#i will never forget heart of darkness for being one fucking entire wall of text

[darsynia]

35 (but I'm in my 40s and didn't have the internet to keep me busy till I was 17 or so)

Fun fact: I was homeschooled (yeah you're not shocked) till I was 10, and my first ever book report was on Gone With the Wind. I had pity on my teacher though, I did the report on the differences between the book and the movie (did you know she had kids with EVERYONE she married? Girl had like 7 kids or something by the end of that book). I VIVIDLY remember the teacher helplessly telling me that she would have to take my word for it because she did not have the time to read the book to know if I was telling the truth before the grades were due.

The next book report had a max page count.

How many have you read?

The BBC estimates that most people will only read 6 books out of the 100 listed below. Reblog this and bold the titles you’ve read.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen 2 Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkein 3 Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte 4 Harry Potter series 5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee 6 The Bible 7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte 8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell 9 His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman 10 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens 11 Little Women – Louisa M Alcott 12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy 13 Catch 22 – Joseph Heller 14 Complete Works of Shakespeare 15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier 16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien 17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks 18 Catcher in the Rye 19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffeneger 20 Middlemarch – George Eliot 21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell 22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald 23 Bleak House – Charles Dickens 24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy 25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams 26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh 27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky 28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck 29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll 30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame 31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy 32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens 33 Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis 34 Emma – Jane Austen 35 Persuasion – Jane Austen 36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis 37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini 38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres 39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden 40 Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne 41 Animal Farm – George Orwell 42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown 43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez 44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving 45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins 46 Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery 47 Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy 48 The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood 49 Lord of the Flies – William Golding 50 Atonement – Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi – Yann Martel 52 Dune – Frank Herbert 53 Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons 54 Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen 55 A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth 56 The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon 57 A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens 58 Brave New World – Aldous Huxley 59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon 60 Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez 61 Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck 62 Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov 63 The Secret History – Donna Tartt 64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold 65 Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas 66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac 67 Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy 68 Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Fielding 69 Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie 70 Moby Dick – Herman Melville 71 Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens 72 Dracula – Bram Stoker 73 The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett 74 Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson 75 Ulysses – James Joyce 76 The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath 77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome 78 Germinal – Emile Zola 79 Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray 80 Possession – AS Byatt 81 A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens 82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchel 83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker 84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro 85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert 86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry 87 Charlotte’s Web – EB White 88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom 89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 90 The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton 91 Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad 92 The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery 93 The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks 94 Watership Down – Richard Adams 95 A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole 96 A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute 97 The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas 98 Hamlet – William Shakespeare 99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl 100 Les Miserables – Victor Hugo

[wires-and-hellfires]

hello I was wondering if I can request a vox x overlord reader dating but it’s a secret since it could mess up something with work anything like that but one day they were at club and while they were making outside in the alley and someone goes outside and sees them making out and takes pictures and it gets on the news and like everywhere

Stolen Moments

Pairing: Vox x overlord! reader

Description: You both agreed your relationship was best kept a secret, but some things are out of even an overlord's control.

Warnings: Thievery, Vox being jealous/possessive, mentions of weapons, mentions of soul contracts, Valentino mentioned being creepy,

Author note: Ahhhh thanks for the request, this was a blast to write! Added some details because I'm dramatic lol. Hope you enjoy!

The second you got his text you were out the door and down the back stairs.

The city was busy downtown at this time of night, filled with drunks, gamblers, dancers, and everything else hell has to offer. Going through the crowds would be tedious and time-consuming.

Glancing at your phone again, you moved towards the pipes on the wall behind your apartment building and pulled yourself onto the roof.

There were faster ways through the city if those knew where to look, and one did not become the overlord of thieves without knowing how to move quickly and unnoticed.

Halfway to the location, a sinner perched on a roof startled as you landed next to him, reaching for a gun.

"It would be best for both of us if you never saw me and went back to... doing whatever the hell you were doing up here," you murmured, watching his eyes go hazy and grip on the weapon slacken before continuing on your way.

You reached the back alley of the club in record time.

Vox paced behind the building, his screen illuminating the darkness.

As you approached, purposely making your footsteps audible, he spun around and closed the distance between you two. Allowing him to maneuver you against the wall, you blinked up at him as he loomed over you.

"Hey, woah, okay then, nice to see you too-" but he didn't respond with his standard grin and remark about needing to be close to you or some bullshit, instead, just continued to stare, as if memorizing your face beneath him. "What's got you all worked up?"

And that set him off.

"Fucking Valentino, the wrinkly prick, needs to learn when to keep his fucking mouth shut-" and oh, yeah, you knew where this was going.

You met Valentino earlier that week, entirely by accident, and had it been anyone else, you would have 'persuaded' them to forget about you and moved along, but as another overlord, he would be difficult to convince. So, instead, you let it go. That was clearly a mistake.

He'd been creepy then and was seemingly still being creepy now, if Vox's possessiveness was anything to go by.

"-who does he think he is? Calling you a 'thief of hearts' like he's fucking clever-"

Vox knew you were in the middle of planning a job, the bastard, and he still messaged you an ominous "come here quick" text? What an asshole.

"-doesn't he know you're mine-"

"Vox."

Vox paused in his sentence, arms mid-gesture.

"He doesn't know I'm yours because we haven't told him. Or anyone. You know that."

You and Vox had decided early in the relationship to keep things private.

Your job was easiest if you were a nobody, just another face in the crowd and a shadow on the wall. Dating Vox would mean everyone in the Pride Ring knowing who you were and what you looked like.

Beyond that, Vox was a businessman and prided himself on his reputation. Though most people didn't actively dislike you, being in a relationship with the overlord of thieves may bring some scrutiny to him and VoxTech.

Grabbing his bowtie, you pulled his face closer to yours, grinning as he stumbled and caught himself on the wall behind you, effectively caging you in.

"Besides, you forget, you're mine too-"

His screen glitched and you couldn't help but laugh, tracing the edges of the monitor.

"How about you show me that I'm yours, huh?" you asked coyly, watching his gaze move down to your lips.

Preparations for the heist could wait.

When you two pulled apart again, he smiled softly at you, looking more like the Vox you knew in private, the Vox that was yours.

You were a bit possessive too, who wouldn't be when he's looking at you like that?

He was so distracted that it took him a few moments to realize what you were holding as you dangled his wallet in front of his face, smirking in triumph.

Regardless, he just sighed and took a step back, straightening his blazer.

"What? I think I deserve compensation for you interrupting my work and making me come all the way here."

"Baby, you already have my card, what do you need my wallet for?" he asked, exasperated.

Try as he might, you could see the fondness in his gaze anyhow.

"Fine, fine-"

Grinning, you handed him back his wallet and kissed the corner of his screen as you slipped past towards the entrance of the alleyway.

"-now go play nice for Velvette like you promised, and I'll see you at your place later, yeah?"

It was only after you'd left a meeting that evening, a new soul under contract, that you saw the photos.

Passing a TV store, you glanced at the news playing on one of the displays and froze.

That was you. You and Vox. Kissing.

"-is dating the overlord of thieves! Said to be able to steal anything, even souls, we have to wonder-"

The photo wasn't great quality, but clearly, it had been circulating for a while, as they managed to identify you and your status as overlord.

Ignoring the prickling stares on your back, you slipped into an empty antique shop and called Vox.

"Send a car, I'm coming over early."

"Ah, so you've seen the news then?"

"Vox-"

"Already on it."

Arriving through the back entrance to avoid the crowds of reporters, you escaped into the elevator up to Vox's floor.

Vox was waiting for you when you stalked into the living room.

"Did you know?"

He didn't hesitate.

"No, no I was a bit busy at the time. Besides, that phone was ancient, it probably wasn't on my servers." He paused, and, sensing your mood, added, "I'm sorry this will affect your work."

Well, that was rare.

Vox wasn't one to apologize unnecessarily, his ego was typically too big to even consider saying sorry unless someone told him he needed to.

But if he didn't know, well...

You sighed.

"It's alright, not your fault. Too late to scrub it from online, anyhow, everyone has already seen it."

Moving closer, he wrapped you in his arms, warming you from the chill of the outside.

"Hey, bright side, they think we look good together!"

"Vox-"

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[hansensgirl]

i’m in the water.

summary. | He’s in the wind, and you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.

warnings. | non/dubcon, smut, angst, protectiveness, kidnapping (implied), stockholm syndrome, obsessiveness, death/violence, dark themes, DDLG undertones, creampie kink, choking, piss kink (both pee), degradation, pet play undertones, p in v sex, Master kink, dacryphilia, crawling, slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, boot riding, orgasm denial, spitting, gagging, manhandling, praise, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 8.5k

pairings. | Dark!Winter Soldier x Naive!Reader.

a/n. | please heed the warnings! i hope you enjoy, and please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. they’re both very hydrated! this takes place in the 90’s! thank you so much @asadmarveltrashbag and @mypoisonedvine for proof reading for me ilysm!!

From the day you were born, you always felt as though your legs are broken. Always needing crutches throughout your life to hold you up, always needing support. But you never really had these crutches, so you'd always drag your hands against the brick walls to support yourself. Vulnerable, breaking away at the edges, falling down. Nothing kind ever came, and it stays the same for a while.

So maybe that’s why you lean into his icy cold touch. So abrasive and yet so caring. His aspects are juxtaposed to each other, just like in those Magritte paintings your art teacher would show you. She was always a kind lady, but you don’t care enough about her to wonder where she is in life now. She was kind to you, though, so you hope that she isn’t suffering like you are.

Your goosebumps raise for the fifth time in this painfully slow hour.

“Are you cold, кролик?” he asks even though he knows the answer. You hum. You always do. Your voice doesn’t raise in an affirmation. It stays flat; he knows what that means. “Thinking again?” he gruffly presses, squeezes your bare arms. The thin, grey shirt with torn sleeves does nothing to protect your body. But why do you ask for protection against the man who has done everything for you?

“Why… Why do people believe that grey is a boring colour?” you ask him, looking around the dark cell that surrounds you. Soldat grunts, not knowing what to say. “I think it’s quite beautiful. All colours have different shades, yes, but there’s something about grey. Each shade comes with a different emotion. Don’t you think so?” you ask him, looking down to your lap.

A carrot toy sits there. It’s filled with cotton balls from the medical room, by his request. “Yes…” He bites the tip of his tongue, not sure what to say because the Soldat only has a few emotions and a few words. “Why can’t we get a different wall colour?” you question him, turning around to face the man.

“It’s not allowed,” he reminds you. You feel like you’re experiencing déjà-vu, but then again, the days have blurred together so well that you can’t tell if the tape is being put on rewind already. You have to assume that your celluloid scenes are fading away along with your sanity. It’s torn at the seams. Threads hanging that just need to be ripped or cut out.

“Beige would look lovely…” you point out solemnly. The Soldat doesn’t know what shade of beige you’re thinking of, but he believes it would be beautiful nonetheless. “I… have a mission,” he tells you after a while. You hum in that same monotonous tone again, so he squeezes your arm even tighter. “When, Master?” you curiously ask, only now taking in his words.

“Tonight. Approximately at twenty-one hours,” he informs you in that mechanic voice of his that you hate. It makes you feel more trapped and vulnerable, even though there’s quite literally a chip in the back of your neck. “How long?” you ask him softly, a frown already beginning to display itself on your face.

He doesn’t like it when you frown. He prefers the lines that your smile provides over the lines your frown forces. That innocent glint in your eyes shines a bit, flickering like a dull light on the verge of completely blowing. Though it’s not much, it’s still something. And when it goes away, his entire being is filled with darkness.

You’re the light of his life, the fire of his loins.

“Not sure. Extraction of information. Senators and mayors…” He begins to ramble, and you shake your head. “Sorry, кролик,” he apologizes as he notices how uncomfortable you’re starting to get. You hum again. He wonders if you were a bird in your past life, perhaps a hummingbird, to be more exact. Or maybe even a swan or a dove because you’re just as beautiful as they are, if not more.

“You know how to behave, right? Потому что ты мой хороший маленький кролик?” he asks, and you don’t understand the second question, but you understand the former. “I know, Master,” you breathe, an airy ending to your words. “You’ll be good, кролик?” he questions one more time, and you lazily nod. You’re tired. Your body moves at a drowsy pace, and you don’t like it.

You don’t want to sleep, though. Scared that if you shut your eyes for too long, the monsters will come back, and Soldat won’t be able to save you. He always saves you. You’re his damsel, constantly in distress, locked away in a gilded cage. But he tells you it’s not a gilded cage. It’s not a run-down cell built in the fifties. It’s your home, even though you haven’t known what home is like for a while.

“I’ll always be good for you, Master. Please don’t leave for long. I get lonely easily,” you express in small bits of sadness and distress. “I know, кролик, я знаю,” Soldat says as he hugs you closer. You tilt your head backwards and let it lull on his shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he promises, and you know it’s not true because he never fulfills it. “But my carrot can’t keep me company for all those hours… Please stay? Please?” you plead with tears welling in your eyes.

“Я могу составить ей хорошую компанию,” the soldier standing outside the cell mutters under his breath, earning a few snickers from his coworkers. I can keep her in good company, is what he said. And it’s truly unfortunate that the guards have forgotten that the Soldat — the Asset — has super-hearing. Their laughter dies down into sighs, and Winter’s chest begins to heave.

He puffs up like the big bad wolf he is, and he tosses you to the side like a rag doll. You watch him as he strides his way over to the guards. Each step carries the weight of the Winter Soldier, the one who’s ready to kill whoever is in his sight. Except for you. His bionic hand reaches through the metal bars that separate him from the outside world.

He wraps his fingers around the guard’s neck, and he squeezes his throat tightly. As Winter crushes the guard’s windpipe, you watch him behind slightly squinted eyelids. Tears blur your eyesight, and you remember that time when you were holding off the tears so well, you couldn't see the HYDRA van driving ahead of you.

Maybe if you could control your emotions a little better, you wouldn’t be here.

But then again, where would you be without the Soldat? Miserable, stuck in the worst parts of town without anyone. Having to drag your hands across those brick walls, again and again. Surviving on your own, teetering on the edge of death. Just like these men at the hands of the Soldat.

The crunching of bones and the screams of men are all blocked out for you. You focus on Soldat’s arm whirring in the most satisfying harmony you’ve heard in the past two years. Other than the orchestra you both have managed to make almost every day. But you still cup your hands over your ears.

Winter pulls a knife from the guard’s limp body. That very same knife ends up inside his heart, stopping it from pumping. The guards begin shooting at Winter, but he easily shields himself with the metal arm. It goes silent, but you keep your hands over your ears. Muffled talking steps in place of the silence, and you look up to see members of HYDRA staring at your Winter and you.

“Солдат, Что ты натворил?” One of the head agents asks. You believe his name is Vasily Karpov because that is what Winter has told you. “The… The guard said something about my кролик. He’s not supposed to,” Winter explains, looking to the ground. Karpov mutters a chain of curse words under his breath that you’re not too happy about. One of the other agents asks him to speak up, and he snaps.

“Just get him to the armoury! We need to prep him,” he shouts before stalking away from the scene. They all stick around a few more seconds before scurrying off like little mice. The dead bodies still lay on the floor, but nobody seems to really care. What’s happened has happened, and there’s no changing it.

“Привести с собой солдата!” A rough voice blasts through the intercoms, and suddenly, more guards show up at your cell. You curl up into a ball and rest your forehead against your knees. You can’t bear to watch them take him away. You wait until the cell door swings shut, and then men stomp away. But even then, you cannot look up.

Bring the Soldat.

He wears that mask of his. The last time you saw it, it was caked with dirt and blood. You can hear his hard breathing behind it, almost sounding as though he’s just run a marathon. He sits in the edge of the cot — the left corner, to be exact — and he watches you. The Soldat states as you look down at the array of snacks he’s provided you with.

“Kролик,” Winter gruffly calls, and you turn around. You hum and your voice raises at the end. You haven’t done that in a while, so it startles him a bit. “Which one?” he asks, stretching his neck out just a bit to see what snack you’ve chosen. “N… Not sure,” you shyly whisper, ducking your head down in fear.

“Green one,” he says after a while, and you place your hand on it. “I don’t know what it is?” you confusingly say. The Russian text on it confuses you, so you hand it to Winter. “ Sour Patch Kids…” Winter reads out loud, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. “Oh, I like those!” you eagerly cheer, sitting up on your knees. You turn around and reach your hand out for him to give them to you.

They’ve wiped him. You know it, and you hate it. They’ve taken all emotion away from him, and now he’s just an empty shell of a man. His softness from just a few hours ago has now gone away, and you don’t know what to expect of himself. But then again, you never do.

Hesitatingly, he hands it over. “Don’t eat now. Sugar will keep you up,” he warns, and you nod. Your father would say the same thing when you were younger. The only difference is that your father had more love in his voice than Winter ever will. “We need to go over the rules,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You hum again, and he continues. “Do you remember your rules?” Winter asks, and you hum once more.

“Кролик,” he growls, and you look up. “Do you need me to repeat the rules?” Winter questions and you shake your head in objection. He doesn’t listen, though, because he knows you don’t remember them. You never seem to remember the big, important parts of the puzzle. Only the small corner pieces that don’t really matter. “I’ll tell you them anyway, and you’re going to listen to every word I say. Understood, кролик?” he raises his eyebrow, not leaving any room for protesting.

You gulp thickly and nod. “Don’t make any noises, don’t touch yourself, don’t talk to the guards, don’t let anyone touch you, don’t hurt yourself and don’t even think of escaping,” he lists, and the last one makes tears sting your eyes. “I won’t escape. ‘S not like I can even do anything in here,” you whisper under your breath, and he stands up. Metal fingers grip your chin tightly, and Winter slowly kneels down in front of you.

You’re watched like a pet. You always have been. Not even a pet, more like a possession. Seen as an object with no feelings and no emotions. As though you don’t have a heart that pumps crimson blood and lungs that expand with each breath you take. “Don’t ever speak like that again. I can easily stitch those pretty lips of yours shut, кролик,” he threatens, and you feel your tears beginning to leak.

No, no, no, no, no. Not now.

He laughs. He fucking laughs, and you want to cry even more because you need him. You need your support, but he doesn’t want to give it to you. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. “You’re so fucking… precious. Especially when you shed those tears of yours,” he tells you with a hidden smile behind his mask. He squeezes your jaw even tighter, and you whimper out a small ‘thank you, Master’ to him.

“I wasn’t finished listing the rules, so keep your fly shut,” Winter sneers, and you nod your head slowly. “When I get back, which will be in around three hours, you have to finish drinking all those bottles of water,” he stays, snapping his fingers to grab your attention. Your eyes follow those very same fingers as they point at the four bottles of water sitting by the bed.

You never noticed them until just now. “Oh, and you can’t go to the bathroom until I say so,” he adds with a slight humorous chuckle to his voice. Your eyeballs nearly fall out of their sockets. “Don’t worry, кролик, I’ll be back so quickly, it’ll feel like a few minutes,” he promises, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. It reminds you of when you were young, and your parents would take you to the beach.

Your parents would build sandcastles with you until they got tired. You would beg your father to piggyback you into the sea, and he would do exactly that. Your mother would carry her disposable camera with her just to take photos that would end up in the green photo album from the thrift store.

And when you got a bit older, you’d go by yourself—older in the sense that you have to start paying the bus fare of $3. You’d head to the beach after dinner and before your parents came home from work. The sky would either be a dark, dark grey or a lovely mix of pastels. The water would wash beneath your feet, pulling and loosening clumps of sand.

Taking it away the same manner Winter took your innocence.

“And remember, if you break any of these rules, I’ll know. And the outcome won’t be as pretty as your face or that pussy of yours, кролик,” Soldat warns, and you nod your head. “Yes, Master,” you shyly say to him. You want to look down at the concrete flooring so badly, but his iron-clad grip on you doesn’t loosen until a minute after your words. He looks down at you, and you look away. His strong gaze is just as powerful as the summer sun that would beat down on your skin.

“Прощай, кролик.”

You never realized how thirsty you were until just now. You’ve finished all four bottles in the span of two hours, and now you’re counting down the minutes until Soldat arrives. There are no guards standing outside your cell, so you’re all alone. Not even your intrusive thoughts have visited, and you wonder if the water was spiked.

You were never that good at telling time. It would always take you a few seconds to find the minute hand and the hour hand. But the digital clock that is on the wall across from your cell is quite helpful. It even has seconds on it, too. So you count down out loud, trying to ignore the full feeling in your stomach.

Stomping echoes down the hallways, and you don’t know if he’s close by or meters away from you. You never could tell. Russian words fall off the agents’ tongues, and sometimes you wish you could understand them. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel like such an outsider even though you’re trapped in their home. “Ты свободен, солдат,” one of the agents say, and you can hear Winter grunt.

You’re free to go, Soldat.

His big, heavy feet stomp down the hallway. The sounds bounce off the greyish-green walls, stained with different things such as blood and dirt. You can hear his metal arm whirring, and your heart jumps with fear. You’re not scared of him; you’re scared of what he’s capable of.

Oh, who are you kidding? You’re terrified of him.

The guards open up the cell door, and you look up, locking eyes with his. They’re dark and empty as they usually are. “Кролик,” he growls, and you whimper. You run up to him and hug him, feeling the water slosh inside of you. You slow your breathing down the same way your elementary school nurse told you to when you were younger and try your hardest not to throw up.

“Missed me, hm?” Winter questions and you nod meekly. Though you didn’t want to admit it two years ago, you do now. “Missed you lots, Master,” you tell him. The leather is cold against your warm skin. If you focus just a bit more, you could feel the creases of the fabric as well. But you’re too busy with him, so you ignore it. “W- Was the mission good, Master?” you nervously ask him, only out of curiosity and nothing more.

“As always. Were you good, кролик?” Soldat questions in return, rightfully so. You nod eagerly and fiddle with your fingers behind his back. He acts like he can’t feel it, just for you not to stop hugging him. “Good girl… You seem like you want something. Out with it,” he orders, and you gulp in fear.

“I… I was wondering if I could go to the bathroom,” you meekly tell Winter, looking down to the ground. His boots are shiny and polished. Cleaner than anything you’ve seen before, and it’s confusing. He usually comes in covered with dirt, sweat, tears and blood. “You need to go to the bathroom, кролик?” he asks as if he didn’t hear you beforehand.

You shyly nod and unwrap your arms from around his broad torso. You wonder if he left the mission unscathed or not. Winter chuckles. It’s breathy, airy, sly and dark. “Aw, кролик, you’re adorable, the cutest кролик of them all. It’s too bad I’m not going to let you,” he sneers in that faux fantasy tone of his. You furrow your eyebrows and so desperately want to beg him, but it’s out of line, and he never asked, so you stay quiet.

Winter grabs your hand and drags you to the cot, reminding you of the way you’d pull your parents to the shore so they can play in the water with you. They’d both laugh before your father would tackle you in the water, and your mother would push him down in retaliation. You’d always resubmerge from the water with a smile on your face and laughter bellowing throughout the beach.

You miss those times.

You let him guide you to the bed you wish wasn’t yours. “What did you do while I was gone, кролик?” Soldat questions, sitting down on the canvas of the bed. You’re placed on his lap, almost as though he’s forcing you to reclaim a throne you need. And it’s true; you need him. His hands fall to your waist, and Winter holds you in place. “I drank all the water as you asked, and I just sat here, Master,” you recount to him, leaving out the parts of the past three hours he doesn’t need to know.

He hums in the same manner as you. “That’s all?” he questions, and you slowly nod your head. “Good, I’d hate to have to punish you this late in the night,” he says, pinching the skin on your torso. You don’t whimper because you’re used to it. He calls it affection, and so do you. Winter’s hands move from your sides to the front of your stomach, caressing you with a bit of pressure being put on your bladder.

You whimper and try to play it off with a cough, but you know deep down he doesn’t buy it. Soldat continues to run his hand against your stomach the same way you’d run across the shore. Slow, wary, yet with care from the ground beneath you. You like to think of the simpler, more happier times. You know if Winter pushes a little harder, you may not be able to control yourself any longer.

The pressure in your bladder grows every few seconds, so you squirm around in his lap. Your weight shifts from his left thigh to his right thigh, over and over, and he knows exactly what’s wrong. “Кролик… Are you feeling all tingly?” he asks you. You nod your head, but you take in his words. Meanings and implications are always lost with you. They fly over your head the same way birds do, and you only see them with someone's direction.

“N- No, Master, I just have to pee really badly…” you clarify to him, and he nods his head in understanding. You smile as a spark of hope lights inside of your heart. “I don’t think you do, кролик, I already told you,” he assures, and you sigh. “I- I know, Master, I’m sorry,” you apologize and drop your head down. “I think you’re having those tingles, кролик, is your little cunt wet?” Soldat questions even though you don’t have to answer.

His hand travels between your legs and to your pussy, cupping it tightly. You whimper and involuntarily grind against his hand. “You’re absolutely soaked, кролик! Were you thinking of me?” he interrogates, and you just go with it. “Y- Yes, Master, was thinking of you all the time,” you whisper to him. He squeezes your cunt tighter and purrs in your ear. “Then why didn’t you tell me beforehand, кролик?” Winter presses, and you feel fear pump through your veins.

“I- I knew you were tired from the mission, so I didn’t want to bother you, Master. I’m sorry, please forgive me!” you plead, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. Your heart sinks to your stomach with each sound he makes, and you want death to take you right here, right now. The Soldat pushes you to the ground, and you fall with a loud ‘thud!’. Your knees hit the concrete hard, and you can feel your old scars open up a bit.

One was from a poor fall at the beach. Your father carried you home, and your mother tried to soothe you. You were only six at the time, but it felt like your world was ending.

Winter’s metal hand grabs your hair and tugs on your locks painfully. You bite back a pained moan as he yanks your head back. It’s not the first time he has nearly given you whiplash. He changes moods faster than anyone you’ve ever met. The Soldat walks around you, and you follow him with your eyes. “It’s okay, кролик. I’m not mad at you. I’m gonna treat you so well; you’re gonna love me even more,” he promises with a dark glint in his eyes.

He wedges his boot between your legs and underneath your cunt. “Get comfy, шлюха,” he orders. You shift yourself a bit, trying to alleviate any aches you feel, but it seems as though he wants you to be uncomfortable. Your pussy rests on his foot, and you wonder what he’s up to. His hand tilts your head to look up at him. You want to look away, just like when you’d look at the bright sun on a hot summer day. It was always too much to look at, but the sight was so captivating you couldn’t turn away.

“You said you wanted to go pee, right, маленькая потаскушка?” he questions, and you confusingly nod. “Then go ahead, do it,” he orders. You gasp, quite loudly, in fact. The reaction doesn’t please your Master, so he yanks on your hair a little tighter. “What’s wrong, сука? I thought that’s what you needed?” he interrogates, and you nod. “Yes, Master, but not like this,” you reason, and he growls. “I give you protection, I give you food, I give you my cum, I give you everything you need. What’s wrong now? Don’t you love me?” Winter asks.

Your heart quite literally breaks in two.

“I do, Master! I love you so much!” you promise, feeling those stupid tears of yours starting to well up. “Then why aren’t you listening to me, you dumb baby? Hm?” he presses, and panic begins to rise in your chest. The tears stream down your face the same way the waves would engulf you at the age of 7. “It’s just uncomfortable, Master, that’s all…” you reason with him. “Well, I don’t care. You’re gonna do it anyway, okay? I thought you were a good bunny for me…” Winter trails off as if he’s lost all hope and cause.

It makes you want to cry even harder.

Sniffling, you wipe your tears and try not to give up. “I am your good bunny, Master. Please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to!” you beg once again, and he grows weary of your patheticness. Winter bends down, and his flesh hand goes to the front of your flimsy shirt. Thin cotton rips away easily, with barely any strength coming from his behalf. The grey cloth is in two pieces, and he pushes them off your shoulders.

Your nipples harden as soon as the cool air brushes against them. Winter’s hand leaves your head, and you feel alone without his touch. “Seems like you forgot your place, кролик… You don’t get what you want; you get what you deserve. And what you deserve is to be put in your place,” he tells you, and your bones rattle with fear. The sound of a belt clinking and a zipping being pulled down grabs your attention, and you hold back a hearty sigh.

The Soldat stares you down as he throws his belt to the side just like he did you a few hours ago. “I can’t believe you, honestly. Думая, что ты так выше меня, пытаясь помешать мне делать то, что я хочу. After this, you’re going to regret ever talking back to me like that ever again,” he rants under his breath like the mad man he is. Your tears have dried up, but your bottom lip starts to wobble again. He huffs, tired of seeing you cry.

Winter halts his movements and goes to remove his mask, the one thing that’s been hiding that sinister smirk of his. The dark, matte material is clutched between the tips of his cut-up, bruised fingers. He carefully places the mask on your face, covering your mouth and nose. The action shuts you up, just like how he wants. You look up at him without blinking your tears away. You let them fall and soak the mask, staining it with your waterworks.

The Soldat pulls his big, thick cock out of his tactical pants. His cock is as hard as a rock, blooding pumping down to it, and his veins throb on the side of his shaft. Beads of precum drip down from his tip, rolling down his cock. He’s a raging red, desperate to be inside of you. His metal head returns to your head, and he brings you higher up in your knees. Your neck cranes at such a painful angle that the ache in your knees is ignored.

“You better fucking look at me while I teach you your lesson, шлюха,” he warns, and you listen to him easily. Through your haze of pained tears, you manage to look into his eyes. You’re not sure what he wants to do and what he’s going to do. You never do. The Soldat is unpredictable, and even in your two years of knowing him, you’ll never understand how the gears in his mind turn.

“Not so dumb after all, huh,” he chuckles before shaking his head. Winter sighs and smiles down at you. “One last chance, шлюха,” he tells you in a sing-song voice. You don’t say anything, and the Soldat clicks his tongue. Suddenly, instead of the delicious precum, he would usually make you lap up like a kitten, clear streams of warmth hit your chest. You gasp behind the mask, but it comes out as muffled nonsense to him.

“Stop!” you cry out to him, but your words are once again muffled. His pee soaks your chest as he relieves himself from the pressure in his bladder. Your hands bat at his stiff thighs, hitting them just so that he can stop humiliating you and treating you like you’re all but human. Winter growls, and his metal arm drops your head, and he slaps your hands away. His pee covers your tits and drips down your skin, staining you with disgust and humiliation.

The streams soon stop, and you’re sobbing even louder now. “Oh shut it, this isn’t even as bad of a punishment. I’m going easy on you, шлюха, I could easily do worse,” Soldat growls as the slightly tinted liquid drips from the tip and onto the ground. Your chest stutters with sobs, and you can barely breathe. You’re covered and coated like a freshly bought canvas, and Winter’s just ruined you. Almost in the same manner that you’d destroy your father’s canvas with your cheap, dollar store paint.

Winter bends down and grabs what was once your shirt and is now just a piece of cloth. Kind of like how your mother would give you any leftover scraps of fabric to make something for you. She’d never let anything go to waste. He uses it to wipe the drops of urine that still drip from his cock, and then he throws it at you like you mean nothing to him. You let it fall to the ground because there’s no possible way a piece of cloth that was once on your back can fix your honour.

But who are you kidding? You lost your honour the moment you gave into the Soldat, just like you always do.

You stretch your arms out to him, silently pleading for comfort from him. But he shakes his head with a sly smile on his face. “Aw, you want your Master to help you out, мой питомец?” Winter questions, and you eagerly nod your head. His metal hand goes to remove the mask, but he stops as soon as he touches it. “Say please,” he orders with faux sympathy in his voice. “Please, Master,” you beg to him, and he smiles.

Winter places his hand back on the mask and yanks it off of your face. The sides scratch your cheeks a bit, but that’s not what matters. “T- Thank you, Master. I love you so much,” you tell him before struggling to put a smile on your face. At the end of the day, no matter how brutal he is with you, you’ll always love him. ...Right? “You’re welcome, кролик,” he says as he throws the mask to where his belt lies.

Your cheeks are sticky and stained with tears, much like your chest. Winter’s flesh hand cups your left cheeky lightly, and he’s back to being the gentleman who has killed for you on numerous occasions. He wipes away the wetness on your cheek as his other hand goes to his cock, grabbing the base of it. “Say ‘ah,’ моя маленькая шлюшка,” he orders before you can even register his signature Cheshire smirk.

His cock is shoved inside your mouth without any warning. He always does that. No heads up, no preparation, nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Winter wiggles his foot that’s underneath your cunt, and the sudden friction is startling. He calls you bunny because of this reason. You can get off on anything, and you’re always needy for him. “I can see how wet you are, шлюха. You’re soaking my boot with that little pussy of yours,” he coos.

You don’t realize how wet you are until he points it out. You’re absolutely soaking, and you’re not sure why. But for the utmost incomprehensible reason ever, you don’t care.

His cock slides down your throat until your nose nuzzles against his pubic bone. His balls touch your chin, and your saliva coats his cock thickly. Your throat and side of your kissable mouth both hurt horribly, but you ignore the pain just for him. “You’re my good little bunny, right?” he questions, and you nod while his cock rests on your tongue. “And good little bunnies like you always listen to their Masters, right?” Winter asks, and you nod again.

He smiles. His hand on your cheeks moves to the back of your head slowly, returning to its newfound home. “I bet you want to come, don’t you, кролик?” he interrogates, and he’s not wrong. You really do want to come, and you’re a bit ashamed of it. “Master will let you come, don’t worry. I’m gonna let you have cummies, кролик,” he promises, and you happily giggle around his cock.

“Go on, hump my boot like the little bunny you are,” he pushes, and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. You want to protest so badly, but the memories of what he just did to you freshly flood your mind like the memories from when you were younger. “Are you that stupid that I have to explain how to get yourself off? Or are you just not listening to me, кролик?” he asks in a tone that reminds you of subdued thunder.

You shake your hand and try to move your hips around a bit. Your soaking wet pussy grinds against the leather of Winter’s shoe, and your clit throbs at the feeling. Winter’s cock slides out of your mouth until the fat tip of it is all that’s left, and then he quickly shoves it back in. Your loud gags and his moans fill the room like music. Your loss of oxygen makes you see stars, and you can recall how much your father loved to paint the midnight skies until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

Your old toothbrushes would serve as the home of the clouds of dust that the stars would be born from. His fingers would be covered in white paint that would fall off in the water and swirl down the sink. His black t-shirts would have white freckles on them, and your mother would always suggest for him to turn the cloth into a galaxy. He’d always tell her one day, and you’d always remind him of that day whenever you’d catch him painting.

“Fuck, you always do look even prettier with my cock in your mouth, кролик,” he swears, and you smile around his cock. Oh, well, you at least try to smile. You continue to rub yourself against his boot as he uses your throat as he pleases. Your hole drools with want, and your slick gives his shoe a shine that is unmatched by any other substance. The burning, fiery feeling on your clit spreads to your abdomen, and you can feel yourself being brought closer to the edge.

You’re moaning around his thick cock, sending sinful vibrations throughout him. “Fuck, are you gonna come, кролик?” he questions as he feels you hug his leg. You nod around his cock, and he begins to push your head back and forth of his cock, matching your desperate movements. He uses you like a fleshlight, and you’re used to it. “Well, too fucking bad, шлюха, you’re not allowed to come,” he spits, and your hips freeze in place.

“I didn’t say stop, did I? No, I didn’t, continue, шлюха,” he sneers, and you listen to the Soldat. You’re not sure how you’re going to stave off your orgasm, but you’ll do anything for him. You slowly begin to grind your hips back and forth on his boot again, trying to slow your breathing down, and Winter fucks your face sloppily. “Fuck, you want my cum, don’t you, кролик?” he questions, and you squeeze his leg tighter.

Winter pulls his cock out abruptly and pinches the base, staving off his release only for a few seconds. “I said, don’t you want my cum, шлюха?” he asks once again, and you nod. Saliva coats your mouth, and you can barely catch your breath. “I- I really want your cum, Master, please! Please give me your cum,” you plead to him with a ditzy look in your eyes. You wiggle your hips side to side just to give off the impression that you’re getting yourself off.

But you can’t fool the fooler. Nobody can.

“I’m going to give you all my cum, шлюха, and you’re going to take it all like a good girl,” he moans as he shoves his cock back into your mouth. Winter shoves himself deep inside your throat until you can’t take any more of his length. You swallow around his cock, and he moans loudly, swearing in Russian. The words roll off his tongue skillfully, and you feel yourself getting even wetter.

He grabs your head even tighter and bobs your skull up and down his cock a few more times before finally hitting his release. His balls tighten up, and a deep, throaty moan leaves his mouth in the best way ever. Hot, sticky ropes spurt down your throat before you can even register the way he throws his head back. Winter’s long hair spills on the sides of his head as his cum spills down your throat. You have no choice but to swallow, but it’s not like you want to spit his seed out anyways.

Winter lets out a deep moan that goes straight to your core, and his hand pats your head in a praising manner. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl,” he praises as he slowly pulls his sensitive cock out of your mouth. Your cunt flutters with sensitivity, and you want to come so badly, but you just can’t. The Soldat takes a few steps back, slipping his foot away from your aching pussy. You let out a whimper, and he smiles.

“I’m not done with you, маленький кролик,” he tells you, and your heart flutters. You’ve managed to ignore the building pressure in your bladder, but now it seems to come back stronger. “C- Can I go pee first, Master?” you politely ask him, still on your knees. Even that ache has returned, but it’s the least important thing as of now. He ignores your question as he works on the numerous straps on his battle uniform.

Skillful fingers take off the leather vest he wears, revealing a bulletproof protectant that saves him from certain dangers. “Get on the bed, кролик,” Winter orders as he continues to strip himself. You begin to stand up on your wobbly, scarred legs, but he tuts. “Uh uh, not like that,” he interjects, walking back to you. He pushes you back onto the floor, and you fall with a sob. “On your knees, because that’s what you deserve. Nothing more, шлюха,” he sneers, and you sniffle.

You slowly crawl to the bed. Each time your knees touch the ground, you burn up with both arousal and humiliation. And it’s not like the action is making your need to go to the bathroom any better. The abrupt movement makes the liquid slosh inside you, and you want to burst out in tears, begging Winter to just let you relieve yourself. Your hands have slight scars from your nails, and it reminds you of when your father would encourage you to do the monkey bars.

You’d always try to swing yourself to the end with all your might. But you never could do it. You’d fall down to the ground and leave the park wailing. The scars and blisters on your hand would make your parents so upset, but that never stopped you from wanting to go back and try again. Eventually, you got too old to try, and it would always upset you. Maybe one day you’ll be able to try again— one day.

You hear zippers unzipping and velcro cracking behind you as you get on the bed. The coolness of the sheets is so refreshing against your hot skin. It soothes you for a few seconds, but it eventually loses its worth. You turn around and face him with a sort of dumbfounded look on your face. He fucking loves it; Winter always does. He’s naked, fully naked, and even his signature tactical boots have been discarded.

If you squint, you could see the way your wetness shines on his boot. “Good girl, such as good little bunny,” he praises, and you can feel yourself get flustered. Winter climbs onto the bed, staring you dead in the eyes. He kneels in front of you with a wicked smirk, and he brings his flesh hand up to your throat. You let out a gasp as he squeezes your neck tightly before he leans in closer to you.

The Soldat’s face is just a mere few centimetres away from yours. You can feel each breath that he takes against your skin. His hard cock rests against your sticky chest, and he’s still hard as fuck. “Open your mouth, кролик,” he orders, and you instantly do so. You wait for his cock to be stuffed in your mouth once again, but it never comes. You watch as he puckers his lips up before spitting right by your mouth.

You choke in surprise as his saliva slowly drips into your mouth, landing on your sore tongue. You whimper at the feeling, and Winter has a proud smile on his face. He pulls his head away from yours, in the same manner your father would whenever he’d finish one of his masterpieces. “Swallow it all, кролик, I know you want to,” he orders in a sing-song voice.

You follow his demand obediently. You can’t lie; the sheer act of him spitting in your mouth and forcing you to swallow it makes you even wetter. You’d take anything he gives you. “You’re such a good girl, you know that right?” he questions, and your chest heaves. Winter’s cock twitches against you, and you so desperately want him inside you. But there’s nothing you want more than to go relieve yourself.

His metal hand comes up to your face, and you think he’s going to lovingly hold you. You absolutely adore it when he strokes your cheeks. The Soldat’s thumb touches the soft yet slightly sweaty skin of your face and moves back and forth. Chills run down your spine, and you smile into his touch. He suddenly pulls his hand away, and he strikes you roughly. You let out a cry as your skin stings and prickles from the hit.

He does it again and again until your tears soak his hand. Your cheek is practically numb from the pain. You can feel his cock leaking with cum, and you know that he’s going to fuck you, just like you want him to. “Did you forget your manners?” Winter harshly questions, and you quickly shake your head. “T- Thank you, Master,” you whisper to him, and he smiles.

“Master… Can I please go to the bathroom? Please, it hurts,” you beg to him, but he just shakes his head. “P- Please, Master? I’ll be a good girl, I promise!” you plead to him as your tears run down your face even quicker. He ignores your cries for relief, and he instead slams you onto the bed. Your mind is a mess as he combs on top of you, and the aches you have only get stronger.

The hand that was slapping some sense into you finds a new home on your stomach, right above your swollen bladder. He pushes down on your stomach slightly, and you kick your legs. “Shh, none of that, no, stop it,” he shushes, and you try your hardest to not let go right there and then. “Master knows what you need, okay? And right now, you need my cock, маленький кролик,” he tells you, and you sob.

The hand on your throat moves to his cock, and he grabs his thick base. The veins on the side throb with need, and in one thrust, he bottoms out inside you. You barely have the time to register what’s just happened. The painful stretch of his cock radiates throughout your core, and you dig your nails into the scarred skin of your palms. His tip nudges against your g-spot, and you coat his cock with your wetness.

Winter is buried inside you to the hilt, filling you up to the brim. His swollen, heavy balls rest against your ass, and you both try to get used to the connection. The painful stretch dulls down to an exquisite pleasure, and Winter loves the way your tight cunt gets used to his thick cock. He’s splitting you in two, but he simply does not care. His hand returns back to your throat, and this time, he squeezes the sides of your neck even tighter.

Winter pulls his cock out until his fat tip is the only thing resting inside of your pussy. He slams back into you roughly, and you let out a cry. Your jaw falls slack as the Soldat begins to fuck into your relentlessly. His balls slap against your ass, and your loud, short-lived moans fill the cell that you’ve grown to love. “Fucking hell, кролик, your pussy feels so good,” he growls, slamming into you even harder.

Your tits bounce with every movement he makes. The pleasure sears through your body as Winter hammers against your poor g-spot with each thrust he makes. “Master, please, I need to go really badly,” you beg to him as he continues to fuck you. He shakes his head in objection before pushing down on your stomach even harder. You let out a wail and try to squirm away, but you only worsen things for yourself.

“No, you don’t, кролик. The only thing you need is my cock,” the Soldat tells you, and you upsettingly toss your head back. “No, Master, please, I don’t wanna make a mess,” you reason with him, but he just doesn't seem to want to listen. “I know that, кролик, but you need to listen to me, okay? You don’t need to go; you just need me,” he growls lowly, and you can feel him pushing harder on your bladder.

“No- Wait, Master, please stop pushing on me,” you implore to him as a moan follows your words. Your silky, wet cunt hugs his cock as the tingly feeling in your bladder becomes stronger. You want to cross your legs and stop it from growing, but you can’t. Pressure builds up in your core, and you’re not sure if you’re going to come or if you’re going to make a mess and humiliate yourself.

“Let go, мой тупой р��бенок, I know you want to so badly. You can make a mess, do it,” Winter urges, and you shake your head. “No, Master, please stop it,” you cry to him, but he only fucks you harder. One specific thrust hits your cervix, and you yell out in pain before even realizing what’s happened. Warmth trickles down your thighs and onto his cock. You let out a wail as humiliation blossoms from your soul.

Though there’s nobody else watching, you’re still embarrassed. And that wicked smirk on Winter’s face does nothing to help you out. The sound of it makes your back sweat, and you want the ground to open up and take you home. Your urine wets the sheets beneath you, and your tears wet your face. “God, look at you. You finally got what you wanted, and here you are, crying like a fucking brat. You’re so ungrateful. Do you even deserve my cum?” he questions with disgust on his tongue.

You struggle to nod, but you do it anyway. The last thing you need is to have your Master upset with you. “‘M sorry, Master, please forgive me,” you plead to him. You continue to relieve yourself, and he continues to fuck you despite the mess you’re making in his shaft. “Такой грязный, глупый малыш. Ты такой жалкий, ты же знаешь это, да?” he questions even though you only know one simple word of Russian. You moan loudly as you slowly stop making a mess and begin to feel your orgasm building up.

“Aw, are you gonna come, кролик?” Winter asks you in a condescending tone, one that makes you even wetter. The lewd sounds that come from your pussy as just as humiliating as what you’ve just done, but you don’t care. You’re too busy getting fucked stupid. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pussy up with my cum; watch it leak out of you. You always do look prettier when you’re filled up with my cum,” he moans as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“Master, ‘m gonna c- come,” you whimper to him, laying in your own piss. “Go ahead, шлюха, come on my cock. You already made a mess on me twice, might as well do it for the third time,” Winter growls, moving the hand that lays on your stomach. He grabs your hips roughly and pulls you closer towards his cock. Hot flames lick at your abdomen as you hit your climax, seeing stars in your vision.

Your reality is warped as you can barely make out the look on Winter’s face. Darkness takes over your vision in the same manner as the clouds would take over the skies on those hot summer days. They would hide the pretty sun for a few minutes, and then they’d leave eventually. Your pussy clamps down on his cock tightly as you coat him with your juices, making him moan.

You wail loudly as you clench around him, making him groan. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” he asks without waiting for an answer. You nod as he fucks you through your orgasm, not even caring about how overstimulated you are. His cock slips in and out of you with ease and his thrusts begin to grow sloppy. “Tell me how much you want my cum,” he demands, fucking you even slower.

“I- I want your cum really badly, Master. I need it so badly; please fill me up with your cum!” you politely beg to you as you come down from your much-needed high. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so nicely, кролик, you’re gonna beg me to fuck you again,” Winter husks as his balls tighten up. A string of Russian words leave his mouth, and you have to assume that it’s all foul language.

Warm, white ropes of cum paint your walls as he pushes deep inside your cunt while coming. Winter’s blue eyes squeeze shut, and you both moan at the feeling. He fills you up just like he promised, and you bite down on your lips. Everything has dried, and you feel disgusted, so you try to focus on the way his cum pumps inside you. His cock stays inside you, but he doesn’t soften at all, and you know what that means. Winter falls on top of your sticky chest with a sigh, and tears sting your eyes.

Though he says you need him, you wonder if that’s really true.

[onlyswan]

meet me behind the mall | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader

→ genre: smut sigh, fluff kinda

→ warnings: exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, slight ? degredation, calls her a slut once, fingering, handjob, oral (m. and f. receiving), choking, spitting, cum eating / swallowing, unprotected sex, facial (this term is so 😭) lmk if i miss anything plz

→ word count: 3.3k

summary: jungkook makes you live for the thrill of it all.

note: this was an impulsive write idk what possessed me today frends but have at it >_> semi proofread it’s 5am goodbyr

—

it’s one of the things you first learned about him. jungkook loves taking photos. he loves capturing moments with a simple click of a camera. he finds an unexplainable comfort and bittersweet nostalgia in finding old photographs in his drawer, in his pockets, tucked in between the pages of his textbooks. it’s like finding little treasures all over the place, you can hear his voice in your head, can see the pretty twinkles of passion and fondness in his pretty doe eyes.

so when he told you all about the new photobooth at the arcade, followed by a text that simply said meet me behind the mall, you didn’t particularly imagine that you would end up in this position. you can see the shutter going off even though your eyelids are closed as jungkook’s tongue is basically shoved down your throat. your panties is pulled to the side and two of his fingers are thrusting in and out of your cunt, curling deliciously to stimulate your sweet spot that has your thighs shaking uncontrollably every fucking time.

how naive of you to think that your boyfriend spontaneously texted you at eight in the evening to meet up and simply take cute couple pictures in film. of course, you do have a fair share of scandalous photos, but they’re all conveniently stored and locked away in your phones. this is something entirely new and as embarrassing it is to admit, thrilling. yourself from one year ago never would’ve guessed what her future self is doing right now. how the desires in you can easily be fueled to life just by the trailing of jungkook’s fingers on the smoothness of your thighs, his lips nipping at your neck, or even the simple thought of having his cock filling you up to the brim.

you can’t help but to giggle against his mouth. all of your senses are heightened at this moment, your heart beating aggressively in your chest. he pulls away slightly but his gaze stays on your pink and swollen parted lips, drunk eyes taking in your disheveled state.

“what’s going in that pretty little mind of yours?” he smirks, thumb sneakily rubbing your clit. you try your best to hold out your moan but a broken whine comes out, your head throwing back against the wall of the limited space you’re both squeezed into. only a black curtain and an ‘occupied’ sign in red bold and capital letters separated you from the world outside, where games are being played by people of all ages; loud sound effects and songs from the 2000’s and 2010’s mixing into an ear numbing noise that can only be recognized from an arcade center; and tickets gathered are being exchanged for cute stationary items and trinkets.

“you’re so, so dirty.” you say to him, eyes rolling back as his fingers never let up on their toe curling pace, only making you lose your inhibitions and self-control more than anything else. you clench around them involuntarily, drenching his hand with your juices. “was this your plan all along?”

your eyes widen in shock when the sound of his palm slapping your bare cunt filled the booth, the stinging pain registering in your mind next. “are you fucking crazy? someone might hear!” you whisper angrily at him, but his dark and blown out eyes made you shrink back in your seat. his intimidating, and almost condescending, expression have you gushing against his hand that is now petting your pussy to soothe the pain he inflicted.

“watch your mouth. you and this fucking skimpy dress are the only ones dirty here. you know what this shit does to me.” he smiles at you sweetly. “are you sure this was my plan? are we playing mind games here, baby girl?” his hand comes down from your face to play with the cloth of your blue dress, the other thrusting two of his fingers in you again, then adding another. the stretch has you gripping tightly on his shirt, not having anything else to hold on to.

“fuck, ahhh- jungkook. don’t stop.” god, you are dripping all over, your wetness staining your seat. it makes your cheeks flush in shame.

“just wanted to look pretty for you, i-is all.” you mewl at him, blinking innocently. the camera is not forgotten by jungkook. in fact, it’s one of the things getting him more riled up. the almost blinding light of the flash shines on your soft skin, and the sweat that has formed on your temples and your neck. your pupils are blown and eyelids drooping caused by the pleasure he is giving you. it’s visible how difficult it is for you to keep in all your noises from the people outside the damn curtain when you’re so lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of you. all because of him. your fucked out state got jungkook gritting his teeth, his dick twitching inside his pants. jesus christ, you get him so fucking turned on and desperate for it without even trying. your beauty is seductive and enchanting and effortless. there is no point in hiding how crazy he is for you.

“my pretty girl. you dressed yourself all nice for me?” he presses a chaste kiss on your lips, before he wraps his hand around your throat, pressing at the right places just enough to make your mind all fuzzy. “i’m such a lucky man. i love you so much.”

your eyes roll back at the back of your head at the all consuming feeling taking over senses. you don’t think you can answer correctly if ever someone asks for your name or the colors of the goddamn traffic signs. “y-yeah, for you, of course. love you so much.”

he gives you a satisfied hum, moving down to squeeze one of your breasts with his large hand before pinching your nipple from outside the cotton of your dress. “mhmm, holy fuck. you’re always so sensitive. so easy to please. am i making you feel good?” you don’t know how he can act so casual while you’re basically falling apart in his hands, but for some sick reason, it stirs up the arousal in your belly even more.

“y-yes, kook, i’m so close, please, please, please,” you cry out desperately, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you squeeze his fingers with your walls uncontrollably. “wait, ohhh, stop. stop. i can’t cum here. i- it’s gonna be a mess, this is so embar- fuck, jungkook!” your squeal dies down in your throat when your boyfriend kneels on the ground and starts sucking your clit in his mouth as his fingers inside of you became more aggressive, hitting all the right places that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your desperate and whiny sounds, suddenly becoming aware of where the two of you are right now.

you grip his hair with your hands to steady yourself and unconsciously grind your cunt against his face, his eager tongue doing very sinful things for the sole purpose of making you come undone. he pulls you closer to the edge with his strong arm so he can have better access, eating you out like a man feasting on the divine food of the gods. divine. that’s one perfect word to describe you.

he flicks your clit teasingly before wrapping his pink and plump lips around it again. the overwhelming sight almost makes you want to burst into tears. “hmm, cum for me, baby.” your body jerks in his hold, his words of permission acting as the trigger for your orgasm. he drinks you up greedily, his tongue replacing his fingers’ place in fucking into you, letting you ride out your high.

he comes up to kiss you, making you taste yourself in his mouth. you can even feel his wet chin. you moan against him when two fingers dip inside you again, and then he’s having you suck on them almost too enthusiastically. you’re still in a daze from your release, and with jungkook, you’re basically down for anything and everything. you open your eyes to meet his, and if you aren’t already fucked out with his fingers choking you, his hooded eyes will have reduced you into a blabbering mess.

“you’re always so good to me.” he says with a raspy voice. he takes out his fingers and wipes it on his shirt before pulling you in for another kiss. “let’s get out of here so i can fuck you properly like my girl deserves, okay?” you nod meekly, trying to hide your excitement. he fixes you up to make you look presentable enough to walk in public, combing your hair with his fingers and straightening out your dress.

“can’t forget these. don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. it’s for my eyes only.” he gathers all the developed films from the booth, facing you with a teasing smile.

“for your eyes only.” you agree, looking up at him. you open the small backpack you brought along with you and he stuffs them all inside mindlessly, his cock still straining painfully in his pants and he might just lose his mind if he’s still not inside of your pussy in the next five minutes.

“can’t walk properly,” you whine out once you step out of the booth, your boyfriend supporting you by the waist.

“sorry, baby.” he presses an apologetic kiss on your temple. “but i’m not done with you yet.” he really doesn’t give a fuck if anyone heard the both of you at all, but he knows that you’re starting to worry, so he makes sure that you keep your eyes on him as you walk your way out of the place.

“are we going to your place? or mine?” you ask once you get out, the cool air of the mall embracing you. you shiver lightly. your boyfriend doesn’t respond, but when he starts dragging you towards the movie theater that is just beside the arcade, you realize the answer to your question.

“jungkook, really?” you hiss at him, but don’t make any efforts to stop him as he leads you to the restrooms.

“i’m so fucking hard right now, babe. i can’t wait anymore.” they’re about to close up in an hour, so the place is basically deserted. but still, you can’t believe what you’re about to do right now. he peeks in the women’s and once he made sure it’s clear, you go in to the farthest cubicle.

“damn woman,” his throaty chuckle makes your center throb again as you immediately pull down his sweatpants along with his boxers, his big cock slapping against his stomach. you lick a stripe from his balls up to his tip, then gathering saliva in your mouth and letting it drip down his length. his breathing gets heavier at the sight of doing such a filthy action without him asking you to. he strokes your cheek as you jack him off and give his head kitten licks, your spit acting as an effective lube.

“put it in your mouth now, baby.” he says softly, grasping your hair to guide your mouth on his cock. “choke on it, yeah?” you hum in submission to his request, relaxing your throat to take in as much of him as you can. you start to bob your head up and down to get used to the feeling, your hand still wrapped around the few inches left.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this. i’ve been thinking about it all day.” his confession made you all warm inside. you’ve always wondered how you managed to become his girlfriend. sometimes, it feels to good to be true. knowing the effect you have on him even when you’re not around made you even more determined to blow his damn mind. to be the only star of his wildest dreams.

you go down on him until your nose reach his pubic area, carefully breathing out through it. “oh my god, that’s my girl.” he thrusts his hip forward and holds your head down in place, making you choke on him like he wanted to. his moans sends tingles to your pussy and you rub your thighs together in a pitiful attempt to relieve yourself of some pressure. he lets you breathe in some air before you take him in your mouth again, swallowing around his length as you move your head up and down.

“ohhh, fuck. your mouth is s-so warm. you like this huh? sucking me off outside our rooms for the first time?” he can’t help but to move his hips as well, instinctively following your mouth. your moans vibrate on his dick, and he hisses at the added sensation. “and you called me what? so, so dirty? turns out you’re just as fucking filthy, baby.” and there it is again, the mischievous smile on his face that makes your knees (that you’re sure will be bruising soon enough) weak. you know that he’s right. you can’t help but to whimper around him when you feel wetness drip from your hole. you want to touch yourself so bad but your hands on your boyfriend’s flexing muscular thighs are what’s keeping you steady and grounded.

“ohh- ah, fuck fuck fuck! are you fucking kidding me?” his body jerks when you take all of him and stay still, contracting your throat around him and massaging his balls in your small and soft hand. his brain goes on a frenzy at the waves of pleasure rippling in his body, sweat rolling down his temples and abdomen working hard to stop himself from cumming down your throat. “s-shit, stop it, stop it, stop, i’m gonna blow my load.”

you pull him out with a pop, hand gripping his base to keep his orgasm at bay. his glassy eyes meet your own, and you give him a wink. “are you gonna fuck me now?”

a shiver runs up jungkook’s spine. “you’re so fucking hot. come here.” he helps you get up and snakes his tongue in your mouth, pinning you on the other side of the cubicle. his hand sneaks in under your dress to cup your center, groaning against your mouth when he felt how wet you are. “shit, you’re soaking. did you get this turned on by sucking my dick?”

“really turned on. i love blowing you.” you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger, blinking up at him with a smile.

“you’re actually killing me here.” he chuckles, squeezing your ass and pulling you close to grind himself on you. he drags down your panties until you step out of them, throwing it on top of your backpack. he tucks your hair behind your ear and whispers. “jump.” you obey, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he pumps his cock a few times before teasingly running the tip along your wet folds, a nudge on your clif making you moan quietly. “put it in, please. jungkook? i’ve been good, right?”

“shhh, i got you.”

you hold on to his neck tightly as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure. it’s amazing how you can feel so stretched out from the very beginning, only his tip yet breaching your walls. you never really got used to it. “you’re so big, kook.” you cry out against his shoulder as he sinks his entire length into you. your praise inflates his ego. he lets you adjust for a moment, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder.

when you gave him the signal, he begins thrusting into you, gradually picking up to a rough and unforgiving pace he knows you like. the lewd squelching sounds of your connected sex filled the empty room.

“sh-should’ve done this sooner. ahh fuck, why does this feel so good?” you’re out of your mind. you can’t remember a time you felt this horny. and to be brutally honest, he’s fucking you dumb right now. you can feel every ridge of his cock in you, can feel his tip furiously and consistently stimulating the spot in you that has you writhing in his arms, that along with his pelvis grinding against your clit each time he fucks back into you.

“jesus, are you hearing yourself right now? you like doing it outside with me, baby?”

“yes, yes! oh, harder, please. m-more, i’m close again.” you sob out, biting on his shoulder to cover your cries.

“can’t believe i got myself a filthy little slut here.” he shakes his head in mock disbelief, adjusting his hold on you and fucking you with a much fiercer drive to make you cream on his cock this time. “f-fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” he breathes out a laugh followed by a broken moan, your soft walls enveloping him in your wamth. “cum when you need to, hmm? you’ve been so good to me.”

you mutter countless thank you’s mixed with your moans and whimpers, the pleasure getting too much to bear. you throw your head back as you orgasm on your boyfriend’s cock, clenching around him uncontrollably as he fucks you through it, desperate to reach his own high. your juices drip down to his balls, and it makes him crazier. he takes the opportunity create marks on your neck, sucking and biting red and purple on your skin.

it’s not long before overstimulation takes place, but you don’t complain, not when it feels this good. another orgasm hits you, not as intense as the first two, but it still got you seeing stars and your body shaking against the wall.

“did you just cum again? oh god, fucking shit. i’m there- so fucking close. you feel so- oh, so good. love you. love you a lot.”

“i want to swallow your cum.” your voice is barely there, but jungkook hears you just fine. he almost chokes on his own spit upon registering your words in his brain. without wasting any time, he sets you down on the floor and you kneel infront of him, mouth open and tongue out.

he jacks himself off while you generously lick at his frenulum, looking up at him expectantly. the sight of you all eager and impatient for his cum finally triggers his release, aiming for your tongue but some still landing on your cheeks and chin as he’s too overwhelmed and shaken to see straight. you swallow happily, licking the rest from your fingers.

“god, i love you.” he says quietly, pulling you up from the floor and embracing you, but you wiggle out of his grasp.

“love you too but gross, gross, gross. i need to go home and shower.” you whine out, twirling as you try and fix your appearance again.

“not you acting like a brat once you got what you wanted.” he pinches your waist jokingly. he takes tissue from the dispenser to clean up the wetness that dripped down all the way to your thighs, being the loving boyfriend that he is.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you pout at him. “i’m so tired and gross. i hate you.”

“are you asking for it again?”

“no, i swear to god. you owe me a bubble bath and a massage.”

“okay, fine. my place then.” he gives up, shaking his head with a laugh at your change of mood. “i love you. can i get a kiss then?”

you tiptoe to reach him, slightly pulling him down by the collar of his shirt to give him a smooch. “i love youuu.”

once you both make yourself presentable (again) to the best of your abilities, you head out of the restroom first. you notice the cashier at the popcorn place eyeing you suspiciously, especially when jungkook comes out to meet you a few minutes later. you hide yourself behind him in shame.

you walk out of the mall with his hand over your shoulder, yours on his waist. you look at him questioningly when he covers your neck with more of your hair. “maybe i made a little too much.” he winces apologetically.

“we are never doing that again.” you sigh, your legs still feeling weak but you will yourself to make it all the way to the parking lot.

“what? you said you liked it!”

“it was during the moment. i was delirious.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “you’re lying. let’s see, because that’s also what you said the first time we tried choking.”

“jungkook! shut up!”

—

note: i never know how to finish these runs and hides

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sugar, Sugar 15

[FIFTEEN/END]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, violence, mean sugary Steve

This is a dark! sugar daddy! Steve fic. Obvious AU so please keep that in mind. :) That being said, it will be an explicit fic (18+) with noncon. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

(This chapter: violence, threats, fear  :O)

Series Summary: The reader is struggling in the big city but find opportunity before her. Will she take it?

This Chapter: The wedding day approaches but not everything goes to plan.

Author Notes: So this is another series wrapped up after a grueling two years, haha. Sorry y’all.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

🍭 🍭 🍭

The floor length mirror was trimmed with twisted gold. You stared at your reflection as your shaky hands pressed against the front of the ivory dress. The cut hid the small bump but you could not forget it. Ever since you confessed, it all happened so fast; the wedding was pushed up, the dress tailored and expedited, and invitations sent out in a rush.

It all felt surreal. The day had come but you just couldn’t accept it. How could you go through those doors and smile through it all?

You closed your eyes and let your breath out. They would knock when it was your time. Your father would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. The guests waited eagerly for the most talked about ceremony in the city. And you still felt like just a footnote in your own wedding.

You moved away from the mirror and sat unsteadily, gripping the arms of the cushioned chair, careful not to catch your veil under you. That night you told him, that was the final straw. But you didn’t forget what Sasha said. You took a picture of the broken door and wrote down the entire scene. You sent it to yourself in an email as proof.

That wasn’t the last time. You recorded Steve one day when he came in as you were texting your sister about the new date. You hadn’t answered his last message about your first appointment with the doctor. He was livid and you sat and listened to him rant as the red dots pulsed. You wrote down every instance, every time he made you appease him, every terrifying word.

Then there were the police reports. Nothing more than words in a filing cabinet but the night he choked you was just the beginning. He threatened to break your finger when you took your ring off because your hands were swelling. Then he broke your laptop when you didn’t pay him enough attention. 

As the wedding loomed closer, he only seemed to get worse. He was clingy, always touching you, marveling over your stomach. He checked in almost every hour on the hour when he was working, and you weren’t stupid enough not to notice that the building was being watched.

It was like you were living two lives and yet you were entirely trapped with him. What good could the emails do? Or the reports when the police wouldn’t act on them? You were going to marry this man and that would be the end of it; of you, of your life.

Knuckles tapped on the door and you stood. You crossed the room and inched it open the door. You flinched as you were met by an unexpected and uninvited guest.

“Sasha?” you gasped.

“You’re marrying him then?” he held the handle but you didn’t try to close the door, “the account gone, I heard nothing from you.”

“I… I’m scared,” you admitted, “when he found out, I thought he was going to--” you shook your head. He wouldn’t actually kill you.

“You know it’s not too late,” Sasha urged.

“You can’t be here, it he finds out, he’ll--”

“I’ll defend myself,” Sasha snarled uncharacteristically, “I’ll give him what he deserves.’

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to go,” you begged as you glanced past him furtively.

“I will. Come with me,” he said, “just go. Everyone’s distracted, they won’t know--”

“I can’t just leave. You don’t understand--”

“No, you don’t understand,” he argued, “if you marry him, it all gets so much more complicated. I told you that day at the café. It will be harder to fight after the vows, but right now, you can still get out.”

“And go where?”

He swallowed and looked down the hall. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd.

“Did you do any of it? Keep a journal? Something?” he asked.

“I tried. I went to the police but nothing,” you sniffed and gripped the door tight.

“Nothing yet but that’s a start,” he chewed the inside of his lip.

“Why are you here? Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I can do something,” he hissed, “because I can’t live with it if I don’t. So come on. Come with me, I got a bigger place. It’ll have to do for now and then we’ll work on getting you standing, getting the baby somewhere to grow--”

“Am I trading him for you?”

“I’m your friend,” he said evenly, “that will never change. All I want is you safe. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the hall. You can lock me out and I’ll sleep against the door. But I came down here knowing I wouldn’t leave without you.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy but--”

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand and pushed the door open, “please, don’t go with him. It doesn’t end well. You don’t get out. It doesn’t get better.”

“I have nothing,” you quavered.

“You have me,” he said, “please don’t make me walk out of here alone.”

“I….” you uttered as your heart squeezed. “He’ll come after you.”

“Good, I want him to,” he clung to you, “please?”

You inhaled and heard the voices. Your father and your sister. You had no time to think but you knew it was your only chance.

“Let’s go,” you lifted your skirt and pulled the door shut behind you as you stepped out, “now.”

He held onto your hand as you rushed away from the voices and skirted around the corner. Sasha urged you on down the back stairs and through the maze like halls of the extravagant church. You nearly tumbled down the stairs and he caught you as you came along the narrow passage beside the main room, the guests and groom just on the other side of the wall.

You came out into the sunlight and Sasha lifted the train of your skirts as he directed you over the grass. our heels sank into the dirt as you rushed over and the organ began to play Here Comes the Bride. As he helped stuff the swathes of fabric in behind you in his modest car, the music stopped suddenly.

He closed the door as you were squished in the back seat amid your layered skirts and he got in the front. The engine turned and he nearly side swept another car as he pulled out without looking. You peeked back behind you but saw no one coming down the large steps of the church.

He turned the corner and sidled in behind a yellow cab. He looked at you in the mirror and nodded. You bit your lips nervously as reality sank in. Your chest hammered and your entire body buzzed with adrenaline. You knew it was only the beginning.

🍭

The day passed in a daze. You sat in your wedding dress waiting for all hell to break loose. Sasha sat with a beer, silently, and tapped his foot endlessly. When the silence was too much, he turned on the television but neither of you paid any attention to the old sitcom.

When the trance of disbelief dissipated, he showed you around his spacious loft. He was being paid well by Stark but you worried how long he would stay on the payroll after what he’d done. Steve wasn’t stupid and there were more photographers at the church then you’d seen collectively over the last year and a half.

“This is the second bedroom,” he showed you into a room with gleaming windows. There was a bed, a dresser, curtains, a cozy rug, all carefully selected, “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

Your eyes lingered on the box leaned against the far wall. A crib.

“Didn’t know how long…” his voice trailed off as he followed your eye line, “I’m not trying to be him. You can go anytime but I… you have a place here.”

Your eyes welled and you blotted them with your knuckles, the rough lace of your gloves scratching your cheeks, “you did all this for me?”

“I told you, I’d do anything,” he said.

“But… Sasha, I don’t--”

“I don’t expect anything from you. High school was a long time ago but you made it bearable for the biggest dweeb in the class.” He sighed and paced a circle around the room, “you know, I had the biggest crush on you. That doesn’t mean anything now, it doesn’t mean I want you to fall into my arms, but it means I want to help you. It’s the right thing to do, somehow I made a career of doing the right thing so what’s one more?”

You felt your chest sink and you covered your cheeks with your hands, “Sasha?”

“Please,” he cringed, “I was a teen boy, I think I had a thing for Oprah once. Really, it’s just… we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

“I can’t…” you sniffled and dropped your hands, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Sasha intoned, “and you don’t deserve to live like that. I know this isn’t much but I know you. You’ll find your way, you just got a little lost.”

“I…” you shook your head speechless.

“We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and then we can see about retrieving your things from Steve,” he neared the door and stopped beside you, “or we can say fuck it and you can start all over.”

You turned and slung your arms around him. You buried your face against his shoulder as tears spilled out onto his jacket.

“How did you know?” you sobbed.

“That day at the shower,” he rubbed your back gently, “you know, lawyers learn how to read people and you never were very good at subtlety.”

“No,” you chuckled through your tears, “No, it’s why I was great as a bard.”

“Mmm,” he grumbled, “if that’s how you remember it.”

🍭

It felt like Sasha was gone forever but when you checked the clock, it had only been twenty minutes. 

You sat on the couch with your feet under you as you watched the news and rocked nervously. All anyone was talking about was Steve Rogers’ runaway bride. Your face was everywhere and the statement issued by Steve made it all the worse.

He painted you as a gold-digger, as an adulterer, as a swindler. He was the heartbroken fiancé and you were the wrongdoer. You knew it would go this way but expectation never softened reality.

You flinched as the lock turned and Sasha entered with a bag in hand. He came to the couch and set it down beside you.

“I don’t know about my taste in women's clothes but those should do,” he said as he checked his watch, “we should go soon.”

“Yeah,” you stood and opened the bag to reveal the lavender blouse and dark jeans, “you really didn’t have to--”

“You kidding, he’s gonna be surrounded by cameras. You can’t win his game if you don’t play it. I’ve dealt with his type before, they’re the ones who need lawyers on standby,” he sneered, “did you eat?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you swiped up the bag and headed for the hallway, “it was good.”

“No problem,” he shrugged as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv, “and ignore all that nonsense.”

You got dressed and emerged as your anxiety grew to impatience. You left the apartment in brittle silence and the car ride fed the uneasy bubbling of your stomach. .

As you came up to Steve’s building, you sat for a moment before you got out. Sasha followed and shoulder away the cameras as you neared the front door

The elevator moved slowly and fidgeted uncontrollably as it dinged on Steve’s floor. You swallowed and braced yourself to face Steve. Sasha kept a few feet back as you walked down the hall and stopped at the door. You knocked as you found it locked.

It was a while before it opened but when it did, you were startled as Steve grabbed the front of your blouse and wrenched you inside. He spun you but quickly released you as he was knocked off balance and sent sprawling over the floor. Sasha stood above him with his hands in fists.

“Hey,” he pointed at Steve then looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded as Steve glared between the two of you and cautiously got to his feet, “so you brought your little boyfriend?”

“She’s here to get her stuff. We thought we’d avoid a police escort, as her lawyer I thought it prudent, but we can always make that phone call,” Sasha said sternly, “she is entitled to her possessions.”

“Her stuff? I paid for every single thing she has to her name. Hers? Mine.” Steve spat and reared on you again, only to be caught by Sasha as he inserted himself between you.

“You will not touch her again. Those things you bought for her were gifts. You have no legal rights to them once they are given. She will take her clothes, her phone, and any other necessities.”

“Pfft, she’s not taking anything. She’s not going anywhere,” Steve growled, “she not yours--”

“I am certain the photogs would appreciate a show,” Sasha pulled out his phone, “police? That can only be a domestic dispute.”

Steve squinted and his nose flared as he looked at you over Sasha’s shoulder, “fucking slut.” He crossed his arms and stepped aside, “get your shit, get out…” he hissed, “but I have my rights too. You will not keep me from my baby.”

“That will be settled in court,” Sasha replied coolly, “go on, get your things.”

He waved you past him as he kept you shield from Steve. He was of a height with Steve but not as broad. Even so, you felt safe behind him. You rushed down to the bedroom and quickly gathered up your toiletries and those clothes you didn’t absolutely hate. Your phone screen was shattered but you took it anyway.

As you emerged again, a bag slung on your shoulder, you slid the ring from your finger. 

“You can keep the rest,” you said as you placed the band on the small round table just inside the front room, “goodbye Steve.”

“Goodbye? Goodbye?” he spat, “this isn’t the end and you fucking know it.”

“Calm down,” Sasha warned.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Steve shoved him, “I should fucking smash your head in--”

“I’d like you to try,” Sasha stood his ground, “really. You think the court would let a violent man be around an infant?”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. He backed down and shouldered by Sasha. “Get the fuck out.”

You left quickly. You had no desire to hang around. As you stepped onto the elevator, Sasha softly touched your elbow and you winced. The bag fell to your elbow and he quickly scooped it up and heaved it over his own shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, “he was so angry. I--”

“I was stupid, we should’ve brought the police. Fuck the cameras,” he said, “from this point on, no contact with him whatsoever. Only through me and the court. No talking to reporters, no nothing.”

“Yeah, that won’t be hard,” you uttered as he led you out of the elevator. 

As you came outside, cameras flashed and voices called out. You collided with Sasha as he was blocked by a photographer shouting questions, “is it true you’re pregnant? Is it Steve’s?”

“My client will not be answering questions,” Sasha kept on and made a path for you, “go, she’s not answering any of your questions.”

He elbowed past more cameras and opened the car door for you. You fell inside and quickly huddled down in your seat. As he sat behind the wheel, he mumbled and pulled out into traffic. He gripped the wheel tightly and pushed himself back into the vinyl.

“That asshole,” he said, “he’s gonna want the paternity test. This isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“I can’t… he fucking told them. I mean, I’m not surprised but… god,” you grimaced.

“We’ll get the test done before he makes a formal request,” Sasha said, “it shows transparency and when we hand over those results, we’ll include those police reports too.”

“Police reports?” you blinked.

“Sorry, I… It’s a suggestion,” he said tersely, “but he’s going to make this a trial by media.”

“No, no, I want to,” you said firmly, “I want everyone to know the real Steve Rogers.”

🍭

‘I was just like many struggling in the city. I worked a low-paying job in data entry and lived in an apartment which was little more than a box. The dreams of the big city were passing me by as there was little opportunity to be found.

Then I met Steve Rogers. Like a dream or a Lifetime movie. I was in debt, I was desperate, and he offered me a safety net. I can own my part in the relationship; I was interested and I accepted his generosity. I was all too happy with the arrangement.

That was until I found out that it was all based on a lie. I didn’t know that he had access to my accounts even before I knew him, that he had used his connections to force me into that dire situation. And I could not know the real man behind the billionaire façade.

It was little things at first. Any woman loves to feel wanted but his possessiveness soon turned to control. He kept me isolated from my own family and did not permit me to do anything without his permission. His affection turned to obsession and when it was not reciprocated he forced it from me.

He took me on vacation and did not allow me to wear clothes. He chose what I wore, how I looked, and what I did. He coerced me into acts I was reluctant about, and when he was too rough, he did not listen to my pleas for him to stop.

When I tried to leave him, he followed me and dragged me back. He had me watched by PIs and surveilled all my communications. He used his financial power to control me and when that did not work, he used his physical power.

Steve Rogers abused me. He yelled in my face, he threatened my family, and he choked me.

Steve Rogers raped me. He expected me to bend to his will whenever he desired and when I refused, he held me down and did what he wanted.

Steve Rogers took my whole life and when I chose to leave, he set his eyes on the life inside of me. 

The only thing I want from him is freedom. I want to live safely with my child and I want that child to never experience the abuse of their father. I never want anyone to know that horror again which is why I have written this and released the police records. I am not asking for anything but peace for me and my unborn child.’

The statement was carefully edited by Sasha. You reread the font across the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, the article spliced with excerpts not only from the police reports, but your own emailed accounts of your relationship, and the whole thing began with an image of that broken bathroom door.

It was two months since you ran away from the altar but life was not a romcom. It was a disaster. Even with the article, you knew not all would believe you. You knew it would open you to doubt and vitriol. And you knew Steve would have a response.

You closed the magazine and groaned as you rubbed your hips. Freedom didn’t feel so… freeing. There was a long way to go; court dates, doctor’s appointment, and depositions. But it was a start.

You rested your hand on your stomach and pushed on the arm of the couch as you stood stiffly. When you were halfway up, you felt a hand on your elbow and Sasha helped you stand straight. You smiled guiltily. You’d grown a lot in the last few weeks and still had nearly four months to go.

“The reviews are good,” he said, “I know that is kinda grim but… people seem to believe you.”

“Seem to?” you echoed as you went to the kitchen and pulled out the container of sliced strawberries, “or they don’t?”

“Well,” he leaned on the counter as he watched you add too much cream to the berries and smiled, “Stark Industries has cut ties with Shield, Inc. and Tony has made a sizeable donation to several shelters across the city,” he cupped his chin coyly as he leaned on his elbow, “and will be covering legal costs for the support hearings seeing as I can’t legally represent you anymore.”

“Oh,” your mouth fell open before you could spray some cream onto your tongue, “when were you going to tell me this?”

“I’m telling you now,” he crossed his arms as he shifted them further over the island, “I thought I’d give the good news first.”

“And the bad?” you put down the can of cream as you neared the marble across from him.

“I have several requests for interviews and I think you should do at least one,” he said, “I know you hate reporters and all that but… with a little Rogers baby on board, it’s just another part of the process.”

“Oh, and what should I tell them,” you edged around the counter towards him, “that I moved? That I found someone better?” He turned to you, his lips curved as he leaned in and you turned your face up to peck his lips, “or maybe I should tell them I’m single? Keep the intrigue?”

“As long as you tell them I’m handsome, I don’t mind,” he purred as he placed his hand on your side.

“Oh, how could I leave that out?” you cooed and kissed him again, “patient, loving, kind… but what a geek?”

“A geek?” he smirked and framed your chin with his hands, “says the dungeon master.”

You giggled and ran your hands up his chest, “someone’s gotta raise this little bard well.”

“Oh, no, no, she’s not gonna be a bard. Maybe a cleric?”

“No way! That’s lame,” you chirped, “how about… a sorcerer? Ours is a bit lacking.”

“Excuse you,” he quipped, “what was your AC again? Maybe next session I’ll run out of healing spells.”

“See?” you taunted, “geek.”

You drew him to you until he was pressed to your belly and he swept you up in a kiss. You rocked with him as he turned you against the counter and slowly parted.

You squeezed his wrist as you went back around to your strawberries and cream. You took a spoon and scooped up a mouthful as you slid your phone towards you. Sasha stayed as he was, watching you scroll through the emails and piled up texts.

You stopped as one blared in all caps. There was no name, only ‘Private’. You opened the conversation and found a dozen bubbles; ‘THIS ISN’T OVER’, ‘HE CAN’T KEEP YOUR FROM ME’, ‘CUTE, YOU THINK PEOPLE BELIEVE YOUR SHIT.’ Another message blipped up, an image and you dropped your spoon as it opened.

You saw the picture of your sister and her son. You shook as you put your hand down on the counter and choked on the cream.

“What?” Sasha reached over and turned your phone to him, “Shit,” he sighed and blocked the number, “he’s just stacking the evidence against himself.”

“I--” you blinked as tears boiled behind your eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” he screencapped the conversation, “this just makes the case even easier.”

“No, I will always be afraid of him,” you said as you touched your stomach, “it’s not just about me anymore.”

“And it’s not just you anymore,” he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, “we’ve been through worse. If we can get through a cave full of orcs, we can defeat Steve Rogers.”

END (or is it?)

[mountswhore]

𝐝𝐨𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 — jesse lingard

summary: jesse was afraid to lose you, but you have to reassure him that his money and fame mean nothing to you.

notes: requests are open, ask away!

for @bite-me-en-la-boca

Jesse was afraid to lose you, as simple as that. He wasn’t blind to the double takes people do when you walk past them, or the comments from men at the club when they pass. You were stunning — and Jesse knew that, along with everyone else.

Even his own friends would make little comments, obviously they knew they wouldn’t act on it, so did he, but his girlfriend was wanted by even his closest mates. It definitely made him hold onto you a little tighter. Whenever you’d visit him at training, or go to an event with him, he’d keep you close and constantly shower you in affection, so everybody knew you were his.

The Instagram comments were the worst, not only would his be littered with ‘she’s fit’ or ‘lucky man’, but yours were so vivid that you’d refuse to open them. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t scroll through them every once in a while to see what people were saying, only to return to you a while later with a heavy heart.

The whole of the UK male population were after you, which is why tonight was the worst for Jesse. You were celebrating Marcus’ birthday, and it was completely unlike him to want to go clubbing, but you both agreed anyway.

Jesse watched with a sick feeling in his stomach, almost feeling the need to grab his phone and text his best friend that he was too sick to go. And keep you at home. He knew what tonight would be like, he knew that someone would make a comment, or give you a suggestive glance, and it would ruin his night.

“How do I look?” You asked, smiling innocently up at your boyfriend. Even with heels on, he towered over you. Jesse pushed his negative thoughts to the side to compliment you.

“Wow. Where’s Y/N gone?” He asked, holding your hand and twirling you around slowly. You met his eyes once again with a pout, and Jesse kissed it away. There was never a day he didn’t compliment you on your beauty.

“Real funny. Are you ready?”

“Do I look ready?” Jesse countered, standing back from you and showing off his smart casual attire. You laughed and smoothed the fabric of his shirt down, smiling up at him. He looked back down at you with so much love in his eyes, you’d forget he was hiding his intrusive thoughts behind those eyes.

The pair of you left, getting an Uber to the club you were supposed to arrive at 20 minutes ago. Marcus was waiting inside, sitting in a booth with a few other United boys. The second Marcus spotted you, he moved out of the booth to greet you both.

“Jess,” Marcus spoke, pulling his best friend into a hug, “how’ve you been?”

Jesse just nodded, watching his attention divert from him to you. He squeezed you tightly and almost lifted you from your feet. He knew Marcus would never betray him like that, no matter how hot you were. He trusted Marcus entirely, but it was just adding fuel to the fire. Jesse felt tense from the moment he entered the club, the boys greeting you and having a laugh with you. It was off-putting, he just wanted to go home and watch your rubbish tv. He’d sit through hours of it if it meant you weren’t here getting preyed on.

Throughout the night, you’d had shot after shot, begging Jesse to dance with you an hour in. And he was keeping you close to him, eyes watching intently as you swayed your hips onto him. Your eyes were on him the entire time, not paying mind to the people around you. Jesse so badly wanted to enjoy this moment with you, but those eyes surrounding you were slowly pushing him over the edge.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” He snapped, causing a small space to form between the pair of you. You stepped back in shock, staring at your boyfriend who angrily stared at the people surrounding you.

His eyes had found yours again, but you were gone. You’d approached the booth Marcus was sitting at, wedging between him and Jadon, a frown on your face.

“What happened, Y/N?” Marcus questioned, an arm around your shoulder as you looked visibly upset. You saw Jesse sat at the bar now, head in his hands with a drink in front of him.

“He just shouted in front of everyone, it’s so embarrassing.” You stated, folding your arms and stealing a drink from the table. You didn’t know who the victim of the stolen drink was, quite frankly, you didn’t care. Jesse had bursted his anger in front of everyone, and even though it wasn’t directed at you, it still embarrassed you.

The next half hour was torture, you were slowly losing your buzz and the night was becoming boring. You were sandwiched between the two boys, and they refused to let you have any more drinks. Jesse was still sulking at the bar, but you didn’t care. You’d let him sulk there for the remainder of the evening, if need be.

“Guys, I think I might head home,” you mentioned, standing up and wiggling over the line of boys, “I’m super tired now.” You waved sweetly at Marcus, wishing him one more ‘happy birthday’ before you were leaning against the wall and waiting for your Uber.

Jesse looked back at the booth, wondering which boy had an arm around you this time, but you were gone. The space between Marcus and Jadon that you occupied had now disappeared. His eyes frantically searched the dance floor, but you were nowhere to be seen. It was only then that he started to regret shouting. He could lie and say he didn’t know what came over him, but he did know. He was jealous.

“She’s gone home.” Marcus spoke into his friend’s ear, patting him on the shoulder. It eased Jesse’s thoughts a little, but he still felt horrible. Jesse had gotten an Uber home not long after you, finding the house completely dark apart from your shared bedroom.

You were tucked into bed, Netflix in the background as you scrolled through your phone. You could see Jesse standing in the doorway, but didn’t acknowledge him as he walked in and sat on your side of the bed. His hand rested on the lump in the duvet that was your leg, waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, his voice soft with guilt. You didn’t even react, you just kept scrolling. “Really, I am. I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

“It’s done now, you need to go to bed. You have Hope tomorrow.” You replied, a lack of emotion in your voice. He knew you loved when Hope was round, the pair of you got on immensely. But you seemed bored now. Bored of listening to him. You had gotten out of bed and left the room, wandering downstairs to distract yourself with something else.

“It’s not done, babe.” Jesse spoke, following your footsteps as you turned into the kitchen. You stood at the counter, grabbing a coffee pod from your cupboard and beginning to make yourself a coffee.

“What else do you want to say, Jesse?” You argued calmly, Jesse almost jumping at the mention of his name. It was always silly pet names, never his name. He could see by the look on your face that you were over this, you were tired, grumpy, getting slightly hungover.

“I know I should never have shouted like that, in front of everyone,” he spluttered, alcohol still in his system. His words were not stringing together very well, which presented a bad case on his behalf, “the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you because of my own insecurities.”

Jesse wasn’t the type to show his insecurities to anyone, not even you at times, but you knew they were there. He was stuck in the mindset of sweeping them away, out of sight and out of mind. You wanted to badly to help him work through them like he did with yours, but he’d never disclose what was bothering him. You turned to look at him, the argument long forgotten now as you wanted this to be the chance he finally opens up.

“What insecurities, Jess?” You wondered, slowly approaching him. Your small hands held his cheeks, you could’ve sworn you’d seen a glint in his eyes.

He shook his head, the window now closed. The opportunity for the pair of you to sit down and talk about what bothered him, it was gone. You were back to pretending not to see his tensed jaw and white knuckles from squeezing his fist together. You sat at the island in defeat, your headache prominent now.

Jesse’s hand fell upon your shoulder, your eyes meeting once again. Your face contorted as a tear fell from your eye, Jesse now going into full on panic mode. He sat beside you, pulling you into his chest and holding you close. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, you weren’t the only one who wished he could say how he felt.

“How are we ever going to move forward together if I don’t know how you’re feeling?” You asked honestly, holding his bare arm and pulling it close to you. There would always be this barricade stopping you from moving forward, his insecurities stopping you both from being able to talk to each other.

Jesse pulled away from you, his fingers fiddling with the expensive ring on your finger. He’d gifted it to you on your two-year anniversary, it was a beautiful night. “I just get jealous. I see your Instagram comments, and mine. I see the way random men look at you on the street, in the club, in the fucking supermarket. Even the boys are always complimenting you, being touchy with you. It might sound stupid and it might seem like it’s nothing, but it makes me fucking jealous.”

“You know I’d never do that to you,” you turned to Jesse, now clutching his hand tightly, “you’re the only one I want.”

“I know that, love. I have been fucked around before, girls always go after my money and my name. You don’t even shoo these boys away. It’s like you enjoy their attention.” Jesse accused, his tone still soft with you. He never raises his voice with you, and you never have with him.

This comment hurt you, your waterline burned with tears once again, hearing your boyfriend even fathom these ideas. “I don’t pay these boys any mind. You’re the only one I want attention from, I barely give the rest of them a second glance. And I’m sorry that your friends are touchy with me, I just give them lots of hugs and squeezes because they’re your friends, I want them to like me. I know how important they are to you. So they’re important to me.”

Even though Jesse thought you liked the attention, and wanted him for his name and wealth, even though it deeply pained you for him to think these things of you, you kept it cool. He was hurting, these were his insecurities. You looked up at him, giving him your infamous doe eyes, the ones he fell for in the first place.

“If I only wanted you for your wealth and name, I wouldn’t bother with Hope. I love that girl, she’s my best friend. I’d do anything for her,” Jesse smiled at your comment, his hand smoothing over your cheek, “I wouldn’t bother with your family, I wouldn’t call them up everyday asking how they are. I wouldn’t bother with your career, making sure your training kit is washed and you have appropriate lunch.” You emphasised the word appropriate, as Jesse would sometimes leave with just one of Hope’s lunchables, or just a yoghurt.

Jesse let out a laugh, both hands now holding your face close to his. “Thank you. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“I won’t take your name when we get married, just to prove that I’m not in it for fame and wealth,” you admitted, a smile on your face, “I don’t know how you do it if I’m honest, you can’t even walk around the shop without someone approaching you. It’d get on my nerves.”

“Of course you’re gonna take my name,” Jesse cooed, kissing the bridge of your nose and looking down at you once more, “and you better get used to it, because I’m not giving you up.” He held you tight to him, the both of you still reeking of alcohol and the coffee long forgotten.

[whoreshijima]

So me and @m-mortimer did a lil collab :) all we do is thirst at eachother so here enjoy our one braincelled thinking and horniness 🤍

Thank you Izzy for allowing me to post this ilyvm and Your smart brain :))

WC- 2.9k

CW// daddy kink, reader has a vagina, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, slight mention of breeding, FaceTime masturbation, choking, mentions of fem receiving oral, basically no prep fucking

Every time Ushijima goes away, he promises to call you everyday, even if it’s for two minutes before bed or as he’s eating his lunch on the small breaks he gets. You appreciate it so much, the way he thinks about you constantly. But sometimes it gets to be way too much, way too long. He’s been away for three days now, three days too long. Ushijima called you as often as he could, simply missing the sweet tone you’d greet him with, the smile on your face as you answered the call. He loved every part of you, from how you dance whilst making dinner as he watched through the screen. Or how, like right now, you’re trying to hide your whimpers from the microphone and how you’re trying to keep your face straight, keeping the casual chatter about what you’re going to do that day.

It started as a simple FaceTime call from his cheap hotel bed, like any other day he’s away. But the grumbling deep voice on the other end of the phone, mixed with three days without his touch, made you shivery and needy. You didn’t know Ushijima was thinking the same thing. The slight mess of your bed hair and bare skin around your shoulders and chest from the small cami you were wearing made his breath catch in his chest, blood rushing south instantly.

“I dunno I might go grocery s-shoppping” you mumble out, cursing yourself for stumbling over your words as your fingers ghost over your clit, the slickness from your arousal easing your movements between your legs. Ushi can hear the sheets shuffling, the way your legs spread to give you more space to slide your fingers deep inside yourself, the wet sounds not breezing past your boyfriend's ears without notice. “Get us some f-food for when you come home?” You can’t hide the way your breath catches in your throat as you catch the spot deep inside you, the spot that Ushijima knows makes you scream and gush around him. “W-what would you like to eat?”

If Ushijima could answer honestly, he’d want to eat you. Spend hours between your legs as he swirls his warm tongue around and over your clit, strong hands pinning your legs to the bed as he spits and devours your cunt. There’s nothing better than the idea of you cumming over his mouth, writhing and wriggling under his firm grip, as two fingers curl and scissor inside you, knowing that he’s prepped you enough for his cock. Prepped you enough so that the stretch around him doesn’t hurt you as much as it should.

Just the thought of him being between your legs, cunt stretched so beautifully around him as he pushes inside you, your soft, plush thighs wrapped around his waist as he bucks his hips up into your swollen cunt. Imagining the way your warm walls surround him as he pins you to the mattress, a large hand wrapped around your tiny throat, completely at his mercy, has him pushing his hips into the mattress.

“Erm, chicken of some type?” Lower. His voice was definitely lower, almost a snarl as he talks to you, the pressure of his cock against the mattress making his eyes roll to the back of his head briefly.

“S-stir fry?” You turn your head to meet his gaze through the screen, your eyes are glazed over. Your glossy ones meet his lust filled stare, his lips are parted in small gasps and grunts. You know exactly how his other hand is gripping the sheets, knuckles turning whiter and whiter everytime the head of his cock catches against the bumps of the sheets and mattress. Neither of you bothering to hide from eachother, you let out a whine, letting your mouth hang open as you speed your fingers up against your clit.

How you wish you could see his swollen, leaking cock right now. The way it twitches with every grind forward, how the pre cum beads at the head of his cock before dripping down the shaft. But the way his face is scrunched up as he closes his eyes, the few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and how the hand holding the phone is shaking ever so slightly drives you insane. You can hear the squeak of his hotel mattress everytime he moves against it, the steady sound obvious to anyone near his room. The gentle banging of the headboard against the wall would make anyone think he’s Railing someone hard, but it’s just him, desperately rutting against the bed.

Ushi growls out a “Fuck baby” and that’s all it takes for you to arch your back and cry out for him, fingers rubbing speedily at your swollen clit and leaking pussy. The lewd sounds of your sweet slick dripping out of you mixed with the sweet Mewls you let out, driving ushi over the edge. His hips roll one, two times before he grunts out, body shaking as he cums, spilling all over his boxers and the sheets underneath him. His cock is throbbing over the thought of cumming inside you, marking you as his. Breeding you and filling you up with his cum. He lets out a shaky breath, staring into your eyes as he watches your arm moving fast in the view of the camera.

“Cum for me” he growls, voice low and gruff as he commands you to cum. And you’re not one to disobey him, your fingers move faster as you grind up into your touch. A high whimper leaves your mouth as you reach the point of orgasm, swiftly followed by a loud and needy moan, directing it at your boyfriend. Your body shakes and twitches as you ride it out, a layer of sweat adorning your skin.

“Fuck...” you whisper, finally going limp against the sheets and pillows “I miss you... so much” his gaze has softened as he smiles gently at you. He so desperately wants to reach through the screen to stroke your cheek with his thumb, hooking his fingers under your chin and pull you in for a deep kiss. To feel how your spit mixes together, and how it drips over your chin after he’s fucked you dumb on his cock.

He chuckles deeply, it rumbling through his chest “Oh just you wait till I’m home baby”

He was late. Which was a first, because there was no skirting around anything with him, either five minutes early or exactly on time. Maybe it was the nerves making you work double speed, looking at the clock every other second, turning on your phone and forgetting to actually look at the time and having to turn it on again, revisiting the last message he’d sent you - a blunt text telling you he was just getting a taxi from the airport and that he should be back in about thirty minutes.

Forty minutes ago. The skin around your thumb was raw with how you’d been nibbling at it, but not from nerves, if the dampness of your underwear and the tension in your core was anything to go by. No, you were ridiculously turned on, from what? From everything, from nothing, from him and that goddamn look he gave you two nights ago, paired with a few choice words that sparked lightning up your spine just remembering them.

“Baby.”

In that blunt, dark voice of his, croaky from sleep and strained from moaning your name, lips swollen from how hard he’d been biting it to stop himself grunting and snarling as loud as he usually did. God - that was what you were waiting for, the sounds of him, the smell of him, the taste of him, of his mouth, of his fingers, of his cock.

You shivered, a wave of lust clouding your mind for a split second, daring to slide a hand between your thighs, trembling and tensing already, and all you’d done was think about him. 3 days, 3 fucking days and you were reduced to this quivering mess on the couch at the thought of Ushijima coming through that door and finally - finally giving you what he’d promised during that call.

A muffled vibration and ding sprung you from your thoughts, from your quick spiralling down into a puddle on the floor, ripping your fingers from your underwear to pick up your phone, heart stopping and breath catching at the singular word on the screen.

Here

It was a fucking word and yet, a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your body and you struggled to stand, shaking with adrenaline and panting heavily, the implications of the word taking a toll on your body and if you were in your right mind - you’d probably slapped yourself and remarked on how desperately pathetic you were acting. But it had been 3 days, 3 agonising days of waiting and texting and barely being able to talk to him outside his strict schedule and your shifts at work.

And now? He was here, he was here and you could hear the elevator ding at the end of the corridor and the back of your neck heated, and all you could see was the front door and your hand gripping the handle, and something thumped to the ground and -

He was here. Ushijima - he was stood right there, at arm’s length, neck pillow tucked under one arm and duffle bag slumped at his feet. That must have been the thing that fell to the floor, but you don’t really care because he’s staring at you with the dark, dangerous look on his face and it should have struck playful fear into you but all you could do was whimper,

“Toshi,”

You sounded so much better saying his name in real life, fresh and feeble and sending blood draining from his head so fast, one hand shot out to grab the door frame. Ushijima strained, against everything, knuckles turning white and he probably could have cracked the woodwork, cock unbearably hard and aching within seconds of seeing you. It would have been a lie to say that he hadn’t been half hard the entire time after your call, unable to get the vision of you with your head tossed back and your eyes scrunching in pleasure, cumming deliciously from the frantic movements of your fingers beneath your pyjamas.

“Again,”

You squeak, he’s never sounded like that before, never been so low and so gruff, on the verge of snapping, avoiding your eye because if he could see the wrecked gaze you fixed on him -

“Toshi - please,”

His shirt ripped from the force with which he tore it over his head, one arm getting caught in his desperate attempt to strip and he very nearly tripped when his foot caught in the strap of his duffle bag, dragging it over the threshold before untangling himself,

“Again, say it again baby,”

He’s on you before you know what’s going on, kicking the door shut but neither of you hear it click, too consumed in each other to really worry about the fact his bag is preventing you two from having complete privacy. But you can’t think, you can’t form a single thought apart from,

“Toshi - Toshi more please!” Ushijima’s mouth swallowing your words almost instantly, one of his hands cupping the entirety of the back of your head, tilting you just so and allowing him to lick into you, feasting on your lips and tongue like a man starved and for a second, you realise he probably is. And so are you, god - you’re hungry for everything he has to offer, wrapping your hands around his waist and trying desperately to shove his sweat pants down, hissing when he accidentally bit your lip too hard but he’s dipping to your neck and delivering an even harsher bite -

“Fuck,”

Your legs give out, like they usually do under his rough assaults of your neck but you often have a bed or a couch behind you, nothing cushioning you from the hard wood floors of the hallway except for the fat of your ass and his arms encircling your head and shoulders.

“Here - I’m fucking you here, I can’t wait,” Ushijima follows you down, mouth barely leaving yours, form engulfing yours, hands trapping yours. He spreads you out on the cold floor, snarling when he gets a face of your chest from how violently you arch at the temperature and the painful nips left over the skin of your collar bone.

Ushijima isn’t much of a talker when he’s got you trembling underneath him, but the comments that are spat unfiltered from his mouth do absolutely nothing to curb the bright hot lust making you loose all semblance of control,

“Fuck - you’re soaking, did you wait for me? Did you make yourself cum again after I ended the call? No? I didn’t - I’ve been waiting for two days to do this, to touch you like this, put my hands on your body like this - fuck baby you’re so needy - no, here, look at me,”

You hadn’t even realised you had closed your eyes and thrown your head back, feeling thick fingers digging into your jaw and forcing you to look at him, dark eyes tracing every inch of your face while he dragged the other hand down your torso, short nails catching the loose fabric of your dress. It was a short moment of clarity; him looking at you, you looking at him, eyes softening so something akin to affectionate love before it was overwhelmed with predatory intent, that soft touch of his hand shoving your thighs apart and sinking into your underwear,

“M’not - I can’t wait, I can’t - let me,”

“Yes! Yes! Toshi please!”

You two sound ridiculous, desperate and clawing at each other, your smaller fingers shoving his trousers down over his ass and your entire body jolts when his cock dropped heavily on to your cunt, hot and angry and hard as fucking steel, throbbing against your clit and you clench around nothing, the anticipation too much to contain.

Ushijima is in no better state than you, fumbling with his footing with snaps of his jaw and he’s entirely too rough with the way he pumps himself, grinding against the silk of your cunt in a feeble attempt to try and prep you, to make the breach less painful, less of a stretch but you need that, you do and it’s driving you crazy, and it’s probably driving him crazy too,

“Go - Toshi, please, I can’t - fuck me please!”

The strength that emerges from the man astounds you every time, hoisting your thighs high up his waist and then apparently changing his mind, throwing your ankles over his shoulders and looming over you, sinking into you with once, debilitating thrust of his hips. And the noise that left him, oh god - it was borderline animalistic, debauched and wrecked, and one of the hottest things you think you’ve ever heard.

He’s got his hands either side of your head, clawing against the floor for purchase, immediately starting a brutal pace, the slap of his skin on yours echoing throughout the apartment, drowned out only by the high pitched squeals coming from your mouth and the filthy way he was talking down at you,

“Taking me so well baby, so fucking well - m’so proud of you, didn’t need any prep - fuck! So tight, so goddamn tight f’me -,” he doesn’t soften, not when the sounds of your pussy creaming around his cock grows louder with every sharp snap of his hips, shoving your legs into your chest and forcing harsh shouts from your throat,

“Yes! Daddy - missed you so, so much - harder, please! I’ll be s’good for you, so good just - hah - harder!”

Neither of you realise that every sound your bodies produce, every squelch and click of your cunt, every growl and deep snarl from his chest, every needy squeal and plea from your lips can be heard all the way down the corridor. The front door was still open, propped from where the duffle bag had prevented it from closing, the light from the corridor providing a perfect spotlight for the unsuspecting neighbour who dared venture out to see what all the noises were.

The vision of Ushijima’s back rippling and rolling with his bringing his hand to close around your throat, prompting a garbled hiccup and tears to spring in your eyes, and your little feet dangling uselessly over his shoulders probably should have rendered them silent, shocked and rooted to the spot.

But the quiet gasp was caught by the hulking creature on top of you, quirking his head and making eye contact with them for a split second before simply resuming his quick, paralysing thrusts, harder even than before - drawing a high pitched wail from your throat and there was no mistaking the fluid splashing on the floor, mingling with white and smearing over his balls, slapping against your ass.

A leg struck out, kicking the door shut and locking the duffle outside, looking as sorry for itself and your neighbour, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy, still reflecting the vision of you cumming harshly on Ushijima’s cock, and him simply continuing to fuck you through it, the sounds of you two muffled but no less poignant against the calm stupor of the corridor.

And so what if it carried on, moving through the apartment and quiet possibly earning a complaint from the complex security but neither of you could hear the phone ringing over the bed creaking and slamming against the wall, too consumed in each other, too wound up in the sounds you could pull and the reactions you could bring forward. Damn - if him only being gone for three days turned you both into needy desperate animals, then how the hell would you cope with his next match that required over a week away in a completely different country?

Please follow Izzy she’s a genius and the reason for me being horny @m-mortimer

[lsholland]

London Lights (pt. 2) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; smut (don’t recommend -18 to read)

Word count: 1.5k

Read part 1 here

Author’s note: Hey guys! Part 2 is out... I'd recommend listening to one of these slowed/reverb playlists while reading it. if you know what I mean.

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

What am I doing here with him? I think as I’m watching him wobbling.

The streets are getting darker as we walk out of the city centre. Only a few lamp posts on the sides of the pavement allow me to see his shadowy face. The streets are so quiet. My ears are still not used to this sudden switch to total silence. As I can’t hear my own footsteps, nor feel my feet, it becomes harder and harder to walk straight.

I stumble. I bump against a wall and stop for a few seconds to rest my aching head. My eyes are squeezed.

“Are you alright?” Tom asks when he notices I’m not next to him anymore. He approaches and firmly holds my arm.

I try to keep my eyes shut but he’s so close to me I feel nervous and keep opening them to make sure I’m not dreaming.

He glances around and raises his brows. “How far are we?”

“Far” is all I manage to say as I examine his facial features. I can only see his side profile and it’s enough for me to lose my mind. I’m mesmerised by his beautiful straight nose, his sharp jawline, and his wavy chocolate hair.

He glances at me.

Eye-contact.

I look away. I’m anxious. I’m intimidated. I’m overwhelmed. And I’m drunk above all. And I want to kiss him, but I know it’s only going to end up badly if I do so.

I discretely glance up, making sure I’m avoiding eye contact. He’s still watching me.

He’s so close to my face. His warm, beer-scented breath caresses my skin. I’m shivering.

“Let’s go” I whisper.

He smirks.

We keep walking next to each other. I make sure to keep a distance from him. For security.

He’s not as drunk as I am. And even though he seems adorable, I can’t truly trust him. Or that’s what I say not to admit I’m really attracted to this man.

For the first time since we met, he checks his phone. The screen is so bright it burns my eyes. I feel a certain dizziness in my body. My hands become numb.

Tom frowns his eyebrows as he reduces the brightness of his phone screen. He opens and closes apps. I can see the blue colour of text messages on his iPhone.

I’m insanely curious. I can’t read anything, but I stare at his screen.

Who is he texting?

He peers at me. I startle and look down instantly. I’m ashamed. I hope he didn’t notice I was watching his phone. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to invade his privacy.

“I wasn’t looking—just the brightness of the screen—I don’t know.” I babble.

He doesn’t react. He keeps reading his text messages and taps on his phone.

I messed up.

We keep walking silently until we reach my apartment. His attention’s been on his phone all the time. Disappointment is rushing through my body like a thrill as I prepare to say goodbye.

I don’t want to.

But I have to.

I stop walking to show him we’ve arrived. He turns his phone off and looks at the old building. His thoughts are transiting from whatever conversation he had with his friends/girlfriends or whoever – I don’t care – to the realisation that our paths are parting.

This moment has lasted for only one second, but my thoughts are going crazy. I think of all the possible outcomes. Of all the romantic movies I watched when I was younger. Of all the ideas I had on the road. At this particular moment, I am aware it was all just a dream. He’s just being nice with me.

I’ve known him for a couple of hours. We’ve only exchanged a few words, but I am deeply sad. I try to think of any excuse to make him come inside and spend the rest of the night together. But none of them are reasonable.

Get with it.

I glance at him. He’s watching me, waiting for a signal. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even blink.

“That’s where I live” I say as I’m going through my purse to find my keys. I’ve found them immediately, but I just pretend a little longer to give him the chance to say something.

He doesn’t.

I sigh. “Thank you for walking me home,” I grin while holding my tears, hoping he doesn’t notice I’m devastated. “Is it going to be okay to go back home on your own?”

He peers down at his phone one last time. “Yeah, it’ll be alright . . .”

That’s it. I’ve drawn on all my ideas. I can’t keep on trying. I’ve got to let him go.

“Good night . . .” I whisper as I put the key in the lock. I try my best not to look back.

Pathetic.

As a tear drops from my eye, I come to the sudden realisation none of this is real. I am so drunk my emotions are raw. But none of them are genuine. I didn’t even know him a few hours ago. The next morning I’ll have a laugh when I think of the whole situation.

I feel a little better.

“I’m sorry!” Tom shouts before I close the door behind me. I watch him through the gap. He comes to me with a grin on his face. “You’re fun, I like you.”

My eyes are wide open. I don’t know what to say. I stutter.

“I like to keep my circle close though. I hope you understand”

I nod.

What he just said is breaking my heart. It feels like I am the problem. Like I am not enough. Everything I’ve been trying to forget from my previous relationships is resurging in my mind.

I start crying.

My ex-boyfriend left me for someone else. He cheated on me. He disrespected me in every way that’s possible. He made me feel miserable for being who I am.

And even though it isn’t Tom’s intention, I feel the same.

“No, no, no!” he grabs my face in the palm of his hands and brings my face closer to his. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

I don’t understand anything.

“I really like you,” he added as he glanced at each one of my eyes and my lips and my hair and my eyes again “we’ve only just met.”

I nod. “It’s okay” I whisper as smoothly as possible.

I’m not okay.

“I mean—You know who I am . . .” he glances around as if we were being watched “That’s too big a risk.”

I nod, again.

I still don’t understand anything.

Anxiety and shame rush together through my body, from my core to the tip of my fingers. I’m feeling so bad.

I should’ve stayed with my boring date.

“Yeah, it’s alright” I whisper facing down.

He raises his eyebrows. I can’t look at him in his eyes, but I can feel he’s surprised by my reaction.

What did he expect?

“Just—Make sure you’re safe on your way home” I add.

This is my goodbye though I’m not entirely sure he understands.

His face shifts. He’s intensely watching the bottom of my face. His lips are moving as if he were trying to say something but silently stutters.

I’m not sure I want to hear another reason why he can’t be with me.

I glance at him. He doesn’t move.

We’ve stayed at my doorstep for way too long now. It’s getting awkward. It’s better to call it a night and just pretend like I never hoped for more than this.

I try to close the door but stumble. Even though I’m sobering up, I’m still feeling dizzy.

“Let me walk you to your apartment” Tom says.

I nod. I can’t do anything else.

There is no elevator in my building. Luckily, my apartment is on the second floor.

Tom is holding my shoulder as I step in the staircase. He doesn’t say a word.

I’m so anxious I can’t stop thinking about all the inconsistencies in his behaviour. Why would he come with me here? It’s quite risky. Paparazzies are going to think he’s getting lucky tonight. I thought he was avoiding this . . .

I’m now in front of my apartment door, completely out of breath.

“Thanks, Tom” I whisper.

At this moment, I know it’s the last time I’ll ever see him. I feel it in my bones. I feel regret, hopelessness, dizziness, desire, tension . . .

Stop.

I unlock the door, open it and exhale. Excitement has left my body.

I look at him one last time.

He’s gorgeous.

I’m trying to remember his features for as long as possible. And I don’t realise I’ve been looking at him for a little too long until—

“Fuck” he whispers as he rushes in my apartment, grabs my neck, and pushes me against the wall. He uses his leg to slam the door shut.

I’m speechless.

He kisses me on my lips. A long, hard kiss.

It’s so dark in the room, I can only see his silhouette. And his hair falling on his face. I smell his cologne too. It’s divine.

He kisses my cheek, my jaw, my neck, my shoulder through my dress that seems to be bothering him.

His lips are so soft, it feels like velvet wrapping my skin. It’s intense. He grabs my hair and kisses me one more time, his fingers caressing my skin.

I feel the goosebumps on his skin. I hear his heart racing in his chest. He’s panting. He doesn’t look the same anymore.

The room is silent, I can only hear him breathing. He keeps kissing me and becomes more and more brutal. It feels so good I accidentally moan.

Tom grunts. He looks at me and smirks.

“I just want you”

(Part 3 soon)

[wondersofdreaming]

Keepsake

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader (3rd person)

Word count: 1.827

Warnings: Death, loss, hopelessness, light cursing, sadness, melancholy, grief, heartache, mourning.

Author’s note: This story was inspired by the song 'Everglow' by Coldplay.

Do me a favour and listen to the song, while reading this, I'll link to the different versions, depending on your mood.

Everglow (original) by Coldplay

Everglow (acoustic) by Coldplay

Everglow (instrumental) by Alexandre Pachabezian

The links are for Spotify, if they don't work try this link for YouTube

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the wife, son and Elijah Reed, who are figments of my imagination.

A massive, MASSIVE, thank you to my beloved angel, @radaofrivia, for giving me the idea from just a few thoughts, for sitting through with me while I wrote this, for giving me advice and for just being there.

Please check out her stories right here: RADA'S MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

(Young Syverson, picture credit to @killjoy-assbutt-1112 - find it here)

Oh, they say people come Say people go This particular diamond was extra special And though you might be gone And the world may not know Still I see you, celestial

Lyrics are from Everglow by Coldplay.

The looming grey clouds were moving closer towards him. He could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling thunder. Before long it started to rain and lightning lit up the entire house. The dirt road was flooded in no time, giving the crops the liquid nourishment they needed.

The former army captain was restless. It was on days like these he missed him, more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t sit still and had planned on working on the house, but the coming storm was putting a stop to that. Instead, he sat on the porch swing he built with Elijah when Lucas bought the house.

The Syversons had moved to their farm when Lucas was 4. A few days into the move, their neighbours had stopped by with some casserole, and to welcome them to their community. Mr and Mrs Reed also had a son who was a few months younger than Luc. Elijah had hidden behind his mother’s leg, a little shy, but with some encouragement he greeted Lucas.

“I’m Lucas, but my baby sister can’t say it yet, she keeps babbling Luc, so if it’s easier, you can call me Luc too.”

“I’m Elijah.”

Sy remembered he was trying so hard to pronounce his new friend’s name. He smiled at the memory, the name had been permanent in Lucas’ mind, only using Elijah, when he was mad at him or thinking he was about to do something stupid, which he did often.

“Lija, wanna play?” Lucas asked awkwardly.

“What?” Elijah looked profoundly confused. “I… don’t know.”

“Go on, son. It’s okay,” Mr Reed tried to encourage him.

“Come with me, Lija. I wanna show ya somethin’.”

Lucas had shown Elijah his new toy tractor that his parents had given him for his birthday. The two young boys had played together, and before long were inseparable.

A round yellow object in the palm of his hand. He was fiddling with it. The coin was always in his pocket, so he could keep his best friend close to him at all times. It was an old arcade coin that you could plot into any machine and play one game.

The two best friends had each gotten a dollar’s worth of coins, but the man at the ticket booth had miscounted, so Sy had gotten an extra coin, which the two friends had fought over during their time in the arcade. Lucas being the protector he was, lost to Elijah on purpose, so his friend won the coin.

“I’ll savour it, it’s going to be my lucky coin!” Elijah has announced.

Syverson swung the porch swing with his booted foot. He stared at the coin, wondering why he had been the lucky one. Luc shook his head faintly, his face full of pain and sorrow.

The coin became a thing that decided their fate. When the boys couldn’t agree on something, they would flip the coin. The picture side was heads and the text ‘No cash value’ side was tails. It might have been worth nothing, but it was a priceless item to the two friends.

“Heads: I ask her on a date, tails: you ask her,” Elijah flipped the yellow coin and covered the back of his hand as it landed. The two teenagers looked over at the brunette cheerleader, who was laughing with her friends. Prom was upon them and they both wanted to ask her. Elijah lifted his hand, it was heads.

The dumb coin was always on Elijah’s side. Lucas let out a soft laughter of the memory. Elijah’s face had been priceless, Sy wished he had taken a picture of it. It had been Elijah’s first kiss that night.

When Lucas decided to enlist, Elijah followed him, even with a lot of arguing against it from Sy’s side. He didn’t want his best friend anywhere near a warzone but in the end, he was glad that Lija was there with him through every hardship during training, when they lost people on their team, when they had to carry the dead back to base, it was better to have a friend by your side and share the pain with.

It didn’t take Syverson long to rank up and become captain. He ended up leading a large group of soldiers in a village in Iraq, with Elijah as his lieutenant, he felt like he could conquer the world.

During one of their trips home, Sy had bought a house he wanted to renovate, maybe start a family in. Elijah had spent every moment he could, helping Lucas with the house. It had made them closer as friends, and they had heartfelt talks about their future. Elijah wanted to come home and help his ailing parents with the farm, maybe get into breeding horses, preferably racehorses. Sy hadn’t thought of his future in that sense by then. He just wanted to relax, drink beer and ride his motorcycle.

There was hardly a moment in Lucas’ life where Elijah wasn’t a part of it. Elijah was his best friend, and if he had to be a little girly, they were BFFs. His best friend’s presence had made every moment special, made them better. It was the hardest part, to not have Elijah by his side anymore. He missed Elijah’s silly, huge and sometimes irritating grin, which somehow made the world seem a bit brighter during the dark times. Elijah made his life easier… he just made it better to have a friend to share everything with.

His heart had broken in a million pieces when the building collapsed on top of his best mate.

“Captain, we need a scouting team. I’m taking three soldiers towards those buildings and see if there are enemies up ahead,” Elijah had suggested.

“Lieutenant, I make the orders here. I’m going,” Lucas commanded.

“Heads or tails, Luc,” Elijah picked out the coin from his breast pocket.

“This is no time for such thing, Lija,” the captain grumbled.

“This is the perfect time, Luc. We promised that whenever we couldn’t agree on something, we would use the coin. So, heads or tails, captain Syverson.”

“Heads.”

The coin had landed on the tails side. Lucas had cursed the coin, fuck, shit, crap, dammit!

“It’s my turn to protect you, Luc. I’m not the scrawny little kid anymore, let me show you!”

Elijah had gathered three soldiers and run between two concrete buildings with a big smile on his face. Sy would never forget the smile. It was a grin of pride and determination. And it was the last time Lucas would ever see his best friend.

Moments later a huge explosion shook the ground they were standing on. Sy watched with horror as the buildings collapsed, trapping Elijah and his team. What they didn’t know then was that the impact with the concrete walls had killed him instantly.

The rest of the soldiers watched as their captain went on his knees. Utter despair and anguish plastered on his face, tears about to escape the corners of his eyes. The usual strict army captain, the man with the muscles, the tough guy who could break you with a stare, was breaking down.

“Lija…” he whispered into the dust-filled space, his voice breathless like somebody knocked the air out of his lungs.

At night he had screamed in pain of the loss of his most beloved friend. His days were filled with hopelessness as he prepared to fly home with Elijah’s corpse in a coffin. The nights only brought nightmares, so he started writing a letter to his best friend and thinking of how to tell Elijah’s parents.

“Dear Lija. I can’t believe you’re… Shit, I can’t even write the word. Just a four-letter word, and yet I can’t fucking write it down on a piece of paper. I wish I could have taken your place, man. It should have been me. I hate you for forcing me to pick a side on that stupid coin. I hate you for being so brave. I hate you for wanting to protect me. Fuck you for dying. Fuck you for leaving me. Here. All alone. What about your parents? How am I going to tell them that you’re… how am I going to face them? You are and will always be my best friend. I wish you could go back to your parent’s farm on your own two legs, not in a fucking box. I miss you, Lija. You’re the closest thing to a brother I will ever get. So rest in peace and keep the seat next to you warm, I’ll see you on the other side. - Luc.”

Lucas had sneaked the letter into Elijah’s breast pocket of his uniform before they had shut the coffin. The coin that Elijah had on him, had been put in a plastic bag with the rest of his belongings, prepped to be given to his next of kin, his parents. But Lucas took the yellow token. He needed a memento to remember his best friend by, something that he could keep with him always. A keepsake.

It had taken every ounce of courage for Lucas to step up to the front door of the Reed’s farmhouse. A house he was so familiar with and had so many adventurous sleepovers in Elijah’s space-themed bedroom. He could smell Mrs Reed’s famous peanut brittle, making it harder for him to knock, but he did it anyway. Standing there in his military uniform, he told the two people, who had acted as a second set of parents to him, that their only son had died heroically in battle. Lucas stood frozen, watching them mourn the loss of their son. He was about to step away to give them space, but Mrs Reed grabbed his wrist and brought him into the hug.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” he pleaded, his voice breaking slightly.

“Was he in pain?” Mrs Reed asked, breaking Lucas’ heart all over again.

“No, ma’am. It happened really fast.”

Sy fiddled with the arcade coin. Having zoned out the thunder, not noticing the storm had come and gone. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. It was a peaceful ending to an emotional day.

A loud wailing came from inside the house. The front door opened and out came his beautiful wife with their young son in her arms. His face was stained in tears. The tiny boy reached towards his father the minute he saw him. In his father’s arms was the only place the boy was happy and content. Sy’s face broke into a happy grin at the sight of his son. His tiny fingers trying to grab the coin in the former captain’s hand.

“This,” Sy showed it to his son, “will be yours when you’re old enough not to eat it.”

He chuckled at the frustrated look on the boy’s face. Sy kissed the top of his son’s head.

“I love you, Elijah.”

[forever-rogue]

17 on the angst section of list #2 for whiskey please 🥺

Anything for you, my love 🥺💕 Please enjoy...and ugh...angst time?

Prompt: “Are you upset with me?”

Agent Whiskey x Fem!Reader ; warnings: angst

Pedro Characters Masterlist 

»»————-　♡　————-««

It had been a while since you'd heard from him. Too long. Hours too long. It was supposed to be a simple mission - easy in and easy out. But here you were, alone, worried and waiting - waiting, waiting, waiting. 

You'd busied yourself with cleaning the apartment you shared. When that was done, you'd set about asking dinner, even going out of your way to make Jack's favorites - including dessert. But even that didn't take too long and soon enough your mind was wandering. Every dark thought that you had pushed to the recesses of your mind started to bubble to the surface.

What if something went wrong? What if Jack was hurt? What if the mission was compromised? What if -

No. No. No.

You weren't going to think about that.

Sighing heavily, you padded to the bathroom in order to take a bath. Maybe that would take your mind off of things. Probably not, but hell, it was worth a try. 

Turning on the tap, you made the water as warm as you could tolerate before filling it up with bubbles and oils. This particular one was your favorite; Jack had bought it for you on a mission in France. With that thought brought front and center you huffed at yourself. 

Stripping down and discarding your clothes on the floor, you quickly slipped into the comfort of the warm water. An audible moan slipped past your lips as you submerged your entire body, remaining under the water under you could no longer hold your breath. 

Breaking through the water, you laid against the back of the tub and stared at the ceiling. Physically, your body felt relieved, the ache of the day slowly leaving your body, but mentally, you were still buzzing like crazy.

What would you do if something happened to Jack? If something happened to him you would ever forgive yourself. If he-

"Fuck," you groaned at yourself. Running a hand over your tired face, you quickly formulated a plan. Well, it wasn't as much of a plan as a rash idea. But at this point you needed something to cling onto.

You'd texted and called Jack throughout the afternoon and everything had gone unanswered. But you wanted - needed - answers. And you'd be damned if you weren't going to get them. 

You hastily stood up and stepped out of the tub, almost slipping and falling on the water that had sloshed out on the tile floor. It didn't matter though, as long as you got what you needed nothing else mattered.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You practically stormed into the Statesman Headquarters, dressed in sweats and an oversized hoodie, hair still messy and damp from your bath. No doubt something akin to a mad woman, but right now you didn't care. 

"Ginger!" it was getting later and the building was quiet, but you practically shouted at her, causing her to almost fall from her seat. She clutched at her heart as she settled down and gave you a wide eyed look, "where's Jack? Have you heard from him? Do you know if he's okay?"

"He's fine, honey," she promised, swallowing nervously as you gave her a curious look. If he was fine...why...why hadn't you been the first to know? 

"I've been trying to call him and text him all day and...I-I-I haven't heard back from him," you pouted slightly as you wondered what on earth could have caused such a mishap, "Ginger...what's going on?"

"Jack got back a little bit ago," her voice was soft as her eyes flicked down the hall and in the direction of his office. She wasn't normally like, all nervous and quiet, and you could tell there was something she wasn't telling you, "he's probably just catching up on a few things before coming home to surprise you."

"Ginger," her name off your tongue was low and predatory as you slowly took a step back in the direction of his office. She stood up and opened her mouth to say something but nothing but silence met your ears, "what are you hiding?"

"Don't-" and with that singular word, you dashed down the hall, wanting to know once and for all what the hell was going on with everyone.

As soon as his office came into view, you could see the outline of his figure through the softly frosted glass. A smile started to tug on your features when you realized he was actually alive and well. But your fleeting happiness came to a crashing halt when you saw he wasn't alone.

No - there was another figure, this one noticeably smaller and feminine in appearance next to his. Or rather, wrapped up in his arms as he kissed her. You stood there in silent horror as your heart dropped. 

It was just a kiss right? But then...why was he lifting her on his desk, as he has done to you many times in the past? Why did he keep kissing her? Why did he allow her to strip off his jacket? Why was he reached for the zipper of her dress? Why-

"Honey…" Ginger's voice was soft as she grabbed your hand and started to pull you away. Tears were streaming down your face as you stood there frozen, a few small whimpers escaping your lips. Eventually you gave in and let her pull you away.

"You knew," it wasn't a question - rather a biting accusation. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry and completely break down. The beautiful, glittering ring on your left ring finger, only there for a few weeks at this point, suddenly seemed to weigh you down, “you knew and you didn’t say anything. You let me walk in and see that. H-how long?”

“I know it seems bad,” she seemed genuinely upset as you looked at her, your voice cracking with each word until you were almost broken, “but I-I swear I’ve never seen him with another woman or man before. H-he said she was here for business. I didn’t think...I didn’t…”

“Do you mean it?” an ugly sob racked your body as you tried to figure out if it was possible that this was some sort of business venture, that perhaps this was still some odd part of the mission. But even though you prided yourself on being an eternal optimist, you knew this wasn’t what it was. No, despite what the world may or may not have known, Jack had always - always - promised that he would never kiss, touch, or bed another in furtherance of work, a mission, anything. He hadn’t been lying then...or perhaps he had been the entire time, “Ginger, please tell me you mean it. I can’t have my heart broken again.”

“I swear it,” she promised and you could tell she meant it. Either this was the first time, and he’d been careless in not getting caught, or it had been a time thing in a slew of many, and he just happened to be careless for once. You nodded slowly before moving to push past her, “I’m so sorry…”

“Me too,” you whispered as you left without another word, not even bothering to hide the fact that you were sobbing. Your whole world was slowly crashing down around your shoulders; each step away from the building was a fateful reminder that nothing would be the same. 

All you wanted to do was go home and forget; forget that you’d seen anything, forget that Jack had betrayed you, forget that anything from your seemingly idyllic life was out of place. 

But he was everywhere, in everything. From the pictures that greeted you as soon as you walked into your apartment to the touches of decor that were pointedly him, to the clothes that hung in your closet, to the bedsheets that smelled like him. Everything. 

In a fit of rage, you grabbed a few of the pictures off the wall and smashed them into a hundred, million tiny pieces onto the floor. Soon enough, the images of the two of you were distorted by the tiny shards of glass - or perhaps it was the tears that you kept blinking back. 

Thoroughly exhausted and wanting to sleep this day away, praying you’d wake up and find it was all a dream, you tore the blankets and sheets and pillows off the bed and threw them into a pathetic heap on the floor. At least his smell didn’t linger on the mattress. But before you were satisfied, you went into the closet and followed suit with his clothes, refusing to let yours rest next to his any longer. 

Maybe it was rash - dramatic and immature - but you didn’t care. Jack had broken the one rule, the one promise, he swore he would always keep. He had been a good man, an honorable man, and you thought you could always trust him. Now you just had one lingering question left.

Where did the lies start and stop?

Before you dragged your aching bones to the bare mattress, you pulled off the engagement ring and set it on the kitchen countertop, right where he would easily see it. 

You were a believer in second chances, in giving people the benefit of the doubt but this...this was exactly what it appeared to be. You knew that deep down. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was dark when Jack came home, not that he had been expecting you to be up and waiting for him. It was nearing three in the morning and he knew you to work that day. The crunch underneath his boots caught him off guard and he quickly flipped on the light switch to see what the disturbance was. 

A frown crossed his features when he saw that it was several photographs of the two; his heart leapt into his throat as he worried that something had happened or someone had broken in. 

But no - nothing else looked out of place, and the door had been locked and the windows were closed. No signs of any type of break in. Huffing lightly, he stepped further inside, stripping off his boots once he was past the glass shards, a gleaming from the kitchen caught his eye. His brow furrowed as he walked over and saw that it was...your engagement ring. 

His heart raced as he swallowed down the lump in his throat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What was going on?

Padding quietly down the hallway, he nervously pushed open the door to your bedroom, and spied you sleeping, curled up in a ball, with no blanket or pillows. As he stepped inside, he almost tripped over the mess of sheets and clothes on the floor. 

Oh no.

The door creaked slightly, causing you to wake up from your slight slumber. You hadn’t really been sleeping, not much anyways, The little bit of reprieve you’d found were plagued with nightmares and bad dreams.  You sat up slowly, hunched over and pathetic as you wiped at your eyes. 

“Sugar...are you upset with me?”

“How long Jack?” your throat was dry and scratchy as you stared directly at him, trying to read his body language. It was dark, but the light was filtering in behind him and casting him in an odd haze. He stiffened immediately when he realized you knew. 

“You don’t-”

“How long Jack?” you repeated, this time more firmly and with more conviction, “was she the first? Or another in a long line of many?”

“Listen you have to-”

“Answer the question, sugar,” every word was filled with venom as you wished he could scream and shout or something - and tell you that you were mistaken and that there really was a truthful explanation for what you had witnessed, “was it for work? Because I will still be pissed because we agreed that it would never come to that, but at least what I would understand. Please tell me that’s what it was.”

“I…” he started and quickly cut him off. He wished he could lie to you and tell you it was for work. Gods, he had already been lying to you, but for some reason he couldn’t do it anymore. You nodded as the tears streamed down your face, “I love you. I really do, and you’re the only one I truly want. Please understand that, sugar.”

“I wish I could believe you,” your voice was a small, pathetic thing, “I really do. Because I loved you - I still do. I thought...all this time, all these years, that we were building a future - our future - together. I know things haven’t been easy for you, Jack, I know. But I thought...I thought this one thing I could trust you with. It was the only thing I asked of you.”

“I love you, that is one thing that is true,” he tried to take a step closer, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“No, you don’t,” you whispered, “if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have done this. To lie to me, to sneak around. How many others were there? How long? You know, it even would have hurt less if you’d say something like hey, I want to have sex with other people or hey, can we try this or that. But to not say anything and do this? That’s the worst. When were you going to tell me? We were supposed to get married, Jack. Married.”

“I know,” he took in a long rattling breath, “I...I wish I had a good answer for you, but you have to-”

“The fact that you have nothing to say for yourself, tells me everything I need to know,” you spat at him, “I wish I knew what it was. Was it me? W-was...was I not enough for you?”

“You are everything-”

“Yeah?” you asked bitterly as he nodded, “then why did you do this Jack? Why? Why? Please just say something. Anything.”

“Sugar…”

“Don’t,” it was a soft, broken whisper as you shook your head, “don’t ever call me that again. Just get out. Please. Just leave.”

“Listen, you have to do-”

“I have to do nothing, Jack Daniels,” you laughed bitterly, “but you need to leave. Just go. I...you can come and get your things when I’m at work. I just...I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Okay,” he agreed quietly, turning around to head, lingering in the doorway for a moment, “I am sorry, you know.”

“Sorry for what you did, or sorry I found out?” he remained silent at your question as you shook your head, “just go Jack.”

“I love you…”

“Just go,” you cried softly, “get out and never look back. I never want to see you again.”

“Sugar-”

“Get out,” it wasn’t filled with emotions or tears, no - that’s not what broke his heart further, it was that fact you sounded so empty, so hollow, “goodbye Jack Daniels.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[moxfirefly]

Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!

As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.

TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.

Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.

But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.

But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.

It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.

Surrounded by normalcy.

And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...

But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.

His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.

And fuck, three months of you away?!

Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.

Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?

He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!

It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.

He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.

Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.

It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.

You’re there.

Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.

“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.

“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?

“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.

You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.

Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.

“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.

“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.

“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.

Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.

Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.

He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.

There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.

He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.

The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.

You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.

So you do.

Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.

That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.

You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.

Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.

You say it too, against his skin.

Where you wish you could stay everyday.

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

shatter us || tom holland x reader

a/n: hello gorgeous people. this is not the cutesy road trip fic that I have planned - the follow up for a luminous love. but instead just a little sprinkle, little dash of some angst for your casual sunday. yikes, I hope you all still enjoy (still ends fluffy bc I'm not a heathen...yet) 

since I love hearing your thoughts so much, is there anything you’d personally like to see from me, alongside what i’m working on? hit me up and I might just work on some fic for you, got a full week off work so let me know! as always, stay wonderful and come chat! x 

word count: 2166 warnings: we do have a swear and some smashed glass, some sad thoughts but nothing too dark or dangerous - very tame summary: emotional outbursts lead to some much needed conversations

6:10.

There was a lack of chirping birds that morning. The sun stayed behind the clouds, keeping itself out of view. The air cold and stale. Sheets were pulled taught at either end of the bed. Two bodies, usually yearning to be held in each other’s embrace clutching instead to their designated edges.

You were fearful to exhale your breath, one small movement and this frozen moment could all come crashing down around you. As though you were stood at the very edge of a precipice, toes hanging over the side. One tiny blow away from tumbling into a dark abyss.

Before you thought your chest was going to explode from the inside, you felt the springs next to you dip only slightly. The signs of someone moving.

He hadn’t moved all night. You wondered if he’d managed to catch any sleep at all before you felt the bed dip further as he untangled his legs from the sheets, heading into the en suite bathroom.

You reached a hand out from your cocoon, your phone lighting up as you tilted it towards you.

10 missed calls.

15 texts

You’d told your best friend that you’d screwed everything up, unwilling to reveal what happened before you let your tears lull to into a restless sleep.

You weren’t sure at what time Tom joined you. Sighing, you heard the click of your phone locking as you lay it back down.

Tom comes back out of the bathroom, slowing slightly as he sees you curled up in the corner of the bed instead of star-fished or snuggling into his pillow as you usually did when he left the room – resulting in playfighting or cuddles.

“I think we need to talk.”

His voice was rough and scratchy. You slid yourself up against the headboard, pulling your jumper sleeves over your hands and nodding in agreement. You couldn’t speak yet, you weren’t sure you knew how. Words refusing to form as your stomach churned.

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs then.” He grabs a hoodie of his own before leaving the room, you could hear him moving through the flat.

You take a few deep breaths, taking note of the room around you. glancing over the space you had shared for the past year and a half. Something told you this could be the last morning you’d wake up here.

Exhaling, you slide your feet onto the golden wood crossing the room to reach the bathroom. You splash water over your face, fluffy towel ready to catch the droplets before finishing up.

“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself as you push against the sink counter and head for the kitchen.

////

Tom fills up the kettle, unfocussed eyes staring into the distance. He put it back on its stand before flicking down the switch.

A hand ran through his messy bed head of curls. This was all so wrong, all of it. He told you that he wanted to talk but as he routinely made two teas, he didn’t have a clue what he was going to say. But he began filming in four days and you both had to fix this tension between you. For the first time, you were both unsure of what the outcome would be. 

Taking a small brush and pan over to the wall he brushes up the broken glass, hearing it tinkle as he gathers it into the pan, releasing it into the bin, frustrated at his own outburst the previous night.

He’s against the counter stirring the two mugs when you walk in. He motions to the sofa.

He takes you in as you stand in front of him, shyer and more nervous that he’d ever seen you. He hated that you felt like that. Drowning in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his cotton shorts, your face was tinged pink and he hoped that you hadn’t been crying in the short time it took to make your teas.

You gave a small smile of thanks at the steaming mug he slid across to you before heading to the sofa. You rolled your shoulders, caressing the mug between your hands - letting the heat warm them.

“I’m so sorry-“

“I’m so sorry-“

You both blurt out simultaneously. His eyes twinkle slightly, as he huffed out a slight chuckle.

“Well that’s a good start at least.”

You nod, stifling a nervous laugh, mouth upturned. He offers you to go first. You take a sip of your tea, letting it soothe your nauseous stomach.

Swallowing, you trace your finger around the rim of your mug. Closing your eyes for a single moment before staring into his, so wide and filled with hurt.

Last night played on repeat in your head.

“Stop saying you love me as a response for when things get too hard - it’s just words Tom! Just because you love me doesn’t mean that I feel loved by you!”

Tom’s mouth fell open, eyes wide as he stood transfixed on you. You stared at him in shock, completely taken aback by your own outburst. The room was blanketed in an unforgiving silence, your voice wobbling at the building honesty that had come tumbling out.

“Wow. I offered to fly you out to be with me before filming officially started for fucks sake! You declined! Was that not enough for you?! Does that not show you I love you? My career is important and I’m sorry that annoys you!”

“That is not what I meant Tom, and you know it.”

His brows furrow, eyes darkening with anger. You wanted to straighten them out with your fingers, lightly gliding over the uncontrollable hairs and press a feathery light kiss in the space between them. Something you usually did when he was tense or frustrated.

“Please, enlighten me then.”

“Fly across the other side of the world to do what?! Sit in silence in a room with you as you read over scripts with Harry. Sit alone in a room whilst you meet the cast and team, stay away so you can go for your lush dinners and lunches. And then fly out when things get underway, that’s unless I want to sit in your trailer day in and day out. I love you Tom and I support you and I think you’re brilliant - I always will think that. But being your hidden girlfriend is exhausting and lonely, and I don’t know if I can do it!”

You’ve never been this vulnerable with Tom before. You’d never let on before how hard it could be sometimes being his girlfriend, how utterly alone you felt. How much of a stranger you felt in regards to Tom and parts of his life.

“Then don’t! If you hate it so much, then don’t be my girlfriend then. Problem solved!”

You gasp slightly, standing completely rigid. Heart pounding in your ears, heat rising through your entire body. You can feel the moisture building behind your eyes, trying so hard to keep it at bay.

“Fine. Wow. Easy fix for the golden boy, got it.”

And with that you turn on your heel and head straight into the bedroom. Door slamming behind you.

Tom throws his beer bottle at the opposite wall. Hands going straight up to his face as he let out a cry of frustration. Glass shards littering the floor.

“Fuck!”

////

“I’m so sorry for saying what I said. It didn’t come out right and I don’t know, I think I was just being dramatic and anno-“

Tom cuts you off with a shake of his head, resting one hand on your leg.

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. My response was completely irrational, but you...you were honest and hurt and valid. Do not deny your emotions to make me feel better, that’s not going to fix this. You know I love you, you said it yourself, but you don’t feel loved - and that’s on me.”

You bite the inside of your lip, looking down into your swirling cup. Your heart was beating so fast, it was making you feel almost dizzy. 

“I feel pathetic, please let’s just forget it happened Tom.”

Tom takes the cup out of your hand, planting it on the coffee table in front of the couch. He pulls your legs that little bit closer, your body moving forward, closing the gap between you both.

“I can’t forget it. I’ve been playing it on repeat all night. Please just be honest with me. I want to listen. I want to understand.”

You exhale a shaky sigh,

“Sometimes it’s just so much harder than I ever thought it would be, Tom. I love how much you adore your job, you inspire me every single day as I watch you inspire millions of people. but sometimes I feel like an outsider looking in on your life. Instead of feeling like someone you want to share your life with, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate that.”

He nods, his forehead creasing slightly as he takes in your words, and presses for you to continue,

“And take away all that comes with your job. On the rare days when it’s just me and you, you make me feel so alive. I feel needed and wanted and loved. So loved. But it’s not enough for me to have a few gulps of that feeling. God, it sounds so selfish. I hear it from my own mouth and I sound ridiculous.”

You take a pause. wishing for your voice to straighten out. For that wobble to stop as you can see the concern on Tom’s face rising,

“Maybe there’s been a reason we’ve kept it a secret for so long, because you and I both know that the minute this gets out...everything is going to crumble beneath us, and I’m the one not going to be able to handle it.”

You let out a shaky breath, sniffling as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

When you didn’t start up again, Tom gave a deep sigh, before pressing ahead,

“I’ve been doing this all wrong. I thought keeping you out of things would protect you, we agreed on that being the best option. And in the beginning it was. The sneaking around, the constant phone calls, video calls, surprise visits - we did it all.”

You nod in agreement. Your heart sinking. Even though you’d brought it on yourself, letting your insecurities and loneliness take over - you still weren’t ready for the inevitable goodbye that was coming your way.

“But we’ve grown individually, and our relationship has grown. And yeah, there’s a part of me who still wants to keep you all to myself, I know what press and fans can be like. But you’re right.”

You look up at him through wet eyelashes. He catches a tear with his thumb, wiping it away from your cheek,

“I’m not losing you to my own fear. And you’re not losing me to yours.”

“Wait, what?” you whisper, confused.

“You need to talk to me. You need to tell me when I’m not pulling my weight in this relationship, when you’re feeling low like this. Sometimes I do get stuck in my own world a little...and you’re the one suffering for it.”

“So. You do still want me as your girlfriend?” More traitorous tears fall from your eyes, your body relaxing and therefore no longer willing to keep them at bay.

“Oh my god I can’t believe I said that. Of course, I do! There’s no still wanting about it, I’ve always wanted you. Never questioned it for a second. The real question is, do you want to make this public? I want this to be your choice. It’s going to be crazy, but I promise you, I’ll be beside you every single step of the way. I won’t make you feel like you’re on your own again, I promise. Or, if you feel like it’s too much…then we figure something else out.”

He cups the side of your face, thumb still trailing after the tear tracks.

“I’m just scared that it’ll break us, Tom. But we can’t keep going as we are.”  

He nods in understanding,

“I won’t let it break us. You have me, all of me, for however long you want.”

You pushed your forehead against his shoulder, his hands coming up to cradle the back of your head as you curl into him.

He can feel your body quivering against him as you finally let yourself feel all the emotions you’d gone through in the past 12 hours, feelings you’d been hiding for far longer than that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise. I think we needed this. Now we can be better, work harder on loving each other properly. Communicate.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You whisper into his chest, “I thought I’d ruined everything.”

He squeezes his eyes clothes. pressing his lips to the top of your head, releasing soft kisses in between every couple of words,

“No, you’ve not ruined anything. All you’ve done is remind me how much I truly love you. And every day I promise I’m going to show you just how much.”

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU 

All Parts

Part 20:

As it turns out, finally finding out the identity of your soulmate was not an easy piece of information to sleep on.

Bakugou had hung up hours ago, hopefully to listen to your advice, and since then you’d done nothing but search up his name. Obsessively. Since apparently that’s who you were now when it came to him. 

You scoffed as you read another shitty headline.

Pro Dynamite saves the day but recklessly endangers 17 innocents in Hosu - Where is the line between hero and villain?

What follows is another biased recap of events that happened over a year ago: Bakugou had stopped an entire group of high-powered villains but was only able to do so by exploding the entire top floor of the building they were hiding out in. He successfully wounded, incapacitated, and captured all of the targeted criminals, but blast debris and smoke inhalation harmed civilians that had chosen not to evacuate.

You rolled your eyes, hardly able to understand why it seemed every news outlet was blaming the injuries on him. From videos and news coverage it seemed like there was no other option Bakugou could have taken, and he’d nearly sacrificed his own life with the blast. You wanted to scream. 

They should be fucking thanking him! You thought.

At least- you did. Until you saw the clip.

Further in the article was a link- a simple, deceptively innocent link that led to a horrifying video.

It was taken on a hand-held camera, the lens pointed at the floor as the recorder enters an alley slowly. They duck behind a garbage bin and tilt the camera up, just minutely, and it falls on Bakugou who’s leaning against the alley wall. He was clearly tired, deep-seated bags rooted under his eyes, with one arm in a sling and the other holding his phone. The person recording held the camera still, bated breath, and kept themselves hidden. Whoever it was, they obviously didn’t want Bakugou to see them recording him.

“No- fucking- I know, Shitty Hair, Jesus!” Bakugou roars, and then his face screws up, and he rubs at his chest. “You think I don’t fucking know? I fucked up! I did! I know, but I just- I couldn’t stop!”

There’s silence again and Bakugou rolls his eyes at whoever is on the other side of the phone.

“You don’t- don’t fucking say that! Of course it fuckin’ matters! I shouldn’t of fucking let them fire me up like that!” Bakugou coughs, voice hoarse as he continues yelling. “They just kept runnin’ their fuckin’ mouths about me being a villain and I was so fuckin’ angry I couldn’t stop- I knew there were people still in there and I didn’t care! I didn’t fucking care!” 

It’s quiet again, the only sound is Bakugou’s ragged breaths. Suddenly his face screws up again, this time not in pain but in anger. Rolling, hot, boiling anger that sets his jaw back and pulls his eyebrows in and darkens his expression into something terrifying. His eyes are voids, shadowed by the dim light of the alley, swirling like vacuous black holes set into his face. He looks murderous- nearly vibrating with rage as he shakes his head so violently you’re surprised he doesn’t snap his neck. Bakugou slams a hand against the alley’s bricks, leaving a steaming indent in the shape of a fist.

“I should’ve killed them.” Bakugou seethes, voice deep and dark like solid steel boiled down. “ Every last fucking one of them. “

 Then he hangs up, violently, and explodes the phone in his grip. The recorder startles, knocking loudly into the garbage can in front of them. 

“Who in the fuck-” Bakugou screams, voice rolling thunder as he launches himself toward the bin.

All you see is Bakugou’s snarling face, a flash of blinding orange light, the sound of a scream, and then a black screen as the recording cuts.

With a sick fascination, you rewind the video, just a few seconds, pausing on the still shot of Bakugou’s face as it nears the camera. He looks senseless and demonic; mouth curled around too-sharp teeth, his jaw shadowed and angular- but it’s his eyes. It’s his eyes that scare you the most. 

Where they were black holes before, dark and empty and void, they’re raging fires now. Red, and dark, and angry like an infected wound, something volcanic and uncontainable rolling viscous and thick just beneath the surface. You’ve never seen anyone else with eyes like his- have never seen anything so hellish in your life. In that moment Bakugou doesn’t look human. He looks evil- like a vengeful war god slowly being consumed by his own bloodlust.

You shiver.

There’s-there’s nothing good about that video. It’s scary and frightening and you’ve never heard his voice sound like that. So angry and full of malice and hard around the edges- like every word is a pointed knife stabbing at you. The Bakugou in that video, his anger scares you more than any explosion of his ever could. 

You want to text him, want to beg him to explain, to say something that will make the sick in your stomach stop festering like a poison. You don’t though. He’s injured again. Recovering again, just like in the video- and no matter how many questions are rattling around in your head, they’re nowhere near as important to you as his health. 

The diseased ill in your stomach didn’t let up though. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t get the look of his eyes out of your head. He looked soulless. Dark and unreachable and so very angry that it scared you. Terrified you. You’d dreamed your whole life of a happy future with a gentle soulmate, but you couldn’t seem to find Bakugou in that picture anymore. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

You closed your laptop, rubbing at eyes that were still puffy from earlier. Your heart was ripped raw, mind rattling in your skull, as your eyes burned. You laid back on your pillow, shutting your eyes and trying to forget the image of your soulmate eyes, untethered and feral as he attacked. 

--/--

Morning came and you didn’t feel any better. You still felt weightless, disconnected and confused by everything around you. 

You stalled through your morning routine, taking an extra long shower, sipping slowly at coffee you would have normally inhaled. It was a Saturday, and usually those were relaxing, but it didn’t feel that way this time. You were still unsettled by that video- that scream and the sound of it abruptly ending as an explosion drowned it out. It was like a horror movie, and you seemed to be caught in the middle of it. 

You understood now- why Bakugou didn’t want to tell you who he was. That video was pretty easy to happen across, even if you just did a little big of digging into Bakugou. It was a stain on his record and you supposed he was right, after all- everything did change the second he told you he that he was a hero. That he was Dynamite.

You sighed, rubbing at your aching eyes. You knew that you had to call him, you just wish it didn’t have to be this complicated. 

Bakugou was calling you before you even set your phone back down.

“Hey.” He said, voice still weak and uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hi.”

“Don’t- fuck, don’t sound like that.” Bakugou sighs a shaking breath, barely masked frustration lacing his tone. “I- you fuckin’ saw it didn’t you?”

“Yes.” 

“That’s-” He starts, and he sounds so desperate it nearly tears your heart in two. “I never wanted you to fuckin’ see that! That’s not- I wasn’t- that’s not me!”

“It was you, though!” You raise your voice. “In the video! Bakugou- you said you wanted to kill people, multiple people, and then you attacked someone! Without even taking a second to think about it! You were just so angry, so fucking furious and mad and y-you didn’t even sound like you! That kind of anger- it’s fucking terrifying, you know that?” 

He’s quiet, and you think you can still hear the beeping of the machine from last night.

“That- it wasn’t- I didn’t,” He struggles, voice cracking. “The camera. Not the person- I- fuck- I didn’t attack the person! Just smashed the fuckin’ camera!”

“You still jumped at them! You know how scary that must have been?” Your fingers shake as you grip your phone. “It’s- they shouldn’t have been there, fine, whatever, but it’s a fuckin’ civillian! It’s your job- as the ridiculously over-powered hero, from what I’ve seen- to protect them! Not attack them!” 

Bakugou says nothing. Minutes pass and you think you hear a poorly-masked sniffle.

“You’re mad at me.” He says, simple and desolate like he’s already convinced himself of it. “Shoulda known you would be.”

“No it’s- I am. I am mad- but I don’t,” You pause, trying to find your words. “I just- I feel like I don’t know you any more! I thought I did? At least a little bit- but now it’s- you were so angry, and I know that must’ve been a bad day from the looks of it but- your eyes. It was your eyes! That kind of anger- that hate- it doesn’t just happen in a fuckin’ day, Bakugou!” 

You hear a choked sound, something tiny and small and caught in the back of his throat, and the grinding of Bakugou’s teeth. 

“I-I can’t. I know- I fuckin’ know, okay?” He bites out. “I- just. Stay. Please- it was- you were supposed to be fuckin’ different! It’s not- I would never- you weren’t supposed to know.”

Something in his voice sounds broken. He’s screaming, tearing his throat just like he always did, but it didn’t feel the same. Bakugou had never asked you for anything before- he’d let you call the shots, let you talk his ear off and bother him, but he’d never, not once, in the entire time you’d known him, asked you for something. 

Your answer was simple- it never really was a choice after all. You would’ve never left, didn’t even think you could at this point; but something had to change. You had to make sure he understood.

“Bakugou- I- I would’ve never left. Not over this. Not over anything, probably.” You swallow thickly, blinking away tears. “But I can’t- I won’t accept the way things were before. When I ask you something, you need to answer me. Honestly and completely, from now on. No more secrets. Ever.” 

He just agrees, something deep and raspy and desperate as it filters through the phone. 

“So I need you to answer me, now,” You begin, taking a shaky breath and steeling your nerves. “How long are you going to be in the hospital for?”

“I-what?”

“Just answer.” 

“It’s-I’m- two days, alright. Two more fuckin’ days on watch and then I’m out.”

“Okay.’ You nodded. “Where are you staying- what hospital?”

“Why?”

“I’m coming to visit. We-we need to talk more and I can’t do it over the phone- I won’t do it over the phone.” You tried to make your voice stronger than you felt. “So, if you feel up to it, I’ll visit. If not, don’t text me until you are. T-that’s- that’s the way we fix this. The only way.”

Bakugou was quiet again, breathing in silence until a cough ripped through his chest.

“I’m- Jaku City. That’s where I am.” He finally says, voice smaller than anything you were used to. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay.” You say, still trying to catch your breath. “I- I think I need some time. I’ll call you when I’m almost there, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You hang up, fingers shaking as they hit the end call button.

The conversation was short- so short, and hardly even covered anything, but you just couldn’t take it any longer. When all you knew was the sound of his voice, it was a lot easier to get a read on him and what he was feeling. But it wasn’t that way anymore. You knew his face and his smile and his eyes from those clips and pictures and videos you’d seen all night. 

Hearing his voice wasn’t enough to tell you who he was anymore. You wouldn’t be able to read him- not without seeing those angry red eyes.

///-////

whewwwww angstY ;)))

[bubble-booty-cuties]

Yesterday, the bindings on Naoto's ass came a bit loose, which seemed to distract Senpai when she subtly probed him for info (read: had a steamy makeout/petting session with him at school). Thinking she could get him to slip up and reveal something, Naoto not only ditched them entirely, she wore her tightest, ass-huggingest pants. Unfortunately, she didn't how much the attention she's getting turned her on, or how sensitive her ass really was, until Senpai had gotten his hands on them.

Once again, I took this ask and turned it into something bigger, sorry if you were hoping for something else!

__________________________________

"Y-Yes Niijima-San.. Yes, I know.. I require a bit more time before I can show you anything concrete, but I promise you, I am very close to cracking this case wide open! I need only find my in, and I will have my suspect! Yes, I won't fail!" With a tap of her phone the call was ended, and Naoto looked straight ahead towards her destination.

Well, she tried to at least, currently she was doing her absolute best to turn invisible in the middle of a busy backstreet, and failing, unsurprisingly.

Even as she looked down low at the ground, hiding her face behind the rim of her hat, the echoes of her own high heels clacking against the stone ground reverberated loudly, and she could hear every one of her steps. Though she was having a bit of trouble, she'd quickly grown used to the shoes and her pace was quick, hoping to reach Leblanc with some ounce of dignity left, at least.

And why was she dressed in such eye catchingly blue, high heeled shoes? Well, it was to accentuate the rest of her outfit, something Ann had managed to drill into her when she'd made her purchase the shoes on one of their outings. For the shoes matched her dark blue button up shirt, blending wonderfully with her own hair. And they even matched her deep blue lipstick covered lips.

Of course, that was just about the most normal part of her outfit. Foregoing her chest binder once again, her plump, perky breasts bounced freely with each long stride of her long legs, straining against her shirt and revealing her deep, creamy pale valley of cleavage that not only stretched out her shirt, but pressed her erect nipples against the soft fabric, making each move a slight, shiver inducing feeling of fabric against sensitive nubs.

Naoto cursed silently as another man passing by tripped and stared like she was the first woman he'd ever seen, his head following her even as she passed by, no doubt looking at her massive, wobbly globes of meaty ass hang out of her extremely tiny, slutty jean booty shorts. Did she forget to mention the shorts? How silly of her, it wasn't as if she felt like she was walking around in nothing but a thong in public with the chill to match.

And speaking of thongs, hers hugged her hips high above where the shorts ended, putting together the perfect slutty image that she regretted she pulled off so well. Damn her naturally curvy figure. Damn her perky, ballooning tits that even Makoto looked jealous of when she saw how they naturally stayed perky. And damn her massive, round, bouncy butt that she could literally feel jiggling with every step!

Why couldn't things have been easy and she was just small? No, she had to be short AND stacked. Even her thighs were plump and meaty, something that made all kinds of men stare. She swore her face would catch fire if one more man whistled after her. But she was so close, so close to Leblanc and so close to making Senpai confess to his crimes!

That's what all of this was for! She had to keep reminding herself, even as her shorts rode up between her perfectly meaty, fat, giant cheeks like a second skin, like a thong, and even as she convinced herself that NO she wasn't wet. You have no proof otherwise! Senpai's weakness, that's what this was! He talked more when she'd dressed like this, talked more when he had her on the ropes doing lewd things to her, talked more into her ear while he was fingering her holes then he ever had before!

That was her chance, she had to make him talk through any means necessary! And if that meant dressing like a five dollar whore for him to toy with while he finally slipped up and spoke of his status as the head of the Phantom Thieves, then goddamnit that's what she was going to do! She was a Shirogane Detective, and she would do what it takes!

"But maybe I should have at least brought a coat.." She muttered to herself as she finally made it to Leblanc's front door, the sign reading closed, but the lights on inside. She'd texted him, told him she'd be coming over, so surely the door was unlocked? At least that meant she wouldn't have to be gawked at by men on the street, but perhaps the alternative of being toyed with and.. Licked was the wasn't the lesser of the two evils..

Bells rung out above her head as she pushed her way inside, making sure the door behind her shut and locked, just so she and him were left alone, and no one walked in while she was dressed this way.

"Senpai? I'm, um, I'm here!" The detective however got no response, the cafe lit up, but seemingly quiet.

"Senpai?" She called out again, hoping for a reply. With a cautious step, Naoto stepped deeper into the cafe and towards the stairs of the attic, where her suspect's room was.

"Hello? The door was unlocked so I let myself in!" She called out just as she made it to the top of the stairs, just to see.. Nothing. The young man was nowhere in sight. Not even his feline companion was in his room.

"What? But he knew I was coming over. Perhaps I should try his cell-Ah!!"

"Why don't we skip to the fun part?"

Naoto squealed yelled in fright as she felt the large, warm hand of her Senpai suddenly smack grip her bubble butt as hard as he could, his other arm snaking around her slim waist and hugging her back closely to his chest, and she didn't even hear his footsteps coming up the stairs! H-How did he sneak up on her?!

"S-Senpai! How did you-? N-No, it doesn't matter, I've come to talk with you!" Naoto tried her best to relax against the young man, but she usually found it difficult when he was groping and mauling her fat ass like a stress toy.

"You came to talk," He started, plainly, evenly, even as he felt p her curves. He simply talked gently into her ear. "You came to talk, dressed in this?"

"I-I.." Naoto froze, looking down at her own clothes, her own perky breasts, feeling her own heat racing. Was it excitement? Was it worry? Why were things never easy with him..? "I need to ask you a few questions, S-Senpai.."

"Sure." Was all she heard as he began kissing the side of her neck, one of his hands snaking down between her thighs in the way it always did when they were alone, in the way that made her spread her legs for him instinctively.. Pushing her pelvis against his hand as if to invite him inside of her..

N-No! Focus! The bluenette detective bit her lip, her face bright red once again, and she tried her best to focus on anything but the pleasure of his fingers.

"Senpai, where were you on-Aah~!" His fingers hooked against her inner walls, and she was gently lead to his bed in the corner of the room, pushed slowly, her high heels clacking loudly. "Wh-Where were you on the night o-of October 8th?"

The young man froze for a second, his fingers paused in her folds, before continuing the next, so quickly she almost didn't catch it, but she did, and she wasn't sure what emotion filled her in that moment.

"With my friends." Was all he said as they both got on their knees on the bed.

"Wh-Where, Senpai?"

"Here and there."

Naoto had to actively rip her mind away from the hope that he was going to bend her over and eat her out again, she had to stop herself from looking forward to the feeling of his face between her- Stop! She's so close! She can feel it!

"Plea-Mmh~! Please answer the question, S-Senpai!" She needed to know! She.. Fuck, why was it so hard to focus when he was so close?! She couldn't even think of what else to ask, her practiced questions, her traps she had thought up for days! Not when he was so close to bending her over once again, not when she wanted to feel his tongue slither passed her tight pucker once more!

That feeling of his tongue inside her ass, it was.. Damnit she'd resorted to fingering her own backdoor on nights he'd teased her just to leave her alone! Her face burned, her lower lips burned with need even more, and all she could remember was that she needed to know the answer to that one damn question!

And then he stopped, with them both on their knees on the bed, he'd stopped his fingers from toying with her, and he pulled away from her sensitive neck to talk into her ear.

"How about a wager?" Naoto's eyes shot open from their clenched shut state in surprise. "If you win, I'll answer any question you want with the truth-"

The detective's heart raced in her chest, the whole truth, there, right there within her grasp.

"And if I win, you have to answer any question I want, with the full truth."

"Wh-What's the wager..?" Whatever it was, she needed to try, she's so close, she could feel it.

"Simple. The first one to cum loses." Excited butterflies bubbled up in her tummy, but just so did trepidation. She'd never made him cum, he'd only ever toyed with her, made her scream, or made her.. Make a mess..

"B-But how am I supposed to.. I-I've never made you.." She trailed off, the words burning in her mouth, but she was far to embarrassed to tell him to his face she wanted to know how to make him cum.

"It wouldn't be fair if we weren't both having fun," He whispered even closer, making her shiver and squirm in place. "So you're going to bend over, and I'm going to fuck you."

"Wh-What?!" Naoto wasn't stupid, she was a Shirogane detective for christ's sake, she had questioned why he'd never tried to go the next step, why he'd never.. Bent her over and fucked her. And on those steamy nights alone, she'd fantasized about it, wondered what it was like..

"Your choice. You can leave if you want." His hands slid down her sides to grab her wide hips, pulling her plump, jiggly ass back against his covered cock, straight up showing her that he was ready to rail her, much to her burning hot embarrassment. "Or, you can get on all fours, and I'm going to rail your ass 'till you're squealing."

He was plain, as usual, and she doubted he was much for negotiating his terms right now. The choices were simple. Leave, or let him fuck her from behind. The choice was obvious.

Slowly, on shaky legs and arms, Naoto leaned forward onto all fours on the bed, laying her well endowed chest down low on the bed, and raising her extra meaty, plump ass high up into the air, those tiny booty shorts riding up deep between the valley of her ass, both hefty cheeks wobbling as she got comfortable in her new position.

Looking back over her shoulder, Naoto's pretty face looked more feminine then ever as she gently held the pillow for comfort, her hat hiding one eye as the other looked at him with excitement and worry. And her voice broke the tension in a way that reminded him who she was, so soft and girly.

"P-Please be gentle, S-Senpai..~"

Joker's cock nearly broke passed his belt as all the blood in his body raced to his appendage at once, his cool guy act all but gone and replaced with pure, red hot horny at the sight of that massive fucking ass wobbling like jello on one of the cutest girls he's ever met. How could she expect him to be gentle after that?!

"S-Senpai~!" Naoto squeaked out as she felt the man smack her ass as hard as he could, he heart beating out of her chest as that feeling of pleasure from a spank came back 10 fold. But she wasn't focused on that. No, she was focused on the fat, raging, throbbing, veiny slap of meat that just slapped down on her ass with a weighty thud, the first cock she'd ever seen in person and it looked hard enough to cut glass, and felt like a bat as it slapped down between her warm cheeks.

Th-That was going in her backdoor? It was throbbing and twitching with need, and it looked so huge, thick and long! And it was so hot! Naoto already felt heated and steamy in the young man's bed, her cheeks lightly peppered with beads of sweat, but the warmth between her cheeks now was like an oven with that fat cock squished between them.

And it was squished between them, sandwiched in between those meaty buns like it belonged, the first thing she'd felt him do was press his cock deeper in her newly slippery valley of heat, and now the head of his cock was almost the only thing visible as it poked out passed her cheeks and over her lower back.

Naoto bit her lip to fight back the adorable little noises she threatened to make as she felt her Senpai grab her asscheeks, squishing her globes together like balls of dough, with his veiny cock right in the middle. And finally, she felt her body lightly rock on the bed as he began thrusting his cock between her sweat slicked cheeks.

"Ahaaa~! Senpai~!" She could feel his thrusts grow faster between her cheeks, and she could only think about how her Senpai was using her pillowy butt like an onahole! B-But, she remembered the wager, if she could m-make him cum first, then she'd win!

With a peptalk and hope not a single soul could see her besides the obvious, Naoto braced herself against the bed and did what she'd seen Ann and even Futaba do a number of times before.. With a bounce of her extra wide birthing hips, Naoto started twerking her massive fat ass on her Senpai's c-cock! Each and every twerk of her hips made her ass jiggle and ripple like two massive water balloons, her cheeks clapping against his hips heftily as he let go of her and let her work.

Naoto had never felt this way before, the embarrassment was like a forest fire against her pretty face, and she'd wondered if she ever saw herself doing something so.. so.. Lewd! But, the moment she heard the deep, masculine, pleasured grown of the young man behind her, Naoto felt.. Sexy.. She felt good knowing her extra plump rear was good for something other then ripping open her favorite trousers.. That groan was from her twerking on her Senpai's dick, from her making him feel good, and she just couldn't stop herself from slipping her own hand down the front of her shorts, toying with herself at the feeling of his cock between her sweaty cheeks.

The plapping of her cheeks against his hips echoed in the room as the young man groaned in pleasure, and once more the harsh sound of him smacking her fat ass and her high pitched squeal filled the room instead.

"A-Aaah~! I-It's okay, S-Senpai~! You can c-.. Cum whenever you w-want~!" Naoto tried to sound sexy, anything she could to make him cum early, to win the wager, but one look back at that throbbing beast between her cheeks and the look in his eyes made her realize he wasn't anywhere close to being done.

Suddenly, Naoto felt the man pull his cock free from her her warmth and felt him grab her booty shorts, yanking the poor excuse for pants down around her thighs and down onto the bed below, leaving her extra fat ass bare of all but her tiny blue thong that couldn't hope to hide her jiggly cheeks, let alone the cute little twitching pucker between them.

"W-Wait, S-Senpai-!" Naoto squeaked in ways she didn't wanna think about tonight, her voice high and feminine, pretty and girly, and she sounded so needy it hurt to think about. But what else was she supposed to do when she felt the tip of her Senpai's cock slid up and down her cheeks, pressing lightly against the fabric between his cock and her pink ring, as if taunting her.

"Senpai, pl-please, just-" Naoto pushed her face in deeper to the pillow when she felt him grab her thong and pull it out from between her cheeks, not even taking them off, just pulling the small blue string to the side, catching on her plump cheek. And with two jiggly handfuls, the young man pulled her cheeks apart and once again was greeted with a front row seat of her needy, wet, twitching holes.

"P..Please don't stare Senpai.." Naoto's gasping breaths were quick and uneasy as the gravity of her position finally set in, and she knew her Senpai was looking at at her little backdoor, with his member hard and waiting for it's chance to enter inside of her.

"You're so pretty, Naoto."

It was those simple, quiet words that made Naoto push her face into her pillow in embarrassment, warmth spreading in her chest at the compliment.

"It's why you can't expect me to hold back."

"A-Aaah~!" It was a sudden, warm, wet pressure against her back door that made her clenched eyes shoot open in surprise, the feeling of his broad, throbbing hard tip against her tight little pucker was as pleasurable as it was shocking. There was a slight amount of pain, a feeling of something so big pushing into her that only his tongue and her own fingers had gotten into, but it wasn't unbearable.

Certainly, that didn't stop Naoto from gripping the pillow and sheets as tight as she could as the pressure against her asshole only got stronger, and she felt the warm precum drip out onto her ring of muscle.

He was slow but firm, and just like that, with a wet little plop, Naoto's anal cherry was popped, and her tiny asshole spread and clenched around the tip of her Senpai's cock, feeling bigger then it ever had before.

"S-Senpaiii~!" There was a dull pain that mixed in with radiating warmth and pleasure, and the tip of his cock throbbed and twitched inside of her, completely still as the man stopped his push to slide his hands up from holding her cheeks open, to holding her wide, sultry hips like handle bars. And it was all the break she got before he started right back up again.

"Ha-Haaaa~! S-Senpai~! You're so-!" Deep, that's all she could think of, as inch after inch of thick, throbbing, veiny cock slid passed her stretched little ring and into her warm little asshole, inch after inch filled her and reached places she'd never felt before. There was pain, but it was deeply overshadowed by an intense, blistering hot feeling of pleasure and fullness as he plundered her insides, making sure she couldn't pull away even if she tried by pulling her wide hips back to meet his narrow ones, watching her extra fat ass swallow up his dick hungrily while she made the most adorable noises ever.

And just as she felt like his cock was reaching her very core, making her head spin, it stopped, and she felt her wobbly cheeks meet his with a small clap of flesh on flesh, his balls nuzzled comfortably against her wet, dripping lower lips and reminding her that it wasn't just an endless ladder, and her Senpai was officially balls deep in her rear.

He groaned, and twitched, and throbbed, and she could feel her own hole clenching and squeezing from the new and strange feeling of being absolutely filled. Naoto's eyes were practically rolled up into her head as she pressed her teeth into the pillow in front of her, and that was before the sudden and breathtaking feeling of him slowly pulling his cock back out of her almost sore already asshole.

Every inch leaving made her feel more empty then ever before, not unpleasant, but she had just gotten used to having his cock inside of her, and now he was pulling it out until just the tip was left inside. And then, with her legs quaking under her fat ass, she felt him press his hips forward once again, but gone was his gentle care and slow pace, instead she felt like he was trying to force his dick back inside of her, quicker, harder. Not so fast, but certainly enough to make her, well, scream.

"Aaaaaah~!! S-Senpai~!!" Her high pitched scream was muffled by the pillow in front of her mouth as he once again bottomed out sinde of her ass with another meaty clap of her ass, much louder and harsher then before, not taking a second of hesitation before she was ince again pleasurably tortured by that feeling of him pulling out of her ass inch by inch, just for him to actually pull her wide hips back to meet his hard, firm thrust.

All things considered it was a moderate pace, thrusting his hips forward in long, hard strokes while pulling her fat ass back to meet him halfway, a nice rhythm of her ass clapping heavily back against his pelvis, weighty cheeks rippling and wobbling like two massive waterballoons as he fucked her ass.

For Naoto however, the virgin felt like her asshole was on fire, and she had no idea this was a slow pace. Instead, Naoto's body rocked back and forth on the bed, her much smaller and lighter frame bouncing forward and back to the strong thrusts while she almost lost her mind to feeling of getting fucked like a bitch, face down with her ass raised high for her Senpai.

"H-Hhnnng~!! Hng~!! Hngk~!! Hnnngggk~!!" The pillow between her clenched teeth muffled her squeaks and squeals, her own juices pouring down her thighs as tears formed in her pretty blue-grey eyes. Oh god, she.. She was getting fucked by her Senpai, she was bent over on all fours getting fucked by her Senpai and she could barely remember where she was!

The harsh smack of his hand meeting her meaty bubble butt echoed even louder then the clapping of her cheeks, her globe of pale flesh rippling on impact and wobbling for seconds after as she squealed loudly at the feeling of getting fucked and spanked at the same time.

"Fuck! Your ass is so tight!"

Naoto almost didn't register it, her Senpai's voice was deep and guttural, labored as he pounded her ass like a slow drum, and she could feel herself shiver at the idea.. The idea he was feeling so good from using her hole~

And that's when she felt the young man grab her wrist, yanking it away from sheets and using it like like a handle, yanking her face up and out of the pillow while the other stabilized her rocking body. Of course, that just meant she couldn't hide her bright red, beautiful face in the sheets, or her pretty voice~

"Aaaaaah~!!! Ah~!! Ah~!! Ah~!! S-Senpai~!! Y-You feel s-so-Aaah~!!" She looked back at him, tears of pleasure shining in her eye as her pretty voice chimed so loudly when not muffled, and it was all that the young man needed to snap.

Grabbing her other arm, the young man pulled her entire body back against his hips and her fat ass onto his cock, slamming forward far harder then he had before, catching her completely by surprise as she was suddenly not in control of her own body at all, her arms bound and pulled behind her, and her whole body now at the mercy of her Senpai. The feeling was exciting yet scary, but not nearly as exciting as the sudden strength in his hips, slamming against her bubbly cheeks harder then she thought he could. And she soon realized she knew very little about how rough sex could actually be.

Suddenly her Senpai yanked his cock out of her already abused whole like it was stuck, before jamming his cock into her asshole like it barely fit before, yanking her entire body back to meet his extremely hard thrust before doing it again even faster, and it was this sudden and brutal pace that made Naoto's eyes roll up completely as her tongue hung out of her mouth.

"Senpai~!!! S-Senpai~!!! Ghaaaa~!! Haaaa~!!!" The young man's blistering pace turned her detective brain into a slutty mush as he brutalized her previously virgin asshole, her meaty, wobbly, planetary globes of creamy smooth flesh clapping like a drum so hard and fast it was a wonder if anyone could hear it outside, along with the squeaking bed and her slutty squeals of pleasure.

In the back of her mind she wondered if this was what it was like to be a whore, to be used by a man who wanted nothing more then to watch her fat cheeks jiggle and ripple around his cock while he ripped the screams of pleasure from her throat, just to dump the contents of his balls inside of her. It was the last vestige of her inquisitive mind, but even that soon shattered along with the buttons of her blue shirt, the small bits of plastic popping off as her plump, perky tits sprang free, swinging and bouncing freely beneath her chest as her whole body bounced and rocked back and forth.

Sweat dripped down each and every curve of her body, the heat in her core as sweltering as the heat around her, and it was there that the young man suddenly let go of her arms to grab a fist full of her partly long hair instead, her hat skewing forward on her head to cover her vision partly, rocking, bouncing, and teetering on her head dangerously. It was a wonder it hadn't already fallen off, but she wasn't focused on that, not when the brutal, feral pounding of her asshole made her clench hard around her Senpai's cock, and the moment she felt the man smack her fat cheek harder then it'd ever been smacked before, something inside of her snapped, broke, and suddenly she felt a rushing pleasure overtake her entire body and she saw stars for a few seconds. Not to mention her squeal.

"AAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhh~!!!!!" Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours as her entire body shook and writhed in pure, white hot, mind melting pleasure, and the feeling of her Senpai's cock still slamming in balls deep into her tiny clenching asshole only made it last longer, hit harder, and she could feel something spray across her meaty thighs and make a mess of the bed below her. Drool dripped down her chin and she felt a tear fall down her face as well, and every single fiber of her being was on fire.

And suddenly, it all stopped, and she felt the young man behind her let go of her hair and hips, yank his cock free from her little gaping asshole, and let her fall face down onto the bed, her shock overtaking her for a second as her body screamed out for more! There had to be more! He wasn't done yet right?! He hasn't cum, he can keep going!

Naoto looked back at the man with almost desperate surprise, rising to her hands and knees shakily, looking almost pleadingly at his lubed, throbbing, shining cock before looking up at him.

"S-Senpai, wh-what-?"

"You lost the wager."

What?

"You lost, and now you have to tell the truth."

"I-I don't under-"

"Tell me what you want."

What did she want? What did he mean what did she want?! She wanted to know.. something. She- What did she-? N-No, she wanted-! She wanted-!

"I-I want.. I want.."

"I-I want you to f-fuck my a-ass~!! P-Please Senpai, f-fuck my ass m-more~!!" Naoto needed more~! She felt so empty, shame and embarrassment made her face light up and almost steam, but she couldn't hold back anymore, not when she felt so lightheaded, not when his cock was still so hard~!

The needy detective bit her lip in desperation as she reached back and took both of her creamy globes in her hands, spreading her fat cheeks apart while looking back at her Senpai, panting and gasping while revealing her own tiny, winking, slightly gaped, slippery little backdoor~!

"Please~!! I-I need Senpai's c-cock~!!" She didn't care anymore~! She needed to be fucked again~! She needed that feeling of being filled, she needed to feel him fuck her ass so hard she could barely think~! "Fuck my ass~!!"

All it took was a grab of her wide hips and a slam of his as hard as he could before Naoto felt his balls slap against her dripping cunt, slamming in nuts deep into her needy asshole while her cheeks rippled from the meaty clap~! And Naoto once again made that slutty face she tried to hide, but she kept herself held up, didn't put her face in the pillow~! Her Senpai wanted to hear her, it's why he did it before right~? And she squealed just as loud as she did before~!

"Y-YEESS~!!!" There was no build up, Naoto's entire body rocked as hard as before as her Senpai fucked her fat ass, brutally railing her tiny little pink pucker like a jackhammer, but this time he was met by the slutty sight of the little detective throwing her fat ass back on his cock, bouncing her cheeks back against his hips and making sure every single inch was as deep as could possibly be!

"F-Fuck me~!! Aaaah~!!! Fuck me Senpai~!!" Stars exploded across her vision with every single brutal slam of his hips, and Naoto had the sluttiest look she'd ever had on her face, her eyes rolled up while she squealed happily out for more.

Naoto suddenly felt the young man's weight push harder into his thrusts as he reached forward and began mauling her fat tits, groping and squeezing them so hard she almost winced, from pain and pleasure both at once, and she could only grit her teeth s=to stop herself from screaming so loud it broke the window near them as he pulled and twisted one of her sensitive little nubs~!

"Tell me what you are!!"

What she was~? Naoto could barely remember her name, but she knew what she was, she was a whore~!! She was a nasty, needy whore~! That's what women like her were right~? Women who loved getting fucked up the ass like this were-

"I-I'm a whore~!! I'm a n-nasty whore~!!" Naoto couldn't hold on, she fell forward onto chest and her Senpai followed her down, slamming his cock down hard into her little asshole one last time like a feral beast, ruining her tiny previously virgin tunnel in a prone bone that left the room spinning for the little detective. Leverage worked against her in the best way possible, and her fat ass rippled and wobbled like two massive water beds, both meaty cheeks shining with sweat as he hooked her legs open permanently with his own, making sure she couldn't curl up even if she wanted to. And all she could feel was her Senpai's weight and heat on her body while she was fucked into a squealing puddle.

"You're my whore!! My personal whore!!"

"YES~!! I'm your whore~!!! I'm Senpai's anal whore~!!!" She could do nothing but lay there and take his cock like a whore, it's what she was~!! A whore for cock~!! Cum squirted out of her untouched cunt over and over all over her thighs and the sheets as he slammed in like a jackhammer, she swore she heard something under the bed break as she almost blacked out, screaming so loud she felt her own throat hurt before he finally slammed into her slutty little love tunnel one last fucking time, and she was so suddenly filled with a boiling hot, bubbly sticky heat~!!

"AAAAAHHHHHH~!!!!!" Naoto's entire body tensed as she came harder then she ever had in her life~!! The feeling of being filled, of practically being bred felt so fucking good, she wanted every single last drop inside of her~!! She wanted to be Senpai's cock warmer~!! She wanted him to fill her asshole with his cum every single day~!!!

And suddenly, it stopped, all of it, the pounding, the squealing, the cumming.. And all that was left was her Senpai suddenly flopping down on top of her, his cock still twitching inside of her hole, spurting the last of his seed, and the only noises filling the room was their panting and gasping.

Naoto felt so small under her Senpai, more feminine then she'd ever felt in her life, so warm and full~ She felt.. She didn't know, but it felt right, almost as right as the butterflies that sprung up in her tummy as the young man wrapped his arms around her small waist and held her gently, laying them both to their sides on the bed and pulling her as close as he could against his chest, his face buried in her hair behind her.

She felt so light, and happy~ So.. Sleepy~ Darkness slowly covered her eyes, or were those her eyelids, and she felt her entire body relax against the young man behind her~ And she remembered she was supposed to tel the truth~? Or something~? Well she knew what the truth was~

Sleep finally came for the small detective as she mumbled what was in her mind~

"I love you Senpai~"

Soft snores was the only thing that filled the room now, and the young man wasn't far behind, putting his glasses to the side and shutting off the lights. He'd have to say it back to her tomorrow.

Though he was worried how she'd react when she found out she needed to walk to school the next day wearing what she came over in, with a limp.. And he wondered how Sojiro would react when he saw them both coming down the stairs..

[hawksugarbaby]

Todoroki x male reader- Caramel and Honey

Fluff + Au where todoroki rebelled and never became a hero 

Todoroki hummed to himself laying out the ingredients in front of him with his mixing bowl in the centre of the counter top, the mix of ingredients in organised lines from first to last except he was missing one ingredient.

It was soon to be your birthday, and todoroki being the gentleman as always was desperate to make you a cake as his local supplier. You deserved it for the kind smile you wore dropping of his orders at the back of the shop and hovering around for a few minutes to talk before disappearing into the wind again driving away in your van with (y/ln) Produce, stamped on the side of the van in big, black cursive.

He took over the shop from his mothers side of the family before she fell ill and had to go to hospital. not wanting anything to do with his disgusting father he chose to stay and manage the store of light pinks and pure whites. He heard your tires pulling up outside on the gravelly path and he opened the door for you to drop off your produce inside on the counters by the door.

"Hey Roki! How's it hanging, making anything special today?" you asked hauling a crate of freshly picked fruit for the season in and dropping it onto the steel top, wiggling under the weight and scooting forward a millimeter. "What do you consider special?" he asked bluntly helping you carry the boxes into the kitchen and put the items in their respective places.

Finally you brought in the cardboard box layered in bubble wrap filled with decorative jars of golden honey pockets of air suspended in the viscous liquid and Todoroki nodded happily in receiving everything he asked for. Sometimes you'd forget the blueberries, or the tea leaves or the bananas grown specially by your quirk. You grabbed a glass of honey flicking the lid open and dipped your finger into the glossy amber tasting it yourself.

"Something special? I would love a rustic honey cake. Just the way mum used to make it with our honey. Not the dumb store bought stuff, the stuff we make ourselves. With the bee's we lovingly care for, for a reason!" you shout but it was muffled by you sucking the honey off of your finger.

Todoroki wiped his chin and cleared his throat "you've got some... there's uh... like a little" you looked up at him and touched your chin the sticky threads of honey clinging to your hand. "Shit" you tutted and wiped it away with the heel of your hand getting that just as sticky as the rest of you. "Well this is embarrassing" you sighed and todoroki exhaled quickly, which was close enough to a laugh to make you smile. "Here" he ran a tea towel under the warm tap and wiped it over your chin and pressed it into your hand for you to clean your hands yourself.

He felt his own face light up red and grabbed a cup of blueberries in preparation for the blueberry muffins he would bake today and you blinked a few time's rebooting your brain after the short interaction making you flustered.

You wiped your hands down and neatly folded the towel over the side of the sink and shook your head clearing the busy, buzzing thoughts from your head and drew your eye's away from him focusing on the calendar hanging next to the wall. Delivery, nothing, delivery, nothing, delivery + (y/n) Birthday. You grinned and pointed to the red circle around the familiar number on the calendar and twisted your neck to watch him stir ingredients together into a pale yellow batter.

"You remember my birthday?" you quizzed and he nodded furiously beating the whisked eggs into the mixture and poured in the cup of indigo berries fresh from the bush. "Hey are you busy right now?" Todoroki asked moving on from the topic of your birthday and lifted his eyes from your strong arms he'd seen carry so many boxes of fruit, to your joy filled (e/c) orbs sparkling happily at the prospect of him. HIM. remembering your birthday.

"I can be not busy?" you raise your palms to the popcorn roof and flick out your phone calling a coworker. "Hey Bro, could you perchance come get the van from the Todoroki Bakery and deliver the rest of the products?" you ask and pushed the phone to your ear with your shoulder and mouthed 'frozen fruit' to todoroki and you quirked an eyebrow. He nodded to the bottom drawer.

"No I dropped a crate on my foot carrying the peaches into the shop and It hurts to walk on it I dunno how driving would go" you chuckle nervously and wink to todoroki who just looked back down at his muffins filling the white, paper cases not quite understanding. "No, I know it's so unlike me! But it's okay, Todoroki said he'd give me a lift home but can you just do the rest of the rounds?"

Your brother agreed and you said your bye's on the phone. "I now have the entire day off" you said proudly and leaned your elbows on the counter admiring todoroki's fluffy hair straying further from the style it was originally in while he pushed the baking tray into the oven. "Wait but I should check your foot if you hurt it" he said crouching down and pressing his cold hands against your ankle making you flinch "no I didn't really hurt my foot I just needed to get out of work" you chuckle.

"Oh okay. Will your dad believe that, aren't you supposed to be the big strong son?" Todoroki craned his neck up to look at you still resting with one knee on the floor and the other pulled up like he was going to propose. You lost yourself in your thoughts again imagining that instead of his hand on your foot he was holding out a small grey box with a gleaming band tucked into the cushion.

"Hey what the fuck is this?" your brother laughed at the scene in the kitchen and you whipped your head up to see him leaning against the door frame uncaringly. "Uhh todoroki was checking if my foot was swollen or anything. No evidence of broken bones yet! So you should just get going with the van here are my keys!!" you said hopping over like a professional actor and shoved the keys into his hand. "Mhm i'm sure that's what it was. OUTSIDE!" he shouted at you pulling you round the corner clipping your arm on the wooden pallets leaning against the wall out back scraping up inside your elbow.

"Hey what the hell, that hurt!" you shouted lightly tapping the bleeding scratched that didn't seem to want to stop bleeding. "Look I know you like that todoroki kid but you can't just skip work to spend the day with him!" your brother turned around and looked at your face, mouth agape and eye's furrowed into annoyance and he shrugged "what i'm just being hon-" "ARE YOU BLIND OR STUPID!?" you shouted back thrusting your profusely bleeding forearm in his face.

"Oh shit what! are you feeling okay?" he panicked suddenly drawing Todoroki's attention and he poked his head out the back door. Being the observant boy he was, his eyes went wide and he jogged over to where you were standing and wiped the blood away with the already honey covered tea towel but the crimson immediately started pouring out again. "He needs an ambulance" the dual haired baker tightly wrapped the tea towel around your arm which was quickly soaked in red.

You moaned in pain and annoyance feeling your head spin. "What could he have cut his arm on?" your brother asked and you held your hand out in front of his face snapping your fingers closed against your thumb shutting him up. "There's a huge fucking rusty nail... on the pallet you dragged me past you dickhead" you huffed. The ground span and swayed around you and the brightness in your vision was turned down so you could barely see the outlines of the boys surrounding you.

And then you were on the floor.

And then you were in the hospital. Staring at the white plaster ceiling at midnight with no one by your side. "Huh" you hummed and checked your phone hissing at the brightness lashing the dark hospital room.

todoroki was in the shop with a bowl and cake pan next to him. The jar of honey you scooped from open and his phone laying open waiting for your answer to his text.

You replied to the questions he asked and Todoroki's phone buzzed on the steel countertop and he perked up immediately reaching for the electronic, slowly running out of battery.

Roki 💖🍰

Hey are you okay?

Fri 12:18

Do you like pistachios?

Oh also raisins, do you like raisins?

Probably not, no one likes raisins

I like raisins...

Anyway. Text me when you see this

Fri 18:35

Roki 💖🍰

I hope you wake up.

I wasn't supposed to get a delivery from you today

But I wish I was cause I like seeing you

You make my heart feel... weird.

Good weird

Sat 8:44

Still don't know if you like raisins and pistachios

Sat 12:27

Roki 💖🍰

It's your birthday tomorrow you know.

Sorry I didn't text yesterday but you were sleeping anyway

How can you catch tetanus so quickly

It's supposed to take 4 days dumbass.

You got it in like 1. You fainted because of the blood btw

Mon 13:21

Please just wake up for your birthday.

I have something special for you

But I need to know if you like pistachios and raisins

Mon 14:56

Roki 💖🍰

Happy Birthday (y/n)

Tue 00:00

You chuckled to yourself at the sweet messages todoroki sent you over the course of the days and glanced at the clock. "I wonder if he's still awake" you croaked and wiped your eyes from sleep then yawned filling your waterline with unnecessary tears.

Bumblebee 🍯

Hey Roki. I'm up

I like/don't like pistachios

And I like/don't like raisins

Sorry for worrying you. Promise I won't get anymore tetanus

I'm going back to sleep

Come visit tomorrow

today*

Sent

Tue 4:13

"You better not be awake dumbass" you mumbled and turned over on your pillow burying your face into the uncomfortable pancake for your head.

Seen

Tue 4:15

The baker smiled and finally started working on his surprise for you chopping his toppings and thinly slicing/ throwing away his toasted pistachios and crunching on a few raisins while working.

At 2pm he walked in and went to visit you with his surprise balancing carefully in your hand. He carefully tiptoed to your bedside and pushed your side slightly. You snorted and rolled over, opening your eye's to an amused todoroki settling himself into the chair next to your bed. "Something smells great" you muttered pushing your face back into the pillow and smiling. "Thank you for visiting" you muffled and todoroki chuckled nodding.

"Happy birthday" he smiled pulling the foil off of the top of your surprise. You peaked your eyes open and sat up smiling brightly. "I didn't know how your mum made it but I made my own recipe" he scratched the back of his head and moved to sit next to you on the mattress. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your cheek lightly before you could take off the handheld slice you were slowly lifting to your mouth.

"My heart feels weird around you" he sighed and thumped his forehead against your shoulder and you snickered, taking a soft bite of the sticky, nostalgic cake in your grasp. "I know. Thank you for the little updates by the way, very sweet of you" you emphasised the sweet as a pun on the honey cake but of course, it flew over todoroki's head. "But yeah. Thank you for the cake it's delicious" you complimented and leaned your head on his. "Can I go back to sleep now?" you joked and he smiled and pressed you down by your hard chest and lay on top of you. "Just don't sleep for 4 days again" he mumbled nestling into your t'shirt.

You stared down at the parting in his hair with huge, round eye's and put your hands on his back, grasping them together in a hug-ish type thing. "Okay"