#i was going to do a dancing starter but i decided to mix it up lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yanderart · 4 years ago

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Once you found Shouto on the Anti-Purge forums, it felt so wonderful to be understood. So comforting to finally have someone you could rely on...

So, when you got a letter notifying you of your selection for the Annual Purge later on, of course you went to seek his help.

Should’ve known better than to trust strangers online, though.

My fic/portrait convo for the Yandere Purge Collab, from the Lovesick Discord. And please check the rest of the m. list for other amazing works set in the same AU!

Under the cut is the actual fic (Todoroki x Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 10k), as well as the respective TWs. Hope y'all enjoy 🥀

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Tws: Usual yandere ones (stalking, manipulation, delusion). Dub-con/Non-con. Non-consensual Drug Use, aka Aphrodisiacs. Death threats and sexism (from randoms on the forum, not Todo).

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You couldn’t think straight —hadn’t been able to since waking up again. All you could recognize amidst the fog currently obscuring your thoughts was the longing, prolonged, and tangible in its hold over your being.

You felt hot all over, the flames licking at your skin burning brightly as you squirmed from your place, eagerly attempting to get closer to the cold reprieve emanating from the man that held you.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N." One of his hands was steering you on his lap, the other one gently massaging your shoulders in a comforting motion. “I can only help you if you do."

If your judgment had not been overcast by the desire pushing away your self-awareness, then perhaps you could’ve heard the faint hint of amusement in his voice. Perhaps you would’ve thought to look up and finally encounter the content shine of his heterochromatic eyes.

“I feel…" speaking was laborious, your tongue impossibly weighty and your mind swirling with thoughts that escaped any semblance of coherence. “I feel hot all over. It hurts.”

The hand positioned around your waist went to search for one of your clenched ones, easily engulfing it in his grip as he nudged the side of your face with his chin rather tenderly. A gentle encouragement for you to stay attentive, anchoring you to the moment despite your dazed mindset.

“Show me then,” his low timbre tickled your skin, sending another wave of excruciating heat to wreak havoc inside your body, “Let me know where it hurts.”

With a stuttering sigh, you proceeded to press both of your hands to your lower stomach, gulping audibly before bringing them further down. Dancing just short of your underwear while your eyelids fluttered shut.

You knew your actions were out of character deep down. Even recognized the shadow of wrongness that distorted the current scene. You weren't supposed to do such things, weren't supposed to feel like that…

But the reality was that you were so excruciatingly warm by that point, and his palm felt so deliciously cold.

When you heard the dreadful siren going off in the distance, the instantly recognizable sound of the Purge starting at last, you were already too far gone to think of anything else but the fingers brushing against the thin cotton of your panties, so close to the evidence of your need soaking through them.

Your parents had told you not to trust strangers online once upon a time. You should’ve really taken their advice more to heart.

。。。。。

But first, perhaps a little tracing of your steps is in order —some necessary context to fully understand the extension of your plight.

You see, earlier that day you had woken up full of a peculiar mix of drive and determination. It was indeed Purge Day, the single day of the year you had grown to fear the most ever since childhood, and yet for once you found yourself oddly relaxed, filled to the brim with resolve instead of your usual nerves.

Which was already an unexpected turn of events, considering you had just gotten a letter notifying you of your selection as one of the accursed Darlings of the Night.

A gentle reminder that, if caught, your life would stop belonging to yourself for an entire dreadful year.

Because a Yandere had their sight on you now, or so the notice had informed you in impeccable typography. Anxious fingertips memorized the slight raise of inked words, inspecting every single detail the letter carried.

You had imagined a monster ready to pounce just outside your door then, fitting enough to be the carrier of your bad news. A preternaturally grotesque being, built from all the Yandere themed horror stories you had heard throughout the years.

And yet there you were, feeling safer in that instant than you had in years; Because this time you had a plan. He made sure to give you one you could easily follow.

Just like he later made sure to welcome you in with a kind smile and awfully persistent hospitality.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

You should've known better than to accept.

。。。。。

In the present, fingers were now dipping under the elastic of your panties, ghosting across feverish skin and encouraging your whimpers to grow louder.

"Is this what you want, then?" The man's breath tickled one of your ears, rough digits gathering your slickness with practiced ease. And he sounded genuinely concerned too, as if your discomfort was not a consequence of his own machinations. "Because I wanna ease your pain, baby. Give you what you truly need."

He barely even touched you yet you were already struggling not to crumble, the desire governing your mind mixing with the new sensations to create a new delirious kind of torment.

Continuing to tease you, the man was relentless in his torture, barely even brushing over your neediest spots. A gentle press of his palm to stimulate you for a moment before pulling back, much to your shameful frustration; Better than nothing, but not close enough.

In his own way, though, he was urging you to speak up. Expecting you to demand what you truly wanted.

Yet as a retort, all you could come up with was gasping out his name, dripping from your lips like honeyed prayers as your hips fought to buck up against his hand.

A sound you afterward repeated a hundred times over. Chanted until its melody became engraved on your tongue and the man was finally caving in, sliding his fingers inside with a smirk.

He had known you'd end up caving, had planned for it for months now, and yet nothing had prepared him for the actual view.

。。。。。

Shou, actually, had been his username when you first met him. Once upon a time recited with a genuine smile and an eagerness to please, such a far cry from the anguished whines it would later lead up to.

You started frequenting the forum he inhabited a few months back. A place which happened to be a hidden corner of the internet for people who did not just stumble upon it, but actually sought it out. A part of the web where its occupants challenged societal norms and, against what society had tried to condition you all into thinking, chose to voice their taboo Anti-Purge sentiments instead.

Sentiments perhaps born either due to the inherent discriminatory nature of the holiday (why was it that Yanderes were accommodated for, while Darlings barely got a warning before they were made prey?), a need for contrarianism (when opposing open kidnappings, assault and other debauchery became an act of rebellion), or just a tenuous moral high ground which made it unbearable to stomach. Whatever the reason, it was your first time encountering such a density of like-minded peers.

Despite attempting to commit yourself to being a lurker, deciding to never post or reply to others, your days had still quickly become consumed by the need to read each and every topic. You were simply fascinated with this new dark corner of the web.

That was, of course, until the aforementioned Shou became the main focus of your attention, a dash of intriguing brightness to break the monotony of your existence.

And like moths rushing to the flame, your curiosity would be your undoing.

There was something about him that pulled you in (along with many others from the community, which tended to flock on his posts whenever he grazed the forums). His username was clearly just a nickname instead of a carefully crafted pseudonym; profile picture just an image of the back of what you all assumed to be his hair, dual-toned strands catching the light in a hypnotic way.

Truly, his disregard for anonymity within those parts was a bigger statement than you were expecting, almost as commendable as it was dumbfounding. There was the nature of his postings too, never subtle about his inclinations or ideas.

How to disarm and reutilize Purge Traps.

Most effective ways to incapacitate a violent assailant.

Government lies and why they matter.

Faking a BOPC (breach of purge code) and getting away with it.

There was little method to the madness that was his forum activity, besides the hint that he was evidently more knowledgeable about the subject than most. Plus the fact that he was proactive about his advice, actually seeking to teach others to fight back instead of just hide away and hope for the best. For another self-proclaimed Darling, Shou was ruthless with his methods —it was hard not to admire him.

And admire you did, keeping tabs of his sporadic bursts of activity and speeding to try and interact with him whenever you caught him online. You were, to voice it simply, simply star-truck by him (and perhaps becoming a bit of a fangirl).

Because whoever Shou was, it felt like he understood you. And so, against every ounce of your common sense or natural paranoia, you had finally decided to break your golden rule and reach out for the first time since you joined the niche forum.

And not to just leave a vague comment agreeing on public discourse, but to actually send him a private message. In your defense, how were you supposed to know the chains of events your actions would start?

Do you actually believe what you post?, had been your lame conversation starter.

Luckily for you, he did not leave you hanging. You made sure to send the message while he was still active, one of the few days a week you knew he devoted to his presence on the site (and wasn't it slightly creepy, how you had taken the time to learn his schedule by that point?)

I wouldn't be here if I didn't, dry, to the point and leaving you embarrassed to have even sent the first question.

Yet for some reason, something about Shou reverted you back into a middle school kid seeking to impress a way cooler senior.

Perhaps it was what he symbolized (a change for the better), what he appeared to be (everything you wish you were) —whatever it was, your fingers were frantically typing a reply as soon as his appeared on your screen.

I just think it's amazingThe things you know

How you share them with everyone

The way you see through the lies

I just think you're— , your digits hovered over the keyboard as you were about to type out the last sentence before quickly deleting it. Even in your excitement, you knew how obsessed you'd sound if you started complimenting him personally in your very first conversation.

So instead you sent your thoughts on his posts and awaited his answer with bated breath. A few minutes ticked by this time, your anxiety making you count down the seconds in mortified silence, slowly weighted down by your doubts until your notifications for the forum were going off again with a distinct ping.

I've seen your replies around. I think you're great too.

Whatever your hang ups for praising him directly had been, he clearly did not harbor any. As the prongs of nervousness alleviated their hold over your body, you struggled to see any problems with it either…this was a person you had come to idolize, and they thought you were great?

Your smile, while still anxious, was considerable while you quickly responded.

I'm just a n00b. Learning from the pros.

A moment of thought, biting your bottom lip as you decided whether to add a second message or not. Fuck it, you told yourself.

I wasn't even supposed to be posting anything, but you made me wanna reach out.

Was that too forward? Oh god, it was, wasn't it? You must've sounded creepy, must've sounded desperate and…

That's cute. Did my ramblings teach you anything?

An actual squeal left you then, sounding like it came from an altogether different person. You were an adult, with a career and responsibilities… Yet somehow, this stranger online indirectly calling you cute made you more excited than you were comfortable admitting.

Ofc. I didn't even know what a BOPC was before. Didn't know most of the purge traps you mentioned, either.

The spaces between replies were getting smaller, the conversation turning fluent as you both seemed to be staring straight into the screen, waiting for the other to finish typing.

So you really are a n00b then.

Shit, did you fail some sort of forum etiquette by admitting that? Somehow, the need to impress Shou was more palpable than ever.

And you clearly know your stuff. Makes me wanna up my game.

Be more like you, you left unsaid.

So am I your senpai then?

Your fingers froze just above the keyboards, eyes scanning over Shou's last message and reverted back to staring at his profile pic for a solid minute. You would've squealed again, if you weren't so taken aback.

You make it sound like I am, his second message lit up your screen, coming in quickly after your rare pause in replies.

I don't think that's bad, though. Third message from him, and you were close to fainting now.

Then in that case I suppose you are. You wondered whether Shou wouldn't think you were pathetic admitting that, or whether he had been honest by saying he didn't mind...

I've also noticed you agreeing with some of my more polarizing views.

A welcomed change in topics.

You thought to ask him which ones (most of his posts tended to have a polarizing effect, with people finding him either too radicalized or not radicalized enough), but before you could formulate the question you saw the twinkling circles symbolizing he was typing up another sentence.

Do you actually believe them? And now it was his turn to spit your words back at you.

Well, yah. You make compelling arguments.

Color me impressed then, the start of his new retort left your mind spinning. Never met a n00b like you before.

After his declaration, you found yourself writing and rewriting your answer, hesitating on your word choice, and yet pure elation coursed through your veins.

He said he's impressed with me, your brain kept supplying on loop. You had no way of knowing just how much of a lasting impression you were leaving.

I don't wanna stay one tho. I'd like to jump a few levels. Improve.

Barely a moment's notice before his last message provoked a noticeable hitch in your breath.

I can help you with that.

Which, as short of a reply as it was, left you giddier than would’ve been healthier to admit.

Perhaps it could be chalked up to your work shifts growing more monotonous and tiresome, your social life becoming a faint echo of what it used to be, or just the regular wear and tear from a too-plain existence —a routine where you didn’t tend to engage with life, but just passively watched it go by.

Whatever the true reason was, that night you went to sleep with such a wide grin that the apples of your cheeks had started to hurt from the exertion, infinitely excited after getting to talk firsthand with someone you had already come to admire by that point.

It almost made you self-conscious, knowing just how much it all meant to you, how such a small gesture on his part happened to mean the world to you.

But there was really no reason to feel ashamed or overzealous over your own reaction. If you could’ve seen Shou, you would’ve known you weren’t the only one smiling.

。。。。。

Almost as open of a smile as the one adorning his features right now, currently hidden from your view as his fingers set a maddening pace. Tortuously slow at first until his knuckles started brushing against your opening with each thrust.

All you could hear now were the wet sounds of your arousal facilitating his movements, motions whose only purpose seemed to be to drive you more rambling and disoriented by the second.

"Is this what you want? What you need, perhaps?" His usually calm voice was uncharacteristically affected as he gasped against your ear, the torture he was making you endure clearly getting to him as well.

You were much too preoccupied with the waves of pleasure and warmth overflowing your body to give a proper response, but your lack of one did not deter him.

If anything, your needy gasps and whines were the only encouragement he required.

"Don't worry, Y/N. I'll take care of you, make you feel good."

By that point, the hand that had been petting your hair had found its way to your sopping heat too, calloused pads circling around your pearl while the man continued feeding you his eager promises.

"I get you, baby. Just like you get me." So close, your entire body taut and ready to snap. "And you want me to take care of you too, right?"

You weren't conscious enough to understand the implications, your impaired judgment prohibiting you from reading further into the meaning of his words. He sounded so encouraging, so deceivingly tender despite stuffing you full of his fingers as you squirmed on his lap.

All you could do was nod furiously.

And later on, when your senses sadly returned, dedicated yourself to lamenting over which of your actions brought you down this unfortunate path.

。。。。。

Perhaps, your consciousness supplied, it had been the fact that you opened up so readily. That you had dared to share with a supposed new friend, things that should’ve better stayed hidden in the first place.

But goddamn it, you felt downright honored that he even considered you worthy enough to entertain in the first place. From the very first second, Shouto already had the upper hand.

During the first few conversations, the topics you two discussed were all closely related to the purge and your mutual hang ups with it. Concise and carefully typed out messages were exchanged, discussing opinions you had never expected anyone to be interested in hearing—not from you, at least.

But then, as the weeks slowly progressed, the subjects of conversation began shifting to both of your lives, to your occupations, hobbies, and, directly against the forum's policy for privacy, the people you two were outside the confines of your online corner.

Even without actually exchanging any real data or supplying him with your name or age, you found yourself starting to open up more and more with each day.

You told him about your grueling office job, the friends you hadn’t seen or texted in weeks, and the reality of an apartment which more closely resembled a containment cell than a home…

Revelations that you had kept hidden for so long, which now came pouring out without regard for how mortified they made you feel. You were conscious of the limits blurring between you two the further you kept going, of how you were telling him things best left unsaid, cramped and buried in a hard to reach place.

And yet, for some obscure reason, everything Shou represented made it impossible for you to resist the temptation to speak up, to demand to be heard for the first time in an eternity of quietness.

You’re pathetic, is what you expected him to say in return. Pathetic, weak, meager, and worthless. Anticipating him, somehow, to echo all the doubts and deeply held fears you carried inside.

Most of my friends don’t understand either, was instead the response you received. But most people don’t see what's wrong, what needs to be changed. You feel lonely because you do.

It wasn’t clear what you would’ve wanted to hear beforehand, the things you had fantasized someone would reply if you ever gathered the courage to share your anxieties. Whatever those expectations had been an eternity ago, they now vastly paled when compared to what your new friend was dangling in front of you.

It felt like he was giving an excuse for things you had always perceived as personal failings. If what he said was true, it would mean it wasn’t your social ineptitude that kept people away, your uselessness, or uninteresting personality.

It would mean the shadows around you could still be dispelled somehow, exorcising the silhouettes of a suffering that had become a regular companion in your day to day life.

Brandishing a courage that only anonymity could give you, your fingers were a blur on your keyboard as you tried to ignore the rapid heartbeat in your chest, the fear, and exhilaration from opening up for the first time in forever.

Something you would later regret a thousand times over.

And you do too, and it wasn’t a question, a nervous comment or a stuttered retort. With the aid of the text format, you could look as confident as you knew you weren’t. You understand as well.

You understand me, was the tacit meaning behind it. The prickling of unshed tears made it so you were furiously blinking, fighting against the downpour despite your eyes refusing to leave the screen for longer than an instant.

I do. More than you realize.

For all intents and purposes, your first mistake was indeed opening up.

And your second one was being naive enough to let him in. Seriously, why hadn’t you heeded your parent’s advice about stranger danger?

。。。。。

...If they could only see you now, coming apart at the seams and with the name of your tormentor being the only word you were able to string together.

"Such a beauty, and all for me," his praises accompanied you through the rough orgasm ripping through your body, lips kissing your forehead in stark contrast to the digits still pumping inside your heat. "Let me hear your voice, baby. Let me hear how beautiful my name sounds on your lips."

And you obeyed, because what other choice did you have. Mindless, broken, and oh, so needy.

You continued to audibly moan as your climax unwound, crying out his name in absolute reverence while Shouto's smile deepened against your skin. The chill of his touch was still as soothing as ever, calming down the embers of a lust that refused to completely die down.

When he finally pulled his hands from your core, you felt excruciatingly empty. But you were not given enough time to wallow in your despair, because who you once considered your friend was then grasping your face gently between his hands, leading your gaze to meet his—forcing you to witness the intensity and adoration present there.

"My Y/N."

Even in your deeply intoxicated state, the last few dredges of your senses supplied just how utterly abhorrent the situation was.

The sirens signaling the start of the Purge had died down a while ago, drowned out by your own cries of pleasure, but you could still see the remnants of the government logo still plastered all over the TV, its bright glow bathing you both in an eerily scarlet ambiance.

From the same weak place of coherence, a shiver of fear managed to break through your stupor.

"You're going to continue to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"

When he kissed you then, slow and almost ironically hesitant despite what had just transpired moments before, you couldn't begin to tell your body to refuse. Much to your own horror, you were soon eagerly kissing your tormentor back.

。。。。。

The second mistake leading up to your downfall, on the other hand, took a little longer to occur. It was after a few more weeks of conversation. You vented and talked way too much, while Shou listened intently and even rewarded you with a few crumbs of advice of his own.

So wrapped up in your new seemingly innocuous friendship you were in, you failed to recognize the magnitude of an event that should've sent you scrambling to shut off your monitor. A warning so loud it would've put the Purge sirens themselves to shame.

You see, with Shou's help, you were slowly becoming more of an active user around those parts. You didn't just stick to replying to his posts or lurking until he shot you a private message anymore; no, you were now officially a contributor, deciding to step out of your anonymity to share what you thought was a fairly interesting article. It was a rather long-winded thinkpiece on the morality of Darlings’ treatment after the Purge had ended—the reality of that year spent in captivity that most people tended to just brush under the carpet, all in the name of making the entire ordeal more palatable to digest.

In all your eagerness, however, you had failed to realize a very crucial detail, which was that the article was a whole two days old. Already an ancient text by forum's standards, apparently.

So with that in mind, of course you should've expected the hate, an outpouring of bitterness fit for a community of loners and acidic underdogs. You were on an anonymous forum on one of the darkest parts of the internet, somewhere most sane people actively stayed away from—Clearly, a rookie unwittingly reposting something was the perfect target for a lot of your bitter comrades. An excuse to finally take out all of their pent up frustration.

Fuck1ng pleb, thanks for copy-pasting the same post for the 55th time.

This is why we shouldn't let newbies post. Look at this mess @mods.

Time to hang it up, n00b. And by “it”, I mean your f****** neck.

i bet ur a girl, [Username]. u type like a b1tch.

And the icing on the cake for internet interactions, a myriad of wall spamming "KYS" being plastered all across the comment section, bold and daunting as they filled your notification box with the repetitions of hate. If you weren't so sure of your safety behind your screen, perhaps you would've felt intimidated.

As it stood, you were just embarrassed, mortified at the fact that you had seemingly botched your only attempt at leaving a positive first impression. If anything, it only seemed you had given everyone a common enemy to pick on for once...

Or that was, at least, until Shou happened to log in at exactly that precise moment. You knew he was usually busy around that day and time (he never actually told you whether he had a job, but you had surmised as much from your past chats), so his instantly recognizable profile picture and username popping up had you genuinely gasping at first. It was one hell of a coincidence, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at what looked to be your savior.

Everyone, stop getting your panties in a twist. This is why no new users end up staying, the environment is abhorrent.

It was vague enough not to betray the fact that you two weren’t just strangers anymore, as well as keeping Shou’s reputation as a lone wolf from completely shattering.

And a comment which, surprisingly, instantly dulled most of the incoming messages your post was being flooded with.

People respected him there, his status as a renowned user giving him a genuine sort of power and hold over the rest of the community. One of the first things you had recognized on the forums was the distinct hierarchical structures amongst its users, and there Shou might’ve as well be granted the title of mayor for all the weight his every sentence carried.

Or at least they did with the majority of the community. As in every place where large numbers of people gathered, there were always a few rotten apples just begging to be tossed.

and ofc ur whiteknighting for her, Shou The Great. shes sucking ur dick under evry single post u make

You cringed, studying the bitter user that had decided to be a contrarian and easily recognizing him from unsavory past encounters you witnessed. Although, if you were completely honest, this time you couldn't exactly say his words didn't carry a certain degree of validity.

Shou had told you he was glad that was the case with you, that his post resonating with anyone was one of the main reasons why he hadn't just disappeared from the site completely. But in reality, saying you weren't subtle about your agreement with his ideas would be an understatement.

You were like a puppy skipping behind him, trailing his interactions and always ready to write an eager comment backing him up. Yet you had never thought others actually paid attention to your mostly one-sided interactions, the occasional meager downvote or emote being the only thing that made you aware your comments weren’t just lost in the sea of spam Shou’s posts were usually showered in.

For the longest time, your support had just felt like leaving letters for the man to find. Letters you hadn’t even been sure had reached their target until a few weeks back...

Suddenly, the sharp sound of Shou's incoming reply drove you from your tribulations.

Well, maybe if you weren't such a crude man you wouldn't be permabanned from starting topics yourself. Although I doubt anyone would be sucking your dick either way, shitty ideology considered. [Image attached]

A grimace was quick to grow on your face as you aptly studied the picture Shou decided to close his reply with.

It was a screenshot of what looked to be someone's post history, a rather extensive list with alarmingly offensive titles such as "Why male darlings should be spared", "The purge is a form of cuckoldry" and “Feminist agenda: female yanderes and their biological advantage [Repost]". Almost all of them exhibited a tragic downvote ratio right as well, besides the red symbol signaling the posts had been archived by senior users or mods.

For someone who also loathed the terrible holiday, it was almost admirable how the man managed to be almost as detestable as the criminals you all rallied against.

But even so, what disturbed you the most wasn't the clear bigotry of the user, but the fact that that screenshot couldn't have been taken from public records. A user's post history was hidden, just another measure on the site’s part to keep people from recognizing too many details about each other and possibly endangering themselves.

No, it could only have been taken from inside the account. And judging from the other guy's quick reaction, you weren't the only one who came to that realization.

how the fck did u get that

I knew u were friends with the mods. fcking rats

By that point, everyone else had stopped clogging the comments and, you assumed, instead opted to settle down and attentively observe the events transpiring. Apart from the emote reactions and the rapidly rising number of upvotes on Shou’s comments, you had all become a passive audience to the public ridicule.

Although you couldn’t help feeling slightly disjointed by Shou’s behavior. Below your wicked sense of pride at having him defend you, there was still the whispers of your gut telling you the man was going a little too far, his actions spelling a more sinister meaning than just “having a friend’s back”.

You've been here for years, Minoru. Surprised you haven't yet noticed how much of a pest everyone sees you as.

Minoru? You did a double-take, going back to read the username of the guy Shou was arguing with. But he just had a randomly generated number as a pseudonym, same as you and most others, and with just a picture of some anime sneezing girl to distinguish his profile from the rest. No trails or signs of what could Shouto be referencing to.

Nothing but an option you preferred not to consider. But it couldn't be, could it? your friend wouldn’t...

fucking delete that right now, man.

this isn't a joke, DELETE THAT.

Only that the abrasive and desperate reaction told you everything you needed to know. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, shock mixing with equal parts horror and amazement you couldn’t even begin to try and disentangle. Because right that second, you were witnessing your friend breaking the forum’s number one rule with a front-row seat to the spectacle.

And he was doing it all in your name.

Then maybe think twice before you go out of your way to harass newbies. Or have you had too much time on your hands after being fired, is that it?

It was vague enough not to represent any kind of threat... if not for the context of the site. And yet you all knew the hidden message behind it, the warning for whoever Minoru was to understand Shou knew much more than what he was letting on. That he could expose much more than he was currently alluding to.

y are u even doing this, shou? y do u care wtf happens to this noobslut anyways?

Shou's reply took barely a moment to appear, lighting up your screen and, despite the slightly morbid nature of his protection, coaxing out a smile to adorn your lips. It was like a balm being applied to your worries, quieting down most of your incipient concerns in favor of rejoicing.

They're a friend.

For fuck’s sake, you even screenshotted that for posterity. Somehow, him acknowledging the new bond you two had openly felt like a milestone.

When a mod came in to archive the post and give everyone involved a stern warning later on, you were already way past your previous doubtful sentiments.

Instead, the last thing you did before going to sleep that day was to open up your private conversation with Shou and send a quick yet heartfelt message of gratitude his way.

Months prior, you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d be thanking anyone for semi doxxing another human being. How rapidly things were changing, though, and all while you got lost in the thrill of mattering.

Thanks for sticking up for me. It meant a lot, you typed feeling slightly lightheaded, drunk on the idea that anyone would think you worthy of having your back.

You thought Shou went offline after dishing out his not so thinly veiled threats, but somehow he was back again in an instant, the sound of notifications going off shaking any remnants of your exhaustion.

Anything for you, [Y/N].

You were so tired, it didn't occur to you that you hadn't yet shared your real name with your friend either.

That night, for once, you fell asleep with a twinkle in your eye and the image of Shou's multicolored locks dancing against your eyelids. Imagining, ever so briefly, your fingers trailing down the back of a neck you now had memorized from analyzing his profile picture.

And, while you slept with your phone clutched to your side, you also failed to notice the peculiar sound of your own camera going off, the soft glow from the red light beside your lense bathing your features in its subtle illumination, flickering against your eyelashes and the lingering grin on your curved lips.

You truly looked angelic like that.

Suffice it to say, Minoru never bothered you again after that day. In fact, his name disappeared from the site not too soon after.

。。。。。

But now, to continue the grueling task of giving a context for your inevitable end, it is necessary to jump a month further into the future, barely a week from the excruciating present.

Because it was then that the last strike finished nailing the coffin of your proverbial undoing, burying you under the weight of your own ignorance.

You got your notice in the mail on the Day of Announcements, an inconspicuous letter lacking any further distinction beyond a scarlet government seal emblazoned across its front. But even before you opened and read the message, you already knew of its contents—easily recognizing the image before you from several of the varied posts you had seen floating around on the forums lately.

Purge Notice!!! Help needed Urgently.

Just got my letter. Do I stay hidden or fight back? [Open poll]

Third time getting mine. AMA about my methods.

The range of how you had seen other users reacting to their own selections was diverse, with some of them being more experienced while others, such as you, had just gotten their first letter ever. If things played out differently for you, then you were sure you would've been another one of the numerous panicked voices, awkwardly trying to maneuver their way out of their new situation.

And maybe, then, your odds wouldn't have been so completely fucked from the start.

As it stood, as soon as you laid eyes on the notice, the first thing you thought of was how quickly you could boot up your computer and open the forum’s private messages. Because, for the first time in forever, you were overwhelmed by the feeling of someone else being there for you.

Shou was your friend, had earned that spot fair and square after months of listening to you venting and sharing deep discussions; faster than you could even realize it, and so it was only natural for you to seek his help once the news of your selection for the new yearly Purge reached you.

He had even threatened another user for your sake, for fuck’s sake. So, really, what harm could come out of relying on someone you were sure was trustworthy?

Maybe it was too late by that point for you to snap out of it, but it was almost amusing seeing you being so easily deceived.

Just another reason why you needed him, certainly.

。。。。。

Already told you I'd have your back, had been his immediate reply barely an instant after you attached a candid photo of your hand holding up the envelope. Whatever you need, I’m here.

His lack of hesitation was palpable through your screen, heart hammering in your chest as you were faced with a kindness you had thought yourself undeserving of not long ago.

As soon as you closed your mailbox, you had immediately raced to send him the message, completely foregoing telling any of your other friends or family members when you doubted they would even understand you in the first place. Shou had been right when he told you people just didn’t want to see the truth, even if it slapped them right in the face, leaving dark imprints in the shape of their narrow mindedness.

But he was there, he was letting you know as much, in his own words. And for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few months, you felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon the Forums in the first place, to have traced whatever fortunate path had led you to find him—the one person able to distinguish you in a world you always thought you blended straight into.

Thank you, Shou, for everything. And at that moment, you really had been truthful, so much so that there were tears prickling at your eyes, an overwhelming feeling of gratitude drowning you with its intensity.

Indeed, your final mistake had been your desperate need for acceptance. A need that had, in the end, cost you everything.

You can call me Shouto now. No use for nicknames anymore.

Amidst the chaos of your life possibly crashing down all around you, somehow his revelation put a trembling smile back in your face.

Then allow me to repeat: thank you, Shouto.

Np, Newbie. Told you I'd help you level up, didn't I?

His teasing managed to garner a small stuttering laugh out of you despite the dreadfulness of your situation.

But you couldn’t help it. Somehow, every reply Shouto sent you only served to wrap the illusion of safety tighter around you. So tight in fact, that you should’ve started worrying about suffocating.

。。。。。

On the other side of the screen, the man with the multicolored hair couldn’t help but keep staring at the picture you had sent him earlier.

He was transfixed, eyes almost unblinking as they refused to separate from the image. The way your fingers tentatively held the letter up for the picture was simply adorable to him. Beautifully naive.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen your face before, like he hadn't already memorized the texture of your skin and the everlasting trace of a frown always threatening to dampen your mood. He read your expressions like poetry, every mole and scar furthering the securing of his interest.

But this was the first picture you had actually chosen to send him out of your own volition, the final symbol of a trust he had worked so tirelessly to earn. Used to catching prey as he was, the man wasn’t entirely sure when you had turned from a game into a priority, from a priority into the only thing he could even make himself care for.

And it didn’t help that it was his letter you were holding, too. His formal declaration of pursuit.

With time, Shouto was sure you would find it in yourself to appreciate the beauty of such irony.

But, for now, what he really needed to do was buy some tea. Couldn’t have your own stubbornness ruining your first encounter, could he?

。。。。。

In the coming weeks, your friend aided you and even coached you as you jointly planned for the horrific holiday, not only suggesting ideas but tracing the safety measures needed for them to succeed. You really had no reason to doubt him by that point.

That evening, after you finished letting Shouto know you were back from work, you made sure to pack all of your supplies into an inconspicuous bag you had acquired for the occasion. Whoever your Yandere was, it was best to not give any hints of your new acquisitions, just in case they were already stalking your movements.

Shouto had helped you devise the list, mentoring you in your selection of weapons as well as self-defense arsenal—what brands of pepper spray to get, which ammunitions were most efficient and reliable, even what kind of clothing was the least troublesome if the need to escape ever arose. If you had been sure he knew his craft before, now you were surprised at just how vast his wisdom genuinely was.

After the last few finishing touches of preparations, you were already on your way to the direction you had both agreed on (supplied by him, approved by you). There were several hours until the start of the Purge still, but the adrenaline swimming through your bloodstream was already considerable.

Shouto had suggested you visited him for the Holiday, quoting how the measures in place for his home made it nothing short of a fortified vault, impossible for any outsiders to break into (and for anyone to break out of, but let's not get ahead of ourselves).

With that in mind, how could you have refused his offer? Your place was barely an excuse for an apartment, windows that didn't entirely close, and feeble doors that could be easily broken into. Even if you weren't partly driven by the curiosity of meeting your new internet idol turned friend, it would've been foolish to decline.

So in a few hours, you were sporting a nervous smile on your face as you parked your car in front of the largest apartment complex you had ever encountered. It was luxurious in a way you had only seen staring back at you from a television screen, marble, and gold accents giving you the impression you were about to step into a drama set instead of visiting an online friend.

Before the surrealism of the entire situation could begin to set in, however, you noticed the young man sitting on the ample stairs of the building. He had an air of effortless elegance, tall and lithe, yet sporting a black turtleneck which hugged his frame and made it clear just how much sheer strength hid behind his movements.

And he also sported the same peculiarly colored locks you had already memorized from the last few months, the light softly reflecting on them proving to be an even more impressive show when admired live.

You were dazzled for an instant, wondering if, somehow, this entire thing was a prank and the Shou from the forums had just schemed his way into making a fool out of you in front of a handsome stranger. Way too convoluted, yet entirely too plausible to your bewildered self.

Until the man lifted his eyes—as beautifully dual-toned as his hair, and catching sight of you standing just beside your recently parked vehicle.

"Y/N," he was sharply climbing to his feet as he called out your name, the shy hint of a smile in his lip contradicting the monotone cadence of his tone. "Good to finally meet you."

You had first been under the impression that the Shou you knew was cold, the way he interacted with others on the site reminding you of an emotionless robot at times, but the man addressing you seemed like he was ripped straight out of a stereotypical rom-com.

Maybe he'd be the aloof, tormented heir? Which, in your fantasy drama land, would make you the nearly illiterate and poor love interest. Your feelings of inadequacy only grew at the comparison.

Almost cute, how that had been one of your greatest worries once upon a time. How foolishly eager you were to be liked back then.

"Shouto." The name still felt somewhat strange on your lips, even after he had insisted you started calling him that. "It's good to meet you, too."

He was by your side in an instant, taking your bags from you swiftly and shutting the door to your ride. From this up close, it became considerably harder to disguise your staring.

Even the scar which covered his left eye, a splash of reddish textured skin, somehow came across like yet another enhancer of his appeal. An underlying harshness which you couldn't help but be intrigued by.

"Your hair looks even better in person."

And leave it to you to once again find a way to screw first impressions. You were chastising yourself a mere second after the words left your mouth.

But Shouto only sent you that same hint of a smirk your way, his eyes appearing genuinely pleased at your praise. If he thought you were a weirdo and was regretting ever inviting you to his house, then he was a good enough actor for you to be fooled.

And fooled you he did, but with completely different intentions.

"You look just like in your pictures," came his serene retort not long after.

Which you assumed was a joke, keeping in mind that the only photo you had ever sent his way had been of the Purge letter you received a few days ago.

Laughing lightly, you tried to ignore the nerves tugging at your chest before catching up with him on the steps of the building.

As you giddily barged straight into the open jaws of the beast, it once again struck Shouto how utterly unsuspecting you were. How you trusted him so wholeheartedly.

He couldn't wait to see it all come crashing down.

。。。。。

Inside his honest to god penthouse, your previous feeling of insufficiency only became more severe.

The interiors were decorated sparingly, albeit fashionably. Filled with different muted shades and being unexpectedly traditional in the way they were designed. It was a stunning abode, even if you couldn't help but mentally point out how utterly unlived in it appeared.

There was not a single cup, shoe, or book out of place, everything perfectly polished and organized to the point that you felt hesitance as your sock-covered feet continued making their way through the place.

"Make yourself at home," Shouto told you most matter-of-factly. If you weren't so sure of his intentions by now, perhaps you would've thought he was being sarcastic.

Without any of your belongings to distract yourself with, you instead gravitated towards what you could see of the kitchen through one of the sliding doors.

It was very modern despite the rest of the aesthetic the penthouse sported, shiny stainless steel and spotless dark countertops. It should've looked out of place when paired with the carpeted floors, wooden furniture, and sparse pieces of classical Japanese art…

Yet somehow, it strangely fits. Just like his owner, you supposed, thinking back to the oddities that amounted to his unique brand of appeal.

And you really needed to stop thinking of your friend like that.

When you heard the door to the apartment being audibly locked with a resounding click, you instantly stopped your fingers grazing the smooth countertops. Your instincts flared up with worry for a moment, right before you forcefully willed yourself to calm down.

After reminding yourself of the true reason why you were there, the exhale you released next was one of clear relief.

"Want something to drink?" Shouto appeared in your line of sight again, hands buried in the pockets of his pants and looking like the picture of composure.

You felt embarrassed once again, knowing he had given you a free pass to roam but still somewhat self-conscious about intruding on his space.

"You don't need to make me anything. I'm fine." Your timbre was apologetic, not used to slipping into the role of a guest just yet.

He seemed strangely dissatisfied with your answer, closing some of the distance between you with a presence that had you almost flinching back for a second.

There was an intensity in his gaze, something which you could not quite yet place.

"But I want to be a good host. So let me." He appeared very serious about it, too, with his face growing stern as his peculiar eyes bore into yours.

Not wanting to cause further distress, you imagined relenting would be the best course of action.

It was like you were molded to be the perfect Darling, so wonderfully meek and gullible.

"Okay then. Water is fine."

Yet Shouto shook his head, still somewhat dissatisfied with your answer.

"Tea it is." His phrasing allowed little space for argument. "I know you mentioned liking a few brands before, so I took the liberty of stocking up on them."

A surprising burst of laughter broke through your anxious feelings then, drawing Shouto's eyes again from the particular cabinet they had drifted to as he mentioned the beverages.

He looked at you puzzled, an unasked question written all over his otherwise blank expression, and so you decided to reply from the surge of unexpected amusement you were experiencing.

"It's only a night, Shou," you didn't even realize you had slipped back into his nickname, too entertained by how much he had apparently overdone his hospitality. "There really wasn't any need for you to go buy my favorite teas."

His eyes blinked quite slowly your way, his expression back to his vacant mask before a smile reappeared.

"I wanted you to feel welcomed," he supplied as he approached the cabinet he was eyeing before, dedicating himself to searching for whatever kind of flavor of tea he had in mind.

In response, you just shrugged your shoulders with another chuckle.

"And I didn't get you anything. You're making me feel even more out of place."

"Nonsense," he cut you off in that deadpan way of his, hands rummaging through the most ridiculously vast tea collection you had ever seen. And then he added, decidedly quieter, "today is supposed to be about you, after all."

Too bad you didn't pick up on it.

When he ushered you back to the salon with barely a wave next, pointing at one of the cushions arranged around the short-legged table, you decided to follow his suggestion and wait there while he finished brewing the drinks. By now, you understood the futility of offering any kind of help when he was still so intent on properly welcoming you.

So, curious as you were, your eyes continued to inspect each and every inch of the apartment, drinking up all the pieces of info you could observe, that you didn't even think of the potential dangers of letting a stranger fix you a cup while you weren't looking.

Unbeknownst to the other, you were both actively counting down the seconds until the Purge started, minds lost to your own inner turmoils from opposite sides of the suite.

And for entirely different reasons, you were both filled with anticipation.

。。。。。

Meanwhile, finally back in the present after retracing the steps that guided you there, it was becoming increasingly hard to compartmentalize the chaos brewing inside you.

Shouto’s lips were the personification of hunger against yours, an inescapable gluttony to mark and consume every single inch of you he could encompass.

After a hint of understanding returned to your body post-orgasm, your vision and the sensations you endured were becoming disturbingly vivid. It was impossible to conceive anything beyond his hands ridding you of your flimsy camisole, palms cold in comparison to the heat you felt, splaying against your sides and slowly making their way up the sensitive mounds of your chest.

“All mine, baby.” You barely registered his teeth nipping at your bottom lip until a shock of pain snapped you out of your trance.

He bit you, and quite harshly too, but when you tried to instinctually pull back his response was to hold you even tighter. Before you could attempt to voice your complaints, his tongue was darting out to clean up the droplets of blood he spilled.

“Out of all the Darlings I’ve played with, you’re the only one I’ve ever even considered keeping, you know?”

And now that had you freezing, even amidst the cloud of desire still muddling your cognizance. His arms pressed you closer still, forcing you to bury your face against his chest, completely unphased by the bloody mess your mouth had morphed into.

Had he tricked others before then? Was that the reason why he was even on the Forums in the first place?

You wanted to ask him what he meant, wanted to demand explanations for a phrase that had dread closing around your neck like a noose. But whatever he slipped into your drink to keep you so awfully responsive and pliable, also appeared to make forming any complex sentences incredibly hard…

Shou, ever the receptive one, caught onto your change in demeanor rather aptly. His face nuzzled your hair softly, humming a calming melody as if you were a scared child who could be so easily reassured. Meanwhile, his hands hadn’t abandoned your breasts, still tenderly kneading them with a touch bordering on worship.

“But I’m glad you weren’t my first, baby. Means I could be all ready for when we met.” He rocked you both as he rested his back further on the sofa, opening his legs wider below you and forcing you to settle closer to his clothed groin with a whimper.

Your arms reached out to grasp his shoulders while you tried to stabilize yourself, the strain of his erection resting snuggly against your still sensitive slit.

"Helped me to know when to pull back," he kept confessing, purposefully thrusting into you while he kept lovingly massaging your chest, fingers twisting your hardened peaks to coax a new kind of mewl to be uttered against his skin. "Wouldn't want you to break now that I've finally found you."

The fact that your bodies seemed to fit so perfectly, even in your impaired state, was not an irony lost on you.

Abruptly, Shouto stopped fondling your breasts in order to maneuver your face again, both of your stares meeting in a vehement standoff before he continued.

“I’ll make this as close to perfection as I can, I promise you.” And you got a direct view of the vulnerability in his uniquely colored eyes, the nature of his words clearly heartfelt despite the atrocities they alluded to.

As you heard him drag his zipper down, the hand clutching your jaw trembling in anticipation, you couldn’t help the new wave of warmth spreading through your body, negating all the fear and anxiousness warring inside you in order to shamefully expose your baser desires.

Now that whatever had been clouding your judgment was pulling back slightly, your thought process had begun to snap back into place, overflowing you with a terrible sense of shame at your own reactions.

He gave you something earlier with your drink, you were sure of it, and yet you couldn’t help but still be horrified at just how much you were enjoying it. Once you felt the flushed head of his cock placidly rubbing against your thigh, the sounds leaving your mouth weren’t ones of complaint, peril or dissent.

Quite the contrary, actually, and it only made Shouto grow bolder.

As the hand clutching your face grew tenser, gripping you with force before tugging harshly, you got the hint. Now painfully following his lead, it wasn't long before the previous pressure against your legs was now resting directly against your cunt.

The pre-cum already gathered on him mixed in with your still oozing arousal, smearing the span of your outer lips as he lightly teased you one last time.

You were so mortified by that point, that if he had offered to end your embarrassment right then and there with one of the several weapons you knew he kept, you would’ve been very inclined to accept.

“... I didn’t even think there was such a thing as 'The One' before, actually.” You hadn’t even realized the man was still talking, ardent whispers getting lost on the intensity of the situation.

His eyes were searching your face, a satisfied twinkle lighting them up as soon as you returned his stare of your very own volition. Perturbed, you wondered if his delusion made him see anything beyond a twisted mix of lust and fear reflected back at him.

“But I now know just how wrong I was, Y/N.” So sure of himself, tone back to the stern cadence you previously associated with him for a moment, gripped by a gravity befitting of his obsession. “Indeed, I think you were always meant to be my darling… don't you agree?”

To your credit, you did struggle to speak up, to gain back the control over a body which had stopped listening long ago. Too bad you only managed a single pitiful word out.

“Shouto…”

But before you could even fathom attempting a better response, he was breaching into you, sheathing himself with an ease you wished you could overlook, turning your voice from an anguished plea into outrageously labored moans.

You had once thought Shou had been interested in you because he somehow perceived you as anything but pathetic, but you were beginning to think it had been your weakness which drew him in all along.

So deliciously frail, that even a predator like him had been driven with an urgent need to protect you. To break you down, just so he could be the one to build you back together.

As he started fucking you with shallow thrusts, hips bucking up from the sofa while he tenderly guided you until your body was mimicked his motion on its own, you couldn’t help but be the most disturbed at his oddly affectionate ways.

As awful as it sounded, now that your mind had awakened from its stupor all you wanted was for him to bend you over and abuse you, manhandle you and mistreat you in a way which unequivocally screamed assault. You wanted bruises painting your skin, proof that you hadn’t just willingly given up and facilitated your own ruin.

He was humiliating you despite the pretty words he decided to disguise it as—showing you how easily he could own you and even make you enjoy it, drug-addled drink or not.

But as his mouth latched around one of your hardened nipples, sucking generously until his name was once again fast on your tongue, you also couldn’t deny the crystal clear responses you were giving.

You could attempt to lie to yourself later, could swear it was all a delusion born out of the deranged man's mind, but the particular brand of your screams was unmistakable.

When your own hand reached down to facilitate your release, you knew you were already acting beyond what you could've previously attributed to the drugs. Toying with your bundle of nerves, you rested your forehead against Shouto's shoulders, tears from the pleasure mixing in with the subjacent agony of your guilt.

Why did it have to feel so good? And how far did the drugs truly affect you? Or had they just peeled back your inhibitions perhaps, baring you until all you had were dark desires and no self-control to contain them.

You still tasted blood inside your mouth when your walls started clenching around his cock, the coppery flavor entirely too vivid on your tongue. Hearing his own choked groans gasping against your chest, you felt his mouth abandoning your bud with a pop before his kisses were trailing a path back up—eager in their search of your face, your lips.

You were still cumming by the time a lascivious kiss connected you two again, unwinding in his grasp until his hands were the only thing keeping you whole.

“Even if I wasn't taught how,” he began promising while his rhythm grew frantic, barely resisting the allure of your core fluttering around him. “I promise I’ll love you, Y/N. Love you so good, you won’t ever want to leave when the next Purge comes.” He was getting increasingly excited by his own words, imagining a future where you did not need the aid of a little cup of tea to eagerly kiss back. “I’ll fuck you every day, fill you up and show you just how much I care. How much you matter.”

Faced with his degenerate promises, all you could do was gasp out his name one last time, perhaps seeking to express your reticence, perhaps oddly excited by the image he was painting.

You indulged him in the pitiful sound of your whimpers molding around its syllables, and it wasn’t long before you were coaxing him to join you with an orgasm of his own.

He actually came inside, you recognized inwardly after the aftershocks of enjoyment now quieted down to a lull, a new type of dread quickly following the realization. His cum was still shooting in hot ropes, stuffing you to the brim with the intent and purpose of a man bent on marking you, owning you.

But Shouto was so loving as he kissed you time and time again, painfully reminding you of just how nice he could be for you, how gentle and attentive. It made the lines between your tormentor and a traditional lover blur even further, the confusion clouding your sense not merely born out of narcotics any longer.

You had been so preoccupied with a monster outside your house once. A creature ripped from the kind of movies that were ripe with cheap scares and considerably cheaper thrills.

But monsters never were like that in real life, were they? As the man continued to cradle you in his arms like the most vulnerable of creatures, you were suddenly struck by how glaringly obvious things should’ve been from the beginning.

Because your Yandere’s obsession had not come with claws and a row of sharp teeth. No, it came instead with a suit of deception to hug its frame, the bait of acceptance, and the promise of a reliable ear to comfortably listen. It arrived with whispers that assured you that you were not alone, that it was not you who was flawed, but the world for not welcoming you.

It dangled everything your little heart desired, so by the time you were reaching out, you were simply too distracted to notice the dangers of the abyss you were throwing yourself at.

Luckily for you, Shouto had made such a void his home. And for however long it took you to consider the darkness as your own, his was a kind of hospitality that no amount of your struggles could ever hope to wear down.

And if the worst came to pass, if you kept stubbornly refusing and fighting despite your odds? Well…

He could always brew you another cup of tea.

-------

Well, I can finally rest now 💀

This monster of a one-shot took me a lot longer than expected, so I ended up being a lil later to the collab that I would’ve liked. Either way, I’d really appreciate hearing any feedback or opinions on either the fic or art (or both?)... I swear that’s what keeps me motivated ;___;

So fr, thanks to everyone who takes the time to let me know your takes! y’all are the bests of the best 🖤 And speaking of bests of best, special thanks and gratitude to the actual angels who helped and gave me feedback for both the art and/or fic @reinawritesbnha , @drxwsyni, @wootato, @snappysnapo and @coyambition. Don’t catch me seeing y’all drop your crowns bc it’s on sight 😠 👑

#bnha fanart #todoroki #yandere todoroki #todoroki x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #mha fanart #bnha x reader #todoroki fanart #todoroki smut #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #anime fanart #bnha smut #bnha art #artists on tumblr #just art tingz

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eievuimemes · 3 years ago

Text

LYRIC RP SENTENCE STARTERS

“All that we wish is escape from the choices we make.”

“Can’t think, can’t sleep, can’t breathe.”

“Come along for the ride.”

“Did you think it was supposed to look like the poster?”

“Doesn’t anybody ever get it right?”

“Doesn’t anybody think that I hear?”

“Don’t you think it’s time I should try to get along?”

“Don’t you think this has happened before?”

“Everyone isn’t bad.”

“Forget the ache of yesterday.”

“Give me the chance and you’ll see.”

“Gotta get you to the other side.”

“Gotta make it in time.”

“Grip the moment like you’re gripping the earth.”

“Grip the moment.”

“Hey there, shadow.”

“I am not afraid of you at all.”

“I blame myself first.”

“I cannot compete with you.”

“I could never love again.”

“I gotta be great by any means.”

“I have nothing left to lose.”

“I ignored the truth.”

“I never dreamed that I could go.”

“I only ever wanted to come home.”

“I see her smiling.”

“I tried to fight.”

“I want to know just what the hell are you thinking.”

“I will not cry, I’m okay.”

“I've tried so hard to play their way.”

“If you step any closer, you’ll be eating some teeth.”

“It keeps me scared.”

“It’s a dangerous place.”

“It’s a monster made of memories.”

“It’s always shining somewhere.”

“It’s my instinct.”

“I’m deadly sharpshooting the game.”

“I’m just not like you.”

“I’m six feet deep.”

“I’m sleeping with the enemy.”

“I’m transforming to a better version.”

“I’ve been watching you changing.”

“Just leave it alone.”

“Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Let the critics choose.”

“Looking back, it was well worth it.”

“Looking for nothing short of a miracle.”

“Mixing lies with the truth.”

“No one believes me.”

“No ‘I’ in ‘team,’ but there's ‘con’ in ‘economy.’”

“No, I don’t regret it. It was my decision.”

“Nobody feels the things that I do.”

“Nothing you can say or do will ever stop me.”

“Please don’t take him just because you can.”

“Please don’t take him.”

“Please just let me go if you’re done.”

“Please set me free.”

“Please, won’t you let me go?”

“Put up your walls, and we’re hopping the fence.”

“Sorry, I had to settle the score.”

“Stay. You’re not gonna leave me.”

“That doesn’t mean that the same thing will happen to me!”

“There’s been no reconciling.”

“There’s no forgetting you.”

“There’s no shred of evidence ‘cause I don’t bleed.”

“There’s no shred of evidence.”

“This boy’s like the rest.”

“This is gonna hurt.”

“This whole execution is aim.”

“Up all night ‘cause I can’t sleep.”

“We get to the end, but that’s where we begin.”

“Were you expecting adventure?”

“Were you hoping for fun?”

“We’re breaking the mold.”

“We’re taking over.”

“What a beautiful party.”

“What am I missing?”

“Whatever are you going on about?”

“When he first asked and I said no, he asked me twice.”

“Who said you’re one in a million?”

“Why don't you settle down?”

“Why don’t we go dancing in the rain?”

“Work ‘til you bleed.”

“You are built to last.”

“You are the fire, I’m gasoline.”

“You are the only one who holds the key that could free you.”

“You can beg all you want to.”

“You decide the ending.”

“You do your job and I'll do mine.”

“You nail yourself to the cross.”

“You never said sorry.”

“You never wanted us here.”

“You see only what you want to.”

“Your scars are a reminder, you are a survivor.”

“Your story’s worth defending.”

“Your worth is determined by your sacrifices.”

“You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“You’re an ocean away.”

“You’re choking me.”

“You’ve hardly touched your dinner.”

#lyrics sentence starters #lyrics rp starters #lyrics rp sentence starters #rp meme #sentence starters #( listening to certain songs on loop lately so here we are w/ more lyric sentence starters lol )

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years ago

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The Best Christmas

Based Off Of These Asks since there are so many...I had to make a whole tag for them.

A/N: I hope everyone had a great day!! Here is my little gift to you guys...some fluffy Christmas smut!! The smut is there and filthy, but I couldn't not give y'all some of the fluffy feels...I just couldn't help myself, so I hope it doesn't suck lol. Also, I’m adding this to A Series of Firsts...Enjoy🙃❤️

Even though this Christmas was a bit bittersweet since neither you nor Harry could spend the holiday with your families, it still managed to make its way to the top of you and Harry’s “Best Christmases” lists. Why? Because it was the very first Christmas you and Harry spent together since the beginning of your relationship. Sure the milestone came about by means of a global pandemic and yes the both of you wished that you could be with your families. But you and Harry were very willing and able to put all of that aside and focus on the positive that is your first Christmas together. Now since you two were living together for the past year (or however long this pandemic has been raging on), and it was your first Christmas, you and Harry made sure to pull out all the stops when it came to decorations and holiday activities. Well it was more so you than Harry on the excitement, but you were more than willing to include him.

Harry had a little bit of an extended break from filming, so once production wrapped for the remaining part of the year, the holidays officially began for you two and it started at the tree farm where you and Harry picked out the best tree you could find for your home. It took a little bit of bickering, a couple pouts here and there, along with some kisses, but the two of you were able to find and agree on the perfect tree. Along with said tree, you also bought tons of decorations for the house. And by tons, you meant tons. There were enough decorations to not only decorate your house, but yours along with someone else’s. While Harry called it crazy and overboard, you called it being festive and in the holiday spirit. And that’s all you really cared about along with essentially making the house a Christmas wonderland because you knew that no matter how much he teased you for it, Harry loved and thought that it was cute, overboard and all.

In the few days leading up to the 25th, you and Harry spent your time binge watching just about every Christmas movie on the planet, dancing around the house to your favorite Christmas music, and baking until you both were in sugar induced comas. Along with taking part in the happy festivities of the season, you and Harry also spent time talking to your families and trying your best at making up for the lack of your physical presence. And while you two were incredibly happy to be having your first Christmas together, it still stung to be away from your families for the first time, especially under these circumstances. But despite this bump in the road, you and Harry remembered the one thing that always got you both through any situation that wasn’t what you’d hoped. You two remembered that you had each other. And that with each other, you were going to have the best Christmas.

And when the day arrived, it really was the best.

For starters, you and Harry had the best morning sex ever. Aside from enjoying the seasons festivities together, you and Harry were also enjoying the continued stream of sex. It was absolute bliss to wake up on Christmas morning, nestled deep into the warm covers and tangled up with your lover. Add a round of slow, passionate, soft, and absolutely lazy morning sex into the mix and you were in heaven. And that was the perfect description of you and Harry’s morning. The both of you lazily moved with and against each other as you moaned into each others mouths and brung each other to your releases. It was absolutely amazing and the perfect way to start your day together.

“Merry Christmas baby” You hum softly, bringing your mouth to his for another kiss.

“Merry Christmas bub” He hums back to you with a sleepy smile spread across his face, closing the gap between your mouths. It was only supposed to be one kiss. But given the fact that it was you and Harry, on top of the fact that it was a milestone in your relationship, that kiss quickly escalated to another round of lazy morning sex which unsurprisingly topped the first round. The both of you were already incredibly sensitive from the first time so when you two went at it again, you and Harry exploded around each other.

After regaining the feeling in your lower halves, you and Harry begrudgingly pull yourselves from the warm and toasty bed, throwing the clothes that were strewn about from the night before back on and heading downstairs to call your families and then exchange the gifts you’d gotten for each other. Since it was a bit late in the morning in Los Angeles and there was a sizable time difference between there and London, when the two of you made your calls, the evening had already rolled around back home. But that didn’t stop either of you from gluing yourselves to your computer screens. It was just so nice to talk to your friends and family back home and have that connection even though you were so many miles apart. After talking and catching up with everyone, you and Harry said your goodbyes along with promises of talking more the next day before hanging up completely, leaving you both alone to get your first Christmas together going. To start things off, the two of you moved on to your gift exchange, which was filled with many pleasant surprises. You’d been giving each other gifts for a good while now and none of them topped the ones you’d gotten for each other this year. All of them were absolutely amazing and incredibly thoughtful, and the both of you prided yourselves on giving thoughtful gifts. While Harry gave you all of the gifts he’d gotten for you, you gave all of yours but one. It was special and you were saving it for later on.

But until then, you and Harry decided to have a Christmas themed spa day. After making breakfast, the two of you did everything from taking a warm bubble bath that had a strong and welcomed scent of sweet candy cane, to giving each other facials. The two of you even gave each other Christmas themed nails and had a little competition on who gave the best ones. And in the midst of all of this, the two of you were happily drinking the wine you loved so much while watching your all time favorite Christmas movies (rewatching them because they were just that good), randomly stopping every once in a while for a spontaneous round of sex. It wouldn’t be a Harry and Y/n Christmas if there was no random sex. You just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It’d either start off with a kiss that sucked you and Harry down the rabbit hole of pleasure beyond compare or it’d be a simple proposition that neither of you could deny. Either way, the sex was absolutely amazing every single time.

As the day lingered on, the pampering came to a nice end, (Harry won the nails competition and the both of you had the softest skin in the world), the Christmas movies had ended, and there was only a little less than half a bottle of wine left from the two bottles. The evening was finally coming around for you and Harry and it was getting closer and closer to the end when you would give him his final gift of the day. After taking a little nap to curb the headache that was forming for you both from all the wine, you and Harry made yourselves Christmas dinner for two and completely devoured it before going back upstairs to get ready for bed. The two of you were already on the same page for this process because once you hit the top of the steps you and Harry went right into getting another bubble bath ready. You chose a different scent from the last time, still in the Christmas realm, and you relit the candles that were burning a bit earlier. Once the bathroom is transformed into an aromatic oasis, you and Harry remove all of your clothing and sink down into the warm water and bubbles.

“Today was a good day.” Harry sighs behind you, breaking the silence and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you tighter against him.

“It was.” You reply happily. “First Christmas together, success.” You continue on.

“It was amazing.” He reminisces, bringing his head down to press a kiss to your temple. “Can’t wait to spend so many more with you baby.” He whispers happily.

“Me neither.” You reply excitedly, pulling yourself out from his grip and slowly turning around to straddle his lap. “But nothing will beat our first.” You continue, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing your fingers to the hair on the back of his neck.

“And this is just be beginning of all the first Christmases we’re gonna have lovie.” He says, causing your mind to immediately flicker to your future together and all of the firsts he was talking about.

“I can’t wait.” You whisper as you smile down at him, your voice filled with contentment and happiness from today and for the future.

“I love you.” Harry says, wrapping is arms around your lower back.

“I love you more.” You reply, bringing your mouth down to his for a sweet kiss. When your lips connect, sparks go off in your bodies. It was a very familiar feeling to you both but it was also a bit rare of a feeling too. Whenever you and Harry touched or kissed there was always a similar feeling to this one. But this feeling the two of you felt in this moment was ten times the normal feeling. Maybe it was the underlying conversation you two were having about your future together or something, you weren’t completely sure. What you do know is that you never wanted to depart from this feeling. You wanted to relish in it and never let it go. Luckily for you, being with Harry meant that you were going to be feeling this way many more times going forward.

As the kiss continues on, you and Harry begin to softly move yourselves against each other, getting yourselves a little riled up. When you feel Harry’s cock beginning to harden beneath you, you pull your lips away from his a little.

“I have another present for you.” You mumble against his lips.

“What is it?” He questions, tightening his arms around you.

“If I told you right now it wouldn’t be a surprise. But if we get out of here I can give it to you.” You barter.

“Let’s get out of here then.” He agrees excitedly, loosening his arms from around you. The two of you then step out of the tub and right into the fluffy bathrobes your mom sent over for you and Harry.

“Now you go in there and wait for me on the bed and I’ll be in shortly.” You explain.

“Don’t be too long.” He pouts down at you before pressing a wet kiss to your forehead and walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, leaving you alone to change. As soon as the door closes behind him, you go straight to the cabinet underneath the sink to reveal the box you’d hidden under there the day before. You quickly pull it out and you sit it on the counter before lifting the lid to reveal the lingerie you’d bought for the occasion. Since Harry loved seeing you in it and ripping it off of you, it was the perfect gift to give him. Especially the set you’d picked out. To stay in the Christmas spirit, you bought a sexy Santa lingerie set for him. Now there were many sets out there for you to choose from, but there was one that was just perfect and it was definitely something that Harry would love. There wasn’t much to it, only satin and a little white fur to really give it that Santa feel. It was ruby red and barely there with bows covering both of your nipples, and one covering your folds. There were small ties on the sides of your panties that could and would be snapped by Harry in an instant and there was a little fur lining at the top hem of the tiny panties and the top edges of the barely there cups of your bra. There was an underwire for a little support but the only fabric was the fur and the four sort of thick satin bands that formed the bow right at your nipples. It was absolutely perfect and you thought you looked amazing in it.You do a final once over in the mirror, adjusting the lingerie on your body and pulling the Santa hat onto your head. Once you’re completely done, you take a deep breath and you open the door to enter the bedroom.

When you walk in, you see Harry sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for you, he didn’t even bother to change out of the robe. When he sees you step out of the bathroom, his jaw drops right to the floor. Harry was so glad the lamp on the bedside table was turned on because he needed to see all of you right now. You looked absolutely phenomenal in the lingerie. The material wrapped around your body perfectly and it accentuated your features. And per usual, there was so much to take in and Harry was in sensory overload with it all. He was literally drooling at the sight of you. The lingerie wasn't the present, the present was you.

“Santa, baby, I just want daddy to fuck me so bad.” You say in an innocent tone as you get even closer to Harry. “That’s all I want for Christmas. I just want daddy to fuck me nice and hard and dirty.” You continue as you climb into his lap. When you do this, Harry stops breathing for a second. He was so overwhelmed from how hard he was now and from how good you looked and from what you said that he forgot how to breathe. “Can I have that Santa?” You pout, moving yourself around in his lap to tease him a little. When you do this, Harry snaps out of his trance and quickly lifts you both up from the edge before throwing you back down onto the middle of the bed.

“You just can’t get enough huh?” He asks, swiftly undoing the robe and shrugging it from his shoulders before crawling on top of you. “Always wanting daddy t’fuck you.” He chuckles, taking in your appearance below him. “You should be glad that Santa and daddy are the same person doll.” He teases before pulling at the ties to undo them, tossing the garment behind him. He then grips onto your forearms, quickly pulling you up and reaching a hand behind you to undo the bra, tossing it in the same direction as the panties once it’s off your body, leaving you in just the Santa hat that was on your head. Instead of taking your naked body in before digging into you, Harry just digs in. He pushes your legs farther apart before leaning down between them to lick a wide stripe up your already sticky folds, spitting down onto you on his way back up. Harry then wraps a hand around his girthy shaft and gives himself a few tugs before moving to hover over you, resting his forehead right against yours. “I love it when my presents are fuckable.” He whispers as he lines himself up with your entrance and begins to push into you.

“Yes daddy! Your cock f-“ You moan loudly as your eyes roll back, as you immediately reach up to claw at his bicep as he sheathes his large member with your walls. Even after so many rounds on and off throughout the day, you never failed to be stunned at how good it felt for him to be inside you.

“M’gonna fuck you so good baby.” He grunts as he pushes the last bit of his cock up into you. “Gonna fuck you real good.” He breathes out to you. And without wasting any time, Harry begins to piston his hips into you, pushing himself into you as deep as possible. The both of you were moaning messes, enjoying the pleasure that came from Harry’s thrusts. Harry felt right at home from the way your warm walls were gripping onto his cock. No matter how many times he fucked into you, Harry would always consider your walls to be magical. You were always tight, warm, and wet for him; absolutely perfect. As he continued to slam into your cunt, you were falling apart. It felt so good to have him pounding into you like this. It was quick and it was dirty. Harry was continuously and deliciously slamming his cock up into you while you cried out and withered below him from the pleasure. You were getting exactly what you’d asked for.

The room was filled with your combined moans and cries as Harry continued on slamming into you. The only other sound in the room was the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of your drenched pussy. When his hips begin to slow down and he starts to push and hold his cock inside of you, that was the signal that he was nearing his release. As he did this, you too were rapidly approaching your release. You could feel his cock digging into your sweet spot and you could also feel the curly hairs around his cock pushing back and forth against your tingling clit.

“Need t’cum daddy!” You cry as you try and connect your mouth with his, beginning to become overwhelmed with your need to let go around him.

“Cum with me sweetheart.” He slurs, feeling the warmth from his release beginning to flood his entire body. “I got you another present too doll.” He grunts as he delivers a final thrust between your legs, shoving his cock all the way up into the deepest part of your pussy, catapulting you both right over the edge and into your blissful releases. “It may arrive a bit late though” He chuckles though his labored breaths as he continues to flood your walls with his cum. And as he lets go, you let go as well, squirting all over him, getting not only his lower stomach wet but the sheets below you two wet as well.

Once the two of you are completely done, Harry slowly pulls out of you, triggering the thick stream of his cum to begin pouring out of you and onto the wet sheets below. He quickly reaches over to turn the light out and collapses right onto the bed next to you, making to throw an arm around your waist.

“Maybe next Christmas we can work on your present.” You hum, feeling yourself beginning to doze off.

“That sounds like a plan.” Harry readily and happily agrees before shifting closer to and following after you and drifting off to sleep.

Even though your first Christmas together wasn’t under the best of circumstances, it was still one of the best. All you needed was each other. And once you had that, everything was bound to be perfect.

Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry x reade #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writings #my harry writing #husband!harry #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

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Moving On

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

*No gendered terms are used for reader

Warnings: Past cheating, angst, fluff, protective Aizawa, Hawks is kinda an asshole

Word Count: 1.1k

Author’s Note: This is a part 2 to Alarm. Tbh I’m not loving the way I ended this. I wanted to make it smutty but I’ve hit a block, I’m having the hardest time trying to write detailed smut for some reason. But It’s alright, so I’ll make a third part that’s exclusively smut. No telling when that’s coming out.

Enjoy~

8 months living with Shouta after Keigo broke your heart for the last time. 2 months set on leaving once you could save enough to live on your own, 6 months staying because Shouta had the room and quite enjoyed the company of an old friend that wasn’t obnoxiously loud or openly kinky. It’s been nice, honestly. He came home late a lot, which wasn’t surprising since he’s a teacher on top of being an underground hero. But he doesn’t smell like someone else. He smells like him, or dirt, or blood or gunpowder or some random mixed concoction from fights and teaching. Not that you cared what he came home smelling like.

You don’t care that he’d pulled your hair back when you’d throw up after drinking your tears away, or that he makes you breakfast even when you insist you do it yourself. You really don’t care that he carries you to bed when you pass out on the couch after a long night. It doesn’t matter that he occasionally compliments the way you look whenever he sees fit, whether you’re about to go out or just woke up. It doesn’t matter that his eyes linger on you when he thinks you don’t notice. You don’t care that he can tell when you’ve had a bad day and guides you to the couch before bringing you a steaming cup of tea and watching whatever movie you felt like watching.

No, you didn’t care. No chance. Not at all.

Today is Sunday, meaning you’re out with Shouta on the weekly grocery run. This particular system was implemented when you’d gone on your own grocery run and had come home with more than you were capable of carrying in one trip, even with your impeccable balancing skills. Shouta’s response was to just go with you to make life easier.

You split off from him once you enter, the both of you going to retrieve your respective items. Somewhere in the middle you stopped dead in your tracks when a big, brilliant red feather floated in front of your face. It flew up and over your head, and you knew who had stopped behind you. You refused to turn around, you weren’t ready to see him again. Not yet.

“Not gonna look at me pretty bird?” Your whole body tensed at the pet name, and the voice that held it. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your resolve and turned to face him.

“What are you doing here, Hawks?” He visibly deflated at the use of his hero name. From the looks of it, he wasn’t here to shop. No basket in his hands that were stuffed into his pockets. Was he watching you?

“I...wanted to see you.”

“You have no right to want to see me.” His wings drooped behind him. He was hurting. Good.

“How have you been bab-”

“No. You don’t get to use pet names anymore. You don’t get to do that to me, Hawks. And if you must know, I’ve been perfectly fine.” You spit out the last part with a bit of venom, intending the aggression in your voice. With a huff you turned to walk away.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.” Before you could take a step a hand wrapped gingerly around your wrist.

“Please, I...Give me another chance. I…,” Don’t you dare say it, “I miss you.” You turned back around, his chest nearly touching yours and you smelled it. You smelled Keigo. He didn’t smell like cigarette smoke and expensive liquor.

“Ever since you left I haven’t gone back to him. I’ve changed, y/n, I promise! Please just let me love you again. Please.” He was begging. Really, truly begging. But it’s funny, turns out it’s true that you don’t know what you have until you’ve lost it. He realizes he’s lost you, and now he’ll have to realize he’s not getting you back. Before you can open your mouth to say anything, you’re being pulled back by the collar and suddenly your face is in a broad, strong chest.

One that smells like fresh coffee and men’s body wash.

“I don’t think you have any right to even be standing here, let alone begging to let you back into their life, Hawks.” That baritone voice was unmistakable and familiar, the disdain in it not so much. You’d never heard Shouta sound so...angry. Then his voice was in your ear, much softer now.

“Are you okay?” You nod your head and peek up at him, watch as he looks back to the blonde with a hardened expression, his jaw clenched tight, glare intimidating as ever. His arms were still around you, holding your body into his protectively with a hand on your lower back and one at the base of your neck.

Two baskets were forgotten on the ground as the two men glared at each other.

“I’d say we should let y/n decide that, old man.” Before Shouta could get a word in you snapped at him.

“I decided 8 months ago. Now go, hawks. This is your only warning.” You could see, just out of the corner of your eye, as he froze in place with a sharp inhale.

“Y/n-” You pushed away from Shouta and spun around to glare at the blonde. Whatever he was about to say caught in his throat. Then he got defensive. With a trained expression and a quirked brow, he leaned back on his heels.

“So. You left me for the old man, huh. What does he have that I don’t?” Shouta let loose a bit of a growl, but you put a hand up to his chest and he huffed but stopped advancing. In that moment you decided you were going to stick a knife in and twist.

“For starters, loyalty, and honesty.” Without a second thought you twisted your fist into Shouta’s shirt and tugged, smashing your lips onto his. Good lord did it feel good. He was tense at first, but it wasn’t long before he relaxed and tugged your body closer. His lips were soft, just slightly chapped, tasting like coffee and his peppermint toothpaste that you can’t quite handle cause it’s almost spicy. It stole your breath and made your lungs burn, but you just wanted more of him, more of Shouta. You almost let your tongue dance with his, but you broke away and greedily gulped air into your lungs. You didn’t miss a beat, turning your head to Hawks and meeting his golden gaze with your own.

“And he’s a much better kisser.” He was frozen in place as you and Shouta picked up your baskets and strolled to the checkout, a large hand on the small of your back and a rare, small smile gracing the man’s lips.

#shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa #eraserhead #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #aizawa mha #aizawa bnha #shota aizawa #shota aizawa x reader #hawks bnha #hawks mha #keigo takami #takami keigo

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miss-bridgerton · 4 years ago

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for real l anthony bridgerton x you l part one

word count: 1,887 words

pairing: anthony bridgerton x you

author’s note: part 1 finally! it’s not much going on, but this is just the beginning.

taglist: @fact-fictionx @alainabooks143 @michael-loves-chickens @misstonybridgerton

summary: Everyone knew that the Viscount was a rake. Except for, apparently, three young women who clung to his every word. Anthony Bridgerton was in fact charming. But he was absolutely terrible at dating three women at once. Some would call him a dunce for doing so. Others might call him a hero. Adelia Byron called him dead when she found out. Set out on revenge, she and the other two young ladies, Bette DuPont and Siena Rosso, decide to transform a lonely bakers girl into someone who can break the heart of the Viscount.

PART 1: THE SOCIETY PAPER THAT CAUSED A SCENE

YOU HAD NO IDEA that a gossip column would be the cause of a brawl in your family’s tea shop and bakery: The Fancy Teapot.

Overly priced earl grey tea? Oh, absolutely.

Chairs that pinched the bottoms of debutantes and their mammas? Pinched bottoms surely caused nasty sneers a plenty.

But the latest gossip from the squares’ paper? You certainly didn’t see that coming.

It was all because of the Viscount. Lord Anthony Bridgerton was indeed charming. He had that smile that they all seemed to fawn over. His hair was swept in all the right places. And he was a British nobleman.

What more could a young lady want?

You rolled your eyes at the words that frequented that paper. What more could a young lady want? Well, for starters, you wanted freedom. You wanted to bake. You wanted to explore different cities. Eat exotic foods. Tell stories to your future nieces and nephews of your adventures. You didn’t care about marriage, no matter how many times your sister-in-law pushed it on to you. You just simply wanted to. . .experience life.

Unlike the young women who frequented The Fancy Teapot. They were all scouring for eligible unmarried men. It was what they were taught. It was all that they knew, really.

And two debutantes who enjoyed sipping tea in The Fancy Teapot had no idea that they were both courting the Viscount. Until it came out on paper, that is.

It was a sunny spring morning and the social season had sprung in London. You loved the social season for the money it brought the tea shop, but you absolutely loathed the social season for the debutantes and their snooty behavior. They were all perfect. Beautiful gowns. Rosy pinched cheeks. The stink of wealth swarmed them like bees attracted to honey.

You had none of those things. You came from a working family. You came from two different countries. Your father had travelled to (a country of your choosing) where he met your mother and they fell in love and married within a week of him being there. Your father had convinced your mother to leave everything behind to be with him in London, but her one condition was to open a tea shop and bakery.

He clung to his part of the condition. Soon after opening the shop, your older brother Jack was born. Five years later, you were born. For a short while, it was the four of you. Kids running through the tea shop, experimenting with teas, you found the love of baking with your mother, and your parents were still so madly in love it was almost embarrassing. Sadly, your mother became ill and passed away two years ago.

The death was stricken. And hard on you. But it was your father that you and Jack worried after, for it was almost as if he became a different person. As if he lost a part of himself when your mother died. He tried to drink his sorrows away at the pubs, and fancied spending too much money on gambles and bets.

That morning, he was nowhere near the tea shop, probably somewhere betting on poker chips, when you had to break apart two debutantes from nearly mauling each other.

Adelia Byron was with her friend, Cressida Cowper, at a small table near the colossal windows. She didn’t say thank you or even acknowledged your existence when you set down her steaming chamomile tea and slice of cornish hevva cake. You rolled your eyes at the way she gloated over the attention she received at the Warwick ball. Adelia was still on a thrill from two nights before, where the touch of the Viscount’s hand on her back as they danced was still on her. She dreamt of his gorgeous eyes. And when she saw the bouquets of roses addressed to her that morning, she was in total bliss.

Her friend, Cressida, was jealous. Adelia knew it. And if there was something Adelia Byron was known for, it was that she enjoyed bragging. Her father was a Baron, which made her quite eligible for marriage to a Viscount. She had elegant features: Dark red hair, stormy eyes, high cheek-bones. She had already received three proposals but Adelia knew what she wanted. Who she wanted.

Simply put, nobody else would do. She was going to marry the Viscount. And God help her and anyone who got in her way.

On the other side of The Fancy Teapot, situated at a round table underneath an elegant painting by your brother Jack, was Elizabeth DuPont and her overbearing mother, Colette. Elizabeth, often called Bette, was the daughter of The Marquess of DuPont. So her marriage to a man of great wealth and a powerful title was extremely vital. To her mother, at least.

Bette was fond of the Viscount. He swept her away with his words, he was impressed with the way she could speak French and German, and the kiss he laid upon her gloved hand sent a thrill through her body. She couldn’t bear to tell her mother that when she went out to the balcony for a quick breath of fresh air during the Warwick Ball, she was accompanied by Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

Her mother would have been furious. She wanted Bette to charm the Prince - not the Viscount. She wanted her daughter to marry a title higher, not a title lower.

You had just set down two tea cups of herbal tea at their table when one of the young newsie boys stopped by the Fancy Teapot to drop off the new Society Paper.

“Hey, Sam,” you greeted the ten year old boy. He often was the one who sauntered in here to deliver the paper and he did it eagerly, knowing fully well that you were going to give him some free wrapped biscuits, like always.

“Y/N!” He greeted with a boyish grin. “What’s on the menu today? I hope it's something drowned in sugar!” He said excitedly.

You laughed and grabbed the box of warm treacle tarts from under the front counter. “It’s not drowned in sugar, but I think you’ll still enjoy them,” you told him.

He grinned widely. “You’re a real magician, Miss Y/L/N!”

You smiled warmly as the little boy went off and you were so busy handing over his desserts that you didn’t even notice, Dorothea, your sister-in-law, completely captivated by the latest Lady Whistledown’s writings.

“Bloody Hell,” she muttered, leaning her back against the counter and reading the paper. A mama and her daughter were standing by the counter, awaiting some assistance and looking very peevish. You sighed at how unobservant Dorothea was.

You took care of the customers and then turned to Dorothea, who looked as if she had acquired the most scandalous news.

“Y/N! Have you read this yet? It’s so scandalous!”

“No,” you replied, though you were a bit curious. “Who is it about?”

“The Viscount.”

“Hard pass,” you replied.

Dorothea rolled her eyes. “You are impossible. It’s not just about him but about the women he’s apparently leading on. And,” she took a moment to look around the tea shop and then in a hushed tone continued, “two of them are in here. Right now. Unaware of all of it!”

Well, surely just a peak at the new Society Paper wouldn’t do any harm. You grabbed the paper and took a look:

At the Warwick ball Thursday evening, Viscount Bridgerton was seen dancing with not one eligible young lady, but two. Now, I assume you dear readers know quite the reputation of our charming Viscount, as this behavior isn’t quite unusual. If you are familiar with the season’s doings, dancing with eligible suitors is normal.

Except Lord Anthony Bridgerton was seen with Miss Bette DuPont awfully close on the brink of the balcony and also seen later that evening with a certain opera singer, Siena Rosso, nuzzling her neck in a dark corner of the opera house.

How will the ladies take this embarrassment? Well, this author predicts that Miss Bette DuPont will turn a rather shade red and Miss Adelia Byron’s eyes will flash with a colour quite similar. Miss Siena Rosso will probably be locked up in a bedroom with the Viscount to even notice.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS,16 APRIL 1814

Oh, brother, you thought. This better not cause anything stupid in here -

“HOW DARE YOU!!!!”

You and Dorothea looked up in bewilderment at the sudden outburst. And there it was. Lady Adelia Byron, looking absolutely furious, clutching the society paper, and standing over Lady Bette DuPont who was sitting at her table, looking between a mix of surprise and confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” Bette said to her appalled.

“You!” Adelia yelled. “You are involved with my suitor! How dare you?! You - you - harlot!”

Bette’s jaw dropped but it was her mother who spoke. “My, I never! That is quite unladylike behavior, young lady. My Elizabeth is not some harlot, clearly you cannot read because you have been thoroughly mistaken.”

Adelia rolled her stormy eyes and handed over the paper. Bette hastily read it before gasping, throwing a pretty gloved hand over her mouth.

“This cannot be true. My Lord would never do such things.” Bette told her.

“My Lord?” Adelia mocked. “He’s not your anything. I am going to marry him. So this little rendezvous is finished.”

Bette raised a brow. “I don’t think so,” she simply replied and took a sip of her tea.

Adelia looked as if she was going to chuck that steaming tea pot at the young lady’s head, so you had no choice - you had to get involved.

“Ladies, please, there is no need to act in such a manner,” you told them. They both looked in your direction, looking at you as if you were just a nobody. As if they were thinking, who the hell are you and who makes you think you have any say in this?

You cleared your throat. “He’s just a man,” you tried to explain.

Adelia snorted. “Idiot,” she said under her breath.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You know, instead of getting mad at each other for something neither of you two were unaware of, you should be mad at him. Instead you are fighting over the tosser. Now that is an idiot.”

Both girls’ jaws dropped at what you said. But both didn’t say anything in retaliation. Instead, Adelia lifted her head high and walked away with what dignity she possessed and Bette went back to her tea, ignoring her mother’s angry stares.

Dorothea was nearly bursting in astonishment and the tea shop, which went quiet during the whole argument, went back to the bustling noise it always had.

All went back to normal. Until later that evening.

While you were cleaning up and closing down The Fancy Teapot for the day, you found a folded napkin at the same table that Adelia Byron sat with Cressida Cowper. Inside was a perfectly scrawled note addressed to you.

Not many people can inspire me, but you, Miss Bakery girl, did. Visit my estate as soon as you can manage. We have a lot to discuss.

X Miss Adelia Byron

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #Anthony bridgerton headcanon #mine #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #bridgerton fanfic

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thatyamiguy-blog · 2 years ago

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School Days (Kingdom Hearts)

As the holder and master of the key blade, Sora was used to jumping from world to world, game to game, all in the pursuit of taking down all of the heartless. He was also used to morphing to fit in better with each world or game he came into, having been a lion cub and a mermaid among other things, but as he came into the latest game world he was in for something he'd never experience before and likely never would again. for starters, he seemed to be in some sort of boarding school of sorts, long hallways with lockers and tons of classrooms . not too weird on it's know but there was a mixture of underlining smells that was giving a mixed message under the pine scented cleaner they used on the floors. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd say I'm getting whiffs of baby powder, urine and dookie..' Sora thought, as he looked around, taking in the light yellow walls and the blue and white checked floors. the lockers were a steel blue and as he walked down the hall, his shoes made a echo. 'Yeahhh..this isn't creepy at all.. Should of waited for Rikku and Kari to be ready to come with me..' Sora gulped, then shook his head. 'No! I wanted to prove I can do these missions by myself! and I will!' Pumping a fist and feeling all amped up, Sora screamed and almost hit the roof as he jumped when a hand was placed on his shoulder. "And WHAT are you doing out of class young man? And where is your uniform?" came a scolding robotic voice. Turning around, Sora was face to face with a silver robot, moving around on one wheel and with long almost noodle arms that ended with trademark micky gloves (and the hands were set on what would of passed as the robots 'hips') It had a saucer type dome for a head with a antenna sticking out of the top, and a dark red glass line that ran though the middle of it's head, which light up as it spoke. "well? I asked you a question young man! You know you're suppose to be in one of the classrooms and learning!" It said, one of it's hands shaking a finger at Sora. "Oh Um.. I'm sorry. I just got here.. and I didn't see anyone." Sora said, deciding to humor the robot for the moment. "OH! a new student! Sorry! your not in the files.." The robot said, twitching and little bolts of blue lighting dancing around it's head. "I'll help you get into your uniform and then it's right to your first class little guy! Just remember, correct answers are rewarded, and wrong ones are punished!" A sense of doom formed in the pit of Sora's tummy (or maybe it was his massive lunch) and he went to move away from the robot but it had a iron gripe on his wrist and was dragging him away. Not willing to see where this was going Sora took out the Key blade but whether it was because of his balance being off, or having to use his offhand, then swing he took towards the robot was blocked and the key blade was snatched away from Sora. "Bad boy! no weapons in school!" the robot scolded, tossing the Key blade into the air and then it vanished. "If you weren't already late for class.." it said, wagging a finger at Sora and the the tiny hero gulped. "S-Sorry! I was.. just.. playing?" He more asked then said. "..This is your ONE warning." the robot responded and went back to leading Sora to get dressed.

10 minutes and a lots of blushing later, and Sora was GLAD that Rikku and Kari weren't here. The robot/teacher/whatever had plugged itself into a wall console of the changing room and had taken control of at least 13 arms that came from the ceiling, the walls, even the floor to get Sora dressed, insisting that this would be faster then letting Sora get dressed himself. He had been striped naked (and scolded for the state of his boxers, all the pee stains and skid marks) then had been tugged into a pair of white with a blue trim pair of brief's, though they felt thicker then most. Placed on what looked a WHOLE lot like a changing table (though Sora refused to humor THAT train of thought) a pair of almost knee high white socks had been tugged onto his feet, then he was lifted up as a pair of dark blue dress shorts were tugged up over his undies. Sat on his butt after that and squirming as he was totally noticing a semi bulk under his butt, Sora had his arms raised up and a short sleeved white dress shirt was tucked down on him, smoothed out and tugged into his shorts then followed by a off white V cut vest that was tugged over, have the same dark blue as the shorts trim around the neck and around the waist. as a final touch a dark blue bowtie (clip on) was added and then Sora was allowed to slide off the table, squirming and blushing as he looked at himself in a mirror. "There, isn't that better and nicer then your silly old outfit?" the robot asked, unplugging itself and coming over, patting Sora's back. Sora went to answer but the big lunch from before and the pat instead had him let out a belch, though he covered his mouth and offered a quick 'excuse me' "..At least you have manners. Let's go." the robot said, leading the way.

Getting to the classroom, Sora raised a eyebrow as instead of desks, there was a series of tubes for the students to stand in, a console for them to apparently input answers into and a view screen above that. "..So no papers and pens?" Sora asked. "Not so much no. your seat is right here." The robot said, leading Sora to the middle most tube. "Well since I'm the only one here couldn't I sit an-" he started to ask, only to get a light slap on his rump. "I mean.. Yay my own spot!" "That's the spirt." the robot said, getting the tube open for Sora and helping him get in, a flat panel coming out for the boy to sit on at least, though there was a soft crinkle as Sora sat down. "..what kinda brief's are these?" he asked, even as the tube shut. "Their training pants, made for small accidents since we use a special carrot and stick approach to our studies." The robot said, ignoring the squeaks and protests that started to come out of Sora's mouth. "Answer the questions correctly to move up the grades and graduate, you need only get to 6th grade.. but too many wrong answers will get you tickled. And if you make your training pants leak, you'll be downgraded to nappies." "..What the effing eff kinda bull dooky is THAT!?!" Sora cried out, carful to avoid full on swears as he assumed any game programed like this would be prone to washing out potty mouths. It turned out that he was right in that regard, potty mouths DO get washed out, but it also turned out that the school had a wider range of what it considered swears, a lesson that Sora would quickly.

Huffing and with soap stains down his chin and bubbles in the corners of his mouth, Sora resolved to just rush though the school's dementated programing. He was clever enough and figured baring a mistake here and there, he should be able to whiz though all the grades in about a hour and a half, maybe two since spelling could be kinda tricky. As the program started up, Sora's confidence vanished as what was clearly suppose to be a math question, appeared in a jumble on the screen. "uhhh excuse me, I think there's a mistake.. I can't read this." Sora said, pointing to the screen, positive that the robot would see what was going on and just move him to a working tube. "...you really can't make that out?" The robot asked, a condescending tone in it's voice. "Maybe your not ready for the big kid classes at all and I should just switch you to the daycare program now." "..No! ahahaha nope! I was uh.. joking! it was a joke! no need for that!" Sora said quickly, assuming that that would of meant going RIGHT into diapers. "I'll just get back to work right now!" he said, gulping and looking back at the screen, the robot watching him even closer now. 'Ok Sora think.. it's a Kindergarten level question, it can't be THAT hard.. it's likely a number between one and nine... and if it's a addition question it's gotta be more then one so you have a one in eight chance of getting it right!' he thought and then entered a answer of five,.. and the screen flashed red and a red X appeared in the corner of the screen. 'Well fart nuggets..' "would you like to just give up now and avoid the tickling?" The robot asked. "No! I can do this!" Sora huffed, and as the next question came onto the screen he mentally added 'I hope.'

Two more strikes later and as Sora was being forced up by robot arms and his sides tickled with mercy, he had to admit that his plan of just trying to pick at random wasn't working. well, the small part of his brain that was able to have reasonable thoughts was, the rest of it was spilt between laughing like a Hyena and trying not to wet his training pants. Despite his best efforts, and the tickling only lasting for 30 seconds (thought from Sora's POV it felt more like 3 hours) the young hero was soaking his training pants like a champ and getting them so soggy that there was a good chance he was going to leak if he sat back down. "oh my, somebody is a super piddle pants.. would you care to just give in NOW before you risk or a leak? Or are you a glutton for punishment and wanna risk the spanking that comes with making your training pants leak and ruining your nice new uniform?" The robot asked. "I..I went pee pee in my undies!" Sora babbled, still in the after shocks of the brutal tickling and having been made to wet himself. (and of course being subject to a tasteless odorless gas in the chamber that was suppose to help students learn fast but much like the glitching screens, had gone bad and was in fact making Sora semi lose IQ points in his ditzy state.) "Indeed you did, but that doesn't answer my question." the robot said, not linking how this would be the 4th boy to come though the program to end up so derp and the fact the program was so rarely used. "Uh.. I.. Wanna have a ham sandwich?" Sora asked, his index finger on his bottom lip and looking confused. "..No that's not the question either. I'm gonna go ahead and called it now." the robot said, making the semi chair go back into the tube and opening the tube up. "Welll excusssseeee me!' Sora babbled, semi waddling now from how big and heavy his training pants had gotten, stepping out of the tube with a air of pride that was very much NOT deserved, only to slip as he came out and land not only on his butt, making the training pants burst and leak, but hitting his head on the back of the tube which had closed behind him. "Duhhh DO YOU KNOW THE MUFFIN MAN!?! HE STOLE MY UNDERWEARRRR~" Sora babbled and sang out, his face going all derp. "...I'm just gonna save time and start putting these boys in the baby program to start with." the robot sighed and scooped Sora up.

it had taken 2 weeks of constant searching, but finally Rikku had tracked down where Sora had gone too after his little temper tantrum about being able to handle things on his own. Never mind the fact the little dork almost always fought with at least two other people by his side. Making his way though the school and having his weapon ready, Rikku semi knew where he was, it was a older learning program that hadn't been all that popular even back in it's heyday, and because of that had been left to degrade and rot. "Which means if Sora's still here, he's gotten himself into SOME kind of trouble." Rikku sighed. "excuse me, what are you doing out in the halls?" came a robotic voice. Without waiting to let whatever it was sneaking up behind him attack, Rikku slashed as he turned around, sending the robot flying backwards and Into a wall. "WHERE'S SORA!?!" he demanded, pointing his key blade at the robot, who being the last one functioning and having a self peveration unit, knew when to fold them. "I'll take you to him, he's in the pre K class making art!" the robot cried out. "..why am I NOT surprised?"

On the trip to the Pre K room, Rikku had pictured what to expect, coming up with the idea Sora would likely be in short-all's and light up sneakers, or something equally childish. However what he saw instead was beyond anything he could of guessed, though he be lying if he said it wasn't adorable, cute and totally worked for Sora. The former hero was wearing nothing but a bulky white diaper that had a nursery print on it, though the print on the front of the diaper around the crotch area had faded for reasons that Rikku didn't have to guess. there was also smears of paint on the sides of the diaper where Sora had clearly just been wiping his hands instead of making use of the rags and water beside him. He had also been drawing on himself, mostly his tummy which was why Rikku assumed he wasn't at least wearing a top, though making out anything that the pampered ex hero had drawn was hard save for a sun he had done around his belly button. Sora was semi babbling away, a mile a minute as he draw on a piece of paper, though it was lost in translation because of the big red pacifier in his mouth that bobbed back and forth as he worked away on.. whatever it was he was making. Rikku when to speak up, to get's Sora's attention but right at that moment the big baby stopped working and popped a squat, closing his eyes and grunting around his paci as a series of farts where heard and then the back of the diapers started to droop as a relived look came over Sora's face, clearly happy to be messing his diapers. "would you like me to prepare him for transport?" the robot asked meekly. "..Uhh.. I'm gonna let him finish crapping himself, then let you change him before taking him home." Rikku said, sweat dropping and holding his nose as the smell hit him. "anddd I'ma get you to pack diapers for him." there was a massive fart and the back of soar's diapers started to droop and sag even more, the stink getting worse. "..Lots and LOTS of diapers." Rikku said.

The end?

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supernatural-jackles · 5 years ago

Text

Owe You One - Part 4

Title: Owe You One - Jefferson’s Starship

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 7,067

Warnings: Minor Angst, Sexual Harassment, Self-Loathing, Anxiety, Fluff, Smut, Friends with Benefits

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Owe You One - Masterlist

Squares Filled: Bartender!AU ( @spndeanbingo) FWB Relationship ( @spnfluffbingo)

A/N: Part 4!! I hope y’all enjoy this part!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! Happy reading!!

You stirred away at the pot you had on the stove, getting dinner ready for yourself. It was Friday night, and you had just gotten home from work about half an hour ago. You changed into your comfortable pyjamas before deciding to cook yourself a nice dinner. You were going to curl up on the couch for a little while and maybe turn in early. You had nothing extensive planned. Nothing but your PVR and previous episodes of The Walking Dead to catch up on.

You reached for a bowl in the cupboard next to you, placing it on the counter before pouring your pasta into it. You heard three loud knocks at your door, pulling you from your meal for a moment. You placed it back down on the stove before heading over to the door, opening it up. You rolled your eyes with a smile when you found Dean standing there with a smile playing on his lips. You walked away from the door, letting him walk in without protest.

“You want something to eat? I made enough pasta for two,” you pointed out. “Four cheese.”

“Oh fuck yes,” he nodded, taking a seat at your counter. You reached in the cupboard, grabbing another bowl before pouring some into it. You took two forks out of the drawer, bringing Dean’s bowl over first before your own. You hopped on the chair next to him, looking forward to tasting your meal.

“Thank you for this,” he smiled, taking a forkful.

“You’re welcome,” you beamed, taking your own bite.

“So what are you up to tonight?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Stuff,” you answered smuggly. “What do you want?”

“How do you know I want something?” he claimed, his voice went up half an octave.

“Because you didn’t call or text before coming over tonight. You usually do if you just want to hang out for the night. So I’ll ask again, what do you want, Winchester?” you chuckled.

“Okay, I have a huge favour to ask and seen as how you’re wearing your cute comfy pyjamas, I know you aren’t doing anything tonight. I also know for a damn fact that you would never let any guy see you in those so you’re not getting laid tonight.”

“Thank you! I get the point,” you scoffed playfully, taking another bite.

“I need help at the bar tonight. Sammy’s gonna be late and all I’ve got is Benny. You’re the only one that I can trust,” he stated. “I’ll pay you, of course. And whatever tips you make are yours.”

“So you want me to bartend at Jefferson’s Starship tonight and I get paid?” you chuckled. “Actual money?”

“What, you think I’m going to pay you in sex again?” he laughed, shaking his head. “‘Cause I can if you want me to. A little touchy touchy-”

“Shut up, Dean,” you giggled, shoving him a little. “How late do I have to stay?”

“Just until Sam gets in,” he assured you. “Not all night.”

“Alright, let me eat. Then I’ll go get changed. You’re lucky I like you,” you side-eyed him.

“I owe you big time,” he breathed out in relief. “Like huge, sweetheart.”

“I’ll take you up on it at some point,” you winked. “Really though, you don’t owe me anything. Remember, you helped me out of a very low point. That isn’t easy.”

“I still owe you a little. You literally never go out to the bar,” he pointed out with a sad smile.

“You are more than right. Remember that,” you winked. “How was your day anyways?”

“Eh, it was okay. Pretty busy as usual. I kept to myself at my station. My dad worked on what he needed to do. I fixed up a couple of cars and got all my paperwork done so I don’t have to do any this weekend. Fresh start Monday morning,” he explained to you. “How was your day?”

“It was okay. Boring as hell, but that’s my job for you,” you shrugged.

“So you were going to use this time to unwind, huh?” he said sheepishly. You could see the guilt he felt sores across his features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, De. I should probably try to get out more anyways. Sitting at home alone isn’t going to do me any good,” you breathed out.

“I mean, you’re not entirely wrong. Sometimes alone time is what you need. But in this case, you’re coming out. Not to mention, I own the bar,” he smirked.

“Yeah yeah,” you tried not to smile.

You managed to eat your pasta in record time. You figured you’d do the dishes in the morning after your breakfast. You knew Dean had to be there soon, and you didn’t want to leave him or Benny screwed. This was a job for you and you were going to work with professionalism.

You grabbed something comfortable and presentable to wear to the bar. A pair of dark skinny jeans with a rip in the knee. You pulled on one of your white shirts and threw one of your red flannels over it to keep with the Winchester look. After that, you grabbed your comfortable boots and your bag, heading out the door with Dean by your side.

Dean opened up your door for you and you slipped inside. There was a part of you that wondered if this was a good idea. After all, he and his brother owned this bar; his family. Last you knew, his family hated you. All but Dean. You didn’t want Sam to walk in and kick you out or worse, yell at you in front of everyone. You didn’t want to ruin their business. This was important to both of them because they started it together. You weren’t going to be the one to come between them. You were simply going to help your friend out and go on your way home. If Dean wanted to join you later, that was fine. But you weren’t supposed to mix business with pleasure.

Dean parked in his designated spot out the back of the bar. There was a spot for him and a spot for Sam. No one else had access to park back here. You kicked your door open, circling around the car to the front. Dean motioned for you to follow him to the doors around the front of the building.

The second you walked into the empty bar, you smiled to yourself. This bar wasn’t like any of the bars you had been in and you had been in many of them during your college days. They wanted their place to feel like home in some sense. There was a jukebox in the corner that played only classic rock. Lots of room for people to dance. Enough tables for people to sit. Booths for those who had bigger groups. Couches and chairs set up around the tv. By the actual bar, he had stools set up all around and a tv up on the wall so people could watch from there. He had all his liquor on display and coasters stacked, ready to go. All his glassware was branded with the bar's name, and a cowboy hat. This place was something to be really proud of, that was for certain.

“Well well, look who it is,” Benny smiled. “I’ll be damned if it isn’t miss Y/N walking in for the first time in forever.”

“Hi Benny,” you grinned

“Hiya darlin,” he beamed. “What can I get for you tonight?”

“I’m working tonight,” you told him, circling around the back of the bar. “Boss needed and extra set of hands.”

“If you need help with anything, Y/N, just let one of us know. I know you know what you’re doing,” Dean nodded.

“You’re damn right I do,” you said confidently. You grabbed an apron from the shelf beneath the cash register. You had a notepad, a pen and a cloth in there, ready to get to work. It had been a long time since you had stepped foot behind a bar, but you were sure you were going to snap right back into it pretty quickly. “Let’s do this.”

It wasn’t long before people flooded into the bar. Some people just getting off work, having a drink to wind down. Others coming in in groups. The three of you worked in a perfect sync with one another. Pouring and mixing drinks the fastest you could get them to the customers in a timely manner. In record time, you had about fifty dollars in tips. The night was just getting started.

You glanced around the room as soon as the first rush died out. Everyone was distracted in some way. A group of guys watching a game on the couch by the tv. A few women sitting at a table, gossiping about their week and their husbands. Then there was a few loners sitting at the bar, sipping away at a beer or a glass of whiskey. Trying to unwind after the week. You wiped down the counter top.

“Hey there,” a man greeted you, taking a seat at the counter right in front of you. His smile was wide as he placed his hands on the countertop.

“What can I get for you?” you asked, taking a deep breath as you tucked your cloth back in your apron.

“Your phone number for starters,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows twice. You wanted to scoff but you were working. You weren’t about to ruin Dean’s business because some guy decided to hit on you. Not to mention, he wasn’t that cute. A man like him would be just like the rest of them. They’d get off and you’d be left finishing yourself off in the shower. You weren’t doing that again.

“Your drink order, sir?” you corrected him, trying to keep your tone in check.

“Whiskey neat,” he stated. “And that phone number.”

“Whiskey it is,” you declared, putting the glass down on the napkin in front of him. You reached for the bottle of whiskey behind you, knowing full well he was staring at your ass. He was treating you like you were easy and that wasn’t okay with you. You weren’t doing that anymore. No more shitty guys.

“Don’t play hard to get, baby,” he frowned. “I saw you eyeing me the second I walked in here tonight.”

“Enjoy your drink,” you said, your voice void of all emotions. You walked away from him, taking your cloth once more before heading out to the customers area to begin cleaning up empty glasses and bottles. Dean and Benny were still working behind the counter, serving people. It had slowed down a little more. They still had the odd person come up to them.

You wiped down every table, gathering all the empties. You snapped back into bartender mode pretty quickly. It was something you had done for years during your college years. Dean ran a really nice bar. Everything was really clean, but you also had a feeling that his brother had something to do with it. You took note of what needed replenishing to bring it out during your next trip. You gathered up what you could, placing it on the bar to move to the back when you had the chance to. You wiped down your last table before heading to the back. You could feel the creepy guy’s eyes on you and that told you to move quicker.

“Baby c’mere,” he cooed, standing up. Your heart began to pound in your chest. You needed to move quickly.

“Not interested,” you stated clearly, backing away from him. He was a big guy now that you saw him compared to you. He was tall and had a strong build. His hand made its way down to your ass, tugging you into him against your will. You tried your hardest to shove him off of you, but he barely budged. “Get off of me!”

“Hey! Hey!” Dean shouted, making his way around the bar. “Hands off of her. Now!”

“We were just getting to know each other, right baby?” He smirked, tugging you in once more. Hearing him say those words only angered you more.

You pushed him once more, successfully getting him off of you, but not getting as far as you would have liked. “Get the fuck off of me.”

Dean stepped between you and the douchebag, getting in his face a little more. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched that he was pissed. When Dean was pissed, no one wanted to be near him.

“House rules. Respecting others, especially women is the second on that list. Sexual harassment is unacceptable. Get the fuck out of my bar,” he warned him, “I’m not going to ask you again.”

“Whatever, she’s a cheap piece of ass anyways,” he scoffed, throwing down a bill on the counter before grabbing his jacket, heading to the door.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked as he turned to face you. His hand came up to the side of your head.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“You want a drink,” he offered you, smiling softly.

“No thank you. I’m good,” you smiled before heading around the back of the bar to finish cleaning up. You also knew you’d be safer behind the bar and that was where you wanted to be.

“You sure, darlin’?” Benny raised his eyebrow. “I can make you a mean drink.”

“I’m sure. I don’t drink,” you stated, placing the empty bottles in the bin.

“Since when?” Dean furrowed his brows. “We got drunk together a few months back.”

“Since whenever,” you shrugged.

“I feel like there is more behind this then you’re leading on,” Benny side-eyed you with a bit of concern.

“There is, but we’re dropping this now, okay?” you smiled, heading over to the counter to serve the next customer.

As you handed the customer their drink, Sam walked into the bar. His hair was a bit of a mess and he looked to be in a bit of a rush. You stiffened a little. After all, Sam had to know all about you now. His mom had to have said something to him. He had always been nice to you, but that was back then. There was a whole other side to you and your family now. Sure, Sam was nice, but he wasn’t going to be happy you were here if he knew anything.

“Hey,” Dean greeted his brother. “How’d it go?”

“Good,” he smiled to himself. “Place is picked out and booked. We officially have a date.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense, Sammy. Wedding date now,” Dean chuckled, wiping down a glass.

“September 15th,” he grinned widely, reaching his hand up to the back of his head.

“I’ll save the date,” he nodded with a big smile. “Congratulations, little brother!”

“Thanks, De,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

You stood behind the bar awkwardly, not knowing if you should say something, or go do something else. You didn’t want to be in the way of him. This was his business too. You pulled your cloth back out, and decided to head back out to the floor to wipe down the tables again.

“Dean, what is she doing here?” you heard Sam say.

“She’s helping us out because I asked her to,” Dean stated.

“Dean, you know-”

“Sam-”

“No Dean, if mom or dad was to walk in right now, you’d be in so much shit,” he stated. That was your queue. You weren’t welcomed and you weren’t going to ruin a family business. You had no idea why you even agreed to in the first place. Mary told you that you were never going to be good enough for her family. Why did you think you’d be good enough to work at her son’s bar?

“Sorry,” you breathed out, as you untied your apron. “I’m- I’m gonna go, Dean. I don’t want to ruin your business or your relationship with your family. You don’t have to pay me for tonight.”

“Y/N, wait,” Dean called out as you began to walk away.

“Dean, it’s cool,” you nodded, assuring him it was.

“No, it’s not cool, Y/N. I invited you here tonight,” Dean declared, walking over to you. “My mom and dad don’t own this bar. Sammy and I do. I’ll tell you again. I don’t care who your mom is or was to my parents. I care about you and who you are to me. If Sammy has a problem with it, then he can stow it for tonight. You are welcome in this bar.” His hands made their way to your arms, holding you in place.

“Dean, I’m not worth the trouble, okay?” you smiled weakly, pulling the few bills out of your pocket, handing them to him. “This is yours.”

“No, they are yours. You earned them tonight. All tips are yours,” he stated.

“Y/N, please stay,” Sam called out.

“Please, sweetheart,” Dean pleaded, holding his hand out for you to take. “You’re off the clock. Just hang out with us for a little while. You said you needed to get out more.”

“You want a drink Y/N?” Sam offered, grabbing a clean glass from beneath the counter.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Water would be great.”

“W-water?” Sam furrowed his brows.

“She doesn’t drink,” Benny added in.

“Ah, okay,” Sam nodded.

You walked around the bar, taking a seat on the stool behind the bar. Sam placed a glass of water with a few ice cubes on the counter in front of you, giving you a soft smile. You knew he was trying to keep a smile on his face to keep you around for the night. It was forced at best.

“So, no guy in your life right now, Y/N?” Benny questioned you. “You usually have someone-”

“Nope, I don’t. Not right now,” you smiled at him, bringing your water up to your lips. Great, even Benny knew you got around, you thought to yourself.

“You want someone? ‘Cause you know, I’m single and you’re-”

“Benny, knock it off,” Dean warned him. “She doesn’t need another guy hitting on her tonight. House rules.”

“What? ‘M I not good enough for you,” he teased playfully before serving the next customer.

“You’re not my type,” you giggled. “My track record states that I only go for dicks. You’re a nice guy.”

“So Y/N, I gotta ask,” Sam started, taking another stool, sitting close by. “I know you grew up with your mom-”

“Sam,” Dean called out, his voice laced with a bit of anger.

“It’s okay Dean,” you assured him.

“Was it just you and your mom or was your dad ever around?” he questioned. You knew he was curious, and he didn’t seem to want to cause any harm to you. It was a simple question. Nothing you hadn’t been asked a hundred times before.

“No. It was just me and my mom. I never knew my dad, in fact, I’ve never met him or know his name for that matter. My mom always told me he didn’t want anything to do with me and that was why he wasn’t around. He didn’t want me and that’s why it was the two of us. I have no idea who my dad is, or if he’s even alive at this point. I never knew anything about him,” you shared with him.

“Were you ever curious?” Dean added in, stepping closer to you and Sam.

“Yeah, of course I was. I grew up without a dad. The kids at school were terrible to me because I didn’t have one,” you began. “I mean, look at me now. I’m a mess ninety five percent of the time. I just wish my mom would’ve been straight with me. But at the same time, my mom slept around a lot. She had a new boyfriend every month. I doubt she even knew who my dad was.”

“Do you think she was hiding it from you?” Sam brought up.

“In some ways, yeah. I asked her when I was eighteen, before I left for college and she said there was no point. My dad was probably dead.”

“If you ever wanted to find out more, Y/N, I’m sure I could do a little digging for you,” Sam offered you. It was a kind gesture but it wasn’t worth it.

“I’m not worth that kind of trouble, Sam. I don’t want to cause any more issues with your family than I already have.”

“Your mom’s issues weren’t your fault, sweetheart,” Dean reminded you.

“Dean’s right, Y/N. What your mom did in the past has nothing to do with you. It bugs the hell out of my mom because you look like her. It’s still wrong that she treated you the way she did. You’re nothing like your mom,” Sam said with a sad smile. It was really nice to hear those words coming from Sam. Especially now that you were here. You didn’t want him to hate you like his family did.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’m giving you the okay to take a look. It can’t hurt to find out my family history. And I’m curious as to what my mom hid from me all my life. But I don’t want to make any contact if we find out who it is.” In reality, it was probably good to find out in case you had a family history of cancer or something like that. It was too late now to ever have a father daughter relationship like you dreamed about when you were ten.

“Deal. You are always welcome to change your mind later on, okay?”

“Thank you,” you smiled softly at him. “Means a lot to me that you want to do this.”

“Well well, look who decided to show up for work,” Dean greeted the two people as they walked in.

“I thought you were short tonight, De?” you furrowed your brows.

“Chuck and Cas work later so we can go home at a decent hour,” he told you. Both of them walked behind the bar, settling their stuff underneath the cash.

“Hey,” a man with curly-ish hair greeted you. “I’m Chuck.”

“Y/N,” you waved at him.

“So uh, how you doin’?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Chuck,” Dean warned him, shaking his head.

“Oh shit, sorry. Is she your-”

“No she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend,” he stated, earning a chuckle from both you and Sam. Dean was very protective over you, and you actually kind of liked that he was.

“Oh god, that’s worse,” he breathed out sheepishly. “It was very nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“You ready to head out, Y/N?” Dean offered with a smile.

“God, yes please!” you beamed, hopping off your stool.

“I’ll grab your number from Dean,” Sam nodded, giving you a wink. Dean grabbed his jacket as you circled around the bar for the last time. You couldn’t wait to go home and change into your pyjamas. You couldn’t wait to be in the privacy of your apartment so you could finally unwind for the night.

Dean followed behind you as you lead the way to the impala. It was just after eleven when you looked at the clock in the impala as Dean started her up. It was a long night, and some parts of it sucked, but for the most part, you were glad you did it with Dean there. His friends were also nice people to be around so that certainly helped.

“You did good tonight,” he smiled at you as he turned out of the parking lot.

“What can I say, I’m an ex bartender,” you chuckled. “Thanks for asking me to come out tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” he nodded.

“If you’re up for it, you wanna hang out at my place for a bit?” you asked him. “Only if you want to.”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” he agreed.

It was almost eleven thirty by the time you arrived at your front door with the keys in your hand. Dean stood right behind you, keeping a close distance. You figured after that creepy guy at the bar tonight, he was keeping you close in case something was to happen. You really did enjoy how protective he was of you. He had been ever since that day the two of you made up. It was nice to have someone want to keep you safe from harms way.

You threw your keys on the counter as soon as you walked in. Dean locked the door behind him and kicked off his shoes on the front mat. You leaped onto the couch, flopping down on your back, earning a laugh from your best friend.

“Long night, huh?” he said as he sat down next to you.

“Very! I love being hit on by creepy guys. It’s my favourite,” you joked, moving up to a sitting position to give him more room on the couch. Your couch was big enough for two people to sleep on, but Dean just had to sit close to you.

“You used to enjoy guys like that,” he teased you.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed them. I prefer guys with a little more respect. Not guys that grope my ass in a crowded bar while I’m working,” you breathed out. “I don’t know. Lately I haven’t been interested.”

“In what?” he cocked his head to the side, looking over at you.

“Dating. Men in general,” you shrugged, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Too much to focus on and I’m a mess most days.”

“Not even sex for you?” he questioned.

“Eh,” you smirked. “I’ve got my own ways of handling things in that department. It’s not like any of the guys I slept with before knew what they were doing. I’m just not wasting my time.”

“Good,” he grinned. “You deserve better than that.”

“What about you, Winchester? You’re nearly as bad as I am for taking random people home,” you pointed out.

“Not as of recently,” he confessed, looking down at his hands. “Part of it is how busy I’ve been. No one has really caught my eye. Everyone these days are dating, and settling down. After Cassie, I don’t really want to date right now. Especially since she left things open for when she gets back.”

“I don’t blame you,” you nodded. “Would you get back together with her if she were to show up at your door right now?”

“Deep question there, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since we broke up. Not even an email. If she were to knock on my door, I don’t think I could just settle back in like nothing happened.”

“That’s understandable,” you nodded. “At least you’ve moved on a little. We slept together.”

“You’re the last person I slept with,” he admitted.

“You’re my last too,” you nodded. “We’re doing awesome. Although, I certainly can’t complain. You were damn good. You kept up your end of the bargain beautifully.”

“Well, technically I owe you one for tonight,” he joked with a smirk. “I know how to drive a good bargain.”

“I’m down if you are,” you wiggled your eyebrows with a soft smile.

“Actually?” he cocked his eyebrow.

“What’s the harm?” you shrugged. “Not like we haven’t before.”

“I’m definitely in if you are,” he nodded. “No pressure at all. Only if you want to.”

“You’re too nice to me, you know that?” you smiled at him as you moved over. You threw your leg over his legs, settling down over his lap. His hands instantly reached for your waist as his eyes went wide.

“I wouldn’t say nice,” he breathed out. “I just care ‘bout you is all.”

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate that you care,” you smiled. “I care ‘bout you too.”

“Alright, this is getting too chick flicky for my liking,” he stated, leaning forward. He captured your lips with his in a soft, heated kiss that had you instantly craving more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tugging yourself closer to him as your tongue slipped over his bottom lip.

His hands reached beneath your flannel, pushing the material over your shoulders in record time. You had a feeling this was going to happen fast. It was late after all, and you both had been working since nine this morning. It was going to be a quickie at best and that was more than okay with you. A quick fix to make you both feel good and that would be enough to put you to sleep right away.

“You’re sure about this?” Dean asked you, pulling away a little.

“Yes, more than sure,” you breathed out, pushing his flannel over his shoulders. “No foreplay this time.”

“Got it,” he nodded. “Just a quickie?”

“Quickie then bed,” you smile at him.

“Roger that,” he agreed, tugging the hem of your shirt up your body, throwing it to the floor. You did the exact same to his, tearing it off of him as quickly as you could. He bucked his hips up to yours, and you could feel the bulge of him already. The thought of having him once more sent heat pooling in your core.

You climbed off of his lap, toying with the button on your jeans before shoving them down your legs along with your panties. Dean unbuckled his belt, making quick work of removing his jeans and boxers, pushing them down his legs. His hard cock standing proud between his legs. Fuck, was he perfect.

“Condom?” you asked him.

“Wallet,” he nodded, reaching down to his jeans, pulling out the leather pouch. He opened it up, taking the foil packet from his wallet. You stepped forward, straddling him as he opened the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out. You watched as he took his cock in his hand, rolling the condom down over himself. You reached behind your back, removing the final article of clothing from your body to reveal yourself to him once more.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he smiled softly at you.

“Dean,” you grinned, shaking your head.

“You are,” he shrugged. “I like that I’m the one you went home with tonight after all the guys that hit on you.”

“Thank you,” you half smiled. “You’re sexy as hell.”

“Hell doesn’t sound all that sexy,” he teased you.

“Shut up, Winchester,” you giggled. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

“Please,” he chuckled.

“Then ask me nicely,” you played, wanting to test him just a little.

“Y/N, will you please let me put my dick inside you?” he let out a laugh, not able to keep a straight face through the entire sentence, making you laugh along with him.

“I can’t believe you actually asked,” you cackled.

“Shut up,” he shook his head, trying not to laugh more than he already had. “The things I do for you.”

“Hey, the way to a girl’s heart is through humor, Winchester,” you pointed out.

“Yeah yeah,” he scoffed. “Alright, I’m going to touch you now. Make sure you’re ready for me.”

“By all means,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His right hand came down between your legs, his middle finger brushing through your folds to see if you were ready enough for him. You knew you were more than ready to take him. The mere sight of him had you ready to go. The kissing certainly helped you get there too. He was a damn good kisser.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “You’re sure?”

“I am,” he agreed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You balanced yourself on his shoulders, moving up his body to get ready. You reached one of your hands down, taking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. Your eyes met with his as you positioned the tip in place. He nodded his head, not daring to break the eye contact you held. You let yourself sync down on him, slow and steady. His eyes fluttered shut as you surrounded him in your heat.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed out as he bottomed out inside you. You could feel him twitching a little as your walls grew accustomed to him. He finally opened his eyes, meeting yours as a smile played on his lips. He slipped his hands around your back, ready to help you move on him.

“You feel amazing, De,” you told him, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his.

You made yourself more comfortable before beginning to move on him. He repositioned himself beneath you, making it easier for you to ride him, and for him to meet you halfway. As you sank down on him, he thrusted upwards. His grip was tight on you, keeping you close to him. He felt amazing inside of you. Hell, almost better than he did the first time. From this angle, his cock brushed over all the sensitive spots, getting you there a little bit faster than you were expecting him to.

His lips trailed on your neck, making your fingers curl in his shoulders. Your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. You brought your hand up to his hair, carding through his soft locks as you continued to bounce on him.

“Shit Dean,” you cried out.

“Feels so good,” he muttered, pulling away from your neck. “So close.”

“Faster,” you urged him on.

His hands slipped down to your ass, pulling you closer to him. He shifted quickly, your back hitting the couch as he fit between your legs. He snapped his hips against yours, picking up the pace to get you both there. One of his hands reached between your bodies, toying with your clit to heighten your pleasure.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” you moaned. Your grip tightened around his shoulders, desperate to grab onto something to keep you grounded. You were panting profusely. You felt the tightness growing in your abdomen. You were so damn close.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Let me feel you.”

Your walls came crashing down around him as you let out a wanton moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you threw your head back, letting the pleasure course it’s way through your body. Your fingers curled into his back, trying to hold onto something to keep you from floating away. Your vision went white and your body began to shake just enough for you to notice.

“Atta girl,” he encouraged you as he bucked his hips into yours. You knew he was damn close to the edge. He just needed that final push.

“Feels so good, De,” you whispered, trailing your shaky hand up into his hair. “Come for me, Dean.”

“Shit-” he growled, picking up his pace just a little more. He gave three hard thrusts before his cock twitched. His seed filling the condom before he collapsed on top of you, letting out a breath.

Your hand carded through his hair, playing with his soft locks as you both came down from your highs. You turned your head, looking at the time on the clock above your tv. It was just after twelve fifteen. You knew you had to get up and get ready for bed.

“I just realized we did that with the curtains open,” you giggled, glancing over at the big open window.

“Well shit,” he let out a laugh. “I hope they enjoyed the show.”

“We should get up,” you told him. “Get ready for bed.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, shifting himself up. He reached down, grabbing the base of his cock to remove himself with care.

You were the first one off the couch, leaving your clothes on the floor. You headed into your bedroom, going straight to the bathroom. Dean wasn’t far behind you, throwing the used condom into the trash in your bathroom.

“Uh, you’re welcome to stay if you want to,” you offered him. “Or you can go, whichever you want to do.”

“Whichever you’re more comfortable with. I don’t want to overstep,” he stated, taking a step back.

“We literally just had sex,” you reminded him. “I don’t know what would even be considered overstepping at this point.”

“True,” he chuckled.

“Well, if you’d like to stay, there is an extra toothbrush in my drawer and boxers in the top drawer in my bedroom,” you told him with a soft smile. “I’m going to shower to get the smell of sex and alcohol off of me. If you want to do the same, you know where the towels are.”

“Alright,” he nodded, turning towards the shower. You watched as he turned the nozzle, setting it on hot. “You shower first and I’ll clean up out there.

Dean was out of the bathroom, giving you a bit of privacy. You shut the door a little, giving yourself the comfort of being alone to do what you needed to do. You went to the bathroom before slipping into the shower.

The water was the perfect temperature for you to clean yourself up. You were just going to have a quick shower to wash your body. You could wash your hair in the morning. You just wanted to feel clean. You had the feeling Dean was staying with you tonight, and you weren’t against it persay. You didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. You weren’t looking for a relationship. You hoped it was just sex for him. That you could handle with ease. You didn’t want to do the whole ‘feelings’ thing. Not with your best friend. Sleepovers were normal for friends. Two friends could have sex without it being weird. There was nothing wrong with casual sex.

You washed your body quickly. You could feel yourself getting more and more tired the more you stood under the stream. You just wanted to get out, brush your teeth and head to bed. Nothing more.

The water shut off and you stepped out onto the mat you had set out. You wrapped your towel around yourself, making sure it was tight. The mirror was all steamy, and you could barely see. Not that it was going to stop you from brushing your teeth.

“Dean, you’re good,” you called out, reaching for your toothbrush. The bathroom door opened, revealing Dean in his boxers and nothing else. He was quiet as he went about, gathering what he needed to shower. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes off of him while he moved around.

He hopped in the shower as soon as you finished brushing your teeth. The mirror was just starting to clear when you turned away, giving Dean the privacy he deserved. You noticed as soon as you were in your bedroom that Dean had thrown your clothes in the laundry hamper. His clothes were set on the chair in the corner of your room, folded nicely.

You grabbed the first pair of panties from your drawer, and an oversized shirt to wear to bed. You could feel yourself starting to overthink this. You didn’t want anything to change between you and Dean. You didn’t see him as anything other than your best friend. You didn’t want to date him. You didn’t want a boyfriend or a serious relationship for that matter. You didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

You got dressed quickly, throwing the comforter back, slipping beneath the sheets. You heard the water turn off, which meant it was only a matter of time before he was joining you in bed. You lay on your back, adjusting the covers over your chest.

Dean emerged from the bathroom in a pair of clean boxers, shutting the light out. He circled around the bed, following the same steps. He joined you in the bed, resting on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

“You tired?” he asked you.

“Now that the lights are out, not really,” you chuckled. “You?”

“No not really,” he let out a laugh. “That was fun.”

“It was. And I’m not usually for being on top,” you admitted with a half smile.

“Why this time?” he questioned, turning his head to look your direction.

“I don’t know. I guess I feel a little more comfortable around you. I’m not as nervous about some things, like the way I look for example,” you confessed.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a laugh. “Hell, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“What, like that?”

“That. And sex in general,” he shrugged. “I’ve got what is probably not a good idea. But you said that you’re not looking to date anyone. I’m not ready to date anyone. We’re best friends and speaking from previous experiences one and two, sex is great between us. You’re comfortable with me, and I’m comfortable with you. Why don’t we continue sleeping together? You know, get each other off, try some new things?”

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” you inquired, furrowing your brows.

“Yeah I guess so,” he breathed out.

“How is that going to work, Dean?” you turned to face him. “It literally never works. There are too many rules, and someone always gets hurt in the end.”

“Not if we don’t let it,” he reminded you.

“Fair point. If we’re going this, and that’s a big if, Dean. I don’t want stupid rules and shit, okay? Friends who have sex, try new things; whatever. Nothing about our friendship changes,” you declared.

“Done deal. I can agree to those terms,” he nodded.

“Good. I’m all for sex, but as soon as something goes sideways, of gets complicated, I’m out, okay?” you breathed out.

“More than okay,” he smiled at you. “Now, are you going to deny me after sex cuddling?”

“We had sex like half an hour ago,” you scoffed playfully.

“Friends are allowed to cuddle, you know,” he reminded you. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

“Fine,” you shook your head. “You’re big spoon though.”

“Turn around then,” he smirked.

You turned over, trying to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. Dean slipped his arm around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. You let yourself melt into him, feeling safe in his hold. You knew for a fact that he was going to keep the nightmares away tonight.

Maybe after sex cuddling wasn’t so bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 5 coming Tuesday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!

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tarithenurse · 4 years ago

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Impervious

Fandom: MCU / TFATWS Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader Content: Mentions of hate/harrasment, bad weather, sadness, awkwardness, fluff. A/N: This is my contribution to @princessmisery666 ‘s Daily Mix Challenge! She tossed me a song I’ve never heard before (Skin – by Sabrina Carpenter) and listening to the lyrics I had the image of a highschool prom dance scene where the main character is dancing with the partner while the jealous ass holes are staring daggers....but instead I ended up writing this – oops? Hope you enjoy! And thank you for a lovely challenge!

Impervious

I should delete my Twitter too. The day has only just begun but haters never seem to sleep, filling your online existence with a shit-ton of “negativity”.

It wasn’t as if you had planned it. It just happened!

Thinking back, you can’t help smiling at the memory of that morning a couple of years ago.

Way too early in November, cold and wet and absolutely not a day where you really wanted to be out in the horrendous morning rush and trying to weave in and out between people, with a cooling coffee in one hand, phone in the other, and an umbrella sandwiched dangerously by your shoulder and chin. Nope, the day was shitty and had just plummeted further as you hung up: you’d just had a contract cancelled. At least you wouldn’t be late.

Ready to give up your attempt at adulting (without the prospect of a new gig), you didn’t pay attention to your surroundings for a moment. Just a few seconds. But of course, that’s all it would take to ram straight into someone, crushing the paper cup between the two of you and jostling him to spill his own coffee.

On any other day, you’d probably have handled it more graciously. This day...not so much.

Scrambling for your phone (ugh, it had landed in the biggest puddle available and cracked), you rattled off frantic excuses while trying to hold back the tears. Then your umbrella got snagged by the wind and someone bumped into you, forcing you onto hands and knees and it was all...just...too much.

“Hey baby girl, don’t worry. Don’t cry,” his voice was warm and soothing just like his hands as they gripped yours, brushing off dirt gently with his sleeve, “don’t cry, ’s gonna be fine. See? No harm, no foul.”

There were scars on his hands – especially his knuckles had seen a lot of use, disrupting the gentleness of the dark skin with odd patterns – but they were steady and welcoming then as they cupped your elbows.

Still trying to push out excuses (at this point as much for your own reaction as the accident itself) between hiccups, you were not prepared for him.

His coat was practical and glistening from the rain that gathers on the treated material rather than soak into it...as opposed to your own old jacket that could double as a sponge.

“Just breathe,” he smiled from under the hood, “and stop apologizin’, ‘aight?” Well, you did shut up, too stunned by the crooked smile and the sunshine peeping out at you from his eyes. “That’s better. Lemme just grab this -” he bend for the remains of your phone -”and then...maybe I can offer ya somethin’ warm to drink?”

“Shouldn’t...shouldn’t I do that?” Your voice began to rise once more despite your best intentions. “I wasn’t watchi-”

“Nope.” You liked the way the P popped. “Gotta make sure ya fine...that’s kinda my thing, y’know.”

“O-okay...”

He had done just that: brought you to a warm café and hooked you up with their biggest mocha with chocolate powder on top (he even secured you a seat close to the heater) while still chatting about random things to calm you down.

But then his phone had rang and he’d have to leave.

You never got around to ask about his name...but later, when your brain decided to finally cooperate, you realized you didn’t have to: you had just been helped by Sam Wilson, former Falcon and the new Captain America.

That could have been the end of that.

It left you with dreams you neither wanted to share with anyone nor forget. Something inside you had woken up, wanting company but finding nothing but solitude – not that you technically were alone, of course.

You found yourself reading about Wilson’s heroic deeds both before and after the Avengers...and you kept noticing the little details that people seemed to ignore on the gossip pages or in the headlines. You fell for the man without the wings and shield.

A month later (and thankfully a few seasonal jobs too), you walked from the subway towards your little apartment after a long shoot. It was late and you were too tired to notice much about your surroundings until the winter boots of someone appeared in your lowered field of vision, making you jerk back to attention.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya,” Sam Wilson smiled disarmingly.

You were several blocks from home still. The streetlight flickered, stretching the shadows from a nearby dumpster, and towering above you were windows which all tried to block out the world for the sake of the residents living there.

“What are you doing here?” You bit your tongue in regret immediately. “I-I mean uhm...you didn’t...didn’t scare me...”

If he had been offended, Sam didn’t show it. Instead he just smiled that crooked smile, flashing what you were absolutely certain must be the prettiest tooth gap. “Let me walk ya home for starters?”

“...sure.”

It wasn’t winter anymore inside you when he was there. It was as good as you were ever going to get, knowing your dreams were unrealistic, so of course you decided to enjoy it for a little while. You walked side by side with him, basking in his warm presence until you were chatting as if he was an old friend.

“You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here, Sam.”

The two of you had come to a stop outside your complex. Fidgeting with your keys in the pocket, you wished that you could keep walking with him.

“Well...I was just gonna check in on you but now...this gonna sound crazy,” he pauses to scratch under the scarf, “...I was kinda hopin’ you’d let me finish that coffee with ya some day?”

He was still smiling although a bit more timidly and more towards the winter boots.

“I’d like that.” Inside you, a million sparklers were lit. “Tomorrow?”

“Hey baby girl, what ya smiling like a goof for?”

Sam’s voice calls you back to the real world – a real world where he’s coming over to you on the couch with a big mug of fresh coffee.

“You.” Closing the laptop, you push it away in favour of your boyfriend. “I was remembering how we bumped into each other.”

The memory makes him smile the way you love. “Best day in my life.”

“Same for me.” You kiss him. “I wouldn’t give us up for anything or anyone.” Not even jealous haters.

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mariinara · 3 years ago

Note

Charlie's reaction when he sees you putting a tea bag in a mug, filling the mug with water then putting it in the microwave 💀

A Proper Cuppa (Charlie Cutter x Reader !Fluff!)

A/N: Oh nawww 😟 NOOOOO. That's like breaking spaghetti in front of Italians. That shit is a whole crime in his book. Not killing people, no, fucking up tea or wasting a good tea bag. WHY.

Warnings: None! Just Charlie being British.

Oh, lord.

His body just— It reacted.

He just saw it all in slow motion.

His girlfriend – you – who had just moved in with him, reaching into the microwave, with a mug in her hand. He saw the bright yellow lipton tea tag, glinting at him from a distance, as if begging for help— Mercy.

And he just found himself moving towards you, practically lurching forward, his hands outstretched, "No, no, no, no..!" He protested loudly, grabbing the mug and pulling it away from you, horror etched in his face, "What do you think you're doing?!" He asked, eyes wide and voice in a hissed whisper, like you just killed someone you weren't supposed to.

You were scared, back against the counter and brows furrowed, hand on your chest, "M-Making tea?" You responded, not really sure what's going on with him.

"That's not tea." He quickly retorted, looking into the mug, cringing, and then looking back up at you, "That's just bloody brown leaf water!" He exclaimed, "Microwaving it– What are Americans on?!"

Oh.

So that's what that whole thing was.

Your shoulders just slacked and you let out a sigh, mixed in with a small, relieved laugh, "Charlie.." You whined playfully, "It's no big deal, babe—" You reach for the mug, "Here, lemme–" He pulls it away from you, not letting you have it.

Your hands drop to your sides and you raise a brow at him, "Okay, well–" You shrug, "What do you want me to do?"

He pauses, "Listen," He leans closer to you, "I love you. So I'm not going to let you have this stale mug of horse piss. Not while I can help it." He sighs painfully, dumping the components of the mug into the toilet and disposing of the wet, ruined tea bag, "You, little lady, are going to learn how to make a proper cuppa."

You threw your head back and whined some more, exasperated. You just wanted to sit down and watch TV! But, oh, you had no idea.. This man was about to change your life..

And he spends some time running back and forth in his kitchen, pulling things out of the cabinet— A different brand of tea for starters. Namely Ty-phoo. And then a tea pot, a kettle, two tea cups, milk, and sugar.

"Get over here," He stands at the counter and you drag your feet to stand next to him, feeling like a kid who'd been banned from break time to do extra work with the teacher for being a stupid idiot in class, "I'm going to show you what to do in one tea cup, and you'll follow my steps in the other one. Got it?"

You nodded, smiling a little at the teacups that had flowers on them. He was just.. adorable.

"Okay. You'll fill this up with water first.." He instructed, handing over the kettle to you, catching you a little off guard. You stared up at him, eyes big and confused as he looked back expectantly, "Well? Go on, love."

"R-Right!"

You hurried to the sink, filling the kettle up with water, glancing at him while he watched you. When you were done, you brought it back to him and he placed it on its electric panel, "You want to bring your water to a boil. Hot water will not do." He sighed, turning to you fully, "The thing about this.." He pointed at the microwave, "It doesn't spread out the heat evenly. So your tea doesn't taste as rich as it's supposed to."

Your face almost broke from how big you smiled after that, and you just stood to your tip toes to press a loving kiss to his lips, "Okay, big boy.. What next?"

He just relaxed. Smiled at you and huffed, "You're going to kill me one day, you know that..?" He mumbled.

"I know, I know. I'm infuriating, right?"

"An understatement, actually."

You share a little laugh, and then he turns serious again.

"We'll wait for this to boil. The art of getting this right is developing this sense.. When you get used to making it, you know when to do what and it flows naturally."

You nod, like you were a soldier receiving a briefing from her captain.

"Just before the water comes to that nice boil, you pour just a little in your tea pot, swirl it around to get it all warm for you."

You nod again, humming.

Smart. A lot of work, though. Very un-american.

While he's giving you these instructions, the water in the kettle starts boiling and it switches off, signaling that it was ready.

"Get four tea bags ready."

You quickly comply, then lay them on the counter and place the box back in his cabinet, "What then?"

"Hot kettle, coming through." He steps next to you, pouring some water in the pot, "Give it a little swirl."

You do as he says, smiling. This was nice.

"Good girl.." He coos, making your face heat up all of a sudden, "Now dump it in the sink."

When you come back from doing that, you put the pot down and put the tea bags in like he tells you, then watch him immediately pour the boiling water on top, put the lid on the pot, and then cover it with a towel to keep the whole thing warm.

"I know Americans aren't too fond of patience, but we'll need to leave this for a while. The longer we do, the better it tastes." He – regrettably – informs you, seeing you throw your head back and groan in frustration, "Just for five minutes, love— Not too long, now."

This stops you from complaining a little, but you just pout at him, and he resorts to pulling you in for a kiss that lasted.. longer.. than you expected. Turned into a whole make-out session that was one moan away from having Charlie go "Fuck the tea". Blasphemous.

When you go to the tea, Charlie excitedly but carefully removes the towel and lid, showing it to you, "See its color?"

Your eyes twinkle, "Wow.." You look up at him, "Brown!"

"Ah– That is straight out of a gold mine, sweetheart. Smell it."

And you do. You inhale the strong tea deeply and hum in delight, nearly breaking into a dance at how nice it smelt,

"See?" He chuckles, "Now.. Grab a teacup. This is the moment of truth."

You bring in your cup with him, and he pours some tea in both of them, "Add your sugar first if you're going to add milk. Give it a chance to dissolve."

You decide that you want milk, so you reach for the sugar, put in your desired amount, and carefully stir it, then put in your milk, glancing at Charlie to see him doing the same.

"Okay.." He mutters, and you both stand in front of each other, tea cups in hand, "Cheers?"

You laugh lightly, "Cheers."

Your cups gently clink together and you both take a sip at the same time.

And, jesus, that tea was practically what love tasted like. It made your insides dance when you swallowed it. Revealed entirely new worlds. Made you see color clearly. It was full of flavor and life. It was so rich!

Charlie saw your eyes widen and twinkle, and he grinned as he sipped on his tea.

"Delicious, innit?"

"Charlie Cutter.." You shake your head, humming as you took another sip from the liquid heaven in your cup, "I will marry you one of these days."

#he takes his tea very seriously #charlie cutter #uncharted #THIS WAS A LOT OF FUN TO WRITE

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

Running to a Standstill - 14

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 3331

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut (MM, frottage, oral sex, anal fingering)

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 14

Steve woke before both you and Bucky. He would normally get up and go for a run, but there was something too inviting about staying curled up in bed with both of you to resist.

Bucky had ended up in the middle, cuddled around you while Steve spooned him. Seeing him now, wrapped around you, reminded Steve of when they were still boys and hadn’t acknowledged how they felt. Steve would often wake up with Bucky draped over him. Steve had never liked feeling that small. He wondered if Bucky had liked being able to hold someone like that.

The bedroom door opened and a bleary-eyed looking Geo cuddling his tablet. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and just stared at the bed.

“Hey, G,” Steve said, softly. “You wanna climb in here with us?”

Geo shook his head and point at the door before shoving his thumb back in his mouth.

Steve smiled and untangled himself from Bucky. It wasn’t as easy as he thought, and Bucky grumbled and shifted closer to you. It was interesting. He’d walked in on Bucky sleeping a few times since getting him back and Bucky had always jolted awake and gone into a defensive position, prepared to be attacked. Yet here he was, deep asleep and not waking for either someone entering the room or being shuffled around. Steve wondered if Bucky was just more attuned to what was happening and who was with him, or he was just so relaxed that his usual expectations of being attacked had just failed to be set off.

Steve followed Geo out into the living room and the little boy went straight to the kitchen and pointed up at the cupboard where Steve kept his cereal. “You want some breakfast, buddy?”

Geo nodded and pointed again and Steve opened the cupboard. The array of cereal had definitely expanded since you moved in. He used to have granola, corn flakes, and cheerios. Now there were Honey Bunches of Oats, Rice Krispies, and Lucky Charms in there too. “Which one do you want, G?”

Geo still wasn’t talking. He just pointed again and Steve started to touch the boxes in the hope that Geo might nod when he touched the one he wanted.

“Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY announced. “Geo wanted me to tell you he wants Lucky Charms.”

Steve chuckled and got the box from the cupboards. “Thanks, FRIDAY,” he said. “You not ready to talk yet, Gee?”

Geo shook his head, his thumb firmly planted in his mouth.

Steve grabbed a plastic bowl and poured the cereal into it. “That’s okay. You don’t have to talk to anyone.”

He added milk to the cereal, grabbed a spoon, and set Geo up at the coffee table with a box of apple juice. He turned on some cartoons and Geo just sat quietly watching Scooby-Doo as he ate. Steve went back into the kitchen to try and figure out what he’d make for everyone else. He wasn’t really much of a cook. Or a cook at all. He liked to joke he could make a peanut butter sandwich and it would end up burned. While he considered what he could handle that was more than just toast and cereal, he put on the coffee.

You and Bucky emerged from the bedroom still looking like you were both not quite awake. Bucky came straight to the kitchen while you went and kissed Geo good morning.

“Were you trying to make breakfast?” Bucky asked.

“I was thinking about it,” Steve said. “It’s the thought that counts right?”

“You tell that to my stomach, pal,” Bucky teased and started pulling things out of the fridge.

“Thanks for getting Geo his breakfast,” you said, coming into the kitchen. “What are we making?”

“I was thinking omelets,” Bucky said. “We can put what we like in them.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed and grabbed a bowl and started cracking eggs into it. “So I was thinking…”

Steve looked over at you. There was an edge to your voice that told him you were overthinking things again.

“I’m really worried about Geo starting to see you as … well dads I guess,” you said. You spoke quietly, clearly not wanting Geo to overhear. “At least not until we’re all absolutely sure this is it for all of us. And it’s far too early for that. I was already concerned about him forming too strong bonds with everyone here. I don’t want him to start getting separation anxiety on top of everything else.”

“So what were you thinkin’, hon?” Bucky asked, looking up from the cutting he was doing.

“Well, I’m staying here because it’s not safe too. But ideally, I wouldn’t be living with Steve,” you explained. “I’m wondering if I should start sleeping in Geo’s room again. Not always. Just… so he doesn’t get the image of us in bed together connected with the way parents sleep in the same bed in TV shows. You know?”

Steve nodded, though he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I think maybe you shouldn’t sleep over all the time either, Buck. Just … you know?” You said.

Bucky nodded too and rubbed your back. “I get it.”

“But I think this could be good for us too, because… I think we should also spend time together as couples. Particularly you two. I think you have to … explore some things together without me,” you explained. “You know what I mean?”

Steve couldn’t fault your logic. There had been so much he and Bucky had missed out on and even though he’d enjoyed the sex he’d had with you both, there were probably things they needed to try one-on-one too. It was good to make sure the bonds with each other were as strong as the bonds as a trio were too. “It makes sense,” he agreed.

“Good,” you said, sounding relieved. “So I don’t know, maybe some nights we all sleep here, some nights it’s just me and Bucky, and some night you guys sleepover in Bucky’s apartment. And we just… take turns with this being Geo’s home. Does that … is that okay?”

“It’s a really good idea,” Bucky agreed. “And trust me, the last thing we want to do is hurt Geo. So we’ll be careful.”

“Thanks, Bucky,” you said. “I mean, I want this to work…”

“Of course you do,” Steve said. “We all do, but you’re right to protect him.”

“So, uh…” Bucky said, getting a pan out. “How do we decide?”

“Yeah, that’s tricky,” you said. “Don’t want people to feel left out, so how about tonight, that is if you’re both available, you guys go on a first date. You have a lot of time to make up.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Steve asked.

You shook your head. “Geo and I can watch a movie and have an early night.”

“Alright, Buck? What do you think? Want to go out for dinner with me?” Steve asked.

Bucky smiled. It was genuine and Steve could see the love he felt reflected back at him. “I’d love to, Stevie.”

Steve took Bucky to a jazz club in the end. It was dark and loud and very difficult to talk, but Steve didn’t feel like he needed to talk to Bucky. He and Bucky had talked and talked and talked and talked. It was time for all the other things they’d missed out on. The holding hands on the table. The sharing bites of each other’s food. The cuddling. The stolen kisses. He needed to have the dance. He wanted the dance he had failed to get in all his years on earth.

The jazz club was perfect because of how dark and loud it was. He didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or having people’s eyes on him. The food was good but not outside his comfort zone, so he didn’t have to worry about the wrong choice. Most importantly, he could dance to music that was familiar to him with the man he had been in love with since 1935.

Steve had chosen familiar foods. It was food he’d imagined would have seemed so fancy to him back when he was a kid. A shrimp cocktail for starters and rib-eye steak for his entree. He even ordered a martini, like he was playing at being a spy and this was the persona he needed to fit.

Bucky was a little more daring, ordering grilled asparagus with goat’s cheese to start and mussels served in a garlic and white wine broth for his entree.

It almost didn’t matter in the end though. They sat close to each other on their tiny table and they switched plates back and forth as they ate. Steve got all the things he’d imagined when he was young when he thought about going out on a date with Bucky. Only no one cared that it was two men sitting there, holding hands and stealing kisses. The floor was always packed with people swing dancing.

They were finishing up their meals when Bucky leaned into him. “Are you actually going to ask me to dance, pal?”

Steve smiled and his face flushed. “Will you lead? I still don’t know how.”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky said, standing and offering Steve his hand. “I’ll lead.”

Bucky led Steve around the dance floor, spinning him and dipping him. The more they danced the more comfortable Steve felt and the better he got. Until they were both laughing and jiving together in the crowd of people.

The music changed from something up-tempo to something slow and sexy. For a moment Steve considered sitting down. It was one thing to jitterbug with Bucky, it was another completely to slow dance with him in front of all these people. Bucky didn’t seem to question it for a second, he just pulled Steve close and put his hands on Steve’s hips. They slowly swayed together on the dance floor, cheek-to-cheek. The smell of Bucky’s cologne, warm and woody, mixed with the salt on his skin, seemed to cut through the smell of sweat and alcohol and cooking that otherwise dominated the room. It was just him and Bucky, and while part of him wished you were here too to be part of this, he appreciated that it was just Bucky. It felt right.

“I want you to take me home,” Bucky whispered against Steve’s ear. Normally Bucky saying something like that would make Steve worry he was in the midst of a panic attack. There was something completely different about it this time. Something dark and sexy.

Steve took his hand and led him off the dance floor. He settled the check as quickly as he could and the two made their way back out and flagged down a cab.

Bucky kept nosing at Steve’s cheek and trying to initiate a kiss. Steve wasn’t ready for that yet. Not so publicly. It wasn’t Bucky. He’d be the same with you too. Public displays of affection made him feel awkward.

“Stevie,” Bucky teased, nipping at Steve’s earlobe.

“Just be patient,” Steve said, nudging Bucky.

The car pulled up at the front of the Avengers Tower and Steve paid while Bucky tried to drag him out of the back seat.

When they got into the elevator Bucky pushed him up against the wall and kissed him hungrily. Steve couldn’t stop smiling into Bucky’s lips even as the other man fumbled at his belt and dragged him close so their hips touched.

The elevator opened and Bucky practically dragged Steve down to his apartment. “So eager, Buck,” Steve teased as he let Bucky pull him through the door into his apartment.

Bucky’s apartment was always impossibly clean, but pretty homey. The couch was a soft black leather but most everything else was timber. A mixture of stained ash, cedar, and white paint. He had art on the walls. Mostly photography or vector art of cars or motorcycles, but there was a sketch Steve had done of the view down the street from Bucky’s fire escape. It was a recent one and done by memory. Something Steve had drawn in the hopes of prodding Bucky’s memory. There was also a calendar on the wall set on the wrong month with a print of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers.

“I just -“ he looked over to the bedroom. “-you know?”

Steve laughed and began to unbutton Bucky’s shirt. “It’s not like we did that very long ago.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, grabbing the waistband of Steve’s pants and dragging him toward the bedroom. “And it was good. And now I want to do it again.”

Bucky started to kiss Steve’s neck as he unfastened his pants and Steve pushed Bucky’s shirt off. Steve trailed his fingers along the scarring that connected Bucky’s arm to his shoulder. Bucky flinched and took Steve’s hand and moved it down to his side.

“Sorry,” Steve whispered, kissing Bucky’s neck. “Does it hurt?”

Bucky shook his head. “No… well yeah, always. But not more when you touch it. I just hate it. Don’t want to be reminded of it now.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said. He got it. It was a constant brutal reminder of what had happened to him. What he’d lost and how he’d been changed. Steve got sensitive about people pointing out his looks after he had the serum when they ignored him so much before it. The arm and the scarring would be much worse than that.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said and brought his lips to Steve’s. They kissed passionately. Their lips moved against each other’s, as Bucky pulled Steve back towards the bed. Steve unfastened Bucky’s fly and pushed his pants down. When Bucky was down to just his boxer briefs, he pushed Steve back onto the bed and straddled his lap, kissing him hungrily as he ground his hips against Steve’s.

Steve was still fully dressed and his cock began to strain against his pants. He could feel Bucky’s erection with each roll of the other man’s hips. It rubbed against Steve’s and a little wet patch began to form on Bucky’s underwear.

Steve ran his hands down Bucky’s back and gripped his ass, pulling him firmer against him. “Fuck, Steve… I want you…” Bucky groaned.

“I’m yours, Buck,” Steve whispered.

Bucky began to frantically undress Steve, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and the buckle on his belt. Steve lay back and tangled his hands in Bucky’s hair, letting him take the lead. When Bucky had finally stripped Steve of his clothes, he looked down into his eyes and ran his metal hand over Steve’s chest.

Steve was achingly hard but a little unsure what to do next and it looked like Bucky might be feeling a little lost too. Steve pushed Bucky’s boxers down and wrapped his hand around both their cocks and began to pump them in his hand as they were pressed together.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Bucky groaned. “That feels so good.”

Steve rolled them both over so he was on top. “I want you to feel good,” he whispered and began to kiss Bucky’s neck. Bucky reached over to his bedside table and fumbled around as Steve began to kiss his way down Bucky’s chest. There was a crash as the drawer fell to the ground and Steve looked up startled to see Bucky holding a tube of lubricant up almost triumphantly.

“What do you want?” Steve asked, taking it from Bucky.

“Stretch me,” Bucky said, the hint of pleading in his voice.

Steve nodded and slicked his fingers with the thick gel. Bucky wrapped his arms around his knees, lifting them so Steve had better access to his ass. Steve teased his fingers over Bucky’s tight hole and very slowly began to ease one inside. Bucky closed his eyes and his head fell back with his lips slightly parted. A soft low moan escaped his lips and Steve couldn’t help but admire how beautiful Bucky looked when he let himself enjoy something.

Steve dropped his head down, pulling Bucky’s cock into his mouth. He licked a salty bead of pre-come off the head of Bucky’s cock, savoring the taste of the man he’d been in love with for so long and appreciating the fact he was finally getting to have this. He eased his finger in deeper, moving it in and out as he slowly bobbed his head up and down on Bucky’s cock, testing his own limits as he tested Bucky’s.

Bucky gave himself to his pleasure. Relaxing into it. He squirmed under Steve and moaned loudly. It was happening very quickly. Steve had only gotten his finger into one knuckle when Bucky’s cock began to throb in Steve’s mouth. Steve kept the same steady pace. He wanted Bucky to enjoy this. No pain. No shame. Just pleasure. He moved his finger in and out, pushing it in a little more each time but never forcing it. If Bucky clenched, he’d pull back, when he relaxed, Steve would push in deeper.

He took Bucky’s cock deeper into his throat, gagging a little as he did. His mouth stretched around his thick shaft but he enjoyed it. His own cock was hard and leaking as he pleasured Bucky. Bucky’s moans became panting and his hips started to buck up into Steve’s mouth.

“Steve,” he moaned. “Stevie, I’m gonna come.”

Steve moved a little faster and sucked a little harder and with a loud moan, Bucky arched his back and came, his cock releasing straight down Steve’s throat. There was so much, and Steve swallowed it all, saving the thick and salty mess. He moaned as he pulled off and slid his fingers from Bucky’s ass.

Bucky almost jumped up pulling Steve into a passionate and frantic kiss. “Fuck, Stevie,” he mumbled between kisses. “I wanna do you. Can I?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, Bucky’s lips still firmly on his. “Yeah, Buck. I’d like that.”

Bucky guided Steve onto his back and scrambled down Steve’s body. He quickly slicked the fingers with the lube and dropped down, sucking Steve’s cock. Steve groaned at the warm, wet pressure of Bucky’s mouth. He kept his eyes locked on him, enjoying the view as Bucky sucked up and down his cock. Bucky massaged Steve’s asshole as he bobbed his head up and down on his cock. It sent a warm tingled running through Steve, and his head felt pleasantly fuzzy with it. There was a slight burn as Bucky’s finger eased in. Steve hadn’t been expecting how completely good that would feel, even the slight pain that happened the deeper Bucky pushed his finger was the good kind, like after a good workout. He groaned and began to roll his hips up into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky let him push in deeper and started adding a second finger. The burn was more but Steve enjoyed that too. He moaned loudly, letting himself really experience it.

As Bucky’s fingers moved deeper and faster in and out of Steve’s ass, Steve began to pant and his cock twitched and throbbed. Bucky moaned as it began to leak precum down his throat. Bucky’s fingers touched on this sweet spot inside Steve and Steve gasped and jerked his hips. “Fuck!” I cursed, and he came hard and without warning. His orgasm seemed to start in his gut, something he’d never experienced before. The intensity of it shocked him. Bucky choked and pulled back, spilling Steve’s come on his stomach.

Bucky pulled his finger out and collapsed down on the bed beside Steve.

“That was…” Steve hummed.

“Mmm,” Bucky agreed.

Steve sat up and kissed Bucky’s stomach. “Let’s take a shower.”

Bucky smiled and got up with him. As they went into the bathroom Steve felt warm and grateful that you’d given this time alone. You were right, you all needed that. But still, he was looking forward to tomorrow when it would be all three of you again.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky #stucky x reader #captain america #the winter soldier #captain america fanfic #the winter soldier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #running to a standstill

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parkertech · 4 years ago

Text

Tattoos & Tears — CHAPTER 6

a/n: on everybody's 18th birthday, they get a tattoo of their soulmate written on their wrist. for you, it's your best friend who you thought you got over. who even has a girlfriend of his own.

warnings: swearing, slight smut

———————————————————————

The room seemed to shrink more and more as seconds were spent in pure silence. Peter never left his glaring eyes from you, eyeing how you couldn’t look at him. Instead you kept twirling your fingers and looking at them.

You knew eventually the secret would be out, but now that it became a reality, it was way more intense than you thought it was going to be. You’ve never seen Peter look at you like that. It’s always been smiles and laughter, twinkling eyes and happiness. Now, it’s silence and glares, hands in tight fists and waiting for someone to say something. Peter was getting impatient by the minute, and was tired of the rather very undeserved silence you were giving.

“Speak.” It wasn’t a question. It was more of a demand. His void was raspy and cold, causing shivers to run down your back and goosebumps to arrive on your skin. You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it immediately afterwards. You wanted to scream sorry and confess your heart out. You just wanted to drop all your walls and let it all out. But the words wouldn’t come up. It obviously didn’t make Peter happy. It only made him angrier.

“SPEAK!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. He ignored how you flinched and stepped away from him. All his friends could have easily heard him, but that wasn’t his focus either. His focus was on how betrayed and hurt he felt. You never kept secrets from him, especially something this big. His heart was aching from your actions, and it overcame all his senses and gave him no control.

“I....I-I’m sorry...” you whispered under your breath. Peter scoffed. Then chuckled. And then chuckled again. Now he was laughing in disbelief.

“Sorry? Sorry? That’s what you’re going with?” You knew it was a bad starter, and Peter was in complete disbelief. He deserved way more than just a sorry. “What are you sorry for, Y/N? Hiding the fucking fact that you’re my supposed ‘soulmate’?” Something about the way he said soulmate made you lose the shy demeanor, which was replaced with an anger mirroring his.

“Yes! Of course I’m sorry for that! ‘Oh, let me go up to my boy best friend since middle school and tell him the tattoo is his name when he has a fucking girlfriend!“ Peter groaned and looked away, knowing you were somewhat right. But you did more than hide it.

“Okay, yeah, sure, but you said it was Brad! You lied to me!” The haunting memory came back, and it was your turn to look away.

“I had to come up with something! If I didn’t you would’ve been on my ass about it!” You sighed and started rubbing your temples, trying to calm down. “This is exactly why I didn’t wanna say anything! Because you’re in love with...MJ.” For some reason, that last sentence was hard to get out. It knocked the wind right out of you, causing your chest to ache and your eyes to tear up. Peter noticed and looked down at his shoes, his own memories coming back.

“I....I’m not anymore...” he mumbled meekly.

“What...?” You started wide eyed at him, taken aback by his sentence. He’s always been in love with her. Ever since the beginning. He’s done everything for her. He must be lying. That’s the only explanation. “Listen, Pete...my hearts already been broken from this...you don’t have to lie.”

It was Peter’s turn to look at you in disbelief. Heartbroken? What?

“What do you mean?” You sighed, knowing exactly what to say at that moment. The secret was already out. No point in hiding anymore...

“Peter...I’ve been in love with you since freshman year, I was just really good at hiding it. D-Do you remember the week where I went M.I.A?” He nodded and swallowed hard. “That was because I saw you kiss MJ...hence the whole ‘heartbreak’ thing. I went through it already and I don’t want to have to go through it again, so don’t lie and say you love me.” You couldn’t hide back the pain in your voice. Peter’s head was running one hundred miles per hour, causing him to sit down on his bed, running his hands through his hair.

He took in your words and your confession slowly. Heartbreak. Kissing MJ. You love him. As crazy as it sounds, he didn’t even hang onto the fact that you loved him. And he was your soulmate. It all clicked when you really looked at it. Peter didn’t know whether to love it or hate it.

For some reason, Peter’s silence led you to slowly sit down next to him. He kept looking away from you, keeping his elbow on his knee and his hand in his curls. You took a deep breath, realizing he wasn’t going to say anything. “Like I was saying...you love MJ. And I’m with Brad, so...maybe we can put this behind us and act like it never happened?” You proposed. Peter sniffed and looked at you and disbelief.

“We cannot put something like this behind us. And I don’t love MJ, I said it already.” Still in disbelief, you titled your head and squinted your eyes slightly.

“If you don’t love her then why are you still in a relationship with her?” You were putting him on the spot, and now it was Peter’s turn for his anxiety to grow.

“Because I don’t wanna hurt her, Y/N! MJ’s a cool person, but I don’t like her as a girlfriend anymore. I don’t love her anymore.” You watched intently as he kept his eyes trained on yours. Your face fell in realization. He was telling the truth. “I...I love you.” He whispered. For some reason the air became thicker and the only thing in that small bedroom was him. His eyes never left yours, as you both kept staring at each other.

There was some sort of black hole that was aching between you two, causing to slowly pull closer to him. Peter saw as your widened eyes softened, and he titled his head towards yours. His diverted from your lips, then your eyes, then back at your lips again. You were leaning more closer now. So close, that Peter’s breath was tickling your nose and cheeks. In an agonizing and long few seconds, you felt his soft lips on yours, and your shoulders relax. Peter hummed softly into the kiss, feeling his own weight being lifted off his chest. There goes the butterflies in his tummy, and his flushed, red cheeks. Your self consciousness was turned off, as you decided to keep initiating the kiss, and press your lips more firmly against his.

Slightly taken aback, Peter’s lips stuttered before moving with yours. Soft, gentle pecks turned into slow, passionate open mouthed kisses, and you found yourself needing to pull away at the lack of oxygen. Your forehead never left his, both of your eyes hooded and your pants mixing. You looked up into Peter’s eyes, and then his face. Something about how flushed his lips and cheeks were made that familiar desire crawl back all over your body. You didn’t hesitate to fist his t-shirt in both your hands, and yank him towards you for another kiss.

Peter groaned before kissing you back with just as much force, causing a rhythmic smacking sound erupt in the room. His hand started slowly crawling up your hip, gripping it tightly. You softly whimpered before hiking both of your legs next to his hips, straddling him. The position got you closer to Peter, making that fire in your explore even more. To say you’ve dreamed about this day would be an understatement.

Peter was beginning to grow impatient as he pulled away, trailing his kisses down your jawline. You tilted your head back, giving him more access and freedom to do whatever he wanted. His grip on your hips tightened, surely leaving marks as his lips danced on your neck. You gasped as he kissed your sweet spot, feeling Peter smirk against that same spot. He started sucking and nipping, causing you to softly moan into his ear, gripping his chocolate curls and tugging. He groaned into your neck before smoothing the red mark with his tongue. You closed your eyes and hummed, causing Peter to be more aggressive and start sucking more marks into your neck.

Sure, you’ve had your first kiss before, but they compared nothing to what was happening now. No one kissed you like this before. Especially not Brad.

Wait, Brad!

“P-Pete...” you whispered softly. Peter misunderstood your sound for one of pleasure, and started sucking even harder. As good as it felt, you knew how wrong it was and started to gently push against his chest. But he couldn’t seem to take the hint, being completely entranced by you. You started pulling away from him and hitting his chest more firmly. “Peter!”

Peter heard your alarmed cry and looked up at you panicked. “W-what? What did I do?” A million thoughts ran through his mind, but his main one was that he mad you uncomfortable and fucked everything up. His hair was a mess, now being a messy plop of curls, his chest heaving up and down from how passionate the moment was. You took one last glance at how perfect he looked, no matter how messy he was, before getting off his lap and losing his touch entirely.

“T-This is wrong...so wrong.” Peter swallowed hard and looked at you embarrassed, while you tried to smooth your hair down and collect yourself.

“I’m sorry-“ Peter started.

“D-Don’t, just...never speak of this again.” You looked at him with slightly teary eyes before opening the door and storming down the hallway. You quickly grabbed your phone from the couch where everyone was sleeping and made a beeline for the front door, practically slamming it down and sprinting towards your house.

Peter was still in slight shock, trying to process what happened. He knew it was wrong, but you kept imitating it. So who’s fault is it? Fuck, what if MJ finds out? He would hurt her more than ever. He thought he got this weight off his shoulders already, but you pulling away from him made it come back twice as heavy. He groaned and hid his hands in face, sitting in silence with nothing but his thoughts. Now he definitely had no choice. He had to tell MJ as soon as possible.

———

Peter tried texting you before going to bed, but you never even opened them. His stomach was stuck in knots that couldn’t be untangled, the nights events replaying in his head. He kept his hands buried in his pockets and his head down, taking occasional glances so he could see where he was going in the sea of students. He glanced up and saw MJ leaning against his locker looking left and right. He blew some air out, mentally preparing himself before standing next to her. She sent a friendly and sweet smile before kissing his cheek.

“Hey, loser.” She mumbled. He chuckled a bit at the nickname, knowing this might be the last time he’ll ever hear it.

“H-Hey, um, I-I have to talk to you...” He said meekly. MJ’s smile didn’t change as he kept looking at him.

“Okay, yeah, one second, Y/N!” She shouted from the hall. Peter looked behind her, and saw you chatting with Brad at the lockers not too far from them. He noticed you were wearing a turtleneck, probably to hide the hickeys he unintentionally gave you last night. Once he locked eyes with you he looked down and cleared his throat. “Can you come here for a sec? Bring Brad with you.” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at Brad, only to find him mirroring you. He shrugged slightly before walking with you in front of MJ.

“Hey MJ, what’s up?” You asked cautiously. Peter was silent and glaring daggers at Brad, who had an arm around your shoulder. Much to his please, you gently shrugged it off and kept your attention on MJ.

“Nothin’ just thought I’d need you all 3 for this right here.” MJ pulled out her phone and turned it on it’s side, so the screen was now in a horizontal view. You all moved closer to her and looked at her phone. You felt your heart drop and your face pale.

It was a video of you and Peter from last night, making out—you straddling his waist. The smacking sounds and soft moans didn’t make it better, and your ears started ringing while Peter’s throat started growing a lump at the bottom.

“Y/N...are you fucking kidding me?” Brad asked you, pure anger lacing his voice. You looked up at him, your eyes glossy in tears, your mouth open in shock. “When the fuck was this?”

“Last night. At Peter’s birthday party.” MJ answered for him. Her voice was calm in the most disturbing way, not an ounce of hurt or betrayal in it. You saw as Brad’s jaw clenched, his own betrayal showing through.

“Why the fuck would you do this, Y/N?!” MJ scoffed and turned to Peter.

“Yeah, Peter. Why would you do this, too?” None of you had an answer as Peter looked down at his beat up shoes and you stared at Brad’s hurt expression. The next few seconds are spent in silence before Brad scoffs and turns away from you, starting to walk away.

“Brad, wait!” You chased after him as Peter eyed you, feeling guilt slowly eat him up. He turned to MJ’s emotionless glare and swallowed thickly.

“In case it’s wasn’t obvious, we’re over, and you’re fucking dead to me.” MJ demanded. Her voice was now cold and aggressive, making her even more intimidating than before. She slammed her locker door, causing Peter to flinch. “Have fun with your soulmate, Peter.” MJ spat out, before turning away and walking to her first class, leaving Peter at his locker, the aching in his chest alternating between softening and becoming even more painful.

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