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syluses · 2 months ago

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HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS

𓍯𓂃 PART ONE (1) of the stepdad! sylus x reader series

(1) PILOT

𓍯𓂃 CONTENT: stepdad! sylus therefore step/pseudocest, eventual smut, nsfw, dubcon, slowburn, yandere undertones, all characters are 18+ (mc is presently 23; sylus is in early forties), possessive & yandere behaviors, age difference, daddy kink, unreliable narrator, drinking, non-evol au, modern au, lowkey enemies to lovers, lots of (sexual) tension, loss of virginity, emotional breakdowns, some angst, some fluff, a lil bit of everything; tags will be added as story progresses— but know the story is relatively triggering. [art credit: @/chimmyming on twitter/X]

𓍯𓂃 SIDENOTE: the first part of the series :] ima also post this on ao3 as well so if u wanna read it there, u absolutely can <3 reblogs, likes, & comments are all very appreciated u know the deal ✨ hope you’ll enjoy this lil series my friends 🫰 also to my raf & caleb girlies fear not i will still occasionally post oneshots in between chapters for yall :] this series will start off a lil slow ofc but i promise im so excited to show yall the rest 😫 also i think i got everyone on the taglist!! & if u wanna be added just ask C:

taglist: @leftpoetrymoon @valhalla-soulstealer @gingybimby @crowsandapples @novthirty @mcdepressed290 @jadeloverxd @satansdaughter123 @blitziwitch @luminaaaz @eialovescats @noliniodeaes @dramaticalsachan @loudhologramturtle @softiepeachess

In the night, the lights by the tarmac glitter like firelies.

Or stars: he closes his eyes and still sees the constellations there as lustering blurs, strewn along one another.

It’s beautiful.

The heel of his shoe scrapes the pavement like there’s something to be anticipated. The leather upper of it crinkles.

The evening is cold, crisp. He blows out a soft breath that shakes as it goes. Turns into vapor. Early December brings a chill not entirely comfortable, but Sylus doesn’t mind the thicker, cloudy skies one bit, or the gentle haze it drapes across the sun during daytime.

One thing’s on his mind. One thing only.

Propped against his car, hands stuffed in his pockets idly, Sylus tips his chin back. Overhead, your plane dips— a flashing set of red beams in the vast swath of darkness— the only one in the sky. Sylus watches it as it lands.

He lifts off from the car, then, and fully aware that the disembark will take some time, the sorting of the luggage and then the weaving between people and aisles to get to the front- where he’ll be waiting for you- minutes early, he goes to head in anyway.

You’ve come home.

✦

When you first spot him in the entrance, in a flurry of people bundled in coats- each from a different place but the same awed look as they watch the escalators- you’re almost stunned to see that same wide-eyed look on him, too. It… doesn’t quite suit him.

You note the absence of the twins with nothing beyond a small frown, albeit you’re internally glad for the reprieve- God knows you’re not capable of humoring three men in the state you’re in- but wonder why they chose not to come with their father to pick you up.

You wonder if it was their choice to begin with.

…But then again, you can appreciate the silence the lack of them brings. Between the boys and their father, you always got along a whit better with them despite their antics. Although… that makes it sound like you got along with Sylus to begin with. The truth suggests otherwise.

It’s also true that the truth has blurred somewhat while you’ve been gone.

Now that you’ve come back (temporarily; this isn’t a permanent arrangement- what it was before) you’re not so sure how these two weeks with your stepfamily will carry. Luke and Kieran were marginally easier to warm up to- though that was a chore in itself- but it’s always been a bit different with Sylus.

You’ve, always been a bit different with Sylus.

Estranged, but not... Cold as ice- but like a berg you’ve always got the implicit feeling that he could see everything below your waters.

It… unnerved you. Did all sorts of things to you, really, but that’s besides the point. For this small, temporary visit, it has to be.

For this trip, for the circumstances under which you’ve been summoned to Linkon, you’ll put all of your personal feelings (discomfort, bitterness- betrayal, even) aside.

You’re no longer a teenager balling her fists when things don’t go her way, stomping off to her room as a retreat- praying no one will follow but also praying they’ll care enough to come knocking later. And you’re no longer the woman you were almost seven months ago, the last time you visited. No, since then, you’re just a touch lonelier, although you’ll be hard-pressed to admit it aloud, and it softens some of your edge.

But for the sake of your coming here, you’ll put a lid on it all. The instability. The hurt. The…

“Sweetie, hey- Are… Are you able to talk? It’s…” A sigh on his end. “Important. I wouldn’t have pestered you otherwise.” You picture him with furrowed brows and minimize your distant persona as a streak of concern dashes through.

“Uh, yeah… I’m able. What is it?” To the point. No time wasted, no feelings worn. You want to be as bad-mannered as he’ll ever remember you. Unfriendly and unforthcoming— not that he’s ever been one to pale at the challenge that is loving you.

“I… have some news. Not the good kind. Find somewhere to sit down and breathe.”

Breathe.

He did say that: you remember, now. But at the time it all smeared together, all the seconds and minutes that you’d sat there hyperventilating.

The air outside is crisp. You inwardly curse yourself for packing your jacket; otherwise, you’d be putting it on now.

Stepping off the flight, you were shaky. A little strung out- as restless as you were fatigued. The bag you carry is heavy and requires you to constantly readjust it, but although Sylus is upright at your side and eager to take it off your hands, you wave him off.

“I-It’s fine.”

It’s not. None of this is, not really.

…But you came.

You wouldn’t miss it. Couldn’t forgive yourself if you did.

Overhead, the Ursa Major and Minor sit apart and form ladles. They fade in and out of view behind drifting clouds, hiding with other scattered, coruscating stars. You’re sure they have names, but you don’t know them.

He leads you to the car, but doesn’t leave your side to walk ahead. As he does, you can’t find it in you to stop yourself from slowly relaxing in his presence. Oh, you’ve never liked it, per se, but this truth is as obvious as it is embarrassing on your end: You feel safe in it.

He’d never hurt you. You know that.

…Yeah fine, he has the role of ‘paternal’ nailed to a fucking T, sure, but you’ll always believe it was meant solely for the twins— not for you. That will never change.

Because you already had someone who covered for you, in that regard.

Maybe your mother was easy to give him up, but you were different. And perhaps she’d gushed at the wedding ceremony and doted all over the big glittering rock on her finger and the opportunity to call another man her husband—

But you’d never call another man your father.

…You suppose even interlopers have a seat at the family dining table, though.

And you know Sylus, you do.

He’s familiar: from his rich, bergamot scent that’s meant to disarm with its sweeter vanilla undertones, to his resounding voice that always dips a suspicious octave when he addresses you (uncommon as that is when he’s feeling masochistic)- gentler compared to when he speaks to the twins— hell, even the way he moves. It all screams comfort, if only because you’re so used to it by now.

When you cross the street, you’re so tired you don’t even look both ways. You let him do it for you- and with pleasure he does, broad shoulder brushing you as he hovers a weightless hand at the small of your back, herding you carefully alongside him.

Coming off the plane, you’re positively exhausted. For so many reasons, you’re aching to throw yourself into bed and sleep away your last handful of hours spent traveling. In particular, the reason behind them.

…But you don’t want to think about that now, especially with him here. Even if that’s the elephant in the room you choose to ignore as you drag across the busy but quiet parking lot and struggle to keep ahold of your luggage.

When the heavy clasp starts to slip off your shoulder for the umpteenth time, and you’re sore and your jelly arms can’t hope to adjust it, Sylus swiftly reaching out to take it from you— you actually let him.

Everything is silent. The night carries but without a word.

The late night, wintry air and the massive parking lot stretching around you holds a certain peace in it. The thud of shoes over cement is hushed and the small clusters of people dotted under the overhang gather mutely, like they, too (just like the silver-haired man at your side, stealing glances you try not to notice) don’t want to get on your nerves.

You’ll make this work, somehow. Fourteen days, give or take— and then you’re free to go and cope with this in your own way, however ugly that may look.

Your own breaths are slow and uneven, but gentle all the same; for all your fatigue, you’re a little surprised that you take a moment to look up at the stars and admire the view, hands tucked under your armpits as Sylus rounds the car to the trunk.

Should’ve brought your jacket, you think for the second time, and look forward to the warmth his passenger seat has to offer.

You’re so drowsy and lost in the smoky, faintly spangling sky overhead that you don’t really notice the thunk of the back of the car or the figure that pulls to your side, lingering with you for a few seconds with mist for breath.

It recycles itself fast. Too fast, maybe... But you ignore that, too. Sometimes that’s your best course of action, you think- pretending that what’s there isn’t.

He hesitates before following your gaze, looking up to the hazy sky.

You vaguely wonder where he came from before picking you up; what fancy outing called for a sleek leather jacket and tailored, black jeans, the expensive, yet fine chain around his neck— his attire casually oozing refinement. What or who he’s dressed for. Too low-key to be a business meeting,… but too put-together to be loungewear.

Classy. But not trying too hard.

For a second, eyes flitting down to his chest thoughtfully, you wonder if he’s met with an old friend- before dashing the humorous idea to bits. He’s always been something of a lone wolf.

His voice is cashmere-soft when he speaks. “Are you ready?”

There’s so much he wants to say- to do- but he’s barring himself off from being too doting, too greedy. Each time you’ve come back to visit in the past five years since your moving out, sparse as those occasions are growing to be (not a fact he smiles upon), Sylus thinks you’ve mellowed out a bit, that you’ve lowered a wall to him— even if by a few inches. But he still wants to play it safe.

He thinks of game nights with the twins and your mother, uno cards and monopoly and a Jenga tower stacked meticulously upon the table— how one wrong move, the slightest brush of the finger, can send the blocks in a fray— and restrains himself.

For as good as he is at upsetting you, that’s never once been his aim.

…Yet you’re more at ease, tonight. If he had a few drinks in him, he might even venture to say docile.

It warms his chest as much as it squeezes it, a rankling wound with a persistent, cloying ache.

“Sweetie?”

You don’t look over to him, but you give a nod and let him carefully close the passenger door behind you.

The airport, with all its late night, hushed bustle and its strange, fairy light-like serenity, disappears into a speck.

In two weeks or so, you remind yourself, you’ll be back.

✦

The light from the streetlamps cuts up her face in subsequent flashes. It limns her with slate.

Sylus, unable to keep from glancing off the road every so often to give a cursory glance- the knowing that he needs to pay attention made a smaller thing with her right beside him- doesn’t see the harsh fluorescence, though, but silver.

She’s home. And it’s all he can think. Whether it was by her own volition or otherwise, under pleasant circumstances or not— she’s come back.

That means everything to him.

I mean— not that it’d be easy to— but there’s about a million things he wants to say.

That he’s missed her, for one. That it’s been a long time but all of it spent apart has done her better than it has him: she looks surprisingly well, all things considered. He hopes the darkness succeeds in masking some of the things he wears on his own face- the restless nights and the ‘why’ factor behind them, mostly.

But perhaps above all, Sylus wants to tell her that he loves her. That after everything that’s happened- the recent events and then the downright depressing phone call he had to make to her revolving them- he’s there for her. Whether she holds even half the bitterness she had for him years ago or still has her foot sticking out in the metaphorical doorframe of his life— it doesn’t change his availability when it comes to her.

He’s always had tough skin, but after living under the same roof as her for those couple years (a learning experience, to put it nicely), close to nothing can pierce through.

Except… Well.

Except her.

He swallows and looks out to the road.

Shadows eat at his periphery, blocks of yellow paint blurring in tandem. Outside the beam of the headlights, a vignette pours in.

On the drive in, he had some song playing on the radio- a poppy one, much too erratic for his liking, but to be fair, it did a good enough job at distracting him as his thoughts raced- but on the way back, he’s turned it off. Tells himself it’s to give the poor girl some peace and quiet— and that much is true, but it’s not the whole reason.

Sylus just has a little more trouble admitting he likes to hear the sound of her breaths, soft and even, as they occasionally cut back at the silence- and on paper it does sound bad.

He’s not like this with Luke, or Kieran. Helicopter parent taken to the max. Hanging on each word they say, every little move they make, internally grappling to piece together the why behind every seemingly trivial thing they do. Squinting at them through a crosshair but with his trigger on safety.

It’s just— his nerves are alight, okay? With her it’s all different.

Sylus can’t put a name to every emotion that flickers in him. Sometimes they pass like comets through his being, fast enough to blur by, but still hot enough to leave an impression— but for as compulsive as his thoughts around her are- as bad as it may seem- they’re not… nefarious. He cares for her an impossible amount, and yeah maybe he dwells on the idea of his stubborn, wayward stepdaughter a smidge often but it’s warranted. And it’s morally green in nature— she knows that, too.

So he can’t figure out for the life of him why some little bug in the back of his subconscious wants to flame him for it.

In any case. Sylus lets out a sigh, too soft to be heard, and spares a short glance her way, the corner of his lip quirking ever so slightly.

She’s come home.

And he’s thrilled- a little too fucking thrilled- but he knows she doesn’t do well with the doting so he tries his damnedest to keep it simple. She doesn’t like platitudes or small talk, oh, he learned that the hard way, but he also knows that she’d prefer it over the love bombing so that’s exactly what he settles on for the sake of lifting the somewhat dreary mood of the car.

…Hesitantly. “How was the flight?”

He wants to call her kitten but barely keeps off it. He wants to make his affection known but doesn’t want to upset her; he’s not exactly a man used to walking on eggshells, but he is the kind to make a sacrifice where the situation- the stakes- call for it.

To be clear, she- everything about her- calls for it.

Her response, placid from the standard wear and tear of traveling (but not entirely mean, not like she so often is) evens him out. Or maybe it excites him more, he doesn’t know.

“It… was okay,” she murmurs. “Good. The fanciest plane I’ve ever been on.”

Because up until now, she’s always made the long drive, refused the plane tickets he threw her way free of charge.

For whatever reason, he laughs at that, deep and hearty, like she’s told a good joke. She rarely ever sees him exhibit that sort of behavior even with his sons (albeit, most of the time, the twins are comedians only to each other), so she doesn’t really know what to take him for when he lilts in a pleasant tone, “Yeah? Good. I’m curious,” he adds with a slight dip of his chin her way, “Did they serve you anything?”

They did, actually. One of her favorite dishes. Which… was very convenient, but she didn’t really have the appetite.

“T-They offered,” she murmurs back, just a bit flustered.

I mean, look: she doesn’t particularly fancy the guy, okay? Nothing between them’s really changed since some years ago when she finally scraped up enough money to move out. At least, she tells herself so.

They go together about as well as oil and water. It’s just how it is.

…Perhaps it’s not entirely fair to Sylus to put so much blame on him, she’ll concede that much, but she can’t overturn the wedding, the uprooting of her and her mother from their small, beloved home in favor of a mammoth, modern estate- the way she was all but forced to leave her true father behind in the dust.

After enduring all that as a sixteen year old kid? sometimes it feels like a big ask for her to even act polite.

She will be… tame, though, in these two weeks.

“But I wasn’t really hungry.” Right then- embarrassingly loud- her belly gives a growl.

She shuts her eyes and prays the low purr of the tires over cement are enough to convince the silver-haired man beside her of her innocence- but to her slight horror, he just gives another soft chuckle.

Not deprecating by any means. Maybe she’d have preferred it that way, though, over the fond undertone in his voice- as subtle as it is uncomfortable for her to hear.

“No? I wouldn’t have guessed. Once we… get home,” he decides carefully, “I’ll have the chef make something for you. Would you like that?”

“It’s- It’s fine, thanks. I’m… I’m tired.”

“Ah,” he says as if ashamed, looking back on ahead at the road. “Why don’t you close your eyes and rest? I’m sure that the late night… ambiance will help you fall asleep.”

But she doesn’t want to, not in front of him.

It’s less out of not trusting him and more out of the fact that she doesn’t want him to take it as a sign that she so clearly does.

She’s always been stubborn.

And Sylus has always been patient with her, a trying man.

She doesn’t want to fall asleep here, to ‘turn her back to him’ in the more primeval sense, yet his voice is gentle,.. and the night is too, with its occasional groans of the engine and the silence that drones on in between.

She holds her eyelids open for as long as she can, but they want to droop.

On the plane, shot nerves and all, she was able to fight it off because that’s just what she does— she’s good at that- resisting. (And damn it all if the people directly involved in her life aren’t well acquainted with that simple fact by now.)

But now, she’s hanging on by a string. Her fiery spirit tires herself out.

She doesn’t like that his voice, all rich and throaty, every bit calming (albeit most of everyone else couldn’t say the same about it), is just like a lullaby. Like lyrics; simply set to the hum of tires as they roll over shadowy Linkon roads. The cadence they make is a languishing one.

And they slowly drift shut, her eyes. She inwardly tells herself that she’ll open them back up in a second; that she’s just resting them for a moment, but she’ll keep her ears open, her senses alert, her guard up—

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, “Rest.”

And oh, isn’t he good at that…?

Isn’t he convincing?

“I’ll wake you once we’re home.”

✦

He doesn’t.

No- contrary to his word, what you wake to instead is sunlight through sheer lace curtains and the foggy realization that you are not in the plane- or more recently, Sylus’s car. But what you slowly comprehend to be your bedroom.

Your surroundings prove to be… familiar: you catalogue them all as your mind lags a few seconds behind your eyes.

From a memory foam bed, you take in the cute frilly lampshade at your side (a little garish, yes, but it’s always lasted you), the floral quilt you’re comfortably tucked in and the posters strewn along your walls- cheap pops of color to enliven a lavish grey canvas.

When you moved into this room, sixteen years old and bitter- sixteen years old and hurting- you remember finding some joy in decorating your new, yet very much unwanted room with hot guys from vampire shows and wooden figurines your late father carved for you.

Right now, though, you don’t dwell so much on the wave of nostalgia that hits you as the confusion.

The door’s closed- which brings a small peace to your otherwise frazzled heart as you gradually come to. You take note of that and relax a little. You’re alone, and the home (a funny word when taking the sheer size of it into consideration; the too many rooms for the number of people it holds, the general lack of warmth) is quiet.

Tranquil, even, despite the lazy sort of bewilderment that notches your brow.

Did… Did he carry you in? But when…?

No, you let your eyes flutter shut and groggily plop your head back down. You pull an old stuffie closer and hold onto it, sighing out all your memory of the night prior as you bundle up again, ignoring the red lines of your digital alarm clock that tell you morning has long encroached on noon.

No, whether or not he carried you in- or maybe the twins, excitedly piling out the door as soon as Sylus appeared with your luggage in tow— doesn’t matter. All the events of yesterday, the stressful morning of packing and boarding, then the night which he stole after months of not seeing him- that fucking fond, almost breathless look he gave you as you stepped off the escalator—

None of it matters.

You don’t want it to.

✦

It’s almost 2 o’clock when you’re unpacking your bag and laying its contents out on the bed- still having not extricated yourself from the comfort of your room- when you hear commotion outside your door.

Ever so subtle but oh, you’ve grown the ear for it.

Your shoulders give a start at it.

“….think she’s still asleep?”

Then, they slump over and you sigh, hardly sparing a glance behind you.

“…I don’t know, bro, but the food dad left out for her is way too cold so I think we should just…”

The twins, no doubt, gumshoeing in the hallway, believing they’re sneakier than they really are as they press their ears to your wall, prying for information or- considering you’ve yet to visit the lower level or even the hallway- a sign of life.

Evidently, they’re not half the part of the secret agents they’d probably like to think.

…And you should be annoyed, you know. The bothersome pair of stepbrothers is lingering outside your bedroom under the illusion of secrecy and awaiting your next- your first- move since arrival: and it’s irksome. It’s not a hard invasion of your privacy, but it’s a nigh thing, and they’re well aware you don’t like all the breathing over your shoulder. That’s a fact that hasn’t changed since your teen years.

So the streak of endearment that comes, carving the smallest of smiles into your lips, is confusing to say the least, but you give in to it anyway.

Bed-head, dried drool at the corner of your mouth and all, you tiptoe over and open the door in a gust.

Luke and Kieran fall over and through like dominos.

Cursing, they climb to their feet and attempt to play it off. “Oh, hey sis—” (that’s Luke) “Oh, sis- good morning”— (and then Kieran) but you know better than to fall for their antics as they straighten out and cough up their excuses.

You also know better than to take any real offense to them; you suppose the seven or so years spent having to humor them will toughen up a person. It did you, anyway.

You cross your arms and let out a huff. “Boys,” you say in lieu of a real greeting.

And the whole scenario is distinctly familiar, like a memory reopened: their tumbling into you, your waking up in a too-big home and just praying the day will pass with as little contact with the big man as possible. You’re almost kind of stunned for a moment because it feels as if you never left this place to begin with.

As they rub the back of their necks and look sheepish, it’s hard to miss the interest in their eyes as they take you in- or the twinkle of excitement.

You wonder what they see as you stand there. If it’s the extra inches of your hair (mussed from sleep, a surprisingly pleasant one might you add) and the small physical differences here and there that are almost too subtle to spot- or if their eyes are raking over all that’s familiar. The parts of you they’re used to. The pretty, yet sort of mellowed eyes, the tension in your posture that never quite rounds out- the lips you purse into a thin line the longer they stare unabashed.

Luke is the one to break the silence when you dip your chin out of self-consciousness, snapping out of his daze with a grin.

“Sis- so good to see you again!” You can tell he means it. Oh, between the beaming look on his face and his hands that just barely hold off on yanking you into a hug, it’s pretty clear that he’s positively alight at your impromptu visit. But as your chest warms through, the best response you settle on is another huff and a dart of your eyes you can only hope appears nonchalant. Because it’s hard sometimes, okay-? to acknowledge you care for the twins a concerning amount.

The day you first met them— and their grandiose, debonair father, ever the expert at rubbing you the wrong way: he’s not to be forgotten— you made a vow to yourself to never accept them. Your mother’s second marriage ceremony you grudgingly attended with a new dazzling dress be damned— you were not a Qin, and all the legal documents she signed off on could burn in hell for all you cared.

The twins might always be troublemakers first to most of everyone else, you think, but to you, they’re… they’re your boys. As weirdly charming as they are cunning.

“It’s… good to see you, too, I guess,” you mumble.

They catch the tail end of your smile though as you try and fail to hide it with your hand, and it’s Kieran who ends up most emboldened by it.

Taking that first step forward, he wraps his arms around you in a brusque but warm hug before you can protest against it.

“Oh, c’mon, you know you missed us!”

In the next heartbeat, his brother joins, laughing at your ear as he slings an arm around you, pulling you from a clingy Kieran- albeit with some difficulty.

“How have you been? You know, we were waiting all morning to see you- we were so excited- but you’ve been a sleepyhead… You can’t blame us for coming up to check on you, right?”

You heave a laugh. “Oh, is that what the locals here call spying now? Just ‘checking in’?”

A chuckle at your left- Kieran, with his hand now perched at your hip as the two quietly settle on anchoring you between them. “Oh, please. By twelve o’clock, we started thinking you had actually died in your sleep.”

You shove at his chest- a fruitless action- but can’t bite back your laugh in time.

“Being the good brothers we are,” Luke picks up the sentence, seamlessly finishing where he left off, “We came to make sure you were still breathing.”

Maybe it’s bad taste, morbidly bantering back and forth about their assuming you’ve succumbed to this or that in your slumber- considering recent events, the ones that summoned you here, it certainly doesn’t look good. But the grim undertone flies over their heads.

It flies over yours, too, for a few moments as Luke tries to gives you a noogie and Kieran murmurs something about you missing breakfast, tugging absently at the fabric of your shirt (the one you’ve still yet to change out of) while he talks. But then one of them mentions something about how the last time they saw you was Mother’s Day and you just—

The world hiccups. You blink and push at their chests, respectively elbowing them away and this time they listen.

Backing up a touch, the boys watch your face as it falls and it’s not too hard to put the unseen pieces together- the three braincells they share irrelevant.

For lack of distraction, you fiddle with the hem of your shirt- already wrinkled from where it was toyed with- and back up to sit on your bed. Your half-unpacked things surround you and remind you of your initial task, which supplies you with a convenient excuse for them to leave.

“I- I’m not done settling in yet.” You blurt as if that’s a good explanation for your mini outburst, not looking their way. Partly because you’re too busy trying to swallow down the rising lump in your throat; partly because you’re only so immune to the kicked-puppy look they both wear on their faces.

You don’t cry anymore. Especially not in front of your stepfamily. However, the pang of grief that swoops down and seizes you is strong enough to take your words for a moment.

Breathe.

You curl your five fingers into your palm, and as every unique ribbon of hurt comes to you, you let it all go in a breath.

(Breathe: ah, that’s right, you remember it now. It was Sylus’s words; it was the phone call half your brain- the side absolutely bent on protecting you- wanted you so badly to forget.)

The boys observe you warily as you slowly puff out.

After a few seconds pass, you’re decent enough to flash them a smile (a too-tight one, but you hope they catch the hint and leave while you’re still polite about the how you give it aspect) and look to the door behind them. “And, uh… I still need to shower and get changed and stuff. Maybe I’ll see you both later.”

“In an hour,” Luke suggests in a light tone. “Y-You should come down then, okay…?”

It shouldn’t surprise you that he’s purposefully being more gentle with you after realizing they’ve unwittingly hit a sore spot- for all their pranks, they’re not some unfeeling jerks after all, and you’ve always been an exception to their nonchalance- but it kind of does.

You look him over thoughtfully, wringing your hands in your lap.

It’s always felt like a chore to get them to behave. Whether it be sitting still in their seats during class and keeping their limbs away from your own workspace, or quite literally pulling the rug out from the asshole who ‘accidentally’ spilled wine on the front of your dress at a business get-together your mother hauled you into- for as long as time, the twins have held a reputation for two things:

Being troublemakers; and their father.

…You wonder if he’s the one who gave them a talking-to before your coming. If they’re a little more mindful of their manners because they’re nearing 23 and finally maturing or because Sylus sat them down beforehand with a stern look and said behave.

An hour, like Luke proposed, is plenty of time for you to wash up and get dressed. Your shampoo bottle is with the few toiletries you managed to stuff inside your bag- and clean clothes are already strewn along your fluffy comforters; you need forty minutes at tops to make yourself presentable.

…But that’s not really the issue. The reason why you’ve been stalling on going downstairs and revisiting the airy living room, the kitchen (with, apparently, your cold breakfast), the sunroom that you loved to escape to with books and a handmade sandwich— now too cold to sit out in, you’re sure.

An uneasy swallow. Eyes trailing down a lanky set of legs, they eventually land on the floor as you open your mouth.

“I mean- even after I wash up, I still want to unpack my stuff, and…” To the boys’ credit, they’re patient- but you try to find your words quickly. “I just-“

When Kieran makes an unimpressed noise, his sibling jabbing his side, you close your eyes and drop the charade entirely.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to see him right now, okay? I just… I’m not prepared to deal with him right now. That’s all.”

Your act was poor to begin with. Everybody and their mom (well.) knows you’re not on the best terms with your stepfather. That’s putting it lightly.

But you’re trying. Oh, for the sake of this depressing, loathsome trip, you’re trying to put aside your own reservations about him.

One crosses his arms and taps his foot. The other sighs softly.

It’s Kieran who comments, “you know, you’re the only one who can get away with talking about our old man like that… Like he’s an overgrown toddler.”

Funny, the both of your step-siblings. Right now, though, you don’t laugh.

“He won’t punish her for it, bro, you know that so just let her get it off her chest-“

He pointedly ignores him, pulling away from the hand that goes to nudge him, continuing, “But he’s not gonna bombard you with questions as soon as you go down the stairs or something… I mean, what’s the big deal anyway, Y/n? You saw him last night, didn’t you?” He asks. “Surely you squashed at least some of the beef with him-“

“It’s not just ‘beef’,” you snip back before resigning, “But… yeah, I mean- I did see him, obviously. But it was already late and I was tired. So… we didn’t really talk that much.”

Kieran blinks. Mulls over your words for all of three seconds before saying—

(And oh, damn it all if his brother doesn’t try to stop him, revving up an elbow to thrust straight into the pit of Kieran’s belly before his lips can get too loose.

…But Luke thinks that their own shortcomings, sometimes so preventable it’s painful- all their foolish slip-ups and fails- are just as unable to be helped as the sun rising every morning.)

“What? But dad said it actually went really well-“

“Bro! Shut up! Dad said not to tell her that stuff because it might make her slink back into her shell or whatever-!”

As the wave of confusion crests over you, and then something… else that puts a distinct awkwardness in the air as you digest their words, Kieran has the gull to look flustered as he unfolds his arms and stammers.

“Ah- W- shit, man,” he curses before glancing to you- slumped on your bed as if to disappear inside yourself, a whit embarrassed despite your indifferent facade- frowning. “Don’t tell dad I said that, okay?”

Luke, fairly innocent in it all, joins his cause and begins pleading, too. “Please, sis. He’ll get mad at us both... Just don’t tell him we told you any of this, okay?”

You heave a sigh, weighing your head in your hand. “Just- can you two leave? Please?”

“Pinky promise you won’t tell him first. Oh- and-,” he steps closer, bold but innocuous, and extends his finger with a hopeful twinkle in his eye. “Pinky promise you’ll be down soon, too. The three of us can have a late lunch, yeah? We really missed you, seriously.”

You’re afraid of that proposed three becoming an unwanted four, but you’re growingly reaching your limit with them both- your daily dose of the twins being literally fed through a needle into your veins- and you just want them to scurry out and go.

To that end, you twine your pinky with his- and then his just as eager brother’s- and nod. “Yeah, okay... Bye, now.”

“An hour,” they chirp in unison, heads peeking out from the door as it swings shut behind them.

“An hour, sis~! Don’t forget!”

Two weeks, you close your eyes and tell yourself, shoehorning each pesky feeling that squeezes in your chest before it finds the chance to erupt to the surface and bleed.

With a long, shallow breath out, you return to the pile of clothes, some folded, others strung out from your carelessness, and begin stuffing them in your otherwise empty drawers.

Two weeks until you attend your mother’s funeral, and then you’re free to go.

read chapter 2 here

#love and deepspace #sylus lads #sylus smut #sylus x you #sylus qin #sylus x mc #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #lads #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads x reader #lads smut #yandere #tw stepcest #heart wants what it wants #syluses

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adumbratrapedme · 6 months ago

Text

“Caught, Almost!”

Pairing: kenma x reader

Synopsis: you and kenma. needy. school grounds. almost caught. ok? ok.

Warnings: “public” sex, smut, +18, p in v, etc. idk im too lazy to properly tag this uhhh, is my first time writing smut cuz i usually get too nervous while writting it ngl (i take constructive criticism, sooo point out what i could do better. thank you!). nyan!

╭⋅Tbh not even you know how you guys enfed like this huh ╭⋅You where supossed to JUST GO AND FIND YOUR BOYFRIEND that was skipping practice (again) ╭⋅He was tired you know?? You guys just finished exam season and! He got a new game! Common!! Let my man rest!! ╭⋅Anyways, you didn’t care, sorry ken ken, disadvantages of having a manager gf unu ╭⋅So, tbh i would never take kenken as someone that has public sex? But i mean lets try to understand him ok? A full exam week, no gf, no kisses and the only opportunities you had to get together he got cockblocked! Wether it was his or you family ╭⋅When you finally find him sitting in his desk playing with the psp you try to pull him away but he does not comply! ╭⋅Until well… you get irritated and start saying that you’d do anything he wants!! ╭⋅So here we go :3

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Kenma~!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty halls as you searched for your elusive boyfriend. Frustration bubbled inside you, and just as you were about to give up, a familiar mop of pudding-colored hair caught your eye through the window of an empty classroom. “UGH! THERE YOU ARE!!” you huffed, storming into the room, Kenma flinched at your sudden outburst, his eyes still glued to his handheld console. "You're still looking for me? So... practice isn't over yet? Great..." he muttered under his breath, clearly bothered by the situation.

"Honeyyyy~" you groaned dramatically as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. He didn't budge, his fingers tapping away at the buttons, “keEeeEn~” you whined, playfully trying to push him out of the chair.

"Come on! Kuroo is going to kill me if I don't bring you back!"

Still no reaction.

You leaned in closer, pressing your cheek against his. "Do you really want your beaaauuutiful girlfriend to fail at her manager duties, huh?"

Kenma finally sighed, his gaze never leaving the screen. "

...If it means

you'll leave me alone, then... sure."

"UGH! Kenmaaaa!" you pouted, slumping dramatically in front of him.

Dropping to your knees and hugging his legs you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes. "Please?"

His fingers faltered for a second.

"You're so annoying.." he muttered, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After what felt like hours (okay, maybe just ten minutes) of begging and pressing Kenma to go to practice, you finally hit your limit. Refusing to stand from your spot on the floor, you crossed your arms and gave him your best fake teary eyes, complete with a trembling pout.

“Fine then… let them fire me from my manager position,” you huffed dramatically. Kenma finally glanced down at you, his expression flat. “Y/N… this isn’t a job. They won’t fire you.”

But then — ngh! — his gaze lingered. The sight of you sitting on the floor, all pouty and vulnerable? That triggered something in his brain.

Neurons? Activated.

Kenma? Horny

Y/n? Annoyed

Crops? Watered.

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he averted his gaze, but his voice softened. “But… maybe there’s something we can do… if you really want me to go back to practice.” Your eyes lit up. “YAS! I knew it!” You leapt from the floor, wrapping your arms around him in excitement. “Come on, tell me! I’ll do anything you want!”

Kenma blinked, momentarily stunned by your enthusiasm, before a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well… you know how we haven’t been able to spend much time together lately?” You nodded eagerly, not missing the way his voice dipped into a quieter tone.

“And how every time we try to be alone… someone interrupts us?” he added, glancing at you briefly before looking away again, the blush deepening.

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, heart thumping in anticipation. Kenma cleared his throat. “Well… maybe we can do it now.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait… here?” “The school’s practically empty,” he murmured, setting his PSP down on the desk. “Only a few clubs and… maybe a janitor. But if we’re careful…”

He finally looked back at you, and the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“You serious?” you whispered.

Kenma leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Only if you want to.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

So... in the end, you gave in—how could you possibly resist that pudding-colored mop of hair? And now, here you are, in this exact moment.

You're leaning over his desk, your hands pressing against the surface.

Honestly, you feel a little exposed. Your boyfriend's behind you, and you can feel his gaze, while all you can see is what's right in front of you. You feel his cold hand lift your skirt, the breeze of his breath hitting your core, making you shiver just a little..

"just look at this, huh kitten? i barely even told you what i wanted and you are this wet already?” he said as he pulled down at your underwear, “ so eager to please me huh?” He said leaning into you and giving your ear a few kitten licks.

"P-Please, Kenma," you whispered, a hint of shame in your voice. Doing this in school? It felt so forbidden, so sinful. But deep down, you couldn't deny it — you'd been waiting for this moment just as much as he had.

To be honest, Kenma had wanted to tease you a little longer, but even he couldn't hold back. After the past week of restraint, he was too pent up to keep it inside any longer.

"So whiny..." he murmured while placing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, while one of his hands ran down your shirt until he reached your breasts, the way he squeezed them was very rough, but it was the right one for that moment, his hand was massaging them and the other was busy unbuckling his belt.

"I'm sorry darling..." he whispered into your ear while holding his member with one hand and rubbing it against your entrance earning a soft moan from you "you know that normally I would go slowly but... I don't think there's enough time for that right now"

You nodded in agreement, eager to feel him inside you, you hadn't realized how much you needed this, how much you missed his hands, his kisses and his caresses...

Just when you were lost in your thoughts a sudden pressure at your entrance made you yelp, Kenma's hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulled you closer. His breathing was uneven, his gaze heavy with desire as he leaned in.

"Ahh... Y/N..." His voice came out low and hoarse, roughened by the tension building between you. He pushed in deeper, his movements purposeful, each one making you gasp as your body adjusted to him. "You're so tight... nghh..." The way he muttered it, half a groan and half a breathless confession, made your stomach flutter.

A whimper escaped you, soft and broken, your lower lip trembling as you tried to speak through the haze. "K-Kenma... it's so big, I-"

Before you could finish, he picked up his pace, each movement making you lose more control over your voice. You couldn't stop the sounds slipping from your lips, and just as quickly, he silenced you with a kiss - rough, needy, possessive. "I like you better when you just moan for me," he mumbled against your lips, his voice low and commanding.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, making you melt into his touch.

You could feel the tension in your body rising fast, and by the way Kenma gripped you, he could feel it too. The way you clenched around him made him groan softly, his head dropping to your shoulder as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving faint marks behind.

Normally, he would slow down - tease you, drag things out until you were begging for more. But this time, he couldn't hold back. His own release was close, and it showed in the way his thrusts grew more erratic, rocking the desk beneath you as he pushed deeper.

"Fuck... baby..." His voice was husky, strained, filled with urgency as he buried himself in you. "I'm really close..."

You couldn't hold back your own moans any longer. The intensity of his movements, the weight of his body against your back, the sound of his voice — it was all too much. You didn't care if anyone could hear, if anyone walked by. All that mattered was him.

Kenma's fingers tightened their grip on your hips, his forehead pressed to yours as he pushed you both toward the edge. His heart was racing, his breath ragged in your ear, and you could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter.

"Kenma... please." you whimpered, your voice trembling as you clung to him, your body shaking from the overwhelming sensation.

He groaned softly at the sound of his name falling from your lips, his movements never faltering. He could feel how close you were — he always knew your body better than you did.

And though his usual control would have him drawing things out, this time he couldn't stop. His release was so close, right there, and he didn't want to hold back.

Twenty minutes in, and he already had you falling apart twice. But still, he kept going, chasing that final high — for both of you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Kenma's forehead rested against your back, his breath hot and uneven as you both tried to steady yourselves.

His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns under your skirt, a stark contrast to the urgency from moments before. There was a softness in his gaze now, something tender beneath the layers of intensity that still lingered in the air between you.

"Are you okay?" he murmured quietly, his voice softer, more familiar. The concern in his tone made your heart ache in the best way, and you nodded, lips curling into a faint smile.

"I'm okay," you whispered, though your voice still trembled slightly from the aftershocks, your body now fully resting in the desk in a weak attempt of catching your breath.

Kenma's lips twitched into a small smile at your answer. He wasn't always great with words, but his actions said enough. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you before before turning you around, facing each other, his forehead brushing yours in a quiet moment of calm.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence was comfortable, filled only with the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint creak of the desk beneath you. His thumbs rubbed lazy circles over your skin, grounding both of you as you melted into each other. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" he asked after a moment, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. It wasn't like him to ask, but there was something different in the way he looked at you now — more vulnerable, more open.

You shook your head, cupping his face gently. "No... it was perfect," you said softly, and you meant it.

Kenma sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned into your touch.

His lips pressed a lingering kiss to your palm before he pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around you like he couldn't bear to let go just yet. "You make me feel things I never thought l'd want," he admitted quietly, his voice almost shy. "I've never... wanted someone like this before."

The honesty in his words made your chest tighten, and you couldn't help but smile as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered against his skin. "You don't have to be afraid of wanting me."

Kenma's arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His heart was pounding against yours, steady and strong.

What you both thought would be a peaceful moment didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped. For a brief second, you let yourselves forget that you were still on school grounds, thinking you could steal a quiet moment together. But reality quickly came crashing back in the form of a loud, obnoxious voice that both of you knew all too well.

"KENMAAAAAA... Y/N!" Kuroo’s voice echoed through the hallways, sharp and unmistakable as he called out for you two. It was impossible to ignore. You exchanged a glance, both of you groaning internally.

"Come on, Y/N, I trusted you!" Kuroo’s voice whined from further down the hall, his footsteps growing louder as he approached.

"Shit," Kenma muttered, clearly irritated. He quickly pulled away from you, his eyes darting around in panic. "We should hurry," he added, his tone serious now.

Both of you scrambled to adjust yourselves. Kenma straightened his uniform with a quick tug at his collar, while you did the same at your skirt. You couldn’t help but glance at Kenma, biting your lip in a mix of amusement and slight concern.

"Do I have sex hair?" you asked, half joking but also genuinely curious, Kenma paused for a split second, giving you a once-over before shrugging. "Hmm... maybe just a little," he said nonchalantly, brushing his fingers through your hair to tame it.

"Great," you muttered, pushing your hair back into place as the sound of Kuroo’s voice drew closer. You had to think fast before he found you both in the hallway, and judging by the way Kenma was glancing nervously in the direction of the noise, he was already calculating your next move.

You both braced yourselves for what would surely be an uncomfortable encounter, wondering if this "moment of peace" was truly ever meant to be.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #kenma kozume smut #haikyuu kenma kozume #haikyuu!! kenma kozume #haikyuu kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu!! kenma kozume x reader #smut #minors dni #thought up by rin #kenma #kenma smut

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bitchlessdino · 9 months ago

Text

stolen entries (m)

airing: fem!Reader x stalker!joshua

Genre: thriller, smut, stalking au

Word count: 10k

tags: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T FOLLOW IN THE READERS FOOTSTEPS AND STAY SAFE. rated R for life RUINING, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND READ WARNINGS TO AVOID ANY TRIGGERING SUBJECTS, stalking, wrong just very morally black!joshua, dark imagery including but not limited to: implied and mentions of murder/threat, mentions of manipulation, mentions of blood, window sex and implied fear of falling out, possessive!joshua, pet names (angel, darling, ect), hair pulling, spanking, blowjobs/cunnilingus with consumption, face fucking, degradation, praise kink

Summary: Diary entries of a man in love. Joshua knew he loved you the moment he laid his eyes on you and had to have you, even if it meant enduring the echoes of every intimate detail of every sexual encounter you’d had before him. But he knew you were worth the wait. He was worth the wait.

author note: thank you @diamonddaze01 @wongyuseokie @tomodachiii @miabebe for betareading! mental health is great thank you for asking, im really excited to have been working on this and everyone involved in betaing have been so incredibly helpful. i hope yall enjoy and thank you again for your patience. <3

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae

Entry #3 - November 30th: White suits you.

You look so perfect the way you do. Perfect in white. Perfect in lace. Perfect. Perfect. Forgive me, darling, for being redundant. But that’s all you look to me. Perfect.

What wasn’t perfect was who you had in your room.

How perfectly imperfect.

But what was perfect was those sounds. So lewd. So perfect. Decadent. Enchanting you are, my dear. I wish I had been the reason for those sounds, but for now, I can only live vicariously through November 30th. He will only be known as November 30th. He doesn't deserve a name.

But, in a way, I should thank him. He’s satiating you now. He’s getting you ready for me as I’m getting ready for you.

Be patient, my sweet.

Entry #15 - December 15th: You like how it hurts.

I don’t like this one. He’s rude. Doesn’t even open the door for you. Doesn’t say thank you or please when he asks for something. Just dumps you into bed like you’re a ragdoll.

For some reason, you like that. You like that it hurts. You like it so much you scream his name. I’m forced to learn it.

Seokmin.

Seokmin. Seokmin. Seokmin.

Awful name. Awful on the tongue. I’d be better on the tongue.

But instead, he’s striking you. And I see red. In more ways than one. And you should be in agony, and I’d rescue you. But you’re laughing. You’re begging for more. You’re not fighting him to stop. You enjoy it too much.

So I’m watching again. But I’m not gonna like it. I don't like him.

But you like it. That’s what matters. I despise December 15th—what he does to you, how much you like it, and how much I could do so much better.

Entry #32 - January 1st: You like to teach.

Happy New Year, darling. You started off with someone young. Someone talkative. An amateur. You’re drunk, however, so I'm sure you’ll regret it in the morning.

But for now, you’re enjoying yourself yet again, and by god is it messy. He’s very messy. He touches you like he’s never had experience before, and you let him. I should resent you, but in no way can. You’re precious. My experimental little darling. I’m addicted to you. I must have you, and neither this Chan, Seokmin, nor Jeonghan can stop me.

But for now, I'm grateful the boy cut it short. Like the late bloomer is. How incompetent. But you made it a teaching opportunity. You’re quite good at it. And you made the boy work to your advantage. That’s so sexy. So you. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re also clever. Just like I knew you’d be. January 1st is a good kid. But he should stay in his lane before I push him into one.

Entry #45 January 13th: Dirty talk is a must.

This one is rather peculiar. Overly confident. And rather…annoying. Like a puppy without a leash. Drunk on ego and hard liquor with names I don’t even bother to pronounce. He’s pretentious and it’s clear in the way he undresses himself for you.

He treats you like he’s the only man in the world, and you’re simply beneath him, but I know you’re so much more. Yet, you encourage it. You encourage his… delusion that he’s this outstanding work of art.

You love how he narrates, how he talks to you as if you’re incompetent—degrading even—and you egg him on. “Good girl” this, “bad slut” that. It’s contradictory, but you enjoy it nonetheless. You get off on such obscenity. You’re euphoric from it. Although I hate to do such a thing and call you rancid names, I’ll have to ponder more creative versions.

Nonetheless, you like a bit of chatter, don’t you? Well, January 13th will have nothing on me, my little Angel.

Entry #78 - February 15th: You can keep going until you’re in ruin.

You’ve had a lonely month, and I do apologize, my darling, especially since it’s partially my fault. It is not my time just yet to have you. I must discipline myself first. Condition myself to cater to your every whim. And you have a lot of them.

You’re greedy. This one was utterly restless, I almost felt bad. His stamina had nothing on yours, darling, and I see that you can bite more than you can chew. You’re insatiable. I lost track of the hours that night. My knees, scraped raw and red against the rough concrete floor, as I stayed hidden in the shadows, waiting for you to finish, which you did. Again. Again. Again. Again.

I was starting to abhor this February 15th. What country did he save in his past life that earned him such devoted attention? Was he just that amazing? Did he make you 1000% satisfied? Would I have to kill him for that kind of love? Skin him and string him up like Christmas lights? It would be nice to prepare for the holidays early, wouldn’t it?

I’ll refrain for now. For your sake. But to keep up with you, my condition needs to multiply tenfold. I need to be able to be ready. Do what I need to to make indubitably and utterly mine.

M I N E.

Entry # 124 - April 1st: Toys are for adults too.

The joke was on me thinking you’ve changed your ways. Making love, or should I say primal sex, seemed to be something in the back of your head, but that wasn’t the case.

Instead, you fucked someone. A comedian nonetheless, and after he had finished his stand-up. You sat your pretty ass on the stool beside him, twirling your pretty strands of hair, batting your pretty lashes on that pretty face of yours. Just because it was April Fool's day doesn't mean you had to be the fool, my love. That was reckless.

But I suppose I learned something about you. Something you like in bed that you haven’t exhibited in others is that although you love a good laugh, it wasn’t fit for the bedroom. Sometimes, toys aren’t just a trickster's accessory but a vixen’s too. They are just simply different. Distinctly different.

Though a comedian’s job is to speak, you had him—well—gagged. Ball-gagged, no less. That was... intriguing. Enticing, to say the least, and you turned the whole performance into something far more captivating. There’s always something new I’m learning about you, love. And I can’t wait to show you what I’m capable of when I finally get my hands on you—and your toys.

Entry # 200 - June 14th: You could do it anywhere.

Keeping up with your summer antics wasn’t easy. Considering every precaution I’ve taken and every obstacle I’ve faced, I did everything from double-checking flight numbers to calculating the perfect distance to stay hidden. If only you could appreciate my efforts, love. I had to make sure my hiding place remained undetected—always just far enough to stay out of sight, but close enough to ensure your safety.

And while I thought a vacation with your family was the last place you’d do looking, you wound up somehow in your brother’s best friend’s bed. Seungcheol, was it? You really have no fear, do you? All while your family was all downstairs, you were getting your desserts while everyone was preparing for dinner, wondering where you were.

Or when it was time to go down by the beach and you had a little adventure in the dressing room of ‘Martha’s Swimsuit Boutique.’ The employees blamed the sounds on the old building fixtures or whatever was happening next door, but I knew what was happening in there. Hell, every person with working ears knew what was happening in there.

Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to forget you, to stop loving you, to forget you and how much you’ve hurt me. But I can't. No matter how much I want to or how many times I try, you're in my blood now. You're in my head, under my skin, and I can't rip you out. I don’t even want to.

You’re a part of me I can’t remove, like a vital organ. I just want you. I need you. I breathe you. If you want to do so much, I would take you right there on the dining table and wouldn’t care who watched, just to please you. Feel, taste, pound every part of you, from the red in your veins to cum that would flood in between my gums.

I D O N T K N O W H O W M U C H L O N G E R I C A N W A I T.

Entry # 237 - July 20th: At the end of the day, you want love too.

There’s no need to cry. He was never meant to have you is all. I must commend your brother. He beat that boy harder than I expected him to, but then again I would do a lot worse.

He didn’t deserve to have your heart. He was an idiot. I would never be like him. And you’ll realize that soon enough.

I would show you so much more. I can be so much more. I am so much more. My darling, I would travel to the next galaxy to have you, give you all that you desire, and make it so that the only tears you shed are the ones in bed when I prove to you how much you’re mine as much as I am yours.

Entry # 242 - July 25th: Today is the day.

Preemptively, I decided to go with a scent you’re familiar with. You've held out for weeks, even months, since your miraculous escape on July 20th. You’re stronger now, more confident, self-assured. very mindful, very demure. I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist saying it—just like you’ve repeated since locking yourself away. It’s cute, really. This whole ‘recovery’ thing, it suits you.

It’s like you were made to pique my interest and appetite. Even right now, as you’re outside the window of this restaurant, unsure if you want to enter because this was the one you’d frequent so often with him. Your favorite place to be since you were a little one.

I still can’t believe you decided to move back home. As if he hadn’t hurt you enough, you breathe the air he does? Watching him engage with the pretty blonde on his arm will not heal you, my sweet Angel. It is wrecking you. You should’ve left when you had planned to then.

I picked up my life and ran after you because I worried so much. I worried what would happen if I weren’t around to be with you. To make sure you’re okay. But I won’t have to anymore.

Today, I pretended to pick up a book you dropped to make eye contact with you, slipping a secret message I left on a Post-it inside. I hope you read it. I hope you reciprocate. And if you don’t, it had been all for nothing.

I’d be nothing.

Entry # 243 - July 26th: I love you.

You answered back, just like I thought you would.

“Hi :)” you said, with that cute emoji thing you do. How adorable.

For a moment I was worried, you wouldn’t but only a moment I promise. I would never doubt you. I have entire faith in you, you’d realize what this is. The fire I have burning for you.

I’m glad you’re giving us the chance to realize what we’re meant to be. I can’t wait for our first date. I’m so excited, I don’t even know what to write for today. I just want to live in the bliss of knowing that you finally see me. See me.

Entry # 244 - July 27th: You couldn't wait, and I almost gave in.

You tried kissing me. Put your hand on my thigh. Brushing against my–

I can’t be impatient. This journey can’t be rushed. No matter how much I want to push your head into the mattress and split you in half as you’re calling out my name.

The sooner I give in, the easier it is to make me a rebound. And I am no rebound.

I am meant to be your eternal. Your other half. Your perfect opposite.

Sleeping with you as soon as tonight would’ve tainted our beginning. You mean so much more to me than that.

Just know I want you so bad. I want to get to know you. I want to see you. For our future to start, we need to start this off right. You’ve signed up for a slow burn, my darling.

We are worth the wait.

Entry # 255 - August 7th: I love you more than I realize.

We are so good together. Even if the bag boy decides to flirt with you in front of me, and even if you entertain it a little, thinking I wouldn’t see.

You’re trying to punish me for being disciplined. It’s funny. The things I could do to punish you for testing my patience. Don’t pretend to be all innocent when you bend your ass towards me, leaning up against the conveyer belt to show off both your…assets. Give a show to me and that loud vest-wearing scum.

You think you’re so clever. So sneaky. And maybe you are. You’ve made quite the effort to conceal the truth about your previous relations. I like to think you’re doing it for me. For my sake. Because you’re so considerate. But I know the truth my darling. I know all I need to know about you. But I appreciate your efforts.

You really do love me. And somehow, I love you even more.

Entry # 297 - September 18th: You miss him.

You saw him today, and although you hid it, I could see it in your eyes. You miss him still. Like he was a scar etched into you, or a blood stain that was impossible to get out.

Did I have to kill him to rid you of thoughts of him? End your suffering by ending his life. It would be easy. So so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so easy.

I just can’t stand the way you look at him. A mere boy when a man like me is beside you.

Making you wait feels almost impossible now. Who the hell am I kidding? I’m the one who's waiting.

I just had to do one last thing before. Just one more thing. By then it would be final. And it would just be us. Forever.

You had been seeing Joshua for just a few months, but he was different from the guys you’ve met before. A genuinely good guy. Gentlemanly, even. You found it cute and maybe hot–absolutely hot. Nothing more attractive than knowing a man can keep his hands to himself.

But now, you found yourself wondering if he had not initiated because of something else. Since you’ve met, he’s always been the perfect gentleman, polite and thoughtful in a refreshing and frustrating way. It’s rare to meet a man who doesn’t leap at the chance to get you into bed, and while you found his restraint enticing and irresistible, it also left you questioning whether he’s just being courteous—or if he’s doing it on purpose to ward you off.

You’ve given Joshua every hint imaginable. The thong peeking out from your jeans when you bent over, the casual unbuttoning of your top whenever his eyes drifted your way—each move deliberate, strategic. You even threw in your signature look, those smoldering eyes that always did the trick, scanning his body as if you could ravage him whole, and you would. It had a flawless track record. Until Joshua, that is.

It made you want him more. Like he was making you wait, beg for his attention. Made you forget for a moment you were crying over Seungcheol some time ago. As if your heart didn’t shatter into a million pieces shortly before meeting Joshua.

Even when you saw Seungcheol briefly–so briefly–a part of you still missed your ex, but you craved being in Joshua’s arms more. Like medicine. Joshua was your medicine.

God, you needed him so fucking viscerally.

That’s when you decided. No more beating around the bush this time. It’s been four months too long. You had to have this man.

You decided to make a surprise appearance at his place–the address you just happened to "discover" on his driver’s license when he wasn’t paying attention. And, of course, you showed up wearing something kind of insane.

You know those movie scenes where the sexy love interest throws on an oversized trench coat with barely anything underneath, or sometimes nothing at all? Yeah, well... you decided to try that. And now you’re waiting outside of his apartment building in the autumn weather–freezing your literal ass off–waiting for him to get home to give him the surprise of his life.

It had been over an hour, and with each exhale, your breath hung in the air, a visible reminder of the cold. You hugged your coat tighter around your body, clutching it like it was the only barrier between you and freezing to death. And honestly, it might as well have been. Standing outside his building in practically nothing had your heart racing for all the wrong reasons.

Here you were trying to be all cutesy, sexy, and fun, and this damn man wasn’t even home. Were you out of your mind?

The anxiety was creeping in. The biting autumn air had found every exposed inch of your skin, and your confidence was sinking fast. Just when you were ready to leave this cringe-fest waiting to happen, and retreat to the warmth of your own home, you heard footsteps approaching from down the street. Your pulse quickened as you glanced up, and there he was, walking towards you in a long dark coat and sweater.

Joshua’s eyes met yours, his expression shifting from confusion to slow realization as registered you from his distance, watching you stand there bundled in your trench coat with something obviously beneath it. His lips parted slightly, his brow furrowed, but there was no judgment—just surprise, and more so curiosity.

You instinctively tightened your grip on the coat, pulling it closer around your nearly bare body as you leaned against the wooden front door that had been stubbornly keeping you outside. “Hey,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling slightly in the cold, watching your breath materialize in the air as a delicate cloud of frost.

“Hi?” His tone was cautious but amused as if he was trying to piece together exactly what was waiting at his doorstep. He shoved his leather-gloved hands into the pockets of his own coat, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is...unexpected. What are you doing here?”

You let out a shaky laugh, nerves bubbling up as you shifted on your feet, your bare thighs scraping against one another as they clenched. “Yeah, so... there’s a really good explanation for all of this, but, um...” You glanced down at yourself, then back up at him, feeling more exposed than ever. “Can I come in first?”

His place was disturbingly neat—psychopathically neat. It was the kind of spotless where everything seemed too perfect, like someone with more than a few screws loose needed complete control over their space. Every surface gleamed, not a speck of dust or a misplaced item in sight.

“Want something warm? Tea, maybe?” He politely offered with a warm smile.

You found yourself mirroring his smile, a giddy excitement bubbling inside you like a teenager with a crush. With a light skip, you made your way back toward him, the trench coat swaying around you like an oversized brown paper bag—so tempting to just shed it. “That sounds really nice. Anything would be good.”

“Okay. I’ll put on some Earl Grey for you.” His lingering smile was the last thing you see before he disappeared in the kitchen, giving you the opportunity to learn more about the owner of the home.

Nothing was out of place. The walls were a sterile beige, devoid of any warmth or personality, while the furniture radiated with an unsettling shine that suggested it had never truly been used. Not a single wrapper marred the coffee table, nor was there a crumb in sight—everything was meticulously arranged as if he harbored an unyielding aversion to disorder. It felt more like a stage set than a home, the kind of place that made you wonder if anyone actually lived here, especially given the spontaneity of your intrusion.

Your blood ran cold. The longer you scanned the room, the more strange it felt to be standing there. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as unease settled in. You suddenly found yourself questioning why he was taking so long with the tea.

Your toes curled in discomfort as you glanced over to where Joshua had disappeared, and just then, he emerged from the kitchen, two mugs of steaming hot tea in either hand. He set them down on the coffee table with a practiced ease and settled onto the pristine couch behind him. “Have a seat. We can wait while the tea steeps.”

You nodded, a tight look on your face, and lowered yourself onto the couch beside him, accepting a cup and sipping on its deeply rich content. “Thank you.”

“Now, what brought you over here? I’m surprised you managed to find out where I lived...considering I never told you,” he said, his expression blank as he nursed his cup in his hands.

“Well,” you began, swallowing hard as the heat from the tea scalded your tongue and burned its way down your throat. “I’m not quite sure how to explain this, but…I found your driver’s license when it fell out of your wallet on one of our dates, and I kind of memorized your address? I thought I’d surprise you.” You paused, a nervous laugh escaping. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

He set his tea at the corner of the coffee table, and clasped his hands together, a teasing glint in his eyes hearing your confession. “Well... I commend you for not only your bravery in the doing and admitting fault, but it’s not that weird, actually. It’s kind of flattering.”

“Really? But I invaded your privacy. That’s invasive—almost illegal, isn’t it?”

For a fleeting moment, you swore you saw his fists clench, but then one of his hands slid over yours, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckle, quickening your heart rate. “But if I say it’s okay, then it’s okay. Right?”

Also, setting your tea aside, your other hand instinctively fell on top of his, the earlier discomfort and worry fading into the background. “I guess so.”

He shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. “You look cold. Would you like a hug to warm you up?”

“S-sure,” you managed to stutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you accepted his invitation.

As his arms enveloped you, you felt the raw strength he kept hidden beneath the layers of clothing. The warmth radiated from his body, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he tightened his embrace around you, holding you protectively–possessively even. You breathed in his scent, registering his cologne you were all too familiar with and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. For a moment, every trace of anxiety disappeared. Joshua had a way of making you feel secure again, of restoring that sense of safety you hadn't realized was what you were in search of.

You leaned into it, your breath fanning over the skin of his neck as your hand roamed up his back, eager to peel off his physical and mental layers keeping you from devouring him with reckless abandon. You wanted to pull him closer, to feel the reassuring weight of his body against yours, like your own personal shield. The conflicting urge to consume him entirely, to the point of exhaustion, while simultaneously cherishing every part of him was a dilemma you never anticipated facing—especially so soon after a breakup. Joshua stirred something deep within you, something you couldn’t even begin to explain, no matter how hard you tried.

When he let you go, the absence of his warmth was immediate, but the kind smile on his face remained as if reassuring you that everything was fine. “Better?”

“Yeah. That was nice,” you whispered, still holding his hands, both large and perfect.

“Good. Now. What was this surprise that couldn’t wait for a text or phone call?”

Now, a wave of nerves washed over you once more.

Your hands fiddled with the straps keeping your attire in place, and you hesitated before standing before him, mustering up the final bit of courage you had left in place of your dignity. “Well, I wasn’t quite sure if you were just being the polite gentleman who could ‘do no wrong’ or if you’d been completely oblivious to the hints I’ve been throwing your way since our first date. But I’m here making it as clear as possible for you, Joshua Hong.”

With a determined tug, you loosened the tie that held your closure in place, letting it slip from its knot and revealing the reason you felt goosebumps up your legs. Your breasts bulged out of the lacy fabric, leaving almost nothing to the imagination and hugging parts of your body the man before you had only seen in passing through a window. The pillowy flesh spilling from your decorated underwear left him with a sensation that wrapped around Joshua’s throat and clenched.

He couldn’t feel himself breathing, drinking in your exposed skin, admiring the bright white of the lingerie complimenting your skin as it clung on to you seamlessly, while the trench coat finally found itself where it belonged on the ground. He sank the couch behind him as you came closer, wordlessly tracing every curve, dotting every mole, noting every mark or scar as you loomed over him in feigned innocence. The only air he could draw was his ragged breath, his hands aching to touch you.

“I would love nothing more than to have your hands all over me,” You said with a sultry edge, dripping with obvious intent.

Your knee dug into the couch's cushion, the other following and taking residence in Joshua’s lap as he simply watched. His eyes softly blinked back up at you as you settled into him, having him melt under every word you spoke.

“Is that so?” He asked calmly, physically refraining himself, and ignoring the dark thoughts clouding his logic.

You threw your arms around his neck, gazing down at him as you shifted in his lap. “I do. It’s all I can ever think about anymore. Ever since these last four months.”

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, like steam escaping from a kettle.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“...Am I supposed to say something more?”

“How about–I don’t know. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to say that the whole time,’ or ‘I feel the exact same way, tongue wrestle me until we pass out.’ Give me something,” You begged.

He shrugged, playing up his ignorance. “Doesn’t sound like me? Does it?”

“Is this really all you can talk about? A girl in her best lacy underwear–in white mind you–sitting in your lap like she’s accepting ones in a night club, and you’re fixated on your characterization?”

He shrugged again as if taunting you, the smile on his face growing sinister at your agitation. “I have poor depth perception.”

You groaned, your body feeling heavy as you slumped against him, ready to slide off his lap in defeat. “I give up.”

But just as you were about to peel away from him, you felt a firm pair of hands steady you, anchoring you in place. Joshua’s eyes sharpened as his grip tightened, fitting your body in the curves of his palms. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You blinked back at him, confused yet oddly at home in his touch, despite the rapid beat of your heart suggesting otherwise. “I thought–I kinda thought you wanted nothing to do with me,” you reluctantly answered.

His cool palm slid against your flushed skin, trailing up your body and igniting a path of fire that battled the waves of chills following up your spine. Instinctively, you fell forward, involuntarily pressing your lace-clad chest against the cashmere of his sweater and finding purchase back around his broad shoulders, which looked bigger than usual. A soft squeak passed your lips as he tugged you towards, fitting your bodies together like pieces of a puzzle.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” His hands grasped the sides of your thighs as he tucked them around his torso, not once breaking eye contact.

You felt a cold sweat trickle down your skin, your body stiffening as you focused solely on the soothing tenor of Joshua’s voice. “I always see how you look at me, Angel.” His fingers carded through your hair, pushing it to one side and delicately grazing over the fullness of your breast. “And I love how you look at me.”

“Josh,” Your voice emerged softer than you expected, almost tinged with a plea as you drew closer.

“And believe me when I say this, darling, I’ll always want something to do with you. I want everything to do with you…if you let me.”

You felt his hand somewhere you’ve only ever imagined: at the hook of your bra before he slowly started to unlatch it, the straps falling off your shoulders as your support came undone. You were grateful to be pressed so close to him. Otherwise, your entire upper body would be entirely nude. Entirely exposed. You tucked your arm over your chest, gaze dropping at the perceived proximity until Joshua gently moved you by the chin to meet his eyes.

“Don’t.” He quietly demanded, purposefully moving away, and the undergarment fell from your body, your nipples christened by the chill air conditioning. “So perfect.”

His hand hovered over their shape, only ghosting over them but not nearly touching, yet either bud tensed at their mere presence. You exhaled shakily, your breath uneven and impatient, as your eyes suddenly drifted away, overwhelmed by an unexpected rush from his uncharacteristic attention.

“You don’t want to know how much I imagined putting you in my mouth.” His pursed lips landed on your collarbone in an open mouth kiss, gently pulling you between his lips.

You softly moaned, unfurling your digits before they slid up his neck. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t do anything but—you felt his mouth latch onto you, teeth burying into your flesh. You parted your lip in another moan, instinctively reacting to the familiar concoction of pain and pleasure exhibited by previous partners, but this was Joshua. Gentlemanly Joshua.

He bared his hand flat against your back, dipping your body towards the coffee table and pressing urgent kisses to the hollow of your neck, lingering against the pulse of your throat and digging his hips into your pelvis. Your hand roamed over his body, cradling his head and pressing him closer against you as your knee hooked around his waist.

Joshua swung his hand behind you, knocking over the mugs with a loud crash, sending tea spilling everywhere on the ground as the flat surface of the coffee table urgently met your exposed back. It stung how cold it initially was until the weight of his body stunned you, leaving you impervious to everything else. He grabbed your side, wrestling with the skin of your clavicle as his hand ran harshly over your erect buds, grinding them under his palm.

In between your legs, you felt warmth—the kind that makes a show when you could only think of being rammed at 100 miles an hour—and you felt it soak in the fabric of the lace, flossed between your folds when you were desperate for friction. “Joshua, please…” you cried.

He shoved away the useless bra now just hanging off your body before his lips curled around the curve of your breasts, kissing their underside as his thumbs fiddled with their sensitivity. Your knees bent towards you, your hips pulsating against his thigh as his tongue taunted you, flicking over the texture of your nipples and nipping at the tips as he pulled with his teeth. You whimpered, body falling limp on the table as he nursed you between his lips, his eyes piercing back at you lewdly as an occasional moan would leave his lips.

“Tell me how you like it. Teach me.” He spoke with a quiet, commanding authority.

“Y-you seem to be doing a good job so far.”

He smiled, running his hand through your hair before it gripped between his knuckles, sending a rush of ache from your scalp. Your eyes shot up to meet his, a blend of fear and arousal flashing through them, but you were quickly soothed by the gaze he held, sultry and unshakable. “Should I be mean then?” He offered.

You let out a brief yelp after his hand swatted over your plush thigh, your flesh spilling between his fingers as he squeezed. The bridge of his nose touched your speechless expression, lips tracing over your face with a deep exhale. “Give you the kind of things you want? What I learned about you?”

“What have y-you learned?” you hesitated to ask.

His eyes glazed over you, seeing you melt at a simple glance before tenderly pressing his lips to yours, only sampling. You mewled in the depths of your throat, lips falling open as you kissed him for the first time, succumbing to the pillowy texture of his lips. His eyes partially open, he fixed his eyes on your features, how they contorted with his touch, reacting involuntarily to the rocking of his body against you. He was obsessed with the mere image of you.

“What I’ve learned, hmm,” he quietly pondered.

Giving him time to think, your hand cupped over his attached to your thigh, guiding it under you and around your ass, letting his digits outline the curve of your body. He chuckled and brought the other hand parallel, following his carnal urge to clutch you tightly in his grip. A smile melted on your face briefly, enjoying the sensation of his hands before he roughly pulled down your underwear before you could even gasp, leaving you truly naked.

“I’ve learned that when you want something, you take it.” His hands come down to the bottom of his sweater and pull it along with what’s underneath off of him.

His glistening tan reflected back at you, beads of perspiration coating his skin—likely a result of months of tension finally unfolding. As you took him in for the first time, the way the light and shadows sculpted his form accentuated his physique, leaving you stunned and curious about what else he might’ve been hiding from you.

“So take what you want from me, Angel.”

God, you really could swallow him whole in a single gulp.

You repositioned yourself, planted your knees on the table, and tugged him by his belt. Your once pleading eyes became determined as you fixated on tearing off his pants, starting by unbuckling his belt at the waist. Your eyes fluttered, seeing the bulge through his briefs, twitching in your presence while you fit a finger at the top hem. A sigh escaped you; glance briefly up at Joshua’s expression–full of patient anticipation–before wrapping your hands around his aroused girth.

“...You’ve been waiting for me,” you began to realize, seeing the cock firm up in your grasp.

He let out an amused hum, stroking the side of your head. “I wanted to make sure you wanted me.”

“Of course, I wanted you.” Your hand ran along his shaft, veins pulsing on the ball of your palm, and you pressed the head to your lips. “I just wanted you to show me you wanted me.”

Joshua’s groans barely escaped as your lips curved around the tip and more than gently kissed. His hand clasped around your head, moving it so your eyes could face his, seeing him come apart in front of you. From just your teasing. “Darling, if I did that…I’d never know when to stop.”

“Joshua. I’d never ask you to stop.”

His hand cupped your face, and you melted into his palm–absolutely reveling in the blind infatuation on your face before he made you face his arousal, cock grazing your chin before he pressed it past your lips. Your lips stretched around him like a rubber band, expanding to conquer his size but not with ease. Your hand covered his base and enveloping his length as much as you could.

“Angel,” he grunted.

He claimed the back of your head, leading your pace as you took him. Your hands clasped around his hips, fastening yourself to him. You could already feel your drool drip alongside your chin, becoming sloppy as you were fixated on his complexion: blissed with parted lips, looking at you like he’d been touched for the first time.

Your moans vibrated around him as he thrusted into you, momentarily breaching the air of his pelvis before he pulled you back, flicking his hips into your mouth and overcome with ecstasy. “My good little Angel,” he groans, breath hitching in his throat. “Taking my cock like you were made for me.”

He tugged your hair tighter as you felt the hilt hit the back of your throat, and you thought to yourself how much It would’ve hurt if you weren’t otherwise drunk with bliss. You buried him deep inside you, holding him with both hands, sobbing on him with such anguish that people would assume you hadn’t been fed for days.

Joshua’s pretty lips got caught in his pretty teeth, and the darkness in his eyes deepened to a richer, more intense black as a sense of reckless abandon enveloped him. “God…look at you…good little slut like you likes taking cock like mine, doesn’t she?”

The sensation of your mouth massaged him heavenly, having you taste the heady tang of his skin on your tongue while your nose tickled against his groin. He clutched your head, your whimpers and cries pulsating around his girth, fucking your mouth until you hit the base. You looked up, pliant and willing, as tears swelled in your eyes, cheeks hot to the touch, and a thick sheen of slobber over your lips.

You’re precious. And his. All his.

He pried either of your hands off him and restrained them above your head, carrying the weight of his control in his hips, crushing your mouth against his lap. While one hand had stabilized your wrists, the other back fell back in your hair, fucking your pretty mouth until he couldn’t anymore.

Joshua felt his name muffled around his cock, staring back at you as you repeated his name, desperation echoing from your throat, but not to stop–oh no, he recognized this stare. He held you towards him, cutting your airways with hardly a second to breathe. Your eyes fluttered. Pupils began to roll to the back of your head as his cock slid down your throat, bottoming out inside you for the first time.

“You want my cum, don’t you? You’re so damn obvious you do,” he taunted in an unfamiliar tone, foreign to you but nonetheless welcome.

You hummed confirmation around the girth, practically whining with full cheeks.

“Angel, you know what it means when I do, right?” he loomed over you, as your mouth was still pressed against him in an abrupt halt, still tasting all of him. “Do you understand what you’re getting into? The second I cum inside you–mouth or cunt–you’re mine. Are you ready for that responsibility?”

You nodded, impatience singeing your tongue.

“Really?” The fingers threaded through your hair pulled you off, giving you the sharpest intake of oxygen before you fell right back where you belonged with a slam. The pain in your throat caused it to go hoarse, and the tears once swelling in your eyes streamed down your face. “You better mean it, darling. Words aren’t just a promise to me; they’re a vow.”

His final thrusts were steady but harsh, pressing his size inside of you until you gagged, and finally, when he was merciful, you felt his hot stream coat your throat. His hips found their falter, plunging in and out of you–the cum dribbling down your chin until he finally let you go, prying you off him and giving you a moment of rest sprawled on the coffee table.

But only a moment.

His hands wordlessly caressed you, body drained from release, but mind hungry for your essence. Every word he’s ever said in this exchange, he’s meant with every fiber of his being, down to his very core.

“Tired, darling? We’re only getting started.”

You softly chuckled, a tired smile reappearing for the first time in a while. “I’m in for a lot with you, aren’t I?” you asked, strain evident in your voice.

“You’re asking that question far too little too late, Angel.”

His lips puckered to met yours in a gentle kiss, then another, then another. You held him against you, not minding how disheveled you looked with your pulled hair and mascara streaks staining your cheeks, it was your turn.

Joshua found your body easily in your liplock, gliding his hands up and down your body in rushed motions as if memorizing you by touch. Your dips, your curves, your angles. There wasn’t one part of you he dared to miss. And you smiled, you chuckled, so lust blind to see the symptoms forming before your very eyes as if they weren’t already there. He swallowed your laughter, tasting victory on your tongue, and nuzzled in the crook of your lips. “Can I do the things I'm willing to do for you–what I’m willing to do to you?”

You cupped his face, an impish grin on your face. “Stop asking and fuck me like you love me, Joshua.”

Gladly.

He held either of your legs at his side, fingers aligning your folds and splitting in half. If they didn’t already look big, they most certainly felt big. A single digit only traced along your slit, and your hips buckled, fluttering at the sliver of taste.

“I’ve barely grazed you, and you’re like a flood down there,” he quietly teased, pushing in his index halfway.

You clenched around him, then around nothing, and he repeated, effortlessly stealing your breath with every move. You anchored yourself to the edge of the table. “You know exactly why, Josh.” You whimpered.

He then pushes in the full digit–reaching deeper than you expected–and you convulse around him. Your head snapped back, the phantom strings of Joshua’s nasty habits–already acquainted with your body–pulling you in without warning. “Oh my god.”

“You’re so easy to please. As if I know everything about your body without you telling me.” He thrusted his finger, cultivating a rhythm he knew would be perfect for his little darling.

“It’s as if…we’ve known each other forever.” You stated in your countless, staggered breaths.

“Forever…” he plunged another finger, feeling you flutter around him delightfully, “with you?”

His smile, that unsettling perfect smile, pressed a tender kiss against your lips. “I rather like that. Me and you. Forever.”

You quietly laughed before tugging him into a deeper liplock, gently slotting your finger through his hair, not worried about ruining its pristine as you pulled him closer. “I’ll take you and me forever.”

“Now, angel–” you took the hand he had inside you to guide him faster, deeper, your language becoming gasps and moans in a matter of seconds.

He didn’t bother finishing his thought, too enraptured by your demanding hunger, that he pressed on further, feeding you his digits as you swallowed each one by one. His thumb caressed your pulsating bud for extra good measure, taking pleasure at how often you shake when he does, and rammed his fingers deeper in you, finally hearing what his name sounds like in a state of bliss.

He’s overcome with pride–nay–overcome with triumph. The way you look at him with such an utterly lewd expression, your delicious scent a thick film on your body that he couldn’t help but want to lick and devour and engorge. He didn’t need to have another orgasm for another second if it meant seeing you come apart the way you were right now.

“Joshua!” you cried, body shaking as if you were glitching, having an out-of-body experience, and you undid yourself the way he did: utterly and perfectly euphoric.

You creamed his digits with nectar, milky and fair, and he didn’t wait a second for them to enter his mouth, knuckles deep. His eyes fell shut from elation, moaning around his hands, and he caught even the slightest drop down his wrists.

You were fucking–

“Magnificent.” He swallowed your lips once more, hungrily, arousal rushing down to his body again. “Perfect, my sweet little angel.”

“...forever. Me and you.” You repeated, not getting pass the conversation that was interrupted what felt like a millennia ago. “I’ll take you for forever. And that’s a vow for me, too.”

Joshua never expected this, such a scene of ease and pristine, seeing his future lie limp and happy and fucked. You had never looked so beautiful. After all the men you’ve met, all the bodies you’ve collided with, all the dicks you’ve sucked, you always had a glow. It’s why he tolerated such things, but to see that glow after him. It was the most radiating version of you. And to know you’ll have him. He was the happiest man alive.

“Oh, my darling.” He pulled you up from the table to sit you back in his lap, parting away your hair to clearly see your face smiling back at him even with the fatigue. “You are the most perfect thing.” he shook his head in disbelief, unsure how he got so lucky.

“Let me take you to bed, hmm?”

You quietly nodded, admiring him back all the same.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly, before lifting you both up from the ground and walked into his bedroom–just as unnervingly neat as his living room. Or should you say how neat it was. The bedroom presented its same beige aura, hardly a spec of dust in place, but the one extraordinary thing about it was the light casting from the window, beckoning over the entire city.

The second Joshua tossed your naked body on his bed, you immediately got back up, pressing your palms to the window to gaze down upon everyone through it. “You can actually see everything from up here! Wow.”

You heard Joshua chuckle behind you with his footsteps towards you to follow. “You like it, Angel?”

“It’s beautiful.” The glint in your eyes sparkled brighter than any star above you. “I’ve lived here almost my whole life and I’ve never seen it like this. I can even see my house from here! That's crazy.”

Joshua let out an indistinguishable scoff, immediately covering his mouth before coming behind you, his hand settling on your hips. “I got lucky with the lease. Best I’ve ever seen. I never thought to appreciate this view, but now I have a reason to.”

His kiss bloomed a familiar warmth across your face, and you leaned into his embrace, taking his arms around you as you shared the impeccable view. The city lights illuminated the streets, their people, their livelihood, and you never would’ve imagined seeing it if you hadn’t found Joshua’s address.

You belonged here somehow, as if it was meant for you. It truly did feel special. Joshua made it special.

You brushed your backside to his groin, feeling something already prod your side and you swore you felt yourself purr. Bodies still connected, you leaned into the glass, knee digging into the cushions of the window nook. Joshua followed after you knowingly, hand pawing your thigh as his lips drew to your ear, nipping at the tips.

Your moan, deliciously loud, was all the signal Joshua needed to keep going. He mouthed against your neck, one hand crawling over your chest and another reclaiming your sensitive heat. You doubled over slightly, palming and smearing your fingerprints into the flawlessly clear glass, its chill not disrupting the heat festering your body in the slightest.

Joshua had your body thrum in reaction to his fingers, hips wriggling to his touch, and he heightened the strokes on your already throbbing heat. “Josh, please.”

He groaned into the crook of your neck, the outline of his erect cock distinctly recognizable against your lower back. “I want to show whoever’s watching what you’ve done to me, Angel.” he slammed his fingers upright inside you before returning to his regulated pace. “Show what pretty little slut you become when you’re within reach of me.”

“Anything, Josh, anything. Anything for you to fuck me.”

He snickered, an empty darkness echoing inside the tone. “You asked for it.”

His body slammed up against you, hungrily biting along your skin as he nestled his cock between your slit as he entered. You sooner realized how fingers did his size no justice as they filled your cunt with strain. Your ass perked up behind him, not a moment longer before you were forced to adjust to his size with full thrust, holding you by your neck as his other arm cuffed you by your elbows.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, falling and bouncing back against him as his raw cock took you demandingly.

“This pussy,” he growled, his hand striking the full shape of your ass cheek where it still stung, “I’ve dreamt of this pussy.”

He buried himself in you, hitting the hilt deep with your core to the point your vision flickered back to your skull. Your legs parted wide, backing yourself against him until you were accepting every inch. “Fuck that feels so fucking good, don’t fucking stop.”

“Yeah? My slutty angel likes my cock pounding into her pretty pussy?”

“Yes, please, Josh, please give it to me. I love how you give it to me so good.”

“You beg like that,” he gritted his teeth. “I’ll have to properly deliver.”

You looked back at him and smiled, hair falling over your face and his thrusts made you a vision of lust, somehow gracefully breathtaking with his cock buried deep inside you. “You and me forever, right? Don’t stop now.”

Joshua was throbbing, practically beaming at your answer, and before you knew it, your chest was greeted with the frost-bitten window, now flattening against your breasts. Groaning upon impact, the tempered glass tensed your nipples, bringing them both to a hard point, now freezing and pebbling you from your arms to your legs.

Joshua’s body pinned you in place, and you felt his unnerving arousal slide up and down between your cheeks and pushing back up inside you. “I’ll show just how much you’re mine to the world.” His voice was still gentle yet demanding. “Only because you asked for it.”

His flat palm struck you again, pushing up your body and letting the echoes of your collision play in surround sound. Your body, already sore from earlier, knew no rest as you took him deeper, the cold intensifying the pleasure rushing through your body. Your hips swiveled, playing with his cock like a personal toy, and you braced the window in front of you willingly, blasting on an indefinite high.

“Thinking about how someone can see you up here?” He whispered. “Taking my cock like the precious little angel you are? Or letting me fuck you like the nasty fucking slut you are?”

You gingerly nodded, hugging the glass desperately to feel him deeper inside you.“Yes—fuck—I want someone to see us. The thought gets me so wet.”

“So vocal, angel,” he tugged the back of your head, devouring your lips. “My dirty little angel.”

He held your arms behind you, pressing your whole torso against the window, and every snap of his waist had you bending more and more to his will. Every inch of his body had you flushed against him, feeling him present you to the world below like a goddamn masterpiece.

His body slammed again, shaking the glass and flickering fear into your eyes briefly before he reassured you by catching your waist in his hands. “Scared?”

“A little,” you stammered.

“I’ve got you, angel. Just enjoy it.”

And you did, endlessly as his pace picked up again, and by the number of times he’s pushed you, flipped you, rammed you against the window, you were no longer scared of falling through. The fragility of the glass was no longer of concern. You had Joshua to distract you from the life-threatening circumstances with every inch of his being. You had Joshua to protect you from the infinite possibilities of something were to go wrong with the window in front of you shattering. You had Joshua to feel safe no matter how scared and unsure you were. You had Joshua.

Joshua. Joshua. Joshua.

“Joshua, you’re gonna make me cum,” you mewled in his lap. Your ass took its turn to be displayed as your flesh pressed against the thick glass, bouncing on his cock that stiffened up to no bounds inside you.

“Are you? Your pretty pussy is gonna come all over my cock?” His voice now rushed, heightened, signaling how ready he was to burst like fucking dam.

Your nod carried urgency, your hands clasping against his face in desperate pleas, admiring that face you’ve grown fond of, how you could see both light and darkness in them, filling you to the brim with an inexplicable euphoria that you craved with everybody you’ve ever encountered. “I want it. I want to come all over your cock and feel you come inside me too…Make me feel so good so full.”

“Yeah,” he moaned, hand threading through your hair tightly, you hummed in confirmation, bouncing harder as you dared take him by his full length. “This the best cock you ever had? The best one to put my hot cum inside you.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “No one else…no one else can fuck me like you like this. I want you to fill me with all your hot cum.”

“S-shit,” he cried, tugging your back by the wrists, and fucking up into you, the window behind you christened with your sweat and slick arousal.

He ached to cover all his bases, pounding you to malleable dough, he filled your walls with his oozing determination, and his screams of release followed when he shot his promise inside you. His hips faltered in deep, thorough pumps, claiming your body in his hands with intense anguish as he inhaled your skin in his tight, unwavering embrace.

You felt the warmth inside and out of you, like a rapid stream of water—only more viscous and rewarding as your hips bucked, twitching in Joshua’s locking hold, hardly breathing with the way he held you. You wrapped around him just as tight, letting go of him the last thing on your mind and savoring the trembling descent of your peaks.

There are then only sounds of your exchanged breathing, slowly coming down to Earth.

He lowered his forearms, bracing you from your lower back, and carefully lifted you from the nook to carefully lay you against his bed that felt like heaven enveloping your body. He crawled on top of you still, descending lingering kisses all along your body before his lips reached your tired heat, not even thinking of pleasuring you but doing it anyway as he lapped up the final remnants of tonight’s events.

His hums were pleasant vibration, wordlessly tasting every ounce of cum—yours or his, it didn’t matter—and swallowing it like a full meal, gently caressing your swollen clit. He couldn’t have enough of you, letting the brain fog control him until you started screaming in pleasure again.

You had to pull him by threads of his hair to stop, overstimulated by his unwavering hunger, and for a second that darkness was back in his eyes the deepest you had ever seen until they softened in concern, his grip loosening. “You okay?” he wafted in with concern.

“Yeah, it felt good, I just…you’re gonna kill me,” you lightly joked.

He softly laughed, leveraging him up and facing chest to chest with you, devouring your lips with that lingering tang of dominance still on his tongue. “Never…” he whispered with a smile, before he inhaled you for a moment longer, swallowing your moans, caressing your body.

He finally found his self-restraint and let you rest, offering to run a warm bath in the hallway bathroom. You turned to him, taking his hand in gratitude. “That would be really nice.”

“I’ll start one up for you.”

As he leaves, you sink into the bed, reveling in the sheets worn from your presence, and hear the water run in another room, smelling of the clean seat of soap, and nothing has ever felt so right.

“I’ll carry you,” he stated before picking you up from your neck and back to your knees into the bathroom that was another vision of perfection, lit candles marking your path.

You gushed in disbelief, your body finally dipping to the perfect temperature as you were surrounded with rose petals and bubbles. Almost as if he planned this. Like he knew what to do and how to exactly do it.

“How is it?” He asked, hospitality being of second nature. “Warm enough? Water deep enough?”

You gripped the edge of the tub to gaze back at him, bent down to meet your level with a soft, adoring smile as the water splashed against you soothed your aching body. “Who are you, Joshua Hong?”

He snickered, kissing the top of your head without answer. “I’m gonna let you be on your own for a moment, to really give your rest and after I clean up outside, maybe I’ll join you. Just…don’t go anywhere.”

You nodded, initiating a chaste kiss on his lips. “I won't.”

“Good girl.” His smile had never gotten so big, kissing you back with double the force before he got up to leave.

“Leave the door open,” you requested, “just in case you wanted…a nice image welcoming you back.”

“Alright,” he said, eyes lingering on your state before finally taking his leave.

Joshua had his fun in the sun, clinging to every second of this perfect night, but he needed to clean up one more thing before it could truly end perfectly. The kitchen, if you could see it, was clean and pristine as the rest of the house goddamn near was until you helped him wreck it, except one thing just of place.

He glanced at the hunting knife in the sink, carelessly rinsed after he didn’t think he had time to properly clean in your company. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, realizing how long the metal had soaked in the water. He reached into the cabinet for cleaning supplies, his mind racing.

Dousing a rag with isopropyl, he carefully wiped every surface, hoping no streaks were left on the metal, almost failing to notice the blood ironically staining the stainless steel of his sink, to which he scrubbed and scrubbed with conviction. He couldn’t help but be grateful for your lack of awareness, the thought of entering his kitchen not crossing your mind a moment this entire visit. It’s why he loved you. You didn’t ask unnecessary questions. You kept to yourself for the most part despite your rendezvouses. And you weren’t trouble. He couldn’t wait to return to you. His perfectly oblivious angel.

Meanwhile, you soaked in the water, smelling its essential oil and lathering up the bubbles on your body. In the corner of your eye, a door catches your attention, having not noticed it since entering the apartment. The only door with a keypadlock that seemed to require a code, protecting whatever’s inside or keeping whoever unwanted out. Your thoughts lingered for a moment, wondering what he wanted to keep hidden from plain sight. Hobbies? Priceless items? Murder weapons? Your mind spiraled through every possibility, leaving an itch you couldn’t quite reach to scratch.

But before another second passes, you’re reunited with the man who’s been consuming your thoughts, a smile of relief returning to your face.

“Hi, everything good down there?” You gazed back up at him.

“Yeah, sorry I took so long,” he sighed, the weight on his shoulders palpable until the tension eased away as he slid into the tub beside you.

You moved closer, collapsing into his chest and nuzzling against him, the warmth of his embrace far better than any hot bath. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

His hand gently stroked the back of your head, smoothing the damp tendrils on your shoulders as he glanced down at you, then at the mirror reflecting your intertwined bodies. The image before him was a vision of what the rest of his life would look like. As he correctly foretold. As he meticulously planned. Everything falling into place.

“Me too.”

Your eyes still flickered toward the door with the keypad, curiosity gnawing at you, but you pushed it aside. Whatever was hidden behind that door no longer mattered. Joshua was all that mattered now. You were irrevocably his, as he was irrevocably yours.

Whatever secrets he had, he could keep them.

#thediamondlifenetwork #svthub #seventeen smut #Joshua hong smut #Joshua hong #hong jisoo smut #hong jisoo #seventeen joshua #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong x you #hong jisoo x reader #hong jisoo x you

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saltcxrcle · 1 year ago

Text

must be love ❥ s.winchester

summary: social media/modern era au with stanford! sam winchester

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, slice of life, references to drinking, and one mention of sex

a/n: first social media au so please be nice to be loll. but this was fun to make! and who knows i might make more in the future 🤭

also happy b-day to jared padalecki our cancer king 😩🙌 (him being a cancer makes so much sense to me), and the user: dianhhboo is actually my friend to introduced me to spn and i wanted to add her in the fic 🤭

reblog and comment! i love to see your thoughts on my fics (even if this isn't technically a fic lol)

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

yourusername

liked by jessymoore, samwinchester, and 1490 others

yourusername life lately <3

tagged: jessymoore, dianahhboo, samwinchester, deansbaby67 +3 more

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jessymoore we need to have more girls nights, finals are going to kill me ↳ yourusername 100% this paper might make me off myself ↳ dianhhboo remind me why i decided to major in psych 😭 ↳ jessymoore because we wanted free therapy after we graduated

deansbaby67 fyi i totally kicked your ass in cards ↳ yourusername mhm sure you did deanie you were totally not drunk off your ass the entire time ↳ deansbaby67 @ samwinchester sammy come and get your gf she's being mean to me ☹️ ↳ samwinchester not my problem 🤷‍♂️ ↳ deansbaby67 im never visiting you ever again

+ + +

samwinchester

liked by yourusername, dianhhboo, and 986 others

samwinchester study date for the LSATS with my love (we consumed so much coffee but she still fell asleep)

view all 532 comments

bradybunch dude i thought you said you wanted to study alone ↳ samwinchester your idea of studying is just having your work out and being on your phone ↳ bradybunch harsh... but fair

yourusername i was running on fumes and that book was really boring i couldn't help it ↳ samwinchester how much sleep did you get in the past week... ↳ yourusername ummm like 5 hours... ↳ samwinchester per night? ↳ yourusername ...the entire week ↳ samwinchester BABE!? that's it, you're not studying anymore, come to my dorm, we're going to bed ↳ yourusername 😏😏 ↳ samwinchester we're SLEEPING honey ↳ yourusername 😒

deansbaby67 nerds ↳ samwinchester really dean? ↳ deansbaby67 just calling it how i see it ↳ samwinchester whatever 🙄

+ + +

yourusername

liked by deansbaby67, winchestermary, and 1567 others

yourusername guys i love my bf 🥰🥰

tagged: samwinchester

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deansbaby67 barf 🤢 this is not what i wanted to see first thing in the morning ↳ yourusername sorry mr. one night stands ↳ deansbaby67 are you slut shaming me? ↳ yourusername ofc i am 😍

samwinchester i love you too but why those photos 😭 ↳ yourusername why not? i need to show the ppl my smoking hot and sweet boyfriend 😘

jessymoore youre cheating on me?! im leaving and taking the kids ↳ yourusername WAIT NO BABE HE MEANS NOTHING I SWEAR DONT TAKE THE KIDS ↳ jessymoore too late the papers are on your desk ↳ deansbaby67 wth did i just read?

+ + +

samwinchester

liked by dianhhboo, bradybrunch, and 1053 others

samwinchester love you my silly girl ❤️

tagged: yourusername

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dianhhboo you guys are disgustingly cute ↳ jessymoore right? like please we get it you're in love

yourusername ive trained you well in taking candids 🤭 also when did you take those photos? ↳ samwinchester a magician never reveals his secrets 🤫 ↳ yourusername you're a dork ↳ samwinchester ah but you love this dork ↳ yourusername unfortunately ↳ samwinchester UNFORTUNATELY??

yourusername im kidding i love you sammy ❤️ ↳ samwinchester i love you too i guess ↳ yourusername oh great ive triggered sassy sammy

+ + +

yourusername

liked by jessymoore, bradybunch and 1267 others

yourusername officially moved in with sammy 💛

tagged: samwinchester

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deansbaby67 uhh at least tag me for helping you two dweebs move in? ↳ yourusername sorry 🙄

yourusername add'l creds to @ deansbaby67 bc he's a big baby ↳ deansbaby67 thank you future sister-in-law ↳ yourusername @ samwinchester 🤨🤨 wanna explain? ↳ samwinchester @ yourusername not really

winchestersmary congrats on moving in you two! i hope to see you soon ↳ yourusername aah thank you mary we'll be visiting for christmas 😁

samwinchester i love you baby ↳ yourusername love you more sammy ↳ samwinchester impossible

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athynathens · 7 months ago

Text

this burning sensation

“This type of love has inflicted you pain so many times yet why you still looking for love?”

PAIRING. Bakugo Katsuki x You/Reader

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. This takes place in the Boku No Hero Academia universe. No quirks have been stated here. This is purely a oneshot about Bakugo being a firefighter.

SYNOPSIS. Bakugo Katsuki is a firefighter who captured the hearts of many with his burning gaze. He does not sugarcoat his playboy demeanor, choosing to play around girls like a boy playing with matchsticks. He is quite skilled in maintaining the fire he needs. However, meeting you triggered his own fire to grow hotter and stronger. For the first time in his life, he does not know how to handle this very burning sensation.

WARNINGS. Minors dni, kinda angsty such as bakugo being a redflag and a dick (but a happy ending)

AUTHOR’S NOTES. Hiiii im back from university frl. Srry for not updatingggg!! Balancing my med life with this was rlly not possible so i had to wait for break. I’ll try my best to update as much as a i can before my second sem starts!! Thank you for your patience!!

TAGS. @professionalreblogger @ch3rryjampi3 @yaygerist @dragonscribble. Comment down if you wish to be tagged!

FIREFIGHTERS aid to those who have been in a fire accident. That was their primary purpose. However, you do not recall that their other objective was placing a burning sensation on your cheeks. Those rugged and buffy men be flexing them muscles while saving shit.

Before saving lives, they should learn how to save hearts, for real.

These desireable feelings began with Bakugo Katsuki. This man became the reason of the burning sensation on your cheeks.

You met this man in a rather unexpected way.

Uraraka, a friend from one of your part time jobs, had a get together with her highschool friends on an Ocean Park. It’s quite funny since one of your part time jobs is in this park. However, she’s clueless whether or not you’re working today.

— But it turns out you are.

“A mermaid show?” Kaminari reads. “Wait! There are mermaids here?!?”

Uraraka giggles and nods, “Yep!! One of my friends works as a mermaid who swims inside the tanks with the fishes!! Although, I am not sure if she’s on duty right now…that woman has other jobs after all!!”

“Does she swim with sharks?” Kaminari had to ask, but ended up getting hit in the head by Jiro.

“I heard she does!! She was trained after all!!” Uraraka replied.

“Damn, mama. Ya for real?” Sero asked, placing both hands on his pockets as he watched fishes swam from the glass.

The brunette nods her head again. “Yep!! I watched her once!! You know, she even had to dye her hair white-ish silver for this role since the color reflects better when she’s in water!!”

“Aye? Ya heard that Bakugo? A mermaid! Here in this Ocean Park! Can you believe that?” Kirishima called out his friend from a far.

Bakugo Katsuki walked towards them with his hands on his pockets. His compression shirt hugged his pecs and small waist perfectly, emphasizing his veiny arms as he flexed them. The scars and bruises on his arms added to his intimidatingly hot demeanor.

Bakugo scoffed, “I ‘ont get the damn hype. It’s a damn human with tails — a fake fucking tail.”

Kirishima chuckled, placing his buffed arm around his shoulder. He joked how uptight his friend can be. Kaminari and Sero joined in this joke. It ended up a loud explosion of anger from the blond.

“Ochako-chan,” Asui spoke with her index finger near her mouth. “Where should we go next before Bakugo attracts more people with his shouting?”

Uraraka looked behind Asui to only see the boys crowding one another, laughing and joking about boy stuff. Then, the girls looked to their side to see a bunch of girls giggling and smiling at the boys.

Momo sighed, “Tsuyu-chan, I don’t think it’s Bakugo’s shouting is what’s attracting them…”

“Yep. It’s their damn good looks that’s attracting those girls. Is this what it means to be a firefighter?” Jiro jokes, taking a bite of a fry from Momo’s hand.

“Boi. Can’t blame them! Have you seen my man?” Mina creates love simp eyes on her boyfriend, Kirishima. She stared at his huge biceps and thick thighs.

“Ew! Stop undressing your boyfriend in front of us!” Uraraka retorts, creating fake gagging noises.

“Shut yo ass up! I know you are drooling over your broccoli over there!” Mina teases, gesturing at a certain green-haired who is calming down an intense-looking Bakugo at the moment.

She flinched, a sudden redness arose from her cheeks and stuttered, “Shut u—”

She stopped talking when Uraraka heard the glass behind her tapping. The brunette looked behind to see you smiling at her. You had your mermaid outfit on, it was complete with sea shells and pearls.

Uraraka’s eyes brightened in excitement and screamed your name, gaining the attention of her highschool friends. The brunette jumped and waved upon seeing your figure in the water.

“Guys! This is the friend I told you about!!” Uraraka introduced happily.

You looked over to see side to see a lot of people. You heard of Uraraka’s high school friends, she loved talking about them during breaks. You never anticipated that you’ll meet them right here and right now while you’re in water. Most of them were smiling and waving at you. Therefore, you returned their kind gesture with gratitude.

Bakugo Katsuki thought you look ethereal. He thought he saw a goddess in the waters of chlorine. The way your hair is spread out in the water, the way your tail compliments the silver hair you have, the way the light reflects beautifully on your hair, the way your skin looks so exquisite like ambrosia.

His eyes travelled up to your face, analyzing it like a math problem. The smile plastered on your face made his stomach feel things, which was a weird feeling for him.

He had a history of flings here and there, but never did he had this tingling feeling on his stomach.

“Gettin’ attracted to this beautiful woman, I see?” Sero teases, siding his eyes to see his composure.

“Mind your own damn business,” He retorted, clicking his tongue.

Sero only grinned, loving this new side of his friend. It’s legit not like everyday someone as proud and cocky like Bakugo to get infatuated by a girl in fake tails.

Uraraka did charades with her body, trying to ask your time out. You placed 10 fingers out, illustrating that you’ll be done at 10am then you’re free. Today’s not hectic for her actually. This mermaid show is the only job she has for the day.

The brunette clapped her hands while jumping, and she pointed at the area where the jelly fishes are, indicating that they’ll be exploring that place first. You gave her a thumbs up then breathe out, causing bubbles to form and created a heart.

She giggled, waving you a goodbye as you swam to the opposite side to greet other guests through the glass.

“Damn, Uraraka! You’ve got a hot friend! If I wasn’t dating Eijiro, sure as hell will I date her!” Mina giggled, causing Kirishima to pout at her comment. The pink-haired noticed and console her beloved with kisses and hugs, causing Bakugo to roll his eyes at this lovestruck moment.

The group walked across the jellyfish section, admiring each sea creature. The couples in the group were laughing and holding each other while pointing at the jellyfishes. The only single ones are Iida, Sero and Bakugo. This trio stuck together, being third wheels with the couples.

At first, Bakugo wanted to leave, but after seeing such an ethereal creature before his eyes; that gave him a reason to stay.

“So,” Sero began talking. “You and Miss Mermaid, aye?”

The blond rolled his eyes, “What about her?”

Iida karate-chop his arm towards Bakugo, pointing at him completely. “We saw how you looked at her!! There’s nothing wrong with being attracted to someone of the opposite sex! You should ask her out!”

“I don’t do relationships, and yall know that shit,” Bakugo scoffed, pushing Iida’s hand away.

Sero leaned forward a bit to punch his chest and said, “That’s what that red hunk said too,” He gestured at Kirishima, who has his buffy arms around Mina’s shoulders. “Yet, he’s such a simp for Mina right now.”

The blond was about to mention something till he heard such an alluring voice coming from behind. He snapped his head back to see you running towards them with a smile. His stomach dropped, seeing you in such a big jacket that emphasized your small frame. Your legs were bare in front of him, and he doesn’t even notice you have shorts thanks to the length of this jacket.

“Goodness! Your hair is still wet!!” Uraraka ran towards you with concern.

“Nah! That’s fine!!” You replied, reassuring her that this is fine.

The brunette grabbed your wrists, bringing you closer to the group. She introduced her boyfriend first, Midoriya Izuku. Then, she introduced her girl friends, who excitedly commented about how pretty you looked in the water. Lastly are the boys. She introduced these tall and intimidating-looking men to you.

You were a bit scared since their height can make your neck hurt — or maybe you were just really tiny…

Uraraka then brought you to the last person in the group. You looked up to see sharp eyes staring down at you. Your body flinched a bit with his gaze. As the brunette was introducing you to this blond, you had to fondle your fingers together while looking at the ground.

“Name’s Bakugo Katsuki,” He suddenly spoke, beating Uraraka to his introduction.

You bowed slightly, acknowledging his presence while keeping your head down. He isn’t exactly a new person to you. Him and his friends are pretty famous in the neighborhood.

Uraraka stared at you then at him then at you again. The latter got the picture so she giggled teasingly, catching your attention.

“What?” You asked, curious to why she’s suddenly laughing.

“Nothing,” She shook her head while giggling.

You were about to speak when she wrapped her arms around your arm, tugging you closer to her. You had a feeling she’s trying to change the subject, but she just keeps giggling and pulling you around.

You managed to look behind to only see the boys swarming around Bakugo, giving him a high-five and such. Your heart fluttered when his mouth turned into a sexy grin, such cockiness would usually turn you off, but with him? It makes your cheeks have that burning sensation.

His eyes suddenly snapped towards you. Holy shit. He caught you staring. You immediately snapped your head forward, trying to walk faster and away from him.

As the day goes by, the group toured around the Ocean Park. Some even got to tryout the scuba diving section in this park while others got to pet penguins and such. They did all the fun things presented by the park.

It was all fun and games to those people, but to you? It was a tiring experience.

The reason? Well, it’s simple really…it’s Bakugo frickin’ Katsuki.

Everywhere you go, his eyes follows. You can see his red orbs just staring at you through the glass while you watch fishes swim around. You would also side glance to see him gazing at you again.

As the sun begins to disappear from the sky, the group had to separate their ways. However, the funny thing is that Uraraka was supposed to bring you home, but she excused herself quite quickly and asked Bakugo to bring you home. This seemed way planned since she giggled loudly, almost as if she’s teasing me with something that not yet happened.

D-Did she just leave me with this hottie? You sweat, seeing her figure getting smaller and smaller from the distance.

“U-Um…you don’t have to bring me home…I can just take the train…” You stuttered, still not looking at him due to shyness.

He finally spoke. “You have a habit of not looking at people or sumthing, Shrimpy?”

You gulped, “U-Um…sorry…i-it’s just..umm…” How the fuck do you say that the reason why you can’t look at him is cause he’s too fucking hot for you. His presence alone is already making you shy.

Bakugo chuckled, “Got it, Shrimpy. C’mon my ride’s just here.”

He began walking while twirling his keys with his index finger and his other hand on his pocket. You followed him till he reached his car. As soon as he unlocked his car, he opened the door for you. This small action made your heart flutter once more.

His large frame suddenly leaned forward to put your seatbelt on. Your heart dropped, seeing how close he is to your own body.

As he retracted from your body, his fingers traced your thighs. You flinched, not knowing if he’s doing this on purpose or by accident. Your throat released a big gulp, subconsciously crossing your legs and holding the strap of belt.

When he entered the car, he began driving to the destination. Holy fucking fuck. He’s driving with one hand while the other’s in the hand gear shift. You fondled with the strap again as you gazed upon his hand on the wheel. Each time he turns, you watched the veins on his hands just popped out.

“Nice digs…” You complimented his car, trying to strike a conversation to get rid of this awkward fucking silence. And well to be honest, you just want to hear his sexy voice.

He grinned, switching the position of his hands on the wheels. “You sure know how to fucking compliment a man.” His reply made you blush once more, reddening your cheeks more.

“So where ‘m taking ya, Shrimpy?”

“U-Umm…to XXX-XXX…please.”

His eyebrow arched, remembering that area recently got into a fire accident. He was a part of that mission, and he vaguely recalled that experience. It was pretty hectic and dangerous, the most dangerous he has ever experienced. He even thought he was gonna die while saving the citizens inside.

“You ought to be careful there. I recently rescued people from a fire accident around your area, ya hear me?”

Your head snapped towards him, he finally caught your attention. “Rescue..? You’re a firefighter, right?”

He scoffed playfully, “What gave that shit away?”

“I actually saw you once in action! The building was literally collapsing yet you managed to carried out 5 people on your back!!” You replied with such amazement, recalling how brave and heroic he looked when he exited the building.

Now this piqued his interest. “Ho? You saw me once, huh?”

You can only nod excitingly. You rambled — well more on praised his heroic performance since you only saw that type of shit in TV. Experiencing an event like that in real life just makes the experience a whole lot better. Your respect for firefighters just deepened since it must be very hard walking onto those flames to save people.

“How do you do it?” You had to ask, curious with his lifestyle as a firefighter. He only stayed silent, not sure what you were implying.

“Like…how do you just walk into fire to save them? It takes a lot of mental strength to do that, you know? And is your job just running inside the burning house? Are there other jobs? Are you required to learn stuff from the medical field? What happens if—” You stopped talking when he laughed loudly.

You tilted your head in confusion, trying to recall if you said anything funny. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “Nothing! The conversation I usually have with girls are about getting my phone number and sex. But you?” He looked at you for a brief moment then back at the road. “You asked about my job?”

“Not everything’s about sex!” You retorted. “Besides, I was just really curious about it, you know? It still really amazes me how you managed to save people in a collapsing building…”

Batump…

Bakugo stared at the road blankly, not expecting this type of conversation with a girl. It was no lie when he mentioned that girls are only after his number and sex. This was the first time someone asked him about…well…him.

The blond knew he’s self-worth. He knows that he can attract ladies with his charms and looks. All he had to do is glance to their direction as he flex his muscles, and the girls come to him.

You tilted your head when he chuckled, perplexed with what he’s laughing on. You were about to ask till he began explaining the basics and strategies. He elucidated everything so well, that it felt like a lecture at this point. This alone indicates how he loves his job.

You smiled at his rambling, and you continued asking questions. He answered them quickly, trying to contain his excitement which ended up as a fail to be honest.

This went on till he finally drove you home.

Bakugo parked his car, veering the gear shift to its parking mode. You removed your seatbelt and fixed the strap of your bag on your shoulders. You were about to open the door when he did it for you.

As soon as the door opened, your heart skipped a beat from this gesture.

“Ya comin’ or what?” He rasped, placing his palm in front of you.

You nodded, colliding your fingers with his fingers first. Then, you slowly guided your fingers to his palm. The blond reacted by slowly closing his hand while you reacted the same way.

You giggled a bit, “Didn’t depict you to be a gentleman.”

He scoffed, closing the door and lock his car. “Was that supposed to be an insult, dumbass?”

“Take it how you want it…”

He arched his brow, holding your hand a bit tighter. The goosebumps traveled up your body, not expecting the sudden aggression from him.

Holy ravioli cheesecake macaroni….The burning sensation is back on your cheeks. It’s only know you realized how rough and calloused his hands are. Moreover, they were warm which made you feel cozy. And goodness, his hands were fucking big. You can’t even almost see your hands anymore, just the tip of your fingers.

“U-Um…thanks for bringing me home, Bakugo-kun…” You broke the silence.

“No problem.”

You slowly loosen the grip on his hand, indicating that you need to leave. He got the idea and slowly loosened his grip as well. You were a bit — no, you were really sad that the warmth on your hand is gone.

“Uhh. Hey,” He suddenly spoke, placing one hand on his hips while the other is scratching the back of his neck.

“I ‘ont usually ask this type of shit, but wanna grab coffee with me or something?” He asked, looking away from your eyes with a mild blush.

You giggled. “What time and when?”

“Uhhh…tomorrow? After our shift?”

Your eyes went wide, not expecting to be that quick. You intentionally let out a huge smile, “That eager to see me?”

Bakugo flinched, getting irritated since he isn’t used to be teased on. “If you ain’t free then we can fucking just—” He stoped exploding when he heard you laughing.

Batump…

There it goes again.

Batump…

It’s the same beat and sound he heard while in the car.

Batump…

And suddenly, the world around him moved slowly. Background was blurry, but you were emphasized on his eyes. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, not understanding this new feeling. However, it’s a feeling he would want to feel again with only you.

“I would love to have coffee with you!!” You stopped laughing, wiping a happy tear from your eye.

Fucking shit. His heart skipped a damn beat again.

Many months has passed since your first meeting with Bakugo. Your cheeks still burn as ever when you see him while his heart beats faster and faster when he sees you.

The blond knew what the damn feeling was — love.

It took him months of declining, denying and refusing his feelings for you. He wanted to slap and choke his past self for waiting that damn long to be truthful with his feelings. As he mentioned, he doesn’t commit to a relationship because it’s tiring and time consuming. Hence why it was hard for him to conclude his end game with you.

Months ago, the blond had to consult with about Kirishima Eijiro, a former playboy, about his feelings. The redhead happily guided and counseled him about his concerns and worries. Though it was a painful moment for Kirishima since Bakugo kept denying it even further.

Mina was so close into smacking her blond friend for being so stupid, but Kirishima held his girlfriend back. He kinda wish he did not though….

Soon, it became too much to bear so Kirishima asked help from the rest of his friends to hopefully smack talk Bakugo through this.

“You’re complicated, you know that right?” Kirishima groaned loudly, putting on his firefighter suit.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in irritation, placing some equipment needed ok his suit. Iida shook his head in disapproval, “When will you finally come true with your feelings, Bakugo-kun?”

“I AM TRUE WITH MY FEELINGS!” He retorted, slamming his locker loudly.

“Really now? Denying your feelings for [Name] is your true feelings?” Kaminari sighed, removing his jacket and placing it inside his locker.

“I ain’t denying shit!”

Sero shook his head in disapproval. “C’mon, dude! I’ve seen the way you look at her. You have those twinkle twinkle stars on your eyes!”

“I fucking do not!”

“Hm. Leading [Name] on, Taking advantage of [Name], Cursing at [Name] out of no where, Does not apologize at first, Tries to win her back by apologizing, Plays around with girls, and cycle repeats,” Todoroki spoke, holding his chin with his slender fingers.

“….I believe that’s called a—” He continued speaking.

“—Red flag.” He snapped his fingers while looking at Bakugo.

Bakugo’s vein popped out on his forehead. “I AIN’T NO RED FLAG, ICYHOT!”

Todoroki tilted his head in confusion. “But according to this generation slang, you fit into the red flag category more rather than the green flag category.”

“You wanna fucking die, Half ‘n Half?”

Midoriya sweats, going in between an enraged Bakugo and a genuinely confused Todoroki. “Now! Now! Now! No need to get violent, Kacchan. I think what Todoroki-kun means is that you not being true with your feelings also breaks [Name]’s heart.”

The green-haired continued, “It’s obvious that [Name] likes you too yet you keep pushing her away with your mood swings. First, you were kind and gentle with her and next, you were cussing at her while making out with another girl. It’s a surprise that [Name] even stuck with you for so long. Kacchan, if you continue acting like this, you won’t even realize that she’s gone…”

“He’s right, bro…” Kirishima agreed. “Listen. Before Mina and I started dating, I didn’t realize that I love her so much till she stopped chasing after me. I’ve spent months having breakdowns and regrets when I didn’t choose to follow my heart to be with her. Don’t you remember what you told me during those months?”

Kirishima placed his finger tip on his chest. “Stop delaying shit. Just ask her out so I won’t have to worry for your dumbass.” The latter repeated the words Bakugo told him before.

Bakugo’s eyes only quivered, gulping down his throat as his fist clenched while thinking of you out of his reach.

A sweat dripped from Sero’s forehead so he sighed, “Alright then. Since you don’t like [Name], can I have her?”

The blond’s eyes went wild, grabbing Sero’s collar and pining him against the locker. “You wanna fucking die, Tape Face?”

Sero chuckled since he expected this reaction from him. “Seems like you found your answer, ain’t that right dumbass?”

He slowly loosen his grip on his collar, realizing his actual feelings with you. He fucking likes you. He began thinking why he keeps denying it — was it really his ego and pride to not date? If that’s the damn answer, he wanted to blast himself for being so stupid.

However, it was frustrating that it took a jealousy moment for him to realize. What’s even more annoying is that it was the one of his friends that riled him up.

“Yer fuckin’ annoying, damn it…” Bakugo cussed, glaring at Sero who’s grinning.

“To clear shit out, I ain’t after your girl. She’s yours. And it’s thanks to me your dumbass knows what you’re actually feeling.”

The blond rolled his eyes, “Shut up…”

Kirishima smiled, almost tearing up like a proud parent since his dumbass of a friend finally accept his feelings. He lunged at Bakugo, wrapping an arm on his shoulders with a smile. He laughed and ruffled through his hair, praising him which eventually made Bakugo annoyed.

Suddenly, the emergency alarm made a loud sound.

This signals that there has been a fire accident near by. It was their cue to roll out and get the job done. All of them got what they need from their lockers before slamming them shut. As they ran to their truck, Midoriya called for his friends.

“Guys…this fire emergency is actually happening in [Name]’s workplace….” He showed his messages of Uraraka spamming him to get his ass there and distinguish the fire.

Bakugo’s world stopped.

His pupils shrunk in fear, he can feel his body paling up as cold sweat dripped from his body. His body shivered slowly, feeling his gaze getting blurry. He clenched his fists as he practically sprinted to the truck.

His friends followed behind, jumping into their truck. Kaminari, their driver, stepped into the gas as the gate of their department opened. The rest began readying their equipment needed.

While doing so, Bakugo’s paranoia kept increasing. The negative thoughts of you in the fire is making him lose his mind. He even began thinking that he might not make it. An unfamiliar wetness began to form on his eyes, he was unsure what it is, but it was not a pleasant feeling.

As soon as they arrive, number of people were in the sidelines. The policemen were blocking their way, guarding the citizens while aiding the people who managed to get away from the fire.

Bakugo’s stomach dropped when he sees you not outside. He immediately saw Uraraka, crying and shivering with burns on her skin. The blond ran towards her and screamed, “ROUNDFACE! WHERE’S [NAME]!?!”

Uraraka faced him with lifeless eyes and pointed at burning flower shop.

He did not hesitate. He ran inside even with his crew mates yelling and trying to stop him. The blond ran through the blazing fire, rummaging through the debris. He sank deeper into the fire, the ashes covering his sight a bit. However, he soon saw a body lying down on the floor with wood crushing its body.

His eyes lit up in hope so he ran to that body. He began removing the heavy wood crushing the body. Soon, he cried in relief when he saw it was you.

Bakugo bent down, carrying your upper body against this thigh. His fingers removed the hair on your face, analyzing for injuries and others. When he confirmed you’re still breathing, he wanted to cry out of happiness. He lifted you up bridal style, carrying you out with caution.

Uraraka collapsed on the floor in relief when she saw you in Bakugo’s arms. The blond immediately brought you to their medic. He immediately removed his helmet to look at you properly. The latter held your cheeks with caution, shaking you a bit to wake up.

“HEY! Wake up! Oi! Wake up!” He yelled, still holding your cheeks.

“Bakugo! Move back!” Iida screamed, slamming the first aid down, and he moved closer to examine your condition.

The blond moved back, his eyes getting blurry again as that water sensation is back on his eyes. His hands found its way on his hair, gripping them like there’s no tomorrow. He watched as more people surround you, trying to stabilize your breathing and checking your pulse.

Kacchan, if you continue acting like this, you won’t even realize that she’s gone…

Bakugo can’t lose you. He just finally came true with his feelings. The blond began to shiver while a cold sweat surrounded his body. Everything was already a blur even sounds, it was only your body that was emphasized on his eyes.

Stop delaying shit. Just ask her out so I won’t have to worry for your dumbass.

Once again, he wanted to fucking blast himself for being so damn stupid. It took him months to realize that shit. Bakugo began regretting every pain he inflicted on you — the times when he got mad at you randomly, the times when he would degrade her in front of his flings, and the times when his mood swings got the best of him.

Tears dropped from his eyes, praying to God that he won’t take you. His tears didn’t stop when he saw no movement from you. With his blur gaze, he watched his friends run towards him in concern. They shook him, trying to snap him back to reality.

Soon, everything literally turned into a blur.

The rush to the hospital, the doctors inserting a needle inside you, the nurses checking your regulation was all a blur. Bakugo just went with the flow — wherever you went, he was there.

It’s been a whole day since the fire incident. You were sleeping on the hospital bed with IV fluid flowing inside your veins. The blond stayed by your side till the end, his knees popping up and down aggressively while his face is buried on his hands.

He prayed every second that you would wake up. He begged whatever God was up there to hear his prayers right now. He pleaded for a miracle to happen.

“B-Bakugo…?”

His head snapped forward to see your eyes open. His own eyes shone in joy, practically jumping from his seat. The blond tripped a bit, colliding his knee on the floor but didn’t seemed to care. He immediately tended to you first, holding your hand then your cheek.

“H-How are you..?” He asked, caressing your cheeks.

“I-I should be asking that…did you even sleep?” You chuckled, trying a bit harder to open your eyes more.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“Just thirsty…is there any water? Being in that fire got me so damn parched…” You joked, trying to lift his sad and mood. However in all honesty, it’s freaking you out a bit to see how sad and miserable he looks.

It’s not a bad thing or anything, but you were so used to see Bakugo so prideful and cocky. Seeing him in this state was a legit new thing for you.

With a lot of care and caution, he lifted your head a bit while bringing a glass of water near your mouth. A satisfied gulp engulfed you when you feel the wet sensation relieving your parched throat. You expressed your gratitude with the blond as he slowly placed your head down in the pillow.

“How bad was it?” You had to ask.

“Burnt to the ground. The Department even discussed that people living in that area should stay with someone else first. They decided that they should scout the area to investigate the cause. That fire accident was the 4th time this week.”

“I-Is that so?” You stuttered and uttered again. “Can you pass my phone? I’ll ask Uraraka if I can stay with her…”

Bakugo crossed his arms. “Um. About that…you’ll be staying with me…”

“I-Is that alright? I don’t want to intrude, especially if you’re bringing girls over…”

His eye twitched, cursing at you for being too kind. Not to mention, he finally became true with his feelings so the thought of other girls touching him became an unpleasant idea.

“It’s fine, you’re no—never a hinderance…I’ll consult with the nurse with your discharge…” He sighed, walking to the door to exit the room.

“W-Wait! At least tell me the price of the—” You didn’t finish your sentence since he closed the door already.

When he closed the door, Bakugo noticed Todoroki leaning on the opposite side of the door. His arms were crossed to his chest while his one foot is up in the wall, propping his knee out.

“You lied about the Department declaring that the people living in the area should stay with someone else…” He pointed out, grinning a bit to tease him.

The blond clicked his tongue, jaw clenched in annoyance as he looked away with a deep blush. “Shut the fuck up, Icy Hot…”

Afterwards, Bakugo finalized your bills and papers. The blond paid for everything already which annoyed you a bit. You were grateful that he took care of everything, but a heads up would be fucking nice. Throughout the day, he helped you with legit everything — from getting up from the bed to walking to his apartment.

As soon he settled you down on the sofa. He grabbed the remote to his smart TV, allowing you to pick any movie you want to watch. You shyly got the remote from his hand, but while getting it, his fingers traced your hand. With a gulp, you immediately retracted your hand from his.

He notified that he will be making dinner so he made his way to the kitchen. You can hear the sounds of knives across the kitchen. You can even smell the food he was making. It smelled really good which was no surprise since Bakugo was a good cook.

Later, he prepared the food on a plate and gave it to you on the sofa. You expressed your gratitude and began eating.

Bakugo took care of you for 3 days, attending to your needs. You didn’t ask for much though, you mostly sat on the sofa while watching movies. The blond did not let you do a single thing, he used your discharge from the hospital as an excuse.

“Bakugo, I’m feeling a lot better now…I think I should at least do something…” You said, feeling guilty that you are basically not doing anything.

“Not happening. You’re still—Stop using that as an excuse. I’m pretty sure I know when my own body is feeling fine. I missed work for 3 days since then! When will the Departement allow me to go back to my home?” You just had to ask.

“I lied about the Department…” He bluntly exclaimed, wanting to clarify that a long time ago.

Your eyes went wide. “W-What?”

“I-I lied about it because I became d-desperate…”

You took a deep breath, holding onto your sanity. “Desperate about what?” You questioned, trying to understand why he kinda kidnapped you for his own benefit.

“To be with you…”

You arched your brow. “To be with me?” You raised your voice a bit, crossing your arms to your chest.

“Y-Yes..fuck, I ain’t good with this, but I-I like you so I lied and some shit…” He confessed, looking down to the floor with a definite blush.

I like you. Those are the words you desired to hear. It’s no shock that you became the victims of love of Bakugo. The man has this charisma that you can’t avoid so you fell for him too. However, loving him was also your downfall.

The amount of times he has hurt you is never ending. All the sorries, the hope, the love became too much for you at some point. But, you were so lovesick for him so you forgave his sorry ass no matter what. You don’t care, you’ll do it over and over, even if he’s not a prince in your list.

This type of love has inflicted you pain so many times yet why you still looking for love?

“Bakugo, I get that you did this because you like me. I like you too, but…” You paused when you saw the light on his eyes.

“…I-I’m not sure if I want to be with you…”

His eyes widen as his shoulders tensed up in fear. He was about to speak, but you spoke first, “I like you, I really do, but I can never forget all the times you’ve hurt me. But, what really hurts me is when you kissed that girl in the party, what’s worse is when she degraded me, you did not do anything. How can I stay with a guy who wouldn’t put down his pride? How can you ensure that you’ll make me happy..”

Bakugo snapped, grabbing your forearms tightly and yelled, “I can make you happy!”

You chuckled, and a tear dropped from your eye. “Really? Because you’ve given me a lot of sad memories rather than happy ones.”

His face paled up, realizing the amount of times he has hurt you due to his ego. All those memories are finally getting back to him, it all flashed through him like the wind.

“I-I…” He stuttered, loosening his grip on your forearms. His hand slowly traveled down to your hands. He slightly touches your fingers, his head looking down in remorse.

“I’m sorry…” Those two words were short, but it held a greater context behind it. You can feel the sincerity with his words, it felt like every pain he has given you vanished. You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to decide an answer to his apology.

Should you listen to your brain and say that it’s over? It’s clearly a huge sign that he is a red flag in many aspects.

Or should you listen to your heart and give him another chance? It’s already a huge risk that you’re even speaking with him. Will he be worth it? Can attitudes and personality change?

You opened your eyes, already done deciding. So you spoke, “Bakugo.”

His breath hitched, holding your fingers tighter.

“It’s stupid, but I’ll give you another chance. However, you must work for it. I do like you, but I want to see effort first. I’m quite traditional so forgive me for asking such, but I need to see if you truly like me or this is just a fling of yours,” You confessed which gave him a spark of hope.

He smiled, his fingers holding your entire hands and bringing it up to your chest. “I’ll take it!!” He yelled enthusiastically.

You arched your brow, a chuckle left your mouth. “Just to let you know, I won’t make it easy for you. I’ll show you my flaws, my bratty attitude, and my own red flags. Let’s see how you’ll handle that, just like how I handled yours. Now, don’t look so relief just because you know I like you.”

He looked surprised for a moment, but his expression turned into an excited look. “That’s fucking fine. Ya can be as mean as you want to be, but ‘m fucking winning ya back.”

You scoffed playfully, “Please. I’m sure you won’t even last a damn day with my attitude.”

Bakugo grinned, his eyes burned with sensation, “Game fuckin’ on.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ possible continuation? or leave it as an open-ending for all?

#katsuki bakugo mha #bhna bakugou #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo angst #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #firefighter

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growling · 1 year ago

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*average self-proclaimed safe space tumblr blog voice* I soooooo support people with schizophrenia that must be so hard to you anyway I just saw some weird looking woman talking to herself right outside my house im fearing for my life should I call the cops. Yeah dude I support all the adhd havers in the chat just try to pay attention when I talk to you it's not that hard it's like the least you could do to show some regard for the other human being in front of you. Like it's fine to have memory problems but why did you forget this one thing in particular that was important to me do you like not care or anything you should try harder. I am one of the only real mental health advocates to still exist in this world I hear your struggles that being said I hope I never get to meet one of those irl sociopaths or people with aspd whatever they call them now they're so freaky and they can blend into society so well you might never know if you're actually face to face with an actual socio i mean person with aspd in the store absolutely one of my biggest fears what if they torture me in their basement. I absolutely empathize with all the people in here suffering from delusions as long as they like, don't actually show it or have one concerning me that'd be highkey uncomfy leave me out of this dude im not talking to you until you get help, anyway my fav character from my anime just presumably died but i still think they actually survived im sooo delulu lol. We should push for more wheelchair accessibility in our cities I agree but like it's so difficult to tell how many people are actually disabled and who are actually faking it, like, ummm why did that "wheelchair" "user" guy stand up just now cover blown lmaoo…. Yeah I support people with facial differences but I still have a right to be disgusted you can't control my emotions anyway can you tag your selfies as #body horror this deeply triggering to me. Speaking of triggering can you also pleaseee hide your scars or at least warn us beforehand jesus do you know how many people genuinely do not want to see it. Here is my extremely fast strobing lights and flashing gifset #epilepsy. Yeah I loveee girls with bpd beautiful princess disorder am i right they're so interesting the stigma sucksssss i'd love to get to be one's favourite person as long as they don't actually have any of those weird or violent symptoms or don't go into any of their "episodes" near me like that's a bit dramatic….. I deeply feel for those who had underwent narcissistic abuse from the hands of an npd I think my shitty ex boyfriend was a narcissist too tbh #surviving narcissism here are 10 signs you are dealing with a narcissist and here's a tutorial on how to trigger a narc crash to epically own them anyway does anyone else think we should start enforcing mandatory castration of all the newly diagnosed narcs like you know what happens when they reproduce right. But I am willing to support them as long as they go to therapy to get that fixed it's just you know. Anyway sometimes hospitalisation is fine if they're genuinely a danger to themselves like what do you want them to go live on the streets or actually get help?? I support all the people dealing with being a professionally diagnosed disordered system and I think it's sooooo terrible how literally 99% of the youth population nowadays is purposefully faking it for attention I did my research (1 minute google search, 2 minute r/fakedisordercringe scrolling session and consulting a single system that agrees with me). It's just not believable to me that there's really that many people with it isn't it supposed to be rare… Also are we really sure all those alleged people in their heads are really real or just their imagination maybe all of them are actually faking it huh food for thought. I am very uncomfortable with nonverbal high support needs ppl actually having sex like consent is supposed to be explicitly verbal only and, are we really sure they can even consent arent they like basically children. You can't call me ableist I'm literally autistic

#mine #actually autistic #actually npd #actually plural #ableism #sanism #npd stigma #bpd stigma #pluralmisia #<- gonna add on to these later i am. bad at tagging warnings #i needed this off my chest like. can these people stop #dont know how comprehensible this is im bad at articulating myself #long post

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leafostuff · 11 months ago

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Private Appreciation [FT. TripleS Nien]

Tags: smut, established relationship, slow stripping, body worshipping, cunnilingus (at least an attempt lol)

Author's Note: quite short but it was fun writing, really into Nien lately so i had to write something about her, it does count as my September upload

I have been feeling a bit down lately so it took me longer than expected to finally finish the smut (started writing in 20/8/24), i hope yall enjoy it even though the end may feel a bit rushed.

=================================

“Baby…im horny”

“Nien, what the fuck?”

Honest question: was this the appropriate time for such a saying?

you and your girlfriend Nien are cuddling on your couch, watching some random romcom movie on a saturday afternoon, you would've gone outside and had a normal date but today your laziness was next level so you decided to stay at home, it's not like it was gonna get any less hot.

And here’s Nien, telling you the most random thing you heard this week (and for the time you know her, she said a lot of random things) during a movie where it's not like there is a sex or kissing since its was only the first 25 minutes of the movie, so there wasn't anything to trigger her.

“What do you mean ‘what the fuck’?” She whines while her eyes look as tired as ever. “I am feeling hot, wet and it's sure as hell not making it easier for me with all of the sexual tension going between them” she complains while pointing at the screen.

“They are just… flirting” you say, a bit confused

“And?! I can tell 30 minutes from now they are banging” she annoyingly added while her hand goes to grab some popcorn, cutely munching on it.

“Nien are…is it that-”

“NO ITS NOT THAT TIME OF YOUR MONTH” she responded, now angry at you. “I am just horny, and wet, and i need you RIGHT NOW,” she explains.

“In the middle of the movie though?? I already paid fo-” You wanted to ask when suddenly Nien leans forward to capture your lips and quickly releasing, leaving you surprised.

“Please jagi…?”

Its unfair how weak you are to her, the pleading puppy eyes that look at you with glimmer in her pupils, her innocent and sweet smile that will one day will be the cause of your death, and her nickname for you that sends tingles to your brain to switch into ‘yes’ mode almost automatically for her.

You sigh in defeat, its not like you couldve changed her mind anyways.

“Ok babe…lets do it” you say

“Yayyyy, thank you baby” she responds, pulling you into a tight embrace. “You are the best, you know that?”

“Brat” is the only word you can think to yourself when you see how happy she is as you cant help yourself but lean in and mesh your lips with hers engaging in a slow, lazy yet very sensual makeout session.

It's quite clear how much both of you enjoy this, making hums and quiet whimpers in between each kiss while your hands roams around each other’s back. Slowly you could feel Nien slowly fall into the couch with you joining her as now you are on top of herz still focusing on the kiss.

Release yourself from the kiss and look at her. Wearing a pink tube top that shows her smooth belly and tiny navel in their full glory paired with denim jeans that make her look more curvy than she is, her eyes look directly into yours with a mix of excitement and arousal, so you ask.

“Bed?”

“No, on the couch” she answers, “don't wanna move” she lazily said with a wide smile, with that logic you won't look for any arguments with her.

“Okay babe… what do you want me to do?” You ask, in the end, it's her wish to do this so who are you to not let her have it her way?

“My tummy…kiss it” she cutely pleads, you know how important foreplay is for Nien as in her eyes, foreplay is the key for having the best time. So nod with a smile before lowering your face to be parallel to her belly, take one last look at her before planting your first kiss barely above her navel, sending tingles directly to her brain.

“Ngh..yes…” she hums in excitement while closing her eyes, seeing her reception to your first kiss was good you continue peppering kisses all around her navel. Sometimes giving a teasing lick that makes her elicit a quiet moan.

“My pants…Ah-baby…” she breathes

“What about them babe? I can't read your mind” You teasingly ask, knowing exactly what she wants you to do with them but hearing her say it is part of the fun for you.

“Nghh…take them off” she instructs as you oblige, your fingers working diligently as each button of her jeans that you pop, you place a soft kiss directly to her belly button, after the last button is undone you lower her denim clothing down her thighs, revealing her white panties with a visable stain in the middle.

“You weren't joking when you said you were wet”

“shut up” she moaned, giving you a light smack on the head. “take the panties… off too baby".

“Should I continue kissing?” A simple question in which Nien just nodded, your hands now went to her panties, sliding them off slowly, letting the friction drive her insane as your girlfriend takes her hands and plants them on the back of your head.

Eventually, you leave her completely naked waist down, letting you see her soft thighs and her glistening sex without any obstruction as you could feel yourself get harder by the view. “What now babe?” You ask, waiting for your next orders.

“One hand on my thigh… and-” she stops for a second to release a small moan. “Kiss higher” It's hard for her not to sound needy, especially when you pleasure her midriff with only your lips and tongue.

But, her wish is your command.

So let your palm rest on her right thigh, knead and massage it to your heart's content, all to amplify her pleasure from you tenfold. Meanwhile, your lips travel up from her midriff, eventually stopping near the in-between of her two mounds.

A glance at your girlfriend and you know exactly what she needs as your free hand holds the hem of her top, slowly taking it off revealing no bra and instead a pair of boobs neither too small or too big, just the perfect size for you to let your face dive into the gap between her tits, savoring their sweet taste.

“YES…more….” Nien whines a breathy moan while you alternate between each mound, kissing and licking all around her nipples while her hands get inside the back of your shirt, gliding across your back in an attempt for her to be as close to you as possible.

This goes on for a while, you kiss your girlfriend’s entire body while she instructs you, telling you exactly how she wants to feel good from you, each correct action you follow causes Nien to moan loudly but eventually she pushes you away from her tits.

“What happened?” you ask, confused by the sudden push as she looks at you with a horny smirk.

“I want you to eat me out oppa”

Pause, Nien letting you eat her pussy out is something quite rare for her to suggest since she always felt it was a bit uncomfortable for her. Disagreeing with her request would be foolish of you so look down at her glistening pussy, waiting for you to devour it like your next dinner and let your face close between her thighs.

One last look at her grinning smile and you start

“Yess…” she hisses, your first lick sends tingles to her brain, causing her to wrap her legs around your head, meanwhile her hands grab your hair, trying to not lose herself in the haze, after that you let yourself run wild on her inner thighs and wet pussy with long licks and kisses.

She is still not close however, it is just the beginning for the both of you. So increase your pace slightly to raise the volume of Nien’s breathy moans let her thighs squash your face signaling how horny she is

“I'm close baby…” it's not hard to tell, how her moans are getting higher pitch, how her thighs are clamped around you and how her grip on your hair is harder, it may hurt but you don't mind, both of you are close to your high.

Eventually you let yourself enjoy the main course since Nien finally let herself go, her wetness flowing out of her as your mouth salivates her sweet taste, meanwhile her left hand gropes her left breast to amplify her own pleasure audible by her sensual moans

Eventually her climax comes to an end, her last wave of cum comes out of her pussy into your mouth. Raise your head and see Nien, a panting mess after the high she has been feeling all this time as now she also rises up from her lying position now seated near you, hands wrapped around you and leans in to kiss your right cheeks.

“Thank you, i feel much better now”

“Anything for you babe” you respond, returning the favor with a kiss of your own. You were helping your girlfriend find her clothes when suddenly you heard sounds of moans coming from the TV.

You forgot the movie was playing the entire time, the main couple were now making out, half naked and ready to begin their own endeavours for their orgasm.

“I CALLED IT!!”

=================================

Hope you have a good day leafies

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #triples #nien triples #nien smut #triples smut #male reader smut #x male reader #kpop x reader

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moonieandi · 8 months ago

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corners and walls | silco x f!reader

Summary: the grief of loss shakes apart the friends of four, leaving silco and her to pick up the pieces of the complex affliction between them

warnings (TW): slight spoilers for arcane season ii//act ii, swearing, mentions of death, alcohol mentioned, general trauma, violence (implied)

tags: established relationship, honestly for once NOT dumbasses, angst… comfort?, affection

notes: i think this is a oneshot. Im not completely sure (im kinda maybe sure) that this is a oneshot… im allowed to write about my interests! (pt 11 of snapshots in my drafts rn its a complicated ch im wrestling w myself about posting)--- but im in arcane brainrot…. I love dissecting it and unfortunately for all of u i LOVE silco……… hes a questionable character…… but the way the action of season ii is going i need something familiar in my life while looking at (doomed) victor/jayce (heavy sighs) — if u don’t wanna read i understand this is a moonie want (and need) — love youuuuuu <3

word count: 2.6k

| masterlist |

There were corners of her he did not know.

Folds of her linens and clothes he moved to uncover in the past months. She was quiet, silent in the visage he had drawn of her, but stubborn (something familiar) and something of great consistency to him.

It was hard to quantify her, easier to dismiss. She was not special. Of common stature and of common shape. Plain colors adorned her closet, plain and even temperament, plain tone, and of plain face.

That is what they would say when uncovering her past. Now that she was part of this mess, part of the mess he had sheltered her into (part of the mess Vander had shepherded her into). The dream of a larger nation, of overarching architecture and structure and reasoning. A voice, they figured between the four of them, a voice that would listen and learn and speak loudly in the face of the injustices they had survived and crawled through.

But he figured they would only comment on her appearance, perhaps. Of her coal stained shoes and the dirt under her picked nails.

They would not know the woman behind it all. Would not know of Felicia either (now). Not with the violence inflicted on the bridge. Not with the weapon staining his hand (an accident he had sworn to them both).

He knew of the woman before him though, knew of her mind and spite and grit. Knew of her work and the lengths and dredges she had come from. Knew of her grief. Something he sequestered in the back of his mind. Survive survive survive. She had once compared Zaun’s residents to roaches. Unkillable, dirty, and strikingly annoying. She meant it in an endearing way, she had to. She was a roach too.

It was a different kind of insect, a different animal, that drove him to draw a gun on the woman he loved so dearly. He wouldn’t have thought to wrap a finger around the trigger if it weren’t for the feral instinct of preservation. He could discern danger like a sense, it came as easily as smell, as sight, as breathing. But it had him stuttering now, seeing her on the other end of his warranted violence (was it warranted?).

She was a structure of poise, like usual. Another reason to keep the gun drawn to her. The silence in her acceptance of his decision. He knew though, that if they both survived the grief of his mistake she wouldn’t forgive him- never forgive him for registering her as a threat. How could she be?

He had been waiting for the retaliation. He hid away in corners and along dark walls in wait. He waited for Vander to seek a sort of violence in him, the last violence the large man would ever do. Seek blood in the name of their shared friend, for the orphans he made. He was sick, sick with the thought of it most days. But composed, up until this point. Up until Vander used his last facilities to shake his roach of a mind from the corners of the nation they once dreamed of in the depth of caves and between stone-cold walls. She was it, was that thing that would make him waver, and he knew that.

She had her palms raised, hands shaking. But composed, as usual. It was hard to shake the structure of her. She was rarely surprised by violence, much less the plights of men. She wasn’t quick to anger, wasn’t weepy at the thought of destruction, and stood as strong as cavernous walls, sturdy against the infrastructure of the Undercity. He admired that, he loved that.

She had only shaken a total of three times, in front of him. Only bent her head and neck and bowed before him in emotion all of three times. Imprinted in his mind, the cascade of her hair, the shaking of her shoulders, and the sightless grief in her eyes.

The first was the first time he truly saw her. She consumed herself with work. Whether it be their laborious job in the mines or the turmoil of finding justice in an unjustified upbringing. She had broken one day, that very first day.

She was a sightless, unknowing girl in the crowd. But something about her hunched structure had struck him differently that day. He was younger then, only twelve. He knew of empathy but had yet to experience it. But he was shackled by it then, that day, when he first saw her. Hands bloody through her miners' gloves, shoes holey from the trek to and fro. She was younger, by a year or two. It was not unusual to find distressed children in the Undercity, perhaps more common than people would like to comment. Children, like they were, grew along the walls and innards of the city, meshed into stony hallways and bridges, faded into noise and paint of the background. It should go unnoticed by most, a crying child. But it struck him differently, then.

The second, the day she confessed unfounded feelings. Years in the making, the dredges of the relationship between them. Even now, he could not comprehend the strings that were strapped between them. It was more than stuttered words and whispered confessions. It felt undying between them, an acceptance.

She had been confused at the progression of their relationship, as was he. No reference to be found between them of a structure to hold their relationship. They took it in stride, took and molded their wants between them to breathe easily. Wind through a metal chime, ultimately peaceful, but prone to knots. Their strings overlaying, knotting, tightening. He had never thought to unweave them when he fled. The tug of knots and her heart led her back to him anyway.

The third time would be now. The shake of her hands and the draw of her legs. The shimmering tears rounding along her chin. She was beautiful. She never liked when he said so, but she was captivating. He didn’t enjoy seeing her cry, it unsettled a deep dark part of him. One he would crush and stamp down, that domineering possessive part of him. He thinks of drawing the gun to his foot, squeezing the trigger at his incompetence and attitude to make her cry (this was the second time now, he swore, two strikes in the threads between them).

“Please.” She never pleaded. “Please Silco, come home.” The grit of her teeth against a stutter, the shuddering of her breath in the cavities of her chest. Grief, unfounded.

“You know I can’t, dear.” Too quick for his liking, he responded. He had backed himself into a dark corner, grown leaves into walls, and hid in shadows of the Undercity bridges now. It would have to be without her though, he grieved again. He had sunk so far into the stones, in the murky water of the Undercity, it wouldn’t be safe for her to follow.

“I’m sorry.” An afterthought. A forethought. What he apologized for was lost between the notch of string on his belt and the thread leading back to her shirt. Was it for Felicia? His grief? Or was it for leaving her? (Was it for the children? For the young girls that remember his visage in Felicia’s home? For the blue-haired pixy girl that asked for him between shattered bombed dreams? The girls she shushed and rocked and cried to sleep?)

She liked to think it was for all of it. Her stupid heart forgave him anyway.

She was far from naive, far from gullible.

She knew of men and violence and dark waters by the ripe age of nine. Something she would teach Felicia’s daughters now too. It was why she lived, why she breathed still, her unwillingness to bend and snap her neck in the face of shadows and men. But she had forsaken that for him, craved a subjugation in his waters, and wished to follow him up ivy walls and read the ink scrawled on his stupid notebooks. Wanted to breathe life into his ideas and into Zaun. She’d follow him into the dark, knowingly leaving the unsaught dawn behind her.

She only bent because she knew the power between them was equal though. She was sure of exactly three things when it came to Silco.

The first being that he was flippantly deep. That he thought not in breaths but in paragraphs. That he could not speak but write for hours on end, that he could comprehend and listen and swallow and accept, and that he did not react in haste. He was full of purpose and determination. It was more than endearing, almost blindingly inspiring that he wished for not better but only ever the best.

The second being that he was a perfectionist. That his scripture was scrawling and hard to read, but comprehensive. That he enjoyed messes only because he enjoyed the meticulousness of planning and cleaning up. That he loved the structure of homes and corners of houses and the craft of cleaning something that was truly his.

The third being that he loved of equal measure, that she was most sure of, could recognize in the dead of the night, in the depth of caves. That he was severely serious when it came to the strings strung between them, and not because of the disorder of them. He would have color-coded, would have untwisted knots, and lengthened rope if he wanted to. But that was the truth of it, that he was the farthest from a perfectionist when it came to love. That he didn’t measure distances and didn’t note words between them, because he threw away the scale of them long ago. Pulled her close, twisted words between them, and sang and hummed to her in crooks of her neck. That he wished for her continued safety above anything, and far above his own. She knew for a fact, was sure of it as she was of the red-pitched brick outside the bar. It was as cumbersome as the smoggy sky, but as easy to swallow as any dark liquor. That he loved her in dark corners that made him.

But there were dark corners of her he did not know of yet.

That the consuming grief of her long-time friend sent her into a rage, that the stabilization and measurements between them fell and broke when he was not there for her to confide in. She wished above all else that he had stayed, that he had faced Vander’s anger. She had stayed, breathed, and swam the storm of their mutual friends' grief. Stayed for the children and for their grief also. Did that make him a coward?

“For what.” She asks, the caverns of her lungs shaking now. Her hands weak, falling to her side. “Don’t say that, don’t say that if you don’t know what for.” It was senseless and miscalculated of him to say sorry. He is so purposeful, so full of preserverations. She just wished he did not feel he had to preserve himself in the face of her.

The gun shakes now, dropping to his side, his finger poised along the trigger still. The depth of the scarcity of her image still shook him. It had been weeks, what felt like months since he’d seen her face.

He had seen her in crowds, seen the children marking her frame and clutched in her arms. It shook him to not wake up to her face anymore, much less her smell or her frame or her voice. Her face though, the visage of tears and the weakness of her arms, awoke something in him.

He had to remember himself, why he left. To build a nation, to structure a future for her. For the new shadows of Felicia that followed in her wake now.

“Everything.” He meant. “For everything, my love.”

She sighs deeply, tired. Her head tilting to the left on instinct. Powder made a home in the crook of her neck most nights now.

It was striking to see him. She dreamed of him between nightmares and dreamless sleep. Dreamed of waking up to him, of the quirk of his lips and the crook of his nose. The smell of him and the warmth of his embrace. The fold of his jacket around her shoulders and the breath of a kiss along her brow. When she woke she could not decide the ups and downs of walls, couldn’t decide if it was a tortuous nightmare to be awake or to be asleep.

It strikes her when he steps forward from the shadowed corner she had backed him into. His hair is longer, his eyes deeper and darker, his clothes caked with dirt. She thinks to be insistent again. Thinks of bringing him home despite Vanders’ anger, despite the grief they shared between them. But wasn’t Silco grieving also?

He approaches with stuttering steps. Unsure of the length of strings between them, grasping her to tie her tight again to him, when he reaches for the curve of her cheek and jaw.

“Don’t cry.” He commands for the third time in her life, sweeping his thumb and fingers along her wet cheeks. She shutters around it, breathing between the mess of string and space between them.

“Good.” He hums, bringing his fingers to the nape of her neck, curving her neck up in revelation. He bends his own in subjugation to her, curving his shoulders and bowing to her visage to meet familiarly between them. Curving his slight frame and lips against her own warmth, the common parts of her beat faster at the affection. It burst between them, the movement of endearment and familiarity. She forgot about this above all, missing the plainer parts of life you don’t know to miss until they are gone.

She’d miss him again and again, would string along strings and set fires in dark paths and along walls searching for him. They’d say goodbye now, and say goodbye again once she traced him back down to the cobblestone he had slid into and out of. She’d look for him in architecture and in the children of the Undercity, she’d swear and kiss away it all now, though. Anything to push off the knots between them, anything to stop a stuttering goodbye between them that was as inevitable as her own death. A thousand of them, these tiny goodbyes, she’d take though, if it meant he lived.

Lived farther down below than she’s ever been. But then again, there were corners and foothills in her mind he did not know of, yet.

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane silco #silco #silco x reader #arcane imagine #arcane fanfic #lmaoooo sorry yall

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th3sungod · 1 month ago

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fic idea "Muscle Memory"

Bucky barely has any memories of being James Barnes, besides things he's read and flashes of the war in specific. Nothing of the suave sweet-talking skirt chaser that would always overshare how his nights went to Steve, just to see the man blush.

He's moved into the compound after being cleared by the Avengers, under a probationary period for a year until he's actually considered a free man. With no trigger words, he's a blank slate.

He knows, vaguely, that he had a relationship with Steve, but neither mention it. But he remembers sharing bedrolls in Europe, and fleeting kisses while bo other privates were around.

It's out of nowhere, really, when he replies to something Steve says with a simple "Sure, pal" or automatically retort with their whole 'punk' and 'jerk' shtick. Steve smiles at him all soft and sweet whenever he does it, but it wasn't really a conscious thing and he's not quite sure where it came from.

Slowly, his forced neutral accent starts to slip whenever he's around Steve -- both dipping into old Brooklyn in a way that surprises some of the other Avengers. Bucky even starts to flirt with him, all syrupy sweet comments that are half-teasing and half something he can't quite name.

With the words coming back, he has flashes of memories too. Less dissociative, being that he can see them out of his own eyes and remember exactly how it felt on his tongue to say it. Whenever he says something a tad too familiar, he remembers the last time he'd spoken a similar sentiment.

And then he says something stupid, he can't quite remember what it was, but the memory is of Steve rolling his eyes and telling him he should watch his mouth " 'fore his ma hears ", but it tries too hard to be annoyed and Bucky from the memory laughs and kisses Steve. He doesn't take the threat seriously, and Steve was obviously petulant about the whole thing, but slotted up to Bucky nicely, with an expression Modern-Steve has far too often.

Memory-Bucky knows that look. It's the one Steve tries to hide around peers and neighbours, the one that could mean getting caught doing something not even god could forgive them for -- which Steve doesn't believe, but Bucky always says they're just as good as sinners.

It's love. Pure, unavoidable, love that Bucky realizes Steve still holds for him.

And some that he might still harbor in tandem.

All because of some useless flirting.

im not gonna write this but if someone does please dm/tag me i so wanna read something like it 🙏. anyways hope yall enjoyed lol

#mcu fandom #stevebucky #stucky #captain america steve rogers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers headcanon #bucky barnes headcanon #originally had the idea for stevebuckytony but it was mostly angst so this is somewhat more fluffier lol #mcu headcannon #the winter soldier

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revasserium · 11 months ago

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hi! I've been reading your opla!zoro stuff and I wanted to tell you your writing is so gorgeous! it's truly breathtaking, you're really talented ❤️ i've looked through your prompts tag, im not sure how requesting works, but could I ask for "edge of falling" or "the spaces between us" (whichever one you like the most) with zoro and fem!reader? i'm a goner for longing and feelings realization and the prompts give me those vibes, but i'm sure anything you write will be lovely <3

reqs are open!

the edge of falling

opla!zoro; 7,475 words; fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, passing mentions of: cult!, physical violence, & trauma/cult-programming, ex-cult member!reader, strawhat!reader, traumatized!reader, protective!zoro, healing from past trauma, learning to trust etc, angst with a happy ending!, a metric TON of plot

summary: "Lie to me," Time said to Love; Love smiled and said, "I promise, I'll never let you slip away."

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! i uhm idk what happened with this fic tbh. there's def uh -- longing of SOME kind here??? welp. pls read the tw list! there's some dark-ish content in this. but i promise it ends well u__u

prelude: in which a fox teaches you to speak

Time is the greatest liar, so you are told, over and over and over. For the longest time, you think it’s the only truth you’ll ever know.

But we will live forever…

So long as you do the things you’re told. So long as you make the Fox happy. So long, so long, so long.

There is no way to mark the passage of time in the compound; with no sunlight to guide the way, you are left to other, more primal ways of keeping track — that elusive, silver-fish creature — time — always slipping through your fingers when want to hold on most.

You measure it in wounds, in the time it takes for a fresh wound to seal over, for the scab to break and reveal the soft, tender pink flesh beneath. You measure it in gulps of water, in bites of cold food, in the droplets of artificial rain that they let fall through the ceiling sometimes. You measure it in rewards too, in long baths and hot meals, in the evenings when the Fox would tell you stories in his low, lilting voice instead of leaving you in his seething silences.

And he is ever so good with stories. If you stay still and keep quiet, and let his voice wash over you like a hungry tide across a rain-starved beach, you can feel the words seeping into your bones, ringing out till they feel like nothing but god’s given truth.

As long as you’re good… I promise I’ll make you live forever.

Like this, you learn the weapon of words, the power of speech, how to listen for lies, and how to tell them, and tell them, and tell them.

The Fox is good at lying; you’ll just have to learn to be better.

act i: yet another sad, desperate soul

Roronoa Zoro has never been a man of many words, but it would be remiss to say that he isn’t a man of his word — you see, when he does speak, he speaks with intention. And always, with conviction.

“Hey. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, then, is the first lie he tells you.

“Liar.” You spit out the word, drawing back, your body a tangle of livewire nerves, your eyes darting back and forth, an entire life’s worth of fight and flight caught on the hair-pin trigger of his breath as he jolts back slightly and blinks at you.

“Y-you — you can’t know that,” you say, your voice still ragged. But Zoro sees it for the attempt it is — an olive branch, however tentatively extended. And he takes it, wordlessly.

He nods once, reaching out to help you up. The compound crumbles around you, and you unconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, as if to hold yourself together, to keep from shattering into a hundred million tiny little shards of pain and mistrust.

“The fox-guy’s dead! But it looks like this whole island’s gonna blow!” Nami races out of the massive, temple-esque structure just as it starts to collapse from the inside out.

Luffy slingshots passed, cackling as Sanji and Usopp bring up the rear. On the Merry, Robin and Chopper are waiting, and the second Zoro manages to hoist you onto the main deck, the ship careens off into the dark tumult of waves.

You skitter away the minute Zoro’s arm slips from around your waist, and he turns to find you pressing yourself back against the railings, staring at them all with wide eyes, your expression caught halfway between fear and consternation. He takes half a step back, crossing his arms just as Luffy bounds forward with a bright, unassuming smile.

“Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” He makes to slap one of your shoulders but you duck out of the way, chewing on your bottom lip.

Robin clears her throat gently and offers you a smile, “We’re not going to hurt you.”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze darting between them like a trapped animal, but after another beat of stillness (punctuated only by Nami swearing softly to herself as she steers the Merry around a particularly difficult formation of rocks), your entire body seems to soften, and Zoro uncrosses his arms again, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his blades.

“Th-thank you…” you bob your head once, swallowing hard passed chapped lips and a raw throat. Your white linen dress is stained with blood and dirt, a tear at your collar making it slip from your shoulder.

“’S alright now, darlin’ — how bout we run you a nice, hot bath? I could cook you just about anything y’like. Fancy a drink as well? I think a bubbly would be good for a —”

“Lay off, cook.” Zoro cuts Sanji off with a scoff, barring Sanji’s approach with an arm in the gut.

You watch them with dark eyes, your expression curiously blank.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?” Chopper offers.

You jump a little at his voice, piping up from your left side. You glance at Zoro once before looking back at Chopper and nodding.

Sanji tucks his hands into his pockets and watches as Chopper leads you beneath the deck, Zoro following a few steps behind. He lights a cigarette as soon as the trap door clanks shut.

A beat of silence, and then —

“Wow, that island really, really sucked!” Luffy says, turning back to his crew.

Sanji lets out a puff of smoke as Usopp slumps down against the main mast with a groan.

“You can say that again.”

“What happened?” Robin asks.

Sanji sighs, shaking his head, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

Below deck, Chopper dabs at your wounds with expert ease as you sit very still on the kitchen island and Zoro watches from the sofa, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“These surface wounds aren’t that bad but…” Chopper trails off, his eyes running over the network of old scars that mar your skin, layers and layers of them — down your arms and along your torso.

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice smooth as polished marble, “I’m —” you swallow, “I’m fine.”

And if it weren’t for the hiccup, the slight hitch in your breath, you would’ve been utterly convincing. Your expression is flat, your voice, even more so.

Across the room, Zoro makes disbelieving noise, “If it hurts, just say so. Chopper’ll fix it.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” you say again, tugging at the sleeve of your torn shift, your tone now a bit more honest, your words tired and resigned. Zoro looks to Chopper, who gives a faint nod of acquiescence before Zoro stands up and jerks his head towards the door.

“Cook’s right — you should wash up before dinner.”

You follow him down the hallway, through a small door that leads into a washroom that’s much cleaner than one might expect a ship’s bathroom to be. A large, wooden soaking tub sits in the middle of the room, and a clean change of clothes has already been laid out on a bench next to the bath.

Zoro grunts after he takes a once-over of the room, satisfied that all’s in order, and makes to leave.

You tug at his sleeve, head lowered.

“Can you…” you lick your lips, “can you stay?”

Zoro glances down at your fingers curled into his shirt sleeve before his eyes flick up to find your face. You’re looking at some indiscriminate point over his left shoulder, but your lips are trembling and your jaw is set.

He lets out a long breath, slowly twisting his body towards the room and you.

“Sure.”

He makes a show of turning around to face the door as you slip off your clothes and sink into the steaming bath water. A long exhale and the light slosh of water is all the indication he gets that it’s safe to turn back around.

He leans himself against the door, his swords propped on his shoulder, his head lolled back, his eyes closed.

He listens to the soft sounds of the water, to the faint splashes as you rub the grit and grime from your skin, inch by inch.

“We were only allowed to bathe as a reward for doing a good deed.”

Your voice makes him open his eyes, his gaze focusing in on the shape of you, nearly submerged in the bathtub, your hair slick and sticking to your pale shoulders. Even in this dim lighting, he can see the patterns your scars make against your skin. Water glimmers along the contours of your face as you run your palms along your cheeks, rubbing at them till they’re ruddy with color.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Quit bein’ so rough,” he moves forward without thinking, reaching out a hand to help you with some of the more stubborn pieces of dirt but he pauses, realizing how utterly still you’ve gone.

You stare at him for a long moment before relaxing back into the water and shifting towards the edge of the tub to allow him better access.

He runs a callused thumb along your cheekbones, wiping away the remaining dirt there.

“What was a ‘good deed’?” he asks, letting the tips of his fingers skim the warm water’s surface.

You shrug, “Mostly anything that made Mr. Fox happy… so all of us would —” you take another breath, your hand opening and closing beneath the surface of the still bath water, “we’d spend all our waking hours trying to think of something — anything — that’d please him. No matter how small… no matter how… terrible.”

“This Mr. Fox… what was his deal, anyway?”

You stare down into the dark water, now rapidly cooling from warm to lukewarm.

You take a deep breath, lifting a hand out of the water to distort the image of your ghostly reflection.

“He… was a liar. Except… he could make all his lies sound like the truth.”

“It was uncanny, really,” Sanji says, now at full throttle in the kitchen prepping for dinner service, Usopp lounging on sofa, his feet propped up on the hanging table.

Chopper and Robin both frown.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks.

“It was like… the guy could say anything and make it sound like the truth — even though you knew somewhere inside you that it can’t be real. Like — he could tell you the sky was green and every single part of you would believe him, even though you’re outside and starin’ up at the sky.”

“Yeah! Like he said I’d never be able to beat him and… for a second, I kinda almost believed him!” Luffy offers, munching on a bushel of apples and spitting out the seeds.

Robin’s brows furrow, tapping at her chin with a thin finger.

“It sounds like the Uso-Uso no Mi…”

“Ugh, what a weird, scary power…” Chopper shudders, shaking his head, his tiny hooved hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “I’m sure it’d mess with people’s heads!”

“It sure did. But he also used it to feed false information to the Marines,” Nami says, slipping through the half-opened door to join the rest of the crew on the sofa, “ran a series of taverns that just so happened to be situated in major Marine towns.”

Sanji glances up from a huge, steaming pan of paella, a cigarette caught between his teeth.

“So what was his end goal then? Just to fuck over the Marines?”

Back in the bathroom, you run your fingers along the edge of the tub as if playing an invisible piano.

“Power, domination… I don’t think he had a goal or purpose… I think… he just got off on it…”

Your voice is light, conversational, almost as if you were talking about the weather. But Zoro sees the glazed look in your eyes, the tightness at the edges of your lips.

“You called me a liar,” he says, reaching into the tub and flicking you lightly with a bit of water.

You blink, a smile threatening the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah… guess I did.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

He pulls out his hand and wipes it on a towel, leaning back to stare at you.

You shrug, “Sometimes… people lie to others, and sometimes, people lie to themselves. It’s the ones we tell ourselves that are always the most convincing.”

“I don’t lie. ‘Specially not to myself.”

You let out a tiny laugh, “But I guess… sometimes, if you believe in something hard enough… it’ll just start to be come the truth.”

There’s a note of… something in your voice that Zoro doesn’t like, but he can’t put a name to the feeling so he stays quiet as you continue the laborious work of scrubbing your skin clean, till all the water in the tub’s gone cold.

The rest of the evening passes as most evenings on the Merry do after a big fight — with a lot of food and even more booze. With music and laughter, and new crew member, sitting in the corner, watching mostly and smiling occasionally. No one pushes you, though Sanji does make a valiant effort in getting you to admit to your favorite foods, and Luffy tries two or three times to drag you into the more raucous celebrations (mostly involving way too much meat being roasted on a spike).

No one questions the way Zoro never wanders too far.

No one questions the way your eyes track him around the room, or how, even when Robin and Nami finally get a laugh out of you, you still instinctively searched for Zoro’s figure till you’ve found it in the other corner, a bottle caught between his lips, his eyes half-shut but his gaze caught on you like a fish to a seaman’s hook.

act ii: everything and nothing

A week passes, and then another. And you slowly, but surely, come out of your shell — it’s a strange sort of blossoming, the way you reveal yourself in shards and pieces, jagged and jarring. The shrapnel bits of your personality peaking out amidst the flotsam and jetsam of all your manifold defense mechanisms.

You’re a brilliant liar, but even better at spotting a lie, and it’s a thing that none of the crew had ever really thought about until you’d come along, casually poking holes in their daily deceits.

“Mm! These pancakes are perfect! Just the way I like them!”

“The new dress looks beautiful, Nami.”

“I absolutely did not finish the last bag of popcorn… Luffy did it!”

You clear your throat.

“Okay fine… the pancakes were really good but… but I like them… sweeter.”

“The dress is… well, everything looks gorgeous on you, of course, you know that Nami! But — the color… clashes just a tiny little bit with your… hair.”

“I might’ve uh… taken a few bites out of the popcorn bag… last night… but I was keeping watch and I needed to keep my energy up!”

Robin titters, a sphinx-like smile spreading across her lips.

“Apparently, 60% of people lie at least once every 10 minutes,” she says, casually taking a sip of orange juice as Zoro runs through his daily training regime, seemingly unbothered by the chaos currently taking place on the main deck regarding the “popcorn incident”.

“Dunno why people bother,” Zoro says, working through a set of single-armed burpees.

“I suppose it’s just human nature. We want other people to like us… so we say what we think they might want to hear, instead of what we really think. It’s harmless, mostly,” Robin remarks, leaning back against a white planter box, basking in the shade of the tangerine trees.

“Till it isn’t,” Zoro says, finishing up his workout and pushing himself up for a long stretch. He casts his eyes once more towards where you’re now laughing as Usopp tries to think of some new tall tale to tell.

It only takes you half a second to turn your head, and Zoro wonders at the kind of life you might’ve led to make you so sensitive to another person’s gaze. What must’ve happened to warrant this kind of alertness? But then again, he’d been a hunter long enough to know exactly what being hunted looks like.

He caught a glimpse of it at the compound but — still, his fingers itch toward his swords, his jaw clenches tight enough for Robin to cock her head and raise a brow.

“Yes… until it isn’t…” she echoes, her eyes also trailing towards you.

Zoro holds your gaze for a second before rolling his shoulders and looking away, squinting at the far horizon.

“Oi. Looks like trouble.”

Robin straightens, and a second later, Chopper sounds the alarm from the crow’s nest.

“Marines! Marines!”

There is the shink of swords being drawn, the gentle echo of Robin’s voice as her arms multiply. There’s canon fire and a lot of yelling. But at the end, there’s only bodies and blood and the tattered remains of the Marine’s ship, bobbing in the stained sea below them.

“Should we go after them?” Sanji asks, lighting up a cig, watching as the tiny emergency boat rows off into the distance.

“Nah. We’ll be alright!” Luffy says, wiping a hand across his nose.

Zoro turns towards you, sheathing his swords.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice immediately taking on an unctuous sheen that makes Zoro take a step closer.

“You hurt anywhere?” he runs an appraising eye down your form and nods in the knowledge that at least you don’t look hurt.

“No… I —” you chew down on your bottom lip, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your arms. But you back away from him the moment he tries to take a step forward.

“Hey — quit that,” he taps at your wrist with the hilt of his sword, the touch hard but not harsh, forcing you to pull away.

“It’s — I’m — I’m alright,” you say, insistent and mollifying. Zoro runs his thumb against the hilt of his blades and scoffs.

“Liar,” he says, tossing the word casually back at you in a way that makes your breath hitch. Then, he turns, and marches below decks to tend to his own wounds.

A deafening silence rings out around you as you stare down at the ships blood-drenched planks before Robin places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon now — lets get your back looked at.”

Below decks, you find Zoro dabbing gingerly at a large slash on his right arm.

“Here, you’ve missed a spot —” you reach out to take the iodine soaked cloth from Zoro’s hand, only to have him jerk away. You flinch back, wide-eyed.

Zoro softens, if only ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice as he goes back to trying to twist around himself enough to see the spot he’s missed. You purse your lips, watching him for a second, two seconds, three — before you glance back at the place Robin had been only to realize that she’d gone.

“May… I?” you reach out your hand, palm up, tentative and imploring. But you hold yourself still, waiting for Zoro to make the next move. And he does, eventually, sighing as he turns back around to drop the piece of cloth into your palm.

You reach forward as he turns to his side, offering up his arm as you slowly start to wipe away at the bits of dried blood caking his skin to reveal the raw, red gash, the angry, raised flesh around it. You lean forward, blowing slightly as you daub at the wound, making your way down his bicep till the entire cut’s been coated in iodine.

“There. All done.”

You lean back to toss the cloth into the sink but Zoro stops you. He catches your wrist in his good hand and with a slight tug, has you toppling forward towards his chest.

“Turn around.”

His voice is soft, but firm. And it leaves no room for protests as you stare at him for a long moment before sighing and resigning yourself to your fate. You turn to show him your back.

A disgruntled huff is all you get before you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro rummaging around the first aide kit for a fresh piece of cloth, and the pop of the iodine bottle opening again.

“Who did this?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to tug a thin spike from your skin, small as a needle and just as sharp. You bite back a wince.

“The porcupine guy…” your voice trails off as Zoro grunts.

“Right.”

He tugs out another spike; it tinks against the metal of the sink as he tosses it away. A brief sting, and then the cooling feeling of the iodine cloth.

After a few minutes of working in silence, Zoro sighs.

“Geez, he really got you bad, didn’t he?”

“Not really,” you say, and you feel Zoro’s hands pause.

“No?”

You shake your head, “I’ve… been through much worse… and lived to tell the tale so…”

Zoro doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re talking about your past on the island, inside that windowless compound. He can see it in the scars that mar nearly the entirety of your back, the criss-cross lines of what looks like knife-wounds, the occasional puckered marks that look suspiciously like burns. He steels himself then, and continues to work — plucking out a spike and cleaning out the wound.

“You were right,” he says, when he finally finishes cleaning up your back and you both straighten to face each other. He wipes his hands clean and winces slightly as he flexes his newly bandaged arm.

“Right about what?” your voice is innocent, but the flash in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“That first day — I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t… make sure that no one ever hurt you again.”

His fingers curl into fists at his sides and you can see the muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

You reach out, tracing a thumb along his jawline. When you pull back, there’s a small daub of blood on your finger and you wipe it away without breaking his gaze.

“No, you couldn’t but… you tried.”

Zoro scoffs, “Tryin’s not good enough.”

“No,” you jerk up to glare at him, your voice harsh in a way that he’s only ever heard right after they’d rescued you, the edges of your words raw and ragged as a serrated blade, “trying is everything.”

interlude: truth or dare

It gets better after that, and you grow and bloom and grow some more. Zoro does too, though in his own way — he gets stronger, gets faster, hits harder. And though you two never quite agree on anything, he is always by your side, and you’re somehow always by his.

“’M not even a lil drunk —”

“Liar~” you singsong, giggling as Zoro shakes his head, tipping the remains of a bottle of sake back down his throat before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

“Mm… ‘s that all I am to you? Just another guy who lies?” Zoro swings lazily on the hammock hung on the main deck, his eyes half-lidded and alight with the dancing firelight.

“Stupid question — drink,” you answer, bringing our own bottle up to your lips.

Zoro laughs, quiet and pleased as he reaches for a new bottle.

“Alright then — truth or dare?” he asks, uncorking the new bottle and reaching out to offer you some. You bat him away, your movements languid and heavy, your back pressed against a heavy wooden barrel, one leg propped up to support your arm, the other stretched out long and lithe in front of you.

“Truth,” you say, your voice easy, your smile even more so.

“Alright then — do you trust me?” Zoro’s voice dips, and your eyes flash up. There’s a sobering light somewhere behind the alcohol soaked haze clouding his gaze and you can tell by the steadiness of his hands that he’s not nearly as drunk as he might seem.

“What do you mean?” you ask, casually evading the question.

Zoro tuts, “’S not an answer.”

“I’m asking for a clarification.”

Zoro shakes his head, taking another soft swig, “Simple question — do you trust me?”

You purse your lips, mulling over the myriad answers you could provide and make it sound like the truth. But that’s not really how the game goes. So instead, you take a deep breath.

“I — I want to,” and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes it honest, the way you can’t hold the truth in by the seams of your careful cadence, no matter how hard you try to smooth out the ragged edges.

“So… that’s a no,” Zoro says, keeping his tone even. You can’t help reaching for him — imploring.

“Not yet but —”

“Why?”

“Why… what?”

“I guess…” Zoro leans back, casting his eyes up at the wild, dark sky, careening above the ship in an ecstatic spread of stars and, long sinuous, moon-silvered clouds, “why d’you want to trust me? Doesn’t seem like something you’d be eager to do after… y’know, everything.”

You lick your lips and stare into the empty bottom of your glass.

“Honestly?” you say, “because you’re kind of a shit liar —”

Zoro lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, but doesn’t deny it.

“But… also because you’re the only person I’ve met who… who treats words so carefully — I mean…” you swallow, leaning forward slightly as Zoro drops his gaze back down to you, “it’s like — my whole life has just been people saying things they don’t really mean, and never meaning what they say, and then trying to figure out what’s really happening — trying to say the right thing, not the thing you mean but the thing you think they’d want to hear —” your breath quickens, “and — and if you don’t or if you’re bad at it, then bad things happen to you and the people you care about —”

“Hey.”

A hand presses down on your shoulder and you gasp, your breath knifing through your chest as you clasp your shaking hands to your sternum.

“Breathe. You’re okay.”

You nod, unable to say anything as Zoro sits in front of you, his hand like an anchor in a summer storm, keeping you tethered.

You breathe and take stock of your limbs — feet, legs, hands, arms. It’s then that you realize Zoro’s crouching in front of you, your drink glass resting by his side.

“Thanks,” you say, nodding as he gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before pulling away. Physical touch has never been one of your strong points, and it seems Zoro’s learned that without you ever having to tell him.

It’s strange — the sudden knowledge that somehow, his understanding of you has been wordless and implicit. Complete, from nearly the day the Straw Hats had picked you up on that island. You’d never had to explain, never had to draw your boundaries.

And yet somehow, he knew. As if he’d always just known.

“Truth or dare?” you ask him, your voice barely a whisper, shifting to make more space for him on the dark deck of the ship’s forecastle. Zoro sits down in front of you, crossing his legs.

“Dare.”

You don’t fight the grin as it lifts the side of your lips.

The quiet pulses between the pair of you like a heartbeat.

“Tell me a secret.”

“Gotta be more specific,” Zoro’s grin lilts to mirror your own.

“Any secret,” you say, “something you… something you wouldn’t otherwise say out loud.”

“Isn’t that what a secret’s supposed to be? Something you don’t say?”

You laugh, tasting the sound like a mouthful of champagne, bubbling up through you and spiraling towards the endless summer’s night.

“Quit stalling!”

“Think I wanna kiss you.”

A gasp slices through the air between you. You feel the weight of it in your throat, the white-hot flicker of his gaze as he glances down at your lips. You wet them without thinking, and as Zoro lean’s in, you can sense the night around you slowly coalescing into something warm, something solid. Like a marble clutched in a child’s palm, or a pearl held on an oyster’s velvet tongue.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

He stops just short of your lips, his nose almost grazing yours. You can nearly taste the sweet sake on his breath —

“Dare.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter and for a second, an eternity revolves in the space between your heartbeats. Faintly, you register the gentle rocking of the ship as an indolent wave catches her starboard side.

You close your eyes.

For a second, there is space. For a second, there is breath. For a second, there is gravity. And then — all of that disappears. All of it eclipsed by the kiss. And then, the kiss is all there is.

All there was, and ever will be.

There’s a graze of fingers against skin, the bump of legs against legs against thighs against knees — there’s knuckles and noses and hair falling, hair being tugged into closing fists. There’s the clink-clink-clink of earrings, and the clatter-clap-clat of swords and hilts and rough, wooden planks.

There’s the dull thunk and baseline rumble of a glass being knocked over and rolling away.

But all of that is afterthought. All of that is supplement, a postscript, marginalia and footnotes.

Because there, then — there is only the kiss, and nothing but the kiss: a catastrophe of inevitability, smooth as a secret, and whisper-sweet.

When the pair of you pull away, there’s a chaos of wings against your ribcage.

There’s the honeyed, lambent light in Zoro’s eyes as he grins down at you.

“Truth — or dare,” a breathless gasp punctuates your words.

Zoro’s grin only grows as he tips your chin back between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dare.”

It’s only then that you realize his cheeks are wine-flushed, his chest rising and falling nearly as fast as yours. You swallow slow and track his eyes as he watches the pale bob of your throat.

“Kiss me again.”

act iii: fool’s gold

It takes all of three hours for Sanji to get something out of Zoro, and three days before Robin and Nami manage to wheedle something out of you.

“No seriously! Things have been different since that one party we had —” Nami presses her palm to the kitchen table, here eyes wide. Robin sits on the couch, her expression one of mixed amusement and near academic interest.

“Different how?” you reach into the cookie jar and fish out a crumbled corner of what used to be a double chocolate chip cookie.

“Ugh! You know what I mean!” Nami turns to Robin, motioning towards you, “Help me here!”

Robin laughs, tossing up a graceful hand, “I suppose something does seem… changed.”

“Something?” you ask, licking at a smudge of chocolate on your thumb.

“Well…” Robin says, drawing out the syllable and making to examine the nails on her long, thin fingers, “it’s definitely not nothing.”

You allow yourself a smile, “Something’s definitely not nothing.”

Nami lets out a frustrated groan, but she’s smiling too.

It’s been long enough that you’d learned to relax around them, and you’d since also learned that nothing is so sacred as the sanctity of sisterhood. That bonds between friends might be forged in fire and brimstone, but bonds between women are forged in cinder and smoke — in the wreckage of after, when the fighting’s been done and all that’s left is the mending.

“What’s all this giggling about?” Zoro ducks into the half-ajar door, staring at the three of you.

Nami cocks an eyebrow; Robin shrugs.

You, for your part, smile and bat your lashes.

“Oh nothing,” you say.

“Just girl-talk,” offers Nami.

“Nothing to interest a legendary swordsman like yourself,” Robin polishes off.

Zoro’s eyes narrow, his gaze jumping between the three of you before it lands on you and he scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever. We’re docking soon.”

And that’s all he offers before sauntering back out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears as he hurries away.

You give it a beat of three seconds before pushing to your feet and following after, humming to yourself. Behind you, Nami and Robin share a knowing look.

“Definitely not nothing,” Robin says as she stands to follow you.

The island, if it can even be called that, is nothing more than a rough conglomeration of steep cliffs strapped together by a thin band of land barely wide enough to be categorized as a beach.

“Well! This is something!” Luffy declares, his arms akimbo on his hips as he stares at the island.

“Yeah… it’s uh… something for sure,” Usopp agrees, making a face as he squints at the cluster of rocks that look more like the jagged edges of a broken bottle than any kind of proper land formation.

“We’ll just anchor here for the night… get some good rest, and then...” Sanji’s words trail off, interrupted by a ghostly wail that rises from the gathering of dark cliffs, turning them into an echo chamber until it seems to rumble through the sand beneath them.

“… gold, all gold! — no, not a liar — please!”

A shiver etches itself up your spine and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself.

Zoro steps out in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever might come. His thumb presses against the hilt of his swords, his shoulders tense as corded wire.

“Uh… everyone else heard that too, right?” Chopper asks, peaking out from around Robin’s legs.

“Yep. Definitely not just you,” Sanji confirms.

Luffy grins, “Seems like there’s someone else on this island! Maybe they can show us around!”

Time passes by strangely on the island — one minute, the sun is still hanging low on the far horizon, and the next, the sky is the color of a bullet wound, darkness seeping in around the horizon.

“Whoever’s here on the island — they sure aren’t making it — easy —” Sanji grunts as he hoists himself up a slippery piece of rock face, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squints into the looming blackness.

“Luffy? You sure you know where we’re going?” Nami shouts, her voice ringing back in a way that makes everyone wince and cover their ears.

Zoro grabs your elbow a second before you slip, fingers digging into your flesh even as you steady yourself against him.

“Sorry — thanks,” you say, unsure of which one you really mean.

“Yeah! I can smell something — like a campfire! And… cooking!” Luffy’s voice calls back from somewhere in the gathering dark. Everyone shares a glance before bracing themselves and trudging on.

By the time you all catch up to Luffy, no one is certain of what time it is, only that it’s dark. But the kind of darkness that seems to cling to the skin — a darkness so dense it starts to take on shape and weight.

It presses in around you and you feel your breaths shortening in your chest.

Beside you, Zoro reaches out to brace a hand at the small of your back.

“Oh! I see a light ahead! C’mon!” Luffy’s voice rings out from somewhere up ahead, followed by the patter of sandals on stone. The rest of you follow, and then all too suddenly, light flickers to life in what seems to be a huge, subterranean cave deep within the cliffs of the island. It casts stark shadows against the slick, cavernous walls.

You frown, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs.

But before you have time to dwell on the wrongness of something there, Luffy’s voice snags your attention like a thread on an errant splinter.

“Hi! Oh, wow — that looks delicious!”

You turn a corner to find Luffy hunkering down over a blazing campfire and the silhouette of someone sitting opposite him, a sharp spike held out in front of them, turning slowly over the flickering flames.

“Oh… please… come join me — sit and listen to a story — I have so many stories — so many adventures to share!” the figure across the fire seems to quiver with the dancing flames, his voice filling up the whole of the cave, loud and boisterous and eager. But strange and hollow too.

You frown, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.

Ahead of you, Usopp and Chopper both take tentative seats next to Luffy, who had cheerfully plopped down next to the fire.

“Wow, this looks great! Are you here by yourself? I’m here with my crew! Are you a pirate too?” Luffy asks, his endless enthusiasm pouring from him like a spring.

Robin, Nami, and Sanji all hold back, but you take a step forward, and then another. Something compelling you towards the voice, pulling you closer. There’s a desperation, a loneliness with which you’re all too familiar — you inch closer, and then closer, till you’re almost level with Luffy, and you lower yourself to the ground next to him, Zoro dropping down beside you, his knee pressing against your leg in a silent reassurance.

“Come… come closer! It’s a good story — I promise!”

“Truth,” you mutter, just beneath your breath. Beside you, Zoro lets out a puff of breath, though his stance doesn’t loosen.

Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of the rest of the crew drawing just a step closer.

“Once upon a time… there was a city on an island where everything, and I mean everything was made of gold!”

The figure across the fire sounds cheered, elated even. Behind you, you feel Nami take half a step closer. Cold seeps into your veins despite the warm, dancing flames, and your fingers dig into the hard packed earth beneath you.

“I found it — I did! With my crew — the best sailors and seamen around! But the king… he was greedy! And he wanted his own men to take the treasures, so he forced me to lead them to the city again —”

“Truth,” you say again, but something in the tone of the figure’s voice makes you frown.

“Except… the city had gone… and there was nothing left… nothing but lies!”

You shudder back, swallowing hard. All around you, the darkness presses in with long, thin tendrils like so many loving fingers. The fire flares up, casting sparks up towards the cave’s ceiling, where stalagmites hang like broken teeth in a petrified monster’s maw.

“Oh… don’t be scared… come back — I won’t hurt you —”

“Liar!” you spit, the word scraping its way out of your throat.

Zoro leaps to his feet just as Luffy does the same. The fire flares again, a second before snuffing itself out, but in that second, you finally catch sight of the figure, hooded in shadow, sitting across from you — it has the shape of a man, tall and broad, but the limbs of a spindle-legged monster. It wears the darkness like a cloak, with beady, red eyes and a too-wide mouth.

“Don’t! Call me a liar! That’s what they called me — that’s what they called when they killed me! KILLED ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!”

You scramble back, Zoro nearly lifting you off the ground in his haste to pull you away. Luffy whips back his arm and swings it forward but all it catches is tendrils of shadow.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” he shakes off his fist, frowning as he stares at the bits of wriggling darkness still clinging to his skin.

“Run!” you shout as everyone bolts for the lightless path you all took to get to the heart of the cave.

“NOT A LIAR! NOT A LIAR! I FOUND IT! THE CITY! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE ME!”

You clap your hands around your ears and race for what you hope is the exit. Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of Zoro’s blades whistling through the air*.*

“Damnit! How’dyou fight a shadow? There’s nothin’ to hit!”

“Quit tryna hit it and just run!” Sanji’s voice answers a second before he breezes passed you.

“Why don’t you believe me? Why?!”

“We — I believe you!” you shout, your chest a thundering mess of footfalls and scrambling bodies, and against all instinct, you turn around to face the darkness again, cupping your hands around your mouth, “I believe you! I know — I know you’re telling the truth!”

“What’re you doing?” Zoro asks, leveling himself by your side, his arm pressing against yours. Behind you, the thinnest sliver of light is creeping into the cave from what you assume is the entrance.

Morning. Has it really been that long?

Time is the greatest liar, you remember, suddenly, violently, the thought tearing through you like teeth.

“I — he’s telling the truth,” you say through gritted teeth, even as you take a few steps back. Inside the cave, the figure seems to shrink back from the encroaching light.

“What truth?” Zoro asks, his blade held aloft, his stance wide and ready.

“All of it,” you say, forcing your voice to be gentle, turning your face back towards the darkness, “I know, I can hear it — I know you’re telling the truth — about the island, the city — all of it!”

“Yes… all I wanted was to get back to the city… but… no one believe me… and I died… I died for it!”

“I know, and I’m sorry… no one should be punished for telling the truth —” your voice cracks.

“I tried!”

“I know…” you say as the figure shrinks and shrinks and shrinks and the light behind you grows and grows and grows, until you can feel the warm seeping into the skin of your back.

“And trying is everything,” you say, biting your lip as Zoro wraps an arm around your waist.

“Come with me… I’ll take you to the city — we can go together!”

You shake your head, heat prickling at your eyes as you turn away from the darkness of the cave and towards the light of the oncoming day.

“Liar…” the word falls from you like a rock, or a tear, cast off the cliff that greets you and Zoro as you both stare over the edge. The rest of the crew is nowhere to be found, but Zoro’s arm is still around your waist, and you can feel his warm breath by your cheek.

“Hey — do you trust me?”

You look up; in the dawning, morning light, Zoro, with his sun-kissed skin and dark moss hair appears to be limned in gold.

And maybe it’s the air, or the sea, or simply the angry pieces of this jagged, left-behind island of shadows like broken teeth trying to tear apart the sky, conducting his voice into a cacophony of echoes that sing and scream through the crags and eves of the valley beneath — but the whole island seems to reverberate with the question —

Do you trust me?

You close your eyes and breath. When you open them again, your heartbeat is steady. And when you speak, the rising sun streaks the tips of the saw-toothed peaks in strokes of molten gold. The valleys beneath you conduct your answer into an entire single-syllabled symphony —

Yes.

You feel his arm tighten around your waist, the wind as it tangles soft fingers in your hair. All around you, everything is light, and light, and light.

“Jump!”

You close your eyes, and jump.

-----

footnotes/appendix

uso-uso no mi translates to "lie-lie fruit"; i made it up bc it would be too op to have in the actual animanga i think

the "acts" refer to a classical 3-act structure that most movies/plays/scripts are written in: setup, confrontation, and resolution... with a smattering of other things sprinkled in for ~vibes~

in much of classical japanese and chinese mythology, foxes are associated with trickers and lies, often turning into beautiful women to deceive men, luring them into forests and mountains before taking their lives

the "figure" in the last scene is... can you guess? noland! kudos to anyone who figured it out as they were reading *\ (>o<) /*

did i absolutely take the "do you trust me" line from disney's aladdin??? HELL YEAH i did !!!! tru trust is my kink u__u

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