretly take the vows, or maybe even slip away, and find work on the docks disguised. Or stowaway!

Anything.

Anything, but this life.

So you stood, unsure of what path you were going to take, only sure that you had to take it. 

And to hear a lock break.

The door on the side of the monastery creaked open.

You whip your head around, confident someone has somehow read your thoughts.And your chest nearly seizes as you brace yourself for whatever is coming.

The first thing you saw, from the deep shadows of the doorway, were well-oiled boots. Followed by dark pants, a rich black coat, and a sleek hat with a feather. A cutting figure, to say the least. His scandalous lack of a shirt was not missed, nor were the cut muscles that gleamed pristine white. 

You take a step back, thinking you should probably call out for help, but are unable to find the words.

There is something downright transfixing about this man, and it’s not just the way his muscles cut down to the downright sinful apex of his pants. 

He’s older, but not much.

Your mouth goes dry.

“Are you going to throw your shoe again?” He has a mild tone, almost bored. “Or should I wait?”

“You-” You mutter in fascination. “You are the man who threw back my shoe.”

He steps through, letting the gate swing close behind him.

“Why are you here?” You ask, perplexed. You might be afraid, but he looks so disinterested that you can’t help but feel a bit calm.

“Are you going to throw it at me this time?” He asks again, a sharp brow raising.

Heck, the man’s entire face was sharp, accentuated by well-groomed facial hair, and generous lashes, held together by a severe expression. 

His unmissable eyes must have seen your first, for when your gaze reached his face, he was already looking at her. 

Startled, you realized they were gold. Gold, and almost alien in appearance. All of these things were eye-catching and startling.

And for a moment, both stared.

But that’s not what you gazed at with an abrupt interest.

Just as he stepped into full view of the single lantern overhead, the light danced off the large metal cross on the man’s back, giving you a view of what must be the largest sword you’ve ever seen.

“Is that a kriegsmesser?” You said before you could stop yourself. “It’s enormous.”

You swear at yourself, as a reminder that the last thing you need to do is start fangirling over weapons, lest you encourage the intruder to use his own. And for it to come out like you is an innuendo.

It truly was a long, horrible day, if this was your best manners.

One of the man’s brows lifted, followed by a slight down curve at the corner of his mouth.

“Yoru.” He answered, and you blinked. “Is hardly so simple as a mere Kriegsmesser. She may be my largest sword, but I’m effective with all I equipt.”

Your mouth tilted in a smile, glee filling your chest, before you managed to clear your throat at his sly joke. Suddenly you were ten again, on the deck of the ‘Sweet Joy’ and practicing your footwork. 

“Yoru,” You repeated, subtly swaying the motions you’d use with such a sword. It sounded familiar, though it had been ten years since you had read anything about swords. “May I see her?” You ask, forgoing all manners, like a bar whore.

This time, the man actually gave a smile, though it was very subtle. 

“It’s not for taming bunnies.” He said, coming a step closer, and glancing down at your feet.

“Lend me your blade and we can test that theory.” You retort sharply, much to his amusement, the way he leans forward.

“I hardly here for a fight with a nun.” He said with a drawl, his tone mildly amused. 

“I am not a nun.” He waved a hand like it made little difference. “Why did you come?” you said cooly, moving to put the bench between you. You hoped he was here to take you hostage, but you couldn’t make it seem easy, and give yourself away.

The man sighed, giving you a long look as if he could read your mind.

“Don’t kid yourself. I heard there’s good wine here.” The man replied, leaning against the door of the outer wall

You blinked.

“I guess.” you said, “But this isn’t exactly a store.” 

“Understood,” He said wryly.

“And the Abbot will also be asleep by now, even for a distinguished gentleman yourself.” You fold your arms.

“Hense the sidegate.” He tilted his fancy hat to the broken side door.

“Rude.” You reply. “I should scream.” You wave a hand.

He moves so quickly you don’t see him place a finger on your mouth until it’s there.

“Perhaps we can come to an accord.” The man said, and you stepped back, slapping the hand away.

“Perhaps, for the right price.” you gave him a long look. “Do you own a boat?”

The man lowered his chin, giving you a hard stare that you struggled to keep, and only did so since your entire life was on the line.

A nod and you assumed that meant yes.

“I need passage off this island. And quickly,” You muttered, lowering your voice and stepping closer. He sighed as if you had asked him to pluck the moon out of the sky.

“Oh? Now why would I ever do that? Even good wine isn’t worth a private ride on my boat.” He said, tone flat. 

“The wine is the best on the island. A vintage from my mother’s last shipment.” You bartered, standing your ground. “My word is good. I have my sommelier certification, and still have an active registration in the Vineyard Guild. I know wine.”

The swordsman looked you down steadily with his gold eyes.

“What’s your mother’s name?” He said, moving to the bench to sit before you, one leg elegantly flung over the other.

“Isabella Gabriella, the captain of the-”

“The wine merchant and you’re her daughter?” You wonder if you should be offended by the long look he gives you, but for some reason it fills you with butterflies, to be seen so thoroughly.

“You knew my mother?”

“Very well, girl. You’ve piqued my interest. Let’s make a deal.” He lifts a hand, gesturing to the monestary.

“I require two crates of wine for your passage to the next island.” He says, and you look at him harshly.

“This wine is worth at least a trip to the Grand Line.” You counter, fingers clenching your arms.

“Now why would a bunny like you want to go to the Grand Line? Surely you don’t think well-bred girls such as yourself are better off there than here?”

“If wine isn’t enough, then I’ll fight you for the honor of riding on your boat. If only to prove to you I can handle myself. ”

“Fight? You, a little bunny?” He said, this time you knew you had amused him, by the way the corners of his mouth raised. 

“I doubt I could defeat you, swordsman, but I’m not a girl. But if I can land even a single blow, would that impress you?”

“Very well.” He said, folding his arms. “This is hardly an appropriate venue. When an opportunity arrives, we’ll see what you’re made of.”

You lower your arms, placing your hands flat against your dress. Better for him to underestimate you now.

“Fine. When and where?” 

The man stood, turning to the gate, practically making you follow him out.

“It bores me to wait, so be by the docks to my ship by next nightfall. And only come if you manage to get the wine, girl.”

“I’m not a girl.” You say, and then clearly annunciate your name, but the man just walks down the cobblestone road, away from you. “What’s your name?” You call out, brows furrowed, arms holding the door to not clang.

“Dracule.”

He doesn’t look back.

And as you swiftly go back into the monastery, already planning your escape, you can’t help but get the notion that you’ve heard that name before.

[readerg1rl]

Will you be my hero?

Fem!reader, mdni, 18+ content

hawks×reader

Hawks -> orange

Y/n -> pink

Sum: you get a new job at Hawks's hero agency, hawks sees you and instantly falls in love, soon enough you move in with him

Enjoy

You just started working as an assistant at Hawks's hero agency, this is your first week working, and its going amazing, you can't believe that you can be accepted here

You have made friends with your colleagues and it seems that everything will be perfect except this lunch break hawks few down in style and had a cofe with your colleagues and you

He is kind of cute

He talks with full confidence, making jokes and having fun with his colleagues, then his eyes land on you and he becomes silent and blushes a bit. He clears his throat and greets you

"Hi you must be new, what's your name"

"Hi im y/n"

"Nice to meet tou y/n"

He smiles and continues chatting, soon enough he gets a call and flies trough the window... Welp, what else would you expect fom a grownup child

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

Soon enough your shift is over and you get called into his office so you can have quote on quote "work chat"... Well that is risky

You slowly rise up to the top of his hero agency building and enter his office

He has a big wooden table in the center with a classic black chair that spins

As soon as you enter his office his eyes rise from his pc and land on you, he has a big smile on his face now

"Hey y/n"

He flies from his chair to you

"hi hawks" you say bit shyly

"you can call me keigo"

You blush

"So, im having a bit of a work party to celebrate me being the second best hero in japan, you're invited" he hands you a card with information

"Thanks, I'll come"

He looks at you excitedly "Im happy. So, time to go home huh?"

"yeah"

"I know, let me change for a second and then i can drop you off at your place if you want to"

"i don't know... I don't wanna bother you"

"Oh it would be a pleasure to drive you"

You smile "okay then"

You wait and look around his office, you see some endeavor posters and his photos with him, so he is a fanboy huh?

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

He comes to his office with baggy blue jeans, red shirt and a zip up black hoodie, sexy

You go down to his car in a weird silence and he opens the car dor for you, it's one of older Ferraris, must be really expensive

He closes the door for you and fastly enters the car, he turns on some slower music and starts driving

"where do you live"

"i live on the other side of town..."

"and every day you take a bus, that's unacceptable for such a pretty young lady. If you want to, i can drive you to and from work."

"i really don't mind taking a bus"

"come on, it will be fun"

"I don't wanna be a bother"

"you will never be a bother"

You keep on chatting and he is constantly making you blush, soon enough he drops you off at your building and opens the door for you

" see you tomorrow?"

"if you insist"

"I insist"

He gets into his car and waves you goodbye as he drives off. Every day from this night he is driving you to and from work, you wonder to how many ladies he has done so you ask him the next time

"I don't really drive anyone"

"don't you have a girlfriend"

"All of them are gold diggers, i don't want that, i want a nice girlfriend who will love me for who i am"

"that's nice to hear, do you have eyes on anybody?"

He looks at you and blushes then he turns to look at the road "not really..."

And you continue to chat like nothing happens

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

It's Saturday, today is the party

Hawks dressed in a blue suit with white shirt and black jeans, gosh he knows how to dress, he opens the door for you and holds his hand up so you can grab it to sit easier, and he kisses it

"m'lady"

You just smile and blush awkwardly

"i will drop you off home so you can change"

"thanks"

You chat about the party and there will be just the colleagues, his sidemen and him

You dress in a pretty non revealing dress, you like to tease people's imagination a bit. As you exit the house his eyes practically shine from happiness

He exits hic car to carry you to it and sits you in like a baby princess, he seems in love

You arrive to the party and get greated by your friends and you sit with them, hawks walks away for a bit, he is still a busy person

You chat and chat with your friends drinking just one glass of wine, you don't wanna get drunk now. As soon as you finish your glass hawks appears from behind you and whispers into your ear

"i wanna show you something"

You blush and just nod, excusing yourself from the table

You get to a big balcony and he lifts you into his arms

"hold tight"

"okay" you just realised what is gonna happen

He lifts both of you into the sky, flying as smoothly as ever so that he doesn't make you scared

"do you like the view?"

"it's beautiful"

"i have been thinking and wondering for a long time... I never really wanted a special someone and as my eyes landed on you that day at the break my whole body shivered at the looks of your beauty, seeing you so focused on work, dressing not provocative and not drinking a lot really adds up but, you also have a great personality so... Would you be my... Girlfriend" he asked strongly blushing and looking away, as soon as you heard the word girlfriend you blushed too

"I don't see why wouldn't i, but isn't there anybody else who is at least more successful than me?"

"who cares?"

"if you say so"

He leans to kiss you softly on your lips, its the most electric kiss ever

"the view is beautiful but you are more gorgeous than any view in the world"

This makes you blush, soon enough you two lovebirds get back and join your friends. For the whole night you just think that this is all a dream.

Later hawks brings you home and kisses you goodbye

You keep on working and dating him, after few months he invites you to live with him, you say yes

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

"so.... Do you wanna sleep in my bed or... Do you want me to set you up in an other room"

"it doesn't really matter" you are blushing hard right now by the thought of sleeping with him

"so my bed it is"

You blush hard, he too

He helps you with your things and night arrives soon so its time to wash yourselves and end the day

You go first, and try not to take to long, you dress in the bathroom as you are still bit embarrassed by the thought of him seeing you in the towel

He goes in and takes a bit longer, probably it's the wings, he comes out in just his pj bottoms and drying his hair with a towel, you blush hard by seeing him

His physique is amazing, his arms abs and chest are so well shaped, you just wanna kiss him all over

He lays next to you in bed after he dries his hair

"im so happy"

"i know, me too"

You two cuddle for a bit and fall asleep

The days keep on going like this

One day he showers first and you forgot to bring your pjs with you so you wrap yourself in a towel and exit the bathroom to grab your stuff so you can dress, as soon as he looks at you he covers himself with the blanket

"baby, i thought... We have been dating for quite a while... I wanted to talk to you about... You know..."

You blush hard just by the thought

" do you wanna lay down?"

You just nod and slowly still covered in the towel lay down next to him in bed

"if you want to then sure, but... Im embarrassed"

"no need to be embarrassed"

You seem uneasy

" we don't have to if you don't want to, there are many opportunities for this"

"yeah, no... Let's do it"

His eyes shine in happines

He slowly starts kissing your lips giving you a soft french kiss before moving to kiss your neck and coming to the towel

He looks with his more primal side

"may i?" He asks with his hand nearly touching the towel so you just nod

He unwraps a towel and slowly starts kissing your breasts and kissing your nipples before playing with them, softly licking and nibbling

Then he plants more kisses down your stomach as he slowly arrives to your inner thigh kissing it and gently nibbling it and laying his head in between your legs. He looks up at you with the most primal look you ever seen and he starts licking your pussy and sucking on your clit

He rises from your pussy to take off his pants and reveal his hard member, he slowly lays his hips on yours and starts rubbing it against your pussy

After making you wet as ever he slowly aligns his throbbing dick at your entrance and slowly starts pushing it in making you moan and squirm a bit, starting slowly and slowly speeding up

As you squirm he places a kiss on your chest and with one hand holds both of yours over your head

He fucks you faster every now and then teasing you

"oh baby, you are so good~"

As you both get to the climax he pulls out to cum on your stomach and proceeds to finger you perfectly so you squirt before collapsing onto you

"time to get washed up birdie"

[lovinglylibelle]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭

-navigation || masterlist-

pairing: Dabi x fem! reader

genre: angst

description: what happens when you encounter dabi and hidden secrets from the past are revealed?

requests: OPEN

tw: graphic mentions of wounds as a metaphor, heavy emotional dialogue, a lot of past trauma, mentions of crime and the reader calls Dabi out for being dramatic.

a/n: been thinking about this idea for a while, had pretty good dialogues in mind for it too lol. Finally got around to writing it and kinda got carried away, i hope you guys like it. It is kinnnndaaaaa intense? not VERY intense but yeah. If you guys end ul reading it, can you pleaaaaaaaase reblog and like? it would mean a lot to me and would increase my reach tooo :))))) thank you lovelies, have a great day, XOXOXO

What are you, if not a tapestry of memories and stories woven delicately together, forming you, creating you, giving you life?

They were a part of you whether you liked it or not. No matter how much you wanted to forget some of them, they were burned into your mind like a brand on a horse. But what's worse was that some of them festered, rotting away slowly as a painful reminder of the past, unable to heal.

One such memory was Todoroki Touya, a friend of yours from your childhood. You grew up together, had big dreams... the only difference was that his died, and yours thrived.

The threads that wove to form his memories were charred, a permanent burnt hole in the center of your arras.

You tried to ignore it, but every little thing reminded you of it, of him, and worsened the festering wound his absence had left on you. But there was no need to scratch that wound again and again, no matter how desperate you were. He would have loved to be a part of this mission.

Sighing, you got back to the task at hand: a mission to tail Dabi as the rest conducted their raid.

His quirk was particularly worrisome and caused devastation left and right, a fire that burned loud and blue. Its intensity was unfathomable, the temperature surpassing even that of Endeavor's. And with the oncoming battle, you couldn't be more careful.

"What's the status, Keigo?" you asked in your comms that connected you to your partner for the mission. He was your oldest friend, and together you had reached where you were at this point.

"He is closing in on the left alleyway, your 9 o'clock," he said, and you nodded, discreetly following Dabi while maintaining your distance.

It wasn't rare for you, jobs like these. You were the undercover hero, the one who did work without the public glory. Not that you wanted it... you just did it to save those who couldn't defend themselves.

"Take your next right, and you will be onto him," he said, eyeing both of your moves with his feathers.

"On it," you said, following his directions until you could finally see Dabi's figure walking just a few hundred meters from you.

The alley was dimly lit with a yellow flickering streetlight overhead. A pungent smell of stale water lingered heavily in the atmosphere, making you almost choke due to the stench.

You made sure to keep him in your line of sight, taking every turn with Hawks as surveillance until your path was blocked by a stray cat that had toppled over a trash can with a loud crash.

Cursing under your breath, you sidestepped it. You walked ahead only to realize that your subject had disappeared from your sight.

"Shit. Hawks? Come in, Hawks?" You said in your comms, continuing down the path.

"I've lost sight of the target... Where is he?" you questioned, keeping your voice low.

There was static on the other side, making your eyebrows knit in concentration as you tried to figure out what he was saying.

"Y/n- ... Dabi-... careful-.... h-he...-" and with a click, the comms disconnected.

"Hawks should really try to be more discreet with his feathers, even a cicada is better at hiding." Footsteps echoed in the uncomfortable silence of the alleyway.

You swore, turning around only to come face to face with the person in question... with a burning red feather in his hand.

"Dabi."

The notorious villain himself, one of the worst ones you had ever seen.

"In the flesh... burnt, but hey, technicalities," he replied, a smirk on his face.

You observed him from your distance, watching his moves and preparing yourself for any and every possible attack.

"Calm down, sweetheart, I don't bite," he said, stalking closer to you as he noticed your alertness.

The alley was narrow, with little space between its walls. Movements were restricted for both of you, so you tried your best not to engage.

"Even if you do, I am prepared." You stood rooted in your spot, careful not to wrongly analyze the situation and trigger any response that might cause harm.

He whistled, moving closer to you as his feet stomped in a puddle of muddy water that splashed so loudly one would think something dropped and drowned.

You moved a step back, refusing to let him get close to you. It was a challenging situation because you knew that Dabi was good at both short and long-range attacks.

"Damn, haven't you gotten feisty... never thought I'd see the day," he laughed, combing a hand through his hair.

"Try anything, and you'll see just how feisty I can get," you warned him. You couldn't show fear in front of him. Even the littlest sign of intimidation would make you the prey, and him, the predator.

"Good one... I am impressed," he smiled, his face unsettling you.

Something about him, though, was familiar, but you couldn't place your finger on it. Maybe it was the way he moved, or perhaps a familiar shift in his posture. The way his shoulders hunched, how he turned his head just slightly before he moved—you’d seen this before in the distant past... long ago, but where?

"You know... I never thought I'd see you again," he said.

See you again? What? As far as you knew, you had never met him in your entire life...

"Stop playing games, Dabi. They won't work, and do not take another step closer," you said, raising your hands as you got ready to use your quirk.

"Gonna use your quirk now? Oh geez, you wound me..." he was mocking you, his smirk widening.

"Is that how little you think of me? After everything we've been through?" he said, a look of faux betrayal on his face, which irritated you.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to let his words dig into you. You were told that Dabi was good at mind games, twisting his words just enough to make you question yourself. But this time? You wouldn't let him.

Instead of responding, you took a slow step back, your fingers twitching as you considered activating your quirk. His eyes followed your movements, that unsettling grin never leaving his face. He wasn’t attacking, not yet. He was waiting—biding his time, testing your patience.

But still, his voice crept into your thoughts. The way he said, "after everything we’ve been through," felt too... familiar. Like a half-forgotten memory clawing its way back to the surface.

"You'd be surprised," you taunted him, knowing it was dangerous... but still pushing it.

You blinked, but everything happened too fast. One moment, Dabi was mocking you, and the next—his hands were on yours, gripping them with a force that sent a jolt of panic through your chest.

Your back collided with the cold, rough brick wall, stealing the breath from your lungs. A sharp sting spread across your shoulder blades. No. How had I let him get this close? The heat of his breath mingled with the stench of the alley, suffocating you. But it was his eyes—those blue flames, so close—that paralyzed you in place.

"Oh yeah?" he said, his face just inches away from you.

He brought his other hand up, pulling out your necklace that was tucked inside your suit by its chain.

"Then why do you still wear this?" he tugged on it, his eyes boring into yours.

Somehow, you felt yourself pinned by his gaze, entirely focused on you. There was something about it that felt too personal, too deep, and you didn’t dare look away.

"Do not touch it," you seethed, struggling against his hands but to no avail. He was stronger than you, and you hated that.

"I gave it to you, and I can't even touch it? Come on now," he said, scoffing but dropping it too... too gently for it to be normal.

"What the hell are you saying?" you asked him, stopping for a moment.

"What do you think I mean?" he whispered, eyes narrowing as he urged you to mull over his words.

You glared at him, not giving him the satisfaction of a response.

"Well, that hurts," he laughed, and suddenly a manic smile etched onto his face, and for the first time throughout this conversation, you felt terrified.

"Try, Y/n, try! I know you can do it!" he yelled, his eyes looking at you crazily.

You were breathing hard, trying to make sense of his senseless rambling as his eyes bored into yours—a shade of cyan, just like... just like Touya.

Your heart raced, pounding against your ribcage as if trying to break free. No, it couldn’t be. Touya was gone. Dead. They had found his bones. You had mourned him. But those eyes—how could you forget those eyes? The same haunting cerulean gaze from your childhood. It sent a chill down your spine. Could this really be him?

"Touya..." you breathed. The word felt foreign on your tongue, like you were trying to summon a ghost. Your heart stopped for a second, refusing to believe what your eyes were telling you.

No. It can’t be.

He tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Ding ding ding. Took you long enough," he said with a manic laugh, but the sound rang hollow, like it wasn’t just mockery but something much more.

Your gaze flickered between his, trying to make sense of it all and find pieces, if any, of Touya Todoroki in him. It had been years since he disappeared. Years since the flames took him away from you. And yet, here he stood—not the boy you had known, but something darker. Something broken. The weight of it pressed on your chest, each breath growing harder to take. The necklace that was once a reminder now felt like a heavy weight against your collarbone, choking you.

Your heart was racing as you tried to process what had just happened. How could this be the same person? The boy you once knew, who had laughed beside you, was now this... this monster. What had gone so wrong? A wave of nausea hit you, grief and anger swirling together, but you forced yourself to stand tall.

He released your hands, observing your face as if he could read your mind, your every thought. You felt exposed, but at the same time, it was he who looked vulnerable.

"Stop it," he said, his face solemn... bearing too much similarity to Touya even with the piercings and burns.

"Stop what?"

"Trying to find Touya in me. He is long gone," he said, a hint of grief in his voice that, if you didn’t know his former self, you would have missed.

But everything inside you broke loose as you scoffed at his words. You were angrier than you had ever been, and your self-restraint was struggling and thrashing to break loose.

"You think I can't see that?" you said, staring at him in disbelief.

"You’ve killed hundreds of people," you hissed, pushing him with every word. "Ruined thousands of lives. Hurt too many to count." You paused, your voice catching in your throat. "And you think—" You pressed a trembling finger to his chest. "You think I would dishonor my Touya by comparing him to you?"

Your voice wavered, betraying your anger, but beneath that anger, there was something else—a plea for him to deny it. To say it wasn’t true. That he wasn’t this... but all you got in reply was silence.

"And you did all that for what?" you spat. "Just because your dad didn’t give you enough attention? Oh please, spare me, Dabi. All you had to do was talk."

Your throat hurt from the pressure of unshed tears, grief controlling every fiber of your being as you continued.

"And what about me then? Wasn't I right there for you? Didn’t I support you? I waited months for you to come back, hoping that maybe you were out there, but you didn’t... and I was a child too!" you cried.

"And now—" you swallowed, wiping at your tears. "Now you're here, hurting the people I care about, all because you lost control of your fire—"

"That's not true!" he interrupted, anger flaring in his eyes. He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. You flinched, your pulse quickening as his anger burned into you.

"I came back. I came back! I went back to my house, but you all had already pronounced me dead!"

"Then what did you want them to do, Dabi? They found your bones! Charred bones! How could they have known you were alive? And couldn't you have come to find me? Is that how little I meant to you?" you asked him, your face a mess of tears and dirt.

He took a deep breath at that, igniting a little hope in you... Was Touya still there?

"I blamed myself. If only I had been there and stopped you, my Touya would have been alive... I had nightmares, thinking about how scared you must have been when the flames went up around you, how painful it must have been, and I couldn't forgive myself," you confessed, your silent tears turning into sobs.

The wound that had been rotting for so long was now exposed, throbbing with pain as you applied a searing knife to it.

"If I had known that Touya had turned into something as horrifying as you... I wouldn’t have wasted my time," you said, the wound in your soul now burning.

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!" Dabi yelled, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

"You know nothing!" he said, panic in his voice. His hands were scratching at his neck out of frustration, picking at the burnt skin of his jaw. He was getting agitated, and the surroundings were heating up with him.

You could feel the warmth rise, a sense of suffocation dawning on you.

Tears of anger collected in his eyes, threatening to spill, while his hands went back and forth through his hair. You almost felt sorry for him, wondering just how much he had misunderstood to turn out like this. What had he gone through these past years to become... this? Should you even pity him?

"You don’t know what I went through! I was—I was discarded, used, and thrown away! You will never under—" he was saying but was interrupted as the comms crackled back to life.

"Y/n!? Where are you? Y/n, do you copy?" a worried Keigo hurriedly asked.

"I'm coming to get you. Stay where you are!" he added.

You mentally cursed the timing of it all, and as you felt the atmosphere cool down, your gaze lifted to see Dabi. The vulnerability that had briefly surfaced was long gone, replaced by the emptiness that you had first witnessed.

You could feel your heart drop; the Touya you were trying to bring back was now completely gone.

Before you could say anything, though, you heard Hawks' voice calling out to you from above the alley, catching your attention... but as you turned around to say something to Dabi, he was long gone, leaving you in the wake of him as the wound inside you resumed festering.

taglist 🏷️ : @quirrrky @asunflowerana (send an ask to be added xoxoxo)

[ariesqueencobra]

what we used to be | XV

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: You didn't think joining Miyagi-Do would end your friendships. But thankfully, you're making new ones.

Warnings: dojo rivalry, karate training, swearing, mentions of heartbreak

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: A short chapter but its a good one! Have ch 16 done but I'm gonna give it some time to post cause then it'll give me time to edit ch 17. But we're closing out season 2 with ch 17 and season 3 is next! I already have up to season 4 planned out and a little written, still brainstorming for season 5 and even s6 lol!

Thank you to those who already reblog and comment, I see you and I love you all for it!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

You frowned as another message to Aisha and Tory went unread. A few days ago, they were blowing up your phone, asking if you were okay. You were guilty that you didn’t respond, but you were going through so much heartbreak. You didn’t want to bother.

Now that you were part of Miyagi-Do and you felt happier, you decided it was time to reach out, the only thing—your friends weren’t responding.

Defeated, you walked through the dojo, phone pressed against your ear as it rang. Relief filled you when Aisha answered.

“I’ve been worried sick, you guys haven’t been answering,” you began.

Two voices scoffed.

“So now you’re worried?” Tory asked in disbelief. 

“Of course, I am,” you furrowed your brows. “You guys are my friends.”

“Funny, I didn’t know traitors are classified as friends,” Aisha accused. 

Confusion filled you. “What are you talking about?”

Tory muttered under her breath and she was annoyed, allowing Aisha to answer.

“We saw you hanging out with Miyagi-Do the other day and we confirmed with Moon that you joined,” Aisha said.

“We thought you just left Cobra Kai, but joining the enemy?” Tory questioned, disappointment filled in her tone.

“I didn’t think I was going to join Miyagi-Do,” you defended.

“So what? You accidentally joined?” Aisha scoffed. “Sorry about you and Hawk breaking up but joining Miyagi-Do is a low blow. Enjoy your new friends,” she said before hanging up. 

You stared at your phone in disbelief. 

“Everything alright?” Sam asked, holding onto the punching bag to stop it. She glanced at you with wonder, her brow raised and blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Aisha and Tory completely blew me off, some friends,” you shook your head. “Sorry, I know you don’t like Tory.” 

You frowned, knowing their history. But after what had happened, you didn’t like her so much either.

“Don’t apologize, if they can’t see you’re trying to be better, then that’s on them,” she shrugged before going back to her warm-ups, her punches becoming stronger. 

You shrugged off your backpack, warming up alongside her until the rest of the guys showed up. 

Mr. LaRusso was nowhere to be seen and with the summer heat, you all made it under a tree in the dojo. Still, the shade wasn’t enough to keep you from burning.

“Oh God, it’s so hot out,” Demitri gasped. “I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know had pores,” he wiped his forehead against your shoulder.

You grimaced at the sweat, shrugging him off.

“Alright guys, get out from under that tree. It’s time to work,” Sensei said. 

You all groaned as you got up, the small movement troubling in the excessive heat.

“Mr. LaRusso, it’s like 100 degrees out,” Robby complained. “Can’t we take it easy today?” He was saying what you were all thinking.

“Are you kidding? This heat wave is a gift. Today you are going to experience Shochu-Geiko,” he smiled.

You arched a brow.

“Like the car insurance?” Chris asked.

“Shochu-Geiko is a Japanese exercise where you train during the hottest days of the year,” he explained. “It’s about pushing yourself to the limit. The fight isn’t always gonna come when it’s 75 degrees and breezy.”

“Aren’t we supposed to avoid the fight?” Sam questioned.

You nodded. The whole reason you joined Miyagi-Do in the first place was to stop fighting.

“Sometimes you can’t,” he sighed. “Someday, the fight might come to you. And I want to make sure you’re ready,” he gazed hopefully. “So today, we’re gonna see what Miyag-Do is made of.”

That’s how you found yourselves formed in a circle out front. The sun beating down as Robby stood in the center, waiting for Mr. LaRusso to call out a number. 

“Two!” 

One of your classmates ran towards Robby but he punched him right in the chest, sweeping his leg and sending him to the ground.

Everyone reassembled.

“Five!”

Sam blocked Robby’s kick before spinning around and landing one straight on his abdomen. “Got you,” she smiled, their gaze lingering.

You sent Demitri an amused glance, one he didn’t match as he let out a groan.

“Alright, Demitri’s turn. Come on, Demitri get in there,” Sensei encouraged.

He reluctantly sighed before going in the middle. He raised his fists before Mr. LaRusso called a number out.

“Three!”

It didn’t take much for Chris to punch him in the stomach. 

Figuring it was just a rough beginning, you waited for the next number, which happened to be yours.

“Seven!” 

You lunged towards him. You wanted to give Demitri a chance to fight you off but it was so easy sweeping your leg and watching him fly to the ground. 

“I hate this!” Demitri groaned. 

“Alright, get up!” Sensei encouraged.

You offered your hand, helping him up. “Sorry, Demitri.”

He reluctantly forgave you, putting his weight on you as you made it back to your spots.

“Can we please take a break? This heat is brutal,” Sam sighed.

You all agreed.

“You guys want to cool off?” 

“Alright, I think I can accommodate that,” he grinned.

You were hoping for a trip to the pool, not a freaking freezer storage.

“So, you couldn’t take the heat of Shochu-Geiko, perhaps you’ll find Kangeiko more to your liking,” he smiled with that same grin from earlier.

You shivered as you stood in the middle of the room, regretting you wore a tank top today.

“There are no “geikos” that take place in a spa?” Sam asked, the cold evident in her breath.

“It’s not about the heat or the cold. It’s about adapting to the environment around you and using that to your advantage” he said. “Look around, what do you see?” 

“Frozen London Broil?” Chris asked.

You snickered.

“No, not the meat, look past that. I see the exhalation of breath,” he pointed to Sam. “The twitch of a muscle,” he glanced at Robby. “The shift of a stance,” he pointed to Demitri. “If you lean into the cold, it will heighten your senses,” he said. “And then you’ll anticipate the moment before your opponent strikes and you’ll always be ready,” he concluded.

You understood what he meant, noticing signs too.

His phone began ringing, hesitating to answer before he told you all to circle up, taking the call. 

Now ready, you stood in your place. You watched Sam move about in the circle, looking out for obvious clues. She blocked Chris’s strike before Robby’s turn. They both battled, neither hitting the other and they stopped as they got lost in each other’s eyes.

You used to look at Eli that way. Your heart ached, memories flooding through but they were interrupted when Mr. LaRusso interrupted.

“All right, let’s get Demitri in there,” Mr. LaRusso said.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” he sighed. “Literally.” 

He got kicked right in the stomach.

You sighed out in slight disappointment, knowing he had it in him.

“I can’t do it, Mr. LaRusso. Between the cold and the shouting and the hole in my sock. I’m not sure when that happened but it’s really uncomfortable,” he began complaining.

You rolled your eyes. Knowing your friend, he always had something to complain about.

“Demitri, you are the most neurotic person I know. You always expect the worst,” Sensei approached him.

Demitri sighed in agreement, a bit reluctant about it though.

“But you can use that to your advantage. It means you anticipate. Think of it like a spidey sense,” he stated.

“Actually in the comics, they call it Spider-Sense,” your friend corrected.

“Look, Demitri, this isn’t about who’s fastest and who’s strongest. It’s about instincts, using what’s in here,” he pointed to his head, your friend getting it now. 

With some confidence, he took his stance, raising his fists.

“Two!” Mr. LaRusso called out.

Demitri noticed Chris, blocking his first strike and his second before he punched him in the gut.

You cheered for your friend, and the rest of the class too.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get the next person.

“Baby steps! It’s alright!” Mr. LaRusso reassured.

You patted Demitri on the back, the rest of the class crowding around you.

~

“Sam and I are more like acquaintances than friends,” you said.

It was unexpected to have Moon reach out. Knowing your situation with Aisha and Tory and now barely knowing Sam, it was good to have a friend.

“I’m sorry about telling Aisha that you joined Miyagi-Do, I didn’t think this rivalry was that bad,” she said, frowning as she sat on her bed.

“Don’t worry about it, I guess I would’ve had to tell them sooner or later,” you shrugged, sitting across from her.

“Listen, I’m glad we’re doing this, I really meant what I said about being friends. I did want to give you space though,” she offered, tipping her head to the side.

“Thanks, Moon,” you smiled. 

It’d been a few months since she apologized before the All Valley. You never considered reaching out, still hurt that she wasn’t true to her word about showing you she was serious. But now she is and better late than never, right?

“So how are doing? With the breakup and everything?” She searched your eyes.

“Heartbreaking,” you hummed self-deprecatingly. “Eli was the first boy I ever loved, love,” you corrected. “I have karate as a distraction, but honestly, sometimes I just want to reach out,” you sucked in a breath. “Am I crazy?” You glanced at her.

“Not at all,” she shook her head. “It’s normal to experience that after breaking up. And considering how long you’ve known Hawk, your souls are connected. Best friends, boyfriend-girlfriend, first loves,” she listed, growing giddy. “I can’t imagine having a close bond with someone and it would suck to be apart even if it’s for the best,” she explained.

“That makes sense then,” you raised a brow. “The longest I spent without Eli was when he’d go to sleepaway camp with Demitri. That was only for a few weeks, this has been almost two months,” you hummed, shocked at the realization. “Thanks for being a friend,” you smiled genuinely.

“It’s nothing,” she giggled. “But as a friend, I have something I want to give to you,” she said, reaching under her bed and pulling out a wrapped gift. “I had this saved for the right moment. You’re right when you said talk is cheap,” she handed it to you. 

You hesitated, eyeing her weirdly before you took it and unwrapped the gift, finding a lime green sketchbook.

“Moon, you didn’t have to,” you gasped slightly.

“I did,” she stopped you. “I hurt you, Y/N. I destroyed your property and I can’t undo what I did, but I want us to start new,” she sincerely said.

You grinned, leaning in to hug her and you felt happy as she returned it.

“Thank you,” you beamed. “It does mean a lot.”