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ramp-it-up · 3 months ago

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... As Hard as I Did

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Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Now he knows he wants more than just one night with you, so much more. Do you feel the same?

Word count: 1.9K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after KYD IV, but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Bucky is in love. The angst! The fluff! The morning after! Bucky wakes you up the best way he knows how, thorough female receiving oral sex, edging, manual sex, teabagging, squirting, nipple play, begging, use of Daddy, bukakke, cum play, Bucky cooks for you, google translate Romanian, the "L" word, allusions to cock riding.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

James Bucky Barnes had slipped and fallen in love.

Steve was so right.

It came out of the blue last Monday when he met with you about a painting, and here he was the very next Sunday morning, holding you in his arms. The ruse of him being a fully legitimate art dealer and not a crime boss had been quickly done away with by the media and your friends, and the fantasy of wooing you met the reality that you did not come to play.

You called Bucky on his bullshit and that made him fall even harder for you. He was honest about his plan to go legit and careful with your feelings, not immediately turning to physicality as he did with every other woman. There was something special about you that was worth the wait.

The five days had been an eternity for both of you, and Bucky had been like a teenager, unable to last very long. He was determined to set that right today, and also to tell you how he felt.

Bucky Barnes knew very little fear, but wondering if you returned his feelings was shaking him to the core.

He held to his original dream of making you smile at him forever, but those dreams had grown to thoughts of a life together, a home you could build together, and the thought of what kids together might look like.

Bucky smiled and held you closer as you snuggled deeper into his embrace and threw your leg over his hip. He caressed the soft skin of your thigh as he argued with himself. He was too old for this; he would be an old man when your kids were just going to college, but that didn’t stop him from making Steve go with him to Cartier yesterday after your event.

Steve grumbled, but he was still smitten with you from his conversation with you yesterday, so he didn’t protest the 5 carat purchase that Bucky made. His best friend just asked Bucky some pertinent questions like:

Had Bucky told you that he loved you?

Did you love him?

Did you even want to get married? To a criminal?

Did you want to have kids with Bucky?

Bucky just stared at Steve, creating the opportunity to goad him.

“But all that aside. If you don’t lock her down, I just might. I’ll close the deal swiftly.”

That left Bucky’s blood to boil while he prepared for dinner last night, but when he opened the door and saw you standing there, every negative vibe left his vicinity.

And now, you were here, warm and beautiful, and naked, in his grip. He was going to take full advantage of the few hours you might gift him today. He didn’t want to risk you running away after he told you his feelings.

He lifted your thigh and positioned himself most where he needed to be.

—--

You moaned in your sleep. You dreamed that Bucky was eating you out again, but you couldn’t quite feel his kisses and slurps to your folds, only whispers of sensation, like air. It was so frustrating, so you grabbed Buckys’ hair and scratched his scalp, trying to encourage him to be rougher.

He moaned and you smiled, calling his name.

“James, please….”

Your eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliarity of Bucky’s bedroom in the morning light. Your legs were spread wide and Bucky’s head was pillowed on your thigh, his hot breath teasing your pussy.

“What are you doing?”

You looked down to see him staring at your most intimate parts and smiling.

“Mmmm. Good morning Frumoasă. I’m about to check an item off my long list of what I want to do to you…”

He pursed his lips and softly kiss your lower ones. You shivered and continued playing in his hair. You laughed, music to Bucky’s ears. He smiled up at you.

“Oh, so you have a list, do you?”

“Yes, an extensive one at that. I will show you later, but right now…”

Bucky moved to kneel and shoved his hands under your ass, serving you up to him as on a platter. His eyes moved from your fluttering cunt up your soft belly and your beautiful breasts to your face. He leaned forward to give you a sound smack on the lips.

“I was wondering if I was going to get a good morning kiss.”

That eyebrow arched and he moved down your body again.

“That’s all in my plan, Frumoasă. Just be patient. ”

You pulled Bucky’s hair as his long, thick tongue licked through you to your soul. You shuddered and Bucky smiled, then those lips took hold of your clit and sucked ruthlessly as he brought one hand up to push two fingers inside you, the squelch of your wetness so gloriously obscene. He stopped and just pumped those fingers inside you, listening.

“Hear how wet you are for me? It’s a dream come true.”

You reached with grabby hands for him to stimulate your clit as all he did was fuck you with his fingers and hold you open for him. You were on the edge of madness. And it seemed that was where Bucky wanted you.

“Jamie….”

“Atât de nerăbdătoare Frumoasă. savurați momentul.”

Somehow, you knew he was telling you to wait.

“Please, please, please James. Eat your pussy please!”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his head. You begging was his weakness, what he wanted to hear from since day one. Then he realized what you’d said.

“... Did you say… that this pussy was mine?”

You smirked at him, feeling the brat.

“Maybe…”

Bucky frowned and slapped your clit, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to roll up your spine and wetness to gush out over his fingers.

“Ow! Yes! Yes! This pussy is yours, Daddy, please eat it.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and his cock, which was hard against his abdomen, jumped.

“Seems you know the magic words, Frumoasă.”

Bucky rewarded you with his mouth clamped over your clit and his eyes locked on yours as you watched his tongue working in his jaw. He was eating you out like a professional. You arched into his face, clit hart and throbbing, ready to give him…

He pulled away as you gasp/screamed in outrage, then whimpered and pouted.

“Please Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re ruining me, I can tell. But tell me, Frumoasă, tell me…”

He regarded you now with a new possessiveness. Impossibly, it made you wetter.

“What else of yours is mine?”

You squirmed under his attention and he rewarded you with another finger in your cunt and all three curled against that electric spot within you.

“What about this ass?”

His pinky bullied into your tighter hole, and you arched as he leaned down to suck your clit like saltwater taffy.

“Oh shittttttt! Yes! Fuck yessss.”

Bucky was grinding his cock against the sheets now, possessed by the sight, taste, and feel of you in his hands. He could actually taste that you were close now, and he wanted it almost as much as you did, but he abandoned you again. He looked up at your body.

“What about those glorious tits?”

He reached up to pluck both of them of them ruthlessly over and over as he continued to finger fuck you. His breath was ragged and his face a mask of desire, but he still had a modicum of control.

“They are next on my list.”

“W-what do you mean?”

You were thrilled and scared at the same time.

“Nu-ți face griji pentru ea frumos, doar ai răbdare.”

And his face was busy again between your legs, which were shaking around his ears. He held one down with one hand as he fucked you with the other.

“Shit, Daddy! I’m gonna….fuck! I’m gonna…”

Bucky nodded and looked up at you, then he told you to cum with his fingers and you shattered, gushing into his mouth and all over his bed.

Bucky leaned up and groaned as he played in your wetness, using that hand to begin to jack himself over your shuddering body.

“Can I come all over you, Frumoasă?”

“Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky groaned and then manhandled your nipples.

“Cum all over me, Jamie.”

Then he roared as you moved so that you could suck his balls.”

“Holy, shhhhhhitttttttt!”

You were circling your own clit as the first hot drops of his cum sprayed over your already heated body. You came one more time as he focused on your breasts and left a hot, sticky mess all over you.

Your eyes were closed as your shivered because Bucky’s hot mouth was sucking his spend off your nipples. He alternated between kisses, bites, and laps against your skin.

“James! Gotdamn! I–”

“I know, I know, Frumoasa. But I can’t get enough...suportă-mă, iubito…”

—---

Later that Sunday, around noon, you sat, twice showered, marked, edged, and fucked to within an edge of your life as you ate the brunch that Bucky made you. You were ensconced in one of his plain white tee shirts and some of his boxer briefs and socks, and he was looking at you hungrily.

You laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky smirked, happier than he’d been in a good while.

“Do you want more…?”

Despite the debauched things you’d spent the morning doing, you blushed and looked down at your plate. You felt like a slut. But in a good way. You loved sex with Bucky. It seemed like even his pleasure was focused on you. It was unlike any other relationship you’d ever had.

“I’m sorry. Do you regret it?”

Bucky stopped eating and tipped your head up by your chin with his fingers. He looked worried and you melted. You bit your lip and decided to go for it.

“No. Because I love you.”

Bucky’s fork clattered to his plate and his eyes grew wide while your bright smile faded. Then he frowned.

“Fuck.”

He looked mad.

“I- I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too soon. I’m sorry, just forget that I said that.”

“No! Shit…”

Bucky grabbed your head and kissed you, the strawberries and cream from the waffles flooding your senses as his tongue found yours. When he was done, he grinned at you.

“I was pissed for a second, but not at you. What you just said is all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you, too and here you are, saying it first.”

You rolled your eyes, although your soul soared. You pulled away and took another bite of food.

“It’s not a competition, James.”

You said it through a full mouth.

“Hmmmm. Maybe not. But I do love you more.”

He took another, bigger bite of food and you shook your head at him.

“You are insufferable.”

Bucky grinned.

“Get used to it if you’re gonna be my girl.”

“Your girl? Oh?”

Bucky wiped his mouth, then picked you up and placed you on his lap.

“Y/N L/N. I love you. And I want to figure this thing out between us. I want you to be my girlfriend while I figure out how to be the best man for you. Then maybe… “

You stopped him with your finger on his lips.

“Listen. One step at a time, Jamie. I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You are the best man for me. My man. I’m along for the ride.”

Bucky kissed you, then stood up and threw you over his shoulder as he moved to his couch.

“Speaking of riding. There’s my list to attend to.”

You screamed and laughed as Bucky slapped your ass.

——

Next part Here!

All feedback is golden, babies! Let me know how you feel. ✨

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qdrntln4 · 4 months ago

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LILLY.

pairing: lando x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of a deaf daughter, y/n and lando's son being a menace to their dog 😭

wc: 560

notes: im the younger sister of a girl who was born blind and mentally impaired, so i know the struggles of managing a family when people from the outside pity you for something that you can't control. i hope that anyone who's in a similar situation finds comfort in this fic.

The fans were in despair. Their favourite couple, their favourite mum and dad had just found out that their daughter — their first baby — was deaf.

Lando and Y/n weren’t worried though.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

Lando walked into his daughter’s room, leaning against the door frame. She was playing the piano like she always does. How amazed of his daughter he was; she couldn’t hear yet she still practiced like no tomorrow.

Lando turned the lights on and off a couple of times before Lilly turned around. she smiled at her father,

“Does this sound right?” Lilly spoke. She was always a good speaker. Even after she became deaf, she relied on her vocal chords to do the work for her. Lando always knew that she would be amazing.

Lando pulled his hands out of his pockets, signing to her,

‘It sounds amazing, beautiful. I think you need to go up one note at the end, though.’

Lilly nodded, turned around and played the same tune again, adding in her father’s advice. Once she had finished, she turned around seeking her dad’s approval. Lando gave her a thumbs up before closing her door to where it previously was.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

Out in the living room, Ash was crawling around on his play mat. He was picking up his toys, throwing them around and giggling to himself.

Y/n sat on the couch with the television on. She had a magazine in her hand and rollers in her hair. She had another month off of work so she had every right to spoil herself while she could.

Daizee — their dachshund cross jack russell (…george? 😟-) — was also watching the television. She diverted her attention to Ash every once in a while, being the big sister of the house. Their golden retriever, Charlie, was lying down with Ash and letting the baby play with his ears.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

Lando sat down next to his wife, giving her a kiss on the cheek before pulling her into his side.

“How’s Lils?” Y/n looked up from her magazine to look at her husband before placing the book down.

Lando nodded, tracing small patterns on her biceps, “She’s doing good, playing the piano last time I checked.” At that, Y/n nodded before turning her attention to the television.

Speak of the devil, Lilly emerged from her room with a skip. That’s what Y/n and Lando loved to see. Even after given the news by the doctor when she turned three, she never let her condition bring her down.

She stopped in front of her mum and dad before doing a little dance and running off to grab a snack from the kitchen. Typical Lilly.

When she returned and sat down on the long end of the couch, she looked over to her parents to see if they needed her attention. As if she knew, Y/n signed to her daughter,

‘How are you feeling today my sweet?’

Lilly nodded, smiling her famous bright smile that even the sea of papaya loved.

“Good!” She answered before turning to watch the show playing on the big screen.

Lando and Y/n shared a look. A look of knowing, of pride. That was their daughter. The fighter that they created.

…And on the floor was Ash, climbing all over Charlie. That poor dog.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

a/n: thank you all so much for the love and support ive been recieving recently! i cant thank you all enough. here's the fic of the idea from my previous post, i hope it's up to your standards! this is also for @ladyladybuggg who wanted to read this, so i hope you enjoy my love!

#f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #x y/n #lando norris #fanfiction #f1 imagine #lando norris as a dad #dad lando #golden retriever

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rikiislvr · 5 months ago

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✧ k. - nishimura riki

pairing: nishimura riki x afab!reader

summary: one wrong slip up, can shatter some hearts.

warnings: cursing

you and niki got into a heated argument, all because you tried to go through his phone for something, and he got really defensive about it.

and you immediately knew he was hiding something from you,

“you always let me look through it!? i don’t understand what changed all of a sudden.” you scoff and cross your arms as you stood from the bed, niki was sitting at the edge, his phone in his pocket as he rubbed his temples.

“just because i won’t let you go through it, means im hiding something?” he shakes his head.

“why can i just.. you never had a problem with it!” you tilt your head, “well i do now. and i don’t want you to look through my phone. now can we just go to sleep now? gosh- ive had a long day and i’m annoyed y/n.”

you scoff at his tone, “i’m good. i don’t wanna sleep in here tonight. i’ll take the couch.” you grab your pillow. “are you serious?” he watched you, you didn’t reply, you just left the room and went to the couch in the living room.

niki got up and followed you, “don’t be like this.” he sighed, “be like what?” you roll your eyes and laid the pillow down,

“you never sleep in here. can you just come to bed?” he pushed his hair back, “no. i’m fine on the couch.” you look at him.

niki was over it. he was frustrated with the day in general, back to back activities for the recent comeback, he didn’t have time to come home to this.

which is exactly why he was going to say something he was gonna regret for the rest of the night…

“you’re being so stubborn. you’re being so annoying all because i won’t let you look through my damn phone y/n?! it sounds like insecurity really..” he shouts suddenly,

you gasp softly, your eyes began to swell with tears as you looked down, niki immediately realized he messed up,

“shit.. no, hey.. i’m-

“i’m leaving.” you push past him and into the bed room, niki was confused at first but caught on what you just said, immediately chasing after you,

“babe..? where are you going?” niki asked, a hint of worry in his voice. you grab your bag, packing whatever you can, “i can’t stay here tonight.” you whisper.

niki walked over to you and grabbed your hands, “no no.. you don’t have to leave, please? i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.. i’ll-

“you don’t have to do anything niki. i’m just gonna go.” you zip up the bag, you walked past him and went to put on your shoes, grabbing your keys from the hook, niki followed after you,

“no baby… please, please don’t go? i’m sorry.. i really am. i don’t know why i even said that… you just.. you can’t go through my phone.” niki looked down, you wiped your eyes.

“it’s fine. i don’t want too anymore anyways.” you shrug and left the apartment door.

once the door shut, niki felt his heart shatter. “shit.. no no no..” he whispered to himself, running both hands down his face,

he knew he messed up.

he just didn’t want you to look through his phone.

not because he was cheating or.. talking to someone else.

it was because he had photos of the ring he wanted to buy to propose to you. and he couldn’t delete it.

and he knew if you seen it, it would spoil the surprise.

but he could’ve came off better with his words, he sighed to himself and sat at the counter in the kitchen, staring off at the wall.

he had to apologize to you,

and he knew the best way to do so.

a/n: this was kinda short but hey it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while, gotta post something! sorry for such a sad draft haha :(

tl: @certified-ni-ki-lover @noblub-4ulolz @yourmyst4r @vixialuvs @ni-ki-ismyluv @judeduartewannabe @soobs-things @en-chantedtomeetyou @definitelynotherr @heyniki @wntersm @geniejunn @pkjay @baevsxii @k1ttylvr @geniejunn @pkjay @chaevibes @jiyeons-closet

#enhypen #niki enhypen #nishimura riki #enhypen niki #enhypen fluff #niki x reader #riki nishimura x reader #mae’s works —!

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hannieween · 1 year ago

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city lights series | joshua hong (M) [finished]

Joshua Hong could be many things. For one, he is your next door neighbour. He is a rockstar, a relentless tease, a menace. But, ironically, he is always willing to lend a hand whenever you need it, regardless of the nature of your desires.

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: smut [18+] ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, neighbours with benefits ✮ word count: 177k

▸ playlist ♡

navigation post part i | insomnia The last bit of sanity in your mind vanished the moment before you asked your hot neighbour to be your fuck buddy. Whatever prompted you to muster the courage to get the words out was something you didn't know you had inside you. But he wasn't saying no.

part ii | reverie Joshua Hong was many things aside from your hot neighbour—he was a menace, a relentless tease. But most importantly, he was the first guy to ever make you feel wanted. And you were yet to know how dangerous that was.

part iii | pillow talk Deep down, you knew you were growing an attachment to... whatever this was. Joshua was not intoxicating, you were wrong about that, he was addictive.

part iv | lunacy You could no longer hide your infatuation over Joshua Hong. It was becoming painfully obvious, though you weren't sure to what extent he was aware of this. Or if he even cared, for that matter.

part v | stargazing Joshua should've known the minute he saw you standing outside his door for the first time. Then, maybe he would've gotten the opportunity to make things right with you. But no, he let his hedonistic ways get in the way first. Now, will he get the opportunity to make things right with you?

part vi | blue hour If there was a guideline to how to be a fuckbuddy, you were sure you had already broke every rule in the book. It was ridiculous at this point, and you were so sure that Joshua might be catching all of your signs already, because you couldn't be more obvious. But oh, Joshua is only but a man.

part vii | lullaby For months, you've been hiding how you really felt about your fuckbuddy and the remorse for deceiving him can be sickening. For both of you.

part viii | after dark It all started with a deal with your next door neighbor, Joshua Hong. A little harmless deal that surprisingly led you to finding love; and a part of yourself that you were still discovering.

part viii | after dark pt. ii

side chapter | 3:14 AM

part ix | badsleeper › finale For as long as you've been with Joshua, you've always had this... fantasy. And your boyfriend isn't one to not let you indulge.

last update: 20.04.2024 (❁´◡`❁)

#joshua hong smut #svt smut #joshua smut #seventeen smut #joshua hong #svt fanfic #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong fanfic #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #svt angst #seventeen x reader #ff:city lights #hannieween

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yikes-aemond · 6 months ago

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I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part II)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: 18+, smut, canon typical violence, cursing

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood return to the woods where your story began. Things get heated.

word count: 3.6k

author note: Thanks so much to everyone for your kind words about this little story. This is my first time posting fanfiction, and I am overwhelmed by the response. And in case anyone is curious, I pretty much listened exclusively to Taylor Swift’s “Guilty as Sin?” while writing this. Love you babes. Happy reading!

part I can be found here. part III can be found here. part iv can be found here.

A madness plagued you, of that there could be no doubt.

Days had passed since the boundary stone incident. But you could barely bring yourself to leave the confines of your chambers. You did not want to see anyone. Not your father. Not your fellow ladies or maids. And certainly not Aeron.

You only wanted to see Benjicot. Lay eyes on him and hold him and confirm that you were not alone with these feelings.

In your heart, you knew that he must feel something. No Blackwood would withdraw from a challenge with a Bracken as quickly as he did after your plea without feeling anything. But your mind played tricks on you, turning over every interaction, every look, every word between the two of you.No promises had been made. No tender feelings shared.

What if you had imagined it all? That thought alone kept you awake at night, tossing and turning with no relief.

And gods, did you crave relief from this sweet torture.

You felt trapped beneath your own skin, aching and longing for something that you could not fully name. But even though you did not know the full language of lovers, did not know exactly what happened between a couple when they lied together, you knew enough. Knew that pleasure could be found between your thighs with a twirl of your fingers. Knew it was a sin, but could not bring yourself to care.

You could not get the look of Benjicot’s enraged face out of your mind. Flushed cheeks, wide eyes, snarling mouth. Even the cuts, bruises, and blood on his hands called to some primal part of you. The way he defended you, fought for you. He was a force, and the thought of having all that frenzied energy focused on you was enough to send you over the edge.

You touched yourself to images of Benjicot that flashed through your mind. His face hovering over you. His arms encircling your body. His hands touching you. Unlacing your dress and removing your small clothes. Warm, strong, calloused hands traveling across your breasts, hips, and thighs. Moving higher and higher until he reached the core of you.

And when you reached that pentacle of release, it was his name you sighed allowed.

This madness had to end.

So, in the early morning hours before Stone Hedge woke, you made your way back to the woods where it all began.

You did not know how long you walked but you suspected hours. The sun was steadily rising in the sky, warming the air and casting shadows through the trees. You only vaguely knew the right direction to Raventree Hall and prayed to both the old gods and the new that you were on the right path.

Not that you really had a plan once you reached Raventree Hall. It was not as if you could march up to the front door, knock, and demand to see the heir. The fact that you were a Bracken almost guaranteed that at best, such a request would be refused, or at worst, end with your head on a spike.

But even when your legs began to tire and sweat dripped down your brow, you pushed forward—determined that today would be the day you received answers.

That is until you tripped over a tree root, stumbling to the ground. You landed awkwardly on your front, both hands throbbing from cuts and scrapes you gained while trying to break your fall. But at least you had not rolled your ankle this time.

Just as you began to pick yourself up, you felt a presence behind you. You were not sure if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but the forest itself seemed to quiet. You could no longer hear the wind rustling the leaves, nor birds chirping or insects humming.

All your attention focused on one thing. Him. Benjicot. Every part of your being knew he was the one behind you.

You felt the ghost of his touch before he surrounded you. His front to your back, both kneeling on the ground. His hand brushed against your hip before he leaned in and whispered, “Didn’t I tell you that these lands were not for Brackens, my lady?”

You tried to turn to face him, but Benjicot stopped the motion by bringing his arm across your stomach, caging you against him. “How typical,” he scolded. “A Bracken who can’t do what they are told.”

Your senses were overloaded. You could practically hear your heart pounding against your chest. Everything about Benjicot pulled you further and further into his snare—his touch, his scent, his voice. You had never felt so helpless. And you liked it.

But as quickly as Benjicot had trapped you, he let you go. One moment, he was supporting your weight against him, and the next, you were unmoored and alone. Leaping to your feet, you turned to finally face the man who had singlehandedly ruined your sanity and good sense.

Benjicot had put distance between the two of you. At least two strides away, he was no longer within your reach. A part of you rebelled at the distance. For six years you had longed to be in his presence and have his attention focused on you. And now that you were here, in this place where your fates first intertwined, you could not bear the space.

But something held you back. The look on Benjicot’s face. He’s angry.

You had witnessed his legendary temper in action, had seen the bloody results. But Benjicot’s anger had never been directed toward you. Even when you first encountered him in these woods all those years ago, he had not been angry. Exasperated and intrigued, sure. But never angry.

Yet there was no mistaking the look on his face now. His eyes were cold and distant, his lips turned down. He looked at you as if you were a stranger. And you did not care for that at all.

Breaking the silence, Benjicot asked, “What are you doing here?”

His gruff voice sent a thrill down your spine. For a fleeting moment, you tried to keep your composure, tried to mold your face into a mask of indifference as he had done. But you had neither the patience nor skill to do so. Your emotions always stayed close to the surface, threatening to unleash and break free at any moment.

“What am I doing here?” you repeated back to him. “I’m here to see you. I thought that was rather obvious.”

Benjicot’s eyes narrowed at your tone. A break in the unfeeling facade he had erected. “I told you that these woods were not safe. I told you to not come back here. I told you—”

“I know what you told me!” Your own anger rising to meet his. “I have thought about what you said to me in these woods every godsdamn day for the last six years,” you seethed.

Benjicot rolled his eyes at your tantrum. “And yet, here you are.”

Unbelievable. You threw your hands into the air in frustration, eyes seeking the sky for patience. “Well maybe I would not have had to go traipsing through the woods if you had bothered to do something about our situation!”

A beat passed before Benjicot responded. “Our situation?” he asked, amusement echoing in this tone. “And what situation might that be, my lady?

You, once again trespassing on Blackwood land in violation of the assize? You, who apparently has no care for your own wellbeing, wandering into these woods alone and defenseless? As helpless as a newborn fawn, completely at the mercy of those who would strike first and ask questions later? That situation?”

You wanted to tear the smug look off his face. Maybe you really were a Bracken through and through. Because at the moment, you understood with perfect clarity why your ancestors had feuded since time in memoriam.

You did not know why he was acting this way. Why he was trying to push you away. Why he refused to acknowledge the meaning behind your words. Except—

What if he did not share your feelings? What if you had really imagined it all?

Your anger fled as quickly as it had appeared; replaced instead by a wave of nausea at your own foolishness. Of course, he did not feel the same way. You were a Bracken. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face to look at, maybe he would have had you warm his bed, but he could never love you.

You felt the color drain from your face. Trembling, you turned away from him. You could no longer bear to look at him. You needed to get away. Needed to leave this place while you still had the strength to stand.

You fled. Running as fast your legs could carry you, you weaved through the trees with no thought for direction or destination other than away, away, away.

The moment you turned away, Benjicot realized his mistake, letting his anger over your lack of self preservation win out over the joy he felt when he found you again in these woods.

And perhaps his anger was a result of the shame he felt. Shame for waiting so long to go to you that you had felt the need to put yourself at risk to seek him out.

Benjicot had faced countless opponents and impossible odds, and never once had he wavered. Never once had he questioned his skill or fortitude. But the thought of you being in danger, or gods, someone hurting you, was enough to send him into a panic.

He chased after you.

You might have gotten a head start, but Benjicot was faster. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, and there was no place you could go, no place you could hide, where he would not find you.

Spotting you up ahead, Benjicot surged forward, grasping your arm and pulling you into him. You collided into his chest, nearly sending you both to the forest floor. But Benjicot caught you, both of his hands now resting on your arms to steady you.

You were both breathing heavily. No space existed between you now. You did not understand him. Did not understand why he did not let you escape in peace. You were close to tears but refused to allow Benjicot Blackwood to steal anymore of your dignity.

“Let me go, Blackwood,” you demanded, trying to pull away from his grasp. But Benjicot held firm, tightening his bruising grip on you.

Shaking his head, Benjicot pulled you further into arms, until you stood chest to chest, with your arms caged in between. He was a good head taller than you, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

Your breaths mixed together as the silence dragged out between you. Only when you tried to pull away again did Benjicot finally say, “I have watched you from afar.”

You finally stilled. Eyes widening, you waited for him to continue. “And I know you have watched me, too.”

Color returned to your face, as you tore your eyes away from his searching gaze. “Do not hide from me now, Bracken.” When you failed to respond, Benjicot scoffed, “I never took you for a craven.”

You felt your blood begin to boil. How dare he call you craven. Shoving at his chest with all your strength, you shouted, “The only one craven here is you, Blackwood!”

“Oh, please enlighten me, how am I craven?”

You stopped shoving at his chest, letting all of your frustration and ire rise until all you could see was red. “You dare admit to watching me, yet you refuse to acknowledge my feelings!”

Benjicot flinched at your accusation. Now it was he who refused to look you in the eye.

But you pressed on, “Because if you have been watching me for as long as I have watched you, then there can be no doubt as to my feelings. No doubt as to where my heart lies. But you ignored me for years. And now you have the audacity to mock me when I seek you out?”

Benjicot’s eyes were back on your face, his gaze soft and pleading. A complete departure from the anger and fury he had shown you earlier. This man looked like your Benjicot. The boy who had rescued you. The man who had defended you. The one you loved with all your heart.

His voice was quiet but his words strong, “I am a simple man, my lady. A simple man who needs plain words. What are these feelings of which you speak?”

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you sucked in a breath. You swore that he would have no more pieces of you. Swore that would you put an end to this madness. But your heart would always rule over your head.

Finding your courage, you opened your eyes, and reached for his hand. Bringing his hand to your lips, you pressed a kiss to the cracked knuckles and whispered, “I have loved you ever since we met in these woods all those years ago.”

Benjicot stilled. You were not sure if he was even breathing, but you pushed on, “You occupy all my thoughts and haunt my dreams. You consume me, and I—” You cut yourself off before you could continue.

You tried to remain unaffected, but the longer Benjicot held you, the more your body betrayed you. You felt your blood racing through your veins, felt the heat rising to your cheeks, felt a slickness begin to gather between your legs. You tried to pull away again to give yourself a moment of respite from this torture.

But Benjicot was having none of it.

He watched the way you squirmed under his gaze. Watched the way your chest heaved from the force of your confession. Watched your cheeks grow flush and warm. And when he caught your eyes again and saw your gaze drift to his lips before licking your own, he knew he was a goner.

“My lady,” Benjicot’s voice was like gravel, “had I known you were so afflicted, I never would have left you alone for so long.”

Hauling you closer, Benjicot traced his fingers from your collarbone up your neck, watching as your pulse jumped. Cupping your cheek, he brought his face close to yours, mere inches separating the two of you, and confessed, “From the moment you cut yourself on my dagger, I have loved you.”

Now it was your turn to still. For so long you had waited to hear these words, waited to be in his arms.

Benjicot kissed your forehead, mumbling against your skin, “No one else could ever compare to you, my lady.” He moved to kiss your jaw. “You are the bravest”—a kiss to your cheek—“strongest”—a kiss to your temple—“most beautiful woman I ever met.”

Kissing the corner of your mouth, Benjicot pulled back momentarily to stare into your eyes. “From that day until the end of my days, there will only ever be you.”

You were at your breaking point. You could not hold yourself back any longer. Flinging your arms around his neck, you pulled Benjicot toward you and kissed him.

And oh, what a kiss.

Your advance might have thrown Benjicot initially off guard, but he recovered quickly, remedying the situation and taking control. One hand in your hair and the other at your waist, he moved your head to the position he wanted, slanting his lips over yours and feasting.

His kisses left your breathless. Your head held no thoughts other than more, more, more. Benjicot’s teeth nipped at your lips, forcing your mouth to open and surrender. He wasted no time in stroking his tongue against yours, exploring and claiming. And when his hand moved from your waist to knead your breasts, you moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer.

Your taste, your sounds, your very being—Benjicot wanted it all for himself. You owned him, body and soul. And he was greedy to own you in return.

In the haze of his kisses, you did not realize that your feet no longer touched the ground. Benjicot had lifted you in the air. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, bringing the hardness of him against the softness of you.

Your back was against a tree, but you did not feel the rough bark. You only felt Benjicot’s lips and hands, moving across your flesh, mapping and exploring. But when Benjicot made his way to the bottom of your dress, running his hand over your delicate ankle, he paused and pulled back. There was a question in his eyes—did you wish to continue?

You nodded eagerly. No doubt or hesitation with your choice.

And Benjicot smiled. That wicked, feral smile he donned just before a fight. Another searing kiss to your lips before his hand began to move up your calf to your thigh. He was so close to where wanted him. Where you ached for him.

But Benjicot paused just short of your cunt. And when you whined at his delay, he laughed and asked, “Tell me, my lady. Have you ever touched yourself before?”

Words were beyond you. You felt dizzied and dazed, but you managed a nod.

Benjicot moved his hand another inch higher. Lips grazing your ear and hot breath on your neck. “And tell me, what did you think of when you touched yourself? What did you imagine when you brought your fingers to your warm, wet cunt?”

You wanted to die. This surely must be hell. You shook your heard, too embarrassed and flustered to answer.

Benjicot started to move his hand back down your leg, but you clenched your thighs, trapping his hand between them. Raising your head, you glared at him, but all he did was smile. “I know what you want, my lady. And I am eager to please. All I ask is that you answer the question.”

Wicked, cruel, insufferable man.

But you were desperate. An impossible ache had built inside you, and you knew that Benjicot was the only one who would relieve you.

So you put aside your pride. Clearing your throat, you whispered, “You. I thought of you, Benjicot Blackwood.”

And that was all he needed. Pushing aside your small clothes, he exposed your cunt to the air. You cried out at the feeling, arching against him as he finally slid his hand between your folds.

The first brush of him against you dragged a groan from deep in your throat. Benjicot groaned in reply, delighted at the wetness he found waiting for him. His thumb circled your clit, pressing and dragging and teasing. His other hand worked your breast while his lips pressed into your neck.

It was an assault on all fronts. Your body had never felt so hot. And when he plunged one finger into your core, you bucked your hips in response.

“I thought of you, too.” How he managed to talk, you had no idea. But even through the haze of lust, you heard him. “Thought of you spread naked on my bed when I took myself in hand. Thought of your tight, wet heat on my cock. Thought of how soft you would feel, how perfect you would be for me.”

“Benji—” You whined as he added a second finger. You had never felt so full in your life.

“That’s it,” he murmured, lips against your ears.

You pulled Benjicot’s face away from your neck and captured his lips with your own, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

Benjicot groaned, plunging his fingers in and out, hard and fast. Your existence narrowed to the feeling. You were so close, the tightness becoming nearly unbearable. You just needed one final—

The sound of your name on his lips was your undoing. Release barreled down upon you, so much so that you felt like you could break in half. You cried out Benjicot’s name, as his lips covered yours once again. The kiss was all teeth and tongue. You felt as though you were being devoured.

You clenched around his fingers again, and Benjicot let out a curse. He stroked you through your release until you were limp in his arms, kissing you all the while.

You could barely catch you breath. And when Benjicot finally pulled away and withdrew his hand, you met his stare and lost your breath all over again. Because the smile he gave you now was one you had never seen before. It was soft and tender and just for you. His lady.

You wanted to stay in these woods forever. Your own sanctuary that could not be touched by outside forces. Just when you were about to express that desire, you felt Benjicot tense against you.

And that’s when you heard. Voices. Loud and angry and coming closer by the second.

You shot Benjicot a panicked look and watched as he transformed in front of your eyes. Gone was any trace of softness or warmth, replaced instead by a hard and vicious look that had you trembling.

Bloody Ben now stood before you.

Lowering you to the ground, Benjicot tucked you between his body and the tree. He looked around, trying to decide the best course of action. You could practically see his mind at work, thinking through the various scenarios to get you to safety.

You saw the moment he reached a decision. Leaning down, he pressed one final kiss to your lips and asked, “Do you trust me?”

You did not hesitate. “Of course, I trust—” But before you could finish, your world went dark. Benjicot Blackwood had once again knocked you unconscious.

He only hoped that you would forgive him for what he was about to do.

-- Let me know what you think! And don't worry lovelies--I'm already working on part 3.

taglist: @painted-flag @majoso12 @strollthroughstars29 @a-whiterose

#benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #hotd #hotd x you #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood x reader #bloody ben x reader #benjicot Blackwood imagine #benjicot Blackwood imagines #benjicot Blackwood x you #my fics #bloody ben x you

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eternal-evergreens · 22 days ago

Text

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass - V"｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Non/Con, Mental Breakdown, Virginity Kinks, Age Gaps, Choking, Gagging, Bondage, Alcohol, Drugging, Abduction, Victim Blaming, Reader is just having a Bad Time

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

You aren’t sure how long you were out, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. You’re disoriented when you wake up, unable to so much as comprehend your situation, much less fight against it. You feel static around you as blood rushes through your veins. You can’t hear anything, can’t feel anything but your own body as you struggle to steady your blurry vision. You feel hands all over you, and you dimly register the fact that you’re not being choked anymore.

You ache all over, but it feels distant, in a way. Like you’re feeling someone else’s pain for them. Like your body is not your own. It isn’t until his cock forces itself into your dry cunt, lubed only with the paltry amount of spit from earlier, that you come crashing back into your own body, suddenly feeling very aware of everything that’s going on around—and inside of—you.

You can’t help it; you scream as you feel his tip tear through your hymen and hit your cervix. You feel a hand clamp down on your mouth, but you pay it no mind, your vocal cords continuing to exhaust themselves as you struggle helplessly underneath the man who should have been your caregiver.

He speaks when you finally calm down, giving in to your exhaustion. “Your body was always mine,” he says, but you aren’t listening. “Just like your virginity.” You stare at the wall as he takes you, not knowing if the slickness between your legs is blood or something much, much worse. You don’t look down to check. You can’t. He fucks you with power. Each thrust of his hips is hard enough to have your throat throbbing and your vision speckled with stars. You feel your whole body bounce on the bed, each creak of the frame loud enough that you’re sure the whole orphanage can hear you. It’s kind of late. You wonder if you’re keeping anyone up. Is it cruel to admit a part of you hopes you are? That, somewhere deep inside, you hope you aren’t alone in this? That someone else is suffering with you, even just a little bit?

You allow your thoughts to wander as your body continues to be abused in your own bed. Bailey’s head dips down to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. You jolt slightly, a soft gasp coming from your lips as pain slowly gives way to pleasure. You feel yourself tentatively push back against him, ignoring the hot shame pooling in your stomach from doing such a thing, as you close your eyes and try to pretend your circumstances are different.

Instead of Bailey, you’re with your lover, at your actual home, in your actual bed. You try to pretend the way his length drags against your walls is more pleasurable than painful, imagining yourself moaning instead of grimacing every time he bottoms out and his balls slap against your skin. It’s sort of working, you think, as Bailey picks up the pace. There’s a wet ‘pop’ sound when Bailey unlatches from your breast, his breath hot on your skin. There’s not much of a reprieve from sensation, though, as you feel his lips connect to your neck just as quickly as they’d left your nipple, sucking and biting the sensitive skin between your collarbone and your throat. His hands find their way to your ass, and he lifts you up closer as he massages the flesh of your bum, still ruthlessly fucking your hole.

He’s getting close, you think, as he pounds into you harder still. His breathing has picked up the pace, too, though you’re sure you’re guilty of this as well. With two more power-filled thrusts, Bailey unloads inside of you, tanging his hands in your hair as he brings your head closer in a kiss. It doesn’t last for long, however. He seems to catch himself as soon as he comes down from his high and quickly pulls away from you. He doesn’t so much as glance at you as he rushes out the door. You can hear the sound of a zipper being pulled as he leaves, not bothering to shut the door behind him. His flustered state would have made you laugh if it didn’t come at your expense.

You aren’t sure how long you must have stayed there, staring up into space as various fluids dry and crust on your thighs and sheets, but it must have been at least half an hour, if not longer. By the time you finally climb out of bed and drag yourself to the bathroom, it’s too late for anyone else to be up, so after you wash and drain the tub, you’re free to draw another bath to really take your time in the hot water.

As the water pools up around you again, you try to focus on the way your muscles loosen in the warmth instead of on how you now have to live under the same roof as the man who assaulted you. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, but when you open them again, all you can see are slick, purple tentacles wrapped around your arms, your thighs, your stomach, and your neck.

Your eyes snap open as cold water splashes on the floor. It takes a few seconds of heavy breathing and frantic glancing around for you to realize you must have fallen asleep and dreamed of phantom limbs mimicking your assault.

That’s what you hope it is, anyway.

Still running on adrenaline, you climb from the bathtub and dry yourself off, putting on fresh clothes before you head back to your room. The duvet has a large pool of blood and cum around its center, but the rest of the bedding is fine. Your dress and heels weren’t damaged or dirtied during the assault, but you can’t bear to look at them, so you place them on the duvet and wrap them up, throwing them into a corner to discard later.

When you’re done, you look around your room, struggling to believe that just hours ago, the sight of your new decorations had filled your heart with hope instead of repulsion. Now, you just feel sick. Your stomach churns as you stare at your posters and wallpaper, not even registering the sound of tearing paper until your walls are completely bare again.

The rest is somewhat of a blur, but by the time it’s over, your room is even worse than it was when you got here. There’s torn wallpaper and crumpled posters on the ground, and the walls are sticky with still-drying adhesive, speckled with bits of wallpaper you couldn’t tear off. There’s stuffing everywhere, too. You see a decapitated teddy bear lying defeated in the corner. Most notable, however, would be the new fist-sized hole in the wall. You don’t remember making it, but if the ache in your bloodied knuckles is anything to go off of, it’s your work.

You glance at the time.

04:07

You sigh. You’ll just have to deal with it tomorrow.

You climb into bed but immediately retract as soon as you touch it, feeling as if you’ve just been shocked by a high-voltage current. Your head is spinning, and you feel as if you might empty your stomach at any minute.

Quest failed!

Your bed is uncomfortable. All rest points are reduced by half. Nightmares are more intense. Every rest has a 5% chance of waking you up sore. Save up your funds and buy a comfortable bed!

Optional: Decorate your room to match your taste.

You’ve failed your quest! There is no penalty this time, but be careful not to let it happen too often, or there might be consequences!

Shit, that’s two and a half grand down the drain. What are you gonna do, buy another bed? Would that even help?

You can’t stay here. You need to leave. You need to find Mickey. Unlock the next fragment or whatever the fuck. You just can’t stay here.

You put on your shoes and march right up to the door Mickey’s in, knowing where to find it thanks only to the system’s navigation, and knock quietly but firmly on the door.

“What?! Do you know what time it is?” Someone, Mickey, you assume, whisper yells from inside, door on the handle as they stare up at you from between the crack of the door with disdain.

“Landry knows about you,” you whisper back. “Your name is safe, though. He thinks you’re Mickey. Get the basket, I’ll take my clothes off, we’ll talk.”

“How did you- never mind.” Mickey brings out their magic box or whatever it is, and you remove all your clothing. They check your hair and ears, and you try not to flinch whenever they get too close. “Good-good,” they say. “Okay, if you know about me, and Landry knows about me, then it’s no longer safe-” you put your hand up.

“You need to get out of here. I’ll need to put a USB into Bailey’s computer while it’s on and logged in, break into the safebox at Leighton’s office and take the memory cards, and put in a good word with Landry 'cause you can make him crazy money.” Mickey looks stunned but hands you the USB anyway, even with their jaw still slacked. “Are we good? Can I put my clothes back on?” Mickey hesitantly nods, still looking baffled, and you dress yourself. Then, you head out and walk to school.

It’s dangerous at night, but you need to get this done as soon as possible. You speed-walk the whole way to the industrial alleys and climb the fence, heading into the school grounds. You’re surprised you didn’t run into any trouble along the way, but you’re definitely not upset about it.

You run into a dog as soon as you take a single step towards the school. It growls at you and prepares to attack, but you’re faster, throwing your arms up and chasing the dog intead. It runs off faster than you can chase and leaves you be, allowing you to head into the main office without further issue.

Breaking into the safe is easy enough. You need an S rank in skullduggery to get in on your first try, but even F is capable of picking the lock if given enough time. Sure enough, it was on your sixth attempt that the box finally yielded, and you shoveled everything into your bag. You decide to take a look around the office while you’re at it and find a pack of new flash drives.

You look over at Leighton’s computer. You should have enough time to copy information from Leighton’s computer to one of these drives, but you don’t have the password.

You kick the trashcan on the way out, making a mess of Leighton’s pristine office.

————————— It is Monday, the 12th of September, 2022. -It has been 8 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,799 Pain: Tears well in your eyes Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are tormented Control: You are terrified Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

The sounds of other orphans getting up and getting ready for the day is enough to wake you from your uncomfortable slumber, groggy and more than a little sore. You don’t remember if you dreamed last night or not, but either way, your sleep was far from restful. You consider not getting up at all, honestly, but your makeshift nest is far too uncomfortable to lie in any longer, and with the nightmares that you’re sure to start getting after this, being asleep is no better than being awake. So, you pull yourself up from the pathetic shelter you made last night and change into day clothes. It’s still somewhat early, so Bailey should be in his office. You try not to think any further than that as you leave your room and head into the communal areas of the orphanage. There aren’t any decorations up currently, but you can see remnants from old posters on the walls. Probably Bailey’s doing. You flinch at the thought. Orphans are scattered around. Some chatting, some doing their own thing. You spot one orphan, a slim boy, who looks very anxious. You can see him fluttering around different groups, looking frantic. You approach him, and he flinches when you put a hand on his shoulder.

“Short on an incoming payment?” You ask. He nods. “I can help.” His eyes light up, then freeze. He looks at you with a mix of hope and apprehension.

“What do you want?” “Get Bailey out of his office for ten minutes. Make sure he doesn’t have time to log out of his computer. Tell him someone’s trying to snatch an orphan from the garden again or something else; I don’t care. Just get him out of there.” The boy’s face pales, and he starts to shake his head when you interject. “I’ll give you £1,000.” You don’t think twice about the number—it means nothing in comparison to home. But it’s different for this boy. His eyes widen, but he still looks hesitant. One more push. “C’mon. Would you rather get caught lying and get a few bruises, or miss rent and get sold off as an all-in-one dildo and fleshlight?”

“I’ll do it,” he says immediately. You smile and hand him the cash. A few moments later, you see him and Bailey storm out of the office. You slip in without anyone noticing, and copying everything to the flash only takes a minute or two, so you’re out of the office in record time. +Rebelliousness

You can hardly sit still on the bus, constantly readjusting your position, crossing one leg over the other, then switching. You aren’t sure if you feel anxious or eager or if you’re just simply restless. Either way, the bus seems to take forever to arrive at Harvest Street. When it finally does, you’re off the bus in seconds and entering the pub only minutes after that.

“Mickey showed up,” Landry says. “Strange one. Said you’d have a bunch of SD cards for me to take?” You pass on what you got from Leighton’s office to Landry, and he hands you an envelope. “Thanks. That’s the police master password, along with a £500 thank you for bringing me some new talent.”

“There’s also this,” he says, producing a USB stick from his pocket. “A virus. Wipes computer systems clean. Should be able to cause some trouble. Or make old trouble disappear. Good luck!” You thank him and leave the booth but decide to stay in the pub for a bit of day drinking before you head out. You need to relax, and while you know this may not be the healthiest method of achieving said relaxation, a quick fix is better than nothing. The beer is only five quid, so you buy one and sit down with it as you check your phone. You should have unlocked one of those fragments from completing the quest, right?

Fragment unlocked! No matter how bad things seem, it’s all just a game.

Are you drunk already, or is that just not helpful? It reads like a loading screen tip, for fuck’s sake. What are you supposed to do with this?

You sigh. It doesn’t matter. All you have to do is unlock the fragments. You don’t need to understand them.

You feel the alcohol start to flow through your system as you order a second drink. You feel fuzzy already, and you’re not sure if it’s because you drank so quickly or if your avatar is just simply a lightweight. Either way, you knock back two more drinks and head out, feeling a bit lighter. -£20

You decide to go to the beach next. It’s not a very nice day out, with clouds hanging in the sky and a harsh breeze that never seems to fully go away, so the beach is expectedly not very busy. You don’t have a towel, so you just take your shoes off and sit down on the sand, watching the waves crash violently into the shore.

They almost look like they’re running from something. Desperately trying to get away, to reach the other side. They absorb their competition as they pass. Some don’t make it, they fizzle out before they get the chance. Others do, but they’re no any better off. They reach the shore only to be dragged back by the tide with no hope of ever escaping. They try again, perhaps knowing it’s futile but having nothing else to try, perhaps having forgotten themselves in the struggle, their shape long lost. The noise of the city fades into the background. They’re screaming out at the injustice of it all, you think, as the sounds of crashing waves surround your ears.

You can’t see anything else but the water, you can’t hear anything but the colliding waves, and you can’t smell anything but the salty ocean breeze. The waves are hypnotic in their simplicity and repetitiveness, like a siren singing her song, and you find yourself entranced. No longer part of your own body, you’re nothing more than an observer of the ocean.

You aren’t sure how long you stay out there like that; you can hardly even remember anything that happened, but when you finally become aware of your surroundings again, it’s much darker outside. You think you must have lost time again, but you feel calmer.

You brush the sand off of your bottom and leave, carrying your shoes until you’re back on the pavement.

You stop by the shopping mall on the way home and buy a cheap sleeping bag. The rest of the trip is uneventful. -£20

Your new sleeping area is set up in minutes. It consists only of some blankets, a thin sleeping bag, and a pillow, but you’ll have to make do. You go to look over at the luxury bed you can no longer use in disdain, but something else catches your eye first.

There’s something inside the hole you made last night. You aren’t sure how you didn’t notice it before, but you suppose you had other things on your mind. You step closer to it and realize two things are hidden in there.

Cameras. Different models. Probably left by different people. One of them looks older than the other and has probably been there longer. The first camera was likely left to someone who had access to you early—Bailey or Robin. Of the two, Bailey is more likely to even think of doing this, let alone having the means to actually pull it off. The second camera must have been put in by someone who either only just met you or only just thought of keeping an eye on you. The second model could be anyone, but it’s probably Kylar, since he canonically tries to place a camera in the player’s room even in normal mode.

You reach for the cameras, then hesitate. What will happen if you take them down? If the first one really is Bailey’s, do you really want to make him angry with you again? And if the second one is Kylar’s, then…then he saw what Bailey did to you.

You hurriedly check your phone.

Kylar The Loner Kylar is inconsolable. Fascination: 100% Love: 14% Devotion: 55% Jealousy: 100% Lust: 100%

Fuck. Fuck. You have to resist the urge to throw your phone on the floor. What should you do? What can you do? You can’t stay here; you’re a sitting duck! But is it any better outside?

You glance at the camera that you suspect to be Bailey’s and then rush out the door. You hit a sprint as soon as you pass the orphanage gates, not knowing where you’re going or how to get there.

You’re able to get a few blocks away when trip on a rock in the darkness, falling and scraping your knees painfully. You grimace as you stand back up, not even bothering to look before you’re back on your feet—walking this time.

A sense of fear creeps up on you just as your phone buzzes. You know this feeling.

Something is watching you.

You don’t register the acute pain in your leg until after you hit the pavement. There’s nothing to break your fall. You hear a gasp as you lose consciousness.

—————————

There’s a giant blue game UI floating in front of you when you finally come to. It’s the first thing you notice. Not the sluggish feeling in your head, not the swelling, stinging feeling on your cheek from when you hit the ground, or even the scrapes on your knees. No, all you see is blue.

Note: Your current bindings make accessing the system via phone impossible. For ease of use, system notifications have automatically been switched to screenless mode. Buttons have been replaced with eye-tracking. To select an option, blink two times in rapid succession while looking at the option you’d like to select. >Ok

You blink twice at the prompt, slowly. The effects of the drug are still in your system, and they’re making your eyelids heavy. You’re worried it might have been too slow to register, but the text updates itself anyway.

New quest unlocked! You have been kidnapped! As the darling of this world, this kind of thing will happen to you very frequently. Prove that you have what it takes to survive in this world before it’s too late! >Escape Kylar’s manor. Rewards: x1 World Fragment Time limit: 7 days remaining Penalty: Death

What the fuck?

Death? Death?!

The shock seems to ignite a fighting spirit inside of you, and you struggle against both the lingering effects of the drug and your restraints, but the drugs seem to be stronger, and you can hardly even rub your wrists together. You stop when the door opens, though your struggle was so mild that he might not have noticed even if you continued.

Fuck. This is fucked. You’re so fucked.

“G-good morning, my love,” Kylar says sheepishly. He’s standing in the doorframe right now, not fully in but not fully out either. He seems more nervous than usual. “I, I hope you slept well.” You stare at him. He tenses up at your gaze but still enters the room, shutting the door behind him.

He approaches you with the kind of care and caution you’d use when approaching a wounded animal, dropping to his knees in front of you. Gently, he reaches a hand out to your face, caressing the bruise on your cheek. “I-I’m sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking. I was just so panicked when I saw you that I just shot without thinking that you’d–” He starts sobbing. “Please forgive me.”

You’ve been through Kylar’s abduction scene before—both of them. You know that every choice you make will have some kind of negative or lewd consequence. Even saying nothing at all will make things worse for you.

“I can do that,” you say, words slightly slurred but still discernable. “But you need to earn it.”

“A-anything,” he says. ”I’ll do anything.”

“Even let me go?” Kyar’s expression falters, then darkens. “It’s not safe out there.” He looks away from you. “You could be taken from me at any moment.”

“I have the pepper spray you gave me.” “Then why didn’t you use it last night?!” +++Jealousy You feel your stomach lurch. “You…you were raped, right? You didn’t want it, right?!” You can’t find the words to respond, even as he begins shaking you. This only seems to make it worse, as his grip on you tightens. You hardly feel it, but you aren’t sure if that’s the partial paralysis or just his lack of strength at play. He’s mumbling something to himself, but you can’t make out the words until his volume suddenly rises again.

“But you stopped fighting, didn’t you?! Does that mean you enjoyed it?! Does it?!” Coming out of your stupor, you’re finally able to respond with a weak shake of your head. You can hardly even make the movement due to whatever’s in your system, and Kylar seems to take that as hesitance. He bolts up, pushing you and the chair you’re tied to over. Your arms, which were tied behind your back, end up breaking your fall. You cry out as you hit the floor, pain searing through your non-dominant wrist. You think it might be broken. Sprained, definitely.

Kylar’s hands fly to your neck, and panic takes over. “NO!” You scream, flailing wildly as panic allows your muscles normal function for just seconds before falling back to impairment. Your outburst, while short-lived, seems to have proven effective, however, as Kylar quickly climbs off of you.

“W-what have I done…?” He scrambles to get you off the floor. Kneeling beside you, he clings and grasps at you like a hungry peasant before his king. Except this king is tied up and at his subject’s complete mercy. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, my love! Forgive me, please! Please!” Tears prick your eyes, but this could be your chance to persuade him.

“You broke my wrist,” you say. “I need to go to the hospital.” Kylar looks at you in alarm.

“D-does it hurt??”

You nod. “Badly.” As if to further emphasize your point, a single tear rolls down your left cheek. “I need to go to the hospital. You have to untie me.” Kylar looks like he’s about to nod, but then frowns. He shakes his head.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says. “I can’t. You’ll run away.”

“It won’t heal right,” you say. “I could lose function in my whole arm.” Kylar, rather incomprehensibly, seems to brighten at the suggestion of you becoming permanently disabled.

“I-I can take care of you!” He says, a dark glint in his eyes. “Forever.”

…You’re going to have to find another way out.

—————————

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81folklore · 1 year ago

Text

heaven - PIASTRI - part 3

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: oscars girlfriend attends her first grand prix and the public get to see just how proud she is of oscar

authors note: ive honestly missed writing for oscar and priv!reader so we are back in honor of oscars FIRST EVER WIN AND INCREDIBLE SPRINT RACE!! im genuinely so proud of oscar and im honestly in shock. i also follow ZERO wag pages so i have no clue what they are like, if people actually follow them etc.

authors note 2: short-ish and sweet for OSCARS FIRST WIN?? i started writing this about 30 minutes before the sprint race so i had no clue where this was going to go but HE WON!!

part 1 part 2 masterlist

f1wagupdates

liked by user5, user81, user9 and 7,289 others

yn entering the paddock for the first time today! she followed shortly after oscar, spoke to some oscar/mclaren fans and handed a few who were unable to meet oscar, on his way in, some signed things she had. we absolutely love her already!!

view comments

user81: omg she’s literally the sweetest thing😭

user17: I LOVE HER ALREADY

user61: the fact that oscar fans already love her🫶🫶

user9: oh she looks so cute!!

user72: i was one of the girls she gave something too! she said she had been following behind oscar and kept an eye on anyone who he missed to give them something after he left. she was very very shy, but she made sure to speak to everyone who oscar missed and was asking us questions about us, overall she was very sweet!!

user22: this makes me love her even more😭and congrats on the signed stuff!! do you mind me asking what it was?

user72: thank you! and of course, we all got something different! i got a signed polaroid of oscar (im still in disbelief?! and it must have been one she took herself bcs i couldnt find the photo online anywhere), someone a bit down from me got what looked like a drivers card and i saw someone else get a picture of his car!

user22: A POLAROID?? oh you won😭😭

user1: i wonder if we will see her again

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 9,619 others

first qualifying in the paddock was a rollercoaster of emotions, not the result we were hoping for, expected or wanted but its ok because oscars gonna smash it tomorrow and we’ll pretend today didnt happen!!

view comments

oscarpiastri: glad you had fun🤍

oscarpiastri: my goodluck charm wasnt goodlucking today

yourusername: dont say thattt☹️ill try and be extra lucky tomorrow promise!!

oscarpiastri: i love you

yourusername: i love you more🤭

user3: the photo difference😭

user14: loved seeing you in the garage today

yourfriend3: i love you but those photos😭😭

yourusername: stoooop i was so nervous all day😭

yourfriend7: wish oscar luck from all of us back home!

oscarpiastri: 👍👍

user81: u are so cute☹️

user2: so unfair how they told oscar during the interview!!

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,182 others

changed outfits but we are ready for the sprint!!

tagged oscarpiastri

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri: love you lots and lots, thank you for coming🧡

yourusername: I LOVE YOU!! and you dont have to thank me, ill always stay with you🤍🤍

liked by yourusername, mitchevans_ and 817,175 others

PIASTRI STORMS TO SPRINT POLE IN QATAR!🤩🔥

He just keeps getting better and better!

view comments

mclaren: YESSSSSS!!!👏👏👏

user6: P1ASTRI

yourusername: INCREDIBLE🤩🤩

user18: more than deserved!

user73: absolute legend

yourusername added to their story

seen by oscarpiastri and 6,289 others

user6: AHHHHHH

user81: LOOK AT HIM GO

oscarpiastri: ☺️☺️

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 10,278 others

oh how i obsessively adore you.. today you took your first f1 pole position, hours later you became a formula one race winner (idc if it was a sprint you still won!!)

i have been on this incredible journey with you long before your first f2 race. i was by your side at your first f2 win and im still by your side now youve won in f1

i know how much this win means to you, i know how much you wanted to prove yourself to everyone and you have. you never fail to amaze me, especially coming back after the shit show that was yesterday

you are truly incredible and you are so so special🐨

i love you so much, congratulations🧡

tagged oscarpiastri

view comments

user61: WHAT IF I STARTED SOBBING

user11: THE KOALA😭😭

user72: so deserved🧡incredible drive!!

user68: the f2 race winner picture😭😭the f1 race winner picture😭😭THE SMILEY INTERVIEW PICTURE😭😭

oscarpiastri: my favorite goodluck charm🧡

oscarpiastri: thank you so much for sticking with me through it all

oscarpiastri: i appreciate you so much my love

yourusername: you are so special, lovely🩵

landonorris: usually i hate your sappy posts but ill make an exception this time..congrats mate!!

oscarpiastri: you too mate!

yourusername: knew id get you to love these posts eventually🤭

formula2: we’re so proud of our aussie🥹🐨

oscarpiastri and yourusername added to their stories

seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 722,519 others

*text on first photo reads: my favourite thing is when i open my phone after a race and i see the photos yn sent me during the race🧡* *text on second photo reads: i love seeing my boy do what he loves*

oscar’s replies:

user52: shes so cute☹️

user12: tell me that was when you won the race and not before

user61: where can i find someone like her😭

yourusername: babyyy i didnt know youd share these😭😭

oscarpiastri: just had to show everyone how grateful i am for you🤍

user49: get yourself someone who supports you the way yn supports oscar!!

yn’s replies:

user17: oh i love you guys so much

yourfriend2: we are all so proud of oscar!!

oscarpiastri: i love you so much more than i can ever express

yourusername: osc☹️☹️ i hold so much love and adoration for you

oscarpiastri: wait when did you take this photo??

yourusername: i watched the final lap in the bathroom so i could sob in peace😭

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #★ private oscar #f1 insta au

2K notes · View notes

giddyfatherchris · 6 days ago

Text

A movie i've seen before III

pairing. bang chan x f!reader

type. not requested, a little fluff and a whole lot of angst

warnings. f!reader, crying, relationships issues, trust issues, angst angst ANGST

wc. 4k

a/n. here we go part 3!! this one will be rough LMAO it took me so long to write it and it made me so angsty when i did buuuuuut i kinda love it and ive been having a whole lot of fun writing sm angst even though im so nervous to post this since its not in my "usual" style… anyway i hope you’ll enjoy mwah xx oh and! i love to listen to music when im writing and reading so here’s a few song i had on repeat while writing this: guilty as sin - taylor swift, ceilings - lizzy mcalpine, i wish i hated you - ariana grande (in this order specifically!)

dont forget to tell me if you want to be added to the tag list for the next part x

part I part II

(pics are not mine! credit to the owners!)

The streets were softly illuminated. Restaurants and little bars were stuffed with people laughing and enjoying the gorgeous night. You looked around and felt a wave of glee wash over you. You loved people-watching, the freedom of the soft wind dancing through your hair, and most of all, you loved being here with him.

Rehearsals had been a flying success. The boys had been so excited to see some of their friends and the day flew by in a second. When you returned to the hotel, you should have been exhausted from such an intense and packed day. Still, all you felt was excitement and energy course through your blood at the prospect of the coming evening. Once you made sure the other boys were settled, they all encouraged you to go out, have some fun, and take advantage of being in the famous French city. Even Felix gave you an encouraging smile as you headed out, Chan by your side.

At first, he had been reluctant about your night out with his leader. He was scared for your heart. At the same time, he knew how hard you always worked and as he helped you decide on an outfit, he realized it had been a long time since he saw you this excited. So despite his reserves, he helped you figure out a cute outfit with a genuine smile. You deserved to enjoy the city and have fun after all your hard work. No matter what would come out of this night, he would be there for you and that's what mattered the most.

Even though you had spent the last few weeks making sure you kept a certain distance between you and the man at your side, you decided not to care about it tonight. You were tired, extenuated from trying to guard your heart. Chan's attitude in the past few weeks seemed different. Maybe Felix was wrong, perhaps he was ready for something more. So tonight you would be yourself, and enjoy whatever happened. You decided you deserved it. So you didn't refrain from doing anything you might have done before or wanted to do now. You let Chan hold your hand as you walked through the city. You let him hand-feed you a bite of his plate as you chatted in the restaurant. You let him take pictures of you as you walked near the Seine, an honest smile on your lips. You didn't hold back from replacing his curls once the wind had disheveled them. You didn't hold back from laying your head on his shoulder as you looked at the magical view.

You hadn't noticed, but every little touch or attention planted seeds of hope in your heart.

As for him, Chan seemed to beam at the returned normalcy of your relationship. He was more touchy than ever, a sparkle illuminating his eyes as he made jokes with the sole purpose of gorging himself on the sight of the adorable crinkles around your eyes. He shivered at the feather-light touch of your fingers on him when you made sure he looked perfect for some pictures he intended to post on Instagram for his dear STAYs. You gave a toothy grin as you pinched his cheeks before stepping away for more pictures. He didn't hesitate before asking a stranger with a broken French if they could snap one of you two. An amused light danced in your eyes, and you took a sharp breath when you felt his hand slide on your hips, bringing you closer to him for the picture. You lifted your eyes for a millisecond, a foreign but gentle expression on your face. He looked at you with the softest, most tender smile, before you gave him one in return, and rested your head and hand on his chest. You could swear you felt the thundering beat of his heart beneath his shirt. Or maybe you were mistaking it for your own, reverberating in your whole body.

"Vous êtes très mignons," complimented the stranger with a kind smile and a subtle wink.

You thanked him with rosy cheeks, not daring to comment. Chan came up behind you, asking what the stranger had said exactly, but you barely registered the words as you looked at the pictures on your phone. They were stunning. The lights, the view, but most strikingly, the way you looked together. Your heart skipped a beat as you swiped to see the picture the man had taken when you weren't posed yet. When you were still looking at Chan with that surprised and delighted expression and he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing on earth. He saw the picture and put his hand on your shoulders.

"They're beautiful," he said in a hushed voice as if the emotion currently gripping you had its claws dug deep in him too.

You looked back at him with a smile, trying to slow the fast pace of your beating heart. Ancient fears tried grabbing at your heart, but you pushed them away, holding on to your promise. He nodded towards the street, encouraging you to keep walking. His hand grabbed yours effortlessly and squeezed once before he started to walk. Soon, the Eiffel Tower appeared, and you couldn't hold a gasp from escaping your lips.

It was beautiful, stark on the starry night sky, illuminated like a beacon in the dark. Chan chuckled at your marvel and looked fondly at you as you ushered him to walk faster.

You settled on a park bench, his arm going around your shoulders as you cuddled into his side.

"This is perfect," you whispered after a moment of silent contemplation.

"It is," he answered, his lips so close that if he moved a little they would connect with your forehead.

"I'm really happy to be here with you. Thank you for everything."

The man's heart tightened at your words. "No, thank you," his words felt choked and you backed away enough to face him. "You are so amazing. You're the best at handling us and you’re you're so organized. I don't know how we would deal without you and I don't mean just at work. You're truly such a special person to us... to me." Stars danced in your eyes as you looked at him, so open, so inviting. "Thank you for being in my life. I don't know what I would do without you." Softly his lips touched your forehead in a tender kiss. You closed your eyes relishing in the warmth they spread on your skin. Never before had he been so honest about his feelings in your regard. The little declaration made your heart beat even faster. Seeds of hope were slowly blossoming into small, delicate flowers. Maybe, just maybe your proximity tonight meant more for him than you imagined.

Your eyes stayed closed even as he pulled away, even as he softly stroked the side of your face with his thumb. You were so scared to open them, terrified to know what would happen, what you would read on his angelic face. He brought you closer, so close you could feel his breath mingling with yours. You waited, incapable of opening your eyes.

"Y/n," he uttered softly. "Please, look at me."

You obeyed, softly batting your eyelashes, and felt electrified as the intensity contained in his eyes struck you. His gaze slowly tumbled to your soft lips, slightly opened, puffing each breath. His eyes came back up a second with a silent question. You knew he would not do anything before you said yes and it made your heart bloom as you nodded imperceptibly. And just like that, he linked his plush lips with yours. It was earth-shattering in a soft and shaking to the core way.

You backed away for a second to catch your breath and this time was the one to lift your hand, softly pulling at his shirt as you kissed him once more. This second kiss was still soft, but so deep, so full of emotions. It made your hands tremble. You moved in tandem, both the only people in the world who knew the rhythm of this foreign dance. The kiss made you feel tingly like nothing else maintained you to the earth except for his hands on your cheek and his lips on yours. It grew, both of you wanting, needing more. Your hands went up to his jaw, softly caressing the soft skin there, the skin you had wished to touch so many times. A low grumble echoed in his chest, the vibration almost making you purr back. You separated softly, slowly, stealing little kisses before resting your foreheads together, catching your breaths. His thumb fell on your bottom lip, softly plucking it apart from the top one. He was enthralled by the shallow breath you exhaled. Slowly, but surely you remembered where you were. You remembered you were sitting on a bench in France, and you realized you had just kissed. Panic slowly spread through your gaze, threatening to overpower the feeling of daze you had been previously bathed in. He noticed and a shadow seemed to pass in his eyes but before you could analyze it or say something he kissed your lips again. You had no idea what that little peck meant, and he didn't seem to know either but still, he smiled.

"You want to go back?" he whispered, his head still pressed to yours. You nodded quickly and took his hand as you walked back, your mind racing even as it clawed to stay in the daze it had been in for the whole night.

He held your hand on the way back until you felt its warmth leave yours to replace a few errant strands of his hair and didn't find it again. You tried not overthinking. He was allowed not to touch you at all times even after you had shared a kiss. And the fact that he had been all over you all night and suddenly wouldn't hold your hand didn't mean anything, right? You tried reasoning with yourself but couldn't deny that the sudden loss of his touch made an insidious cold creep into your bones.

As you approached the hotel and entered the lobby, Chan was so very polite and cordial. He kept his gaze straight forward and gave a polite smile to the few staff you encountered but didn't say a word to you. Long gone was the laid-back and giggly man you had spent the evening with. The ride in the elevator was silent, and not the kind of comfortable one you had experienced so many times. This one was heavy, full of meaning. You could feel regret emanating from his every gesture. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes but you held on, not wanting him to know how much this affected you.

Felix had warned you that Chan did not have the space in his life for a partner. You knew it, but still, you allowed yourself to let down your guard, and enjoy your time with him. What happened tonight could never happen again. The way this sole kiss had made you feel was to be used as a warning. If one night with him, carefree, had made you feel such a way... you had to keep your distance and be careful. If you let this go on, it would destroy you. You knew it now. Doing this tonight was a mistake because you didn't just like him. You were incontestably in love with Christopher Chan Bahng. And he wasn't and couldn't be because of everything he was.

He walked you to your room and stopped in front of the door. With your hand on the handle, you looked back at him, trying and failing to hide the pain in your eyes.

"Y/n, about tonight I-..." he started.

"Don't," you breathed out. "I know Chan. It won't happen again. I know it didn't mean anything." He shuffled in place, not even denying your claim. Your heart crumpled in pieces, nausea seizing you. "Don't worry about it," you finally whispered as you closed the door on him, on the possibility of him and everything he meant to you.

The little light of hope you felt earlier had been brutally put out. Delicate flowers ripped from their soil with an all-encompassing pain.

You got up the next day feeling like you had been ran over by a truck. Usually, you were a fast and heavy sleeper, but insomnia had seized you until the late hours of the night. But concert day would show you no pity. You had a job to do, and so you plastered a smile on your face and focused on the tasks at hand. You concentrated on compartmentalizing and acting like nothing happened, telling the boys about your amazing night, while omitting the kiss. The show went splendidly well, the boys gained many new supporters with this performance it was nothing short of a flying success. You struggled to feel anything as they smiled at you and spoke excitedly on the drive back to the airport. Once on the plane, you watched Chan sit down with a sour feeling in your chest. In the next row, Felix signaled for you to sit next to him but you couldn't. You hadn't told him the truth about your night, you weren't ready to face the possible 'I told you so' or worse, his tender compassion. Spotting an empty seat beside Minho, you stopped in front of him. "Can I sit here?" At his questioning look you allowed him to see an ounce of the sadness you carried. "Please, I just... don't want to be disturbed," you shared in a small voice.

Immediately his eyes took on a protective expression, he nodded and patted the window seat next to him. Relieved to know no one would get past your protector, you allowed sleep to swallow you and your pain, only waking up once you landed in Korea.

Cars sporadically zoomed by, their lights blinding you and making your eyes squeeze in pain, which actually wasn't that bad a thing considering how tired you were. The zaps of light were at least keeping you awake. The intense few days had taken a great toll on everyone, and the 12-hour flight on top did not help. Still, being the best one in shape you volunteered to drive. Chan in the passenger seat silently stared out the window while the boys were piled up in the back, sleeping peacefully.

You rubbed your eyes for the tenth time, hoping to finally get rid of the fatigue weighing on your bones that made your eyelids feel so damn heavy.

"If you're tired, I can drive."

You turned your head to find Chan staring at you. "I'm fine."

"I don't think you are. You have been rubbing your eyes and puffing for 20 minutes now. I got plenty of rest, I can drive the rest of the way."

You tightened your grip on the wheel, "I told you I didn't need you to."

"It's dangerous to drive when you're tired."

"Are you done?!" you lashed out. Turning your head to look at him you swerved on the road. Luckily there hadn't been any other cars, but your heart was beating out of your chest and you suddenly felt wide awake.

Chan stared at you with wide eyes for a second. "Okay, that's it. Pull over."

"No-"

"Y/n. Right now you're putting yourself and my members in danger. I can't allow that."

The sternness of his tone and a look in the mirror at the boys made you pull begrudgingly. You slammed the door and avoided his eyes while you switched sides. He tried to get ahold of you to apologize, but you pulled back as if the contact of his hands on your skin burned you.

"Y/n what's going on?"

"What's going on is that I'm tired. I'm exhausted," you sarcastically chuckled.

He wiped his eyes and sighed. "Listen, I get that but we all are."

You tried to bite your tongue to stop the words from coming out of your mouth but in the end, you couldn't. Maybe it was the extreme fatigue or emotional turmoil you had been going through for the past few weeks but you simply couldn't. You heard yourself speak words you never thought you would. "No. I mean that being in love with you is exhausting."

His arms slackened at his sides as his eyes grew big as saucers.

"You heard me right. I am in love with you. I should have known before, but our night in Paris confirmed that."

"Y/n... I can't give you or anyone anything more, specifically because of that. Being with me is exhausting. I already know that."

Irritation lit a fire in your blood. You were so done with this stupid man and his stupid beliefs that made him act like some fucking martyr, like the center of his soul was the problem while it had never been.

"Can you please stop? I'm tired of hearing you whine about how exhausting you are. No. It's not the actual loving you that's exhausting. You are lovable Chris as much as anyone else and to me even more than others. What's been exhausting is those past few weeks, this night we spent together. It's officially knowing you will never be able to return my feelings but knowing you still acted like you could. Holding my hand, looking at me with that smile. Telling me those nice things. Kissing me like I'm the best thing in your life. It's you playing with me that's killing me."

Tears of rage started rolling down your cheeks and for once you didn't want to keep them in. You wanted him to see how much pain he caused you.

"I never played with you I promise. I really do like you and enjoy being with you. That was never fake."

You let out an icy, short laugh. "And you think that makes it better? That is the definition of playing with someone Chan. A minute ago you told me you couldn't give me anything more. Now you're saying you meant everything. You're admitting to doing all those things even though you knew you never wanted more. And don't try to lie and tell me you were doing this for me or to try and see if you could actually be with me. You only did it for yourself, with your interests in mind. You wanted what I can give you without actually committing."

He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to keep eye contact with you. He seemed defeated and his silence was nothing short of a confirmation of everything you accused him of. For the first time a word you would have never used in a thousand years to describe him came to mind. You took a step closer, forcing him to look into your eyes.

"I'm pretty sure you enjoy being with me. Everyone wants to be loved, and feel they matter but you act like you don't because you're afraid of what it entails. You're a coward," you seethed. "You build this wall around you, pretending you don't want anyone to love you the way you love them because you want to protect them, because you are just so noble and kind." You paused and scoffed, allowing time for your words to sink in. "But the truth is you're just scared. You're scared shitless Christopher. Scared not to be enough. Scared to be rejected. Scared to experience pain and loss. Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE is scared of those things. The difference is we still try."

You took another step, your hands floating up to his face. "I know it means more to love you than it would mean to experience pain and fear." His face contorted as he tried to keep in tears. Your rage softened for a second and you rested your hand on his broad chest. Immediately his hand covered up yours. He took a breath, on the edge of saying something but you wouldn't allow it.

"At least that's what I used to believe." You slipped your hands from his and backed away. "I don't think I can anymore. Not when I have been shown so clearly that my feelings are not respected and understood for what they truly are. I love you, Chris. All I want to do is support and be there for you. I thought you just needed me to prove the depth of my love and I did so for the past year. I thought it would reassure you and kill that fear in your heart. I always thought you were such a kind and loving soul, that you just needed to see I really did love you for all you are. Now I'm starting to think maybe you are as emotionless as you try to make it seem to everyone." His brows furrowed at the accusation. "And you know what? I could even forgive that. I could forgive you if this was how you felt and you were honest with me about it. But no. You keep acting like you can one day return my feelings. You keep stringing me along." Your voice broke on the last words. It was hard to admit the truth. He had broken you in ways you could never explain. You were vulnerable, pathetically screaming at him from the side of the road. But you wouldn't stop. Now that you allowed yourself to be honest, words kept tumbling out of your mouth uncontrollably. You felt a rush to your head, you felt dizzy, feverish. "And you know what's the worst about it? I know about all of this and still, I can't even get rid of those stupid feelings. I wish I could trust myself not to fall further in love with you but I can't. Every time I see you it all comes back. I can't forget your stupid smile and your stupid dimples and your stupid hugs and that stupid kiss we shared."

A deep breath escaped your tired body. "I wish I hated you."

Those tiny, hushed-out words felt like a direct punch to the gut. Physically incapable of speaking, your words echoed in his head eclipsing any other thoughts.

You drew a painful breath. It was over. You said what needed to be said. And even if it did feel good in the moment, you were left an empty shell. Silently, you both got back in the car. Chan took your place in the driver seat while you sat with your hood pulled up facing the window. In the back, seven boys acted as if they were still asleep even when they had heard everything.

🏷️ list: @httpdwaekki @omgsecretsecret @lovesunshinefelix @luvstaymin @jupire @nebugalaxy @drewsandsebastianswife @whyyougottadothatbro @parisanmorovati @greyyeti @chanssmiles @wildtokay @my-neurodivergent-world @xotinytinaxo @ramadiiiisme @potentialgay

#ilya writes #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han skz #felix skz #seungmin skz #i.n skz #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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3igbootyl0ver · 2 months ago

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who hurt you? [i]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Y/N struggles with unspoken feelings for Tara and is shut out when trying to help her after discovering possible abuse from her girlfriend.

word count: 1521

warnings: mentions of abuse, bruises, angst

a/n: hellooo, this is my first time writing in these type of situations (about abuse) so I apologize for any inaccuracy. I'm just kind of experimenting with this fic plus I'm not sure how many parts will it take to complete it. As always, any feedback is appreciated <3

part [ii] | part [iii] | part [iv] | part [v]

“Let’s go! One more lap!” Coach Melissa’s voice cut through the air, sharp and firm. The team pushed forward, legs aching with every step. Your legs felt like they were made of jelly. With each stride growing heavier than the last, you fought to keep them moving. The fatigue was relentless, creeping up like a shadow, threatening to overtake you. Your muscles screamed in protest, and the rhythmic pounding of your feet on the track seemed to get slower and slower.

The pressure was heavy on you. Being the captain of the Blackmore High soccer team means handling the heavy amount of responsibilities and standards to upkeep. You would be up for the state tournament for the finals in a week, and you were afraid that you were going to disappoint your team and coach, eager to win and experience the triumph of being the champions. It won’t be easy, especially when you’re up against your rival team, Woodsboro High. You have to—no, need to—win against them since it’s your last year in high school, especially when you harbor a deep loathing for their captain, Amber Freeman. Her name wasn’t new to you; she has been dating your friend, Tara.

Tara has been your friend since middle school. You guys were inseparable back then, sharing everything from food to secrets and dreams about the future. Even through all the awkward stages of adolescence, Tara was always by your side, offering a comforting presence when things felt uncertain. You’ll have to admit, you started having feelings for Tara a year ago, noticing her in a way you hadn’t before, captivated by her doe eyes and her personality. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to deny what was growing inside you. You imagined all sorts of scenarios in your head, rehearsing the words over and over, hoping one day you would find the courage to tell her.

But the day never came; your plans to confess your undying love to her were halted and shoved down the dumpster when you found out she started dating Amber six months ago. The universe must’ve hated you; finding out your best friend was in love with someone else the same day you wanted to confess felt like a punch in the gut, a cruel reminder that you had waited too long, that you had kept your feelings hidden for so long that someone else had stepped in.

You ignored and neglected your feelings, pushing them into the corner of your mind, hoping they’d disappear. You couldn't risk ruining your friendship with Tara, especially now. It hurt too much to see her with Amber, but the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward or lose her entirely. Recently, you’ve been noticing her pulling herself away from you. She wouldn’t answer your texts or calls or act like she didn’t see you in the hallways. But you would see her post on her social media, always being with Amber.

It hurt—a deep, sharp ache that seemed to pierce straight through your chest, leaving you breathless. It wasn’t just a passing pang; it was a constant, gnawing pain that lingered, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. Every time you saw Tara with Amber, laughing, holding hands, something inside you twisted painfully, as though a part of you was being slowly ripped away. It felt like your heart was caught in a vice, tightening with every smile Tara gave to Amber, every word she spoke about her. It was the kind of hurt that made it hard to breathe, hard to think, like you were suffocating under the weight of all the words you could never say. You’ve decided to shove your feelings down the drain and focus on getting your grades up before graduating and leading your team for your final year at Blackmore High.

You were walking with your friend Mindy, who was also on the soccer team, as the two of you made your way to class. The crisp morning air after the exhilarating and tiring practice made the walk a bit more refreshing, but the weight of everything going on in your mind made it hard to truly enjoy. Mindy, as always, was complaining about the harsh punishments he had to do by Coach Melissa, gaining a deep sense of hatred for your coach.

“She’s nuts, man!” Mindy ranted, venting her feelings about her absurd method of training. You smiled and nodded along, trying to keep your focus on his words, but your mind kept drifting back to Tara.

Mindy glanced over at you, noticing your silence. “Hey, what’s up? You’ve been kinda quiet today. Something on your mind?” She nudged you lightly with her elbow, clearly oblivious to the storm swirling inside you.

“Nothing, man. It’s just... Have you been noticing Tara has been acting distant lately? She hasn’t been to school regularly. Has she been talking to you or Chad?”

“Oh! That’s what I wanted to ask you about. I found her in the bathroom a few days ago. Tara said had some bruises around her arms. Tara was trying to cover it up and just shrugged it off, saying she fell down the stairs or something..”

The world seemed to tilt for a moment, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. Bruises? Tara? No. It couldn’t be. Tara was always so careful, so strong. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Or would she? You could feel a knot tighten in your stomach, and your mind began racing, replaying every interaction you’d had with her recently, trying to make sense of it.

“Tara would never...,” you muttered, almost to yourself, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered. "Are you sure? Maybe she just bumped into something." Mindy's face was serious now, her usual easygoing expression gone. "I don’t know, man. Chad said it didn’t look like something she could’ve just gotten from falling. And Tara’s been acting a little off lately, like, way more distant than usual."

Your stomach twisted further. Tara had been distant—now that you thought about it, she'd been a little quieter, more closed off, not the same carefree friend you’d known for so long. But bruises? It didn’t add up. “Maybe we should talk to her,” you suggested, your voice betraying the concern building inside. “I mean, if something’s going on... we need to be there for her.”

Mindy nodded slowly, looking just as worried. "Yeah. But if Tara's covering it up, you know she’s not gonna want to talk about it. She’s always been like that, right? Stubborn." The silence between you both grew thick, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. You both knew that if something was truly wrong, Tara wouldn’t come forward easily. It was hard to imagine her going through something like that alone, but it seemed like she was. And you, you didn’t know what to do.

One afternoon, you finally made up your mind and talked to her. You couldn’t just sit by and watch anymore. You found her standing by her locker, her head down as she fiddled with her phone, looking like she was on the verge of crying. You almost hesitated, but you knew you had to speak up. “Tara,” you said, your voice tentative as you approached.

She stiffened at the sound of your voice, quickly wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater before glancing up at you with a guarded expression, her posture immediately closing off. “What is it, Y/N?” Her tone was cool, but there was an edge to it, as if she was preparing for a confrontation.

You swallowed, trying to find the right words. “Tara, are you—” you hesitated, unsure what to say. “The bruises... Are you okay?” Tara's face hardened almost instantly. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if trying to protect herself from more than just the physical cold. “I’m fine, okay?” she snapped, her voice sharp. “It’s nothing. Just..personal stuff.”

You took a careful step forward, trying to keep your tone gentle. “Tara, I— Is it Amber?”

“I said I’m fine!” She cut you off, her eyes flashing with frustration. “Why does it matter to you anyway?” Her defensive walls were up, and the more she spoke, the more distant she seemed. You froze, feeling the sting of her words. It wasn’t like Tara to shut people out like this. Your Tara.

“It matters because I care about you. I don’t care if we don’t talk anymore. I’m worried, Tara.” You said, your voice shaking. Tara’s eyes flashed. She didn’t want to hear it.

“I don’t need anyone’s help; I’m fine.” Without another word, she turned and walked away. You stood there, watching her go, feeling the weight of her defensiveness hanging in the air. The look in her eyes said it all—she wasn’t ready to talk, and she wasn’t about to let anyone in. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just lost your chance to help her, and a part of you wondered if she’d ever let anyone close enough to see the truth.

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a/n: I hope this is up to standard lol, I won't be promising a next part. I'm not experienced enough to write these type of sensitive topics or just writing in general lol. i know the pacing is a little messed up hehe maybe I should disappear and never write again and delete this account idk

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x y #scream #tara carpenter

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sugoi-and-spice · 8 months ago

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For the first time in his life, Tomura Shigaraki has full control of his quirk. With this newfound freedom, there is so much that he wants to do. And it just so happens that you are at the very top of that list.

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Contains: GN!Pronouns, Smut, Soft Shigaraki, Penetrative Sex (Reader Receiving), Oral Sex (Reader Recieving), Pre-Paranormal Liberation War, Post-PLF Manga Spoilers tho, Established Relationship, Alcohol, Massage, League Shenanigans. (Honestly, no crazy CW's with this one lol. It's just fluff and smut and angst lol)

Notes: I tried to write something wholesome to try and heal our mourning Shig-simp hearts... It had mixed results lol.

AO3 Link

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

That seemed a little too easy.

It’s the first thought that crossed Shigaraki’s mind when he came to on the Doctor’s operating table. Don’t get him wrong, the time Ujiko had spent vivisecting him from finger to finger had been hell on earth, but it seemed to go by a little too quickly for four months.

“That’s because it’s only been a week,” Ujiko explained as he approached Shigaraki with a paper cup of water — an absolutely pathetic offering considering the world of pain the man had just mercilessly put him through.

But Shigaraki took it anyway.

“Didn’t realize that there were going to be breaks,” he said before knocking back the cup in one gulp.

“Once we begin the transference of All for One, there won’t be,” Ujiko explained, “What I was working on this time, was completing your quirk.”

Shigaraki’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

Ujiko chuckled, gesturing to the paper cup in the new leader’s hands, “Why don’t you try putting your pinky down?”

He shot the doctor a confused look, not sure what exactly that would accomplish other than sparing him a trip to the trash can. But upon Ujiko’s nod of reassurance, he looked back down at the cup, bringing his raised finger down on its crease experimentally.

Shigaraki’s eyes widened immediately.

The cup was still in his hand.

It didn’t turn to dust. Didn’t even crumble or sport a single crack. He touched it with all five fingers and yet it stood with as much integrity as the steel IV pole next to him.

He snapped to the doctor, something unreadable in his voice, “Is… Is decay gone?”

“No, no of course not. I’d never purge you of such a powerful quirk,” Ujiko assured, “You just have control over it now.”

Shigaraki willed decay to activate, testing Ujiko’s explanation, and in an instant, the cup dissolved under his touch, just like he was used to.

He stared at his hand in disbelief, the dust falling through his fingers. He couldn’t believe this…

“And it’s not just turning it on or off, all or nothing,” Ujiko continued, “You can stop the spread of decay at certain points, activate it with just one finger — you have full control.”

Shigaraki snapped to Ujiko, intensely. Desperate. Maybe he should’ve been doing a better job of maintaining his poker face like Sensei would’ve, to try and hide the way this was affecting him. But he just couldn’t. Not now. Not when something he’d longed for so badly, so primally was so close to his grasp.

“Are you sure?”

Ujiko didn’t seem to take notice of this lapse of control however. Or at least, he didn’t care. His bushy mustache just raised with a small smile and pride in his work.

“Quite sure.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed. He was not fucking around here, “ How sure?”

Ujiko’s smile shifted slightly, a challenging smirk pulling at the corners as he offered his own hand as fodder.

Shigaraki slapped his fingers fully atop the back of Daruma’s fat hand, letting the full extent of his anger and emotions drive him. He wanted to test this fully, test that even in fits of passion, he wouldn’t lose control.

And he didn’t.

Daruma Ujiko stood just as whole and living in front of him as the moments before. The only change was the chuckle of satisfaction that Shigaraki’s dumbfounded expression brought him.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Daruma said, turning back to start pulling out equipment for the next phase of experimentation, large hulking tubes and wires that looked more akin to HVAC parts than real medical equipment.

Neat wasn’t exactly the phrase Shigaraki would use. But he didn’t really care anymore.

He had shit to do.

“Now, regarding the next steps in your transformation—”

The EKG machine behind him beeped loudly and suddenly, signaling that it had been disconnected. Ujiko turned back to Shigaraki curiously, watching as he pulled off the various electrode pads scattered across his chest and back.

“You don’t want to get started?”

“Tomorrow,” Shigaraki answered, ripping the IV from his wrist as he hopped off the table.

“But what about the power? Your dreams?” Ujiko pressed, something strained, irritated starting to form in his voice, “I would think that these are all things you’d want without delay.”

“I do. But achieving them one day later won’t kill me. And I have some shit to take care of before I grind for four months.”

Ujiko clicked his tongue, clearly unsatisfied with this new development.

He knew exactly what Shigaraki had to go take care of. And he didn’t like it. Didn’t like you . He’d never liked you in fact. You asked too many questions. Had too many suspicions…

But Shigaraki didn’t care about the doctor’s disapproval, simply turned to him after slapping a bandage over his free-flowing wrist and commanded, “Warp me back to the villa.”

This clearly wasn’t up for discussion. Ujiko could’ve protested, sure, but at the end of the day it wouldn’t have mattered. Shigaraki wasn’t a kid anymore, far from it. He’d taken the mantle of true leader by force, and held his head high with the confidence that accomplishment deserved. If he wanted to do something, he was going to do it. The risk of upsetting the doctor or even his master was not a concern anymore. It barely ever had been.

So in the end Ujiko just sighed and turned to his obedient servant sitting patiently in the corner, “Johnny.”

Shigaraki didn’t so much as flinch as the warp came spewing out of his mouth. In fact, a rare sheen of childlike joy took over his features instead. Daruma noted this with a shaking head as he warped away. Oh well. If Shigaraki wanted one last night with his companions, with his little distraction , who was Ujiko to get in the way?

This was the last night he’d have control over his own body after all. Might as well let him enjoy it.

“Robber!” you cheered victoriously, pumping your fist over the seven you rolled.

“Noooo, not again!!” Toga cried out.

You grabbed the little gray token off the board, twirling it around tauntingly as you hum, “Hmmm, and where should I put him? I wonder…”

Spinner glared at you from across the board, “If you put it on my wheat field one more time—”

“Great idea Spinner!” you mock-gasped, already well aware of where you were planning to put it, and slap the Robber down in the center of Spinner’s monopolized wheat hex.

“Great move! Cheap shot! ” Twice, the last player of the group, piped in.

“ Damn it !” Spinner punched his fist down on the table, shaking the drinks surrounding the board precariously.

“Oi, oi careful there!” you said, grabbing your glass of wine protectively, “If you party foul, you lose a turn.”

Spinner just grumbled irritably, grabbing his own beer and knocking it back to try and quell some of his frustration. You giggled at the sight. It would be easy to assume that Shigaraki was the most competitive and aggressive game player out of the League, but he actually managed to keep his cool during sessions most of the time. No, it was undeniably Spinner that was the most uncontrollably competitive, and it never failed to make you smile.

Even as the thought of Shigaraki threatened your demeanor with a frown.

You shook out the thought, because of course, you had another certain player to focus on. And you turned to her pointedly.

“Alright Toga, half your hand, let’s go.”

She gasped, “Whaaaat? What are you talking about!? I only have six cards!”

“That’s because two of them are sticking out of your sweater.”

Toga looked down to her sleeve, where indeed the corners of two resource cards were poking out rebelliously.

She snapped back to Compress in offense, who sat on the couch behind her, observing the game amusedly with his own glass of wine in hand, “Atsuhiro! You said that trick would work!”

“I’m sorry my dear,” he shrugged his hands tragically, “But it seems your sleight of hand needs a bit more work.”

Toga groaned, pulling her cards out of her sleeve and looking over which ones she wanted to discard with a pout.

Crushing his finished beer in his hand, Spinner turned back to Dabi who sat across the room, as far from the game as possible, and pretending not to watch it all, like he wsn’t invested in a single thing in this room. Not at all.

“Oi Dabi, can you grab me a beer?”

“You’ve got legs, get it yourself.”

“But the fridge is right freaking next to you!” Spinner shouted, pointing at the minifridge that actually, was not only right next to Dabi, but that he was currently resting his feet on top of.

But Dabi was a son of a bitch. So rather than even giving him an answer, he just crossed his feet over the fridge, making himself more comfortable.

“God, seriously ?!”

Shigaraki watched this all from the doorway with a whisper of a smile on his face. He’d stopped by his bedroom at the villa to grab a button down and even considered grabbing a quick shower while he was at it before coming here — the griminess of a week of experimentation sticking to him thickly. But ultimately he’d been too eager to see his comrades.

Yet, once he got to the doorway that the familiar rowdy laughter of his League led him to, he couldn’t help but just stop and take in the moment. It was nice to see them all so comfortable and content after months of chaos and vagrancy. And it was a look that especially suited you.

While you’d never been particularly materialistic or image-obsessed (if your decision to be with him didn’t make that obvious), you certainly also weren’t one to turn down the finer things in life when offered. And clearly here, you’d been offered, given the cashmere sweater and expensive bottle of wine you were currently enjoying. The regular access to showers and brand name moisturizers and cosmetics certainly weren’t hurting you either. Your skin was clearer and more glowing than he’d seen in months. You’d even seemed to have some time to style your hair today.

And of course there was your laugh. That big, uninhibited laugh that you only let out when you were truly comfortable. In general you were a pretty pragmatic person. It’s one of the things he’d always appreciated about you, particularly when surrounded by this circus that he calls a villain group.

You approached new situations skeptically and took most things seriously. It’s not like you had no sense of humor, quite the opposite actually. But you also were very aware that there was a time and place for everything. When the pressure was high, laughter was nowhere to be found. And it had certainly been nowhere to be found for a while now.

So it went without saying that seeing you like this now, laughing over a game board, cheeks tinged slightly-red from the wine, completely taken care of and without a care in the world…

It was quite the sight for sore eyes.

“Shigaraki?”

He blinked and looked back to Spinner who, in standing to go grab a beer from the fridge, had turned and spotted him in the doorway.

“Tomura!” Toga squealed excitedly, jumping up out of her seat with Twice to join Spinner in barraging him in the doorway.

“What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be leveling up with the Doc?” Spinner asked.

“Got a night off,” he answered simply.

“That’s awesome boss! Who needs ya?! ”

He turned to look past the three as you approached behind them, much calmer than the others, as usual. But that didn’t mean you weren’t just as thrilled to have him here. The adoration in your eyes was clear from across the room and it warmed him up in a way that he’d learned to really enjoy.

“It’s good to see you,” you said, simple and sweet. There was clearly so much more behind those words, but you knew how Shigaraki felt about doing shit like that in front of people, so you kept it subtle.

Apparently the caution was unnecessary though, as Shigaraki seemed to have lost his own patience for pretense. Even if it made his next words the spark that set off a firework show of “ooo’s” and teasing from resident forever teenagers, Toga and Twice.

“Yeah…” he breathed, “...Can we talk? Alone?”

It was all you could do to sit down on his bed when he told you.

“Full control?” you repeated in disbelief.

“Full control.”

You smiled, so genuinely, eyes starting to shine. You weren't even thinking about what this meant for the two of you yet, you were just happy for him, for the peace he could now live with. The burden that had eased.

“That… That’s amazing Tomura…”

Shigaraki stared down at you, a lump of nerves settling in his gut. He wasn’t affected by things like nerves or apprehension very much anymore — barely ever was in the first place, and especially not now that he had all the confidence and authority of a “Supreme Leader”. But he couldn’t keep those feelings from surfacing in that moment, couldn’t shake the image in his mind of things going terribly wrong.

Of you crumbling into a pile of dust and viscera in front of him.

He swallowed down those fears though, and started to reach out a shaky hand, “Can… Can I…?”

Whatever apprehension he felt, you obviously didn’t share. You shot out a hand immediately, without hesitation. With complete trust in his word. In him.

His trembling palm pressed against your own firm one, fingers still raised taught and high on instinct, careful not to make contact. You slotted your fingers through his own, bringing them down to hold his hand with none of that same carefulness. His knee-jerk reaction was to scold you for being so reckless around his hands, just like he always did, but he held the words back, knowing he didn’t need to anymore. But the subconscious anxiety buzzing within him was just the same.

You didn’t rush him either. Just gave him a squeeze of reassurance, and that was enough to finally encourage him to put a finger down. And then another. Tip by tip resting firmly and fully against your knuckles, until only his pinky remained raised.

He stared down at the horrid appendage, the one that had betrayed him so many times. That he could remember the horrible, gruesome ways in which it had destroyed in full, vivid detail now. Of the damage it could do to not only the world, but had done to his world. To Mon-chan, his mother, his sister…

The League was his world now — you were his world. And the idea of destroying that all with his own hands. It was too much.

No, he decided, starting to pull away. This wasn’t fucking worth the risk.

But you leaned forward then, pressing your lips gently against his, locking him in place. You didn’t deepen it, nor did you pull away. You just held yourself against him, willing him to understand that this would all be okay. That he was a “Grand Commander” now, and with that came taking risks. Risks that you’d stand behind him through to the bitter end.

How you managed to communicate that all in just a kiss — how you always managed to communicate so much with so little — should’ve been a quirk of its own honestly. But regardless of how, the comfort of those unspoken words was enough to spur him forward. Shigaraki brought down his pinky.

And you didn’t turn to dust.

You pulled away in fact, just a little, your eyes fluttering open as a soft, tearful smile spread across your face.

“Tomura—”

He surged forward, all of that hesitation and fear from before vanished in an instant. He shoved your hands together forward, pressing you to the bed as he kissed you with new fervor. His free hand came to hold your face, full and tight, all five fingers scrambling up the length of your cheek, your temple, tangling tight into your hair.

You sobbed happily into his mouth as he pulled his other hand free from yours, running it all across your body, disintegrating your clothes on contact, and then bringing those fingers back up the same route of bare skin, fully in control.

He was just as quick to decay his own clothes as you reached forward to try and tear at the top button of his shirt, which, while haphazardly done, was still too secure for either of your patience. He needed to feel you, all of you. Every inch against every pad of his fingers for the very first time.

And possibly even the last.

He didn’t want to think about that now though. He just wanted to shove you up higher onto the center of the bed, shoving your legs open wide as he kissed down the expanse of your chest and stomach. As he buried himself into your center, the pads of his fingers squeezing painfully tight into the pudge of your thighs.

But you didn’t mind the pain. Not only because it surged the pleasure just that much further, but because it grounded you. Reminded you that this was real. It promised a world — no matter how distant or near-impossible it was in reality — where Tomura Shigaraki could be whole and happy.

Where he could fully be with you.

Your legs strained against his grip, instinctually trying to close as his working tongue pushed you closer and closer to climax. It wasn’t going to take you long at all to reach that peak. After all, the intensity and emotion of the moment aside, it had been a long while since your last coupling. The weeks of recovering from his fight with Re-Destro, the full month you all spent fighting Gigantomachia. And of course, even before that, with the close quarters and stress that came from living on the run and in complete squalor, your escapades had become pretty few and far between. (It was hard to get in the mood when you hadn’t eaten or showered properly in over a week).

So yeah, suffice it to say you were pretty touch-starved at this point, the work of your fingers on lonely nights at the villa having absolutely nothing on Shigaraki’s skillful tongue. And the voraciousness with which he assaulted your sex certainly wasn’t slowing things down for you either.

He didn’t even need to slip his long, knowing fingers into you to have you coming undone — he wouldn’t want to right now anyway, completely losing himself in the way your thighs felt squeezed between his fingers, but that feel of his nails digging into you spurred you on in their own way, ripping a cry from your throat as you came hard under his lips.

Shigaraki smirked up at you, wiping the excess slick from his chin with the meat of his palm, “Missed that.”

You smiled back at him, your own tinged with a bit of sadness as he climbed up over you, hands running up your ribcage. Because you didn’t just miss this. You missed him. And you knew that feeling wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. In fact, it was just getting started.

His brows furrowed at your expression. He’d always been good at reading you, and it’s not like you were being particularly subtle, “You good?”

You chased the melancholy from your smile quickly, planting a happy peck at the corner of his mouth before showing him teeth, “I’m great.”

He hummed, a gentleness overtaking his own features as he stared down at you. Adoration, pure and whole and unrestrained, particularly as he brought a hand back up to cup your face. His fingers spread across the expanse of your skin greedily, his thumb dipping down into your mouth.

They were small gestures, little things that he seemed the most eager to do with his newly-attained range of touch. But it was obvious that they were huge to him. They were a freedom and a comfort that he’d been chasing his entire life. Even if he didn’t know it.

He groaned as you wrapped your own fingers around his cock, guiding him eagerly to your entrance. You had to. As much as he obviously wanted to fuck you, he couldn’t bare to take his fingers off of you for a second. He’d settle for fucking the plush of your thighs if it meant that he could hold you fully in his hands for just a second longer.

You, of course, were not so willing to settle.

“God—fuuck yes,” he growled, low in his throat, as he sank slowly into you, eternally grateful that for once your patience was even more lacking than his.

You grinned up at him`, shifting your hands to settle on the hard curves of his hips, “That’s good, huh?”

It was all he could do to nod shakily, lip biting back a breathy whine and brows knitting hard, as he tried desperately not to blow his load immediately.

You hummed happily at the sight, bringing one of your hands up to run across his cheek and through his hair. You remembered thinking a few months ago just how much those fights with Gigantomachia and Redestro had hardened him, aged him. Foolishly, it had even had you questioning briefly if this would be the end of your relationship. If maybe the shift that occurred during his awakening would chasm too big a valley for you two to bridge.

Of course, in the privacy of the League’s quarters, off of the stages and away from all the new adoring fans (bandwagoners, you and Spinner sometimes like to joke), he had been the same old Tomura Shigaraki, if not a little more confident and level-headed. He still complained about how everyone sitting on his bed eating dinner while he was on strict bed rest was too loud, still invested himself fully and kicking ass at every little game – from video games to cards – they challenged him to in order to pass the time with a cocky little smirk on his face.

And right now, with his face flushed and mouth agape with pleasure, he still looked just as young and ready to take on the world as the day you met him.

Finally he started to rock into you, slow and deep. One of his hands slipped down to the crux of your neck, fingertips biting tight into that smooth skin as he pulled you closer and closer into him. The other found a tight, desperate purchase on the handle of your hip. He used the grip of both to pump harder and deeper into you with every snapping thrust.

Minus the dry spell the two of you had endured over the last couple of months, you and Shigaraki had, overall, had a lot of sex over the last year that you’d known him.

Like, a lot of sex.

Rough sex, soft sex, angry, and fun. And while the man who claimed to hate everything would of course be remiss to admit it, there had indeed been quite a lot of genuine, intense lovemaking mixed in there too. But this right now, with all of the feelings and newness and longing that came with every stroke and whisper?

If Tomura Shigaraki was in fact capable of love, you were positive that this was the representation of that.

His lips dropped hot against the shell of your ear, peppering desperate bites and kisses along the skin as a string of breathy babble spilled out between.

“God fuck, you’re so perfect. Feel so good. Every part of you, so good. So fucking perfect…”

Overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure, it was all you could do to just mewl out his name, “Tomura, Tomura, Tomura—!”

His hips rolled against you with every hard buck, stimulating your aching sex in the way he knew you loved. That would have you clenching and spilling around him over and over again in the way that he loved. You weren’t even sure if it was intentional at this point, or if you had memorized each other’s bodies so well that it just became an instinctual part of his movement. You certainly didn’t have the forethought to drag your nails up the curve of his spine in the way that had him cursing and speeding up immediately.

“F-Fuck, I’m not gonna last like that—” he growled out, rutting desperately into you in spite of his own warning.

“G-Good,” you breathed back, rolling your hips right back into his, “Don’t.”

“B-But—”

He couldn’t get the rest of the words out, his mouth overtaken by a deliciously loud moan instead as he hit that deep, spongy spot inside of you that was heaven for the both of you. You got the message anyway.

But he wanted to keep fucking you. But he wanted this to last.

But he never wanted this to end.

You tangled your hand through his locks, reveling in the fact that there was so much more to hold now, and yanked his head back hard so he’d look at you.

“But nothing,” you smiled through hot, huffing breaths, “You’re fucking crazy if you think this is our only round.”

He stared at you in complete awe for a moment, hips almost coming to a stop as he took in this moment, took in you and the way that you always seemed to know what he was thinking and what he needed, even when he didn’t.

Even if he hadn’t had his own dreams for the future, looking at you now, reveling in all that you’d been through together and all that you’d done for him, thinking about all that you deserved… If he could destroy this rotten society just so that you could have the freedom to be half as happy as you looked in this moment for the rest of your life, he’d gladly fucking do it.

Shigaraki’s face mirrored yours quickly after, a wide lascivious grin spreading across his face. It was all teeth and joy and feral desire to absolutely fucking wreck you. And let himself pound into you with the most reckless abandon he could muster.

You cried out at the new punishing pace, nails pushing hard into his skin, and heels locking sharp around his waist, spurred by the desperate need to have him pound into you harder, deeper, faster. Until you were completely coming apart around him, with his own violent release following close behind.

About two hours later, when you’re lying blissed out, sticky, and half-asleep on Shigaraki’s bare chest, he told you to roll over onto your stomach.

You groaned in protest — while your spirit was eager to roll around the sheets with him as much as possible before the sunrise, your body was sore and spent.

“Not for that,” he said, nudging your shoulder, “Just trust me.”

There was still some visible exasperation as you finally gave in, joints and back aching as you moved them before they were ready. You rolled over onto your stomach, dropping your cheek into the mountain of pillows that awaited you.

Shigaraki followed, moving his body over yours and straddling your hips. You were about to scold him for tricking you when, rather than grinding himself into the curve of your ass or thighs, he simply sat down on your butt and brought his hands to the base of your back. Then he started to knead and you knew exactly what he was doing.

Many a time during your months on the run did you take it upon yourself to try and alleviate some of his stress. Of course one of his favorite ways (and yours too) of doing so was to fuck each other’s brains out. But there were also many times when that wasn’t exactly an option. Whether because there were others around or because he was elbow deep in work for their next operation.

At times like those, when he was hunched over a shitty, half-dead laptop he’d manage to scrounge up from a dumpster, or held his fingers to the bridge of his nose, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to fight off an impending headache from the constant pressures of responsibility — you’d usually come up behind him and rub his neck.

It wasn’t like you made a big show of it or anything. Most of the time you’d just reach a single hand over to him and start to stroke his neck without a word. Not expecting him to say or do anything, not even expecting a thank you. You just wanted to do whatever you could. When it was just the two of you around whatever sorry excuse for a base you’d managed to find, or when you’d been lucky enough to be settled in a safehouse with private rooms, you’d manage to talk him into laying down on his stomach, much like this, and work knots that he could’ve sworn had been there since birth, right out of his back.

He never said anything about it, never thanked you nor told you to stop, but in retrospect he did realize that it was one of the few things that managed to bring him even a smidgeon of peace over those many stressful months, that actually got him through it all. Particularly in the fights against Gigantomachia, where, the second the beast was asleep, you’d insist he lay his head down in your lap while you rubbed softly at his temples, lulling him near instantly to do the same.

It truly meant the world to him, even if he’d never admit it. A deep, foolishly sentimental part of him always wished that he could return the favor.

And now he could.

Of course… That didn’t mean he was any good at it.

“Pinching, you’re pinching,” you winced as his thumbs pressed together, unoiled, on a patch of your back awkwardly.

“Oh shit,” he released his grip, settling to just rub his fingers up and down your back slowly, “Sorry…”

“It’s fine. You just can’t do it that hard if you don’t have any oil or lotion, you know?”

His brows furrowed, “You always did it that hard without any of that crap and it felt fine.

You smirked back at him playfully, “That’s because I’m really good.”

He shot you a look, completely unimpressed.

“I liked what you were doing before,” you conceded.

This was clearly something he wanted to do, and who were you to complain or judge when he was being so unabashedly giving?

“When you were using your palms. Just pressing and kneading with your whole hands rather than trying to do any pressure point stuff is really nice.”

“Yeah, okay…” he nodded, concentration settling over his features as he followed instructions.

You sighed, burying your face back into the pillows as he ran those hot, calloused hands purposefully up and down your back.

This was nice.

Again, while he wasn’t hurting you anymore, the massage itself wasn’t particularly skillful. It did put you at ease though, the way his smell and presence, the way those hands — even when you could never feel them fully against you — always managed to put you at ease.

After at least thirty minutes passed and Shigaraki showed no sign of stopping his ministrations, you peaked back up at him.

“You don’t have to keep this up you know.”

He snorted, “Yeah I know.”

And you should’ve expected that response. Because of course he knew. He wasn’t doing this out of obligation or anything. Tomura Shigaraki didn’t do anything he didn’t want to after all.

You rolled your eyes, “I just mean that you must be tired after all that. Don’t you want to sleep?”

“I’m gonna be asleep for the next four months. I think I’ll be good missing one night.”

The message behind those words was clear. He only had so much time to spend with you, he wasn’t going to waste even a second of it with something as stupid as sleeping.

You should’ve been flattered by that. And of course you were. And truth be told, you had the same mindset as him. You had no plans to sleep that night either, even if he had. But the reminder of his fate for the next four months brought a bitterness to your mouth that overpowered the sweetness of this opportunity.

“Sleep, huh?” you said doubtfully, “Is that what the Doctor is calling it?”

“I guess suspended animation,” he corrected himself, “Or whatever the fuck.”

Amongst other things. Hellish agony he believed was the way the Doctor so eloquently put it. But he’d chosen to spare you (and the rest of the League) those particular details.

Even without that knowledge though, you still weren’t thrilled by the prospect. Of course because you were going to miss him, but mostly because you trusted that fucking doctor about as far as he could throw you. Which, for that portly little creep, you were pretty sure wasn’t far.

Particularly, because now that the excitement and happiness you’d had for Tomura’s newfound quirk control (as well as the fog from your repeated orgasms) was starting to fade into something more grounded, a sneaky little question managed to worm its way into your head.

Had the Doctor been capable of “fixing” his quirk this entire time?

A loud pounding on the door suddenly broke the silence, at least two fists rapping. And then Twice’s muffled call of, “Alright you two, you’ve had your fun! Now come out and play with the rest of us! Take your time! Make babies if ya want!”

You snorted at the call. Shigaraki was substantially less entertained.

“Jiiiin!” Toga whined from the other side of the door, “Leave them alone! They want some privacy!”

Ah, so the two fists knocking must’ve both been Twice.

“But you missed Shigaraki too, Toga!”

“I know, but…”

A stretch of silence. And then apparently Toga’s support for love was outweighed by how much she missed her friend. Because then two more fists started knocking on the door.

“Tomuraaaa, come ooouuuut!!” Toga cried, Twice starting up his own pounding on the door right along with them.

“Yeah, yeah— come out! Stay away !”

“I’ll kill them…” Shigaraki growled, glaring at the door heatedly.

You just giggled as you rolled over under him, dropping him to sit on your waist.

“Oh don’t be like that Tomura,” you cooed, reaching up to cup his cheek in your palm and turning him to look at you, “We should all go hang out. I’m not the only one who’s gonna miss you these next four months, you know.”

He sneered at the suggestion at first, wanting nothing more than to spend the entirety of these next twelve or so hours with his hands holding on to you as tight as possible.

But then he really got thinking about it. About them.

Spinner, Toga, Twice, Compress, hell, even Dabi. There wasn’t going to be time to fuck around with them all once he woke up. They’d be going straight into action, into war. Into the future, wherever that may lead. This wasn’t just going to be his last guaranteed chance to enjoy time with you. It was his last chance to spend time with any of them, until they achieved their goals. And by the end of all that, who even knew how many of them would still be alive?

It was a weight he’d carried around with ease as they planned out their attack over the last couple of months, a weight he’d been carrying for the past year if he was being honest. But it never felt as heavy on his soul at this very moment.

You were right. Absolutely right.

How annoying, he thought with a grumble.

You smiled as you saw that shift on his face, the slight softness that always fell over him when he thought about the League, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“Alright?” you pressed.

He sighed, “Yeah, yeah. Alright…”

And then let the corner of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly as he looked down at you, so splayed and fucked out and pretty. He leaned down to press a long, but surprisingly chaste kiss on you, for someone that was still sitting atop your naked form with his own.

Because just because he was going to get up, didn’t mean he was going to be in any rush.

Caught up in the feel of each other, neither of you noticed the click of the door and Spinner’s voice announcing, startlingly clear, “Guys, the door is unlocked.”

“Ack— SPINNER!! ”

“Okay, you’ve got that all memorized?” Toga chirped, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.

“Yeah, I guess.” Shigaraki, across from her, shrugged, strongly resisting the urge to tell her about how stupid this all was (again).

“Great! So then we start in that first position, crossed arms,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest by example.

Shigaraki sighed and mirrored her.

“Alright! One, two, three!” she sounded off excitedly, before fluttering her hands eagerly and singing, “Misssss Maaaaaryyyyy Mack, Mack, Mack! All dressed in black, black, black…”

You grinned from your position on the couch, glass of wine in hand, as you watched the two. Shigaraki was pointedly not singing along with Toga, but he was matching her claps with impeccable accuracy.

The League had been just as stunned and excited to hear about Shigaraki’s new upgrade. Not to the point of immediately jumping on his dick, but that was obviously more than okay with him.

No, they were more interested in giving him a speedrun through all of the things he’d missed out on in life from not being able to grab it with all five fingers. Playground clap games that Shigaraki, as a boy, couldn’t say he ever played even before his quirk awakened, were apparently of the highest priority to Toga.

“With silver buttons, buttons buttons— Tomura, you’re not singing!”

“And I’m not gonna,” he grumbled back, but not stopping his hands, “Take the W as it is, or don’t take it at all.”

You laughed at the sight, a new glass of wine that you were sure Shigaraki would want by the end of this.

Mr. Compress read Shigaraki’s palms next.

They supposed that this was technically something they could’ve done even before Shigaraki’s upgrade, but with how careful and particular he’d been with anybody getting anywhere near his hands, it definitely wasn’t something they had ever thought to give a go before now.

He decided to read the palm that hadn’t been marred by the fight with Redestro, for more “accuracy” (a reasoning that Shigaraki had openly scoffed at).

“Your love line is quite straight and short,” Compress explained, “Which indicates that you don’t have a lot of interest in love.”

“Booooo,” a red-faced Toga whined from her place on the floor between your legs, shooting Shigaraki an aggressive thumbs down.

You promptly grabbed the half-empty can of chuhai next to her foot, and moved it up to the side table out of her sight. Underage drinking was officially done for the night.

Unbothered, Mr. Compress continued his reading, running his mechanical finger along the top line of Shigaraki’s palm, “Since your love line begins below your middle finger though, it also means that when you do love, you’re quite selfish about it.”

You chuckled, “Hammer? Meet nail.”

“Oh shut up,” he waved you off with his free hand.

“Next is your head line, which represents the way you learn and communicate, as well as your overall intellectualism and thirst for knowledge.” Compress turned to the rest of the group, finger raised as he lectured.

Dabi, from his place leaning judgmentally against the wall across from them, huffed, “Alright, I agree with the Boss on this one. This is really stupid.”

Toga grinned at him, pointing teasingly, “You’re just saying that because you don’t have any more lines in your palm to read! Jelly!”

“I’m not—”

“Jelly!” Twice backed Toga up with a chant, “Jelly, jelly, jelly! Peanut butter !”

Dabi just sighed and returned to his nth beer of the night.

“You have a deep and long head line, that runs separate from your heart line,” Compress continued, “That means that you’re clear and focussed, with a great sense of adventure and enthusiasm for life.”

Shigaraki snorted, “Alright, now I know this is bullshit.”

You flicked his cheek scoldingly, “Just keep going.”

“I also see a singular cross in your heart line, which suggests that you carry some emotional crisis.”

Compress didn’t linger on that point. After all, everyone in this room was dealing with the same thing in one way or another.

“The lifeline is the most interesting in my opinion,” Compress explained, “As opposed to what you might think, it doesn’t have to do with the length of your life, but the quality of it. Yours runs close to the thumb and forks downwards, which means you’re often tired and a pessimist.”

Toga snickered a bit at that, “Still think it’s BS, Tomura?”

“I’m getting the distinct feeling you guys are doing this just as an excuse to insult me to my face.”

You gave his freehand a squeeze, “Oh we don’t need the pretense to do that.”

“ Oi. ”

“There’s a circle in the line too, which predicts great injury or hospitalization.”

The League looked at him pointedly, and he just rolled his eyes.

“The last detail about your life line is a curious one. It’s short and shallow,” Compress said, cocking his head in a way that clearly indicated that he didn’t exactly agree with it, “Which indicates that you’re easily manipulated by others.”

Your frowned.

The rest of the League members pulled faces that clearly showed their similar disagreement with the reading. But you, thinking back to all his interactions with All for One and the Doctor, everything in his life that he’d described to you…

Well, you weren’t so sure.

“Pffft, like I said,” Shigaraki scoffed, gesturing for you to hand him his wine, “It’s all bullshit.”

Deliberately, Mr. Compress did not read Shigaraki’s fate line.

You weren’t sure when the night turned into the League taking turns with choosing tasks for Shigaraki to complete, but you weren’t going to complain. You were already looking forward to Toga’s next round after she’d screamed up into the security camera you all knew Skeptic was watching irritatedly through to get her some string for cat’s cradle.

Spinner’s turn was pretty simple though, and at first, not especially different then before. You thought at first that maybe that was by design, that Spinner just wanted to spend some time with Shigaraki the way he always had.

He wanted to play video games.

Of course, there was a twist.

“Fingers down.” Spinner scolded him for what had to be the fifth time in the last ten minutes, “Toga, I need chicken.”

“Yes, chef!” she chirped back happily.

“God, fucking—” Shigaraki growled, forcing his pinkies back down onto the controller against every instinct in his body.

Years of having to hold things in a particular way had caused him to develop a very particular controller grip. One that, once, back at the bar — god, that felt like it was so long ago now — several of you had tried to mimic, just for the hell of it. (Or more accurately, just to get his goat). And it had been hard . The general consensus had been that no normal human should be able to hold a controller like this, let alone hold a controller like this and be as good at video games as Tomura Shigaraki was.

Now though, the shoe was on the other foot — or more accurately the controller was in the other hands — as you all forced Shigaraki to go a couple rounds of Overcooked while holding the pro controller like a normal fucking person. And it was not going well.

“Stop dropping shit!” you yelled hysterically next to Shigaraki, “Do you see how many burritos we still need to make?!”

“Do you think I’m doing it on purpose?!” he shouted right back, possibly more worked up than you’d ever seen him.

Toga on the other side of him giggled. She and Spinner were having absolutely no trouble at all on their side of the kitchen, “Tomura, I thought you were supposed to be good at video games.”

“I am! I’m just not used to this grip— FUCK! ” he screamed out as his character once again fell off the map, throwing his controller down onto the carpet.

The room erupted in doubled over laughter and “woah woah woah’s”, over the tantrum the sorts of which none of you had seen since the early days back at the bar.

Maybe he wasn’t such a good sport after all.

With Twice’s request, even you had to admit that things were getting a bit ridiculous.

Twice slammed his elbow down onto the table, holding his palm open for Shigaraki to take, “Gimme all you got, boss! Go easy on me, please!”

Shigaraki, on the other hand, seemed the most enthusiastic about this one, placing his own elbow on the table and grabbing Twice’s hand tight in his own with a cocky grin.

You suspected that the many beers he’d knocked back (not to mention the entire bottle of wine the two of you had killed together) played a decent role in that, but it was also impossible to deny that their dear leader was fiercely competitive, no matter the game.

“Ready?” you asked, looking between the two. They nodded, and you begrudgingly stepped further into your role as referee, clapping as you counted down, “Three, two, one— arm wrestle!”

The room blew up in a (small) chorus of screams and cheers. Actually, even that was generous. As referee you were expressly forbidden from picking sides (Twice was very serious about that), and Compress and Dabi were too composed and too uninterested respectively to participate. It was just Spinner and Toga going wild and slamming their hands on the table as Shigaraki’s and Twice’s muscles strained against each other — although they were more than loud enough for the whole group.

“Go, Jin go!” Toga cheered rhythmically, “Go, Jin go!”

“Kick his ass, Shigaraki!”

The match lasted a respectable amount of time, both sides putting up a pretty damn good fight. And while Twice was built like a tank and was no slouch either — he probably would’ve won this by a moderate margin a couple of months ago — Shigaraki’s month-long escapade with Gigantomachia had given him a strength and will that surpassed Twice’s own.

“Arrrrgh— damn it !!” Twice shouted as Shigaraki slammed his fist down into the table definitively, “Great game Shigaraki! Die!”

You chuckled as Twice got up from his seat, head dropped in defeat, then turned to Spinner, who was already rolling out his dominant shoulder.

“Next challenger,” you gestured to the seat, “You’re up.”

Dabi didn’t have any requests throughout the night (surprise, surprise), just a lot of eyerolls and snippy commentary. But he also didn’t ever split off from any of you, which made you consider that he may not have thought this was all as stupid as he claimed.

The part of the night he seemed to enjoy (or at least, not vocalize his annoyance or the group’s childishness over), the most, was when around 4 am rolled around.

Out of ideas and exhausted, but absolutely refusing to go to bed, the League decided to take a particularly noisy and drunken nightwalk around the property (much to the dread of whichever resident’s window they passed). This quickly turned into an equally harebrained climb up onto the roof so that you could all watch the sun come up.

That sunrise was still a good hour or so away though by the time you all got settled up there, and as chatty, adrenaline-filled, and drunk as most of you were, the late hour and comforting breeze was starting to get to you all.

Twice and Toga had long fallen asleep, heads resting together. Compress, with his hands folded over his stomach and Spinner, curling up tighter into a ball with every minute, were not far behind. Dabi’s eyes were closed, but he might’ve still been conscious. He didn’t make a sound either way.

Only Shigaraki seemed to be wide awake, staring up at the waning moon with a complex expression on his face. He looked like he was thinking hard, but also somewhat at peace. Grateful for this moment, but already mourning its inevitable end. Exhilarated by the future that began for him tomorrow.

Wondering just what exactly he’d be leaving behind in the past.

You watched this all cross his face, not shifting between expressions, but clearly feeling it all at once. Overwhelmed, and unprepared to process it all. The one thing that seemed to keep him grounded was the hand that held yours, tight and warm. Anytime tonight that his hands weren’t occupied with whatever silly ringer the rest of the League was putting through, he was threading those fingers right back with yours, savoring the one new experience that he truly wanted to indulge the most in.

And you were more than happy to let him.

He shifted a bit in surprise as you nuzzled into his shoulder, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter in your own.

“You’re still awake,” he commented, voice horse with the sleep his body clearly wanted.

“So are you,” you mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, just breathing him in.

“Yeah, but you need sleep,” he chuckled, “Like I said, I’ll be having more than enough of it for the next four months.”

You stilled against him, frowning.

Right. The next four months.

Shigaraki seemed to sense your shift in mood, and kicked himself. That was a stupid thing to mention again when you’d finally managed to put it out of your mind for a few hours, and when that fate itself was even fewer hours away.

He ran his thumb with a restlessness that was once reserved for his nails against his neck. Even with that itch seemingly gone for good from his life, Shigaraki was still a fidgety person by nature. Especially when uncomfortable.

“You guys will be busy,” he grumbled, “Planning the attacks, organizing your regiments, training… You’ll barely even notice I’m gone.”

You didn’t comment on the stupidity of that statement, even though it was a really, really stupid and patently untrue thing for him to say. Because frankly, it wasn’t what was on your mind at the moment, not the front of it anyway. Of course the fact that you were going to miss him and these days together was a constant parasite, gnawing and suckling in the back of your brain. But truly, your current concern was a bit less melancholy. Less abstract.

Shigaraki had full control over his quirk now. And it was great and beautiful and nothing short of a miracle of course, you wouldn’t trade this night and all the memories opened up by that particular door for anything in the world. And yet you could not fight that question that had first struck your mind the first moment you had to actually think about it.

Why now?

That question wrenched through you painfully, no matter how much you loved the feel and sight of his hand in your own. Because sure, Shigaraki had been out of touch with the Doctor ever since All for One’s arrest. But what about the last sixteen some years that he’d been at the personal beck and call of All for One and his ward? Why hadn’t he ever adjusted Shigaraki’s quirk then? Was it a matter of technology, a breakthrough in quirk alteration he only recently was able to make? Or was it something else? Was there something bigger going on here?

What was he not telling you all?

Shigaraki looked down at you, giving that flat expression of his that you knew translated to concern. You looked up from your locked hands to meet his gaze. He stared into you, those deep pools of carmine that stood so hard against the rest of the world, now soft and imploring. Even more than they were for the League. This look was for you.

“Tomura—”

“It’s gonna be worth it.”

You paused, that newfound calm confidence in his voice silencing you in an instant.

“I know these next four months are gonna be hard for all of us. This war is gonna be hard for all of us,” he said, turning to stare back up at the stars, “But it’s all going to be worth it in the end. We’re gonna make a new world where you’re all able to live as you want to. To be free. And this power that the Doctor is giving me... That’s going to assure that it all happens.”

“And… You don’t think that you can do all that now?” you breathed, “You’ve gotten so strong already, Tomura. Maybe you don’t even need that power.”

He turned back to you with a small but sincere smile. The one that betrayed that deep down tenderness he always tried so earnestly to hide. That called his bluff, revealing that there were feelings other than hate in that cursed body of his.

The one that made your heart skip a beat.

“I don’t want to take any chances,” he said, bringing his free hand — all five fingers — to rest on your cheek, “Not when it comes to my comrades’ dreams.”

Not when it comes to you .

Those unspoken words were loud and clear.

You swallowed something tight in your throat, fighting the burn that threatened to overflow from your eyes, the worry that brawled to burst out from your chest and ruin everything. But you had no choice but to shove it all down.

Forcing a smile onto your face, you squeezed his hand tight.

“I understand.”

His own smile remained the same, although a bit of relief did seem to fall over his eyes. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple and stayed there, breathing as much of you in as he possibly could.

Shigaraki had made up his mind. He was going to go through with this. And there was nothing you could say, no concern you could voice or ultimatum you could give that would change his mind. This decision was beyond his own wants and dreams at this point. It was for something far more important to him, even if he’d never admit it.

This was for all of you.

And who were you to stand in the way of that?

The fears wouldn’t ease with time, the nagging in the back of your head wouldn’t be forgotten through training or planning or anything else that you could do in the next four months to try and drown it out. But you just had to suck it up. You had to support him.

You could talk about your fears and the Doctor and any secret ambitions he may have after this ordeal. After the war even. You could talk about anything then, really. It was only four months after all.

And the two of you would soon have all the time in the world.

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428 notes · View notes