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mickeyswhore · 1 year ago

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Just A Nobody

A/N: might feel silly and write a Part 2 of this, lmk if I should.

Summary: Homelander wants you, and you find an unlikely ally in Soldier Boy, at least that's what you think.

Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: not a lot of smut, manipulation, degradation.

GIF by @coppoladelrey

You started working at Vought while you finished college, Ashley needed a new assistant and she wanted someone young to be able to relate to the younger demographic that you represented. To say that your job was a nightmare was the understatement of the year, everyone treated you like a doormat, especially people in the Seven, except Starlight but when she left you were in the lion’s den again.

You had a system of how to navigate the supes, if it was The Deep, never be in a room alone with him under no circumstances. If it was Noir, it didn't matter because he never talked to you or anyone else for that matter so he was harmless, A Train was a mess and Ashley was very strict with you, never do any favours for him so you stayed away, Queen Maeve was always unpleasant with you so you stayed away. The only person Ashley said that you needed to do anything they asked was Homelander, which resulted in him rentelesly flirting with you.

The different ways that you were avoiding him were insanely creative, you knew that no one could stop Homelander if he decided to attack you so you had to rely only on yourself and your intelligence. You were constantly stressed, every time you went to work you were on the verge of a panic attack and you were so close to quitting when Vought took it upon themselves to pay for your college.

“Ashley? What is this?” You were so pissed, you had written up your resignation letter and everything.

“You’re welcome are the only words that should be coming out of your mouth right now, darling.” You despised her tone, it was filled with a superiority complex.

“I didn't ask for this.” You protested.

“It wasn’t me, alright? It was Homelander! You made quite an impression on him, if I were you I’d express some gratitude.” She left, tears were already running down your cheeks. Homelander basically owned you and he would come back to claim you.

After freaking out and hyperventilating for hours in Ashley’s office, you decided to take a sick day and go to your apartment. You needed a way out of this but you had no idea of how yet, you took the subway and went home after warning Ashley.

At home you were thinking about what to do, if you ran away Homelander would eventually find you. He found his son and the mother and was with Vought’s help, you wouldn’t even last a day. While you were freaking out and thinking about all of the worst possible scenarios Ashley was blowing up your phone.

WHERE ARE YOU?????

SOLDIER BOY WAS FOUND

NEED YOU HERE STAT

NOWWWWWWWWWW

You thought that Soldier Boy was dead since before your father was born, maybe Ashley was mistaken? Maybe Vought being in disarray about this person would clear you from being away from Homelander for a while. You got up from your sofa and you were ready to get back to work and deal with Ashley almost having a mental breakdown. When you opened the door you saw him there, your blood ran cold.

“Homelander.” You whispered and he smiled, his smile always unsettled you. “What you’re doing here?” You had no idea that he knew you where you lived, that made you so fucking scared.

“I wanted to explain myself, I paid for your college tuition and we barely spoke before.” He entered your apartment and looked everywhere, you felt so violated.

“It’s gonna have to wait, Ashley needs me.” You were about to touch him so he could leave your apartment but his facade fell.

“She can wait.” You felt the urge to cry but somehow you didn't.

“Not really, Soldier Boy is back.” That was the first time you saw Homelander scared, and for a second you were more afraid of Soldier Boy than Homelander. Who was he that even the strongest man on earth is afraid of? “So I really need to go. You understand that, right?” You had no idea what he was going to do, you sighed relieved when he got out of your apartment.

“It’s fine, I’ll take you back to the tower.” Homelander motioned for you to follow him and you looked confused.

“No worries, I’ll take the subway.” He invaded your personal space and got inches near your face.

“I’m trying to be a gentleman here, girl. I said, I’ll take you.” Homelander was definetly getting off on the fact that you were scared of him, the way you smelled when you were scared and he didn't hide the fact that he enjoyed it. You simply nodded and the two of you walked in silence outside.

Outside, Homelander scooped you up and flew with you that made you so scared but you didn't even had the mental capacity to scream. You were at Vought in less than two minutes, you were about to remove yourself from Homelander when he kept you in place.

“Meet me in my room at 10, hm?” He smiled wickedly at you and released you. It felt as if you couldn’t breathe and Ashley’s words were repeating in your head:

“If I were you I’d express some gratitude.”

You knew what was implied but you didn't want to do this, why it had to be you? Why couldn’t Homelander just find you unnatractive? You were just a nobody, why couldn’t it continue that way?

Ashley was waiting for you, and apparently all of the testing proved that it was Soldier Boy. How he was able to look the same age or get captured are questions that need to be answered. The two of you entered the room Soldier Boy was being held, Ashley needed to talk to him about all of the optics, how he was going to be in the Seven, if he insisted on it. Vought was more than happy to keep him under wraps, you can’t really control a supe, no matter how hard you tried.

Soldier Boy had his head down, he didn't look at Ashley when she introduced herself and started rambling about PR and how to mitigate the situation and you could tell that he wasn’t interested in the slightest. That’s when he looked at you, and the look he gave you was not one you describe, no one ever looked at you that way before.

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice boomed around the room and Ashley stopped talking instantly. “I’ll talk to her and her only.” Soldier Boy pointed at you and the two of you were speechless. Ashley quickly left the room and the two of you were alone, you sat down in the chair that your boss was sat a couple of seconds ago.

“Why do you want to talk to me?” You whispered, you have no idea why you had the courage to speak first maybe because since Homelander wanted you in his room, you had nothing to lose.

“I want to know what you do you think I should do, doll?” He looked genuinely interested in your opinion, but the reason behind it was totally lost on you.

“But why?” The look on your face could only be described as utter confusion making Soldier Boy laugh.

“You seem the only person I’ve seen so far to have integrity.” That took you by surprise and you simply nodded. “So? What do you think I should do?” He asked again, this time it seemed that was impatient.

“Well, you’ve been tortured by Russians all this time. The thing that seemingly makes the most sense is getting revenge?” It sounded more like a question than a statement and Soldier Boy picked up on that.

“You’re not sure? Speak up, woman.” He banged his hand on the table and startled you, making you jump slightly.

“If I was you, I would take the time to decompress and enjoy something before going on a suicide mission killing everyone that wronged you.” You said rather quickly and he grinned at you.

“You’re not wrong, doll. Tell Vought that I want a private island, and if you want a promotion you can come live with me and be my handler, I’ll need one since mine is fucking dead.” He laughed and you were about to refuse when Homelander’s demand for you to be in his room flashed in your mind.

“Alright, I accept.” If that meant being as far away from Homelander as possible, you’d accept whatever job in a heartbeat.

“Great to hear, sweetheart.” Soldier Boy smiled at you, there’s no denying that he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Are we done here?” He spoke in the direction of the glass, you could tell that he was annoyed but he wasn’t as scary as Homelander, you felt at ease with Soldier Boy.

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You didn't leave Soldier Boy’s side, the deadline to meet Homelander was approaching and if you were with a supe that wanted you near there’s nothing that Homelander can do, right? So you took full advantage of your brand new position, Ashley was annoyed about the fact that she needs a new assistant. But she wasn’t about to go against Soldier Boy, so she kept quiet.

Homelander was not happy about your new predicament, he was supposed to have you all to himself. He was looking for you, but you were packing all of Soldier Boy’s clothes that Vought even after all this time, that was very handy. Packing was always something that brought you peace, so you were humming your favourite songs whilst doing this chore. You gasped when you realised that Homelander was right behind you, he was angry you could tell that much, you looked around and realised that Soldier Boy probably went to the bathroon so you were all alone with Homelander.

“Let me get this straight, you’re going to jump on Soldier Boy’s dick the moment I pay for your college tuition? Talk about being an ungrateful brat.” He walked slowly towards you, and you took a step back.

“It was a job opportunity, a really good one…I…” Homelander raised his finger to stop you from talking.

“No, no.” He got closer to you, this was it. He was going to kill you, he raised his hand and caressed your cheek. “You’re not his, you’re mine.” You started crying, that’s when you heard someone clearing their throat.

“Do we have a problem here?” It was Soldier Boy and you were relieved, Homelander was pissed and your saviour was as cool as cucumber.

“No, we do not.” It was the first time you saw fear in Homelander’s features, and he quickly got away from you and he left without saying another word. After he left you sat down in Soldier Boy’s bed and sighed relieved.

“What’s going on between the two of you? Do I have to kill a supe to keep my handler?” Soldier Boy snickered and you let out a small laugh.

“He…always wanted…me.” The awkwardness seeping through every pore of your body makes you cringe. “He also demanded me to be in his room now…so…he came to talk.” Soldier Boy had a strange look on his face, the only thing that you could place was jealousy? That wasn’t possible, he barely knew you? You just ignored it.

“He’s never gonna bother you again, don’t worry.” Soldier Boy placed his hand on your thigh and it felt…nice. You knew that Soldier Boy was attractive, but him being comforting? The icing on the cake.

“Thank you, Soldier Boy.” You gave him a genuine smile.

“Ben.” You looked at him confused. “My name is Ben.” He clarified and the two of you smiled.

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

You and Ben, as he insisted to be called were now in this private island. You realised quite quick that besides some members of staff that took care of cooking and cleaning, the two of you were all by yourselves. But other than that, you had the most amazing bedroom ever, it was bigger than your apartment and you couldn’t be happier to be away from Homelander.

Ben was always flirting with you, he never stopped. He was also touching you constantly but it never made you uncomfortable, it felt natural to have that intimacy with him. Your days consisted of just making sure that Ben was comfortable and if Vought had any plans for him, which they never did. That made the supe on the edge, you could that he wanted something and you had no idea what.

Until you found out.

It was raining, so neither of you left the house. Ben still hasn’t come out of his bedroom which was odd, he was the first one to wake up at 5 AM. You needed to ask him about what he wanted to eat, so you approached his door before you could knock you heard his gruntings and moaning, he was masturbating in there.

“I know you can hear me, doll. I can smell your arousal from a mile away.” You got caught and there was no way out, so you opened the door and there he was was, his dick was huge, it felt that it should be on a porn actor not a super hero. “There she is, why don’t you come here and let me fuck your mouth, huh?” It felt that he had power over you, so that was exactly what you did.

When you took his cock in your mouth, Ben grabbed your head and started fucking your throat. You tapped his leg so he could slow down but he didn't, you were gagging around his cock, it was painful but he never slowed down. Tears were running down your face, and you could hear Ben’s grunts and moans.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum doll.” He warned and you felt the thick ropes of cum and that made you gag but you did your best to swallow it all, after you were done, you looked at him and he was trying to catch his breath.

“I knew that I made a good deal with Vought.” You looked at him confused. “They let me keep you to do whatever I want in return I don’t appear in public.” He kissed you but you didn't have the ability to kiss him back. “If I was you, I’d warm up to me real quick. There’s nowhere for you to go, and remember sweetheart, you’re just a nobody.” He laughed and went to clean himself, it was going to be a very different stay on this island now, Ben would make sure of it.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy #the boys fanfic

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happylikeasadsong · 6 months ago

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save it for later x sydney's decision

so we all know the song save it for later is everywhere this season so logically i was paying close attention to whenever the song would come out and try and read more into it.

i'll be analyzing eddie vedder's cover, released exclusively for the bear season 3.

let's dive in

of all scenes where they played it in, the one that really stuck to me was when it played in the bg while she was having a coffee with shapiro and he was offering her the job.

i saw this meta doing a deep dive in the fourth wall theory by @brokenwinebox that's based on @thoughtfulchaos773 meta on it too and they mentioned the songfacts interview where dave wakeling explains what the song is about and i couldn’t help but be even more intrigued by the meaning behind the scene in episode 7.

“So it was about being lost … and you'd have all sorts of people telling you this, that, and the other, and advising you, and it didn't actually seem like they knew any better. So it was like, 'Keep your advice to yourself. Save it for later.'”

so we know syd has been feeling under appreciated ever since carmy decided to take over the menu and started disregarding most of her ideas, if not all of them.

we see her talk to all people involved. we see her having her dad say the partnership agreement is flimsy, nat and cicero both having a friendly chat with her before telling her to sign the agreement, pete says is a good thing, carmy is being carmy, and then shapiro adding to her anxiety saying he wants her to run this new place and it all sounds incredibly good, but he plans to move fast…

it should be an easy decision if you look objectively at the situation. she’ll be getting a better pay, benefits, creative control and freedom to do as she likes, she’ll be seen as a partner from the jump, no circling around it, no doubts. chef adam shapiro wants her.

but chef adam shapiro doesn’t know her. doesn’t know her story or how she’s like. he doesn’t know about her failed business. and he definitely doesn’t know her history with carmy.

so for him i think this is a chance to have the cdc who’s working with carmy berzatto, the prodigy chef. it would look wonderful on paper. but he doesn’t know her.

sydney on the other hand has seen multiple articles on the near where they only show or talk about carmy’s accomplishments and gives only him the praise both of them should be getting.

i think that having her name erased from the restaurant she put her blood, sweat and tears in cause carmy was nowhere to be found, frustrates her even more (deservedly!).

sydney's lost. she doesn't know what to do or which path to follow.

all of these people around her don’t know what’s she’s going through because she won’t talk to anybody about it. she’s saving it for later, at her own demise.

she’s being pulled in all these different directions and she’s lost, she doesn’t want to leave her found family, but the offer is an opportunity for a fresh start in a place where she knows she’s gonna be running things as she sees fit and have the freedom to allow her creativity to flourish again.

cry, cry but i don’t need my mother just hold my hand while i come on a decision on it

this line makes me think she will eventually open up to someone that will help her once she finally makes a decision.

which can be her dad. he’s been calling and asking her about it and she said it herself her dad is the person in her life she can count on.

i don't know how i’m meant to act with all of you lot, sometimes, i don’t try

she gets tired of trying to reach carmy so she just detaches herself to make it through the day. we see that happening in ‘doors’, ‘violet’ and ‘legacy’ where she just accepts his final words and moves on, even though she’s frustrated.

sooner or later, your legs give way, you hit the ground save it for later, don’t run away, don’t let me down

we see her reaching her lowest in the last episode. quite literally, her legs give way and she hit the ground, cause she’s been bottling up all these feelings for so long that she cannot hold it in anymore.

we see flashbacks in her mind showing the family she found in the restaurant, she saw them grow so much with her these past months, they’re her family and she doesn’t want to runaway and let them down.

don't run away, don't run away, don't run away x4

this part of the song you can feel the desperation on eddie's voice, it's not an easy decision to make, running away.

she doesn’t want to let anybody down. that’s her biggest fear. so she says she’s gonna think about chef adam’s offer, she nods in agreement when nat and cicero tells her to sign the partnership agreement. she agrees when pete says it’s a good thing cause she doesn’t want to let anybody down, she can’t. and this takes a toll on her we see manifest in her panic attack.

for the second part of the song is where my delusion swoops in lmaoo

now, as i said before, the person who’s she’s finally gonna open up about her struggles can be her dad, but reading the lyrics, makes me want it so bad to be carmy.

maybe im projecting too much, idk, but it really fits them so perfectly.

two dozen other stupid reasons why we should suffer for this? don't bother trying to explain them just hold my hand while I come to a decision on it

i don't know why, but these lines makes me imagine a scene where they’re finally talking about their feelings and she express her frustration with carmy for the past months, she talks about how leaving is the best decision objectively and gives him her reasons.

she seems set on finally making a decision, but she needs him to help her through it cause this is the hardest thing she ever had to do.

she’s letting him down and she’s running away because this is the best thing for her right now.

why don’t you hold me? why don't you and kiss me now? why don't you just hold me?

as a hardcore sydcarmy i’m holding out hope for that big sydcarmy fight that’s for sure coming the next season so that we can finally see how they react to one another when they finally say what they’ve been meaning to say all this time.

hold me and kiss me now run away, run away and let me down x4

in this final part of the song eddie's voice sounds like he came to acceptance that she's leaving. he just needs to hold and kiss her to see her out.

maybe carmy will understand her reasonings and will let her know it's okay for her to go and find better things for her and though i'm a firm believer she's not leaving in the end, i think this would be a nice alternative solution to her problem if it comes to it.

sydney's so afraid of letting everybody down that she never thought they might want her see her happy in other places and that that's okay to leave. i don't think she has considered this option yet.

anyways this is just my first analysis on it, i may have to revisit once i think more on it. i'd love to know if anyone has thoughts on it too, i'd love to read them!

#sydney adamu #sydcarmy #syd x carmy #save it for later #the bear #the bear meta

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devils-dares · 2 years ago

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The Key You Wear

summary: you get a voicemail from your ex, who is very much not well. you visit him the next day to make sure all is well (spoiler alert: it's not)

pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

warnings: angst, blood, injuries, depressive episode, mentions of a breakup, crying, kissing

wordcount: 1864

a/n: i vote we start a "dev needs a hug" campaign because the way life has shitted on me recently is preposterous, lmk if there's any errors, i'm still sleep deprived and also it was like 2am when i finished this

-----

Exhaustion had a way of creeping into the depths of your body, and finding a home within the ache of your bones. Matt and exhaustion were long time acquaintances, with the mental portion setting in throughout his day job and the physical aspect at night.

He slipped up. Majorly. He didn’t notice the fourth guy, not until he was already overpowered by the first three, and he had, to put it lightly, been beaten to a pulp. He could count about four broken ribs and a fractured wrist, among a concussion and a few other things.

He didn’t go out tonight, he hasn’t gone out for a few nights, his apartment is a mess of take-out boxes and empty gauze wrappers. There’s empty beer bottles placed on his coffee table, another open one in his hand.

He’s tired, so tired. The minutes are bleeding together from the perpetual state of intoxication he’s allowed himself, and he hasn’t shown up to work in three days, which he brushed off as healing and meditation time.

Matt’s phone dangles between his fingers, his hand hanging off the couch just over where the most recent pile-up of containers are. He thinks, searches his mind for what went wrong. Clearly he’s drunk, because his mind wanders to you. It’s three in the morning, and he finds himself sitting up on his couch and crying because you’re not here.

It was his fault, just like everything else, he thinks. You’d asked him just for a few days off of the night shift, and he disagreed, raising his voice at you. It wasn’t until you walked in on him in a state quite close to this one where you realized it was out of your control, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

That was a year ago, when you’d emptied out the drawer in his dresser he’d reserved for you and walked out. The dresser was still empty, he remembers, as deft fingers scroll through his phone, pausing when the voice-to-text reads your name.

He shouldn’t have done it. He really shouldn’t have, but he clicks the call button before his mind can catch up with his actions, and his heart sinks a little when you don’t pick up. Then again, it’s three in the morning on a Friday night, you weren’t going to pick up anyways. He leaves a half-assed voicemail, slurring voice mixing with tears as he tells you exactly what he thinks, and he’s sure his sober self would slap him silly if he could hear how pathetic the message sounded.

He shut the phone off and chugged the rest of his drink. He turned over, groaning out when he lay directly on a few fractured ribs, and he doesn’t remember anything after that.

-----

When he wakes, the smell of fresh air greets him. There’s no longer a stench of days old food, or the collection of empty bottles on his coffee table. He can hear movement in the kitchen, quiet humming. There’s a certain scent in the air from whatever’s cooking, and he sits up slowly, praying he isn’t imagining you right now.

You look over and see Matt’s head peek over the back of the couch, his hand braced on his side. Grabbing a glass of water and some painkillers, you make your way over to him.

“Take these, it’ll help with the inflammation too.” You say, and he takes them gratefully. After taking a sip of water and allowing the throbbing in his head to grow to its peak, he finally speaks.

“You’re here.” He says, dumb comment, but he meant to phrase it like a question.

“Yeah, I heard your message this morning. Sounded serious, so I thought I’d stop by.”

“And you’re still here because…?” You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

“As much as we might be over, I still care for you, Matt. And I couldn’t stand to see you like that. Speaking of, you need a shower.” He nods.

“What time is it?” He asks as he rises to his feet.

“One in the afternoon. I did your laundry, by the way, clean clothes are put away.”

Matt’s floored. Not because he’s confused on why you bothered to come or still care, but you cleaned up for him, you’re taking care of him and he doesn’t know what to do or how to cope other than to get that fluttering in his stomach again.

“I’ll- I’m gonna go shower, thanks for doing the laundry.” He walks away as quick as he can, admittedly not that fast, so he doesn’t hear your response.

You hear the shower start, and it’s almost automatic that the tears flood your eyes. God, you love him, you still do. It hurt you immensely to see Matt down in the dumps, not a care in the world about himself or his life. You wish you could shake him out of this trance, wrap him up in a hug and not let go until you get the man you fell in love with back. You gave yourself this break, let your tears flow knowing that Matt would probably smell the salt in the air as soon as he got out.

He’d forgotten what panic he felt whenever he sensed your tears. It’d been so long, and the last time you’d cried he was the cause. He rubbed out the water from his hair with a towel as quickly as he could after throwing his clothes on, and he threw the bathroom door open to find you sniffling and scrubbing relentlessly at the kitchen counters.

Matt walks over to you, taking the dishcloth out of your hands. You glance up at him, he looks so much fresher and so much like your Matt that you’re thrown for a second. He’d trimmed his beard to its usual stubbly length, and the dried blood on his face was gone.

“Why were you crying?” He asks, and his voice is impossibly soft coupled with the hand that comes up to cup your cheek makes tears burn at your eyes again.

“Just been a while, missed you a little.” He hums.

“Would it be okay if I asked for a hug?” You nod at his request, and he pulls you into his arms just before the first tear rolls down your cheek. You ball his shirt up in your fists, and you’re very aware of how embarrassing the situation is, crying in your ex’s arms. His hands rub your back, and you aren’t sure how long he holds you until you separate, but the ache in your chest makes it very clear that you wish he held on for just a little longer.

“Thank you for coming.” Matt says, his hand resting on your bicep and you’re sure he can feel the absurd amount of heat that just flushed you.

“It’s nothing.”

“It is, you had no reason to come back here, not after… not after how I treated you.”

“It was a year ago. We’re both adults, Matt, and you’ve already apologized.” He hums his agreement.

“How’d you get in, by the way?” The question causes a blush to flush your face, and Matt’s interest in the answer increases tenfold.

“Do you remember when we had that conversation about moving in? I really wanted to but my lease wasn’t up yet so you gave me a key to your place anyways? The night I left, I forgot to leave it here, and then I just didn’t have the heart to return it.” You fish your necklace out from underneath your shirt, his key dangling from it.

His heart breaks into a million pieces, and his only solace is the fact that you kept it. He remembered both of those events like it was yesterday. You couldn’t stop smiling when he gave you the key, and he rubbed at the back of his neck, unsure of what to do until you threw your arms around him and tugged him into you for a kiss. He’d never had a relationship that made him yearn for the future until you.

“I guess I can leave it here today, yeah?” You say with a laugh, but your voice is deeply rooted in sadness, and Matt knows that if you leave without that hunk of metal with you, it closes the door on whatever past and future sits in the thick tension between the two of you.

“You should keep it, for emergencies, you know.”

“For emergencies?” You laugh, looking confused.

“Yeah! Anything happens, pipe bursts or you need a beer or whatever,” he’s rambling, turning red, and you can’t help but get the same flutters he was feeling earlier unbeknownst to you, “you can always come here.”

“That’s what I have friends for, Matthew.” You sass back.

“They don’t have shitty beer.”

“Neither do you, seeing as you drank yourself out of your stock.” Your hand slaps over your mouth.

“I’m sorry, that was so mean.” But Matt’s already shaking in silent laughter.

“Yeah, it was mean. Well deserved, but definitely mean.” He smiles down at you, a full grin, and you take a few moments to appreciate how happy he looks, his developing crow’s feet making you unbelievably happy that he’s getting laugh lines.

“I missed you too, you know.” He takes a step forward, bringing both of his hands to rest on your body.

“How much?”

“My life fell apart.”

“That was happening with me here anyways.” His smile falls, and you wince at your quick quip comeback.

“Ouch.” He says, withdrawing his hands.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No, it’s the truth. It’s okay.”

“Matty,” his breath hitches when the nickname slips from your mouth, “you’re a good person, and sometimes humans are complicated and we get angry about things we’re passionate about. Look, that night, it was a year ago, and I’m ready to move past it if you are.”

“I’m not ready to move past you.” You’re pretty sure you stop breathing for a few seconds.

“Matthew-”

“Just listen to me for a minute, okay? There hasn’t been anyone after you, and there won’t be. You are the one I want to spend my life with, and it’s okay that you don’t want to. I just need you to know where my head is at.”

“Are you done?” You ask, he nods, and suddenly he’s gasping as the collar of his shirt is yanked in a tight grip and- oh. Your lips are on his and his hands are on your hips and your hands are in his hair and he’s been dreaming about this moment since the day you left. He pulls you close, your body flush with his, and he tries his best to convey all his emotions into this one kiss.

You pull away first, chest heaving for air, and the smile on your face matches that of the one on Matt’s.

“Well, that was something.” You say.

“That it was.” That’s all he says before kissing you again.

The talks about the future and the complications this causes can happen later, but for now you’ve got Matt back in more ways than one, and he’s never letting you go again.

#matt murdock #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x male!reader #matt murdock x male reader #matt murdock x gn!reader #daredevil #marvel

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katnisspeetaprim · 2 years ago

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I'm Not Quitting.

Kim Namjoon/Reader

Summary: Namjoon gets fed up of always being apart from you, so he asks you to quit your job...

Warnings: established relationship, idol!au, angst, smut, unprotected sex, cockwarming.

Word Count: 1947 M.list

You sighed in relief as you finally stepped through the threshold of your home. You lifted one of your feet up and rubbed at the sore pad caused by your heels.

‘Joon are you here? You wouldn’t believe the da I’ve had.’ You shouted into the apartment, stretching out your arms as you walked.

You passed by Namjoons home studio as you moved to the bedroom. Peaking your head inside, you saw him lazily pushing buttons as if he wasn’t really focusing on the task he was working on.

‘Hey Joonie.’ You smiled, walking towards him. Since he wasn’t wearing headphones, he whipped around in his chair. He had a deep frown on his face as he stared at you.

‘You ok?’ You asked, confused by his expression.

‘You’re late.’ He deadpanned.

‘Ugh don’t remind me.’ You flopped down on the small sofa in the corner of the room. ‘I tried to get out early but then we had a load of new client info come through.’ You pulled your knees up and leaned your head down to rest on your folded arms on the arm rest of the chair.

‘I’m here now though.’ You smiled lightly, staring up at him. He had yet to say another word to you, still giving you the same look, before scoffing and shaking his head.

‘Yeah I’m sure you tried real hard to leave.’

‘What?’ You lifted your head up in shock, not expecting his harsh tone. He sighed, taking a deep breath to calm down before he said something he would regret.

‘Listen. I think you should quit your job.’ He announced confidently, gaze unwavering, even when you fully sat up in shock.

‘What do you mean I should quit!?’ You squeaked out, not understanding why he would even suggest that.

‘You always complain about it, plus we hardly spend time together since you got that promotion.’ He argued, throwing his hands up in the air, as if he didn’t understand why you couldn’t understand.

‘Joon I worked hard to get that promotion! Of course I need to put a few more hours in until I get situated!’ You were now on your feet, voice raised as you looked down on him. You felt your blood boil when he rolled his eyes and turned back to his monitor.

‘Whatever.’ He mumbled.

‘Hey! You don’t get to do that!’ You hissed, grabbing the back of his chair and once again spinning him to face you. He couldn’t bring up a serious topic like that, then just try to end it. No way. Namjoon sprung up as soon as you touched the chair, causing you to jump back.

‘What do you want me to say Y/N!?’ He exclaimed, taking a step towards you. ‘You don’t need that stupid job, I can support you, give you anything you need. I don’t get why you wouldn’t want that.’ He continued to rant as you stood there wide eyed with you back against the wall. The silence was heavy when he stopped talking. Only sounds being both your shallow breathing as you stared at each other.

You stayed for a moment longer, before leaving the room without a word. You speed walked to the bedroom and started throwing a few essentials into an overnight bad. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you refused to show any weakness in front of him after how he’d spoken to you.

All you wanted to do after work was spend a relaxing evening with your partner, maybe have a nice dinner and talk about your day and see where the night goes.

You seriously had no clue where this mentality of his had come from. A few weeks prior when you came home, crying tears of joy at receiving the promotion you had worked your whole career for, he was simply ecstatic for you. Pulling out all the stops to make sure you celebrated properly, so what’s with the change of heart?

‘Y/N? What are you doing? Don’t be rash...’ He tried to grab your arm as you packed, but you shrugged him off.

‘Y/N please just talk to me.’ He pleaded, starting to panic slightly.

‘And say what Joon?’ You sighed without looking back at him.

‘I’m not quitting my job and being your stay at home pet.’ He winced when you said that, brows scrunching together.

‘You know that’s not what I meant..’ He mumbled, refusing to meet your gaze. You scoffed but decided to say nothing as you picked up your bag and walked to the front door, once again putting on your uncomfortable heels. He shuffled up behind you and just stood there with a defeated look on his face. He knew there was no point in trying to convince you that night, knowing how badly he’d screwed up.

‘I’m gonna stay with a friend tonight. You looked over your shoulder to see his shoulders drop and nod sadly. With that, you walked out the door and drove away.

When you had shown up at Yoongi’s apartment well past midnight, let’s just say that he was less than pleased, though he still allowed you to stay without much of a fuss. He could see you were upset and he wasn’t about to send his friend away into the dead of night.

You sat on Yoongi’s sofa the next morning, nursing a strong cup of coffee to fight off exhaustion, as you didn’t get much sleep the night prior.

‘Are you planning on going home today? Namjoon’s been texting me.’ Yoongi walked over and sat next to you.

‘You told him I’m here?’ You groaned slightly, looking over to him with a glare.

‘Obviously I told him. He’s worried and knows he was an idiot last night.’

‘I’d use stronger words than idiot.’ You chuckled slightly.

‘Isn’t that the truth.’ He mumbled, agreeing with you before sighing.

‘Listen. Just go home and talk to him. He’ll listen, you know he will.’ Breathing out a sigh you nodded.

‘Yeah. You’re right.’

Yoongi helped you to re pack your bag and walked you to the door. You pulled him into a quick hug.

‘Thank you for letting me stay here.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make a habit of it.’ He joked light heartedly.

‘I don’t plan to.’

As soon as he heard the click of the door, Namjoon was on his feet in a flash, meeting you at the door.

‘Hi.’ He tmidly spoke, unsure if he should speak first or not.

‘Hi.’ You simply replied back. There was a beat of silence.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I figured you would want some space.’ You nodded and tried to hide your smile at his thoughtfulness. You dropped your bag to the floor with a thud, before looking him in the eye.

‘I’d like to talk now, if you’re willing to listen. You spoke pointedly.

‘Yeah, yeah, of course!’ Namjoon stammered as he gestured for you to lead him to the living room couch. Namjoon was shocked when you reached out and took his hands once you were both sitting. He didn’t expect you to be so willing show him affection, but he wasn’t about to question it.

‘I’m gonna talk, and I just want you to listen for now, ok?’ You asked softly. He nodded quickly, gesturing for you to continue.

‘I know I’ve been taking more hours, but it’s only temporary whilst I get on my feet at my new position.’ You paused for a second, thinking about how you should phrase your words.

‘I’ve had to go through months of being alone when you are on tour, so I thought you of all people would understand.’ He looked away, ashamed at how hypocritical he had been. You had always been amazing when it came to his career. Never once complaining when he had to leave, and even taking the time to visit him on tour on multiple occasions.

‘I’m not quitting my job.’ You said definitively. ‘ The last thing I want is to be dependant on you. Coming to you when I want to buy something or even go out with friends. It’s humiliating to think about.’ You cringed just thinking about it.

When you didn’t speak for a few moments, Namjoon took that as his cue.

‘I know I was wrong to ask that of you, especially since I know you love your job.’ His voice wavered slightly and he freed one of his hands to wipe at a tear that threatened to fall.

‘I’ve been stressed and overworked and I know that’s not an excuse.... But I’m sorry.’ He poured his heart out to you. You could tell that he genuinely was sorry and didn’t mean what he had said.

You smiled and cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at you.

‘If you want to make it up to me, you can cook for me tonight.’ You teased with a smirk, letting him know he was forgiven. Namjoon sighed out in relief and leaned into your hand.

‘I’ll cook for a whole year if you wanted me to!’

‘Don’t be dramatic.’ You giggled and leaned in to kiss him. You had only meant for it to be a quick peck, but he latched onto you and pulled you forwards to straddle his lap, deepening the kiss as a result. The sudden movement took you by surprise, but you soon relaxed into the kiss. Bringing your hand up, you ran your fingers through his short hair, tugging slightly and making him groan out. You smirked against his lips when you feel something pressing against your inner thigh.

‘Something on your mind?’ You teased, pulling away and biting you lip to stifle a laugh.

‘Always you.’ He grumbled lowly as he started to grind himself into you. You both wore thin clothing that morning, so you could feel everything.

‘I just realised it’s been a while since we’ve done this.’ You said breathlessly as you alsow ground down on him, hands gripping his shoulders for dear life.

‘Yeah.’ Namjoon stuttered out. His fingers dug deeply into your hips before he suddenly pushed you away.

‘Fuck. I need to be inside you right now.’ He frantically started to push down his trousers and underwear, whilst you stood and disregarded everything from the waist down. He held his hands out to you, beckoning you to climb back onto him, which you quickly did.

He lined himself up and you lowered yourself down onto his length.

‘Damn, I’ve missed this.’ He moaned out, head tilted back as short breaths left his mouth. You nodded in reply and leaned in to capture his lips in a deep kiss as you began to move.

The two of you had either been too busy or too tired to even think about sex recently, so you knew that neither of you would be lasting very long that morning. That didn’t matter though/

The moans from the living room got louder and more frequent as you both came undone, entangled in each others arms. You lay your head on his chest whilst you caught your breath. His arms tightly locked around your body as he placed loving kisses on the top of your head.

After a few moments, Namjoon made to lift you so you could both get cleaned up, but you clung tightly to his body, unwilling to move just yet.

‘Let’s stay like this for a while. I like feeling you inside me.’ You whispered against his chest, suddenly feeling quite sleepy. He chuckled slightly from above you, and lifted his hand to stroke your hair.

‘Anything for you baby.’

#bts #bts x reader #imagine #one shot #scenario #reaction #drabble #smut #fluff #angst #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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sevi007 · 7 months ago

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Tales of the Abyss playthrough part uh. 24.

I'm writing a book here!

(It's a picture book no worries)

Huh?

(you wanted to marry him not too long ago, Anise)

GUY! The man!

I mean, he basically just said "he's an idiot, but he's MY idiot" - but that's alright. I could cry right now - and I'm sure Luke could too. What a - well, a guy! Sorry the name is silly! But he's the best! Literally the only one in a whole team who believes in Luke after all this still (which is a little sad, but makes it all the sweeter).

Yes? That's why he is going? Genuine confusion.

And the other Luke is just - what. Because he is a replica, he is nothing? That's a poor choice of words there, Natalia. The past seven years shaped Asch and Luke into extremely different people, which you even commented upon yourself. Luke is his own person, just as Asch is.

(I'm sure she has no ill intentions here, and I am not blaming her here. I'm starting to feel like the idea of a "replica" being a different person from the original is giving the party a hard time to wrap their minds around, especially since they are still angry at Luke for Akzeriuth.)

Lemme hug this man.

Better yet, let LUKE hug this man.

Secret detected! Did Van tell him what exactly? I'm making googley eyes at Guy.

Oh maybe Asch did something to Guy when he was a God-General? But no Guy was already with Luke at the time... It must have been something that happened before the kidnapping, but that would mean Asch could not have done much, he was a kid.

Either he was simply an AWFUL charge to look after for Guy (which seems silly) or the Fon Fabre family and Guy have... I don't know. Blood vendetta between families? Romeo and Juliet situation? XD

Ouch. The party really needs to wrap their minds around the fact that seven years are not simply erased by the entire replica situation. Luke has grown into his own person in those years, while Asch had to face a lot (probably horrible) things and has become a different person than he was.

This is no "hooray we got OUR Luke back!" situation, there's a lot of trauma behind that.

See, this is why I think Natalia cannot be blamed even if she is sometimes callous or unthinking. She is really trying hard to be a good princess who helps the world - not only her own people - but she was sheltered, just like Luke was. It seems Asch was not quite as bad as Luke was, back as a kid, and had his eyes a bit more open, understood a bit more - but they are kids. They mess up. They don't know everything. They can be cruel by saying things without thinking. And these guys especially - they are children forced to carry the weight of a princess' title and a duke-son's title on their shoulders, with all the politics that come with it. That's no easy job!

Oh hell, he IS traumatized.

Great job Van, you fucked not one but TWO teenagers in your care! (Three if we add Tear)

@ahsokaisawesome

@magicmetslogic

#sevi plays tales of the abyss #tales of the abyss #tales of the abyss spoilers

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sooniessoulmate · 6 months ago

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𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚗 - 𝚂𝟸 𝙲𝚑.𝟷 - 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚘𝚝𝟾 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

♥️𝚜𝟷 𝚖𝚕 ♠️ 𝚜𝟸 𝚖𝚕 ♦️𝚌𝚑.𝟸♣️

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷 : 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚏𝚞𝚕

The shooting subsided leaving an eerie silence. YN skipped down the upstairs hallway making her way up to the rooftop.

She stood in the doorway, silently watching Seonghwa and Wooyoung who were still looking down on the lawn. YN took a deep breath, forcing some tears out before running out and exposing herself.

“I did it,” she cried, “I killed him.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung quickly turned around to see her standing before them with blood all over her clothing and tears pouring down her cheeks.

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Wooyoung asked running over to encompass her in a soothing embrace.

Yn pretended to cry into his shoulder, “no I wasn’t hurt, I never killed anyone before, Wooyoung it was awful. I’m gonna see his dying face every time I close my eyes.”

Wooyoung rubbed her back in a comforting way, “oh baby, you had no choice. He wasn’t gonna stop coming until someone took him out.”

“I’m so sorry I’m not stronger or as tough as you,” yn continued. “I thought I could handle doing this but I guess I was wrong.”

“But you did handle it, you did it better than me,” Wooyoung continued rubbing her back. “I failed when I tried to kill him but you managed to finish the job. It’s ok to be a little upset about it.”

Yn pulled back so she could look into Wooyoung’s eyes, “were you upset when you…when you…when you first did this?”

“I don’t remember,” Wooyoung sighed. “I was only five but I'm sure I was a little upset.”

“You killed someone when you were five?” Yn gasped

Before Wooyoung had time to respond, Mingi ran onto the roof. “Seonghwa,” Mingi said, breathing heavily, “Hongjoong was hit.”

“Where is he?” Seonghwa asked racing towards the door leading inside.

“Your office,” Mingi said in between deep breaths.

Seonghwa didn’t say another word, he instantly rushed to his office. Wooyoung started to chase after him, yn grabbed his arm pulling him back towards her. “I want to hear the rest of your story later,” she whispered into Wooyoung’s ear while squeezing his ass with her free hand.

Wooyoung nodded but said nothing before continuing to chase after his boss. After Wooyoung was out of sight, yn looked at Mingi with a crooked smile.

“Why are you so bloody?” He asked.

“Oh Mingi, it was awful,” yn started, forcing tears out once again. “I killed somebody tonight.”

“That’s awful,” Mingi sighed.

“Have you ever been through this, Mingi?” Yn wondered.

“Maybe,” Mingi nodded, “killing never gets easier. Hopefully you’ll never have to do it again.”

“I sure hope I don’t,” yn cried, covering her face with her hands, fearing that she’d subconsciously smile.

Mingi rushed over to yn, wrapping his giant arms around her slender body attempting to lend some comfort. “It’ll be ok, everyone here will do anything they can to get you through this.”

“I appreciate that so much,” yn said, burying her head into Mingis chest.

“I really mean that too,” Mingi announced. “I know I’d do pretty much anything you want me to and I know the rest of the guys would too.”

Yn took a deep breath before pulling back to look at Mingi. She pretended to force a smile as a tear streamed down her cheek, “I think you might be the sweetest person that I have ever met in my life.”

“I’m not really this sweet,” Mingi huffed looking away.

“But you are,” yn argued.

“NO I'M NOT!” Mingi yelled.

“Ok ok,” yn nodded unsure of what brought the heavy emotion out of him.

“Isn’t this a sight for sore eyes,” jongho snarled walking onto the rooftop. “Mingi, you’re needed downstairs in the boss’s office.”

“What for?” Mingi asked.

“Go!” Jongho snarled.

“Fine,” Mingi huffed releasing yn.

Before Mingi could walk away yn whispered, “I’m not this sweet either.”

Mingi looked back at her a little confused but walked off without saying another word.

Jongho glared at yn a few moments before speaking, “hmm, it seems you went through quite a traumatic event, didn’t ya?”

Yn nodded as tears continued to stream down her face, “it was truly awful.”

“Which part was worse for you?” Jongho started. “Watching Wang's life drain from his body or coming to the realization that he was telling the truth about you this whole time?”

Yn stopped the tears, looking at jongho, surprised, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied.

“So tell me, did you kill him to get revenge for woo or to keep your secrets safe?” Jongho asked.

Yn cocked her head as a red glint flashed through her eyes, “You know every single person is a fool, insane, a failure, or a bad person to at least ten people and I’m all of the above,” she smiled.

“What?” Jongho asked.

An evil smile overtook her face before she screamed out, “oh my god, Wooyoung help me!!”

Yn quickly pulled Jackson’s gun out from where she previously shoved it and shot herself in the thigh then quickly tossed it at jongho’s face. He instinctively caught the weapon, mid air before coming in contact with his face.

Wooyoung ran onto the roof, rage instantly taking over his body when he observed yn laying on the floor bleeding from her thigh and jongho holding a gun. “What the fuck?!” He snarled.

“Wooyoung help me,” yn pleaded. “He’s trying to kill me.”

Wooyoung pulled his 9mm out from his pants, aiming it at jongho.

“Listen man,” Jongho started. “She’s a crazy bitch, she shot herself.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Wooyoung growled cocking his weapon.

“That’s the gun wang pulled on me downstairs,” yn cried.

Wooyoung aimed his gun at jongho’s left knee cap and pulled the trigger causing him to fall to the ground.

“Jesus Christ Wooyoung,” jongho screamed.

Wooyoung didn’t hesitate, he pulled the trigger two more times until the gun jammed.

“What the fuck is going on?” San growled running over to jongho who was slowly losing consciousness. “Stay with me.”

Wooyoung ignored San, walked over to jongho aiming his gun at his head, “I hope you’re ready to meet your maker,” he snarled.

San stood up, blocking jongho from Wooyoung. “Yo man, you need to fucking stop now!”

“He shot yn, he needs to fucking die,” Wooyoung yelled. “Now get out of the way!”

San grabbed the gun in Wooyoung’s hand, “you should tend to yn,” he said trying to distract Wooyoung, “I think she needs you. I’ll deal with jongho.”

Wooyoung hesitated, glanced back at yn laying on the ground with blood soaking her pants, causing him to run over to her.

Once Wooyoung became engulfed in tending to yn, San picked jongho up and carried him off the roof, bridal style. He ran down into Seonghwa’s office. “We need to get jongho to the hospital,” San announced.

♥️𝚜𝟷 𝚖𝚕♠️𝚜𝟸 𝚖𝚕 ♦️𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝♣️

♥️♠️𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽♦️♣️

@stayatinykatsy @vampiregirl215 @xuchiya @veebyvee

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leffee · 7 months ago

Note

How Vinnie’s friend would react to him falling and just laying there.

Pepper: "HA, Vinnie, you're really taking this 'laying down on the job' thing to a whole new level! Need a pillow and a remote control?"*laughing* wait, wait Hey, Vinnie, did you just discover a new yoga pose, or are you auditioning for a role in a slapstick comedy? Either way, you've got my attention! Okay, Vinnie, this is starting to look less like slapstick and more like drama. *Walks up to Vinnie a gently kicks him with her foot* “Just making sure you're still with us. Whew, I see you breathing. Scared me for a second there dude!”

Penny: Vinnie, are you okay? Oh my gosh, why are you just lying there? *runs over and hugs his head tears welling up* Please be okay, please!"*pauses, hearing Vinnie's mumble* "Wait, did you just say something? Oh thank goodness, you're okay!! Don't scare me like that again, Vinnie!" *starts crying instant tears of joy*

Russell: *observes Vinnie for a moment before walking over* "Hey, Vinnie, you good? That was quite a tumble. Need a hand up?" * Vinnie mumbles* *Russell noticing Vinnie is breathing and appears unharmed, he sits down beside him* "Alright, you're still kickin'. I'll just keep you company then." *he pulls out his book and starts reading, occasionally glancing over at Vinnie and patting his back.*

Sunil: "Vinnie! Hey, are you alright?!" *not getting a response, Sunil starts to panic* "Vinnie! Answer me, man! Don't mess around like this!" *he rushes over, frantically calling out Vinnie's name pulls Vinnie up, relieved to see he's okay* "Phew, thank goodness you're alright!" *he gives Vinnie a tight hug, then dusts him off * "Let's get you back inside, buddy. No more scares like that, okay?" *Sunil helps Vinnie back indoors, keeping a watchful eye on him.*

Zoe: Darling, are you alright? Oh, come on now, we can't have you laying there. If you don't get up, you'll get all dirty, *approaches Vinnie, noticing he's breathing and seemingly okay* "Well, you seem to be in one piece. Let's make sure you stay cozy then." *she gently drapes a blanket over him, ensuring he's comfortable* "There, that should keep you warm while you're enjoying your little rest..."

Minka: Hey, Vinnie, you good?" *not getting a response, she gets playful* "Come on, sleepyhead, time to wake up! Vinnie! Vinnie! Vinnie!" *she starts jumping around him, calling his name in a sing-song voice, trying to rouse him. noticing Vinnie still isn't responding, she gets a bit more assertive* "Alright, buddy, time to wake up!" *she pulls his hair to lift his head* "Oh good, you're not dead! Let's play something fun to get you back on your feet!”

-Ok so here is the first one thank you again for the ideas this is fun - let me know how I did! - 🎉

Damn, he didn't die :( just kidding ahaha... ha... blood!

So anyway. I would answer in my regular way, replying with Vinnie, but let me tell you right here pretty much all of his replies would be something along the lines of pained mumbling "Mhm, yeah... I'm okay, I think I passed out for a second. Maybe?"

So down we go, I love Pepper's gradual panic, cause og that happened planty of times, he's gonna get up soon 😀... 😐... 😨! "Oh shit!" but naaah, he's goood. Maybe just hit his head just enough that his brain connections have fundamentally changed and he now becomes super smart so I can finally have that episode I dream about :)

Now Penny is the only ractional here let me tell you, panicking that he's nottt good, that'd be me, cause how dare he die in such an unepic way :/

Okay, but the way I imagine it for some reason is that it's all going on in the park each time, so Russell basically just sat down and just started reading on the pavement xD. I get that this is not how you imagined it, but I just can't stop myself from thinking about it like that

See, now they're outdoors. Okay actually maybe Sunil is rational too. Just takes him home and cares for him *pat pat*. "If you die on me I will kill you, Vinnie."

Aaaand now they're not, I mean I don't think Zoe would just leave him like that if they were in the park or something, plus where would she get that blanket? Exactly. Unless we're thinking about her botomless purse. Ah, yes, he's enjoying his "rest" that is lying there in some amount of pain xD. Nah, that's just my interpretation again.

Broo nah, "Oh good, you're not dead" implies that Minka thought he might at least be dead so she was just kinda jumping around the corpse wanting it to play with her 😭. My man just clearly suffered something and she wants him to just get up like that, naaaah.

Oh damn that's the first one you send me of those? Damn, I hold onto this one, haven't I? Anyway, feel free to injure him again, more or less anyway ^^

#lps 2012 #asks

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zaunrising · 1 year ago

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Dream, or truth whispered in the darkness?

Drabble involving Silco having a dream involving a discussion with Jinx (both mine). Sad tired Silco having a nightmare. Blood, violence, sad, angsty. Mention of @saviourofzaun OC Irisa.

When Silco had gone to sleep, he hadn't been in a terrible mood, but he also hadn't been in the best. By the time he woke, Silco's mood would shift to something best described as tired and done with the world as a whole. A strange thing how dreams can effect a person, but perhaps not so strange considering they come from within. It was a simple dream, and started off with an utterly ordinary moment.

Looking up from the papers on his desk, Silco offered a flicker of a smile at the blue-haired woman who had just dropped from the rafters. For a second he felt uncertain, as though something about this moment was off. Shaking that feeling off, Silco took a deep breath sitting up, and pushed his papers to the side. “Jinx.” A soft greeting, his voice filled with a father's love, and under that a fatigue that was starting to feel bone deep. There was always so much work to do, and now he didn't have Jinx to help him anymore… no, he did, she was right there. Why did he think she wasn't there anymore?

Tilting her head a touch, Jinx smiled happily. “Hey there Silco.” Sitting casually on top of Silco's desk, she offered a little wave with her fingers. “You seem tired. You should let me do more. You know I like helping, you.” Voice cheerful, she leaned forwards to take a better look at Silco.

She was right. He should let her help more. Why wasn't he sending her out on jobs anymore? Somehow, Silco couldn't quite remember. There was some reason though, he knew that. An important reason. As he tried to remember that reason, one hand reached up towards his chest with fingers spread wide. Feeling a warm liquid suddenly coating his fingers, and sliding slowly down his chest, Silco didn't look downwards, suddenly feeling as though he couldn't get a breath. Why wasn't he letter her help?

What was that warm liquid, and why was he so reluctant to look? Why did Jinx look so concerned, and why were tears in her eyes?

Blinking, Silco murmured softly. “Don't cry, you're perfect.” Shaking his head as though waking from a dream, his hand fell to his desk, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “You said help me. What of The Cause though, Jinx? Is your concern always purely with me? What if I wasn't here?”

A soft laugh escaped from Jinx's lips. “Of course I want to help you, Silly. I want to make you proud, and happy, and make things easier on you! If you weren't here? That's a silly question.” Rolling her eyes, she shrugged. “I'd do… I dunno. Whatever I thought would make you proud if you were here.”

One long slow breath in, and out. His chest tight, hurting, something hot dripping down it. “Jinx, you don't really care about The Cause, do you?” Soft words uttered with a hoarse breathlessness to them, and a strange sense of forlorn resignation. Unable to help it, and needing to make his chest loosen up, Silco stood with a faint grimace trying to stretch as he did so.

Staring at Silco for a second, Jinx shook her head. “I care about you, and what makes you happy. What makes you proud of me. Otherwise, though… no, not really. I don't think anyone does Sil other than you, and maybe Sevika. The other chem-baron's just want their money, and most people are just trying to get by. The Cause is… it's dead. Silco. Just as dead as you are. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” The more she apologized, the more scared, and frantic as well as sorrowful Jinx sounded.

Looking utterly confused for a moment, Silco finally looked down, lips parting soundlessly as he saw the bullet holes in his chest. Fingers pressing ever so gently against the holes, Silco coughed, realizing why it felt like he couldn't get a breath before reaching out to try to pull Jinx in for one last hug. That attempt failed as he found himself suddenly weak, and off balance, falling forward onto his desk. Chest hitting the desk, his hand reached for Jinx's to squeeze at it, but looking up at his perfect daughter all he saw was anger and resentment even as he slid from the desk to the floor.

“You should have been honest, Silly, about Vi coming back. You should have made things right. You shouldn't have been a failure. You should have done better. You can't even make people care about the Free Nation of Zaun, fuck, you can't even make me care about it, and here you are dying. Waste of…”

Whatever Jinx said was lost to Silco. His vision fading, and his hearing going with it. Consciousness fading with each beat of his heart pushing blood inevitably out of his chest. Eyes going dark, Silco expected never to wake again, but be it for better or worse he did indeed wake.

Eyes snapping open, Silco tensed, nearly letting out a gasping cry, but cut it off just in time. A hand went to his chest, and the scars on it, as he stared up at the ceiling. Irisa's breathing soft beside him, and the rest of the house silent as a multitude of thoughts went through his head. Had Jinx really been wrong? The cause was practically dead in the water after all. Zaun had turned into an enterprise, and few if any cared about improving things, choosing rather to attend purely to their own affairs. He had done so much, but at the same time not nearly enough, and couldn't help but feel as though perhaps it was too late. The other chem-barons were circling The Lanes now, Jinx was Piltover's most wanted, his own resources weakened if not down right drained. Somehow it increasingly felt both as though his back was against a wall, and also as if he was engaged in some never ending Sisyphean labor resulting only in his own fatigue. For how long would it go on until finally some new monster nipped at his legs and dragged him down, taking his place?

It didn't matter. Silco refused to roll over and bare his stomach for anyone. Even if some new monster appeared, Silco would fight and thrash and do everything in his power to survive. That was simply who he was, no matter how tired he might become.

Unable to go back to sleep, Silco finally got up. A moment to make sure Irisa still had a blanket, and was comfortable before he turned and grabbed a couple of things only to head downstairs. There was no reason to risk waking her up simply because his mind was far too busy with his own worries after all.

Perhaps he'd simply go to The Last Drop early to check in on things.

There was always more to do, after all.

Demons didn't get to rest.

No matter how tired they might become.

#⌱ THAT'S WHY WE FIGHT | SILCO (ic)#⌱ MEMORIES SHARED | SILCO (drabbles)#⌱ FALLING ANGEL AND RISING DEMON | SILCO & IRISA

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kaynai-sama · 2 years ago

Note

can you tell us more about Criminal AU?

Sure, why not tell the bottom context once for all? Let's tell this story from Chris's point of view.

Why, why him? We were just walking around the little forest! They could've left us alone.

When those two men appeared, I knew the fun was over, Martin stood up for me, because they wanted to take me. He told me to close my eyes... And as an innocent nine-year-old kid, I did so. All I heard were screams and struggling.

I didn't see anything, until my mom grabbed my hands, uncovering my eyes, she was freaked out, my dad was telling at those guys, running after them and Martin was gone. Mom told me to run back to the car and hide wherever I could. I asked for Martin, she just said "we'll get him back" As she told me, I ran back to the car with the keys in my hand and locked myself inside, trying to fit behind the door under the back seat. I started crying silently so anyone would hear me. Half day passed and my mom returned with my dad, I realize now that the injury he had in his shoulder when they got back was a bullet hole, I was scared, Mom started the car and we left.

"where's Martin?!" I cried out.

"We'll get him back soon, Chris, I promise." My dad said.

I didn't know what he meant.

Martin was missing for a whole month and two weeks, the police was about to shut down the case and declare him dead, until...

He came back! One day, we heard a knock on the door, when dad opened, I swear I could see tears on his face, because Martin was back, in a very bad state. He was wearing a hospital row, he was walking without shoes, he looked tired and pale, even his eyes had lost that vivid blue and turned more greyish, but he wasn't blind. And the worst of all, he was half fainted and covered in blood. He won't tell us where he was or what happened to him. By now, he still refuses to tell.

Ever since that day, he wasn't the same. He almost didn't eat, almost never slept, he looked really pale and tired all the time, he became really cold and distant... And he almost kills one of our friends, we didn't know how, but since he never did it again, we kept the secret.

When he was 22 and I was 18 we found out about a so-called-cure fore this strange illness of his. We knew the advertisement was talking about him because, first; those were the two men who kidnapped him in the first place, and two; Martin had all the symptoms mentioned... But we didn't had enough money to pay for it and if we got honest jobs, we could spend years just to get the half. Well, we have the half now, 3 years later, he doesn't get better except for a few good symptoms.

He hardly gets hurt by anything, he can even fall from a fifth floor and only twist an ankle! And he's really smart too. That's why nobody can catch us, due to our physical abilities and Martin's IQ, we never get cought by anyone. We just hope to get the money to buy the cure before someone else buys it.

You might think, why don't we steal it? The lab where it's hidden it's way past Martin's plan making, it's like every plan would work but there's always a "but" and it all falls down. Not even Martin can crack a way in that includes a way out, or a way out that includes a way in, so it's a hard pass to go on and steal it.

So, here we are, stealing as much as we can, I wish we could quit it, but we really need that cure.

We don't want Martin to go crazy again...

#wild kratts #wild kratts au #wk criminal au

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missmagooglie · 2 years ago

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Couldn’t be me, falling down the Stranger Things shaped hole and winding up with a Munson-centric Gen fic...

Oh shit, yes it could.

Defender of the Faith (AO3)

The shrill ring of the phone jolts Wayne from sleep hours before he should be awake. It’s barely past noon, and Wayne had dragged himself home from the night shift at half past eight this morning.

He blearily gropes for the receiver and brings it to his ear with a roughly mumbled, “‘Lo?”

“U- uncle Wayne?”

The tremor in his nephew’s voice has Wayne jolting upright and alert. “Eddie? What’s wrong?”

“I, uh, I’m at the hospital.”

“Are you alright?” Wayne demands, picking his pants up from the floor and shoving his legs into them hastily. He twists himself up in the phone cord searching for his wallet and keys as he says, “I’ll be there in five minutes. Ten at the most.”

“No,” Eddie says, “We aren’t – they took us to Memorial.” The bigger, county-wide hospital. It’s out by that fancy new mall they just built, nearly half an hour away.

Wayne pauses. “We?”

Eddie laughs. It’s wet and mirthless and altogether too close to a sob for Wayne’s liking. “Yeah, um. I think… I think I might have just become a father?”

Wayne’s blood runs cold. He’d thought, after Eddie’s tearful confession a few years back, that he’d done a good enough job reassuring the boy. That Eddie wasn’t running around thinking that was something he needed to change about himself. That, by extension, teenage pregnancy wasn’t something Wayne needed to worry about with his boy.

“Edward Munson,” and shit, Wayne can hear the steely tone of his own father in his voice. It’s not one he can ever remember taking with Eddie. “You had better not be telling me you got some poor girl in trouble trying to prove-”

“Shit, no. Wayne, that’s not – fuck.” There’s a shuddering intake of breath and a bit more muffled cussing before Eddie continues, “Listen, it’s complicated and I swear I’ll explain but they, they, she started bleeding, Wayne. Like, a lot. And they kicked me out of the room and I –” Eddie’s voice breaks, and when he speaks again the pitch has changed. A dam has broken and Eddie is crying, forcing the words out anyway. “I think she’s dying. The machines were making all these noises that sounded like, like, like BAD noises, you know? And there was all this blood and they wouldn’t let me stay to hold her hand and I fucking NEED you right now. So will you please –”

Wayne doesn’t let the boy get another word out. Tells him, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, kid,” and just barely manages to get the phone back in the cradle before running out the door.

When Wayne finds Eddie, he’s crouched in a corner making himself as small as he can. His wild mop of hair falls haphazardly around him, obscuring his face but not quite managing to hide the way his shoulders are shaking as he hugs his knees tightly.

His head pops up the moment Wayne calls his name. His eyes widen with an expression that almost looks like relief for half a moment before his face crumbles again. He shakes his and says, “She didn’t-” before lapsing again into tears.

“Oh, my boy,” Wayne says, sinking down next to him. His back protests and his knees click as he sinks down onto the cold tile floor, but like hell he’s gonna let that stop him from gathering the boy he raised – his son in all but name – in his arms and rocking him as he cries.

It takes a while, but eventually Eddie calms to the point where he can tell Wayne about what happened. He tells Wayne all about the cheerleader who’d sought him out hoping Eddie could sell her something that would help her sleep, about how she’d been nervous the first time so Eddie had gotten to talking just to break the ice and it had turned out that what she’d really wanted was someone to talk to. Someone apart from all the pressure that came with being pretty and popular. Someone who didn’t expect her to act like the head cheerleader, the prom queen, the perfect daughter, the trophy girlfriend. He talks about the tenuous friendship that had formed through sharing the joints she’d been buying with Eddie because she didn’t want to smoke alone and no one else could know she was doing this.

Eddie tells Wayne how she’d been depressed, but afraid to show it. Afraid that she’d be judged and shunned for showing weakness. How the nightmares she complained of had gotten worse so she’d been asking to meet with Eddie more and more, how she’d started asking Eddie if he could get her something stronger.

He tells Wayne how they’d been meeting up at Starcourt this morning, how Eddie had agreed to sell her some ketamine but had kind of wanted to talk her out of it. How before he was able to sell her anything, she’d doubled over in pain and Eddie had needed to run to the nearest phone to call for an ambulance.

He tells Wayne about the fear in this Chrissy girl’s eyes as she’d insisted to the paramedics that she wasn’t, couldn’t be, pregnant even as they insisted that she was not only pregnant but had gone into active labor and was having a baby right now. Eddie tells Wayne how she clung to his hand so hard he’d been worried his bones might break, how she’d been crying and scared and begging Eddie not to go so when the doctors had insisted he couldn’t follow her to the delivery room if he wasn’t family he hadn’t even stopped to think before claiming that he was the baby’s father.

“But you… you’re not,” Wayne says carefully.

“Jesus, no,” Eddie insists. He sniffs wetly and rubs his nose on his sleeve. He’s calmer now than when Wayne first arrived, but it’s fragile. Eddie's not feeling better so much as just plain tired out. “We only started hanging out like six weeks ago and we never slept together. I may have failed biology twice, but even I can figure that out. ”

He’d taken care of the girl anyway, Wayne thinks, because Eddie has the kindest heart of anyone Wayne’s ever known. Eddie has never once met someone who was lonely and scared and been able to walk away. His island of misfits and their silly dragon game was proof of that, even if most of this town was too caught up on Eddie’s eccentricities to see it.

There’s a clack of heels on the floor as a receptionist walks over to them. She clears her throat delicately then says, “Mr. Munson?”

Wayne looks up at her, but she’s looking at Eddie with a softer, more gentle gaze than Wayne’s seen anyone give him since he was a little boy. Certainly since he started ‘expressing himself’ by growing out his hair and wearing black leather and chains.

“Honey,” the woman says gently, “I am so sorry for your loss. I know this is hard, but we need to get in touch with Miss Cunningham’s next of kin. Do you know how to reach her parents?”

Eddie shakes his head. “M’sorry. I never called the house, I don’t know their number.”

“That’s alright, hon,” she says. “Do you know their first names? Their address?”

“It’s not – look, I’m not the kind of guy a girl like Chrissy is supposed to date. She was having a hard enough time keeping her parents happy with school and cheerleading and youth group, she didn’t need the added stress of bringing around some guy they’d never approve of,” Eddie says, half apologetic and half frustrated. “I didn’t go to her house. I didn’t call her on the phone. We were careful not to be seen together. We’d meet up after school, put notes in each other’s lockers, that kind of thing. I wish I could help, but I just don’t know.”

Wayne knows Eddie well enough to know that everything he’s saying is probably true, factually speaking. He’s just creating a picture with those facts that lets this receptionist believe that they were some sort of star-crossed lovers rather than what they truly were — a stressed out rich girl and her drug dealer. It works, because the receptionist gives him a warm, sympathetic look before straightening up.

“Wait -” Eddie says before she can leave. “Do you know what happened? The doctor said something, but I didn’t really understand. They stopped the bleeding but then her heart gave out, he said. I don’t – how does that happen?”

The receptionist waffles for a moment, clearly unsure if this is something that Eddie is allowed to know. In the end, her sympathy for him seems to win out. “Your girlfriend was very sick, sweetheart,” she tells him. “The doctors noticed signs of malnourishment, brittle nails, and the enamel on her teeth was very thin. All signs that Miss Cunningham was very likely purging after eating and had been doing so for some time.”

“Purging like throwing up?” Eddie asks.

The receptionist nods.

“Like, she had an eating disorder?”

“She had all the signs doctors look for to diagnose bulimia,” she confirms.

Eddie lets his head loll backwards and hit the wall with a soft thud. Wayne watches him with concern, unable to read the thoughts swirling through his mind.

Wayne smiles kindly at the receptionist, gives her a soft nod to let her know it’s ok to go.

“I’ll have a nurse come get you when it’s alright for you to see the baby,” she says as she departs.

Beside Wayne, Eddie goes still.

“Fuck,” he says softly without opening his eyes. “I forgot there was a baby.”

The baby is the tiniest thing Wayne’s ever seen. Premature and underweight, she lies on her back in the strange, boxy incubator the doctors have placed her in.

Eddie hasn’t taken her eyes off her. He sits perched on the edge of the chair next to the incubator, his hand stuck through the hole in the side that allows for contact. What must be the smallest hand in the whole wide world grips tightly to the very end of Eddie’s finger, holding tight and not letting go.

Once the nurse leaves to give them some privacy, Wayne walks over and grips Eddie’s shoulder.

“You did a kind thing today for that young lady, but you’re not under any sort of obligation here. You know that, right?” he asks.

“I know, Wayne,” Eddie says somewhat absently, his focus still fixed on the infant in front of him.

“We can just explain what you did, why you did it. No one will fault you for a little white lie you told while trying to offer her comfort.”

“I know,” Eddie repeats.

“We ain’t got much to offer a baby. You’n’me are barely scraping by as it is,” Wayne points out.

“I know,” Eddie says. He doesn’t take his eyes off the baby, doesn’t pull his finger away from her tiny grasping hand. Wayne sighs, knowing before Eddie speaks that this was never gonna go any other way.

“I can’t walk away from her, Wayne,” Eddie says.

“I know,” Wayne replies.

#stranger things #wayne munson #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #stranger things fic

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saltedswan · 2 months ago

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Returns

The kitchen I grew up in is unremarkable, really. The most notable thing about it is how little space there is to work in, as it's got an ancient oven with the microwave over it crammed right up against the refrigerator that hosts new bills and an old missing person poster. The second most notable thing is that we haven't covered up the lines on the doorway that measured our heights through the years; I'm as tall as my dad was the last time we measured him, which means my last height line was not made permanent.

Getting any kind of meal used to be an ordeal. Sometimes it still is, if Mom's home. Right now, it's just making food that I need in the space that I have.

Mom's still at her third shift nursing job, my friends online are all playing a PVP shooter I suck at, and I cannot mentally take one more minor inconvenience without some kind of carb in my stomach or I will cry. I'm sitting on the counter, watching the chunked potatoes rotate in the microwave, when the pressure of the room changes so violently that my ears pop.

When I finish cursing and rubbing at my eyes, I blink at broken tile on the floor in front of the fridge and realize there is a foot standing on it. Attached to a person.

I should be home alone. I should not have a man in my personal space. I especially should not have a man I recognize in my personal space, but my brain seems to think freeze is the correct response here-- maybe I'm too hungry for fight or flight; maybe the impossibility of it all is short-circuiting me.

We stare at each other. My eyes wide with panic, his soft with relief, both sets made of the same exact coppery brown, until I stutter out a word that means my brain has made the connection about those eyes. "Dad?"

He's older than I remember. Obviously, I mean, he left when I was nine. He's still got over half a head of hair, and it's well kept enough to evoke images of knights or monks instead of Greg in the trailer down the road from the gas station. He's not as soft around the edges as the man I knew, either, but I guess neither am I.

When I was six years old, I cracked my skull open. The scar took years to heal into something that could be fully hidden by my hair, running from my temple along the back of my ear, branching off to make a line from my jaw to the crown of my head. I was gloating about winning a card game against Dad, wearing soft little socks with cartoon characters on them, and slipped on the hardwood floor. I don't remember the blood or the pain, now; I just remember the swooping way my stomach didn't quite follow the rest of my body down, the tilting of the world before impact, and a glimpse of Dad's face in the transition from bemused to terrified.

For a split second, everything about this moment takes me back to that one.

"I can explain," he says, as if I asked. As if I'm accusing him of something. Maybe I should be, considering the years of missing-assumed-dead and all, but I don't know how to feel yet. I guess my not being completely elated was enough for him to feel the underlying resentment and disbelief, though.

His eyes have an edge of panic to them now. Desperation. It's almost satisfying, definitely hurtful, and I feel that pressure at the back of my eyes I've been fighting all night.

"I was--there was a curse," He stammers out. His voice isn't exactly like in the video we have of him from our last family vacation. Fuller timbre, rounder vowels. "I was the only one who could break it."

I don't register his words for a second, and then I know how I feel. The tears filling my eyes burn as much as the frustration in my throat.

He looks alarmed, starts stammering more excuses that I don't register over the droning of the microwave and the rushing of my own breath. I have to be dreaming, because what I do hear sounds an awful lot like fairy tales.

I shake my head when he tries to step closer to me, but there's nowhere I can go, stuck sitting on the counter with him blocking the exit. His hands brush against my arms and he's got calluses on his palms that scratch my skin and snag on the fabric of my shirt. He's embracing me, his words becoming unsteady and hitched as his hand smooths over my hair.

I feel the moment he feels my scar, and just like the day I got it I'm needing to comfort him and tell him that everything will be fine. I tell him I'm just glad to see him. I say I'm sorry for crying. I'm lying, in the big way that'll cause problems for me later.

Finally, I ask where he's been. He pulls away, takes a breath, steadies himself while he looks at me as if I'm the one liable to vanish on him.

It occurred to me, years down the line with a missing dad and no one to eat dinner with while mom worked and finished school, that he had let me win that card game. Sometimes I hated him for it. If he hadn't, I might have lived a life more able to blend in. I might not have started a pattern of apologizing for my pain. Sometimes I recognized that he was just being nice. Sometimes I'm sorry I ruined his night.

I ask, again. He tells me, "I told you where I've been. I was helping people, fighting monsters."

I shake my head, not really disagreeing with him as much as refusing the reality where my dad could be any kind of hero in this situation.

He holds his hand to the side, and a bright flash makes me start. I nearly give myself whiplash with how fast I turn to see the source, expecting a lighter or a gun or a phone or a camera. What's formed suddenly between us can't be what I'm actually seeing, because I swear I'm looking at a sword made of light. The shape of it is angular, incandescent lines refracting its own light into little prismatic patterns on Dad's worried face.

"Thank all the plains that still works," He mutters. I wonder, distantly, if him picking up phrases from wherever he's been means he's given some of our phrases to that place. I wonder if I'm asleep.

When we sat together in the hospital, back then, he told me stories to distract me from the part where I was in the hospital. His weird fairytales almost worked to keep me from thinking about all of the new ways my skin pulled every time I moved or smiled or breathed.

I wonder, now, if the stories of this place he's been will distract me from all of the new ways my life has to shape around knowing they might be true.

The microwave beeps.

#writing #my writing #fiction #short story #fantasy writing #ididthis

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tender-rosiey · 2 years ago

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HE MAKES YOU SCARED - pt 2

⤷ includes: gojo, geto; nanami, sukuna

— warnings: mentions of blood, gore and death

ᴀ/ɴ: it’s angst time, buckle up <3 hurt no comfort, we cry like men also f!reader in sukuna’s, the rest are gn!reader

GOJO SATORU:

you wouldn’t call yourself needy, like really. you, like any normal lover, just wanted to spend some time with your husband. you are also quite understanding of his situation, and a proof of that is the last time you guy had an actual date was a good two month ago.

however, it was really bothering you now and you really missed him.

today, he is back home, but who knows for how long so you approach him, “‘toru?” and he hums, a little irritated you sense, but continue nonetheless, “can I ask you something?” satoru lifts his blindfold and you can see the strain in the corner of his eyes, as he raises an eyebrow in inquiry, “yeah?”

“um…are you free to go on a date like soon?”

he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply then stands up, “y/n,” and you nod, “listen, I know we don’t spend time together, but can’t you just look at things from my point of view?”

“what?” you say in disbelief while he continues running a hand through his hair, his blindfold long forgotten on the floor.

“I am a sorcerer; I have duties. I get that your job gives you more free space, but I am fucking busy and even the days I am not required for a job, I am left tired and irritated,” and he looks at you dead in the eye, “so you should at least be more considerate and stop your nagging.”

he walks to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and he hears you mutter, “you asshole…”

gojo turns to you, “excuse me?”

“you asshole, you fucking asshole!” you yell and your eyes are now filled with tears, tears you’re so desperately trying to hold back, “have you gotten so in your head that you can’t see what I am doing for you?” you scream and he stares at you in disbelief.

“oh really? I am the asshole now?” he eggs you on and you reply just as aggressive.

“well, yes obviously since you seem so good at dismissing everything I have done and belittling my work, you fucking ass!”

he walks to you, cup in hand, and aura you’re so unfamiliar with that it frightens you a little, “if you’re gonna keep bitching,” and his hand is raised up high, “THEN YOU SHOULD AT LEAST DO SOMETHING RIGHT FIRST!” and the mug meets the floor in a loud crash, a dirty carpet, and glass everywhere.

the only sound after that is gojo’s heavy breaths and your choked sobs.

slowly, he comes to his senses and his eyes are far clearer, no more anger and rage behind them, “y/n, wait I—“ and he reaches out for you, only for you to slap his hand away.

“DON’T GET NEAR ME!” you yell, your chest shaking with so much fear and pain before getting out of the mansion and heading to shoko’s as she is now the only source of comfort for you.

gojo’s back is now against the wall as he curses, “god damn it!”

NANAMI KENTO:

your husband is a rather calm and collected person in general, so it was quite rare getting to see him angry.

that’s one of the reasons you were caught really off guard when it happened today.

“y/n dear, please, all I am asking is for you is to be a bit more responsible and do the chores like I do.”

you cross your arms, “well, breaking news, not everyone is like you.”

he sighs, “no need to give me any sass; I am merely asking you for some sense.”

“oh really?” you quirk an eyebrow, “now, all I do is nonsense and I am a completely irresponsible, and useless adult; oh maybe even a child! right?!”

nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, “y/n, I don’t want to argue,” his eyes meet yours for a moment making you flinch lightly, “I am not in the mood. you can drop it now.”

“you can’t just start a conversation then end it half-way, kento!”

and for the first time ever, you hear your husband raise his voice at you, “WELL A CONVERSATION WITH YOU ALWAYS LEADS TO YELLING AND PURE ANNOYANCE!” he gives his back to you, “maybe if you kept it down, then you would’ve been able to notice that,” his voice dangerously low.

his hand gets nearer to you, and you can’t help the arms that come to shield you from what would’ve come. you stay like that for a bit before untangling them and your gaze lands on your husband.

he’s shocked and wounded; he’s disappointed at himself for letting you feel this way, but did you really not trust him to the point you had to shield yourself from him? he was only going to get his cup of coffee so he can go cool down and later come to talk about the issue in a more civilized manner.

but now, all he could think about is the fear in your eyes, you finally open your mouth, a call for of his name leaves it, “kento, I didn’t mean—“

“excuse me,” he says, not adding any other word before leaving the house, leaving you alone to think and think about what happened. will this cause your gem of a relationship to crack? will he leave? is he done?

GETO SUGURU:

you are already aware of what your husband does, at least the fact that he makes non-sorcerers worship him as he steals the curses on them for himself to make an army.

even with that though, he never let you see what he actually does so you don’t get uncomfortable, and you understand.

though you didn’t expect to come back from work, a job in a nearby bakery since you quit jujustu, to heart-wrenching screams coming from one of the rooms in the house. you take off your shoes, to soften your steps, and slowly making your way to the door of said room.

it was a little open, which explained why the screams were heard, but still, how can it be so loud? just what is happening to the person?

you finally decide to peak, and are met with a sight that will possibly scar you for life.

in all your life, even when you were a sorcerer, you have never seen anything as bloody and scarring as what you are seeing: limbs separated, being feasted on by wild and barbaric beasts and curses, but you don’t know if the scenery really is the problem or the fact that your husband, who’s as gentle as a petal with you, is the the one doing that.

all of that with a smirk on his face, “damn monkeys; you’re the lowest form of life.”

your feet move without thinking, not caring anymore about making a sound or not, your instincts are telling you to run, run, run.

so you do until your legs give out when you’re right in front of the entrance of your “home”, heavy breaths escape you and you hear a tender voice, “y/n, honey, what’s wrong?”

you turn to him, slowly, and his hand makes it way to your face and once it touches, you cry, you cry your eyes out. his eyes widen in alarm and he tires to envelope you in his arms, but your arms are weakly hitting his chest, “please let me go,” a sob escapes your lips with so much force it makes you cough, “don’t hurt me,please,” and realization takes over him.

“PLEASE DON’T HURT ME! PLEASE SUGURU!” you scream, terrified; what if all what he was with you was a mere plan to lead you into the same fate?

lost in your own thoughts and fears, you don’t see the tears that cascade down your lover’s face slowly, almost unnoticeable.

his heart is aching and a lump in his throat forms, you think he will hurt you?

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

he had strictly told you not to leave the grounds of the palace, but ol’ little you wanted to explore the gardens and fields behind the fence, so what’s the best option? go off and explore, but now thinking about it, you should’ve at least taken a servant to be with you cause now you’re kind of lost.

you’re praying that sukuna doesn’t find you here and instead uses another route, but at the same you want someone to help you. however still, you’ve heard all of the tales about what happened to the women who didn’t listen to him, and they frightened you to the core.

some say that one of them was hung on a tree above a swamp so she can “rot where she belongs” and another one was thrown to a bunch of predators to feast on her while sukuna watched, almost bored.

you needed to find a way back quickly; you look around, finally noticing the footsteps you took and hurriedly following them till you’re finally back at the entrance.

you cheer quietly, happy to be back and without him finding you out, but as soon as you try to enter, you’re stopped by a guard.

“can I help you, sir?”

he eyes you up and down, “aren’t you the king’s current concubine?” and you nod.

for some reason, he grabs you by the hair harshly making you scream, “didn’t he tell you not to exit this place? you’re just a glutton for punishment like all of the others.”

you’re thrown onto the ground once again, and the guard nears your whimpering form, “disobedience is a bad sin, little girl,” and just before the spear pierces through your chest, the man is sliced to 7 pieces.

he is also stepped on by a foot, and when you look up to see its owner, it’s none other than sukuna.

you sit up to bow your head quickly, crying and sobbing, barely keeping it together as you think your end has come, “please, my lord forgive me! I only wanted to see the flowers! please, I will never disobey you again! I beg you, please don’t kill me!”

the man can only look in bewilderment, just what nonsense are you spouting? “woman, stand up.”

you never thought that your life actually flashes through your eyes.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @fiona782 @kisakitwister

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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szagaloree · 2 years ago

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I’m comin home

M’baku quite a short story!

⚠️warning⚠️

Spoiler alert! Contains scenes form wakanda forever!!!!

^inspiration music^

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I am tired! I am DRAINED! I just gave birth to our son, M’balu just three hours ago, m’baku was in his new throne room that’s in the cave helping with the wakanda s to evacuate to jabariland due to a flooding and I was told someone was coming to start a war. I really wished m’baku was here with me, he almost missed the birth of our son due to the fact he was in the city helping, he came soaked and his chest piece was broken nearly scaring the hell out of me while giving birth trying to figure out what has happened to my husband. I stare down at my son as he slept, i couldn’t get any sleep due to me taking care of him and my birth, I decided to get up and get fully dressed, I dressed my son fully putting the hood over his head as I limp a little to the cave.

“And so what?! We have the resources to take him down!” Shuri argued.

M’baku sighed, as shuri looked at me wide eyed “you..have a.. baby?” She asks m’baku snaps his head back and his go wide “my love what are you doing out here?! Should be in bed resting,” he rushes to me “I couldn’t get any sleep and I want to know what’s going on and why my husband’s chest piece was broken like somebody broke it? I still want to know that,” I question staring at him, he sighed taking m’balu out of my arms “there’s been an attack in wakanda, a man name namor is coming to destroy the land world, to start a war, he killed my motha! And now her blood is on his hands,” she said, “this man.. namor? Why does he sound familiar, my grandfather would tell me stories of the water people, they.. they are nothing to mess with shuri, are you sure this is something you want to do?” I ask, she nodded firmly, the revenge and anger, the pain and grief I see in her eyes told me she was not going to let up, I walk forward placing my hands on her “if you’re going to go to war with this man, you better give him all you got, you may have lost t’challa but the black Panther.. still lives, let him know wakanda is nothing to go war against nor to mess with,” I said she nodded, “and please.. bring my husband home,” I said, “I will, I promise,” she says.

M’baku took me to our room, “my love, I.. I don’t have to join this war, I cannot leave you here stressed that I might not make it back home,” he says I shake my head “do your duty, as the great gorilla of jabari,” I said, he looks down at his splittin image of him, he grabbed his tiny hand as the baby started to stir while wrapping his tiny fingers over his father’s finger, “just come back home,” I place my hand on his arm, he nodded pulling me into an embrace. The next morning it was time for him to go, I was scared. The jabari warriors started to leave and m’baku was as well, he turns around and walks forward to me, I was crying and m’baku hated that, he hugs me tightly “I’m coming back, my love it’s okay,” he wipes my tears i sniffled “please” I pleaded “I love you,” he said, “I love you too,” we kissed before he leaves, after that I couldn’t but cry even more watching him leave.

This whole day I was sobbing in worry, I’m fearing for my husband’s life fighting some gosh man from the sea! I breastfed m’balu while sobbing, I try to calm myself because m’balu can feel my heart which is making him fussy, I rock back and forth gently “it’s okay, daddy’s coming home soon I know, I’m just scared.. you’re daddy is a strong warrior,” I said, I burped him afterwards and laid him down to rest, I sniffled.

“Lady una? The gardeners requested for you,” the jabari men spoke, “okay I’m coming,” I said I carefully put m’balu in my wrap to hold him on my chest. Once I reached the garden I notice all the blooms of the different flowers all over, it even grew on the arch’s. “It’s beautiful,” I said, “do we need to grow more or is this enough lady una?” She asks, “it’s fine, y’all did a good job,” I said they nod their heads, “lady una, you must come now!” The jabari warrior runs in, my eyes go wide “what’s wrong?” I ask, “I can’t tell you, but you must come see,” he says I follow him, but it was outside the jabari cave, the men came back, my eyes go wide “the war is over?” I ask “yes it is,” he says, where’s m’baku?! Where’s my husband?!! I spotted shuri and ran to her “shuri, w-where’s my husband? Where is he? Did he not come back?” I panicked she turns around, I look up and m’baku walked up the mountain “m’baku!” I yelled he looks up I bawled out crying as i hugged him hard, “I told you I was coming home,” he said, “you had me scared, please don’t do this to me again!” I slap his chest he smiled softly “I won’t my love,” he pecks my lips.

“I know my kingdom awaits and they forgiven my mistakes, I’m comin home I’m comin home tell the world I’m comin…. Home”

#Spotify #m’baku #oneshot #m’baku love story #mbaku x reader #wakandagifs #wakanda forever #king of wakanda #jabari #m’baku imcominhomeoneshot

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oh-katsuki · 4 years ago

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Golden Boy (Izuku x Reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Izuku x Reader

Summary: Izuku was a nice boy, except when it came to you. Yup, UA’s golden boy really knew how to treat a slut like you.

Content Warnings: Dubcon, slight noncon, dacryphilia, size kink, face fucking, overstimulation, creampie, degradation, humiliation, spit kink, choking, finger choking, pet names, ooc izuku

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: I got SCARY h-word over this man and decided that I literally wanted him to hurt me and spit in my mouth. He’s too nice to not be a fucking freak, goodbye.

Anyway, thank you to @eremiie , @mikaberries , and @veroyktv for beta-reading this!! I appreciate y’all !

Izuku tormented you all through high school. It was almost shameful to admit the way that his gentle teases melted into something far more sinister as the weeks bled into months and years. What started as subtle comments turned into outright taunts and then the contactless threats no longer remained empty.

No one believed you. And who would?

Izuku was a model student and a good friend, someone with a kind disposition who wanted nothing more than to become the greatest hero. What reason could he possibly have to bully you? You’d never done anything to him.

But he did. For three years he mercilessly taunted you and it only got worse your final year.

Izuku would pinch at your thighs, sneering at you in the hallways when no one was looking. He’d snake his hand up your skirt and squeeze the supple flesh hard enough to leave bruises that eventually littered the entire inside of your thigh. They looked incredibly vulgar and Izuku would torment you about it endlessly, despite knowing that he’s the one who left them.

He’d crowd you against the lockers after most people had gone home, knowing you’d be there late after your tutoring sessions.

“Tsk. Quite some marks you’ve got there.” He’d say, stepping up to you, his broad shoulders squared, a half smile creeping onto his face as his eyes studied the inside of your thighs. The marks littered the otherwise smooth skin, visible when looking at you from the front.

“You get them from slutting yourself out?” Izuku would ask, stepping toward you again. “Y’look like a bit of a whore, don’t you?”

He’d lean in close to your ear, venom seeping into each of his words as he cornered you. His hand crept up your skirt, eyes trained on yours which widened with fear as he pinched down, relishing in the yelp of pain that escaped you.

You wondered how someone like Izuku could make you feel so small and so insignificant.You couldn’t even bat his hand away as he made a fool of you, pinching at the inside of your leg with thick, calloused, and scarred fingers. It didn’t matter how tall or strong you were because it always seemed that Izuku was bigger, domineering in attitude and words. He really did know how to reduce you to a helpless thing.

It seemed Izuku was growing more desperate by the day as graduation gradually crept closer. It was like he made less of an effort to hide it, blowing into your ear and whispering vile shit to you while in class, things that would make anyone squirm in their seat. He’d start bumping into you, singling you out, making an effort to get you noticed by his friends so he could have you as a little plaything whenever they hung out.

And you let him. You let him make a toy out of you, tagging along with Iida, Uraraka, and Asui on Saturday outings, letting Izuku pinch and prod at you from across a restaurant table.

The truth was, Izuku Midoriya fucking terrified you.

So you couldn’t say no to him. To everyone else you looked like nothing more or less than one of his many admirable friends. Promising quirk and a promising future, what a match for UA’s golden boy.

You were at your wits end and by the time graduation rolled around. No one listened to you. Hell, people often brushed off Izuku’s very genuine threats as classic childhood teasing. “You’re such a good sport!” they’d say as Izuku patted your back, laughing an all too cheery “just kidding!”

How were you supposed to focus on graduation day, all dolled up in your cap and gown, unwilling to admit to yourself that maybe it was for him? Still, you found yourself automatically flinching whenever Izuku came around, eyes following him across the lawn as he ignored you in favor of photos. Izuku had a promising job offer waiting for him, and his many awards won during the ceremony earned him several congratulatory handshakes as well as pictures for the school’s newsletter.

Still, he’d catch your eye when smiling for the camera, an all to familiar glint in them. His smile made you sick to your stomach, made it churn in the worst of ways. It was doing back flips as he stalked across the lawn towards you until his sturdy frame was against yours. He leaned down, lips brushing beside your ear to whisper one final taunt.

“It’s a shame you’re not wearing that little skirt of yours,” Izuku breathed, eyes flitting over the cap and gown. “Would have liked to pinch those skank thighs of yours one last time. S’what you deserve.”

And then he stood there, watching the way tears began to crowd your waterline, threatening to spill over as three years of tormentation came to what felt like an underwhelming head. Izuku tilted his head, watching the way water stained your made-up cheeks, before taking his thumb and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Don’t cry, doll.” He taunted, voice far too sweet for the words that fell from his lips. “I’m not near done with you yet.”

Why was his tone so comforting? So confusing that you weren’t sure if it was dread or relief that filled your senses, ears suddenly feeling clogged with water. Your eyes darted from his to anyone on the lawn who could see you, who might be watching as Izuku pushed you to tears with only a few words, until you caught Bakugou’s gaze.

Ah, Bakugou Katsuki, someone who’s done to Izuku what he does to you. It’s a bit of a fucked up little triangle because while Izuku was bullied by him and you are bullied by Izuku, you couldn’t help but hope that Bakugou would be the one taunting you, the one pinching your thighs. At least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe he’d help you, after all, he was probably the only person who’d believe you in the first place.

So once Izuku had wiped your tears with a condescending thumb and left to go partake of other party activities, you pulled Katsuki aside by the shoulder, fingers digging into the meat of his bicep.

“What in th- you?! The fuck are you doing?” Bakugou asked, eyebrows furrowed in the permanent scowl that he wore so frequently.

“Sh, look please just, hear me out.” You spoke, voice hushed as your eyes shifted around. You had the feeling that if Izu saw you with him, you’d be in for it. “I just- I really need help.”

Bakugou was about to scoff, was about to roll his eyes and walk away until he saw the redness under your eyes that the makeup couldn’t hide. The way you sniffled slightly as you asked and the way you looked to the floor. He’d never seen you like this, almost broken. It was something he’d seen often in Izuku, but something about seeing you like this made him ache.

“What?” He responded, trying not to seem too invested.

“It’s Midoriya.” Your voice grew quiet, almost in shame as you spoke the formal version of his name.

“And?” Bakugou was impatient. He cared about you but not enough to sit here for five minutes while you stuttered. “Spit it out.”

“He- he won’t leave me alone.” The words tumble from your lips so fast and before you know it, your hands are balled into fists on his chest, the material of his gown scrunched inside them in a plea. “He’s a nightmare, he pinches me and says the most awful shit to me. I- I mean, the inside of my legs and thighs are littered with bruises and n-no one believes me.”

“Midoriya? As in, ‘shitty deku’ Midoriya?” Bakugou takes a step back in slight shock.

“Yes!” You shout, far louder than you intended, pulling him closer slightly as you hush your tone in a whisper. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He nudged you off of him, brushing off his gown. Bakugou would be lying if he said it didn’t make his blood boil. Sure, him and Midoriya had buried the hatchet a long time ago but he still wanted dirt on the guy, plus he thought it was a coward move for him to bully someone as pretty as you. Though after seeing the way your eyes get wide in fear, he can’t say that it wasn’t incredibly tempting. There was something enticing about how you looked when you begged, no doubt Izuku saw it too.

“You’re too sensitive.” He scoffed, meeting you gaze and watching the way your expression fell. “What you do is graduate and forget about that shitty extra. There’s really nothing else to it.”

You reached for him again out of habit this time, like if he turned around now you’d really be thrown to the wolves.

“N-no, Bakugou, please.” You plead again, tears once again gathering in the corners of your eyes. “I-I can’t. I just need help.”

Oh, he gets it now.

He sees what makes you so appealing, what makes it so easy to walk all over you. You looked pretty when you cried. So he leaned in, his scowl turning into a smirk before speaking again.

“No.” Bakugou’s smirk turned into an outright grin, eyes crinkling at the corners before he stood back up. “I graduated. Shitty Deku is your problem, not mine. Deal with it yourself. Just stop talking to him or whatever.”

And with a wave of his hand he was off, walking towards his group of friends. Well, there goes your life line, the one person who actually believed that Izuku was tormenting you wouldn’t even lend you a helping hand. You supposed it was too much to hope though, and he was right, you could forget… stop talking to him. Why did the idea of that suck almost as much as staying under this thumb?

“____!” Bunette locks bounced as your friend came towards you, hand outstretched in a wave before she pulled you into a hug. “We’re all going to Midoriya’s place to celebrate graduating, come with?”

You liked Uraraka. Well, you actually liked all of Izuku’s friends. They were sweet and honestly none-the-wiser to Izuku’s torments and taunts. She wore the kindest smile, eyes bright with the excitement of finally starting her adult life.

You glanced at the rest of them, eyes flitting around friendly faces until your gaze met Izuku’s. He looked upset, eyebrows furrowed slightly and eyes cold as he stood there. They all agreed, urging you to go before Izuku spoke up, smiling gently at you over the top of Uraraka’s head.

“You should come. We’ll miss you if you don’t.” The rest of the group nods their agreement, but it wasn’t them that pulled the small okay from your lips. It was Izuku, the way his eyes had a threatening glint to them as he spoke, a smile creeping into them in the most unsettling of ways. Your stomach was turning again, twisting over and over because something about the way Izuku looked at you made you squirm.

“Yay! Okay, we’re all gonna meet there after!” She smiled, taking your hands in hers and giving a small squeal. “It’s gonna be so fun!”

And with that she was bouncing off with Asui in the direction of Kaminari and Kirishima.

Izuku stayed behind, walking slower than his friends so he could bend down to speak to you. You could feel his breath against your neck as he spoke, words sending shivers down your spine. Despite the way your heart hammered against your rib cage, you tilted your head to hear him better.

“You better be there, doll.” He muttered. “It’ll be worse for you if you’re not. Be a good girl for once, yeah?”

He sounded more upset than usual, hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder hard enough to make you flinch, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, he didn’t wear his standard grin. Izuku looked angry, furious even. It made your skin crawl, made heat creep up your neck and onto your cheeks so furiously that you found it hard to see through.

All you could do was nod, fighting the pout that tried so hard to paint your face. You squeezed your thighs together instinctively at the phrase. He never praised you, not even once. Hearing the words “good girl” drip from his lips so angrily made them fly shamefully south. He gave a small laugh before walking off. It was almost like he knew, leaving you to rub at your sore shoulder.

---

Why were you here? You could have just not come and then you never would have had to see Izuku again, never would have had to deal with him until one day in the future when you’re too successful a hero to pinch. Still, you wouldn’t admit it to yourself or anyone else, but you might miss him. The teasing was a nightmare but it was attention, something that reminded you that at least Izuku still saw you.

He couldn’t be ignoring you if he was calling you a slut.

You arrived after everyone and Izuku opened the door for you with a jeering grin before stepping aside to let you in, pinching at your thigh again. He noticed immediately that you wore a skirt and he didn’t have to wonder why. It was an invitation for him, of course.

You’d actually never been to Izuku’s house, so sitting in his living room eating snacks and drinking was unusual to say the least. It was surprising because beyond pinching you in the doorway, Izuku was being oddly kind.

He sat next to you, his thigh pressed against yours, but he didn’t try anything. Didn’t whisper in your ear or grab at the fat on your side. You couldn’t help but ask yourself why. Even as the latter half of the day droned on, you were on edge despite being treated, finally, like one of the group. What did you do wrong? Was he no longer interested in you? Most importantly though, why were you upset that he wasn’t pushing your buttons?

The end of the day came quickly, dark settling over the house while everyone gathered their things to leave. You’d all walk home together, leaving Izuku alone in his house. He smiled as everyone waved goodbye, bittersweet tears in his eyes as his final high school hang out came to a close. He cried at the ceremony while delivering his speech and then again at his house while Uraraka babbled on about her appreciation of UA. You can’t say you felt the same.

“Not ____.” He said as you slipped on your shoes, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll walk her home since she lives in the opposite direction. Plus, I gotta give her something.”

Izuku smiles at his friends, who all nod their understanding. They wouldn’t suspect that he’d do anything wrong, that he’d be keeping you behind to maybe, finally, torment you. What a fucked up way of thinking. The door to his house clicked shut and your blood ran far colder than you thought it would as he approached you.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He taunted, a fake pout adorning his features. “Thought I’d let you off easy? After today?”

Izuku raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes at the realization that you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“Wow, you really are a slut aren’t you? Clinging to Bakugou so shamelessly today?” He scowled looked over you.

Your eyes widened, lips parting as you remembered grabbing at Bakugou’s shirt, pulling him towards you earlier that day in a plea for help.

“Did you think he would help you?” He sneered. “Bakugou’s just like me. He doesn’t care about a whore like you. Did you think that if you pushed against him like that he’d cave? Fold because your perfect body was flush on him?”

Izuku took your face between his pointer and thumb, spitting venom at you, waiting for you to respond. His compliment flew over your head.

“N-no.” Yes. “I swear Izuku… I- I didn’t-”

“You- you- you didn’t what?” Izuku responded, mocking your miserable stutter. “You’re my toy. Pisses me off when you let other people play with you.”

And then he’s dragging you towards his room, pulling you into the cramped space and closing the door behind him. He’s muttering like he usually does, pushing you onto his bed so you’re sitting on the edge.

Why were you so relieved right now? Why was your cunt already sticky with arousal? Why did every single word he was saying to you go straight south? You take your bottom lip between your teeth trying to find a way to shake your head in protest— to get up and leave— but the movement just wouldn’t come. Instead, you hang your head, eyebrows pulled up and cheeks flushed with heat as he stares you down.

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice is barely a whisper, hardly audible over the sound of his frustrated breathing and your own rampant heart beat. “I’ve never done anything to you.”

Izuku scoffed this time, stepping forward and taking your face in his hands again.

“Haven’t done anything?” His words are venomous and his face is inches from yours, hot breath fanning across your cheeks. Were his hands always this big? “Dressing like that and saying you ‘haven’t done anything’?”

His eyes flit down to the fat of your thighs, free hand groping the flesh hungrily, hard enough that it had you sucking in a sharp breath. Izuku couldn’t take it anymore, squeezing your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours in an aggressive kiss.

Truth was, you drove Izuku batshit crazy. Right from the moment he saw you he could hardly contain himself, prancing around in that tiny fucking skirt with an ass like that. Daring to act so innocent when he was gripping the edge of his desk to keep from pouncing on you as you introduced yourself to him, as you hung all over his middle school bully, or as you flashed your hot pink panties while in class.

To him, you were asking for it and the way you played dumb only made his blood boil further. Izuku was a nice boy, always had been, but the day that he made you cry, telling you that you kind of looked like a slut in your skirt, was the day he knew that he’d have way too much fun with you.

Your eyes got so big, welled up so quickly with tears that he knew were caused by him. It made him proud, made his chest swell at how quickly he could completely ruin your day. This must be how Bakugou felt, to some degree, except chances are that he wasn’t thinking about what your puffy, swollen lips might look like when you’re choking on his cock.

He’d been thinking about it since he met you. Pushing you further and further because you were just so fucking cute when you cried and if he couldn’t consume your thoughts because you like him, then he’d have to settle for consuming them because you’re afraid of him.

You grunted against him, eyes going wide as his lips crashed into yours. You were spinning, heart pounding as his tongue dipped into your mouth hungrily. He pulled away from you quickly.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy, looking like that.” Izuku seethed. “If you’re gonna play clueless, y’might as well make use of yourself. S’what you deserve.”

And without asking he pushed you from the bed and onto your knees in front of him. You knew where it was going, knew that Izuku wasn’t going to let up because this boundary was being crossed. Still, you shamefully rubbed your thighs together, blinking up at him in confusion and arousal.

“Such a whore.” He said, freeing his cock from his pants and letting it slap against his stomach. Izuku relished in the way your eyes widened, in the way you unconsciously licked your lips. And then he’s tapping the side of your mouth with his cock, head tilted back in a taunt as he watches the way your eyes brim with premature tears. He’d show you real crying.

“Suck it.” A simple command, but one that had you shivering. He kept his hand on your shoulder while his fingers dug into it with a force that was all too familiar. is cock throbbed in his hands as you sniffled and parted those pretty, glossed lips.

Izuku didn’t wait, no, he couldn’t wait, pushing his full length to the back of your throat and beyond, groaning when it entered the tight, wet space beyond your mouth. His head fell back and his mouth fell open at the way you choked on him. Tears forced their way out of your eyes and down your cheeks as he began fucking your mouth.

“Y-you’re a real crybaby, huh?” He cooed, a lazy half-smirk gracing his face. “You did this to yourself. Such– a fucking– tease.”

He accentuated his words with harsh thrusts into your throat, drool pooling in your mouth and dribbling down his cock to his balls. It ran down your chin, mingling with tears as he continued to fuck your throat.

Izuku was big, far bigger than you expected him to be. He completely filled your throat, stretching your unprepared mouth open. You could feel the sides of your mouth pulling at his size, lips cracking as you struggled to take all of him with each of his thrusts. Still, when you looked up at him through big teary eyes, knees growing sore from the way his fist held you to the floor, other hand pulling you against his cock, your cunt grew wet with arousal.

He pulled you off him by your hair, watching the way you gasped and sputtered and sobbed. He loved the scratch in your throat as you coughed and he picked you up by the arm and crawled between your legs.

“Wearing such a tiny skirt to my house.” He spit. “You knew what you were doing, lookin’ like that with your ass out and shit.”

Izuku’s eyes scanned over you hungrily, like he’s been waiting to get you here for so long. Fuck, he still looked big, hovering over you and supporting his entire weight on one of his arms as his other hand wandered down. He flipped up the fabric of your skirt, admiring the way you flinched as his hand ran up your inner thigh.

His hands ran over your figure, squeezing at the fat of your stomach, thighs, and chest. Izuku has been dying to get a piece of you since you met, since he first laid eyes on that frustratingly sexy figure of yours that led him to spiral to this moment. His hands dipped back to your inner thigh, ensuring that your skirt was out of the way, though it was so small already that it proved no obstacle at all.

His breathing grew heavy, hand gently gliding along the supple flesh that he’s pinched so many times, marks from your final day of classes still fading. Izuku’s eyebrows were furrowed together as his hands found your panties, touching you over the fabric that was now soaked through. His eyes snapped to you so fast as he pulled the fabric aside with calloused fingers, wasting no time dipping his fingers into your soaking folds.

“You fucking pervert.” He sneered, glancing down to show you just how wet you’d gotten, all for him. “You like it when I’m mean to you? So fucking dirty.”

Izuku rubbed a swift circle around your clit and you brought your arm up to hide your face, biting into your forearm to muffle the sounds. You shook your head, squeaking out a no as his fingers curled up into you.

“You sure about that? You’re dripping.” Izuku grunted, curling his fingers with his entire forearm and hearing a moan from you. “See? Fucking slut, giving me those eyes, like a lost puppy.”

It was undeniable how you clenched around him and he let out a curt laugh of disbelief.

“Oh… you like that name, don’t you, puppy?” He dipped down to bite at your neck, humming into the skin.

You squirm beneath him but he has you caged in under, your legs unable to move around. Your stomach still turned in fear of him, but that fear was mixing with the intense pleasure building in your core. Even his fingers were a stretch and you could feel his thick cock hitting your abdomen with each aggressive curl, your mind consumed with just how good it would feel for him to break you open. After all, he’s chipped away at almost every ounce of self respect you had. In fact, he practically already owned you mentally, now he was just claiming what he should rightfully own physically.

“I hate girls like you.” He spat, fingers picking up their pace as you were sent barrelling towards your high. “Acting like you don’t know what you’re doing to me. So fucking stupid. But look at you now— Your cunt is practically drooling on me— pathetic.”

You were close, hot with arousal as he lifted your arm from your face.

“Getting close huh? I can feel your whore cunt clenching. Y’wanna cum?” He grinned widely through furrowed brows.

Your eyes were glossed over, tears spilling onto your cheeks and for a moment Izuku almost felt bad for you. Still though, you were just too fun to fuck with, too fun to absolutely ruin. You looked prettier than he could have imagined right now; face sticky with tears of arousal, embarrassment, and fear. Izuku was a nice boy, he really was, except when it came to you because now he just couldn’t stop himself from ruining your cunt.

You were close, impossibly close as you bit your lip in an attempt to muffle the whiney yes that breached your lips. It was involuntarily, almost a survival response as his fingers continued making that delicious squelching sound. Those years of torment were beginning to twist. You were beginning to convince yourself that no, it wasn’t so bad, it’s okay to want to cream on his fingers and be his good girl.

So you nodded, dew-filled eyes stricken with fear meeting his predatory ones in a confirmation. He was building you up so well, your stomach turning over and over, the knot tightening and set to break. And then he pulled his fingers from you as you clenched around nothing, a blinding orgasm ripped from you all by his fingers. Your back arched up off the bed and pathetic whines left your lips.

“You’ll have to beg for it.” He smirked, sitting back on his knees, discarding your panties with a hard tug and running the head of his cock through your slick while you whimper. “Tell me you like it. C’mon. I’ll let you cum on my cock if you do.”

Right now you were certain you’d do anything if it meant you were allowed to cream over him, so you parted your lips, hiccuping through broken sobs.

“P-please Izu, need to cum.” Your voice was low and quiet.

Izuku pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, glowering down at you as he pushed the fabric of your shirt up over those perfect tits that he couldn’t get enough of. He sucked in a sharp breath, facade falling for a moment until he brought his eyes back to yours.

“You like it when I’m mean, huh? Lemme hear you say it.” Izuku gave a cruel smile, eyes darkened with lust.

“Yes! Yes, I like it.” You shout, hand coming up to grab his arm, speaking through desperate tears. “Please fuck me, please Izu.”

Izuku bottomed out in one fell swoop, hearing all he needed as he throws his head back, a groan of fucking pathetic falling lazily from his lips. He rolled his head across his shoulders, starting to move in and out of you, stretching your cunt open with each push and pull.

“So fucking tight. You a virgin?” His tongue swiped at his teeth as he relished in the stretch and the way pain wet your cheeks.

God, he fucking hated you. Hated every part of you. He hated the way your lips looked so good around him, the way your thighs squeezed so nicely around his waist, the way your tears only egged him on. It all made him want to hurt you. You brought out the worst in him. You were too fucking tempting, too easy.

You weren’t a virgin but the stretch of his cock made you feel like one. God, you could feel him in your throat as you gripped pathetically at his biceps, a plea to get him to slow down. Izuku wouldn’t listen though, pounding into your gummy walls mercilessly.

“Not gonna answer?” He laughed, low and threatening before folding your knees to your chest. “Tells me all I need to know. How many men have fucked this cunt of yours, huh? Bet it’s more than I can count on one hand.”

Izuku brought his hand up to your face once more, squeezing your plump cheeks together.

“Don’t worry, puppy. Gonna make it so you can’t take anyone else.” He spits in your mouth, forcing it closed. “Fuckin’ mine now, yeah? My little whore, always have been, right?”

You screw your eyes shut, swallowing sloppily as spit drips down your chin and tears streak from your eyes. Where did he learn to speak like this?

“Say it.”

You’re close again, so full of him, so desperate for him to give you what you want. You can’t resist him, so you might as well submit. Maybe it will make everything easier because you were finding it harder to pretend that you didn’t like it now.

“Yours, m’yours.” You choke out, hand flying to his large one to move it over your throat. “Belong only to you.”

Izuku squeezed the sides of your neck with startling force. It’s almost hateful in how strong it was but it made you whine out against him, voice raking against vocal chords that he forced closed.

“Slut. S-such a slut.” He stuttered as you clenched around him, hitting your high with a roll of your hips and a pathetic whimper. “C’mon, gimme it, puppy.”

Oh god, the pay off was unbelievable. The way you whined his name was better than any sob he pulled from you to date.You were so helpless,your body wracking with waves of pleasure and your pussy clamping down around him. This is what he saw in you the first time he made you cry— this expression. He knew you could make it, eyes big and wide, filled with tears and your mouth open in a deep moan. Fuck, he loved it.

“God, so tight. Good puppy, good fucking puppy.” He fucked into you faster, chasing his own high now as he assaulted your overstimulated cunt.

Your head spun, no longer preoccupied with the taunting or the tormenting. You were stupid on his cock, his good little puppy, like you were meant to be. You should have given in earlier, should have let him shove his dick down your throat sooner because even though you were struggling to get off his fat cock, you couldn’t, and you loved every single second of it. Izuku was only mean to you, only mean to his puppy.

You’re so overstimulated, barreling towards another orgasm and now all you can think about is how bad you want him to fill you up.

“C-cum inside.” You managed to choke out between pathetic sobs and whimpers. You’re crying for it, begging. “Please cum inside of me.”

Izuku let out a low chuckle before bottoming out one final time, shoving his thick fingers down your throat and filling you up. When Izuku came, he came a lot. It flooded your cunt before leaking out the sides where he had you split open. Izuku couldn’t hide his true nature for long, his thighs beginning to quiver and a low groan becoming a high pitched whine as he emptied his balls inside of you like he’d been wanting to for so long.

He stayed there for a moment before pulling out of you and crouching down to watch the way he spilled out of you, admiring your ruined pussy and body. You’re stretched out from him, tears staining your cheeks and cunt gaping from his cock.

And then he’s biting at your thighs, marking up the inside of your leg as you can barely manage to push out a squeal. He’s leaving the marks he’s always wanted to. Those pinches on the inside of your leg were a stand in for the ones he’d create with his teeth. He nipped at the sensitive skin before dipping his tongue into your folds to collect the mixture of him and you in his mouth.

Izuku watched the way you twitched as he cleaned you up, admiring the way your legs flinched whenever he ran his tongue over your sensitive clit. He’s much gentler now but his eyes still frightened you when he came up from between your legs to spit the mixture of cum and arousal back into your slightly parted mouth, ordering you to swallow puppy.

When you finally do— too tired and fucked out to think about protesting, he smiles— standing up off the bed and buttoning his pants with a heaving sigh.

Izuku turned back to your form on the bed, watching the way your chest heaved and the way your pleated skirt crowded at your hips, ruined cunt on display and shirt pushed up over your bitten up breasts. He made a mental note to remember to take your clothes off next time.

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