#if only it were as simple as locking them in a closet lol

[frownyalfred]

The Justice League doesn’t play “will they, won’t they” with Superbat — the problem is that they won’t, full stop, and the entire JL has to deal with the consequences of that decision at every single goddamned meeting.

[suskz]

Guess who’s back~

hello my lovely angel <3

I was gonna recommend anonymously again but we need the pic.

so. Remember when chan broke us with this:

I was thinking about what if chan, like, handcuffed you to the bed? Being all rough and shit. Yep. I’m ill lol. So I was just wondering if you weren’t too busy if a fic/drabbles on the table? have a good day/night

remember to eat and drink water💕💕💕

Hi sweetie ♡

Need to say that rough sex with Chan has me on my knees 🛐

I’m sorry that it took so long for it to be finished. I rewrote ur ask like 3 times cuz I didn’t like the way it was coming out lol.

Then I found the right idea, but I’m not totally satisfied with how I wrote it in some parts. Still hope you like it!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

pairing: Bang Chan x fem!Reader

w/c: 2,5k

tw: smut ; rough sex ; dirty talk ; degradation kink ; praising kink ; choking ; handcuffing ; established relationship ; clit play ; it’s not specified, but there are safe-words between them, anyway reader doesn’t use any of them ; bruises.

When you see them, your eyes cling to the shiny pink metal you just found at the bottom of your boyfriend’s closet.

You take them and you turn them over in your hands, observing them carefully. It’s part of the toys he’s used in the past, just not with you.

Your relationship is quite new, and you haven't really discussed your sexual preferences yet. In fact, you're still discovering them, being new to your first romantic relationship. But the way your heart beats faster, your cheeks flush, and you feel a certain tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach at the images that come to mind at the thought of what he might do with those handcuffs, it leaves you with some questions.

But when you hear his voice calling you, you realize you've paused too long. You place them back in their spot and pick up the light white blanket he asked you to retrieve, which had been covering the heart-shaped handcuffs you've just discovered.

When you return to the living room, he’s putting the movie on TV. After cuddling up on the couch, with him half-lying down and you on top of him, covering yourselves with the blanket, he makes it start.

But you can't focus on it because of your previous discovery. Your desire to try it is so high. You think it's time to try introducing something new into sex, and that could be a good start. The only thing left to do is to ask. If only it were that simple.

"Channie…" his name escapes from your lips before you can rethink.

"Mh?" he directs his attention to you without taking his eyes off the TV.

Only when you raise your head to look at him does he do the same, locking eyes with yours.

"Well..." you say, unsure, "I found a c-couple of handcuffs under this blanket, in your closet," your voice comes out more stuttering than you want it to.

"Oh," he says surprised; he doesn't remember leaving them there, "I must have left them there by mistake, I'll put them back in place another time; thanks for telling me, I guess," he observes you closely, "Is there something wrong?".

"Uh... well," there's a small moment of silence, and finally you find the courage to tell him, "I thought we could try them." you take your eyes away from his, looking down, and you're thankful that there's no light in the room other than the one emitted by the TV because you feel your cheeks and ears start to burn.

The movie is long forgotten, and you expect questions from him, but he simply nods. He places two fingers under your chin and lifts your head so you can look him in the eyes, "Do you want to try now?".

"I mean, if you want to...".

"I want it," he replies immediately, "Now, be a good girl and go to the bedroom to undress while I tidy up here, okay?"

You nod quickly and head to the bedroom. You hear some noise in the living room and figure Chan is rearranging things while waiting for you to be ready for him.

You get rid of your pants and shirt, remaining only in your underwear, since you're not wearing a bra. You wonder if you should also take off your panties, but then you remember how much he enjoys touching you over them and seeing them get wet for him, so you keep them on.

You take the handcuffs from the closet and place them on the bed next to where you sit cross-legged, waiting for him.

And a few minutes later, you hear the door of the room open and you raise your head in his direction.

He pauses for a moment at the door, gazing at you, and his lips curl into a smirk. You feel your cheeks warm slightly as you watch him approach you.

He reaches you on the bed and positions himself over you, making you slide back until you're lying beneath him.

"I told you to undress completely, didn’t I?" he looks into your eyes, and before you can respond, one of his hands firmly grabs your inner thigh and you gasp slightly at the sudden touch, "But I won’t complain." He leans in over you and captures your lips with his.

He kisses you deeply and slowly, exploring your mouth with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. The room would be completely enveloped in silence if not for the subtle slurp of your tongues intertwining and the soft sighs escaping from your lips.

His hand that was on your tigh now begins to go up your body, brushing your core with his thumb in the process, continuing up your stomach and stopping at your breast, which he grasps, making sure to have your nipple between two of his fingers. He brings his two fingers together slightly to pinch it lightly, and the slight moan he elicits from you makes him repeat the action.

He breaks away from the kiss only for a moment; while his thumb teases your nipple, his other hand grips your inner thigh to open your legs further and lower his hips onto yours, pressing gently, which becomes rougher as you resume kissing, making both of you moan and making you feel how hard he is in his pants.

Before pulling away, he bites your lip, and then you look into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily. Your lips are red and swollen from the kiss, and he smiles, looking at you.

Finally, one of his hands reaches your most intimate part, sliding his thumb along it, feeling how wet you’ve made your panties, “Did I get you all worked up without even touching you properly?” he teases you.

You give him a fiery look, “The situation here tells me the same about you.” You reach for the crotch of his pants, grabbing and squeezing it, making him gasp. He returns your gaze and lightly slaps your pussy before lifting his body from yours, still remaining between your legs.

His gaze falls on the handcuffs next to you, and he takes them in his hands, observing them. “You’re just waiting for the moment when I fuck you with these, aren’t you?” he huffs a little chuckle through his nose. “First choking, now these; you like being submissive, huh? Leaving me in control of everything.” there’s a slight edge in his voice that shows how truly turned up he is. Just the fact that you’re trusting him so much, letting him have total control of your body, makes his mind slightly dizzy.

He looks at you and sees the desperation now colouring your features. “Now, face down, ass up”.

You do as you’re told, turning over and raising your ass, and putting your forearms on the bed to keep yourself slightly up so that your face isn’t pressed into the pillow. But without warning, his hands grab your arms and put them behind your back. You feel his hand just above your wrist, and then cold metal touching your skin, and you feel a shiver run through your entire body at the sensation.

His hand tightens its grip on your hip while the thumb of the other presses against your entrance, making your panties even wetter, then he pulls them down to your ankles. He would like to play with you a bit more, but he doesn’t feel that patient right now.

He lowers his pants and boxers just enough to pull out his cock, and you feel arousal coursing through your entire body at the thought of him fucking you with his clothes still on while you’re completely naked underneath him at his mercy.

He grabs the underside of your asscheeks —and beginning of your thighs—, spreading them apart and taking a good look at your hole clenching around nothing; then, one of his hands breaks away from your skin to slide two of his fingers inside, making you whimper.

You move your hips back and forth to the rhythm of his fingers, which is fucking slow, but his other hand tightens harder where it grips your skin, as a warning. And you hope it bruises.

He pulls them out and wipes them on one of your cheeks, and without any warning, he enters you in one swift motion, immediately starting to move without giving you time to settle properly.

“S-slow down—“ you ask him breathlessly, but he doesn’t.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” his breath is heavy, “To be tied up and used the way I like, huh?”. At his words, you clench around his cock, making him moan and grip your hips tightly.

He lowers himself onto you and rests his hands on the bed. Your face is pressed into the pillows as you try to stifle your moans. But it’s difficult with the way his cock moves so skilfully inside you, hitting your weak spots, making it so hard to hold back that you’re breathless and think about asking him to stop for a moment. You’re not usually so shy and never try to hold back your moans, but this time is different, maybe because of the handcuffs? You don’t even know.

But he notices. He stops, slides an arm under your breast, and lifts your body. His other hand grabs the headboard of the bed for balance.

His tongue licks that patch of skin behind your ear where you’re sensitive, “Why aren’t you making yourself heard?” he whispers and starts moving again, “I want to hear how good I make you feel, so don’t you dare hold back again.” it sounds like a threat, but you ignore that as his movements become faster than before, and soon he makes you fall back onto the bed, with half of your face on the pillows but your nose and mouth free, and this time you make yourself heard loud and clear.

“Good girl.” if the nickname didn’t make you moan loudly enough, his hand gripping your nape to choke you and push your head down definitely did.

With every thrust, you feel yourself on the verge of coming and you fucking love this so much.

Suddenly, you feel him stop, and your wrists are freed; but you don’t have time to understand what’s happening or to complain before he pulls his cock out of you and you’re turned onto your back.

He takes your arms and brings them to the headboard of the bed, where he puts the handcuffs back on you, securing them to it.

And then, he looks at you.

He observes your entire body, from your tear-streaked face with saliva-coated lips, to your wet, stretched out pussy, begging to be filled again.

Finally, your brain starts to reason again, and if possible, your cheeks flush an even deeper red. You feel exposed. You want to cover yourself with your arms, and you try, but the metallic noise that comes out reminds you of the situation you’re in. You try to close your legs —as much as you can with him in between them— but his hands roughly grasp your inner thighs, spreading them apart again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hives you a disapproving look, “Why should you hide from me, huh?” He seems annoyed, mad, and you shrink under his judgmental gaze. “I don’t think you deserve my dick inside you again. Maybe I should leave you like this: handcuffed to the bed, naked and needy for the rest of the night. What do you think about that?”.

You feel like crying at his words. He couldn’t really do that, could he?

You shake your head quickly.

“Obviously, a slut like you just wants to be filled with dick all the time,” he takes his cock in hand and slaps the tip against your clit, and as you moan freely, he suppresses the groan that tries to escape his lips. “isn’t that right?”.

“Please.”

“Please what?” he responds coldly, looking down on you.

“Put it in, please.” you beg him, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“What if I don’t?”.

You feel tears of frustration forming at the corners of your eyes, “Channie…”

He slaps his tip against your clit again, drags it to your hole, “You’ll cry if I don’t put it in, won’t you? What a crybaby.”, and then he finally pushes it in.

He starts thrusting into you again, a little slower this time, but deeper than before.

Again, you feel the need to grab onto something, anything, but you can’t, and this makes you frustrated.

He places his hand on your stomach and presses, “Feel it” he moans, “feel my cock pushing inside you”. When your mind registers his words and you glance down at his hand, he removes it, and you can clearly see the outline of his cock bulging from your belly.

This is what makes you both feel close to the edge.

Chan feels he can’t hold out much longer. His hand reaches down where your bodies meet and takes your clit between two fingers, lightly pinching it.

"Are you about to come? Huh? You want to come, don’t you?".

"Please, daddy please." Your eyes are closed and your head thrown back into the pillows, so you don't see the way his face tightens at your words. A loud groan leaves his lips and your walls are painted with white spurts of hot cum. You follow right after him.

You don't realize you've blacked out for a while until you open your eyes and see Chan filling your chest and shoulders with sweet kisses.

He looks at you, and finally his gaze is soft and relaxed, “How was it?” he asks you attentively.

You smile, “Amazing, as always”.

“Good.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips.

Afterward, he takes a warm cloth and cleans you, puts another pair of underwear on you, and one of his shirts simply because he likes to see you wearing his stuff, while he puts on his boxers.

He applies a soothing lotion on your wrists as you talk about how you felt, and finally, he lies down in bed with you, covering both of you with the blanket.

You rest your head on his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat relaxes you as he strokes your hair.

“Was I too rough?” he asks, needing to make sure you don’t feel any pain.

“A bit, but I also liked it because of that”.

"I wasn’t too mean, right? Everything was good?" he's sure you would have told him if it was too much for you, but he still feels the need to hear confirmation from you that everything is okay.

“No, everything was perfect, baby, don't worry," you stroke his side.

“Good," he says, feeling more relaxed, "sleep now." he caresses your shoulder.

You already feel your eyes can't stay open any longer, but you still lift your head to give him a goodnight kiss.

And you fall asleep like that, in each other's arms, in the relaxing silence of the night and the sound of your hearts beating for each other.

[lostmyhufflepuffstatus]

Begin Again {Criminal Minds}

Word Count: 846

Summary: After getting out of a toxic relationship your friend sets you up on a blind date with a certain young profiler. (based on the song Begin Again by Taylor Swift)

Warnings: Past toxic relationship

A/N: Hey bitches and witches I'M BACK! I took a hiatus cause mental health lol.

You checked your outfit in the mirror behind your bedroom door for maybe the hundredth time in the last hour. You were finally feeling like reentering society, you had ended things with Jeremiah a few weeks back, after finally learning that he was an even bigger asshole than what your friends had been trying to tell you. Your first step to returning to being yourself was going on a simple coffee date with someone new, in your favorite outfit. You bent your knee to look at your foot in the mirror. Your favorite pair of shoes had not been popular with Jeremiah, you had shoved them into the way back of your closet after the tenth time of hearing “Are you seriously wearing those shoes again?” or some variation of that statement. You had been dying to wear them since you had called things off with him. Taking a deep breath you opened the door when you were finally outside your apartment building you looked around before you forgot you turned to lock the door. Pulling your headphones out and playing your favorite song was a new comfort. You didn’t know how but somehow you knew that today would be the start of something good.

Walking the few blocks to the cafe your date had chosen was easy. You distracted yourself from your spiraling thoughts by looking at the street, the sun seemed brighter and things had more color and life than the last time you checked. You steadied yourself outside the cafe doors, you had brought a book prepared to wait in case your date was late. The cafe was slightly cooler than the weather outside. You felt goosebumps rise on your arm as you took in the smell of bread and coffee. JJ had described the guy you were supposed to be meeting, as very tall, willowy, and looking like a young college professor. You didn’t see him at first until he stood up from his table and waved his hand trying to get your attention. You pulled your headphones out of your ears and walked over. You held your hand out to introduce yourself,

“Hi, my name is [Y/N].” He seemed hesitant for only a moment before he took his hand in yours, his hand was strong and soft, but you could feel callouses on his palm. You were brought back to reality when he spoke. 

“Hi [Y/N] I’m uh… I’m Doctor Spencer Ried, but I think you knew that 'cause JJ must have told you something about me otherwise you probably wouldn’t be here, I mean here in the cafe, not like here here.” You saw the lightest shade of pink on the tips of his ears as he realized how much he was rambling. You couldn’t help but give the doctor a smile and a soft laugh. After a few moments, he released your hand and pulled out your chair for you. You couldn’t help that your heart sped up a few beats. You took your seat as he took his.

Talking with Spencer felt like the most natural thing in the world, yes there was a brief moment of awkward small talk, but soon the two of you were laughing like kids. You shared stories from your childhood, the times that you and your friends had snuck some of your parent's alcohol and had gotten stuck on children’s playground equipment. He shared his stories of growing up in Las Vegas being a twelve-year-old genius. Someone had brought up the subject of books, you didn’t remember who, but he said that he was surprised that someone had almost as many books as he did. He told you about how they filled his apartment. 

You had been spending eight or nine months thinking that love just didn’t exist for you. You were starting to come to terms with that, but then you met Spencer and you felt that little shred of hope in you start to grow. After a while, at the coffee shop, he offered to walk you home and you said yes. You continued your conversation, bringing up people that you used to date, he talked about when he kissed the actress Lyla Archer in the pool, you were about to bring up Jeremiah when the subject took a change and he started talking about Christmas with his mom, how much they liked to go look at the lights, he even talked about movies that they would watch now. 

You reached your door, and you talked for a few moments before you heard his phone ring. He groaned before answering it. You laughed softly as he rolled his eyes after hanging up the phone muttering something about “Morgan being a pain in the ass.” He apologized saying that he needed to go but he really really wanted to see you again. After a quick kiss on your cheek, he was gone, running down the street. You felt yourself grinning because it was Wednesday, you made it through your coffee date, and you were ready to begin something new again.

[harrysgoldenline]

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

—————————————————————————

Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!

[captainsimagines]

hunting the fates || two

Summary: When the repercussions of giving up your Immortality come back to haunt you, a journey to Hell seems to be the only solution. With the help of your friends, both old and new, you set out on a journey to destroy the three Fates who have messed with your life long enough. There you discover that your power extends further than you ever thought possible, as does the Winter Soldier’s.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x (Fem) POC Enhanced Reader; Sam Wilson x Female Original Character

Trope(s): Fantasy/Mythology/Horror; Soulmates/Mates; Angst/Fluff/Smut; Bisexual! Bucky Barnes; Multiple POV’s

Based on the Song(s): ‘Power’ by Isak Danielson ; ‘Breakfast’ by Dove Cameron ; ‘Darkside’ by Neoni ; ‘Bow - Slowed’ by Reyn Hartley

AO3 Link

Warnings: mention of infertility; strong language; sexual tension; mentions of slavery and curses; inaccurate Greek mythology; slow build-up to more extreme plot (lol)

Word Count: 4,960+

Author’s Note: Slow world building, but it picks up tremendously after this chapter! Don’t worry! Sorry about no Hades this chapter. I miss him too lol xxMoni

~

Sam wandered, and wandered, turned right, and wandered some more.

He wasn’t armed with anything remotely dangerous—when Bucky called he dropped the television remote and sprinted the whole way to the restaurant. The second he threw open the doors, however, he had realized he forgot the shield. And his wings. And a gun.

So Sam made do with what was provided to him in his extravagant suite, taking a hanger from the closet—closets, really—and pulling the metal cord from inside. Bending and twisting it into what Sam would embarrassingly compare to a shank, he now held it firm in his right hand while his left carried a candle in its holder. He immediately regretted asking you for book recommendations from the 19th century all those months ago, because now he can’t stop comparing himself to Jane fucking Eyre.

He just hopes he doesn’t run into Hades’s estranged, tormented wife along the way.

The hallways were decorated with some of the most beautiful artwork Sam had ever seen. Pieces that rivaled the greats, pieces that were from the greats—all in a Renaissance or Baroque style. Which made sense considering the Renaissance era focused heavily on Greek and Roman mythology.

On his fourth right turn, however, Sam stopped to behold a painting that was unlike the others. Not as vibrant, not as large, not as commanding. A simple piece, but one Sam believed was hidden between all the rest on purpose.

The painting depicted a woman with striking red hair that could easily be mistaken for orange, tied back but allowed to run wild. Although her gaze was solemn, it wasn’t entirely pitiful. Something else shined in her eyes, curiosity and patience perhaps. She held a single pomegranate, and with the other hand held her own wrist.

Sam had passed dozens of paintings depicting war, love, and peace. And in all of those, not one depicted Hades’s other half. Where was Persephone? Thor had mentioned that this current Hades had been sitting on the throne for over six hundred years, which meant there was someone before him. But don’t Gods live forever? And if not, is this Hades the offspring of the Hades before him?

A theory clicked: Maybe Persephone has just not been born yet. And since the physical descriptors for each Hades have been spot-on with the dark blue eyes, pale skin, and blue fire, maybe the next Persephone is a red-head.

“I told you the locks were on the inside, Birdling.”

Sam jumped and stumbled backward, the hand holding the shank reaching up to clench at his shirt. “Fuck!”

Elva rolled her eyes but turned to the portrait of Persephone. With her arms crossed, she joked, “There are so many red-heads down here in Hell, and Hades has been through them all.”

Sam rubbed at his chest, huffing gently. “Like…Through them, through them?”

Elva shrugged. “He’s a sexual being. Of course he’s fucked them all.”

Sam grunted, looking at her and down the hallway he supposed she came from. When she reached up to swipe the hair from her face, Sam took note of the chain bracelets. Anger simmered in the pit of his stomach and he found himself asking, “Has he touched you?”

Elva turned to him and snorted. “I would hope not. He is my uncle.”

Sam, ignoring the way his stomach settled way too quickly from her response, lifted an eyebrow. “We’re talking about Greek mythology here. Zeus literally married and fucked his own sister.”

“Yes, well, the Hades I know isn’t as demented.”

Sam continued to stare at the chains. Whether Elva noticed his gaze or not, she didn’t comment. Was she a slave? She acted way too casual around him, around the palace, around Hades himself. He didn’t order her around, nor did he attach a leash between the rings of metal. Besides, slaves weren’t usually given a sword and an opportunity to speak.

“Where were you heading?” Elva asked, following him down the hallway as he continued on.

Sam lifted the candle higher, checking the ceilings for spider-webs or loose demons. Banishing demons from his mind, Sam focused on the spider-web portion of his worries. Would Shortcake’s message get back to Peter? How much time had passed from the portal to now?

At least Sam knows Peter will keep Alpine fed. And when he, Shortcake, and Bucky aren’t home soon, Peter will contact Margot, Berenice, and Thor immediately.

“I was just getting to know my surroundings.”

Elva hummed, unconvinced. “You won’t find an escape route, you know. There are tunnels underneath this palace even I wouldn’t dare map.”

“Good to know.” He didn’t pay her a glance as he spoke. He could feel her beside him, anyway. Her golden hair bounced and her leathers made the barest of noise. It was the sword at her hip that clanged each time the steel locket of the scabbard hit her belt. As if noticing it, Elva placed her hand on the sword’s pommel, holding it still.

“Why aren’t your friends with you?”

Sam turned into another hallway, nearly barreling into Elva as she stepped in front of him. He glanced down at her, noticing her close proximity, meeting her eyes.

Those red, red eyes.

Was she a vampire? She was an Immortal, but her teeth were normal. Plus, she hadn’t tried sinking her teeth into his neck yet. Everything else about her screamed soldier. A woman who took pleasure in wielding that sword, and driving it through flesh.

“You are staring.”

Sam flushed, and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’ve never met anyone with such interesting eyes.”

Elva gave him a small, downward smile. “A backhanded compliment.”

Sam quickly recovered, “I’ve never met anyone with red eyes.”

“Oh? You’ve never met a Blood Elementalist?”

“Up until a few months ago, I hadn’t realized I met an Earth one.”

“Ah,” Elva sighed. “I guess there’s an explanation. Elementalists of all kinds have gone into hiding more recently. Demons prowl your human lands more often than you think.”

Sam shuddered. “Don’t remind me.” Then, playing it casual by continuing down the hallway, he asked, “What is it that a Blood Elementalist like you can do?”

Elva followed him, her expression one of subdued displeasure. “I have not been able to wield my powers for seven hundred years.”

That made Sam halt his steps. “Seven hundred?”

She raised her wrists.

Sam clenched his jaw tight. Looking across both sides of the hallway, he stepped forward and silently declared, “If I find a way out of here…come with us.”

Elva studied his face slowly, her fiery eyes moving from left to right and downward. Scrunching her eyebrows, Elva asked, “What is it that you’re thinking?”

“That Hades has you trapped here, restraining your power, and forcing you to be his right-hand.”

Elva shook her head, as if his words were intrusive. “Hades is not my captor. His father was.”

“He hasn’t released you—”

“Because he cannot.”

Sam waited, taking the time to study her face as well. Her creamy skin was the slightest bit tanned, her lips were more pink than red, and her neck contained one mole—one brown mole that rightfully disturbed the expanse of clear skin.

“I am the offspring of the current Poseidon and a Blood Elementalist. Therefore, I am his niece. But Hades’s father had not yet been killed, and he is the one who enslaved me for daring to point a sword at him. He did not order the Fates to curse me—they did it themselves.”

Sam rolled it over in his head as quickly as he could. If he didn’t solve the order of those words in the next five seconds with Elva staring directly into his soul, he might never recover.

This current Hades had a father, but he was not the brother of the current Poseidon.

This current Hades is related to the current Poseidon. They’re brothers. Without the same father?

Elva is Poseidon’s daughter. Hades is her uncle.

One more time—

“Did you think I was his slave?”

Sam’s lips thinned as he blushed. “In all honesty, I could have thought worse.”

Elva’s lips twitched in amusement, and her red eyes flashed gold for a quick second. But Sam caught it, and he swore the flecks resembled confetti.

Elva turned, looking over her shoulder as she instructed, “Follow me, Birdling. If you want to know the palace, then the palace shall know you.”

Armed with his makeshift knife and a permanent embarrassed pit in his stomach, Sam did as he was told.

~

     “Oh! He could be exploring the catacombs! Or the Styx—everyone wants to see the Styx! Maybe the Prison of Demons—”

Bucky choked on a breath. “Sam’s an idiot but he’s not that much of an idiot to willingly go there.”

Bucky’s right. Sam wouldn’t stray too far without knowing how to return to his room. And when Bucky calls him an idiot, it’s more a term of endearment than anything else.

But this.

Sam was a complete idiot for this.

“I think we’ll stick with the places closest to his room, Wenrel. Thank you,” you said softly, smiling at the water sprite ahead of you. She had leapt from your shoulder a while ago and has been skipping along the red carpet of the hallway instead, guiding you and Bucky. Bucky made sure to keep his steps in time with yours, especially when Wenrel whipped around once and Bucky nearly stepped on her.

“The library is close by! But Maxwell’s probably down there sulking and he’s no fun when he’s sulking.”

“Sulking over what?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know this time. He usually tells me everything.”

“You and Maxwell are friends?”

Wenrel nodded, and hopped onto the nearest stair railing. “He’s my bestest friend!” And with that, she slid all the way to the bottom.

“She’s really cute,” Bucky whispered to you as he watched Wenrel flip and land on a table against the wall. But the water sprite proved to have way more advanced hearing than you thought.

“Don’t call me cute!” Wenrel ordered before you even had the chance to respond to Bucky.

Bucky’s cheeks reddened. “Sorry.”

“I know my size is cute and I sound high-pitched, but I was once her size!” She wagged a tiny finger toward you.

“Then…Why are you—”

“Tiny?” Wenrel finished. “It all ties back to those damned Fates! I was a full-sized water nymph, but when I refused Poseidon's advances, he asked the Fates to place a curse on me so no man could ever touch me again!”

“Poseidon?” Bucky stuttered, amazed.

“Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, yes. Before your time, before Maxwell’s, before my Hades even took the throne.”

My Hades.

Wenrel huffed, swiping at her face. Her hand looked as if it touched real skin however, as if she was truly tangible. She ringed her arm back and gathered her floating hair into a ponytail, holding it tight over her shoulder. “I’m going to Maxwell in the library. Maybe Sammy’s there. You’re welcome to follow.”

Wenrel hopped to the floor and ran down the hall, her elvish feet meeting the ground as if on lily pads.

Bucky scrunched his nose. “I think I offended her.”

“I think you did.”

Bucky snorted, wiping his face with his metal hand. “Do you want to follow her?”

You shrugged. “Sam loves libraries, but he loves mystery more.”

“Books contain mystery.”

“Not the kind he can find on his own trail.”

You and Bucky traveled through the palace on light feet, studying your surroundings and joking along the way.

Can’t Hades choose one damn theme?

I think the theme is Gothic-chic. Or medieval.

To very distinct things, Goddess.

And—

The night crew look happy. How many rooms do you think the palace has?

…Thirty.

Wha—? Buckingham Palace has 52 bedrooms alone, James!

It was a rough estimate.

Which led to the conversation you were having now as you pointed out yet another bedroom during the tour. “I think that’s twenty so far. And we haven’t even climbed down a flight of stairs.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. He had turned the safety back on his gun and was currently twirling it around his metal fingers. “Whatever. You think they’re occupied?”

“Dare you to knock.”

“And come face to face with Apollo himself? You dream, Shortcake.”

You squinted, smiling as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Does Apollo get it going for you?”

“You know what gets me going,” Bucky mumbled, still not meeting your gaze.

Something greedy swooped in your stomach. What in the world was happening? It took you six months to even want to try something serious with Bucky, six months of casual flirting that led nowhere, six months of guilt and shame.

Every time you had thought of Bucky in a certain way, guilt only grew. And not because it was some kind of betrayal to Ari—because it totally wasn’t—but because you still hadn’t found a heartbeat. Neither Sam or Bucky have mentioned it, but Peter has.

The two of you had been watching television together, relaxed in the quiet space, when Peter turned to you with a scrunched forehead and a stunted breath. He listened, listened, and realized.

Sam couldn’t possibly know, but Bucky? Can’t his advanced hearing pick it up?

So whenever these feelings of pure, unadulterated lust came rushing, you felt shameful that it would lead nowhere emotionally. You feel deeply for Bucky. Of course you do. What you felt for Ari was endless, and what you currently feel for Bucky is ethereal.

“I don’t know much,” you commented, scanning your surroundings to avoid looking Bucky in the eye.

“Mm,” Bucky hummed. He stored his gun back into his belt when a group of night servants turned down the hallway. They all gave you kind smiles, some even verbally greeting you. All you could manage was a small wave. Once they were out of earshot, Bucky said, “One night surely isn’t enough to know what I like, is it?”

Even if you had never seen it before, it was obvious the bright light coming from the giant, cracked open doors hinted at the library. Doors from floor to ceiling, heavy and intimidating. They were entirely black except for the elaborate gold art depicting two women, heads bowed and facing each other. You could hear low voices from within, probably Maxwell and Wenrel.

You snorted softly, chuckling afterward. “Your game is a little weak there, James.”

The air is knocked from your lungs when your back hits the wall. Bucky’s metal hand cradled the back of your head, a shield, perhaps the one place he protects now from unconscious instinct.

“Shortcake…Goddess,” Bucky breathed, his lips parting near your neck. Hot air immediately incited goosebumps along your skin. “What do you want me to do?”

“Huh?” Your voice was nearly high-pitched, embarrassing. Bucky Barnes had never shoved you against a wall before. He shoved you into a mattress—but a wall with his thigh between yours, his flesh hand squeezing your waist? This was the tension the two of you should have explored before jumping into bed together. Tension Bucky Barnes had decided he wanted to start now, in Hell, in the middle of a damn hallway.

“What—” He squeezed your waist tighter, lips now hovering dangerously close to where your pulse should be. Gently, he bit down. “Do you want me to do to you?”

The whimper you released was involuntary. Your hips moved on their own accord, making you grind down on the muscle of his thigh. Bucky chuckled deeply and glanced down, watching the way that made you grind again.

“I—” you choked. Bucky licked the area of your neck he bit, then kissed it.

“Don’t think for one minute that I haven’t thought about your legs around my waist again. Or those hands on my body. Or your taste, your noises, your tight, wet—”

“Bucky…”

“Hmm?”

Dragging your hands up his neck, you gripped the hair at the base and pulled him back. Meeting his eyes, you whispered, “I don’t know what I want right now.”

Bucky stilled, a low groan caught in his throat. If you didn’t know any better, you would say Bucky was disappointed. But it’s a groan laced with desire, desire that had been brewing for months, and was no way judgmental.

And before you could explain to Bucky you meant that you didn’t know what you wanted right now, the answer to his question, Bucky extracted himself from you. The loss of his heat almost made you cry out.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, a smirk on his lovely face. “But Goddess, know this. When you do know, it better include me behind you, in front of a mirror, so you can never unsee it.”

Then he turned, the half bun on his head bouncing with each step.

~

    Maxwell’s eyes were burning. Words upon words flooded his sore vision, their meanings compounded. In fact, he may have forgotten how to form words altogether. These were letters. Pure, meaningless letters.

In his past life, when the threat of death was a mere fact of life itself, he had worked as a printer. Conducting research, drawing, bookkeeping. This type of work was not foreign, but it was time-consuming. It was kind of shitty for Hades to not offer him a different role down here, but Maxwell always had a knack for changing dirt into gold.

As for what he was currently researching… Well, he tried not to let the lack of information discourage him.

Infertility was not a grave issue amongst the Gods. Every book he had opened told him just that, that it wasn’t much of a problem at all. Practically nonexistent.

So that posed the question: How were the Fates able to curse a God with it?

The books didn’t reveal much. Stories about Gods themselves who cursed humans, but not vice versa. Nor did any God curse another God with it. Maxwell would argue, however, that Athena basically cursed Medusa out of disgusting jealousy.

One thing was a repetitive occurrence in his reading. All Gods were tied to life and death—the ability to create life, and the ability to incite death. So Maxwell’s only theory is that your powers already fulfill its use. With a flick of your wrist, you create life. With the same flick, you take it away.

To reverse a curse would be to enlist the expertise of someone who had way more experience with curses than he.

Maxwell raised his eyes from the book in front of him, focusing on the wall as he also strained his ears. His lips twitched in response, and he prepared himself as the footsteps grew closer. He waited, waited—

“Throw it, Darling, and we’ll see what happens when you ruin my eyeliner.”

Wenrel released a loud hmpf as she collected her waterball back within herself. She stomped her little feet across the tables until she came upon his. Sidestepping the books and all his half-eaten pastries, she sat on the only empty plate available.

Maxwell raised his teacup to his mouth as Wenrel complained, “I can’t seem to ever sneak up on you. It isn’t fair.”

“I can hear you splashing from a mile away.”

“Liar.”

He doesn’t tell Wenrel she’ll most likely never sneak up on him, that for some odd reason, he can feel her presence in any room in the palace.

“How does the new skin feel?” she asked, picking at the strawberry tart Maxwell had only bit into once. She popped a few crumbs into her mouth.

Maxwell shrugged. “Fifty years I lived with that shit. Now I can’t remember the feeling at all.”

He won’t miss it. He did not miss the spikes protruding from his skin, skin that was both his and not. Not for one second did he miss it. He doesn’t miss being mistaken for a goblin, or a demon, or a nymph. He doesn’t miss countless lovers avoiding his arms or his shins, his hands and his stomach.

His curse was lifted. Now he vowed to help his Goddess with hers.

“That sounds lovely.”

“It is.” Then with a frown, Maxwell continued, “I haven’t found anything yet, Darling. I’m sorry.”

Ever since Hades assigned him this job, he’s been trying to find a reversal for Wenrel’s curse too. He had met her when she was already this size. He had taken one look at her and sighed, enveloped in her, in whatever she was. They clicked, everything clicked, and they’ve been friends ever since.

Perhaps his only friend.

Wenrel sighed, crossing her legs and leaning back on one elbow. She continued to eat crumbs. “Don’t apologize. I doubt I’ll ever be myself again.”

“I didn’t think I would, and now look at me.”

“You’re the same ol’ Maxwell to me,” she said, smiling. But that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.  “So…How’s Titiana?”

Maxwell rolled his eyes at the change in subject. “Not seeing her anymore.”

“Of course you’re not.”

“She went back to her husband.”

Wenrel yelped, finally throwing that waterball at his shoulder. It splashed lightly, droplets wetting his left cheek. “Scoundrel!”

“The one and only.” Another waterball. “Hey—She was the one who cheated!”

“You encouraged it!”

“Darling, if you would have seen the way her mouth wrapped around my—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll tell Hades you held me over a flame.” He immediately shut his mouth. Wenrel was like a daughter to Hades, and Gods help any man who crossed her. “Good boy.”

Maxwell grumbled, shifting in his chair. She always called him that, and it did things to him. Things that shouldn’t be happening. “Don’t call me that.”

Wenrel scoffed, “Don’t make everything so sexual.”

He brushed off the comment. Instead, he looked down at the book laid open in front of him. He couldn't remember what he was reading before Wenrel interrupted. “I’ll keep looking, Wen. I’ve just added our new resident Goddess’s favor to the list, so.”

“Ah. The infertility curse.”

Maxwell nodded. “Bruce Banner’s medical examination showed no internal damage. The curse is the blockage. Break the curse, break the blockage.”

“Curses. Our most annoying foes,” Wenrel fussed, crossing her arms.

“And you? When we break your curse—” Because there was no if, “Will you miss being like this?”

She looked at him, shaking her head, persistent. “No. I miss when people could touch me. And I them.”

Maxwell flinched as she said it. He always bragged about his exploits, about the amount of skin people allowed him to touch, to lick, to explore. To live without such a touch, such a beautiful shared thing, was quite unimaginable. Sure, Wenrel can touch others—to hang onto them, to hit them, to shoot them with waterballs. But she couldn’t touch them. And yet, Wenrel has been living without it for several hundred years. He’s never asked her if she was intimately touched before. The thought always made him…protective.

He opened his mouth, about to lift the conversation and steer it back to something less serious, when voices interrupted his thoughts. He and Wenrel snapped their necks in opposite directions. Only to find his Goddess and the Winter Soldier entering the library from the entrance, and Sam and Elva entering from the back rooms.

~

    “Are you kidding me, Samuel?” Bucky scolded, extending his arms out in that obvious what the fuck motion. You giggled next to him.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Uh-oh. My full name.”

“You’re damn right I’m using your full name. What the hell were you thinking about leaving your room to wander around alone without backup?”

Elva tilted her head, confused. “He was not alone. I was with him.”

Bucky tried his best to smile at her. “No offense, but you could have killed him.”

You interrupted, gripping Bucky’s shoulder in a silent order to stop talking. “Or you could have stumbled across something dangerous, Sam.”

“All I found were paintings and Elva. And I haven’t even explored every floor of this place yet.”

Bucky nodded, agreeing with Sam’s statement the backhanded way. “Not tonight you won’t.”

“Getting a little up my ass there, Buck.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere near your ass, Sam.”

Maxwell threw his arms in the air, Wenrel now on his left shoulder. She conducted the same motion with her own arms. “Welcome, all! To the Underworld library.”

Bucky fumed quietly, the rage building in his stomach. Sam could have gotten hurt. Whether he found Elva and she proved innocent or not, he could have gotten hurt. The very thing that almost took Sam away from him could have easily found him again tonight. Bucky turned and pointed directly at Maxwell. “And this fucker—“

“Woah! Woah! Okay,” you announced, stepping in the middle of the tiny square everybody had created. “Let’s all calm down.”

“Mr. Let me abandon the humans during dinner with fucking Hades over here!” Bucky continued, ignoring your squinted eyes.

“He told me to get started on research. I skipped on his orders,” Maxwell explained.

You gave Maxwell a small smile.

No. Nope. Maxwell shouldn’t be getting any of your smiles. And the fucker eats them up too, like he can’t get enough of them. “A knock on our doors to apologize and say goodnight would have been appreciated,” you told Maxwell.

Before Bucky could intervene, Maxwell responded, “Didn’t know you wanted me to tuck you in, Mother Earth.”

Wenrel giggled, pulling at Maxwell’s detached earlobe. “She is the Earth’s mother, and you’re flirting with her?”

“Like I haven’t flirted with other Gods and Goddesses before.”

“Trust me, Maxwell. We know,” Elva shot, looking disgusted. “We share a bedroom wall.”

Sam raised a hand, looking up at the massive bookcases that towered over everyone’s heads. Bucky hadn’t had a chance to marvel at the wondrous supply of reading material because of how heated he was, but he could spare a second.

White and black bookcases housing books with spines of all colors, all titles, all sizes. Perhaps a thirty-foot tall room, the ladders attached to the stacks were half of that. Some books were scattered and randomly placed on the desks, as if the librarians only worked at certain hours. Or maybe this was the purpose. The more cluttered a library looked, the more used it seemed to be.

But then that would make searching for certain titles an absolute nightmare.

Sam asked, “Can I get a tour of the library?”

“Can you get it in the morning?” Bucky countered.

“Okay!" you exclaimed, holding your arms up as a signal. “Sam, it’s the first night. James will not let me go to bed unless you follow us out. Maxwell, keep flirting. It helps my ego. James, you know I’ll help you drag him out by the ears, so don’t stress.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Not until Bucky apologizes to Elva for assuming she would outright kill me.”

“Anybody here can outright kill us,” you tried to reason.

“Yet, Elva’s been nothing but kind to us.”

Elva turned to Sam, an angry expression across her blushed face. “I do not need his apology.”

“Fuck shit, you’re getting it. Buck—“

“I’m sorry,” Bucky quickly obliged. Annoyance flashed through his eyes, but his apology was sincere. Bucky didn’t mean to villainize her. Especially since people still look at him and see a cold-blooded killer. “I’m just angry at the bird.”

Elva glared Bucky down, but her expression only lasted so long before Sam conceded to Bucky’s demands.

“I didn’t travel far,” Sam grumbled, bumping both your and Bucky’s shoulder when he passed in between. Without looking back, Sam called out, “I’ll share my location next time!”

“In Hell?” Bucky watched Sam go, shame immediately poisoning his veins. He didn’t mean to treat him like a child. But when either Bucky or Sam scold another, especially one another, it was exactly that.

“He should…he should be scared, no? He was the one ripped apart by a demon. He was the one who blasted in and needed to protect me from the portal. What is going on with him?” Bucky asked you, ignoring Maxwell’s soft goodnight behind him. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

You hummed, and took Bucky’s metal hand as you walked alongside him. “But satisfaction brought him back.”

~

   They weren’t home.

After his comment last night, Peter Parker fully expected the two lovebirds to book a hotel room and go at it. They could have left a note or a text, but it’s whatever.

But Sam? Sam didn’t mention going out last night, nor did he shoot Peter a text telling him to not wait up. Peter had just arrived back to the apartment with a very hungry Alpine clawing at his work boots. After feeding her, he found Sam’s bed still made and Bucky’s room empty. He found nothing in the apartment next door either.

“Sam?” Peter tried again, but it was pointless. He’d hear Sam’s heartbeat if he was anywhere near the apartment at least.

Peter busied himself with mail, breakfast, and TV before finally deciding to call. When Sam’s voicemail greeted him, he tried again. And again. And again. Then he called Margot, Sam’s personal assistant, but she hadn’t heard from him. She promised to track him down, but Peter was only half listening.

Something felt wrong. He could crawl along the side of every hotel building and peek into the windows in hopes of finding the whereabouts of at least two of his friends, but that would scar him for life. Plus, it felt a bit stalkerish.

It hasn’t even been a full day. Probably only twelve hours. Waiting a little bit longer could prove smart. Sam could walk into the apartment right now.

Yeah.

He’ll wait a little bit longer.

~

TAGLIST:  @fandoms-writings @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @natbarnes1917​ @howlermonkey69 @shirukitsune @sentimental-for-maneskin

[professorrw]

Seven Minutes In Heaven

marvel masterlist

Pairing: shy female reader x Wanda Maximoff

Request: wanda x reader story— this is honestly just me projecting at this point lol, but i’ve never been to a party✌️😀so maybe a seven minutes in heaven vibe with the team? feel free to add smut as well

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, thigh riding, denied orgasm, drinking, partying, embarrassed reader, mentions of Nat x Steve

A/N: Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Maybe you didn’t grow up like a normal teen, or maybe you were just shy, either way you had never played the game ‘Seven Minutes In Heaven.’ You knew what it was but you’d never played it. And how strange it was that the first time you would be at a party hosted by Tony Stark. You’d think that super heroes between the ages of twenty and one thousand five hundred years old wouldn’t play that kind of game. But at that point you couldn’t put anything past your makeshift family.

Everyone other than you, Clint, Bruce, Tasha, Tony, Steve, Thor, Wanda, and Pietro had left already. You couldn’t blame them. It was four in the morning and the music was on full blast all night. Most of the guests would be going home with headaches and waking up with them too.

Most of the group was drinking. Everyone other than Steve, who couldn’t feel the side effects of alcohol. So if you really thought about Steve was going to be the only one with a sound mind. You and Wanda both had a drink or two, but not enough to be drunk, just a little tipsy. The most drunk was Thor, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest.

Natasha finished off her beer, the last resort when it came to drinking in her opinion, and set it down on the circular table you were all seated around.

“Let’s play a game,” she suggested, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“What’d you have in mind?” Thor asked.

“How about,” she smirked, looking at you and Wanda, “seven minutes in heaven?” She shot you a wink, knowing how bad you had it for Wanda. If that was her idea of a way to get you to confess, maybe she was on the right track. The liquid confidence flowing through you was more than you normally had and what other time would you have the guts to say something?

“What is that?” Thor asked. “Are we supposed to take turns killing someone and then bringing them back to life after seven minutes?”

You threw your head back and laughed, and Thor grinned too even though he didn’t know what was so funny.

“No, it’s where you take turns picking two people to go into a closet or room or whatever and set a timer for seven minutes and you can’t let them out until the time is up. And usually what they’re supposed to do is kiss and make out and such.” Natasha explained it so well that you questioned how many times she had played the game.

“Ah, I see. Well let’s get on with it!” Thor shouted.

Tony was slouched down in the seat next to him and swatted at his arm. “Keep it down would ya? I’ll play the game as long as no one’s too loud. My head is already throbbing.”

Clint chuckled, “Are you sure all that alcohol is good for your… machine there?”

Tony rolled his head over to look at Clint with a glare. “My machine is perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Would you grandpas quit it? We’re trying to play a game,” Wanda huffed.

“Yeah, yeah, just start already.” Tony tossed his hand up in the air and waved you guys on without much effort, making his wrist look like jelly.

“Okay, Tony since you have so much to say, why don’t you go first?” Natasha asked.

“I think I will.” He sat up and looked around surveying the group. He did that for a good two minutes before he finally said anything. “I choose… Natasha and Steve.”

Steve, who had been silent that whole time, looked over at Natasha, who wiggled her eyebrows and started to get up. Steve followed and you noticed how he had a little pep in his step. From what you could tell three out of the five original male Avengers had a crush on Nat. You couldn’t blame them, she was gorgeous.

You picked up your phone and started the timer for seven minutes as soon as the broom closet door shut. Wanda, who was sitting next to you, looked over and watched the time tick down.

“What do you think they’re up to?” she asked. Her small smirk and half lidded eyes were enough to make you catch your breath. She wasn’t trying to look seductive but she sure did to you.

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “What do you think Pietro?” To alleviate the pressure of looking and talking to Wanda you addressed Pietro, hoping the attention would no longer be on you.

Your crush's twin leaned forward and looked at you from across Wanda. “I bet they’re kissing. I don’t think the Captain would do anything more than that for a game.” You heard Bruce make a noise from across the table but you didn’t pay him any mind. You knew he liked Nat too, but he never made a move on her, so he couldn’t get mad.

“I’m not so sure, brother. Maybe Natasha wants to do more than that. I could see something happening between those two.” Wanda furrowed her brow and squinted her eyes up at the ceiling, thinking.

There was more random talking for a few minutes until your phone began to chime, signaling that their time was up.

“Guys!” you shouted, “Times up!”

“Oh my god I’m going to bed.” Tony got up from the couch and left the room, scowling all the way there. Meanwhile the door to the broom closet had opened, and out stepped Natasha and Steve. There was no visible sign of them doing anything, but you still eyed them suspiciously. Tasha caught your eye and smiled before reclining back in her seat.

“So I guess I’ll choose next. I want Y/N and,” she eyed each of the players left before settling on the person next to you. “Wanda.”

On the inside you were beaming and your heart was fluttering. On the outside you were nervous. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the sudden feat. Wanda wasted no time and shot up from her seat. With enlarged eyes you stared up at the red head, who was wearing a smirk on her face.

"Come on beautiful, it's our turn." She beckoned you to follow her and you did, trailing behind her with wolf whistles in your wake. Once you two were gone Natasha and Pietro shared a smile. They both knew your feelings, and talked about their plan to get you two together. Pietro was able to get his sister to admit that she had feelings for you earlier that night, and the operation was a go from there.

Wanda's sultry smile wasn't disappearing. She was beyond happy that you were paired together. She shut and locked the door behind you, and pressed you against it. Your breath hitched and your whole body was tingling and on edge. Wanda's skilled hands held onto your waist and her breath was on your neck.

In her seductive Sokovian accent she said, “I’ve been wanting to do this for months.” Her lips pressed against the soft and sensitive skin on the center column on your neck, sucking and nibbling on it. You had been holding a breath the whole time, but when her skin touched yours your mouth fell open and a moan escaped involuntarily. Wanda grabbed hold of your hair and pulled back, giving her more access to mark you.

Your hands were shaky, and she could tell how nervous you were. She pulled back and slipped her hands into yours. “If you don’t want to do this I can understand,” she said while she looked into your eyes. All forms of seduction were gone, she was genuinely concerned about you.

You shook your head so fast it felt like your brain was spinning. “No, no. I do want this. I’m just nervous. I really like you and I don’t want to mess up.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t know what I’m doing either, I’m just going with the flow… and doing what feels right.” She put one of her hands on your cheek, the metal of one of her rings stinging against the warmth of your face.

“We can take this as slow as you like,” Wanda whispered.

You bit your bottom lip and nodded, but Wanda pulled your lip out with her thumb. She looked you in the eye and hesitated for some sign for her to go on. You took the chance to lean in, capturing her lips with yours. She was an amazing kisser, though you couldn’t say much, you hadn’t kissed many people before. Her kiss was electric, sending jolts through your entire body, even places you didn’t know could be affected by a simple kiss.

Your back arched into her, pressing your crotch against hers. She moaned, tugging on your lip. Her hands went to your behind, landing on your butt and squeezing it tight. Even after her words she could sense your hesitancy.

“Go ahead, beautiful, explore me.”

You did as told, letting your hands trail up her stomach under her shirt and up to the lacy fabric of her bra. To support her weakening knees she slotted one in between your legs, hiking up the fabric of your dress and pressing her slacks against your wet underwear. You scooted further down the door, making the fabric rub even more. Without thinking you started to slide back and forth on her thigh. Wanda thought it was sexy, seeing you getting on with her leg, rubbing your slick cunt against her for relief.

You realized what you were doing and panicked, eyes shooting open in alarm. She laughed quietly, the ring in her voice more beautiful than anything else you had heard before. It eased your nerves and when she told you to go on you weren’t so nervous anymore.

Wanda helped you, putting her hands on your hips to guide you and moving her thigh to meet your movement. You held onto her shoulders, head falling forward and hair fanning around your face. Wanda wanted to see your face. She thought it was beautiful. She tilted your head back up so she could look at you. You tried to hide your face, somewhat embarrassed by how much pleasure you were getting out of the experience.

“You don’t have to shy away, I think you look amazing. Even when you’re moaning,” she added with a smirk.

“Wanda,” you started, trying to tell her that it wasn’t true.

“Shh, you don’t have to say anything. Just ride me until you cum darling.”

You did. You kept on riding her, at some point pulling your panties to the side so your bare pussy was against her. You were moaning for sure, but you tried to stay quiet, knowing that everyone outside would hear if you were too loud. Your peak was near, not too much to go until you would have your orgasm right there on Wanda’s pants.

“Okay love birds! Time’s up!” Natasha yelled from the other side of the door. You gasped, the feeling of Wanda’s thigh leaving you. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to appease yourself but it was to no use.

“We’ll continue this later,” Wanda whispered. She could tell you were struggling but everyone would know what you were up to if you stayed any longer, they may even open the door themselves. You pulled your dress back down and got yourself situated and Wanda checked over you, making sure that you looked presentable.

She opened the door and everyone was staring. Heat, unbearable, searing heat, rose to your face, undoubtedly turning it scarlet. You scurried to your seat and tried to drown in the couch. Wanda excused herself, walking to the bathroom with your eyes trailing after her. You weren’t sure what she was going to do, but she was actually going to clean your juices off her pants. As much as she would have loved to represent you, she knew how embarrassed you would be if everyone saw the glistening on the black fabric.

[aicidos]

“ i never meant to hurt you, i fucked up. ” hey lol

urban flora sentences.  ♡  *  accepting !  @brightfear.  

   the same ritual of floors swept, lights turned off, and keys stabbing locks.

   among the things that never changed: he thought about constants often. maybe as much as he did about jax. siwon thought of himself as a fixed thing merely caught in the city’s inertia or, for better or worse, people’s orbits. yet, that gentle pull—that dense gravity his hands found malleable under his mind’s command—wouldn’t have kept him in jax’s perimeter had siwon not willingly surrendered to it first. it became an active choice before it was even conscious, and he had a hard time explaining that logic to himself. there were other questions, doubts along the lines of is it too much? is it too little? is this even real? real enough to be named?

   eventually, visits grew scarce, siwon’s own messages slowly withheld for fear of something— desire had always liked to make a fool of him, his young heart. 

   he wanted to know the variables jax, his life, was configured of. and maybe, naively, he wanted to be a part of them, too; something like the worn-out leather jacket at the forefront of his closet, a bookmark overseeing his most recent read. siwon thought of the flowers jax took home from his shop, thinking of himself as an extension of them, wondering what use they were to him. what use he was to jax, the use he could be, were he let in those crevices, his silences, his disappearances. 

   amidst that endless stream of what-ifs siwon considered, he never thought of apologies as part of them.

   in that moment, taken aback by jax’s figure surfacing in the night, he wondered if he should have. there was a discomfort of sorts, akin to a paper cut suddenly stinging. he wanted it to flare with hope: that jax’s apology was a beginning. otherwise, the end of a distance. he raised his gaze towards the buzzing lamp, the lonely street. “...i thought hearing that would make me happier,” siwon confessed, plain in his honesty. a complex smile surfaced, briefly. “i think i wanted an i missed you more,” it’s a doubt that was uttered as much for himself as it was for jax, and he let the breeze soften the already-tender edges of it. 

“i’ve always figured you liked your space. so much so, i wondered if you wanted me to play into it, so... i didn’t.” the image of himself rendered disposable was numbing, but only just so. the desire eclipsed it. “jax,” he began, his voice simple and quiet, “what’s so threatening to you? about me, about… us.”

[minshookie]

Invasion of Privacy.

Pairing | mafia!yandere!Joon x Reader

Genre | smut, angst, gore, yandere.

Summary | “while Joon is at work unwanted company comes to visit, opening your eyes to unwanted secrets.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language , mentioned sexual acts, smut (just a little bit), violence, background character death, naive reader insert, dumbification, caretaker Joon.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [closed for request] words: 2k.

A/N | I struggled LOL But it’s finally here! I hope you enjoy. Forgive my mistakes please 💜

“Ready for breakfast hm?” Joon Spoke softly head resting in the crook of your neck, blanketing you with his warm damp body. “Yeah I guess.” Butterflies still fluttering in your tummy from the activities you both just enjoyed. “Mm well I’m not trying for waffles today kitten I have to go to work, so think of something quick.” He yawned before taking the tender skin of your neck between his supple lips again, sucking you in nibbling playfully. “Joonie when will Mary be back, I like her breakfast.” Almost whining. He chucked against you, “I told you Mary will be back after she’s had her baby.”

Feeling pouty you huff no motivation to eat knowing he’ll be leaving you soon. yawing you simply shrugged away the idea of this mornings breakfast. “Cereal again hm? If you insist.” He groaned pulling his self up on his forearms, gazing down at your connected bodies, he glided out with ease sighing in pleasure. Leaving you feeling empty yet warmly stuffed full. “I’ll be back, you stay put.” He began to walk towards the closet, watching silently in admiration. “Wait!” Stopping he turned. “Panties?” You request, fully knowing he’d get them for you. “Panties...of course.” He swiftly turned pulling some from the drawer. You reached for them, softly swatting your hand he went to your legs. “Up.” Complying, you let him dress your bottom half. “Being needy this morning i see,need a shirt too?” You nodded, letting him dress you again. “Alright cereal coming right up babybug.” He gave you a sweet Eskimo kiss before leaving.

His heavy steps thumped the hardwood stars, getting softer and softer before they disappeared. Never could you have imagined a simple round of dates would land you here, wrapped in Eucalyptus sheets, in the middle of a giant bed, upstairs of a Manson. Getting loved daily by a man with millions to his name. Your face began to grow warmer of subtle humiliation as you felt your heat drip of him. This whole situation felt like a long, long fairytale dream and you were loving every minute of it. Your reminiscing was cut short by the thudding of Joon’s feet coming up the stairs, finally he renters a smile on his face dimples prominent. Obviously proud of his limited culinary skills.

“A sugary cereal for the sweetest person I know, and a fruit cup too.” He walked slowly with he bed table careful not to spill. “c’mon get up and eat.” You sat up wide eyed ready for the meal he set before you. “What do you say greedy girl?” He held you back from the simple breakfast. “Thank you Joonie.” He nodded in approval letting go. “Remember, drink your milk, clean up your mess...eat all your fruit.”

He walked to the bathroom letting you eat in peace. You obliged his orders enjoying your modest breakfast quickly. Soon though, you started swaying the rose gold spoon around in the matching bowl watching the bland cereal chase each other. You’d finished all the marshmallows, you knew Joon would protest. Finishing the milk you began to pluck your favorites from the small fruit bowl, growing bored rather quickly.

“Joonie!” You beckoned, cheek full of berries. “yeah!” He yelled over the heavy patter of the shower. “Can I watch TV?” Tightly you closed your eyes in wishful thinking. “No Princess, it’s too early you know that, don’t you?!” You huffed, swallowing your fruit. “Yes!” He didn’t respond expecting you to eat the rest if your breakfast, in your true fashion you ignored the kiwi and bland cereals uneaten in protest of no early morning TV.

Annoyingly you shifted uncomfortably along the plush mattress once again. The once comforting fullness you felt now just starting to make an unpleasant mess...“Joonie!” “Y/n!” He yelled back while exiting the bathroom, his body glistening the scent of his masculine body wash and cologne engulfing the room. “I need to shower, I’m making a mess.” You stated shyly, making him smile in laughter.

“A mess huh, why don’t you take care of it?” He asked knowingly making you pout, he walked closer picking up the clear bowl, kiwi left behind. “Ah, eat this.” He held the green fruit between his fingers. “Eat one at least.” He rubbed it along your parted lips, you obliged his glare making you feel small. “Do I have to start giving you my cereal seems your tummy is getting full on sweets before you make it to the real breakfast?” Teasing he took it upon himself to finish the cereals.

“What do you say?” “Sorry for not finishing.” no way could you disobey him. “Good,Tell me about this mess though.” He inquired placing a kiwi slice in his mouth, walking to his suit closet letting his towel fall, he was already clad in his briefs. “You know!” He chuckled “I do? Oh is it my cum baby?” He stated lewdly while pulling out a dark suit. “Joon c’mon!” You whined, moving the the table. “Well Y/n if you wanted my help you should’ve joined me in the shower, you spoiled little brat.” He began to get dressed, “go wipe, go shower, and I’ll have someone clean the sheets yeah?” You rolled from the warm bed, a breeze catching your wet spot. “Yeah.” He smoothed the suit out over him , choosing a belt. “C’mon, I’m going to work big girl panties y/n go clean up please.” You took your time to walk past him , secretly wanting him to stay. You hoped he’d feel bad if you played hurt, or incapable of washing up maybe he’d stay late to help.

With a sigh of disapproval he turned from watching you walk begrudgingly in the mirror, giving your bottom a firm tap. “Now please so I can see you before I go okay?” Nodding you did as told, your scheme unsuccessful you resorted to complying. Striping and folding your clothes before throwing them in the hamper. Pulling the body wash, hand picked by Joon you lathered and showered as throughly and quickly as you could. Examining the dark areas he’d left behind, your neck,legs, and stomach, even scattering some along your pelvic area. Namjoon was extremely through when putting his claim over you, not like he had any competition. “All day kitten?” He knocked lightly on the door. The time spent Wandering in your thoughts taking a little longer than Joon’s liking you followed routine rinsing and turning off the water, drying you left with the plush towel around you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, an outfit laid over his thigh. “All dry?” You nodded catching a slight shiver, “you sure?” He called you over with a finger, tenderly he unwrapped you taking it upon himself to make sure you were dried, helping dress you as well. “When do you have to go Joon?” “Now.” Sighing you fell into his chest for a hug. “Yeah yeah, c’mon I gotta go love.” He kissed your cheek. “Kiss me before I go.” You pulled out of the crook of his neck latching onto his lips. Grabbing your neck he took the lead invading your mouth lustfully with his own. “Still taste sweet hm, remember to brush your teeth, lunch at twelve,have a snack around four, I’ll be home for dinner...and do not open the door.” You nodded your hands still in his. “I have a friend downstairs okay anything you can’t take care of...and I don’t mean the little things...ask him okay?” “Okay.” You crawled into bed avoiding the soiled area.

He got up smoothing his suit over again. “Uhm Joonie-” “I know I know.” He threw the remote to you before leaving. “See you later my pretty girl, remember I’ll know if you’re naughty. ” You smile turning on the TV. “See you later.”

After tedious hours of watching, and flipping through channels you enviably you became extremely bored with the flashing pictures playing before you. The nap you’d gifted yourself earlier began to wear off, you were sure it’s already been two hours, nobody’s came for the sheets. Strange of the morning staff to forget that. Rolling your eyes, you brushed off their neglect sitting up from the bed striping the stained sheets.

As bored as you were, you didn’t mind the walk down to the wash room. Once you gained balance of the heavy load, the trek began, only able to peak over the large bundle the stairs were a challenge. Once conquered you repositioned the bundle in your arms beginning to weigh on you. “Hey I brought the sheets for you!” Too lazy to complete the mission at hand, you tossed the sheets on the nearest couch, throwing yourself in the seat next to them. “Hello?!” Nobody seemed to call back as you voice deflected off of the walls. No way would they leave you all alone.

You stood from your seat, leaving the laundry behind as curiosity got the best of you. Where had everyone gone? You could’ve sworn you heard Joon conversing with them before he left. Roaming past the kitchen, Joon’s left his cutting board and knife out fruit juice displayed across the marble surface. Nobodies been on their job, and to think of it you haven’t seen or heard Joon’s friend he’d left for you yet.

You hated being alone, and Joon knew that. He wouldn’t leave you that way. Meandering down the elongated hall, which located staff bedrooms leaving a firm knock on the door....nothing. Fear draped over you the silence becoming too loud, taking panicked strides leaving the hall. Wandering the house looking for any other life form. Until you met face to face with a forbidden room. Joon’s office. Throwing rules away you griped the stubborn knob. Locked damn. “Help.” Whimpering like a kicked puppy you kept searching. “Joonie.” Wandering around, like you were lost in your own house, you skipped down the small flight of stairs, the washroom maybe they’re in there ...a dumb thought but this is the only room you haven’t rampaged.

Swinging the fragile door, a pungent rusting scent crashed into you. “And who the fuck are you?” Frozen in the door frame your brain fell blank. A group of men you’d never met covered in drying blood. The staff and who seemed to be Jungkook, sat lifelessly bound by their legs and arms in chairs in a perfect line. “Where’d come from?” Unable to speak you stared into the glossed eyes of people you once called friends. “Where’d you fucking come from!” Your mouth dried nervously, unsure what to answer...“Bed-bedroom ups-stairs.” They shared a look with each other, the only visible feature being their eyes. “Well you see these dunces doll...they lied...you won’t do that huh?” You shook your head, “Jungkook...he doesn’t lie.” They all laughed in frenzy. “No but he sure does fight back, don’t do that either...c’mon over here princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” You stepped only one step closer, in fear of getting near the corpses. “Alright, heard...who are you?” Fiddling with your shirt you looked to your toes. “C’mon baby answer honestly or I’ll have to...sit you down.” You looked up, hot tears piercing your eyes begging to fall. “I’m y/n...Joon’s girlfriend.” Nodding in approval, someone in the back butted in. “He fuck you good?”You sniffled, looking back and forth between the few of them. “Don’t answer that, we don’t give a fuck about that....here’s the real test, where’s Namjoon hiding hmm?”

Oh, that’s easy, “Joon...he’s at work.” Scoffing in disbelief he reached behind him into his back pocket. “One more time cutie, where’s your little boyfriend.” Wide eyed your mouth quivered with no words. “I told you he’s at work.” He turned to his darkly dressed men “get a fucking chair, you y/n go sit in it.” You turned to run, a gun shot landed above you dry wall crumbling. “Sit your tight ass in that chair, or the next bullet will be buried in your chest.” Frozen in your tracks, you knew siting would land you right where Jungkook was. “Kim Namjoon is at work you won’t find him here!” Shaken you peered over your shoulder.

“Okay...okay, where does he work huh?” You turned back towards the stairs. “Uhm...I-I I’m not sure...big business I think, he has suits and a home office and people p-people follow him-” your rambling in cold sweat was cut short by the sound of bullets ricocheting along the cement walls. “Get out of the fucking way you dense bitch!” Unable to see your hero you rushed past him bolting away as quick as you could, blinded by tears. Eventually you fumbled into someone. “Hey hey y/n you hurt?” “JOONIE!” You climbed him his voice mesmerizing you. “Joonie it was disgusting, joonie please help.” The commotion still echoing in the wash room, Joon took his large hands over your ears guiding you upstairs into your shared room.

Finally silence to comfort you a wave of anger rushed over you as you processed your situation. Your ears pulsating. “Y/n...I’m so sorry princess.” All you could do was fall back onto the bare mattress. “Please do- who are they?” He sighed rubbing the back of his neck. “Business rivals.” He leans a leg on the maters caressing your thigh. “Joon don’t fucking lie I almost died.” He swatted your exposed tummy. “Hey don’t talk to me like that y/n.” Tears of anger replacing fear, “is this a game to you am I a damn toy to you...Joon I know you’re not telling me the truth and it hurts.”

He sat on the bed with an aggravated groan, you laid back staring at the smooth ceiling. “Y/n it’s best if you don’t know.” “Joon I’ll leave. Tonight i almost got my brai-” he darkly chuckled cutting you off “and to where, c’mon where?” You breathed deeply with anger. “I’ll- uhm...” “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you, face it you’d be fucked over without me.” You rolled over, you could scream your figure shook in frustration. “I’ve pulled you in and treated you like a queen and you want to leave because you had to dodge a bullet?” “Please stop, Joon I’m leaving.” You sat up only to be pushed down, “you’ll die without me bitch, there are eyes on you, you take one step out of my house your just as good bounty as me.” What bullshit has this motherfucker pulled you into.

“Plus I’ve had you here, dumbed you down so much you can’t even shower right, let alone live alone, I feed your ass, wipe your ass, clean your disgusting ass, dress you, protect you, service waiting on you every damn hour of the day...fuck you how you please never how I please and yet you wanna go?!” Tears spilled from you, he straddled you peering maliciously, never has Joon spoken to you this way.

In surprise the door swung open, making your stomach drop, Yoongi’s face speckled red. “Joon it’s Guk he’s dead.” “Get out.” His voice flat no emotion present Yoongi obliged slamming the door on his way. “You even got one of my men-” “no.” You earned a slap like no other for cutting him off “I’ve trained you so much better, so much better than to cut me off and to snitch on me...I was at work huh...they wouldn’t find me here huh?” You couldn’t respond, the left side of your face throbbing from the assault. “Once I caught word of the invasion I check the cameras for you and low and behold your mouth never fucking shut...saving yourself? Fucking cunt.” You looked away from his accusing gaze.

“No words? Just how I like you...now be a good girl, apologize.” “I love-e you joo-nie I’m sorry.” You recite from memory. “I love you too, don’t ever disobey me again, and don’t you dare try to leave if you do, I’ll blow the little brains you have let by myself.” Tears pooled your face causing him to smirk. “Remember I own you, everything you are, everything you want, everything you believe, is mine to keep.”

Not my image

[cloud9in]

Promises (Poppy x MC) Part (2/?)

Read Part ONE (summary for fic is there)

ITS BEEN A MINUTE. @iamsimpforpoppy I hope you’re still around to read :P I love this story lol. Hope you guys do too!!!

Word Count (2.8k)

Bea and Poppy’s relationship became official a month after their initial meeting. One would say they moved quickly, too quickly. But every love story is different. This one in particular seemed to have little to none flaws, if you ignored the fact that Bea was promoted to Carter’s right hand woman in the Southside Spades.

 They did end up having that conversation after all.

 “…Are you sure Carter? I mean this is a huge deal and a special role-“

 “If I didn’t think you were capable you wouldn’t be here right now Goldilocks.”

 Carter winked and clinked his half empty beer bottle against Bea’s, who surprisingly had a nearly full bottle. He took note of the abnormality. 

 The blonde instinctively rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Okay but that name has to go. We need codenames……ooooh how about bimbo and himbo.” 

 “I’m guessing…..no, hoping I’m the himbo?!” Carter comments as he promptly tries to stop the laugh escaping from his lips.

 “Mmmmmmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”

 They share a laugh and Bea feels Carter’s gaze latch onto her in her peripherals. She could sense the shift of energy in the space between them, it almost felt uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt with Carter. “I never asked you if you were okay with such a role. If you aren't, I understand completely, I just want the best for you.”

 The blonde eyes soften at his comment and she looks at him, “never doubted that, where is this going though because you never express your feelings like a normal human being.”

 He pulls on the strings of her hoodie until it completely caves around her face, burying her whole.

 “Hey asshole!” 

 “That’s for talking too much.”

 Bea yanks her hoodie open and sticks her tongue out in a mock expression. “Oh boohoo. Poppy literally says the same thing, I don’t get it. I talk, it’s a problem. I don’t talk, it’s an even BIGGER problem. Damn a girl can’t ever exist in peace.”

 Carter places his bottle flat on the table and studies the blonde’s face. 

 She kept rambling on about her new girlfriend and the gang leader didn’t know it was possible to feel happy yet anxious at the same time. He was aware of when they entered the talking stage, went on their first date, and finally became official, because Bea told him everything. As much as the experience of being in a real relationship was new to her, Bea looked up to him and somehow she knew Carter would give her the best guidance possible. 

 It didn’t stop him from worrying. Like an older brother would. He feared the two would mix, and everyone knows that love and crime will eventually combust. He is no stranger to it.  

 “Bea.”

 “Did you know she stole one of my hoodies and actually won’t give it back?? What am I supposed to do, just take it? No she’d murder me.”

 “Jackson.”

 Her voice slowly dies down after sensing the seriousness in his tone. She takes a sip of her beer to ease the silence that sat in the air, and Carter responds shortly after.

 “You know I trust you with my life right? You’re very important to me, kid.” 

 “I know.”

 Guilt was a feeling he chose to lock away in an unbreakable box and bury six feet deep. There couldn’t be guilt in a lifestyle like this. But Bea was his only exception. And she was slowly bringing that box back up to the surface. 

 “I need you to promise me that you won’t let these two worlds collide.”

 “Carter….”

 “One of you will get hurt. And I won’t forgive myself if it’s you.”

 He leaves Bea at the table, the remnants of his comment still replaying in her head. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Poppy on her lockscreen. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘 

 The blonde smiles unconsciously and opens the message to respond.

 I’m missing you like crazy. I have a special surprise for you.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- You know I highly dislike surprises, just tell me. 

 And ruin the surprise? You must be crazier than I thought. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Jackson.

 Patience babe…tomorrow it is. 

 Bea clicks her phone shut and slips it back into her pocket before downing the rest of the beer. 

***

“You know your hand on my ass only makes them stare even more Jackson?”

 Bea bites her lips and gropes the blonde’s plump backside shamelessly while slowly whispering into her ear.

 “That’s the point, princess.”

 Poppy shivers almost instantly at the boldness. “Is this the surprise you were talking about?” Bea doesn’t answer, instead trailing her hand up Poppy’s skirt. This was definitely not the time and place for such behavior but she was clearly still learning everything about her girlfriend. 

 And it definitely felt good to call her that.

 “Since when did you get so brazen? You know you’re exactly the type of person my daddy told me to stay away from.”

 Bea laughs at that statement and wraps her arm around the blonde’s waist, “yeah? And why’s that?”

 “Well I can’t ask him now, he might rough you up and that’s my job.” 

 Poppy could feel the stares of everyone burning into them, but she could only focus on the blonde cuddled up against her. The shorter girl wouldn’t call herself an attention whore, but she sure loved the PDA that Bea projected without a care. It felt nice to be genuinely admired in public rather than putting on a mask everyday. 

 But it’s safe to say that Poppy preferred all the handsy stuff to happen in private. 

 “Do you want to grab dinner with me tonight Pops?”

 “Am I picking the place?”

 “…Yes.”

 “Then yes.”

 Bea rolls her eyes at the blonde’s downright shady self but smiles nevertheless. 

 “Now don’t cancel on me out of the blue. I will not be thrilled about it.”

 “Shouldn’t I be telling you this? Your dad always has something going on in his business that somehow has to involve you too.”

 Poppy sighs and glances over at Bea, “well you know I’ll have to take over eventually. Especially since I’m legally allowed to handle deals now.”

 “I hate that word. Legal. Ugh.” 

 The shorter girl scoffs and plants her hands on her hips, “yeah I bet you do.”

***

Bea dragged open her closet in search of clothes for dinner tonight but the dinging noise of a text distracts her. 

 C-Dog🖤- Need you tonight. Something came up, meet us at the garage.

Bea wanted to thank the gods up above that she didn’t promise Poppy that she’d show up for dinner. But that wasn’t going to save her from the fury of the blonde. Good thing it can’t get worse than that, right….?

Only it was. And Poppy will probably beat her up herself, if she wasn’t dead by the next day. 

Bea’s mind and heart races as she digs her brain for a proper excuse to tell her girlfriend, but is very unsuccessful. She’s good at drug dealing though. 

 Going with the good ole truth never really hurt right?

 Baby I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got held up with the gang. I know I’m an asshole, I’ll keep in touch I swear. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- What else could I expect from my gang banger girlfriend 🙄 please stay safe..

 You know I always do.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Do I? We need to talk about this tomorrow.

 Of course Pops.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Call me every chance you get or I swear I’ll track you and trust me you do not want me to do that.

 Yeah she definitely doesn’t. Especially since Carter sounded frantic over the phone. The last thing Bea needed was a paranoid girlfriend, so she played it cool like always. 

 Just simple stuff baby girl, talk soon.

 ***

“…What do you mean it’s gone?! So where is it? Do you know what this means Carter??”

 The gang leader sighs frustratingly, rubbing his eyes in efforts to gain some stability. “The product was here, and now it is not. Which can only mean it was stolen. And when I find out which son of a bitch did it, they’re dead.”

 “In the meantime, we are dead”, Bea emphasizes wildly. “This is the Red Raven gang we’re talking about. If they get any inclination that we lost their drugs, they’ll kill and replace us. No mercy. None.”

The blonde paces back and forth trying not to think about buying a plane ticket to Timbuktu. 

Carter approaches Bea and plants his hands on her shoulder, “breathe Jackson. You are my partner. The leader of this gang. So get it out of your system and start being rational.”

 The blonde lets her shoulders sag as she inhales and exhales in place for a while. The minute she’s grounded she catches Carter’s gaze and her eyes light up. “List. I need a list of whoever went in the room with all of the product. We need to narrow it down.”

***

“Jackson you’re a fucking genius.”

 “It’s called having common sense but I’ll take the praise. It’s the only one I’m getting from you anyways.”

 Carter resisted the urge to pick a fight with the younger girl, because finding stolen drugs and not getting killed seemed like a much better idea. 

 Bea figured out that Henry, one of the newly recruited members of SS was a thief, or maybe just a crackhead. Same thing. He was the last to be in that room so all eyes were on him, and guns.

 “Heyyy buddy. Henry right?”

 The shorter man trembled at the sight of a gun lodged right into his mouth. “Mmmm!”

 “Oh I’m sorry, did you want to say something? Here let me just”, Bea clicks the gun which only causes the thief to panic even more. It was almost pitiful. 

 “Alright lay off the poor sucker.” 

 Bea pulls the gun out of his mouth and sits down on a stool in front of Henry with a grin. “So…where is the stash darling?” 

 He points almost immediately to a built in storage locker with a shaky finger. 

 “Ohhh well that was so easy Henry! Glad you could comply. You should tell your friends to be more like you. But…between me and you, they might already be dead”, Bea whispers that last part slowly, smirking when Henry’s lip quivers violently. 

 “Please just do it already! Why are you guys waiting?”

 Bea raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced over at Carter who scanned the man’s face intensely. “I guess he wants to die? Talk about kinks I mean come on”

 “No.”

 Carter reaches his arm out towards Bea but never takes his eyes off Henry. The blonde watches in confusion until she realizes the thief is looking behind her, and so is Carter.

 “It’s a setup Bea, duck!”

 She dived for the ground quicker than lightning as a bullet flies through the air, leaving a trail of dust behind. Carter ducks for cover as well and starts firing rounds towards the men who snuck up on them. He managed to hit three of them but one grabs Bea by the leg and drags her against the rough concrete. 

 “Son of a- get your dirty hands off of my Dr. Martens. My girlfriend bought me these!”

 A swift kick to the face shut the blonde up real quick but she manages to recoil and send the man sprawling backwards into a row of barrels. 

 Carter guns him down and Bea finds her footing, pistol in hand and a thirst for revenge. But they never stopped coming. 

 Her and Carter were left battered and bruised, but alive. Their product was gone again though. But atleast they were alive. Carter told her that it was a theft mission primarily and neither of them were meant to die. But it only made Bea wonder who those people were.

 And why were they kept alive?

***

“Beatriz Naomi Jackson what the actual fuck?!”

 “Oh not the middle name…”

 Bea tries to avoid Poppy’s killer gaze as she surveys the damage that had been done to her girlfriend’s torso, legs, and face. 

 The strawberry blonde could barely mutter a word. Her mouth opened and closed in brief shock before collapsing next to the injured girl. 

 Bea could see the tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, which contrasted her porcelain skin. “Poppy…are you crying? I..please don’t..”

 “What do you expect me to do Bea? It kills me to see you hurt like this. Who did it? Tell me!” The blonde chokes on her own words as her hands hovers cautiously over Bea’s wounds, afraid to make her feel pain.

 “No I can’t tell you. I mean…I didn’t expect this to happen. It was a setup and we were outnumbered-“

 “We need to get you to a hospital Bea oh my god.”

 The blonde knew that she couldn’t go there. Not with the cops on the scene of the shootout, and actively looking for the people involved. Aka her and Carter. He told her to lay low and heal up, but she didn’t expect Poppy to be sitting on her bed waiting for her when she got home. The initial look on her face made Bea regret ever choosing this life. 

 She regrets it ever since being with Poppy. But it’s like a drug, once you start it’s hard to stop. 

 “I’ll call my father, he has the best doctors available and we’re gonna get your the right treatment and-“ 

 Poppy immediately cuts off, her eyebrows scrunching up until she realizes something. “Wait…what do you mean you were outnumbered Bea?” 

 Bea swallows heavily, praying that this conversation couldn’t escalate further, but that isn’t the case. 

 “Bea, answer me”

 “It..it was just me and Carter. We didn’t think there would be an ambush. We had just gone there to get goods we lost.”

 “And where is Carter? Does he know you’re like this right now? Did he leave you, I swear to god Bea if he left you…” Poppy’s voice cracks as her whole body shivers in violent waves. 

 Bea pulls her girlfriend in for a hug even though it causes every inch of her body to sting harshly. It was the comfort that she needed though. Watching Poppy breakdown over the sight of her was too much, and she began to contemplate everything. 

 “Pops listen to me, I cannot go to the hospital right now. There are cops looking for us.” The strawberry blonde stares at her until she understands the velocity of Bea’s words. 

 “Fine. But there will be a doctor that will come to treat you at my house. And you’re coming, I don’t want to hear it.” 

 Bea knew not to protest that. It was quite obvious this whole incident has left both parties distraught and she didn’t want to try and tell Poppy how to feel. 

 “Just tell me something. Are you in immediate danger? Is someone trying to harm you right now.”

 The blonde chose her words carefully. Because even after coming home beaten to a pulp, she still couldn’t tell the love of her life the full truth. 

 “No Poppy, they just wanted the drugs. They got what they wanted. I’m not in danger.”

 For now.

 “I will be okay.”

 I hope.

 “Don’t lie to me Jackson. I can’t do this if you lie. You promised me you wouldn’t get to the point where you’d have to choose between me and the gang.”

 “I know Poppy…I-“

 “You promised.”

 “And I’m going to keep that promise-“

 “Yeah the hell you are. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t ever come home like this again. You’re going to get yourself killed before we even start our life together. Our future.”

 Bea sucks in a breath which punctures her chest. She couldn’t tell if the injuries or Poppy’s words had caused that terrible ache. “Our…Wait I..”

 “I love you Jackson. I…don’t care if you think it’s too early to say that. I don’t care if I sound too cheesy for a mean girl. I love kissing you and feeling the laughter run through your body when we hug. I love being the reason you smile. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back. I just..I needed you to know-“

 “I love you too. Probably maybe from the moment I met you.”

 Poppy’s eyes seemed to glisten once again and this time there was no sadness etched into the shape. She smiled a pure smile and wrapped her arms around Bea in a tight hug. 

 She captures her lips in a searing kiss that leads to a trail of kisses down the strawberry blonde’s neck, dip of her collarbone, and chest. Bea kisses her until her chest gives out from exhaustion and pain.

 “Then you have to promise that this won’t happen again.” 

 “I promise.”

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

NOTES: They’re gonna be fineeeee, right guys??? Graduation next chapter woooo.

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme  @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog

[kikis-writing-world]

Whiskey Straight - The Dance (5)

Jack Daniels x F!Reader

You’re back home, safe in the arms of your husband, but you know it isn’t over. When the mysterious men call and give you your mission - hopefully the last you will ever have to perform - it’s not exactly within your comfort zone. You have to push through, get it done, and then life can go back to normal... right?

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Sexual content (stripping, dancing,) dubious consent of unwanted advances and kissing, light violence. It’s a pretty tame one compared to last time. If I missed anything, let me know. It’s been a while.

A/N: I am so, so sorry for how long this took, but I’m pretty happy with how it came out. Next chapter will be Jack’s POV, so I’m sure that will answer questions you’ve been having (and any that this chapter leaves you with lol.) And I hope to have it up in about 1-1.5 weeks. Definitely don’t want to make you guys wait as long this time. Enjoy!!

Series Masterlist  -  Prologue  -  One  -   Two  -  Three  -  Four  -  Five  -  Six  -   Seven

You woke the next morning sore, stiff and - most importantly - snuggled tightly into Jack. Your face was tucked into the hollow of his shoulder, your arm draped across his chest. His arms were wrapped tightly around you in return. Birds were chirping and you could hear a lawnmower running in the distance. You opened your swollen eyes, the bright sun diffused by the curtains but still lighting the room.

“There she is.” Jack’s smooth, quiet voice startled you. You hadn’t realized he was already awake. You lifted your head to look at him, seeing him smiling lazily down at you. His hand caressed your back, trailing up and down the line of your spine as the other gripped your hip.

“Time’s’it?” You mumbled, starting to turn to look at the clock but Jack’s arms closed around you, stopping you from leaving him.

He kissed your lips, gently and chastely. “I called in for both of us.” He explained, loosening his hold as he felt you relax.

“Why’d you do that?” You questioned, confused. Jack never took a day off work without weeks of notice and planning for his absence.

Jack chuckled. “Well, first you didn’t wake up with the alarm. Then you didn’t wake up when I called your name or shook ya. I figured after yesterday you needed some sleep.”

Your stomach dropped out at the reminder of yesterday. Being knocked out. The hood over your head. The interrogation in that big, empty room.

You shuddered, pressing your face back into Jack’s shoulder as you nodded. Jack rubbed your back soothingly as he hummed a quiet “thought so.”

You nodded, trying to keep yourself from crying at the mess you’d found yourself in. You desperately wanted to tell Jack what you’d done, beg his forgiveness and ask for his help, but you knew you couldn’t. All of the threats weighed heavy on your mind, keeping your lips sealed.

“You ready to talk about what’s got ya so shook up?” Jack asked gently, his large hand never stopping it’s slow, steady circuit up and down your back.

You kept your face pressed into Jack, keeping him from seeing your reaction as you tried to think up an excuse.

“I blew a tire on the way home from work.” You settled on, staying hidden as you spoke. “Bad part of town. Took the tow a while to show up.”

“Why didn’t you get a hold of me? I would have come to get you?”

“Too shook up, I guess? Wasn’t thinking straight.” You sighed. “Stayed with the car, kept the doors locked.”

You felt Jack nod his understanding. “Well, next time call me, okay?”

“I will.” You promised.

It was a quiet day. Jack had suggested the two of you stay in lounge clothes and snuggle up on the couch to watch movies together. Even as the sun started to dip lower in the sky, he suggested take-out for dinner. It reminded you of the early days of dating him, having movie nights in on days you didn’t feel like going out together. The slow, lazy day calmed your nerves, even if you couldn’t fully push the day before out of your mind.

You were clearing your plates and putting away the leftovers from dinner when the phone rang. It was the first time it had rung all day, which was strange especially considering Jack took the day off work. The fact that no one had called him to check in on something or ask a question was rare. While you didn’t know for sure it was for you, your stomach dropped.

“I’ve got it!” You yelled, stopping Jack in his tracks. He stood next to the table, watching as you frantically dried your hands on your pants as you ran into the other room to answer the phone.

“Hello?” You answered, anxious but trying to keep your voice even.

“Bourbon.” The voice was deep and robotic, the same type of voice that had badgered you with questions the night before.

“Y-yes.” You acknowledged, taking a few steps farther away from the kitchen where Jack waited.

“Listen carefully, these instructions will not be repeated.” The voice started, and you nodded, gripping the phone so tightly you could hear the plastic groan. “In exactly one and a half hours, at 9:00, you will go downtown to The Marriot Marquis. The front desk will have an envelope waiting for Bourbon. It will have further instructions. Understand?”

You bit your lip, rubbing your forehead with your hand. You just wanted this to be over with. Hopefully this one last thing would be it, then you could go back to your life. You never would have guessed months ago you’d be yearning for the old monotony. 

“Yes.” You confirmined.

“One more thing: Dress sexy.”

You nearly choked on air as your breath hitched in your throat. “What?” You barely resisted the urge to shout. You heard a click on the other end of the line, but you asked again “What do you mean?”

It took a moment for the tone to indicate there was no one on the other line anymore. You cursed under your breath as you hung up the phone.

“Who was it?” Jack asked.

“W-work.” You told him, cursing the stutter in your voice. “They need me to run in for an hour or two.”

“Really?” Jack frowned at you as you came back to the dining room. “It couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“No.” You shook your head, avoiding making eye contact with him. “Sandy made a mistake on something and I owe her. Many hands make light work.” You lied.

“Alright.” Jack sighed. “Let me finish up the dishes then. Least I can do.”

“Leave them ‘til tomorrow. It’s fine.” You waved off his offer.

“If you say so.” He grinned, giving in easily. You knew how much Jack hated the dishes. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he passed you, making his way into the den and flicking on the TV. You heard him switch over to a football game and knew he’d be occupied while you got ready.

You opened your closet, pushing all your everyday clothes aside to look for something “sexy.” You couldn’t remember the last time you were trying to dress sexy. You used to pay attention to  fashion, treating yourself now and then to something new. It made you feel good, and it certainly reaped it’s benefits from Jack as well, but it had been a long time. Now when you bought clothes it was usually for work, to replace a blouse that had worn out. You had a few dresses in the back of your closet that you hadn’t worn in… you couldn’t even remember how long. That’s when you spotted the black, lightly shimmering fabric towards the back.

You pulled the garment out, staring at it. It had been one of your go-to “little black dresses” when you had been younger and still in need of such things. It seemed to be the only one that had survived the various clothing purges over the years. The neckline was a low V - not scandalously low, but certainly lower than your usual clothes. The sleeves went about halfway down your biceps, ending in a soft ruffled fabric that you knew wasn’t really in style anymore but not quite garish. The dress hit your knees, showing off a modest amount of leg. It wasn’t perfect, but short of going shopping for something completely new, it seemed like your best option. You hoped it still fit, grabbing one of your large purses and shoving the dress inside along with a pair of black heels. You grabbed a small make-up bag, throwing in the necessities - eyeliner, maskara, lipstick - and tossed that in the bag too.

You got dressed, picking underwear that would work with the dress, a simple black set that wouldn’t show underneath the dress. The panties were a thong that you couldn’t remember wearing in a while, but knew it would avoid any lines in your silhouette. It also would hopefully help you get into the mentality of being sexy, even if the dress wasn’t the hottest new style. You otherwise dressed as you normally would for work. 

You kissed Jack goodbye on your way through, although with his eyes on the game he barely even noticed. You made it out of the house and into the car with no fuss, now you just had to drive to somewhere you’d be able to change and get downtown in time. You still had an hour, so as long as you stopped along the way and traffic wasn’t bad - it should be fairly calm at this time of night - you’d be able to make it.

Your heels clicked against the floor of the hotel lobby as you approached the desk. You glanced around between the other people coming and going, wondering if any of them were involved with the mission you were on tonight. No one gave you a second glance, too invested in their own lives, their own business. You looked the part of belonging in the upscale hotel, having changed from the casual workwear into the dress in a fast food bathroom and doing your make-up in the car. With an hour and a half notice, not only was it the best it was going to get, but it was pretty damn acceptable if you said so yourself.

“Welcome to The Marriot Marquis,” the girl behind the desk greeted pleasantly. It didn’t do much to calm your nerves, not knowing what the next step would be. “How can I help you tonight?”

“I’m picking up an envelope. For Bourbon.” You barely kept your voice even, but you managed.

“One second, let me check.” She opened a drawer in the desk and flipped through for a moment before lifting a small manilla envelope with a sound of triumph. “Here you are, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” You took the envelope, forcing a polite smile at the girl before taking your leave.

You looked around the lobby for somewhere inconspicuous to open the envelope. There seemed to be people in all of the areas, but the decorative pillars along the wall of the lobby would provide some privacy. Glancing around cautiously, you opened the envelope.

You leafed through the items: a piece of paper with a handwritten telephone number and instructions, a plastic baggy with some kind of tiny computer chip inside of it, and a little envelope from the hotel with a room key and a room number written on it.

The instructions told you to wait until the concierge took his break at 9:05 and use his phone to call the number for further instruction. You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing it was 9:03 - you’d thankfully gotten to the hotel on time, otherwise you might have missed his break.

You stayed by the pillar, trying to keep your breathing even as you waited for the man to leave his desk. The waiting was almost worse than the drive over. You tried not to let your mind race too much about the next steps, but it was practically impossible not to.

Thankfully you saw the concierge stand and leave his desk after only about a minute. A glance at the clock told you that he was leaving his station a little early. You waited a moment to make sure he wasn’t coming back before approaching the desk as casually as you could manage. The phone was sitting within reach, making it easy to call the number.

The line was answered, but no one spoke. The end of the ringing and the click of the connection was the only sign that it had been answered.

“This is Bourbon.” You whispered, holding your hand over the mouthpiece of the phone to avoid any eavesdropping.

“Listen closely.” The usual voice warned before continuing on. “The man inside the room is a suspected arms dealer. You will go inside the room and place the bug near the telephone.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you listened. The little computer chip must be the bug. You were about to ask how you’d manage to do that without getting caught, but he continued.

“You will be posing as a prostitute named Michelle. Tell him that his usual girl, Carla, is sick. If he likes you, he will tell you what to do.”

“Hold on, I can’t…” You interrupted. “I don’t have to… I can’t sleep with him. Do I have-”

“No.” You breathed a huge sigh of relief, but it was short lived. “He likes to watch. If you do not put the bug by the phone, your mission is incomplete and the deal is off.”

Before you could ask anymore questions, the line went dead.

Your hand shook as you hung up the phone, taking steadying breaths as you thought over the instructions you’d just been given.

He likes to watch.

What were you going to have to do, that he’d watch? It was one thing to have to sleep with him, but to perform for him was…

You felt like you were going to be sick, and luckily there was a sign pointing towards the washrooms in the lobby. You made your way towards them, as quickly as you could in the shoes you’d picked for the evening.

You closed yourself in a stall, leaning against the door. The bathroom was empty aside from you, and you could hear your gasping breaths echoing off the tiled walls as you tried to calm yourself.

You repeated the instructions in your head over and over. Place the bug by the phone. Prostitute named Michelle. Carla is sick. You soon found yourself outside of the stall, pacing in front of the sinks, running it all through your head. You wondered how long you’d been in there, but knew you had to stop stalling eventually. This man was expecting Carla… “Michelle” was probably already late.

You caught sight of yourself in the long mirror sitting on the wall. You stared at yourself hard. You didn’t look like a prostitute. At least, not what you assumed a prostitute would look like. You’d seen them on TV, never in real life- to your knowledge, anyway.

The ruffles along the sleeves of your dress had to go. You pulled at them experimentally, hearing a few stitches pop as you did. You took a deep breath and braced yourself as you pulled as hard as you can, the ruffled fabric ripping away from the body of the dress along with part of the sleeve. You tore the rest of the sleeve off and quickly repeated the action on the other arm. It was a good start.

The dress was too long, that was for damn sure. You gripped the skirt of the dress on either side of the hem running up your leg, pulling hard. It held together a bit stronger than the sleeves, but it still split as you tugged at it. You pulled it once more, trying to grow the slit you’d just created. You squeaked as it went further up your thigh than you meant it to, but you supposed it worked for the role you were playing. It wasn’t indecent enough that you would feel completely exposed as you walked through the halls to the room.

You adjusted your breasts, pulling them as high as they would sit inside your bra. Luckily the neckline of the dress was already low - you remembered the day you’d bought it, reasoning with yourself that the plunging neckline was socially acceptable on account of the rest of the dress being fairly modest.

You dug your lipstick out of your purse, applying it more heavily. The red made your lips pop much more than your usual style. Your eyes were already lined with the black eyeliner you had applied and you used some tissue to smudge the line out, making it seem smokier.

Finally, you took some water in your hands and used it to restyle your hair, pushing it back, away from your face and slicking it just slightly. You took a step back to look yourself over.

You looked nothing like the woman who had walked into the hotel, although that was probably a good thing. You looked cheap, especially with the slightly ragged alterations you’d made, which was also a good thing. You struck a pose, biting your bottom lip as you tried to make a sexy face. Honestly, it looked better than you expected, and it gave you a tiny boost of confidence.

You thanked whatever power was listening that you’d worn heels and decent underwear - although the thought made your stomach turn once more, wondering just how much more clothing you’d be shedding tonight. You didn’t think you could handle being naked in front of a man who wasn’t Jack. You prayed to that same power that it wouldn’t come to that.

Shaking the thought from your head, you took the bug from the plastic bag and snuck it into your bra, making sure it was safe and secure in place. With your hands at your chest, you saw your wedding ring glint in the light. You took a moment to stare at it, realizing the weight of what you were doing as you moved to slide it off your finger. It didn’t come off easily, having been on your finger for years without coming off. You had to wiggle it a little, but it came off into your hand. You slipped it onto your right hand, turning the diamond inside your palm. Now, it just looked like a plain band. It would do. With one last deep breath, you picked up your purse and left the bathroom.

It was easy to find the room, following the numbers until they led you to a set of double doors at the end of a hallway. It had to be a suite. You used the key to unlock the door and pushed it open.

It was dim inside the room, barely any light coming in through the windows on account of the rain outside and the only interior light coming from the fireplace. You could see the seating area, but there didn’t seem to be anyone there. You walked inside, taking cautious steps as you looked for the man you would be… well, looking for the man.

There was a large, open archway into another darkened room. You could make out the posts of a huge four-post bed, a few candles sitting on a ledge beside it, as well as the outline of a loveseat on the wall nearest to you. The table in front of it held an ice bucket with a bottle inside, a single glass next to it.

“Hello?” You called. You worried you had taken too long in the bathroom, and that the man had left.

“Hello.” A voice came out of nowhere, making you jump. You turned in the direction you’d heard it from and saw the silhouette of the man sitting near the far window. The candlelight didn’t make it far enough to light him, making it impossible to identify any of his features in the dark.

You composed yourself as you realized he was watching you. You tried to portray confidence as you set your purse down on the loveseat.

“Help yourself to some Champagne.” He instructed, his accent thick. It sounded European, but he hadn’t spoken enough for you to pinpoint where he could be from.

You kept your eyes on him as much as you could as you poured yourself some of the champagne. You could hardly stop yourself from drinking back the whole glass, needing some liquid courage to keep you going. It was already gone when you realized that it might not have been the smartest thing to do. You had no idea who this man was and he could have slipped anything into the bottle. You had drank too fast to even notice if it tasted strange.

You set the glass back on the table, walking further into the room. You stopped beside the bed, hoping your stance portrayed confidence and sexiness as you relayed what you’d practiced over and over in your head.

“My name is Michelle. Carla is sick, but she thought you would like me.” You were proud of how even it came out. The rehearsing had worked.

He was silent for a moment, and you could feel his eyes boring into you even if you couldn’t see his face.

“Let me do the talking.” He ordered, voice smooth. You bit your lip, hoping you hadn’t messed this up already. “Start by unzipping your dress.”

Your mouth went dry as you closed your eyes, wishing you weren’t too scared to have more champagne. You reached behind you, fumbling a little for the tiny zipper hidden in the fabric.

“No.” He stopped you, your eyes popping open. “Turn around. Do it doucement. Slowly.”

You turned around, glad that you wouldn’t have to keep your face straight as you pulled the zipper down your back.

“Good,” he praised as you moved. Goosebumps popped up on your flesh as you exposed more and more of your back to his gaze and the cool air of the room. The zipper was almost all the way down when he told you to slip it off.

You dragged it down your arms, turning to face him once more as it bunched around your chest. You pinned him with a stare that you hoped was more sexy than it was frightened as you let the fabric gather around your waist. You hooked your thumbs into the dress, pushing it slowly over the swell of your hips before it fell to the ground. The goosebumps were all over your body now and you fought not to visibly shiver. He praised you once more as you stepped out of the fabric bunched around your feet.

You clasped your hands in front of you as you waited for his next instructions, hands wringing together.

“Now slide off your nylons.” He told you.

You frowned, looking down at yourself. “I-I’m not wearing any.” You explained.

The man faltered in his seat, his shadow moving. It took him a second to speak again. “Now dance for me.”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, looking up at the ceiling as you began moving your arms and shoulders, snapping along to an imaginary beat 

“No, no, no.” He stopped you quickly. “Dance sexy. Imagine your hands are the hands of your lover, let them touch you the way your lover would.” His accent, which you now suspected to be French, grew stronger as he instructed you. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark enough now that you could see his legs crossed and the way his chin sat on his hand, but still no defining features.

You nodded, closing your eyes as you started to move your hips. It was stiff at first, but as you rested your hands on your hips, you rolled them more fluently. You imagined your hands were Jack’s, sliding them up your waist as you rolled your body. You grazed over the swell of your chest teasingly, moving further up to rest on either side of your neck. As long as you kept your eyes closed, you could think of Jack. Think of the night before when he had made love to you.

You stepped outwards, widening your stance as you began to get into it, bending your knees as you swayed to an imaginary beat in your head. You placed Jack in the chair the man was in, trying to think back to the start of your marriage - the excitement, the want to please each other, the openness to trying new things. You imagined the look on his face as you mentally danced for him.

You ran your hands through your hair, rolling your neck before running your hands back down your body again. You teased the waistband of your panties, imagining the way Jack would have licked his lips at the prospect of you taking them off so soon, but you continued down your legs. You groped your inner things, squeezing the soft warm flesh.

As you rolled your hips, you turned your body so your back was to the man once more. Your hands trailed up over your hips, bracketing your ass as you swayed it back and forth in what you hoped was a tantalizing manner. You moved your hands lower down your legs, bending at the waist and truly putting your ass on display for the man. You felt the chip shift inside your bra, making you snap back upwards to stop it from falling out.

You looked over your shoulder at the man, seeing he was leaning forward slightly. It was working. Feeling emboldened by his interest, you took the post of the bed in your hand. You gripped it, rolling your hips forward as you leaned backwards, arching your back. You lowered yourself back to the ground, bending your knees as you climbed down the frame with both hands.

Once you were nearly on the ground, you bounced up and down slowly as if you were riding Jack. You let go of the post to cup your breasts, subtly checking that the bug was still securely in place. You could feel the tiny chip against your skin. It was a tiny relief.

Turning your attention back to the man, you dropped all the way to your knees, turning and crawling a few feet towards him. You didn’t dare get too close, but you hoped he was enjoying the show, the view of your cleavage.

You bit your lip as you sat back on your haunches once more. Starting at your neck, you slid your hands slowly down your body once more, highlighting all your curves. You closed your eyes, trying once more to imagine your husband in front of you.

You sat back before rolling over, landing a little clumsily on your knees again but facing away from the man. You crawled back towards the bed, making sure to sway your hips. You heard something clatter behind you, but when you stopped to look at the man nothing had changed except his posture. He was leaning in even further, seemingly enthralled in your performance.

You used the frame to pull yourself up to standing once more as you kept gyrating.

With your back to him, you used the post of the bed once more, almost imagining it to be a stripper pole. With one hand on it, you bucked forward and back. You ran your hands in your hair and looked over your shoulder at him.

“Now lie on the bed and close your eyes.”

The request had you stopping dead in your tracks, leaning up against the post. You took a shaky breath, remembering where you were and why you were here. You were here with a mystery man, a potential arms dealer, not your husband.

You sat on the far edge of the bed from him, back to the man as you tried to collect yourself. Your legs felt like jelly, and it wasn’t from the dancing.

“I… I thought you liked to watch.” You stuttered, staring at the phone on the nightstand. You briefly wondered if you could drop the bug next to it and bolt without him realizing what you’d done.

“Now lie on the bed and close your eyes.” He repeated.

You barely bit back a whimper, your eyes closing tightly. You took a deep breath before doing as instructed, scooting to the middle of the bed and closing your eyes as you laid down. The hotel bedding was scratchy against your skin, the sensation amplified with your sight gone. You listened hard for any noise, any clue as to what the man was doing next as you trembled.

You heard him moving, his clothes brushing against the chair as he stood. You tried to calm your breathing, trying to pinpoint his movements around the room. You heard him get closer to you, approaching the bed. He didn’t get on the bed on the side nearest him, instead you heard his footsteps, softened by the plush carpet of the room, round the opposite side of the bed. Your fingers twitched nervously as the bed dipped to your left.

He was silent, not speaking the whole time he moved. Your breath was coming in shallow pants, your nerves absolutely shot as you worried what he would do next. You were so incredibly vulnerable, laying on the bed in nothing but your underwear and heels.

You flinched as something brushed against your forehead. Soft, it trailed down the bridge of your nose. Despite your eyes being closed, you couldn’t stop the want to blink at the sensation. Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as you forced your eyelids to stay closed.

The item trailed farther down your face, over your cupid’s bow and your lips. Breathing in, you could smell something floral, which helped you place the feel of the item. It was a flower of some kind trailing over your skin.

It lifted from your chin before reappearing on your cheek, smoothing over the globe and down your jaw and neck. Your lips parted as you sucked in a deep breath, both from the lack of deep breathing you’d been doing and from the sensation of the delicate petals hitting the sensitive pulse point under your jaw.

The petals’ touch grew feather light as he trailed the flower down over your breast, dragging it down the valley of your cleavage. It disappeared from your skin before it reached your stomach, which was already tense in anticipation of the tickle of the silky petals.

With the light brush of the flower gone, your nerves jumped once more. The flower on your skin had at least been context as to where the man was and what he was doing. You waited for his next move, worrying what he would do to you. You felt the bed shifting beside you as he leaned closer, causing you to hold your breath. You felt his breath flutter across your face a second before his lips pressed to yours. You barely held back your squeak of surprise, freezing as he kissed you. His moustache tickled your nose as his lips, softer than you had imagined, caressed your own, unmoving lips.

You unfroze after a moment, opening your eyes and looking back and forth for something, anything that would help you escape this situation before it escalated any further. The only thing you could see past the shadow of the man’s face was the bedside table next to you, the phone and a lamp sitting on it. The lamp looked heavier, but it was farther. You’d have to reach and see which you could actually get to.

You started moving your lips against his, bringing one hand up to his shoulder as you tried to distract him by participating in the kiss as you reached over with your other hand. You moved slowly, not wanting to alert him of your ulterior motives. You wanted to move faster, wanted to get this man’s lips off of yours. You were thankful he seemed happy taking his time kissing you, his hands and lips not wandering, not trying to explore your body any further.

You felt your fingertips touch the plastic of the phone, your arm almost fully extended. There was no way you’d reach the lamp without moving anymore than you already had. You closed your eyes tightly as you tightened your grip on the phone, preparing to attack. You would have taken a deep breath had you had the space, but you weren’t that lucky. Instead, you counted to three in your head.

One. Two. Three.

Your eyes shot open as you pushed the man back by his shoulder, swinging the phone towards him and hitting him in the face. He leaned over, clutching at his face with a loud groan. You didn’t hesitate, sitting up and hitting him over the back of the head once more.

He fell off the bed and you sprung up. As soon as your feet were under you, you delivered a swift kick to his ribs, an easy target as he was on his hands and knees.

“Bastard!” You screeched at him. He groaned again, cursing as he gripping his ribs.

You didn’t wait to see how incapacitated he was, rushing to where your dress sat on the floor. You picked it up, siling it back on as quickly as you could. You held it up, not bothering to fuss with the zipper as you ran towards your purse.

You started to run towards the door when you remembered why you were even here. You cursed under your breath, digging the chip out of your bra. You had to do this, it was the only way to be done with all this bullshit.

You ran back into the bedroom, avoiding the man as he crawled on the floor in pain. You gave him a wide berth as you passed, sticking the bug behind the lamp. Without even sparing the man another glance, you ran past him once more.

“Shit, darlin’. Wait!” The man drawled, having caught his breath. “Who taugh’ya to kick like that?”

The voice made you freeze, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste to stop running. The voice was nothing like the smooth European voice that had been directing you minutes ago. You knew that Southern drawl.

You turned, staring down at the man as he leaned back on his haunches, the candles catching his side and finally showing you his face.

“Jack?!”

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle @spideysimpossiblegirl @thottiewinemom @phoenixhalliwell @sheerfreesia007 @and-claudia @weirdowithnobeardo @massivecolorspygiant @mrstaekim @chibi-liz05 @adrieunor @ilikechocolatemilkh @thirstworldproblemss @dynishot @diamond-doritos @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @eli-the-thinker @justanotherblonde23 @bbuckysbeardd @scribbledghost

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[charlotteswriting]

Anon said: “Hii! I don’t know if you have a limit of characters but can you do Shuichi, Hajime, Fuyuhiko, Nagito, Kazuichi and Kokichi confessing? If you can’t do to all of them is totally ok! :)”

Hi, anon! I made Headcanons of Hajime and Shuichi already :’) But I can do it one more time for you!!!<3

Shuichi Saihara

He’s soooo shy

He feels himself comfortable around you but also uncomfortable because you’re so attractive wtf

Also he loves your personality 11037% because you’re such an angel and never judge him

Him opening up is kind of hard, he’d get help 100%

Kaito, the best bro, helping him

Not totally making a script

Kaito and Shuichi prepare the environment. The atmosphere is just like how he wanted it to be!!

The only problem,, he’s being hesitant now

Seriously, Shuichi, NOW? Out of ALL THE TIMES?

“Come on! I already sent them the letter. No running away now!” Kaito yells

HE DID WHAT? Shuichi didn’t know about this

Okay, he’s right. He CAN’T leave now for the god’s sake

And you arrive

And you see Shuichi

You’re immediately like, “Shuichi? Was it you? This isn’t your handwriting-”

“Y/n,, I need... To tell you something.”

HE WANTS TO CRY SO BAD. WHY IS HE GETTING WEIRD STARES FROM YOU?!

“What is it?” You ask patiently- you can tell what is it by the environment tho-

“Well, I, um, the truth is...” He finally looks up, being hesitant, eyes not meeting you for few second, “I’ve been taking a liking with you for a while now, and...”

Kaito is like: Bro, stop being so lame

JUST WHAT DO YOU EXPECT HIM TO SAY, KAITO???

And before he finishes, you just walk to him and straight up pull him into a hug

HIS HEART-

“Shuichiii... I like you, too,” Is all you say

HE’S NOT CRYING, HE’S NOT CRYING, HE’S NOT CRYING-

He is

Guess who’s official now

Hajime Hinata

He’s been thinking if he should confess his feelings for you for a while now

And he’s been avoiding you for a while because of that,,

You’re worried if you did something wrong

So you decide to call him

He picks it up after 0,000003 seconds

Ha! Can’t resist. He’s been missing hearing your voice

“Hajime?”

“Y/n?”

Long silence.

“Uhmmmm,, are you okay?” You ask weirdly

“Uhhh, sure! I’m okay.”

Another long pause

“Come on, you don’t have to lie, at least not through phone,,” You say, you sound kind of sad to him (yOU OBVIOUSLY ARE WTF HAJIME

“I’m...,” He stutters, feeling his cheeks heaten up

This only happened when he saw you. Hearing your voice also does that to him??

“It’s okay, Hajime. But could you at least tell me the reason you’re avoiding me?” You patiently ask. You don’t want him to hang up without telling you

“I’ve been avoiding?? You??” He says, but you don’t buy it. You just wait for his reply

“...I’m a bad actor, huh...?” He sighs, “Well... Y/n, I’ll be honest with you.”

This is what you wanted to hear from the start.

“I,, you didn’t do anything wrong, you’re only being nice to me! There’s no way I’d avoid you on purpose,, I, I just... Uh, I like you, Y/n,” Words slip out of his mouth, “And I don’t want that to ruin our friendship, so I was trying to keep it to myself... Ever since then.”

He hears some weird noises from your side.

“Uhhh, Y/n? Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m running.”

You. WHAT?

“What?”

“I’m running to your house.” Bold Y/n Bold

“Why would you do that?”

“Because feelings mutual, dummy,” You hang up, only to leave him staring at his phone blankly

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

Omg he’d be the most romantic one!!

He’d put so much thought and emotion into it when preparing around

He’d even try to prepare the food- Peko helping him 100%

He’s just sooo excited

You didn’t expect the Baby Gangsta to suddenly call you to come over

He sends you the adress

You’re suspicious?? You don’t know that place??

Is he going to kill you??

Of course not!! He wouldn’t do anything like that........ To you, at least.

Anyways, after half of an hour, you arrive at the place. It’s a beach

It’s dark, you don’t see a thing-

“Fuyuhiko... Where’re you?” You ask nervously, looking around to see him

You don’t look where you step and and almost fall down

“Gotcha,”

Omg- it’s him

“Y/n, are you okay?”

That’s so cuteeee

You just nod as he takes you to the place

Wow. The boy made a whole romantic dinner scene at the beach. Just for you

You rub your eyes.

IS THIS REAL??

“Hey... Don’t just stare, sit.”

You do as he says and look around you. You’re so surprised

“Don’t tell me you don’t like it,” He says, sounding offended

“Oh, noo, I like it. I like it so much, actually,”

HE’S SO SMUG

“Hehe, knew it.”

“Did you make it all yourself?”

“No... Peko helped me a lot.”

You two don’t talk for a long while... And just then, you both call your names at the same time-

Aww

“Ah, you go first,” You say, because you’re faster than him

“I, okay, well, I guess you kind of expect why I organized this all, right...?” He asks, even he is unsure.

You blink as you feel your cheeks getting hot

“Well, it’s because,, I wanted to surprise you, and make you happy, I think I did a pretty good job, right?” He says jokingly, but you can see how nervous he is with this whole thing “And... This isn’t all. I wanted to... Tell you something. You’re someone... Really important to me, you know? And I keep wanting to spend more time with you,, that sounds so lame, doesn’t it?” He laughs as he looks at your face, “Well, it’s true. I like you, I like you a lot,”

HE’S THE SWEETEST. I-

Before he says more, you give him a kiss

It’s a soft, yet passionate kiss

When you break the kiss, he hides his face, clearly blushing, “Idiot... Don’t do something so sudden.”

Do it again.

Nagito Komaeda

Oh noooo

His inferiority complex: Let’s us introduce ourselves

He wants to, but he CAN’T.

Why would you even want to be something more than friends when he’s just trash???

Why would you even want to be close to him. As a friend or less

You have no reason to be

He can’t catch feelings, he can’t catch feelings

But he can’t help but fall for you, you’re just so nice... That you’re all he wants

He’s so sad he doesn’t have a chance with you

“Nagitooo!” You call for him as you run towards him

He forgets about those thoughts and looks at you as you cross the street to meet him

“Wow, you didn’t need to tire yourself just to meet trash like me, you know, Y/n?”

“If you call yourself that one more time, I’ll start throwing hands,” You say threatening, but in a cute way (In his eyes at least)

“Calm down... I was just joking, hahaha,”

He doesn’t get it

You’re always following him around and stuff... Don’t you ever get bored of him?

He thinks he’s nothing special...

“Y/n, don’t you have anything more important to do?”

“Other than you? Nope!”

NOT TOTALLY BLUSHING. STOP BLUSHING

“I, hahaha, to think that I’m actually important, you sure have a kind soul, Y/n!” He says with a soft smile, “I’m so amazed by your words, you never fail to make me feel actually good about myself. I feel so happy that I could fall for you.”

He speaks like that again,, you never know if he means that or he doesn’t.

Nagito is like being friendly or flirty with you at the same time- You can never read him

Well, his words always make you blush... Since you took a liking of him for couple of months now;;

“Ah, you’re silent. Did my words make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry I won’t do-”

“No, no, it’s fine...” You cut him off.

“Oh, okay then... I guess you don’t really mind stuff like that. Actually... Talking about my feelings makes me feel a lot better, but at the same time I feel like my heart will explode, you know?”

You just stare at him before nodding. “Yeah...”

You know he pretty much confessed his feelings to you just seconds ago-

And is cool with it.

BUT YOU’RE pretty much INTERNAL SCREAMING?

“I,, too, like you,”

“That’s such a nice thing to say,” A soft smile appears on his face again

“I meant in a romantic way, Nagito,”

“Yep, yep!” He says jokingly

You just pout and rise on your foot before planting a kiss on his cheek

He feels himself blush, and tries to force a smile, but can’t.

“Wait... Were you serious?”

“I don’t joke around about stuff like that, Nagito. I don’t lie, either.”

Seems it’s his lucky day today.

Kazuichi Souda

He knows he has the biggest crush on you

Everybody does. Including you

And what’s he gonna do about it??

Gonna tell everyone about how much he loves you, well, except you, of course! ^^

Everybody is so done with him bringing you out out of blue

Kazuichi, just be quiet. <3

Just confess your feelings for them already!! he. CAN’T. He thinks you’d reject him before he confessed </3 That’s so sad actually because Kaz is great

But you know,, he pretty much confesses to you every second he sees you lol

Doesn’t need to say the word “I love you” A simple compliment from him enough to express his love for you

“Y/n, you’re my sunshine, you light up my day,” He says cheesly, you laugh at his statement

Yep, he’s like that everyday

“Y/nnn!”

He is walking up to you. You smile at him before seeing the big grin on his face

“What’s so funny? Are you finally going to confess your undying love to me?” You tease him

“Yes.”

eXCUSE ME??

Kaz, this is too straight forward, this isn’t how it works-

Soo, he asks his friends for help

Gundham gives him the worst idea

But what’s he gonna do? Listen to him

Even Sonia supports Gundham’s idea-

Well, the plan is pretty much locking you two in a classroom so he can take the time he wants before confessing to you

And when he’s done, they’ll let you out

Sounds legit!!!

....Right?

When you notice your not totally stolen bag is missing, you immediately make your way to classroom!

To yOuR lUck, you find it!!

“There you are. I’m so dumb, how did I forget my bag?” You say and grab the bag. When you make your way out of the class, the door won’t budge.

“Eh?!” You panick and try to open it up. Not working, it’s locked up. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” You say before you drop your bag and lean your back on the door and sitting on the ground

“I’m supposed to take a test... Damn...”

“You sound depressed.”

“KAZUICHI?!?!”

He just?? Comes out of the?? Closet in the classroom??? And fuckingmwaves??

“What’re you doing in here?!”

“I’m pretty much in the same situation as you, Y/n!” He says cheerfully. Liar. He almost sounds happy to be stuck with you

“You seem almost happy,” You say calmly

“Well, I am, because I’m stuck with you,”

He doesn’t miss a chance to flirt, does he...

You look down and sigh,, then you blankly look at him, “Kaz,, you didn’t need to lock us in a classroom to spend private time with me. We can always hangout after school, you know?” You say, somehow you understand him

“Yeah... But-” He walks towards you and takes your hands in his, “How am I supposed to confess my love for you, then? You... Never take me serious.”

You blink. Like 3 times.

“Don’t give me weird stares! This is what you always do, you never reject me nor accept my feelings!”

“Kaz, I thought everybody new we are official by now-”

“Wait, what?”

“I mean- You didn’t know? I accepted your feelings,, like a week ago?” You say confused, but he’s even more confused than you.

You sigh. You’re so done with him. “I can’t believe you didn’t even know I’m dating you. Sonia, Gundham, open the door. I’m leaving.”

They do as you say. You step out of the classroom and wave at them, not even looking at Kazuichi who’s yelling behind you

“Y/n!! Love, please wait, we can talk this out, my sunshine!!!”

And they say romance is dead

Kokichi Ouma

Burn his feelings </3

Okay, okay, don’t. He needs love too

Especially if it’s you

He did know he was catching feelings and he let himself do this on purpose

Just teasing you non stop and spending time with you were enough, but the Gremlin wanted more

“Oh my gooood, they’re so perfect, Shuichiiii,”

“...Who?”

“For the last time, of course I’m talking about Y/n!”

He’s been ranting about you like- for hours-

Well, he knew he had to confess his undying love for you very soon

That day, you were really tired and he’s been really pissing you off

So much that Maki nearly killed him. You told her it’s okay but you wished Kokichi to leave soon

But he didn’t, so you left instead <3 You were sleepy

But he started... Following you??

“Y/n, Y/n, I know you know I’m following you!” He happily states. Is he confessing his crimes?!

“Yeah, I’ve... Noticed,” You say and smile

“You’re really silent today, Y/n, is anything wrong?”

“No... But I think you’re really loud today, Kokichi,” You say and look down at him. “Aww, that’s so unlike you! Seriously, is anything wrong?” Even though he’s talking like his normal self, he’s worried

“Well,” You say nervously, “I heard some... Odd things,”

“Odd things? Like what?” He is reaaaally interested in what you say, he brings his face closer to yours. “Uh, it’s nothing to worry about. Good night.” You say and immediately run away

He stands there like 🧍‍♂️

Sigh,,, how does he not know what you heard? Everybody’s talking about how the little bitch likes you

Seriously, you can’t tell if he’s messing with you, or serious “Come on, there’s no way he likes me! He’s just messing around...” You try to convince yourself and finally lie down in the bed, getting ready to sleep, “He doesn’t like me at all...”

You shut your eyes, you really need to get some sleep. But you hear a banging sound. You open your eyes, clearly annoyed by the sound

It’s coming from the window... You pull the curtains and meet him

“KOKICHI?!”

He bangs the window in reply, you open it and he smiles at you “Y/nnn, it took you sooo loooong. It’s cold here.”

“What’re you doing there? It’s the second floor.”

“Oh. I wanted to talk to you.”

“You could use the door!” You say, annoyed and worried at the same time. “But that wouldn’t surprise you! Anyway, let me in?”

You help him to get inside... What’re you even doing at this point

“What a nice night!” Kokichi says and points you fingerguns, “Don’t you think so, Y/n?”

“What’re you doing in my house...”

“You let me in, sleepyhead!”

That’s right. But you’re not asking the right question!! Please kindly tell him to leave your house <3

“Y/n, I’m actually here because you didn’t seem well,” He says, “And I wanted to ask-”

“You could ask me tomorrow,”

“Yeeees, but I want to do it now!” He says, damn, he’s being stubborn, in a situation like this? You know,, he won’t leave unless you tell him “So... You said you heard something ‘odd’, didn’t you? Tell me about it...”

So you tell him all about it. Can’t help but blush at how cheesy your words sound but you’re too sleepy to mind that.

“And that annoyed you?” Kokichi asks, you nod in reply. “Y/n, does the truth hurt you?”

You expected him to say ‘it’s a lie!’ but he didn’t. DID HE REALLY HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU? HIM??

“Are you... Unhappy?” There he was again... Not being like himself. This is what romance does to people? “Not at all...” You say and avoid eye contact, “It’s... Weird? I had the biggest crush on you a while back and now feelings mutual.”

HE’S SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT. Though on the outside, he hides it very well ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

“Oh... Really?” He asks, smug bitch, “That settles it then...”

“Settles... What?” You say, you’re aware of what he meant, and he’s aware of you knew

“You already know,” He says and you stare at him, “It means,, I like you and you love me! Yeah!! Y/n, you love me, right? This makes us a couple!!!”

You just... Stare at him in awe.

You stare too much that he gets nervous. “Uhm,, what’s wrong? Do you... Want to kiss?”

“A kiss would be nice... But I think I need sleep, Kokichi,” You say and rub your eyes.

He’s DISAPPOINTED IN EVERYTHING.

But you actually lean towards his cheek and plant a kiss ✨

HE HAS THE BIGGEST GRIN

You decide to talk about this tomorrow when you’re more energetic and let it slide <3

He puts you to sleep and plants a kiss on your forehead before whispering something totally not dirty in your ear and leaves - this time, he uses the door.

Omg that took me forever to finish. (Sorry if it’s too long--) I love how this turned out something between fluff and crack. (Especially Kaz’s lol) And Hajime’s one kind of angst </3 Anyways, feel free to request more of your comfort characters!!<3 Love you all, Plant 🌱

[locria-writes]

untitled pt. 5.5/?

general notes -- short but i'm pulling double duty here lol. anyway, enemy-kun sus af

For the second time that day, she was rendered speechless by the sheer ludicrousness of her situation.

Lieutenant Dahmani had offered to drive her back to her place, and being the miserly person she was, she saw no valid reason to decline, but somehow, he had followed her up the stairs of her building and to the front door of her apartment. While she would very much like to tell him to get lost and never show his pretty face in front of her again, it felt a little awkward to do it now.

“So, um, thanks for the ride…?” Please take the hint and leave.

His smile didn’t even budge, nor did he make any move to leave. Was he waiting to make sure she entered her place so he could make sure she wasn’t lying earlier?

Feeling rather aggrieved, she swiped her key and opened her door, ready to snap at him to get lost, before the sight of her apartment registered.

Her apartment was nothing special – it was a standard studio, sparsely furnished with the furniture that was already there. The only personal touches were the numerous plants she had grown rather obsessed with keeping as companions instead of real people, and a steadily growing collection of books. Of course, she was careful to keep her books a blend of her genuine interests, and bland fluff pieces she would never entertain reading. It was neat, a little lived-in, and overall rather unremarkable, just the way she wanted it.

So it came as a mild shock as she looked around her apartment, which looked more like the aftermath of a stampede, and not at all like what she left it as five days ago. Plants were ripped from their pots, books strewn about, shattered ceramic, and everything in general was just in utter chaos. At first, she thought it was just some destructive burglary, something she could accept, albeit grumpily, but then she thought better of it.

If it had been a simple burglary, there would be no reason to splatter what she figured to be a whole can of red paint on the floor. She stared at it silently, feeling a dull pain building in the base of her skull, and nausea bubbling at the pit of her stomach. “Sorry for the mess,” she said plainly, voice sounding almost tinny in her ringing ears, “I offer you a coffee, but as you can see, that’s a little difficult right now.”

“Hey, are you all right? You look really pale – “

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Symphora quickly stepped into the apartment, and shut the door, ignoring Dahmani completely as she locked and dead bolted the door, just for good measure (which only further begged the question how the hell this happened, if her locks were completely fine).

She took a few deep breaths, ignoring the frantic knocks and calls for her from Dahmani, and she surveyed the room with a more careful eye. Her windows looked untouched (though she supposed it was still possible that someone broke in from there and was just polite enough not to break them and close them afterward), and while most of her things were a mess, her bed and closet still looked like how she left them. There was a gnawing feeling in her stomach that whoever broke in was looking for some very specific things.

Walking around the dried paint, knelt by her bed, and felt around for the box where she kept her journals. As she suspected, the box was gone.

With a deep sigh, she leant against her bed, still sitting on the floor. She wasn’t sure when this happened, but Dahmani clearly knew who her father was, but just lacked any concrete evidence. This incident was probably orchestrated by him, or someone else in the Lunar Fleet to try to get any proof, but luckily, she wasn’t that careless. She kept her journals diligently, seldom missing a day, but it was all very shallow – the weather, general news bits, a non-descript schedule of her day, and extensive notes on her most unassuming interests, namely gardening and books she read.

“It’ll be fine…it’ll be fine…” She stared at the ceiling, trying to make herself sound more convincing.

[ppersonna]

pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it.  Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals.  established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever.  thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in!  i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol.  one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard.  wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing.  Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.  

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes.  Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn.  Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin.  You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house.  Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music.  There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper.  Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips.  You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product.  Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock.  Any product would unfortunately get in the way.  Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips.  Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one.  Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror.  The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly.  Jimin would surely lose his mind.  The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight.   Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary.  But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos.  You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth.  You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.  

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little.  Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry.  I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck 

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in.  You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice.  You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone?  Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance.  Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand.  You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.  

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger.  Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it.  The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching.  The man lived for your exhibitionism.  

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor. 

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you.  Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself.  Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy 

mini 3:07 pm- good.  I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you.  You’ve won the grand prize.  Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home.  You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30.  But was he leaving early?  Could you chance it?  As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door.  Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.  

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back.  You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.  

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity.  The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high.  Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high.  Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom.  He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor.  Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked. 

You’re trembling, you notice.  Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening.  You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent.  He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you.  He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you. 

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle. 

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight.  Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen.  Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous.  His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton.  Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face.  Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you. 

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.  

You play it coy.  “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you.  His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again.  You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early.  Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver.  His hands are smooth, warm.  You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs.  You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees.  He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his.  His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive.  He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife.  It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.  

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks.  It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features.  It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.  

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs.  A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud.  “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious.  As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband.  The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body. 

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments.  “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling.  “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.  

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull.  You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning.  Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground. 

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet.  You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring.  Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake.  You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing.  By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind. 

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it.  Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert.  He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you.  You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.  

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain.  It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy. 

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp. 

SMACK.  It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits.  Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops.  You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs.  He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself.  It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue.  It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.  

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile. 

He’s pleased with your answer.  He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back.  Head off the side.  I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass.  It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him.  The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband.  It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed.  Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles.  His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand. 

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft.  You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe.  I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub.  Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare.  You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine.  Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat.  It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head.  Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think.  You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh.  You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right.  You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself.  The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra.  You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.  

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly.  Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it.  You nod again and blink.  “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning.  It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.  

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.  

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more.  He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites.  You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier.  He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however. 

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you.  His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display.  You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you.  He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.”  He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain.  “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then.  Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit.  A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago. 

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud.  Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe. 

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel.  You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.  

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.  

“Add another.”  His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool.  But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself.  His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch.  The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.  

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily.  He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it.  “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air.  “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby?  You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg.  You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation.  He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now.  You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”  

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying.  Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb.  You had been so close, so deliciously close.  Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night.  You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial. 

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release. 

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel.  He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound.  Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness.  It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it.  It’s about the message, the ownership.  

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction.  “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight.  Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words.  Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night.  It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together. 

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight?  You want to make a baby?”  

You nearly sob at his words.  He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.”  His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven.  His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.  

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on.  You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman.  The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it.  You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background.  It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you.  The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him.  It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet.  He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.  

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock.  “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion. 

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips.  You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there. 

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds.  Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.”  He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you.  You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.  

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere.  You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour.  Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth.  He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him.  He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.  

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality.  You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.  

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open.  He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you.  “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.  

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[bisexualsforprompto]

Yaaayyyy! Congratulations, by the way! Now, I would like a Daminette, 23, "ruling the school"

Wow, three asks for this lol. @wannajointhecrabcult, here it is!

Opposites Attract

Everyone at West-Reeves knew that two people ruled the school.

One with an iron grip, and the other through love and care.

They also knew, that even though the two leaders couldn’t be more different, the fact that they shared such a position meant there was going to be a war, and every student would be caught in the middle.

The school was split in half.

Marinette, the school sweetheart, adored by all and feared by none, was probably the leader everyone at school would want. But only half of the school decided that when the war came, they would take her side. They were moved by her benevolent actions and genuine kindness to everyone she met.

That being said, the other half of the school knew that if it came down to it, Marinette probably wouldn’t be willing to fight against the Demon for her role of ruling the school.

Damian Wayne, the school’s resident rich boy, adored by none and feared by all, had half of the school in his pocket. Some out of sheer amazement that a single person could make so many people pee their pants with just a glare, and the others because they did not want to have their pants wet again.

If a war was coming, most thought that Damian would be able to intimidate his way above Marinette, while others assumed she’d kill him with kindness. Some people knew Marinette could be assertive when she wanted, mostly when she stood up to bullies. Still, most of the school decided that it would be a miracle of Marinette won the war. It didn’t stop some of those people from cheering her on of course.

It seemed like everyone in school, even the teachers, knew about the inevitable war that was coming. The two rulers, however, didn’t seem to have a clue.

They travelled in different circles, in fact, nobody had even seen them interact. The only person they had in common was Jonathan Kent, but that one mutual friend was probably not enough that Damian knew about Marinette.

It was quite possible, that neither of the leaders knew about the other. But every student knew that peace would end and the school would change. As summer crept closer the students felt a buzz in their blood that something big was going to happen.

As it turned out, they were right.

The situation started simple, nobody thought it would spiral into...that.

The teacher of the rowdiest class in the school had apparently ran out of chalk. Instead of leaving her class alone for a minute she made them all follow her out to the supply closet.

She took out her key to unlock it, but as it so happened, the closet was already unlocked.

Nobody was prepared for what came next, much less the twenty-some kids and one teacher who saw firsthand what was in that closet.

The Demon, the rightly named, Ice Prince, and the Angel of the school were in the closet, locking lips.

Pictures were taken, all of them sent.

The whole school knew in a matter of minutes.

Marinette was mortified.

Damian seemed almost happy.

The next day the class found out officially, through Jon Kent, that the two rulers of the school were in fact, dating.

It was a shock to all, but after the initial surprise wore away, the school realized just how good they had it to have two leaders.

On one hand, Damian scared the crap out of any bully trying to be queen bee.

On the other hand, Marinette always stopped him before it got too out of control, and normally, befriended the bully, making them less mean.

There was a certain symbiosis to their mutual reign.

No power struggles arose, and the school quickly found out, Marinette and Damian were actually an adorable couple.

Broody rich boy with sweet baker’s daughter. Opposites, but they somehow brought a new truth to the phrase “opposites attract.”

The couple’s dynamic took some getting used to, but the school swore Marinette was always brighter with him. Some even dared to say that they sometimes saw a small smile when Damian was with her.

Just two lovers, ruling the school.

[sunnydaisy1]

Just a Cold

MARK SLOAN X READER

REQUEST: Could you do one for when Mark is the reader is sick, but is doing everything to not have him notice. Then ends up getting worse. Sorry hope this makes sense lol :)- Anonymous

A/N: I loved this request sooo much! I wasn’t sure whether you wanted Mark and the reader to be in a relationship or not so I kinda did it like they might be but it could also be just flirting idk? I hope I wrote it okay and that you enjoy it :)

*WHY ISNT THERE A CONCERNED MARK GIF WHERE HE ISNT CRYING URGH*

I blinked my eyes open as sun shot through the blinds into my room, glaring across the white and grey walls. I groaned and rolled over, covering my face with a pillow as i slammed the alarm clock off. A vicious cough ripped through me and I winced, my chest contracting and sharp pains running through my head. It was my own fault really, i had gotten off work a little earlier than usual and decided to go for a walk while it was still light out. My downfall really was when I had decided against bringing a coat, instead trusting the stupid jumper I was wearing to keep me warm. The weather had looked nice enough to begin with but after 20 minutes the sky had decided to chuck buckets of water down on me and I was drenched, resulting in the now painful cold I had given myself. I opened my eyes again and looked at the clock, trying to turn the minutes back to give me more sleep. When this failed, I rolled out of my fluffy, lucious cloud of a bed and walked to the bathroom, hoping a warm shower would wake me up and heal my blocked sinuses. I rubbed my eyes as I stepped into the tiled room, looking at the mirror. My reflection wasn't too bad although I could see my eyes were a little puffy and my nose was sporting a tinge of flaring red. Sighing, I turned the shower on and undressed, pulling my hair up into a bun and stepping into the relaxing steamy fumes. When I had finished getting ready and had grabbed a breakfast bar that would end up ignored in my locker, I trudged out the door, locking it behind me and starting the 10 minute walk to the hospital. I really hoped I would have time to grab some medicine before rounds but I doubted it, seeing as I had spent way too long dying in the shower. A strong breeze ripped past me and I shuddered, pulling my coat closer to me and trying to hold down the scratching cough at the back of my throat. I soon arrived at the hospital doors and gladly went inside, thankful for the shelter against the weather. I walked slowly to the residents' locker room, smiling at a few nurses as they walked past. The room was bustling with noise as I entered and a few people called out my name but I just smiled, making my way over to my locker next to Alex. He turned to face me once he saw me coming over and chuckled at my pained expression. "You look like crap." He said as I stripped off my jacket and jumper, pulling my scrubs over the long sleeved shirt I thankfully wore. "Thanks so much Karev." I hissed, now pulling off my trousers and yanking on the rougher blue scrub ones. "No worries Y/N." He grinned at me and I rolled my eyes, sitting down next to him. The locker room seemed to be getting louder by the second and I shut my eyes, trying to block out the dull pain in my head. I stayed like that for a few minutes until I felt Alex nudge me, "Come on don't want the interns slacking off." I nodded and groaned, standing up. We walked side by side until we reached the nurse's station and he went off to torment his group of suck ups. I gathered the folders with patient info and dragged myself over to my 4 interns who stared at me. "What are you waiting for?" I said harshly and they scampered, heading off to the first patient's room as I followed behind. I wasn't usually that harsh with the interns but I was strict and they behaved well, eager to learn. I tried my best to educate them but sometimes they really got on my nerves. Once we made our way into the first patient's room, the interns lined up by the door while I walked to the bed. "Goodmorning Mr Davis, how are you doing today?" I asked softly, trying to hide my running nose. "Alright, hurts a little but it's getting better." I nodded and looked over to one of my interns, "Johnson?" At once the intern started pratlling on about Mr Davis' case and I nodded along, half listening to him, half trying not to close my eyes. He stopped talking fairly quickly and I nodded, "well done, we need hourly checkups on Mr Davis' vitals for the next few days but you should be ready to go home in a few days." I directed the last part at the patient who nodded and smiled. I walked out the room and passed the interns out the patient folders. The next patient was Mrs Walker who had recently had a rhinoplasty to fix her incredibly wonky broken nose from falling off a ladder while painting her house. It had been a simple case but there were complications in the OR and she was now under careful watch. I noticed Mark standing in the corner of the room and I winced, hoping he would ignore me. I walked to the corner of the room by the door and stood a little away from the patient, listening drowsily to the interns. "Morning Y/N." A voice behind me whispered and my heart picked up pace when I recognised Mark's flirty tone. "Sloan." I said curtly, trying to disguise my illness because I know he would make a big deal out of it and really it was nothing. "Ouch, what's got your panties in a twist today?" Mark teased, easily letting the dirty words roll off his tongue. "Nothing." I retorted, not daring to look Mark in the eye. I could feel the warmth of his body behind me and I wanted so desperately to reach out and let his comforting hold engulf me but I couldn't, not wanting him to make a big deal. "If you say so missy." He replied, whispering close to my ear. Despite my cold, I could feel heat rush through my body at Mark's seductive words. Normally I could retort with a witty remark but today the only thing my brain could focus on was the increasing ache in my bones. "Mark if you have finished flirting with Dr L/N, we have other patients to attend to." Derek called out, and I blushed, not even realising he had come into the room. "See you later L/N." Mark said as he left the room, leaving me wanting his heat back. The rest of rounds passed by incredibly slow and I now sat in the locker room again, trying to catch up on forms and paperwork that needed filling out. I had turned most of the lights off so the room was darker and was nursing a warm coffee in my hands. The soothing silence was helping to ease the growing ache in my head but the incessant coughing wasn't letting up. Suddenly, my pager started beeping and I groaned, putting my hot drink down and speed walking to Bailey. I was almost in the patient's room when I spotted Mark coming out of another room a few doors down and I quickly leaped into a supply closet before he could see me. I really loved Mark but he didn't need to see me when I was all runny nosed and coughing like a diseased hag. I waited 20 seconds, counting in my head before opening the door again and checking the coast was clear. It was so I walked out and over to Bailey's patient's room where she stood, talking to him about his upcoming surgery. She shot me daggers when I entered the room and I mouthed a sorry before explaining to Mr Morrison the risks. At lunchtime, I had just finished with a code blue, hoping to head to a dark, quiet space away from distractions. I was just stepping around a corner when I bumped into a solid chest, immediately apologising before looking up to see who it was. "Oh, Mark." I said, scanning the area to look for a way out and avoiding his gorgeous eyes. "Sorry about that Y/N, seems I have a knack for bumping into pretty women going for their lunch." I nodded absent-mindedly, trying to get away. "Right yeah urm I need to go." I said, going to walk past Mark but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Woah woah woah what's the matter?" He asked, instantly concerned at my dismissal of his flirting. "Nothing." I said and he shook his head, bending his head down to meet my averting gaze. "You said that earlier." Mark continued, both hands now on my arms as he kept me still. "mm." I hummed, staring at the wall behind Mark. "You sure you're okay, you look a bit like your going to throw up." He said, concern lacing his voice. "No Im fine." I said, smiling weakly before scooting off down the halls leaving a worried plastic surgeon behind. For the rest of the afternoon, I sat on the bottom floor filling out charts. My headache and coughs had been getting progressively worse to the point where I could barely move due to my body aching so much. Luckily I wasn't in any surgeries today and Bailey hadn't been so much on my heels today although Mark had paged me a few times to the Attending room which I ignored. He had spotted me earlier after Mer had wanted me in the research room but I had run down the halls back here before he could catch me. I knew it was only a matter of time before he sought me out. I was almost done filling out the last chart when the door swung open and a familiar head of peppered hair came through the doors. I cringed inwardly and tried to make myslef as small as possible in the gap between the two hospital beds. I waited, trying to control my laboured breathing as he walked nearer, calling out my name. I closed my eyes shut as he closed in on my position. "Y/N?" Mark asked as he spotted my feet poking out from between the two beds. I winced at his voice and he ducked down, crouching in front of me and placing a hand on each of my bent knees. "Y/N?" He asked again and I opened my eyes. He sucked in a breath and immediately tried to bring me closer to him but I groaned. "No please Mark it hurts." I whispered, my voice just a croak. "Jesus Y/N you look like a ghost." Mark said, his face serious and eyes kind. I tried to smile but I couldn't manage, my head flaring up with every movement. Mark gathered the charts I had lying around me and placed them on the nearby bed before squatting back down. "Hey let's get you out of here." He softly said, but I shook my head, sniffling and wincing at the ache. "Come on, I'll help you." He continued, placing a hand on my warm cheek. I looked into his eyes and gave in, nodding slightly. Mark wrapped an arm around my waist and put another on my hip as he helped lift me up, careful to not be to rough. "That's it." He softly spoke, my hands resting on his upper arms for support. As soon as I was standing he brought me into his chest, resting his head on top of mine and stroking my back softly. I closed my eyes and breathed in his comforting scent, relaxing into the warmth. I felt Mark's hand smooth my hair and kiss the top of my head before he whispered, "Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" He stepped back slightly but still held me close, looking into my eyes. "I didn't want to bother you, it's not that bad." I replied, slightly shaky. "Y/N..." Mark said, brushing my hair behind my ear and cupping my face. "What bother's me is not knowing your ill and not being able to help." He said, bringing me back into his arms. "Im sorry." I said, nuzzling into his neck. "It's okay, let's get you into bed." Mark replied, kissing my forehead. Mark had ended up persuading me to go to his house, and I was currently stood in his bathroom, a towel wrapped around me. The steam from the hot shower had freed up my nose a little but the throbbing in my head hadn't let up yet. I walked into Mark's bedroom, rubbing my eyes. "Hey." Mark smirked, making me open my eyes to see his stupid self standing there with a cheeky grin as his eyes ran up and down my body. "My eyes are up here." I said quietly, making him chuckle and a small smile come across my face. "You know I think my towel on you is my new favourite look of yours." Mark said as he watched me walk across the carpeted floor to him. I narrowed my eyes at him and sniffled, holding onto the white fluffy towel that just surpassed my bum tightly. "If I wasn't so ill right now Sloan, I'd punch that pretty little grin off of your face." I hissed, taking the sweatpants and tshirt out of his hands. "Oh so you think I'm pretty then?" Mark teased, eyes still wandering. "Piss off." I said, watching Mark as he smirked wider and I headed into the bathroom again, closing the door. When I had managed to pull the black tshirt on, I looked at the sweatpants and groaned, resenting having to struggle into another item of huge clothing. It was worse than putting leggings on after swimming. I had panties on and Mark's tshirt came down to my mid thigh so I unlocked the door, hoping Mark had a pair of shorts I could wear. As soon as I stepped out, Mark sat up on the bed, eyes raking my body yet again. "Jeez Y/N you think you were trying to kill a man." He said as I walked towards him, cradeling the sweatpants. I was exhausted and couldn't think of any remark so just stuck my hands out, extending the sweatpants to Mark. "I'm too tired to put them on." I said quietly before a violent cough coursed through my body. "Okay come here." Mark said and sat me down on the bed, taking the sweatpants. I expected him to walk off to get some shorts but he crouched down in front of me and lifted my ankle into the cuff of the sweatpants. I blushed and muttered, "thanks." Mark just grinned and winked cheekily, making my face flush even more. He brought the sweatpants to my knees before asking me to stand up which I did. He went to take them up further and started lifting the tshirt before I grabbed his hands. "I think I can do the rest." I said softly, rolling my eyes at Mark's constant dirty flirting. "Worth a try." He remarked, brushing the hair out my face. Once I had gotten the sweatpants on and had gulped down 2 glasses of water and some medicine, I walked back from the hallway to Mark's room, seeing him lying in the bed with his pyjamas on. I yawned and smiled sleepily. "Gonna come join me missy?" He asked, flicking the duvet off to reveal his tartan clad legs and comfy bed. I nodded, dragging myself to the other side of the bed and climbing in before resting next to Mark. He chuckled and lifted me slightly, laying my head down on his chest and wrapping my arm around his waist while he hugged mine. I sighed contently and snuggled into his warming body, letting waves of sleepiness wash over me, lulling me to sleep. Mark turned the bedside light off and kissed the top of my head, whispering, "Night love." I smiled and closed my eyes, drifting off. 

[midnightmoonkiss]

Painful Stings & Sweet Apologies

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Rage fueled by failure, Izuku finds comfort in a bar, only to come home to a broken promise and a furious darling. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

WARNINGS!: blood, violence, alcohol (Izuku under the influence)

Category: Angst, one-sided fluff

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: This is my first yandere fic! I’m nervous as hell, I have no idea if I got this right lol. Though I did spend months perfecting it to the best of my abilities! Hope you enjoy~

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

It’s Friday

It’s cold and rainy (naturally--)

Izuku’s bedroom has a walk in closet and a bathroom

the kitchen is off-limits

THIS IS A YANDERE FIC!

Izuku is an obsessive yandere~

Cold, burning liquid rushed down the male’s throat as he gulped at the drink within the short glass.

Whiskey, or more specifically - a Jack Daniels, the honey-brown alcohol that delivered a bitter slap to all those who drank its refreshing nectar. 

It wasn’t his usual drink, and certainly not one he’d ever guzzle like a parched beast.

Hell, who in their right mind would do that? Even with a single sip, it left your chest burning with its heat.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Or, more of, self-loathing times call for a quick, one-way ticket to Forget-Me Ville and Cringe Island.

The bar he sat at was lively, filled with drunken laughter and slurred speeches of men and women who have been out for far too long.

But it was Friday night, so who cared?

A rainy, cold, sucky, depressing Friday night, one of which his friends tried to make a bit better by taking the pissed off, green-haired hero out for drinks.

They certainly hadn’t expected Izuku, an innocent little guy who couldn’t handle his liquor for shit, to shoot down an entire glass of whiskey.

At first, he ordered a simple beer - a starter drink if you will.

It didn’t take but ten minutes for him to gulp that glass down, and he was onto his next drink - a sangria wine cooler. His typical drink. He always was more of a fruity guy, after all, preferring the sweet tang over the bitter bite.

But as the night raged on, and so did his inner turmoil, he kept ordering stronger and stronger drinks, until he got to the whiskey. You could say he lost his sense of reason a while ago.

He was still seething with rage, not as much as before but the mixture of anger and frustration swirled hotly with the alcohol pumping through his veins and sitting in his belly.

You could say it was keeping him warm in this lifeless atmosphere.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t think of you, his precious little darling. He could barely think straight, mind occupied with too many thoughts to be able to understand any of them. It was all a garbled mess, one he chose to ignore.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He’d find out later.

But for now?

He needed another drink.

In the beginning, this Friday seemed like it was going to be one of the best he’ll ever have.

For months this pro hero has been working alongside detectives with catching a murderous villain known by the name “Ghoul.”

They were sick and twisted, their motives unknown, their trail hard to tract.

He had only one encounter with them, but he was too late to catch them.

That’s the day he was brought in to help aid the case.

But, that day haunted him for weeks. He knew that if he had arrived at the bloody scene sooner, he could have captured that cannibalistic fuck, brought justice to those who had already died by their mangy hands.. and prevented the deaths that would ensue after.

He’d known horrible villains before, but this one was different. Their teeth were sharp, blood permanently stained their clothes, and they gave off a wolfish vibe. Yes, a hunter. One who tore flesh from human bones and munched on it until someone screamed in terror for help.

For months he helped gather intel, piece puzzle pieces together, aid with location predictions and stakeout missions, until finally - they found that bastard.

It was more of a hunch than anything really, that Ghoul would show up to that site.

Ghoul, while hard to track, left a pattern in their wake. They avoided certain areas, thrived where the poor were at their weakest. The murders always seemed to happen at the exact same time behind run-down fast-food restaurants.

It was unclear if the sicko liked a hearty human meal with their victims own stomachs filled with greasy, fattening food, or if it was just convenient to them, either way - the perp was too damn sloppy.

To regular ol’ police personnel, the murders would just always happen there, behind restaurants.

But after Deku’s team began tracking where each and every murder occurred, it was quite easy to tell they were drawing, funnily enough, a circle around the city’s map.

It was stupid, childish, and downright idiotic, but damn if that didn’t lead the team to find the cold-blooded killer.

Adrenaline and pure hatred for the villain fueled Deku’s onslaught of attacks, each seemingly more powerful and less calculated. His mind was muddled.

He was filled with rage, finally being able to see the shitty excuse of a human again, but it affected his movements. He was being hasty, careless, not his usual calculated self.

And that’s what brought him his demise.

His shoulder was harshly bitten, razor-sharp teeth tearing through the fabric of his suit and shredding up the skin on his shoulder. Their quirk pumped through his blood instantly, making him collapse onto his knees, paralyzed. He hissed in pain as the sickeningly warm liquid flowed down his arm, unable to stop himself from face planting onto the dirty gravel of the alleyway.

He had lost, and Ghoul got away.

He still remembers it, after all, it was only hours ago that it happened.

The sun had long since set, the crescent moon hung high in the sky as her stars shimmered around her. His wound was stitched up and healed by doctors, leaving only a bitter scar to remind him of his failure.

He failed not only himself but those who counted on him.

God, he sucked.

And so, he ordered another drink.

He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to feel the failure sting at his fragile heart anymore.

It was too much to take.

What type of hero let the villain get away, knowing full well that they would kill again?

They couldn’t track Ghoul’s trail anymore, for the circle had been completed - and they were left with nothing with the numbing feeling of brutal loss.

Hours blurred together as his mind went hazy. His speech slurred together, dull, green eyes unfocused and mouth blabbering out nonsense to his friends that he couldn’t even really hear. It just- came out. 

Soon enough, he was being dragged out of the bar by his annoyingly sober friends.

The night had gotten colder since they first entered the warm bar, rain pelted down like freezing bullets flying from a machine gun. A dirty old awning kept them dry as they stood still at the front of the bars entrance, the loud music bouncing off the walls inside echoed down the empty streets.

Heavy streams of salty rainwater poured off the edge of the awning, splattering down into a mud puddle that emptied into the sewer grate below.

Who doesnt love the musty stench of rain on asphalt?

Hell, the smell itself, combined with the strong yet savory scent of the Korean barbeque joint across the street was enough to make him nauseous. He had drank far too much, and his stomach was suffering the consequences. He should have eaten more before drinking. How foolish.

 “It’s pretty late, you should head home.” Reasoned his best friend, Todoroki, puffs of condensation leaving his mouth as the warm breath met cold air, pressing a freezing hand to the back of the freckled boy's sweaty neck to jolt his drowsy, drunken self into a more alert state. Nothing but time could sober you up, but damn if that hand didn’t help slap some energy into him.

“Yeaahh, ye-yeahhh.. I gooht you Todooroe.” God, he sounded like someone high on anesthesia after being awoken from a surgery - which he definitely would be able to compare this experience to. Being a hero meant at least a few surgeries a year. Comes with the job.

Plus, this wasn’t the first time he’s been drunk.

He sure as hell hated the aftermath, but some nights it felt as if the hot burn of alcohol was the only thing that could keep him sane.

This was just one of those nights - or perhaps it was multiple nights slammed into one from just how stupidly drunk he was. The world was blurred, and Izuku doubted he could even walk straight at this point.

The half and half hero waved down a stray taxi, street water splashing up onto the sidewalk as the yellow vehicle came to a screeching halt.

“Get home safe.” Todoroki sighed out his nose at seeing his friends out-of-it state, helping the giddy and jelly-like hero into the back seat.

Izuku pouted, grabby hands clinging onto his friend's shirt in protest.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Todoroki pried himself free from his grip, handing the cab driver more than enough yen to get the drunk boy home.

He gave the taxi driver an address, and soon the car was rolling off down the street, Izukus flushed face pressed against the cold, fogging glass and staring with eyes full of tears at his friend.

Though, it seemed as if he had forgotten a promise he made to someone very important to him. Someone who he devoted his entire life to.

Someone who he risked everything for.

You.

His princess who had been locked in a small, dark room all day, wrists tightly cuffed to loose chains on the wall. The only light provided was a rusty oil lamp Izuku had gotten at a yard sale one day. The flame was dull, and left the room covered in shadows.

The tile below was as cold as it had been since the morning when Izuku had forcefully chained you there for misbehaving the night before.

You had deserved this punishment for disobeying him.

That’s what he tried to convince, anyway.

He was only trying to keep you safe! He hated punishing you, hated the way you thrashed and screamed at him in protest - that only meant he had to be rougher with you. You had broken into the most dangerous room in the apartment, afterall.

The kitchen.

There were far too many harmful objects in there!

Knives that could slice your delicate skin to shreds, forks that could jab into your body, hot stoves that could leave you with a nasty burn, and canned food stored too high up on the shelf that could fall and hit your head.. It was for your protection that the kitchen was off-limits to you!

Plus, Izuku, your oh-so kind and sweet boyfriend, had no problem with cooking you meals to eat together. In fact, he loved it!

He felt accomplished whenever you'd hum in approval at his cooking, or even turned on if that slutty mouth of yours just so happened to moan around your utensil. 

Those were the nights dinner was forgotten.

But you had been foolish, entering the kitchen for a midnight snack whilst Izuku was out on patrol. Your sneaky little self thought you were clever, leaving no trace of your betrayal.

Until you were awoken hours later by a green glow, blood running cold as a pair of murderous neon eyes stared into yours.

It had to be one of the scariest sights to date.

His pupils were shrunk, green electricity buzzing around his large body. He hovered over your trembling body, a wrapper in between his two gloved fingers.

He was so close, your noses brushed together.

You swore he could see into your soul, as well as see the fear in your (E/C) eyes.

“What is this, (Y/N)?” He had asked innocently, hurt coating his words.

“I-” you wanted to make an excuse, protest, say it wasn’t yours, but every single letter died on your tongue as his face pressed closer, a sadistic smile overtaking his features.

“You didn’t.. You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

His hot, minty breath blew all over your face as he spoke, and you shriveled back in fear as insanity crossed his expression in that way you were far too familiar with.

The giggles bubbled in his throat as he tried to fight logic with delusion, “It wasn’t you, right? Someone broke in, didn’t they? You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?”

His voice was cracking, fingers digging into the flesh of the bed beneath you as his eye began to twitch.

He stared down at you, curly green hair brushing against the sides of your face, waiting far too long for an answer he would never get. His bottom lip wobbled, feat tears welling up in his eyes and falling onto your pale cheeks as his body shook with anger and sadness.

He was already stressed about the following mornings mission, and to come home to his princess betraying his trust was not something he enjoyed.

And so, you were punished.

But he had promised you wouldnt be locked in there for long, he knew how you feared the dark. He had conditioned you to fear it, after all. It was his greatest accomplishment.

You were always so willing to cuddle into him when the lights were off.

A few hours turned into nearly an entire day, the only indication you had of this was past experiences, skin around your wrists rubbed raw from the metal cuffs, and the unusual sting of your ass and bare legs burning from the freezing tile beneath you.

That was the least of your worries, though.

Worst of all - the flame, which was holding you together and keeping you from crying out for help to those who might hear you in this soundproof room, which would no doubt get you a harsher punishment, was about to die out.

That flame, albeit small, was your only hope of surviving this.

Izuku was typically a very reliable person, it was strange for him to not keep his word to you. He devoted his being to you, worshipped the ground you regrettably walked upon, why would he break his own promise?

The thought of being trapped in the dark, the echo of your chains taunting your delirious mind had you close to tears. You didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

You watched in horror as the flame got smaller and smaller, tears now rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded under your breath for it to last longer.

The air vents around you provided enough oxygen for it to survive, but that damn oil..

Where was he?! 

Suddenly, the door to his apartment flew open, giggles seeping through the house and teasing your ears.

Then, there was no more light.

A screech tore from your throat, a desperate call of his name as you thrashed around, tears pouring from your eyes.

You felt as if you couldnt breathe as your head whipped around the space, desperate for more air and light as your lungs seemed to scream.

You couldnt feel the cold chill of the floor anymore, body numb as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

What was in the dark?

How big was this space again?

Rather, how small was it?

What was that noise?

Did something just touch you?

There was wind, there was wind, no. A cold chill?

Oh god what was that-

Loud, clumsy footsteps made their way closer and closer to the locked metal door. You sobbed as your heard the jingle of keys, metal scraping against metal as he fumbled with inserting them into the lock.

Until finally, you were basked in the honey-dew glow of the bedroom.

You fought to control your breathing as he dropped to his knees, taking far too long for your liking to get the cuffs off.

But at least now you know why he took so god damn long.

You could smell the putrid miasma of alcohol wafting off him the moment he stepped into the darkroom, tainted with the salty effluvium of rainwater as it dripped onto your skin from his damp, messy hair.

Rage bubbled inside you as he giggled once more at your tear-stained cheeks, “D-did yoou miss mee?” He slurred, a giddy smile on his face as the stale stench of what he had been drinking all night circled around your head like a rotten wreath.

Instead of answering, like you knew you should have, you turned your head towards the door, soaking in the light you were previously deprived of. Even if it was just a mere minute.

At your silence, his smile quickly turned into a frown. Big, forestry green eyes welled up with sadness, bottom lip trembling, “(Y-Y/N)?” He couldnt help but reach out, scarred fingers wishing to wipe away those stray tears from your face.

You missed him.

That’s why you were crying, surely.

He wanted to comfort you, say that he was there now and that you could both cuddle until twinkling dawn.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was all you needed, and he was right beside you.

He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for him.

Because you love each other.

“D-Don’t cry-”

His cold hand was smacked away, and his usually sturdy body was shoved back so that you could scramble out of the freezing closet.

You needed space.

More room to breath.

To be on flooring that didnt feel like ice cutting into your flesh.

Hell, you were sure the skin that had the unholy misfortune of touching the floor were burned red at this point from how long you had to sit there.

Not to mention your poor wrists, you couldnt even bear the sight of them being so raw. You were pretty sure they would bleed if you even touched them. Your body was screaming in pain, stomach growing for food, mouth parched from not being given water so that you wouldnt make a mess on the floor.

You were weak, shaking, and afraid.

That bastard had the gall to say not to cry, to look concerned when he knew damn well how much you absolutely despised the dark.

At first it was a childish fear, but the moment he snatched you from your regular life, that fear became a reality. There were countless nights you’d be punished by being left alone in the dark.

He didnt want to hurt you, no, and he never has, but damn if he hasnt conditioned you to be afraid. 

Storms were the worst.

What was once a peaceful white noise turned into a terrifying nightmare once the moon rose in the sky.

There were times you were locked in that closet during violent storms, screaming and begging to be let out.

Sometimes you were, other times you werent as lucky.

Though it was only raining right now, each pitter-patter of the droplets against the window or balcony made hairs on your neck stand up. The sound was previously muted in the closet, but now it was hitting you like a freight train on a track that never seemed to end.

You heard him scramble to his feet as you wiped your tears away, the creak of the floorboards as he stumbled towards you.

A subtle bang made you jump, his foot no doubt hitting the chest at the end of your bed. Everso the clumsy one, even in an illuminated room.

Suddenly, he was right behind you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as his head dropped to your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against your neck.

Perhaps it would have been pleasant, comforting, even, if he wasnt soaked to the bone. The cold water from his dark grey, long-sleeved sweater was now seeping into your own thin clothes, freezing wet hair sending shivers down your spine and it presses against your heated, sensitive skin. Some drops even went down your back, ripping a gasp from you.

This wasnt comforting at all.

This was suffocating.

You squirmed in his grasp, desperate to get the hell away from him.

You were already pissed, and him wrapping around you and squeezing you tight like a snake to its prey was the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae.

With a grunt, you used the rest of what little strength you had left to rip yourself free from his ‘hug,’ nearly tripping on your own two feet as you rushed away from him.

He pouted at you as you shoved yourself into a corner of the room, finding comfort in being able to see all around you, no surprise attacks from behind, only what was in front of you.

Your breath was heavy as you glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

Truly, you had some nerve.

But it was hard to help it.

He broke a promise.

He never does that, and yet in your time of need- he wasn’t there for you.

For once.

He knew damn well you were locked up, scared shitless, expecting him to return home in a few short hours, yet here he is - looking absolutely clueless as to why you were suddenly so angry at him.

Tears streamed down his drunkenly flushed cheeks, hurt by how you shoved him away again.

All he wanted to do was snuggle you, his body exhausted yet numbed by the alcohol still burning in his tummy.

“Where..” you started, voice low, scratchy, and dripping with venom that reached deaf ears. “Where have you been!”

Just as he was about to open that mouth of his, no doubt about babble nearly incoherently - form logical excuses with evidence to back him up, say he lost track of time which you know damn well he never did, you shut him up.

You hated dealing with him when he was drunk, hell - you hated dealing with his obsessive ass most days.

But drunk? Drunk he got worse. He was clingy, more emotional, and worst of all? He didn’t have a filter.

He always managed to hide those more sinister desires under that sweet mask of his - until alcohol brought it out.

God, the smell of it made you sick to your stomach, but luckily you didn't have any food to throw up.

No thanks to him.

“What the fuck, Midoriya?!” You leered at him, noticing quickly the way his eyes darkened in that way they always did when you referred to him by his family name - the name he hated being called by you of all people.

“I’ve been trapped in that room all goddamn day! You said it’d be a few hours? What the hell happened to that! Look at the fucking time! Nine hours! Nine hours I’ve been stuck in my own personal hell! I can’t feel my fucking legs because of you!”

“I-” he attempted to start, the firm grip he had on his sanity quickly loosening with every shout you threw at him.

You cut him off, again, pent up rage now overtaking your sense of reason and fear, “What the hell happened?! You know what! I don’t even care! Not only did you,” You pointed a trembling finger at his stilled body, “break a promise! Something you swore you would never fucking do, you also had the nerve at laugh at me as I was trembling in fear!”

You looked like a mess, body shaking and bent over itself, one arm clutched around your waist as if to hold yourself together as that accusing finger stayed trained on him. Your hair was messy, frizzy, soaked with sweat and oily as hell from being denied a shower. Your clothes, thin and girly - much to your utter distaste, but to his satisfaction - now damp thanks to his carelessness.

All of this was because of him.

It always was.

Every single thing that went wrong in your life always seemed to be because of him nowadays.

You couldnt believe you let yourself fall for that misleading smile all those years ago, only to end up like this.

A mouse in a lions den.

But hell if that would stop you from squeaking your heart out till his razor-sharp claws ultimately caged you back in.

“Do you see my wrists?!” with a strangled sob, you held up both of your arms to show him the mess he already knew was his fault, “look at them! They hurt so fucking much because you left me in those disgusting handcuffs! This is all your fault!”

Your knees were wobbling so bad you swore your legs would give out at any second, but you’d be damned if you didnt hold your ground to this lunatic.

True, some days he was nice, normal, even. But days like these, or days much worse, you were reminded of just who he really was.

A monster was stretching it. He never intentionally tried to hurt you, your friends, or even your family.

No, he just stole you from your apartment in the dead of night, convinced the reason you were crying was because of the thunderstorm and not because some psycho snatched you from your window like some sort of 1970’s movie trope. That night he cradled your thrashing body to his hard chest with his strong arms, cooing at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you begged to be let go. You were just scared of the storm~ He would keep you safe~ He is the number one hero, afterall~

That was all utter bullshit, straight from the beginning.

And even now he was still wrapped in the delusion that you loved him as much as he loved you.

A fated pair.

Please.

But you still held on to the pathetic hope that one day he’d snap out of it, return to the Izuku you knew from the beginning and not the person who now stood a few feet in front of you, staring with cold, emotionless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he says impassively, face as blank as a new canvas - unreadable and dangerous in every way imaginable. It was hard not to feel as if he was just waiting to strike, already calculating his next moves like he always seemed to do. It was far easier to deal with an angry Izuku than one where you couldn’t read his already complex emotions, thoughts, anything. He was the definition of expressive, and it truly took a fuckin bullet to the back of his head for him to be like this.

So clearly, you hit a nerve.

Wonderful.

“Oh?” Despite knowing the implications of the situation you found yourself in, it was impossible not to laugh at such a pathetic fucking apology.

Knowing him, he probably was sorry, deep down inside. You knew he didn’t like seeing you hurt, especially if it was because of his doing, and yet- you pressed on. 

Pent up anger was a nasty thing to deal with, especially since it’s been brewing inside you for so long.

“Are you now? You don’t fucking seem sorry! If you were really sorry, you wouldnt have done it! But look where we are! You’re such a fucking-!”

“Shut up.” he growls out borderline maliciously, stumbling slightly as he turns to walk out the door. He was clearly fed up, his strong hands clenched into threatening fists, but so were you. Even if you were undeniably frightened to confront him, you wouldn't let that stop you from pushing yourself off the wall - your safe space - and wobbling after him.

“Look at you! You can’t even walk right! How drunk are you, huh? Washing away your feelings again, are you? What about my feelings! Huh?!”

You were pushing it.

You really were.

The entire house felt it, the air chillingly still as Izuku had to grind his teeth together so as to not lash out at you. 

He didn’t want to.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but all that stress and self-hatred previously washed away was coming back up to the burning surface that cages his discretion.

Heavy breaths blew out his nostrils as he made his way to the living room, desperate for you to get the hint from his hunched over body that he wanted you to fuck off.

Yeah, he messed up, deep down he knew he did but currently his mind was far too clogged to even begin to comprehend it.

You were like an annoying mosquito, your words morphing into a persistent buzz.

He was ignoring you, and that made you livid.

He always ignored you when your problems were deemed irrelevant, or when he found you were being far too vexatious.

He always did this, always.

You were trapped in a cell with some asshole who didn't even want to listen to you.

Obviously, you had enough.

Typically you’d back off, go fume in another room or punch the wall till the skin around your knuckles tore open and dripped blood everywhere, making him snap out of whatever state he was in just to suffocate you in his toxic love.

Oh how life proved to be full of surprises.

A low growl of your own slithered passed your teeth, eyes practically burning red as if you prayed you had a quirk that could do something against him.

“You’re a selfish bastard! You fucking piss-poor excuse of a hero-!”

SLAP!

A shrill scream tore from your raw throat, the echo of skin burning against skin dizzying you as you were thrown back onto the floor.

Boiling hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed out of pure fear, body shaking uncontrollably and you shuffled backward, desperate to get yourself as far away from him as you could currently manage.

It had all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to register it as it occurred.

One moment his hands were gripping the back of the couch with such strength you could see his knuckles turn a ghostly white, and the next, crackling, neon-green lightning surrounded his body, illuminating the dim apartment in a slimy glow. Before you even had a chance to register just what happened, he whipped his head around, his eyes, typically blown wide with sickening love and sparkling under delusional illusions, were narrowed and glowing in a way that sent shivers of immense regret down your spine. His arm whipped back with his hand, the very hand that delivered a painfully paralyzing slap.

He always spoke with his hands, and you just happened to be too close to him at that moment.

The reddended skin of your cheek burned, and you swore you could feel more than just tears streaming down it.

You were stuck shaking on the floor, imaginary bile rising in your throat, and all you could do was stare at him with wide, bloodshot and terrified eyes.

He had never laid a hand on you like that before, you didnt know what to think.

He always promised to do you no intentional harm, to never lay a finger on you with intentions of making you cry out in pain.

He had never acted so feral and out of line before.

It.. it scared you in a way you never felt before.

The gap between you grew, you really were just a mouse trembling in a lion's den.

“P-princess-” he shakily called out, voice weak and uneven, quirk diminishing into thin air like it never was there in the first place.

His own eyes were wide and filled with immense regret, tears already pouring down his flushed, freckled face.

He took one step forward, and you scrambled back, hand coming up to touch at your cheek, shock making you feel faint at the sight of blood coating your trembling fingertips.

You felt sick once again, empty stomach feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself to push even the tiniest bit of nonexistent food out.

You didnt know what to do.

Choking on your own sobs, you tried desperately to shuffle away from him, but he only came closer.

You cried out the moment he dove at you, your hands clasped together tightening against your chest as if to hold yourself together as this bear of a man wraps his arms cold, soaked arms protectively around you, his large shoulders violently shaking as he buried his snotty, tear stained face deep into your unruly tresses.

The stench of alcohol burned your nostrils, edging you on to try and push his heavy chest away. You tried, but you failed miserably, resulting in his arms pulling you even closer to his sweaty and damp body. It was disgusting.

“L-let go of me!” you wailed, your own tears stinging your eyes as your vision blurred and you could no longer tell just what you were staring blindly at, the dimness of the living-room paired with the suffocating embrace of your captor swallowing you whole.

You couldnt take it.

You could barely breathe at this point.

“p-p-ple .. plea-s-se..!” your cries intertwined with his own desperate ones as he babbled nearly incoherently on about how sorry he was, how he never meant to do something so horrible.

“I’m not a monster!” he howled out, desperate words seeping with ululation.

He was desperately trying to convince himself of that.

He wasn’t talking to you at all.

He was talking to himself.

He wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t a monster.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like that piece of filth.

No, he’s so much better.

He’s a good man.

No, no, he’s not a monster.

He’s your hero.

He could never purposely harm you.

No.

It was an accident.

An accident.

You’d understand.

He knew you would!

You always understood him.

You were like two peas in a pod!

You forgave him, surely.

Yes.

Yes!

You did the moment he hugged you, the moment he started comforting you.

He was a good man.

How could you not forgive him?

He loved you so, so, so much.

You knew that-

You knew he would never do such a thing.

His breathing was even, eyes wide and straining as he stared at the floor, a crooked smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over again in his twisted mind.

He never met to hurt you.

No.

He didnt.

“Plea-” you tried once more, biting your wobbling lip as he squeezed you even tighter.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” he heaved out, hand coming up to gently pet your oily hair as if to calm you. His head shook back and forth in your hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry, honey.”

There was nothing you could do.

You were stuck alone in a mouse trap, the cold, metallic bar snapped down on top of your frail neck.

There was no escape.

There never was.

His form of ‘love’ far too strong for you to even attempt to.

And so, you gave up. 

Just like you always did.

There was no point in resisting him.

Sticky blood trickles down your raw cheek, dripping down onto the chilled bare skin of his neck, still cold from the damp clothes he wore, instantly catching his wondering attention.

“You.. you’re bleeding?” he whispered guiltily, already feeling a new wave of salty tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

His large left hand trailed up the skin of your neck, idly collecting the thin trail of red liquid onto his fingertips and smearing a path up to your jawline, stopping the moment your shivering form flinched.

He frowned at the red mark taking up half your beautifully innocent face, a small cut resting in the middle of it where no doubt the ring he foolishly wore as an accessory swiped.

Guilt made his stomach churn, the familiar burn of acid rising in his throat.

A deep inhale, and he swallowed it down, arm still wrapped around you, languidly rubbing your back as he stared with nothing short of pity at your wrecked state.

Your lips wobbled, holding in a reply as you force yourself to look into the vast abyss of darkness that was the hallway of your apartment instead of his orbs gleaming with concern.

Concern.

Concern for something he caused.

At least he had a heart, but you were still scared shitless and wanted nothing more than to run away. You were still fighting to regulate your breathing.

His thumb suddenly pressed against the slap mark, ripping a yelp from your throat as your head flung back to avoid any more contact. It was then that you noticed a pounding headache echoing inside your skull, yet another reason to aid in the water running down your face. Pain consumed your body, and you wanted nothing more than to escape this shell you were trapped in.

Openly chewing on his lip, both of his arms went back around you, cradling your delicate form to his chest.

Without a word, he stood up, practically forcing you to have to wrap your bare legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, something you were trained to do by him. He loved it when your legs were around his waist whenever he picked you up.

It became a regrettable second nature.

Heavy foot steps brought you back to your bedroom, and then into the bathroom connected to it.

Your fears crept up your spine at the pitch black room you were forced into, remembering how you were in a similar position just a few minutes ago.

When would this cycle end?

Ah. 

It wouldnt, would it?

You were set delicately down atop the cold marble counter as if you were a fragile piece of glass, which, in many ways, you were. The tears had at least stopped, but your body continuously shook like a chihuahua, your breathing still hard to control as fumbled around mindlessly with your fingers to serve as a distraction.

He flipped the light on, momentarily blinding your sensitive gaze with its bright light.

Sniffing, you wiped at your nose, watching as he walked about the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth just to run it under cool water. The rain was still heavily pouring just outside the wall mixed with the loud splatters of the stream against the white sink. It would have been calming had cold water not splashed up onto your bare thighs, making goosebumps prickle along your skin. Your thighs were nearly numb at this point.

After ringing most of the water out, he held it up to your cheek, staring at you.

Taking the cue, you hesitantly took the cool, wet cloth from his grasp and gingerly pressed it to the swelling skin on your face. You hiss out in pain, dry sobs wracking your body at the stinging pain and the fact that he was still far too close for you to currently handle.

The pain on your cheek paired with the numbing cold was a good distraction.

You chewed on your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, freehand gripping tightly at the hem of your shirt as you listen to him fumble around in the cabinet hanging over to the left.

You jumped the moment you felt his larger fingers ghost over the ones holding the cloth to your cheek, cautious (E/C) eyes opening ever so slightly as you looked over at him.

You couldnt help but feel idiotic as you suddenly felt flustered at the intense gaze he was giving you, eyes now gleaming viridescent in the white light of the bathroom almost staring right into your soul.

It was like he was reading you, pulling words off your own frail pages just so he could recite them to you.

He did this often.

Keeping silent, staring for long periods of times as he tried out scenarios in his head of the words he was going to say.

It gave you chills, but yet, it made you feel like you were the center of his drifting attention.

The sun his planets revolve tirelessly around, repeating the same cycles like a record forever skipping on repeat.

In these moments, though, he became an enigma.

Not exactly something your fragile state of mind entirely needed right now.

You shivered when his palm came to cup your soft jawline, thumb absentmindedly tracing over your parted lips.

His mouth opened, ready to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Mouth shutting, he leaned forward, tentatively bringing you into another hug.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, the words nearly as quiet as your stilled breath, but you had nothing to say to it. And he knew it.

He was used to you staying silent.

He would prefer it most of the time.

So he could sink into his fantasies, the deluded fantasies that you loved him wholeheartedly, that you chose to stay silent as to not hurt his feelings, and always forgave him no matter what.

That you would forever and always be his.

He wouldnt give you the choice not to be.

He wouldnt let you leave when you’re his favorite person in the whole wide world.

The only one he needed.

And he was the only one you needed.

Yes.

Of course.

You didn’t need anyone else but him.

And he didn’t need anyone else but you.

So what if a few more people died because of his mistake, he would capture Ghoul eventually. Regardless, he would always come home to you.

Always.

And that’s all he needed.

He chucked against your neck, having buried it in the crook as his mind slipped through his shaky fingertips.

The Big Bad Wolf and his Little Red Riding Hood.

God how he loved the comparison.

Perhaps he was addicted.

Addicted to you.

Even now, as he inhaled your sugary sweet, natural scent stained with the metallic smell of dried blood.

Pulling back, he gazed into your hesitant eyes, delicately resting his forehead against yours.

His hair, now dry and no longer dripping with salty rain, tickled your skin, making you involuntarily take in a deep breath.

Closing his eyes once more, he soaks in the moment of your warm body in his frigid embrace, nothing else mattered to him.

Just you.

Only you.

“L-let me see your cheek,” he asks softly, words not as wobbly as before,  afraid that if he spoke too loudly in such a thin atmosphere, everything would shatter abruptly like glass.

Your body moved on instinct as if you were used to doing as he asked immediately no matter what, pulling the cool cloth away from your burning cheek.

Resisting the urge to sniffle and flinch away, you allow him to rewet the cloth, holding still as he dabs lightly at the small wound.

“I know it hurts,” he breathes out, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” it was always so strange how his voice still managed to calm your nerves even after all you’ve been through.

Deep down, you knew he was still that loving and energetic boy you met back at that coffee shop.

If only you knew how sinister and twisted he could really be.

Perhaps.. perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a situation now.

But there was never any point in pondering the what-ifs.

All you could do was fight your mind from seeking normalities in such a relationship as this, if you could even call it that.

You wouldn’t succumb to his desires like you always did.

You wouldnt lose yourself.

No.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Or was it too late already?

You hissed when you felt the stinging seer of rubbing alcohol dotted onto your cut, cleaning the wound.

“It’s okay.” he repeats, cooing to you with a reassuring smile that should have made you feel sick all over again.

You let him apply antibiotic ointment and a small cheek bandage, his hands shaky yet careful. You could say he has experience in applying bandages.

It was uncomfortable as it sat on your raw skin, but it’s not like you were going to go and rip it off. That would feel like ripping off a wax strip on a sunburn.

Humming, he gingerly wipes away the dried blood on your neck with the same washcloth, not minding how blood-stained the innocently white fabric became. 

Next came your still aching wrists. There wasn’t much he could do for your legs, but at least he had roll-on bandages on standby.

Turning the cold tap on, he lets you run them under cool water before gently dabbing the stray droplets away, careful not to press too hard.

He really needed to invest in softer handcuffs, it’s just- those were the only ones he had, and he didn’t use them often. Besides, it never got this bad before. But that wasn’t a good excuse.

He’d have to order some online tomorrow..

Applying more ointment around the area, the kind that offers instant relief, he wraps your smaller wrists up as best he could, cringing himself whenever you’d flinch.

He’d make it up to you.. Pancakes in the morning, perhaps?

Izuku then begins to sluggishly put away everything he brought out of the cabinet, tossing what needed to be tossed into the trashcan.

He was slow, almost as if he was trying to keep his balance, which he no doubt was. 

Standing in front of you once again, he wrapped his arms around you, whispering “up” in your ear.

It was something he would always say when he wanted you to wrap your arms and legs around him so he could carry you like a baby.

But who were you to refuse?

It wasn’t as if he couldnt pick you up without your limbs wrapped around him, it was more for your comfort rather than his convenience.

So, tentatively, you wrapped your still shaking arms around his neck, doing the same with your legs around his bent waist.

“Good girl.” he praised as he began walking back into the bedroom, stopping just at your side of the bed to place you down at the edge.

Numbly, you let him remove your rain-soaked clothes from all the hugging, sitting on the bed in just your panties as you watched him toss the clothes in the hamper by the door

It wasn’t the first time he insisted on treating you like a child who needed help changing, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

It was hard to remember if it was a good or a bad thing that you didn’t care about being nude in front of him anymore, not even bothering to hide your chest as he came back over with a fresh set of clothes - the strawberry patterned pajamas he always seemed to adore you wearing.

You always looked so innocent in them. The shirt is far too large for your frame, the sleeves hanging off your hands and the large v-neck exposing your collar bones and parts of your shoulders. The bottoms were the regular run of the mill pajama pants, soft as cotton and comfy as hell.

The top truly was the part of the look that tied it all together.

He couldn’t help but smile as your arms immediately raised as he pulled the shirt out of the pile, making quick work of slipping it over your cute head and helping your arms into the sleeves.

He liked to take care of you.

You needed him to, after all.

You were his innocent, helpless little darling, after all.

Pulling your pants up, he guided your body down into a resting position, dragging the thick, grey, and black patterned comforter over your stilled body.

Such a good girl.

He tucks loose strands of messy (H/C) hair that fell across your face behind your ear, being mindful of the wound.

He stares at it for a moment, his expression holding that of worry and regret.

Pushing off the bed, he stumbles his way to the kitchen in the dark, having turned off the light as he went, the layout of the apartment burned to memory so he could easily avoid furniture.

In the kitchen, he opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, one he would commonly use on his own sore muscles and bruises. It hurt his heart knowing he was the reason you had to use it for the first time.

After wrapping it in some paper towels, he trudges his way back into the dark bedroom, eyes wracking over your balled up form, covers bunched over you like a shell.

“Put this on your cheek..” he whispered, placing the pack just in front of your face.

He would love to be the one to hold it to your cheek, but his mind was still hazy, and his words were still slurred. Events could sure as hell sober you up a bit, but damn did that nausea always come back crashing in through the brittle window full force when you’d least expect it.

Rummaging through the drawers once more, he picked up some of his own fresh clothes and made his way into the bathroom again.

All he wants is to sleep, but he also didnt want you to smell dried sweat and rain on his being throughout the night.

He knew you missed him, him and his warmth, you always did, right? No question about it. You must be longing for him even now. 

Wanting him to hold and comfort you just like always.

Numbed adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away his filth and regrets.

God, it felt so good to be able to somewhere warm for once.

The entire night he’s felt nothing but cold.

Not even the fire in his belly or the breath stolen from his lungs could’ve warmed him up.

He was mad at himself. Mad that he lost control and hurt the one thing that mattered the most to him.

Mad that he let himself get disgustingly drunk.

Mad that he walked in the rain like a dumbass just to soak your clothes and make you feel as cold as him.

But at the moment, too many thoughts were flying in his mind for him to properly think, no, he couldnt really even say he was thinking at all.

He was just letting the water splatter on the back of his neck, forehead resting on the cold shower tiles and he watched as water swirled down the drain like a whirlpool. His hair stuck to his cheeks like glue, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brush across the fresh scar on his broad shoulder.

He swore the longer he stood there, watching the clear flow of water, the looser his grip on himself became.

He couldnt really say he felt anything at all anymore.

When did he lose himself?

Was he ever even really found?

Ah.

With you.

You were the missing piece in his complicated and skull biting puzzle, the one who made him whole and lit up his dull life. You were the reason he felt things anymore, you were the reason he still managed to get up and save people with a clear conscious.

You always had such a positive impact on his life, and he knew he had just as good a one on yours.

A wobbly smile tore his flushed face in two, you both really did need eachother.

He was so happy to have you in his life.

Knowing you’d never leave him.

Turning the boiling hot water off, he stepped out, the plushness of the bath-mat embracing his wet feet as water continued to pour down his nude body.

It felt, it felt so hot suddenly.

His breath came out in exaggerated pants, hands sweeping his hair from his face as the burn of bile rose in his throat.

Lunging for the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the glistening white bowl.

Gasping for air, Izuku whipped his mouth on the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath as he fumbled to flush.

God, he needed to sit down.

Shakily turning the bathroom faucet on, he washed his hand, making quick work of brushing his teeth before lazily drying himself off.

Ignoring the other clothes he brought in, the toned hero simply pulled on a pair of black boxers before walking out of the bathroom.

Green eyes immediately looked at your form, just to see the soft rise and fall of your chest as you soundly slept, the ice pack sitting comfortably on your cheek.

You looked so adorable.

You always did.

Smiling once more, he walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets just to slide his larger, warm body in and next to your own.

He sighs blissfully the moment he tugs you into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of your soft body against him.

Removing the icepack from your cheek, not wanting you to awake to a cheek burning from the cold, he places it on the nightstand before snuggling closer to you.

You always fit so perfectly in his big arms.

You were meant to be by his side.

And you loved it, didn’t you?

Eventually, he fell asleep, soft snores echoing around the quiet room filled with the downpour of rain still pouring down outside the large glass windows,

But you were still wide awake.

It was hard to remember the last time you got a good night’s rest, especially when the room was spine-chillingly dark..

Hard to remember what life was like before you even met your own personal nightmare.

You were used to the exhaustion, the dark circles kissing at the skin under your eyes becoming normal the day you were brought here.

Oh, how foolish you were.

You should have locked your window that fateful night.

But heroes are quite stealthy, aren’t they?

Was this even reality at this point? Or all just a figment of your imagination, protecting you from the true horrors before your very eyes.

Either answer wasnt one you wanted.

But you never had a choice.

Tears slipping from your eyes like they always seemed to do, you stared longingly off into the distance, the warmth pressed against your back pulling you further into your own bubbling madness.

All it took was a signal thought for this to all become normal.

For the pain to wash away with your tears.

‘Maybe this is ok.’