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starstruckkittensweets · 2 years ago

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“Everything” Pt. I | Dabi x Reader

“You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.”

Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Dabi x Reader Words: 13.9k

A/N: I’m a slut for Dabi. Scratch that—I am a MASSIVE slut for Dabi. And that couch scene in 6x17 only solidified my obsession with him. I have no excuse for this fic, except that it’s angsty, filthy, and way too long for its own good. I just have too many thoughts on Dabi as both a character and a love interest and I shamelessly projected myself onto Reader the entire time writing this. I wanna hold him and tell him it’s all gonna be okay, but at the same time I wanna fuck his brains out like there’s no tomorrow. The second half will be uploaded later this week, once I finish editing it. I hope you enjoy! (Now let me go hide my face in shame...)

Also a huge thank you to my dear friend @lostinwildflowers, who’s just as thirsty for Dabi as I am! Birch, it’s because of you cheering me on that this fic finally got finished! (And further down the rabbit hole we go!)

Warnings: 18+ only (minors please DNI), fem-bodied reader, spoilers for Season 6 (up to Episode 17 at least), Reader and Dabi may or may not be in the healthiest mindset to fuck right now (that won’t stop em though), Reader is somewhat dependent on Dabi, oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, vaginal sex, spanking, quirk use, branding, crying (Reader is a bit of a crybaby but she means well), hair pulling, fingering, blood tears, Dabi’s an asshole and doesn’t want to admit that Reader actually loves and cares for him

Part I | Part II

You’ve been to this mansion exactly three times before.

The first time was in the middle of the fall, when the leaves were crisp and the winds were brisk. It was an old shabby building in the middle of nowhere, worn out and run down by the countless inhibitors that came before you. At the time Dabi had brushed it off, claiming they were no longer a threat to you, that it was now the perfect little getaway from the rest of the world. (As long as the rest of the League was off elsewhere, of course.)

He had wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you down on that ratty old couch, the one with faded gold carvings and fluff poking out of the torn cushions. You had been a little wary at first; it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant smell in the world. But he kept you busy with his burning kisses and wandering hands, and eventually you dozed off right there in his arms, with his chest pressed against your back.

The second time was in the dead of winter, just before the New Year. You had forced him down on that damn couch and pressed every wad of gauze you could find to the fresh wounds on his arms and torso. The bastard had been too rough and ripped his staples again, a thin trickle of red seeping down his skin. You had yelled at him for that, as though you were his mother and not just the girl he’d preferred to keep his bed warm. So loud your voice rang throughout the halls of the mansion, enough for Twice and Toga to peek their heads around the corner to see what all the fuss was about.

The third time was a little more pleasant, on the eve of the eighteenth of January. A night of strolling around the city too far from home led you back to the quiet mansion—luckily you were the only ones there at the time. The two of you were tipsy on whatever booze Dabi had managed to get his hands on that day; your lips were thrumming from his kisses, your body as light as a feather in his arms. He carried you into a secluded room on the second floor, the one he’d claimed for his own so long ago, and his fingers pressing into the meat of your thighs. Before you knew it you were being crushed beneath him on the bed, moaning his name into his mouth as he slipped your shirt over your head.

Neither of you awoke until late the next morning, when he oh-so generously accompanied you on the walk back to your apartment, pulling a worn black hoodie over your head to hide the bruises on your neck and arms. It was frayed at the sleeves and smelled of smoke, but it was the warmest thing you’d ever worn in your life.

And now you’re standing outside this mansion a fourth time, with that old hoodie hugging your chest, keeping out the last winter chill of the season.

The League has never kept the doors locked—both for easy access and knowing just how they managed to wipe out the last group that lived in this mansion—so it’s not hard to slip in through the front. The halls are dark and silent, the scent of musk so strong you cover your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie. Not like smoke is much better, but still…

And that’s when you hear it: a faint chuckle, deep and raspy, at the very end of the hall. The slightest flicker of blue coming to life among the shadows.

You swallow once, stilling your trembling fingers in the pockets of the hoodie, and start to walk forward.

He’s standing there in the middle of the living room (at least that’s what Toga calls it; it only has a couch and a few dressers for decorations, mostly the knives she likes to keep on display for the rest of you to see). Your jaw drops at the sight of marred skin, a deep purple shade stretching across the length of his back, over his arms and down to his hipbones. He grunts as he presses down hard on one of the staples in his wrist, locking it back into place with a sigh.

You gasp, but he doesn’t turn around at the sound. Instead he rolls his shoulders back, cocks his head as he focuses on another staple splitting his skin apart.

“Dabi.” Your voice is a whisper, too quiet for him to hear. Or maybe he’s just ignoring me. You clear your throat and try again: “Dabi, you’re hurt. I can—”

He says your name then, and your blood turns to ice in your veins. He heaves a sigh as he tugs out a rusted staple from his wrist, flicking it to the ground before reaching for a fresh one on the dresser closest to him.

“I told you to stay away. So go home.”

Your breath catches in your throat; your heartbeat echoes in your ears. The black hoodie suddenly feels too snug around your neck as you glare at him, at the ragged skin his flames have left behind.

“You’re not serious. Two weeks—no, three weeks of complete radio silence, and that’s all you have to say to me?” It’s getting harder to stare at him when your eyesight’s getting all blurry. You brush your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie, but that just makes you feel even worse. Damn smoke.

He doesn’t answer, only winces as another new staple buries itself into the skin of his wrist. You take a step forward, ready to clean the blood off his back or smack him upside the head, you’re not sure which one just yet.

But then he’s staring at you from over his shoulder, and all you can see are the patches beneath his eyes, the fresh burns stretching past the silver staples in his cheeks.

“Why are you here?” he asks, and you shiver at the forlorn look in those beautiful blue eyes. “You’re supposed to be home by now, it’s getting late. Leave already.”

“No.” The words pour out of you so fast you barely register what you’re saying. “Not again. I’m not leaving after you—” You swallow the lump in your throat, well aware of those eyes on you. “…After seeing that video—I couldn’t even…”

Fuck, it seems so long ago. Nearly a month of silence from Dabi, of sitting in your apartment wondering if you should leave the window unlocked for him even though he hates it, of checking your phone for any messages from unknown numbers, of constantly wondering if there was anything you could’ve said or done to keep him from walking out that night—

To staring at the little TV in your living room, a broken mug lying at your feet, your second cup of coffee soaking through the carpet. To feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you saw him, burn scars and all, revealing the truth about himself and the family he’d come from.

“Touya.”

It used to be your little secret. Something he mumbled into your hair as you patched him up one night, assuring him and yourself that he wouldn’t die. Something you’d panted into his mouth as he pressed you into the mattress in your bedroom, curling his fingers around your own. Something he’d trusted you with.

And now everyone knows about it; his family, his story, his name. Everyone knows and he can’t take it back.

But a part of you thinks he doesn’t want to take it back. That wild look in his eye, that gleeful smile that nearly rips his staples apart. The world is in shambles because of him and he fucking loves it.

“Touya,” you try again, “let me help you. You…you need to be cleaned up, I can take care of you…”

He makes no move to run as you step closer, hands barely brushing his ragged arms. Tears are spilling down your cheeks, mirroring the trickles of blood sliding down his chest. You can remember burning your hand on the stove so many years ago, even when your mother warned you to be careful. You had whined about the pain until she wrapped it up and gave you a kiss, chiding you for acting like such a child.

You can’t imagine being burned like this—your body being eaten by your own flames—the thought makes your stomach roll into itself.

“C’mon.” You pull him closer to the dresser, grimacing at the tray of fresh staples in front of you (as well as its bloodied twin). A familiar dance for the two of you. “I got you.”

You’re safe with me.

He’s silent as you clean out his wrists, leaving bloody tissues all across the dresser and floor, wincing at every bit of silver biting into his skin. Open, close, open, close. He doesn’t complain, not even once as you try your best to stitch him up. You keep your mouth shut, even though your tongue is burning with all the things you want to say. Too scared that even the slightest bit of noise will chase him off again, and you’ll be left at square one once more.

When the blood is cleaned off and the staples are secured, you steal a glance at the palm of his hand. Cringing as the rough purple skin stretches all the way up to his fingers. Can he still feel anything? Or are his nerves shot for good?

The thought makes your stomach churn. Without thinking you lean into his palm, splaying his fingers across your cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sor—”

“For what?”

His voice is rough, and when he pulls his hand away you want to burst into tears. He gives your head a messy pat, mussing up your hair before walking to the other end of the room.

“You got nothin’ to feel sorry for, doll. So don’t go saying shit that’s not true.”

Your tongue feels heavy against my lips. “W-what?”

“You patched me up, I won’t bleed out. So you can go already.” He sprawls himself across that ratty old couch, legs hanging off the arm as he drapes a hand across his forehead. “Leave.”

“But… I don’t want to…”

Suddenly you feel like a child again, clinging to your parents and begging them for just five more minutes of fun before bedtime. There’s a horrible nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, laughing at you, taunting you for how stupid you are.

He doesn’t want you here. Just get out of here before you make things worse.

But you know that if you walk out that door right now, you may never see this man in the flesh ever again.

You can’t let him get away. Not again—not ever.

“I’m staying.” Dabi’s eyes are practically glowing in the dark, watching your every move as you cross the room to follow him. “You don’t get to tell me that after all this time. So I’m staying, whether you like it or not. So stop trying to get me to leave!”

The chuckle he gives sends a chill down your spine. He leans further into the couch and rests his arm against his forehead.

“Everyone leaves sooner or later, dollface.”

Oh.

That’s where his mind is at right now.

He likes to put up a front. Likes to hide behind sarcastic comments and unimpressed looks. Shows off his power any chance he gets just to remind everyone how strong he is, how easily he could incinerate everyone with a single flick of his hand.

But you can still see the little boy with white hair, begging for his father’s approval, masking his sadness with a smile.

“…Well, I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.” You flump down on the floor with a huff, back pressing into the worn out couch, legs sprawled out in front of you. “So get used to having me around.”

He doesn’t seem happy, but at least he’s not trying to get you to leave anymore. For now, at least.

The two of you bask in the silence of the shadowy room, neither one acknowledging the other. You pull your knees up to your chest and keep your eyes forward, staring at the sliver of moonlight that seeps through the single window ahead, as Dabi’s soft breathing lulls you into a semi-relaxed state.

There are so many things you want to tell him, to ask him, to scream at him. Why didn’t you come home after that night? What did I do wrong to make you stay away? Why do you insist on pushing me away when you know all I want to do is help you?

It’s still so raw, the memory of his last night in your apartment. Early February—just two days shy of Valentine’s Day, the prick—at close to three in the morning. One minute you were sleeping soundly in your bed with his arms wrapped around your waist; the next you were begging him not to leave, fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

Demanding to know why he decided to leave after all this time, after so many months of bliss. Recalling the promise you’d made to him on his birthday in this very house, in the old room he’d claimed for himself. And when that didn’t work you started throwing things—pillows, clothes, his stupid pack of cigarettes—anything you could get your hands on. Anything to get him to stay, even for just one more night.

But he’d pulled on his shirt and walked out the door—the first time he’d ever used the door instead of the window. He left you there in the living room, tearing at your hair as your chest wracked with sobs.

I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking—

“Still have that shitty hoodie, huh?”

His voice is raspy when he speaks, a low sound that snaps your head from your arms. You try not to look at him as you nod, hugging your knees closer to your chest. A whiff of smoke crosses your nose when you tug the collar of the hoodie over your mouth, as though it were a scarf.

“Looks good on you, doll.” Dabi gives a breathless laugh, and it’s hard not to turn your head to look at him. Of all the things he could talk to you about, he chooses that?

Maybe it’s just his way of appeasing you, as though you’ll forget the last few weeks ever happened.

“Better on you than me; I always hated wearing it. Too stuffy and hot. It always got—”

“Caught on your staples, I know.” The words are already falling from your mouth; no matter how hard you grip your arms or bite your tongue, they just keep on coming. “That’s why you don’t like to wear sweaters, they make you itch and you overheat way too fast.”

Silence—for a moment you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. You swallow hard and twist your head, nails biting into the sleeves of the hoodie. His arm is over his eyes, but you can still see the slight quiver in his jaw when you start talking.

“I know you can’t stand being in a car for more than ten minutes, or else you’ll start to feel sick. I know you like to drink but not too much, because you hate the way it makes you feel like you’re losing control of your body. You hate the way your head starts swimming and you have to lay down with a rag on your head. I know you prefer Camels but you can’t always find them, and that’s why I keep a stash of them on the kitchen counter, in case you end up running out.”

Your hands are clenched into fists now, your heart leaping in your throat with every word you say. You have no idea if he’s even listening, or if he’s fallen asleep from exhaustion or boredom. But there’s no stopping the words from spilling out, your tongue burning with every syllable, every breath you suck in just to calm your racing heart.

“You like sleeping on your left side rather than your right because you think it helps you fall asleep faster—and it doesn’t hurt as much, the worst of your scars are on your right side. You’re a fan of that special cherry-scented shampoo in my bathroom, the one you always use whenever you beg me to bathe with you. You still have that stupid keychain I got for you last Christmas, the one that splits into two halves of a heart. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you leave out some food for the stray cats in the alley behind my apartment—because I know it’s you. Only you could leave a tray of cat food smelling like an ashtray, dummy.”

That was quite a sight to wake up to: a ragtag group of kittens right below your kitchen window, lapping up food from a little silver tin—something that had definitely not been there the night before. And while the whole alleyway smelled of smoke and ash, there wasn’t a single cigarette stub to be found on the pavement. Too worried one of the cats might decide to chew on them, probably. As much as he tried to downplay it, Dabi did have a soft spot for animals. He had a heart of his own, somewhere in that scarred, ragged chest of his.

Which is why this whole situation hurts you so much. You know he cares about whatever kind of bond the two of you have. You know he’s so much more than what he claims to be. You know that deep down inside him, he’s still the boy with the bright blue eyes—Touya Todoroki, the boy who dreamed of becoming a hero one day.

I know you, so let me in. I’ll still be by your side, no matter what you do.

“And I know that I could never leave you when you’re in pain like this, even if you tell me to.” It’s hard to keep your voice soft, but you try your best anyway. Anything for him. “Even if you scream at me and try to scare me, I’ll never leave you. Not now, and not ever. So please, just…”—suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, your eyes growing blurry at the edges—“…let me help you.”

He could scoff and brush you off. He could glare and demand for you to get out. He could crush you so easily, referring to the last actual conversation you had, where he claimed you were nothing more than a way for him to blow off some steam. He could incinerate this entire mansion, taking you down with it—and quite possibly himself. But no matter what happens, or what he may do, you have to stand your ground. You made a promise not only to him, but to yourself as well. To keep the two of you safe, even if the entire world stood against you. To love him until you took your dying breath, and to trust in him to do the same for you.

I don’t care what you’ve done or who you are, or even what you plan to do. No matter what happens, I will always have a special place in my heart for you.

Those were the exact words you’d said to him on his birthday, in this very mansion. And you still meant every single one of them, as if you’d said them just moments ago.

“…C’mere.”

Your mouth falls open when he finally moves his arm away from his face, only to drum his fingers against his bare chest. Those blue eyes are unnaturally bright, beckoning you closer—as though he’s the devil you’ve been warned to stay away from your entire life.

It’s a bit awkward at first, stumbling off the floor and crawling up the length of his body. But there’s no word of protest, no sign of discomfort as you throw one leg over his waist, settling down on his hips as gently as you can. Suddenly those scarred palms are stretching out to you, and you lean in to press a line of kisses across the fresh purple marks.

“Stubborn little shit.” The words are harsh but there’s no bite to them—only a soft glint in those beautiful eyes of his. “It’s too late for you to head back home already, isn’t it?”

You give him a shrug, dragging your mouth to the inner part of his wrist. “I guess so. Like hell am I leaving you here all alone with those injuries.”

You both know he’s lived through worse, a few misplaced staples aren’t going to kill him overnight. But you’ll take any excuse you can get to stay with him, even for just a bit longer.

He hums at that, leaning his head against the arm of the couch. His fingers are warm against your skin, brushing across your forehead as he sweeps a few stray pieces of hair off to the side. When he’s done you take ahold of his wrist again, pressing a few kisses against the fresh staples in his palm, as soft as you can manage. That gets a laugh from him—short and breathless, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Never know when to quit, do you? You keep chasin’ after me, even when I tell you not to. I thought you had a brain in that pretty little head of yours, doll.”

“I do, and I could’ve easily let you bleed out from your wounds.” You run your hands across the staples on his chest, down his abdomen before working your way back up his arms. “But I didn’t, because I’m just that kind of person.”

“Hm, a good girl who’s got a soft spot for a dangerous villain?”

“You’re not a villain,” you tell him, even though you both know that’s a blatant lie. “And I don’t have just a soft spot for you. I…”

One minute the words are there on your tongue—and the next your lips are pressed together, too afraid to speak as those burning blue eyes bleed into your own.

I love you. That’s all you have to say; three simple words, and your fate is sealed.

So…why are they so fucking hard to say out loud?

You do love him. You love him so much your chest aches whenever you look at him. It hurts whenever you know he’s putting himself in danger, risking his life to destroy what made him this way in the first place. He tries to hide it with a cocky smirk and a few flirtatious comments, but you know him better than that. This is the same man who huddles deep under the blankets of your bed with you, even though he claims they’re too scratchy against his skin. The same man who rests his head in your lap and lets you play with his hair, who will sometimes ask about whatever book you’re currently reading at the moment. The same man you’ve caught, on at least two separate occasions, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, hunched over the running sink, a thin trail of blood trickling from the staples embedded beneath his eyes. The same man who doesn’t even protest as you wrap your arms around him and lead him back to bed, reminding him of just how much he’s needed—how much you need him—with gentle kisses and soft-spoken words.

You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.

He reaches up and presses his thumb and forefinger into your chin, bringing your face down to his. Apparently you’re taking too long to respond.

“Listen to me, doll.” A shiver sweeps down your spine at the familiar pet name. “Are you really willing to sign your life away for a piece of shit like me?”

There he goes again, degrading himself and his worth. Sometimes you wish you could meet the man who did this to him. Stare his father straight in the eye and demand to know what prompted him to treat his own son this way. As though if he wasn’t the epitome of perfection, he was just a worthless waste of space.

“We’ve been over this, Touya.” You can see the twitch of his jaw at his name, his real name spilling from your lips. “You are not a piece of shit. And I wouldn’t be signing anything away; I knew damn well what I was getting myself into when I let you kiss me for the first time.”

A memory from so long ago, of drunken laughter and his heavy coat draped over your shoulders—and your incessant whining that the sleeves weren’t long enough to keep you warm. He had rolled his eyes and shut you up with a kiss, before scooting over to sit behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Claiming that he would keep you warm instead, while you’d been too stunned to speak. Too preoccupied with the taste of his lips—of booze and smoke…and of the slightest scent of cedarwood.

“You’re a pain in my ass and you always know what to say to push my buttons, and I’m still pissed at you for leaving that night—and not coming to visit afterwards. You’re an asshole, no way around it.”

You can feel the tension slipping from your shoulders, the cloud of frustration finally easing from your mind as you reach down to take his face in your hands. Palms pressed against his ragged skin, thumbs grazing the staples below his eyes, savoring the way his lips part at your touch, the way his eyelids flutter as you lean in close. His fingers are burning against your waist, but you trust him not to burn you to ash. You still trust him, even though he’s given you every reason not to.

“But you’re mine. My pain in the neck, my villain, whatever you want to call yourself. My Dabi, my Touya—it doesn’t matter to me, as long as I get to have you.”

It’s the closest you can get to those three damn words without bursting into tears. But he seems to understand, because suddenly he’s twisting his hands into your hair and yanking you down for a searing kiss.

You can remember the first time he kissed you, how you knew you would never get tired of feeling his mouth on your own, or tasting his lips, or seeing the smug look on his face as he pulled himself away, just to see you breathless and begging for more. It’s still the same now, more or less, but with an underlying heat between your bodies. An undeniable wave of desire, crashing over your heads until the only thing you can see, touch, taste, is each other.

A groan slips through his mouth as he tugs you up the length of his body, mismatched lips finding their way to the familiar pulse point in your neck. He’s quick with his work, sucking a fresh bruise just below your jaw, where he knows his hoodie won’t be able to reach. It’s hard not to whine as he works his way down your neck, nipping and sucking as you bury your face and fingers into his soft white hair.

Fuck, you’ve missed this. How long has it been since he’s held you against his body like this, drawing out this wild side, this primal need for him, that only he can hope to tame?

Too long—too fucking long.

“D-Dabi,” you’re panting against his hair, moaning as he ruts his hips up into yours. “…It’s too dark in here—n-need to see you—”

He’s sitting up in a flash, one arm coiled around your waist with his other stretched out behind him. A gentle stream of flame erupts from his palm, illuminating his eyes before settling into the fireplace beside the couch. A thin trail of smoke rises from his wrist, reminding you of all the cigarettes he would smoke out on your balcony in the dead of night.

“Better, doll?”

“Better,” you whisper, and he smirks before pressing his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you forget about everything that’s led you up to this point. For a moment there’s no war between heroes and villains, no innocent civilians caught in the crossfire, no heartbroken memories or damning videos. There’s just the two of you within these four walls, all alone for the first time in almost a month.

And fuck if you’re not going to take advantage of every single second you can.

You push down on his chest, mindful of the scars and staples, and he falls back against the arm of the couch with a grunt. That lopsided smirk, the mischievous glint in his eye—he looks way too pleased with himself, a surefire warning to be on guard. He can be dangerously unpredictable in bed, more so after a mission or a fight with some heroes. All that adrenaline pumping through his veins gives him an extra edge, one he’s all too willing to exploit when he’s tangled up with you.

“Let’s get this off,” he mumbles, lifting the hem of your hoodie, his hoodie over your stomach.

“I’ll be cold,” you whine, but you still let him slip it over your head.

“Don’t worry, doll.” He tosses it to the floor, his mismatched lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I’ll be sure to keep you warm.”

Your shirt follows not too long after, and then he’s kissing his way across your chest, needy fingers already fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You roll your eyes and bat his hands away, and it’s hard not to giggle at the unimpressed look on his face. As though you had the sheer audacity to deny him of what’s rightfully his.

“Your turn, dummy. I’m not gonna be the only one who gets stripped down tonight.”

“Aww, this isn’t enough for you?” He motions to his bare chest with a wave of his hand, looking even more offended when you shake your head at him.

“No, not yet.” He groans when you shift a bit lower in your place against his hips, thumbing the silver button of his pants, licking your lips at the thin trail of white hair that disappears below the waistband. “I wanna see even more of you.”

“Then you better work for it,” he growls, but the feral look in his eye and the way his lip curls over his teeth tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He nestles into the arm of the couch, hands resting behind his head, as he gives an experimental buck of his hips—one that makes you gasp and your face flush with heat.

“You want it that badly, doll? Then show me what you’re made of.”

“Oh I plan to, Touya.”

You crush your mouth against his own, fumbling with that tiny silver button, sighing into his mouth when you finally manage to unclasp it. Your fingers dip down beneath the waistband, down the fabric of his boxers and over the slick patch of skin beneath. He’s so hot, literal flames coursing through his veins with every breath he takes. So dangerous, so lethal.

But you’ve never been scared of him, and you don’t plan on starting now.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slip his pants down to his thighs. But when you drag them down to his knees his hand suddenly curls around your wrist, freezing you in place.

His eyes are wide, his mouth agape, his fingers trembling against my skin.

“Doll…”

It’s not a warning, rather a plea. And it makes your heart ache in your chest all over again.

He’s always kept some of his clothes on during sex, even if they irritate his skin. Usually it’s enough for him to lower his pants just enough to free himself, especially if you’re in a well-lit room. Unless you’re in complete and total darkness, he refuses to strip down completely when he’s with you.

Part of you thinks he’s ashamed of the scars. You know exactly how much of his body they cover, from his face, down his chest, and over his legs. But you’ve never shied away from them, even when they’re still fresh and steaming. They’re just a part of him, the same as his eyes or his hair or that sharp tongue he likes to flaunt around. Another bit of Dabi you’ve grown to admire and love.

“Let me see,” you whisper, kissing the healthy swath of skin on his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Touya, and I want to see all of you.”

Touya, Touya, Touya. How many times has that name crossed your lips? How many nights had he drawn it out of you, breathless and soft as you squirmed beneath his body? How many times did you whisper it into your pillow, tears staining your lashes, as your last night replayed itself over and over again in your head?

Such a lovely name, and you’re still so proud of him for trusting you with it.

“Because you’re mine, right?” His fingers slowly unravel themselves from your wrist. Slowly, but surely. “You’re mine, as much as I’m yours… If you’ll have me, that is,” you add with a nervous giggle.

You’ve been so caught up in wanting to prove to him that you want him, that you never stopped to check if he wants you in the same way. I guess that’s what I get for being so eager.

He scoffs, tangling his fingers in your hair once more. “Fuck, you know I want you, dollface.”

Your chest swells with pride—and something else you’re not quite ready to put a label on just yet.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now lift your hips, I wanna see you.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, the sting of staples as he kicks his heavy boots and pants off and onto the dusty floor. Large patches stretch along his legs, marred skin mixed with healthy flesh, rusty staples and crude stitching piecing him all together. It’s a sight that makes your chest ache, one that would’ve made your stomach roll at one point or another. Just another reason for you to despise the bastard who did this to him.

His kisses are light against your lips, a stark contrast to the harsh rut of his hips beneath you. Trace every bit of skin and staples you can find with your fingers, ragged and smooth, until it blends together beneath your palms. Until the only thing you can feel is Dabi.

He manages to slip your pants down over your ass, letting you lean on him just enough to slide out of them and toss them on the floor. That gets a chuckle out of both of you; it’s not exactly easy to undress while simultaneously trying not to fall off this old fucking couch. For a brief moment you wonder if you should move upstairs to an actual bed, but that thought quickly turns to dust when he dips a finger into your panties, and you realize you can’t fucking wait any longer.

“Oh? So fucking wet already, aren’t you?”

He smirks against your mouth, dragging a couple of fingers across the slick patch of skin. You gasp and roll your hips, and he seems to gain some of his confidence back—you can feel it in the way he touches you, his fingers teasing your soaked slit.

“Tell me, did you just get this wet for me now, or did you walk in here already dripping like a bitch in heat?”

A shudder courses through your veins, nails finding purchase in his scarred shoulders. Not too rough, you don’t want him to start bleeding again, not so—

“Answer me.”

You’re squirming in his lap as he spreads your folds apart, his thumb barely ghosting over your clit. But when you try to squeeze your thighs together he tightens his grip and slaps your ass hard.

“J-just now,” you manage to choke out between gasps, “…I-I swear—”

“Hm, my pretty doll,” he whispers, and his fingers curl around your chin to pull you closer, “for some reason, I don’t fucking believe you.”

He’s pulling away all too soon, smirking when a whine slips past your mouth. He shifts himself lower on the couch, his head resting on the cushion rather than the arm. He licks his lips, brings his hand to his face—the same one he just had buried between your thighs—and taps his mouth with the tip of his finger.

“C’mon, doll. Sit on my face like a good girl.”

It’s almost laughable how fast you’re tearing your panties off, absolutely pathetic how easily you submit to his will. It’s been too long since you’ve had a night like this, a night where the only two people in the world are you and him.

He groans when you settle yourself over his face, nails digging into the ratty arm of the sofa, shivering at the touch of his hands on your waist. His palms are warm—too warm to be natural. And sure enough you can see a wisp of blue emitting from his palm, before he tugs your entire weight down to sit on his face.

“Dabi, wait—”

Your breath catches at the first brush of his tongue, that familiar piercing he has right on the tip—shit, he knows just how that drives me crazy—

“Y-you’re staples!” Another gasp as he holds you in place, his palms heating up ever so slightly against your outer thighs. “Just d-don’t rip them out—ah—be c-careful!”

“’S fine,” he mumbles, pulling himself away just enough to lick at his wet lips, “I know you’ll just patch me up again if I tear them out.”

You don’t even have time to argue before he’s forcing you down on his face again, lapping at your pussy like a starved man. It’s all so exhilarating—the heat of his hands, the slight pinch of the staples in his jaw, the way his tongue slides against your folds in every way imaginable—

Suddenly his lips find their way around your clit, sucking hard and fast—and you sink your nails into the white roots of his hair.

“Dabi!”

You’re grinding yourself on his face now, gasping as each thrust brings you right against his tongue, his nose bumping against your burning clit. His eyes are glowing beneath your body, matching the shade of the flames in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the two of you. So warm, so comforting, so powerful—and absolutely feral.

He slips his tongue inside, tightens his grip on your thighs as he rocks you back and forth on his face. Your palms are slick with sweat, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you scream out his name at the top of your lungs. So loud you’re surprised any heroes that may be nearby don’t start breaking down the doors and crashing through the windows. Though you have no doubt in your mind Dabi would refuse to stop at this point, no matter what could be lurking beyond these walls.

“Dabi, Dabi, Dabi…” His eyes flicker up to yours, his eyebrow quirked and his nose pressing against your clit. “I—ngh—I can’t take it—please, let me come—”

Like he needs to be told twice.

His nails sink into the flesh of your thighs—part of you is already wondering if you’ll still have bruises by tomorrow morning—and he starts thrusting your hips against his tongue at a rapid pace. You try your best to keep up and rock yourself against him but he’s just too fast. Never mind the strain on your muscles, the coil in your stomach that’s growing tighter and tighter with every buck of your hips. You might as well be a toy at this point, boneless and pretty, made for his pleasure rather than your own.

A doll. His doll.

And suddenly you’re bursting at the seams, the corners of your eyes sparkling with stars, the coil in your stomach finally snapping apart. Dabi’s all too eager to lap up your release, his tongue making you shiver as you gush all over his face.

“Such a good girl,” his voice is raspy as he finally lifts you off of him, circling his hands over the fresh marks on your thighs.

Your sight’s a little hazy, but you can still make out a few split staples on each side of his mouth, ripped apart between burned and healthy skin. But he’s on you before you can say a word, hoisting you into his arms and pulling you against his chest, with your legs wrapped around his waist. He presses his mouth to yours, dragging his tongue across your own, smirking when you gasp at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Still taste so fucking good, dollface.” Suddenly he’s pushing his hands on your chest, caging you against the cushions of the couch, his elbows on either side of your head. “I think you’re ready for my fingers now. You think so?”

You’re nodding as hard as you can, nearly clunking your foreheads together, and he lets out one of those rare laughs you’ve come to love so much.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, yes—fuck, I’m ready!”

This is Dabi in his element: painfully patient, well aware of the power he holds over your body, and relishing every single second of it.

He hums in delight, slipping a finger beneath the strap of your bra, resting against your shoulder. “Take this off for me—unless you want it turned to ash.”

You’re certain the clasp snaps apart with how fast you rip it off, tossing it over the arm of the couch. He smirks again as he lowers his head, pressing a kiss to your breast. A stark contrast to the primal way he was handling you earlier, but it makes you whine all the same.

He’s slow with his movements now, kneading your breasts together, pressing a line of kisses down your chest, dragging his tongue against the pulse point in your neck. He’s so soft and gentle you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, the exhaustion from your orgasm finally catching up to me.

“Dabi,” your voice is soft against his temple, “Dabi, I—ah!”

He slides a finger inside, smirking down as he brushes his mouth against your forehead.

“Eyes on me, doll. Don’t want you dozing off on me just yet, now do we?”

You can’t find the words to answer him as he adds another finger, curling them upward, drawing out another pathetic whine from the pit of your chest.

“We’re not even close to bein’ done for the night, so you just keep those pretty little eyes open for me, and let me do all the work. You understand?”

You start to nod but think the better of it, opting to choke out, “Y-yeah, I do…”

“Hm, so you can listen.” He starts pumping his fingers at a gentle pace, keeping his other arm beside your head on the couch. You can’t stop yourself from squirming beneath him as he curls his fingers, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

“D-Dabi—”

“Good girl,” he hisses against your temple, “good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s achingly slow with his thrusts, dragging his fingers against every inch of you, every bit of flesh he can reach. Your hands find their way around his shoulder blades, nails cutting into the scarred skin as he presses down hard on your clit. You’re squealing against his mouth now, dragging your hands down the ragged skin, wincing when you pull away and see a faint shadow of red beneath your nails.

“Shit, I’m so s-sorry,” the bastard’s still pumping his fingers into you, “I-I didn’t mean to m-make you bleed—”

But he’s quick to shush you, his other hand hovering over your neck. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, pretty girl, it’s not important.”

Like hell it is, I’m not patching you up again just because you like it rough—

“Ah, there it is.” He smirks as he brushes his fingers upward, hitting that special spot that has you whining and squirming and digging your nails even deeper into his skin. “You gonna come for me, doll? Be my good girl and squirt all over my fingers?”

Your chest is heaving, legs raised to wrap themselves around his hips, gasping out his name as he drives his fingers deeper into your body.

“Y-yes, Dabi—fuck!” You’re so close, that familiar coil winding up in the pit of your stomach, almost there, almost there—

“That’s it, come for me. Make a mess for me, doll. Come on—oh, that’s it—so fucking good for me, aren’t ya?”

You’re shuddering against his burned chest, carving your nails into his skin as the coil finally explodes. You can feel yourself clamping down hard on his fingers, legs jerking as he traces his thumb over your clit, his voice as he mumbles a slew of filthy words against your ear.

“Hey, keep your eyes open.” He taps your cheek, leaving a smear of your juices on your skin. But he’s all too eager to press his lips to it and clean you off. “Turn around, doll, get on your knees. Can you do that for me?”

Anything for you, but your tongue is too thick to get the words out. Instead you give him a nod, twisting your body around as he shuffles himself off of you. Before you know it you’re leaning against the arm of the couch, grasping at the torn fabric as he settles himself behind you. There’s a soft rustling sound as he slides his boxers down, but when you try to glance back at him his hand curls around the back of your head, keeping your head forward and hanging over the arm of the couch.

“W-wanna see you…”

“Later, pretty girl. You’ll get to see me later.”

There’s a familiar bite to his tone; not the one that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, but the kind that makes your hands twitch and your throat burn. He’s still doubting the way he looks, even after everything you’ve done so far. Does he still not trust you enough to see all of him like you let him see all of you?

But then your mind goes blank as he leans into you, hands hot against your hips, the wet sound of slick filling your ears as he takes his cock in his hand. He thumps it against your clit, and the edge of the piercing on the tip has you trembling all over again.

“Deep breaths for me,” he mumbles, his breath hot against your nape, “deep breaths, doll…”

He pushes himself in, bit by bit, groaning when you whine his name beneath him. He’s stretching you out, so tight and warm you think you might burst, the collection of piercings adorning his cock making your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every ridge of skin, every touch of metal and breath against your body sends you over the edge, sucking him in as he bottoms out inside you with a moan.

“Fuck, so tight…”

It’s all too much; the heat of his body against your own, the touch of his lips on your neck, and the throb of his cock deep inside you. Suddenly you’re dragging the back of your hand over your eyes, praying with everything you have that Dabi won’t see what he does to you.

It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d have him like this again. Not after that night…

Not after what had been said. Not after he’d screamed that he wanted nothing more to do with you, that you were just a body to keep him busy in the dead of night. Not after you’d told him to get out of your apartment, to walk out of your life forever, that you would be better off without him. The words still rang in your head, echoing through those late nights in your bed, the sheets damp with sweat and the pillow stained with tears.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, I was only trying to hurt you. Just like you hurt me. But I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, because I—

“Still with me, doll?” You swallow hard and nod your head, keeping your eyes on the arm of the couch. His hands are surprisingly soft against your hips. “Gonna start moving, you ready?”

You close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his skin, both burned and smooth, against your own. “Of course I am. Just fuck me already.”

He’s steady at first, mindful of his size and your position on the couch. Rolling his hips into your own, massaging your hips with his scarred palms, the occasional curse slipping through his mouth. It’s been too long since you’ve found yourself in a situation like this; despite your best efforts, you haven’t been with anyone else since that last night. Every face, hand, pair of lips against your own reminds you of him.

But now you have him, after all this time, and you’ll be damned if you don’t have him at least try to make up for the month of hell he put you through.

You’re thrusting your hips against his own, relishing the groan and startled look in his eye when you gaze up at him from over your shoulder. “I said fuck me, didn’t I?” Come on, I know you can do better than that. “So don’t hold back.”

And suddenly he’s wrapping a fist around your hair, rutting his hips into yours like an animal in heat. The wet sound of his skin slapping against your own, his cock sliding in and out of you, the feral groan he lets out in the form of your name—it’s too much too soon, leaving you gasping for air over the arm of the couch.

“Little fucking slut, aren’t ya? Always so eager for my cock. Tell me,” he sneers, and you jolt when his breath clouds over the shell of your ear, “did you come all the way out here tonight hoping to get your pretty little brains fucked out?”

Not entirely—the possibility hadn’t even crossed your mind on the trek here. But that’s not what comes out of your mouth.

“M-maybe—fuck, yes!” You cry out as his palm comes down hard on your ass, your pitiful words only fueling his ego. “S-so rough…”

“Aww, doll, I thought you liked it when I’m rough with you?” Another thrust of his hips, his cock pounding against that sweet spot deep inside you. “Let me ask you, how many men did you fuck while I was gone?”

“N-none…”

“Hm? Couldn’t hear ya, doll. Speak up.”

He smacks your ass again, eliciting another scream from your throat. “None! No one else, only…only you, Dabi…”

The tears are spilling freely down your cheeks, leaving little pools on the arm of the couch. Dabi groans again as he yanks your hair back, his lips searing against the skin of your jaw.

“Say it again. Say my name.”

“Dabi, Dabi—”

“Not that one, doll.”

Your heart thrums against your ribcage, eyes wide and teary, but you can still feel a smile on your face.

“Touya!”

He’s pounding into you at a brutal pace, one hand still wrapped around your hair as his other hand slides down the length of your body, between your thighs to circle over your burning clit. You’re gasping out his name, nails biting into the arm of the sofa, bucking your hips back to meet his thrusts halfway.

A stray tear slides down your cheek; he releases his hold on your hair just to wipe it away and kiss the heated skin below.

“Touya, I-I’m so close—so fucking close—”

It’s right there within your reach, burning on the tip of your tongue, your eyes fluttering shut with every thrust he gives you.

“Don’t hold back,” he hisses as you push back against him with a whimper. He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing them in hard, tight circles. “Wanna hear you scream, got it?”

You can only nod your head, your words slurring together as he brings you closer and closer to your peak.

“C’mon, cream all over my cock—”

“F-fuck, Touya!”

Suddenly you’re tumbling over the edge, pressing your face into the arm of the couch, clenching your thighs around his hand. A tremble courses through your body, vision flooding with white, whining out his name as he continues to circle your clit, even when you’re spent and slumped in his arms.

“That’s it, doll, such a good girl for me.” But there’s a strain in his voice, a familiar fire in his thrusts as he chases his own release. “So good, so fucking good—”

Something warm and rough closes over the back of your hand; your eyes open to see his fingers lacing through your own, pinning your hand to the arm of the couch. It’s not long before he shifts himself to grasp your other hand, caging your body against the couch, his voice raspy and his breaths short against the shell of your ear.

“Gonna come—where do you want it, doll?”

You squeeze his fingers with your own, eyes fixed on the burned skin of his arm. “I-inside… Want you inside me, Touya…”

His chest shudders against your back, face pressed against your neck as he stills his thrusts, spilling himself inside of you. He stays there for a moment, panting against your skin, still holding your hands in his scarred ones, the heat of his body giving you an entirely new sense of bliss you thought you’d lost for good.

But then he slides himself out, his cum dribbling onto the cushions below, and you can’t help but giggle when his cock brushes against your inner thigh.

“Still hard?” He scoffs and starts to pull away—but your hands are already curling around his wrists, tugging him back down to your level. “Lay down,” you manage to slur out, “wanna be on top now.”

He barks out a laugh but settles down on the couch anyway, tracing the skin of your hips with his nails.

“Sure you’re up for this, dollface?” You nod, straddling his hips for the second time tonight. “You look worn out, don’t want you falling asleep on me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fucked me in my sleep,” you murmur, and he only smirks at the memory. Needy asshole. “Besides, you had me the way you wanted. And now it’s my turn.”

“Oh? And in what way do you want me?” He squeezes his hands around your ass and pulls you in close. “My cock not good enough for you anymore?”

“No, it’s more than enough.” You press your hands to the planes of his chest, smiling as he sinks into the messy cushions below. “I just wanna see your eyes when I tell you how beautiful you are.”

That’s when you see it: the tiniest clench of his jaw, the glazed look in his eye that lets you know, he thinks it’s all bullshit. That he won’t believe you, no matter how many times you say it to his face.

“…I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I said I wanted all of you, didn’t I? I meant it, even your looks. Your hair, your eyes, these scars…” You lean down to kiss his neck, eliciting the softest groan from his chest. “They’re my favorite part about you.”

“Why?” The look in his eyes is so uncertain, so terrified—as if he’s still a child, begging for someone to accept him. “They’re just scars. They’re…ugly.”

“Not really. They show just how strong you are. How strong your flames are, how determined you are. No matter what’s standing in your way, you always find a way to persist. And that’s why I—”

Love you.

You clamp your mouth shut, fighting the urge to slap both hands over your face. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot! Now he’s staring at you with those big eyes and you’re fucking everything up and—

“That’s why I…I want every part of you.” Anti-climactic, but it eases some of the weight off your chest. “Every bit you have to offer. Scars, fears, sins—none that scares me. I want all of them, because I want you. All I care about is you, Touya.”

He’s growing increasingly uneasy, you can see it in the way his eyes dart back and forth between your own and the ceiling, the slight quiver of his hands against your waist. Words have never really been his strong suit in situations like this, so you can tell he’s having trouble coming up with a response. So before he can you lean down to kiss him again, your hands roaming all across his body.

Actions seem to speak louder than words, anyway.

A thin sheen of sweat gathers along the healthy skin of his chest, the silver staples glimmering at the corners. He’s gorgeous in this light, sprawled out beneath you on the couch, the faint hue of the fireplace flickering over his skin. Matching those beautiful eyes, so sad and lost, and the wisps of flame dancing along his fingertips.

You lower your hand down his abdomen, over his hips, and smile when he gasps when you take his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy in the palm of your hand, adorned with little silver piercings along the base and tip. You remember asking him about them when you first started your little relationship, how he smirked when you asked him if they hurt at all. At the time he’d shrugged his shoulders and pulled you into his chest, insisting that they didn’t hurt anymore, that they would feel much better inside you anyway. Even now you still can’t believe how desperate he can be just for a good fuck.

Those blue eyes are still wide, burning with that same hint of lust from earlier. As if he’s trusting you to make him feel good—to take care of him, just as he’s always done to you.

“Breathe, Touya.” It’s hard to keep the smile out of your voice as he squirms beneath you, tightens his grip around your waist. “I’ve got you.”

And I’m never letting you go ever again.

It takes a few strokes of your hand before he’s bucking himself into your palm, silently whining for you to get on with it. You spread your thighs and position yourself over his cock—but not before pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

I love you.

He groans out your name as you sink yourself down onto him. That familiar stretch of his cock makes your chest shudder, a moan slipping through your parted lips. Despite the mess of cum and sweat between your bodies, neither of you seems bothered all that much. What’s the point of getting upset over it when you’re just going to add to the mess later on?

“…Maybe you were right about this position, doll.” He lifts a hand and squeezes the underside of your breast, earning a pleased hum from your throat. “Gonna enjoy seeing your face when I fuck you like this.”

“As if,” you try to laugh, but it’s hard to keep your voice steady. “I’m the one who’s fucking you this time.”

“We’ll see about that.”

But before he can move you take his hands in your own, raising them up and pinning them beside his head on the arm of the couch. Smirking at the mischievous look in those hooded eyes.

“Not a chance, Touya. You’re gonna be good for me—whatever I have to offer, you’re gonna lay there and take it.”

“Oh am I, doll? Since when did you get all demanding and feisty, huh? I guess me being gone for a bit made you needier than usual, huh?”

Probably, but there’s no way in hell you’ll admit it to his face. So instead you grind your hips down onto his, and he gasps and moans out your name.

“C-can’t say I don’t like it.” His breaths are growing shorter with every thrust of your hips. “You used to be s-so shy and timid, and you still are. Sure didn’t put up a fight when I fucked your brains out earlier, now did you?”

If he’s still talking, I’m not doing a good enough job.

“N-no, you didn’t—!” He still tries to laugh even when you pick up the pace, sinking your nails into the marred skin of his wrists. “Loved every second of it, didn’t you? I know you did—always a little slut for my cock—my little slut—”

Suddenly your nails are digging into the patches on his throat, his blue eyes blown wide with lust as you lean in close, so close your nose brushes against his own.

“Shut up. Just shut up and let me fuck you.”

Let me love you.

That seems to convince him; curiosity and lust seem to win him over as he complies with your orders, keeping his hands above his head, snapping his mouth shut for good. But then he’s moaning again as you roll your hips down, and his sounds only encourage you to go faster.

You press your palms against his chest, nails cutting into the healthy flesh beneath the staples, and start bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. His hands are free for now, but he doesn’t try to take control and subdue you. Instead he’s grabbing onto your hips, ramming himself deeper inside you with every thrust.

He’s hitting that same spot deep inside you, the one that makes you see stars and scream his name out to the world. The muscles in your thighs are burning; three orgasms in and you’re still chasing after a fourth like a bitch in heat. But it’s hard to resist the urge when you have him below you like this, staring up at you with those beautiful blue eyes, whispering “good girl” and “fuck, that’s it” into the musty air around you.

“C’mon, harder. I know you can do better than that—fuck—”

Dabi, Touya—it doesn’t matter what he wants to be called, you still end up screaming both names out at the top of your lungs. So loud you want everyone to know just who can make you feel this way, who holds your heart and soul and body in his scarred hands. Because he’s worth everything to you, someone you trust with your life even if you shouldn’t. Someone you don’t have to hide yourself from, to put on a front or a fake smile for. Someone who makes your heart flutter and your palms sweaty and your chest ache, because you—

“…Love you.”

It’s out there��you can’t take it back now. Not when you’re so close; not when he’s staring up at you like that.

As though you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

But your words don’t seem to deter him in the slightest. Instead he’s slamming you down on his cock even harder than before, swallowing your squeals as he pulls you in for another searing kiss. He’s sitting up now, arms wrapped around your waist as you bounce yourself in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” the tears are already bubbling in your eyes, “but I love you—love you so fucking much—”

“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, as though he hasn’t used it in years. “You mean it?”

“Yes, I do! Y-you’re the only one for m-me—”

Your hands close around his shoulders, his breath burning against your neck—you can already feel the coil in your stomach, ready to snap. So close, so close—

“Almost there, doll. Ride me—give me everything you’ve got—”

You roll your hips as hard as you can, and at the first touch of his fingers against your clit you’re clenching hard around his cock. Screaming his name out as you feel every ridge and piercing move against you, inside of you as you’re gushing all over his lap.

But he’s not far behind, chasing his own release as he picks up the pace. You gather his face in your hands, running your thumbs along the lines of staples that keep his jaw secure, tasting his breath on your tongue.

And you know you should stop talking before you make everything worse, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing your mouth against his own and whispering, “Love you, Touya.”

Suddenly he’s gasping into your mouth, palms unnaturally hot against your hips—and when you give him a nod he presses his fingers deeper into your skin. A blistering sense of heat spreads throughout your body; a scream bubbles up in your throat. Touya groans out your name as he gives one final thrust, spilling himself inside you as his fingers sear their prints into the skin of your hips.

The two of you are shuddering, kissing each other furiously, blinking the sweat from your eyes. His body is already starting to overheat, a thin layer of steam rising from the stapled skin of his chest. But that doesn’t seem to be his main concern; instead he’s lowering his hands to inspect the fresh burns on your hips.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only a little,” you tell him, but he’s still kissing along the marks anyway.

It’s not the first time he’s branded you in the heat of the moment. It took him a while to agree to it, along with an incessant amount of begging on your part, and he’s still always so attentive to them whenever he does it during sex. It always baffles you how he can be so concerned and caring with taking care of the light burns he leaves on your skin, but he completely neglects his own.

“Touya, it’s fine, I’ll just clean them up in a bit. I promise I’ll be—”

But then he glances up at you, and your chest swells when you see the trails of blood leaking from the staples underneath his eyes. You try to wipe them off but he catches your wrists and tugs you close, pressing kiss after kiss against your sweaty palms.

“To—”

“Say it again.” His voice is almost pitiful, the look in his bloody eyes worse than any burn mark on your skin. “Please.”

In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never heard the man beg. Not as Touya and definitely not as Dabi. But the hopeful look in his eyes makes you want to cry. To hold him in your arms and shield him from the rest of the world. To fight off his insecurities tooth and nail, to chase away all those horrible thoughts and memories that keep him up at night. To press a thousand kisses along his face and down his body, ending at his lips before giving him a thousand more.

You take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. His white hair tickles your nose, still smelling of smoke and ash.

“You know I love you, Touya. When I said I wanted you, I meant it. I want everything that makes you, you; I want to see you grow and thrive and make the best out of this world we’re in. And no matter how many times you try to push me away—even if you think it’s for my own good—I won’t ever leave you alone. I promise to stay by your side, no matter what you’ve done or what you may do in the future. Because I love you, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe me.”

There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say that will make you change your mind. He is the one you’ve decided to trust with your heart. The one you’ve grown to care about more than anyone else in the world. And you’ll keep saying it, even if he never believes you. Even if he never sees you in that same light.

He doesn’t speak a word, doesn’t even make a sound. He simply holds your body against his own, pressing his stapled cheek to your breasts. You can feel his heartbeat below the ragged skin of his chest, the vibrations lulling you into a light sleep.

B-bmp, b-bmp, b-bmp.

Finally he breaks the silence with a grunt, lifting you off his lap and sliding himself out of you. Your thighs are burning with exhaustion, not unlike the heat engraved in your hips. But Dabi’s careful as he swings his legs over the side of the couch, gathering you in his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

Wordlessly he carries you to the nearby bathroom, where he sets you down on the counter and washes out your burns. He reaches for the little tube of ointment in the cabinet—the same brand you have back at your apartment—and squirts a small amount on his fingers. You do your best to stay still as he slathers it over the burns, trying to be as gentle as he possibly can. And once he’s done he cleans off his hands, grabs a roll of bandages from the counter, and presses them over the marks on your hips. Definitely not the first time you’ve worn bandages like these on your body—or the first time Dabi’s been the one to apply them.

It’s not like him to go this long without saying anything. Not a single snarky comment or flirty remark, just to get a reaction out of you. It’s almost terrifying, the way he refuses to make any sound—or even talk to you.

Did I say anything wrong? Was I too forward with my little speech earlier? Is he angry at me for admitting my feelings to him?

“…Touya?” No answer. You clear your throat and try again. “Touya, are you okay? …Are you—”

“How can I be, after what you said out there?”

Oh.

Did you read the entire situation wrong? Perhaps he’s ready to leave you for good this time, making sure you can’t follow him wherever he goes?

The mere thought hurts you more than it should. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot, thinking he’d feel the same about you.

“…I’m sorry—”

“No don’t, don’t fucking do that…” He lets out a sigh, swiping a hand through his hair as he all but tosses the roll of bandages on the counter. “It’s not…you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Then…why? Why are you still pushing me away when you know I love you?

And then it hits you: the problem lies within that phrase, those three simple words that crawled their way out of your mouth. Maybe he does feel the same, and he doesn’t know how to come out and say it. Or even if he should say it. Because as much as it pains you to think about, those three little words must’ve been pretty rare in his old life with his family.

Or maybe he doesn’t feel that way at all, and you’re still stuck in a perfect little fantasy, hoping it’ll all work out in the end.

You suck in a deep breath, until your chest aches from the stretch, and begin to speak.

“Touya, do you…feel the same way about me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. You clear your throat and rephrase the question.

“Do you care about me? Say no if you don’t.” He snaps his mouth shut, and the tiniest bit of pride blooms in your chest. “So then, do you…like me the same way I like you?” And suddenly you’re a child on the playground again, wondering if your crush thinks of you in the same way you think about him.

“…I…I think I do, but…”

Blood trails are streaming down his cheeks. With every word he looks more unsure of himself, more confused, as the man he’s built himself up to be begins to crumble down before your eyes. It’s hard to breathe as you watch him break down. The blood, the scars, the way his hands curl around his face—and suddenly you’re jumping off the counter, legs shaking, heart leaping in your throat, and taking him into your arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to say it out loud. You don’t have to give me an answer right away.”

You stretch out your fingers, the tips brushing against the staples beneath his eyes. He doesn’t flinch away, even as you wipe away the trickles of blood, and you sigh in relief. A small victory, one that gives you hope that maybe this can all work itself out.

“If you don’t wanna say anything, that’s okay. I get it, believe me. But please don’t push me away anymore. I want to be close to you, okay? To stay by your side even when you don’t want me to be. So please, just…let me stay with you…”

It’s an eternity before he moves again. He slides his hand into your hair and tugs you in, mismatched lips finding their way to your forehead. You lean up to kiss his split jaw, giggling softly when he brushes his nose against your own. And for a moment, it seems like everything’s going to be okay.

You’ll be alright. You can wait for him, as long as he needs you to.

It takes some convincing (and a few heated kisses) for him to let you clean out his wounds for real and reapply his staples. The bastard’s jaw is barely hanging on at this point, a look he wears like a badge of honor. He doesn’t even wince as you snap a batch of fresh staples into his cheeks.

“Why the long face, doll?” You roll your eyes and drop another bloody staple into the tray on the counter. “You know damn well this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”

“And it’ll be the last if you keep running your mouth like that.”

“Not if I can help it—”

“Touya.” There’s a warning in your voice but he only laughs it off.

“Touya,” he mocks in a high pitched voice, “let me come! Touya, please don’t rip your staples out! Touya, please fuck me, I need you inside me!”

“Touya!” Louder this time, but he only laughs harder.

“Yeah that’s it, doll. Sure weren’t complaining earlier, when you had my tongue inside your—”

You slap his chest as hard as you can without damaging the staples. It seems to shut him up long enough for you to finish patching him up, but he’s still wearing that fucking smirk that makes you weak in the knees.

At least he’s eased up for now. As much as you adore him, it’s not easy seeing him act all unsure of himself. As though he has to hide who he really is from you.

When the blood’s finally cleared off and his scars are treated, he takes a fresh cloth from the cabinet and soaks it under the sink. He runs it along your thighs, wiping away any traces of his cum. After he’s finished you rinse the cloth with warm water and press it along his sweaty chest. Careful the fabric doesn’t get caught on the staples lined across his skin.

Once the two of you are cleaned off, he scoops you up in his arms with your legs wrapped around his hips, and he leads you back into the room with the fireplace. You’ll have to wait until you get back to your place for a proper shower; unfortunately this old mansion doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to running water. But judging by the way Touya’s carrying you, with his arms tight around your waist, you’re starting to think he’s not ready to leave this mansion just yet.

He cleans off the messy cushions—which consists of him wiping them down with a wad of tissues before flipping them over—and plops himself down right in the center. He pulls on his pants and slips on his boots, before tossing you that old hoodie of his that still smells like smoke. You pull it over your head, mindful of the bandages on your hips, and try not to think of how dangerously low his pants are resting on his hips.

He reclines back against the arm, kicking his legs up and pulling you down on his chest once more. You’re straddling his hips again, wearing nothing but his old hoodie, your face pressed against his scarred chest.

“…Wish I had a cigarette right now.”

You stifle a laugh, reach into the pocket of the hoodie, and hold out a little white package to him. His eyes go wide for a moment, before he tugs it from your grasp and gives you one of those all-knowing smirks.

“Aww, how did you know? And these are my favorite, doll.”

You shrug and snuggle deeper into his chest. “Thought you’d want one or two so I brought ‘em with me.”

He slips the little stick between his lips and wiggles his eyebrows. “So that’s why you came here—I was right after all, huh?”

“As if, fuckin’ pervert. It’s not my fault you only wanna smoke after sex.”

He lets out a chuckle, lifting a blue-tipped finger to the end of the stick. Your eyes follow the tiny flame, the gorgeous hue of its sparks, the gentle wisps that coil into the air, before it vanishes with a quick wave of his hand.

A comfortable silence stretches over the two of you. Your gaze wanders up to the window above, revealing the pale half-moon behind the dark clouds. You wonder what time it is… But then you realize it doesn’t matter and press your face against the ragged skin of his neck. It’s just you and him for now, nothing else matters right now. The whole world could burn to ashes and you wouldn’t care—because you have the man you love wrapped up in your arms.

“Tell me,” he finally rasps, stubbing out his cigarette with his thumb. A blue wisp of flame engulfs the little stick, and seconds later he’s dusting the ash off his hand and onto the floor below. “Did you mean it? What you said earlier?”

Oh, I guess we’re back to this.

You lean up against his chest, chin propped up on your palm, to find him staring up at the dirty ceiling above. His fingers drum along the small of your back, the heel of his boot thumping against the arm at a gentle rhythm. He doesn’t meet your eyes, even when you start to speak.

“You know I meant it. Every single word. I promise. I’m not gonna leave you alone, no matter how much you push me away. And I’ll keep saying it until I’m blue in the face, you got it?”

When he still doesn’t look at you, you reach up and brush the backs of your fingers over the line of staples in his cheek. He lets out a sigh before catching your hand in his own and bringing it up to his face. And it’s hard to ignore the ache in your chest when he kisses your fingers and knuckles, one by one, before stopping right at the center of your palm.

Suddenly those blue eyes are burning right through you, and the whole world seems to vanish around you.

“Stay with me.”

You nod at once. “I will.”

“Say you love me.”

“I love you—so fucking much—I love you, I love you…”

I love you.

He’s kissing you now, mismatched lips tracing over your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere they can possibly reach. You twist your fingers into his hair and hold him close to your chest.

Nothing else matters. It’s just the two of you in this little mansion in the middle of the forest, the only ones who matter in this world. No heroes, no villains, no secrets, no lies. Just you and Touya, and for now that’s all you need.

Even if he never says those three simple words back to you.

“Touya—” But then he’s kissing you again, and you’re giggling uncontrollably against his mouth.

I’ve got you. I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll patch up your wounds, and I’ll—

“Hey, stop! That tickles!” But he keeps on nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Touya, come on, you’re—”

That’s when you feel it, hard and insistent, pressing against your inner thigh. He only smirks and licks his lips.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Mm, I’ve been called worse, doll.” He slides a hand down to your hips, caressing the bandages, the burn marks seared into your skin. “Promise I’ll be gentle.” He kisses you again, slowly this time, as he trails his hand down just a bit lower.

It’s not perfect, the relationship you have (if it can even be called that). There’s tears, blood, burns, nightmares, and you know it’ll only get worse from here on out. What Touya’s decided to do with his life, and how he plans to leave his mark on the world—it still leaves your stomach rolling and your throat burning with tears. But beneath all the words and scars and flames, you know he’s hurting inside. And you’ll be damned if you let him suffer through this ordeal all alone.

You’re in love with him—everything that makes him the man he is. No matter how much he’s hurting, how often he thinks of himself as a failure. You’re determined to give him everything you have, in hopes one day he’ll do the same for you. To wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest and press a thousand kisses against his skin. To let him know he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

That you’re here for him; that you’ll stay with him, no matter what may happen in the future.

So that’s why you only laugh as he lays you back down across his chest, his fingers weaving through your hair, careful not to get any of it caught on the staples of his palms. There’ll be another time for conversations like those. For now you can lose yourselves in each other, hand in hand, with the warm glow of the blue flames casting over you.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi smut #touya todoroki smut #mha fics #smut #sweets and treats

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thatsdemko · 2 years ago

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hate me - m.mount

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: mason mount x pulisic!fem!reader

warning: nsfw + not intended for minors + swear words + mentions of alcohol + me calling football soccer (see above pairings) + mason being a dick + me not knowing anything about video games

a/n: I kinda want to do a part two to this so please let me know if you’d be interested! feedback is always appreciated xx

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

you’ve never been close to your brothers teammates, sure they followed you on social media platforms and you kept up with their lives, but it wasn’t like you formed a bond with any of them because you weren’t across the world hanging out with them.

one of them had caught your eye, mason mount. the soccer player every girl on social media seemed to have a crush on during the World Cup, and you couldn’t blame them. he was by far your brothers most attractive teammate, but despite his good looks he was actually an asshole to you.

to put things into perspective, that evening you were far beyond wasted and you may have tumbled into him, but that didn’t give him a right to yell at you for your behavior. you vaguely could recall that night the next morning, but seeing he was in your brothers apartment you began to remember it all too well.

he’s not a dick to the media. in fact, he puts on the best show always being kind to fans, opposing team members, etc. but when it came to you? he just didn’t have it in him to play nice.

“my sister comes in today,” christian announced to the team when he entered the locker room, his eyes fall to the particular Brit, who you had ranted to your brother about, “don’t be an asshole.” he says it to the team, but again his eyes fall to Mason.

“why would we? y/n is so nice! how long is she here for?” Ben begins to ask questions while Mason scowls in his seat. to be fair, he didn’t hate you but you had no care in the world and always acted above everyone else. it bothered him how Christian was so grounded and kind, and you couldn’t have been more of the opposite.

“you hear what I said?” Christian comes over to Mason now, he’s got that worried overprotective brother look on his face that he’s seen before. it wasn’t a pleasant sight to be on the receiving end of, “yeah copy that, I’ll be nice.”

—

it’s not been a day since your arrival and Mason was already in your presence. it’s not his fault, he’s your brothers good friend and teammate, plus they play video games together with Ben so you expected to see him over. you just didn’t assume it would be so soon.

“y/n! oh it’s so nice to see you again.” Ben wraps you in a hug the minute you enter the living space your brother and his teammates are in. you’re happy at least one of them likes you, the other is sitting there phone in hand pretending you aren’t there.

“same to you, chilly.” you pull away taking a spot in one of the chairs deciding to watch the boys play their game. when Mason finally looks over you send him a wave in which he doesn’t return, but his eyebrows lift upward as a way of acknowledging your presence.

“did you want to play?” christian points to the fourth remote he pulled out just in case, he knew your answer but he couldn’t help but be nice and offer.

“no, I’ll just watch. I know how mason is about his games.” you pull your knees into your chest watching the Chelsea player roll his eyes at your comment.

“for the record, I don’t care if you play it’s just the objective wasn’t to kill your teammate.” he recalls the game you played the last time you were in London. it had randomly selected you and Mason to be teammates, your first time playing you accidentally shot Mason and that sent him over the edge. you tried to apologize, but he wanted to hear nothing of it and asked Christian to switch controllers with him.

“and for the record, I didn’t know it was you that I had shot.” you snap back. you could feel Christian’s eyes narrow at you, he gave you the same speech he gave his teammates. he wanted you all to get along, and even if that meant casual smiles and light conversations, he didn’t want this.

“hey, it was her first time relax, mate.” Ben stands up for you handing his controller into your lap, “you should play, I’ll coach you.” he moves to sit on the floor beside your chair and you take the controller in your hands.

Christian gives you one final look to confirm, you just nod, “okay so you’re going to kill the guys in grey, Christian and Mason are on your team and they will have a name above their head so you know it’s them. don’t shoot them.”

Mason scoffs beside Christian earning your brothers elbow to jab in the rib cage, “be nice, mase.” your brother hisses.

Mason glances over, he sees Ben is hovering over you now pointing to the keys you need to press. he doesn’t know why, but he feels some sort of rage—jealousy to be particular. he hates how happy he’s making you.

if things were different and Mason wasn’t already programmed to hate you, he would’ve loved to have been the one showing you how to play. maybe you bring in his lap and his arms around you, guiding your thumbs to press certain buttons. but ever since that night, he can’t shake his true feelings.

—

“thanks for letting me play, chilly. you’re a great teacher.” you give him one final hug at the door before he’s out. he promised his girlfriend he’d be home for dinner, so he couldn’t stay too long.

“please you’re my best student.” he winks just before you close the door and lock it behind him. when you turn around you can see masons body is in the kitchen. it’s just you two since Christian went to pick up food twenty minutes ago, and he promised he’d be back soon.

“looks like it’s just us.” you say quietly entering the kitchen to grab yourself a beer, you held one up for him which he declines. you notice he’s awfully quiet and you can’t help but wonder if it’s because you decided to join them.

“sorry about today, I didn’t mean to intrude.” you move around the kitchen island and take a seat, and he takes the one two seats away from yours.

“no need to apologize.” he responds, it’s short and there’s edge to it. you can feel that’s not true but you’re not going to test him, you drop it and begin to play with the cap of the beer bottle.

“you did play well today.” he finally says, eyes glancing over at you for a second before you look over. he’s not sure why but he feels if he looks at you it’ll change how he feels. he wants to keep it that way, he feels like hating you might be better than allowing himself to like you.

“and I didn’t kill you.” you crack a smile hoping he returns it, but it’s obvious he doesn’t care for it. you hate how little he pays attention or care, it makes him seem so arrogant.

“we’ve got two months left, let’s see how that goes.” he scoffs, and watches you get up from your seat and move around the island. he knows he did something wrong, because you always storm off when he makes you upset. lucky for him, Christian isn’t there to make amends or force him to apologize.

“why do you always have to be such a dick? I’m trying to be nice and then you always have to come back with a snarky comment.” you want to splash his face with the alcohol. it wouldn’t make you feel better, but it might make him act different.

“at least I can handle people hating me and don’t need to call on big brother to rescue me.” he snaps and that stung. you’ve never asked Christian to step in and “rescue” you from anything. you could handle your own.

“I don’t know what Christian has told you but I’m a big girl.” you cross your arms over your chest and see a smile spread into smirk as he moves across the island stopping in front of you.

“you are now? you don’t act like it.” he leans closer to you, his lips looking irresistible but god you hated everything that came from them.

you’re fidgeting unsure how to respond, his finger tips grab a hold of your chin, thumb swiping across your bottom lip, “you’re such a child, y/n.” he teases watching your eyes grow glossy and big, he can tell you’re scared as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“no I’m not.” you whisper feeling your body gravitate to closing the gap, “I told you I’m a big girl.”

he bends down lips pressing against yours. he’s firm as he begins to kiss you, tongue swiftly moving into your mouth you feel his hands grab your ass pulling you against him. you can feel how hard he is in his pants, it makes you feel dizzy.

his hands are picking you up by the waist and carrying you into the guest bedroom, his foot swiftly shuts the door behind him before he throws you onto the soft mattress, “then someone like you should be able take it, can she?”

you nod, his fingers are pulling at the material of your pants, you feel warmth spread between your legs watching his own pants fly off revealing just how big he is, you swallow hard at the sight.

“you can handle it.” he presses his body against yours, hand over your mouth to muffle your moan. christian could be back any minute and the last thing you want is to get caught.

he’s entering you, and you’re trying to gasp for air, but his hand blocks it. you feel dizzy but everything he’s giving you so far feels so good. his finger tips are dug into your skin while your nails rake his back as he’s pushing further into you. it feels good, but it’s a surprise how far he is.

his strokes aren’t sporadic, rather even and deep, you can tell his tip nudged your clit when a sensation of pleasure and a moan that not even his hand could cover escaped your mouth.

“quiet.” he hisses and you nod. you feel your body reaching climax, but you’re smart enough to know he’ll make you beg and wait until you can come. if he hates you as much as his words he will take every opportunity to make you wait.

“Mason, please.” you beg, your hand has a hold of his wrist trying to remind him to let go you need to breathe, and he knows that. his hand slips down to your throat gently, thumb pressed against your vocal cord.

“what do you want? ask for it.” he nudges your clit one more time hearing you moan his name. he loves hearing it from you, it turns him on even more than he could imagine.

“let me come?” you’re on the verge of letting your body just do it, but when your eyes meet his you swallow back the feeling trying to keep it in longer. he’s just too good for you, you want to show him.

“only because you asked.” your body relaxes feeling the warmth exit against your thighs and he’s there to clean you up.

“when we get back out there, you go back to being that bratty little girl. if you’re good, you’ll get more.” he presses a rewarding kiss against your temple before he puts his clothes back on.

you just lay there against your mattress, before he slips out, and reality settles back in, you make sure to remind him how you feel, “god, I hate you.”

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demigodsanswer · 20 days ago

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youtube

(An AU of an AU -- how Annabeth's life could have gone differently if there were just a few changes)

In the middle of September, Annabeth missed pas de deux class .

Percy and Annabeth had danced together for the first three weeks of the year, practicing until her weight and balance were completely familiar to him.

Annabeth was the best one in their class without a doubt. During the final workshop performance at the end of last term, she’d been cast as the Russian Girl in Serenade. She’d done such an amazing job that everyone thought she might be pulled into the company at fifteen. But Chiron had asked her to come back this year.

And Percy was glad he did. He finally got to dance with her. She was so strong, and so smart; she really helped Percy improve his partnering work.

Before dancing with her, Percy thought she was as serious as she was pretty, which is to say … very. But Percy was sure he could make her laugh.

He spotted Pride and Prejudice in her dance bag.

“English class?” He asked, pointing to it. “Or just for fun?”

“English class, but I know the story. My dad showed me the BBC version when I was little, and it was my favorite,” she said, her eyes wide and sparkling, the same way they looked when she danced.

“You’re a bit old fashioned, then?” Percy asked.

She shrugged. “Maybe a little, but besides the ballet and the Jane Austin, not really. I like having basic human rights, and stuff.”

“My last girlfriend left me because she said I was too old fashioned,” Annabeth raised an eyebrow. Percy said the next part of his joke with a phooey British accent, somewhere between Lady Diana and Burt from Mary Poppins. “But I bet you one shilling she returns by nightfall.”

Annabeth blurted out a laugh that got some heads to turn their way. She covered her mouth with her hands, but kept giggling behind them.

“Oh, I don’t know what was worse, the joke or your accent,” she said.

“Made you laugh, though,” Percy said with a smug smile.

“Where did you hear that joke?” She asked.

“My step-dad. He and my mom just had a baby, so, as step-son I’ve become his unwilling dad joke test subject,” Percy explained. “Got to find the good ones before she can form memories.”

Annabeth gave him a look of obviously faux-annoyance. “Well, and now you’ve gone and roped me into it.”

“Sorry,” Percy said, “is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Annabeth thought for a minute and then said, “Just tell your stepdad that the old fashioned joke is very funny.”

“Oh, don’t encourage him,” Percy said. Annabeth laughed again, and Percy realized he’d do just about anything to keep making her laugh.

That had been two weeks ago. He’d made her laugh maybe half a dozen times since then, no thanks to Paul’s other dad jokes. He was pretty sure they were actually friends.

Still, he tried to push any thoughts of a crush on her out of his mind; he didn’t have time for that, and she’d never be interested in him.

But he couldn’t help but look forward to every pas class.

“Percy, you’ll be with Rachel today,” the teacher told him. Rachel walked over to him.

“Where’s Annabeth?” He asked after class.

"She crunched her foot during petit allegro this morning," Rachel said.

"She's out?" Percy asked.

"Probably. Something tore. You could hear it across the room."

Percy shivered at the thought. He hoped she was okay.

The next day, Annabeth was sitting at the back of the class, her foot in a boot. Being injured didn't give you an excuse to miss class. You still needed to sit there and watch. Percy had a minor foot injury last year that kept him out for three weeks. It had been hell. And he could see it on Annabeth's face: she wasn't happy.

After class, Percy snuck to the back of the room.

"Hey," he said to her, picking up her bag as she maneuvered her crutches, "how are you doing?"

She shrugged. "Tore some ligaments," was her only answer. They headed out the door, her bag over Percy’s shoulder as they headed to her next class.

"How long do they think ..." Percy started.

"Over a month at least,” he could hear the sadness in her voice, “but they don't think it needs surgery," she said.

"That's good!" He said, trying to make his voice sound cheery so she might look on the bright side with him.

"Yeah," she agreed half-heartedly as they hobbled to their next class.

Annabeth was still stuck in her chair a month later. Percy had started texting her a new dad joke every day, and while only 20% made her laugh, 100% of them made her smile. She was worried he’d stop talking to her once they weren’t dancing, but she’d summoned her courage to give him her number once she was injured, hoping that he might text her.

He had, almost right away. Her heart fluttered every time he messaged her, and it almost made her forget about her stupid ankle.

PERCY:

orion's belt is a huge waist of space

get it? like a waist?

ANNABETH

It's not a great joke.

I'll give it three stars

She was doing her best to pay attention in class, but being confined to a chair made her ADHD act up. She could pick up choreography and technique quickly when she was on her feet. But being on her feet was prohibited right now.

And then, Chiron rolled into class and sat next to her. Annabeth's heart raced. He was always around the school, scoping out new apprentices, but she hadn't spent much time with him one-on-one. She tried to be casual, mature, and professional.

"How long have you been out?" He asked her after a minute of silence.

"A month," Annabeth said.

She could see the frustrated disappointment clear on Chiron's face.

"Well you rest up, okay?" He said. That was all he said to her. He sat and watched for a few more minutes, before leaving without another word to her or anyone else..

The next day, word went around that four girls and one boy had been taken into the company for Nutcracker. Annabeth wasn’t one of them.

There was a spot at the top of a stairwell that purported to have roof access, but that door was always locked. So someone could sit at the top of the stairs on the landing by the door to the roof, and cry without anyone ever finding them. It was one of Annabeth's favorite spots.

Annabeth struggled up the stairs, grateful to finally sit down and sob when she reached the top. Chiron wanted to put her in the company, that's why he was interested in her injury. And she missed it. All because of her stupid, stupid ankle.

She heard the door to the stairwell open, and she tried to quiet her crying while whoever it was made their way down the stairs. But the footsteps were coming up. She wiped her eyes, but she knew it was hopeless. If someone found her, there'd be no excuse for what she'd been doing except I was crying my eyes out and throwing a pity party.

A familiar mop of black hair came up the stairs, and Annabeth felt herself relax. Percy was nice, so much nicer than most of the boys she knew. When he said: "Annabeth? Are you alright?" She knew he really cared about the answer. And when she shook her head and started to cry again, he just sat next to her on the stairs and gave her a hug.

When Annabeth was starting to feel all cried out, she pulled back.

"Thanks," she said, "I'm sorry, it's just," she gestured at her ankle.

"That's gotta be tough," he said.

"I think Chiron wanted me for Nutcracker, but I can't do it," she said, tears starting again.

"It's alright," he said, taking her hand. "You're going to have so many Nutcrackers in your life."

"But what if I missed my chance completely?" She asked.

"I doubt it. You're the best dancer here," Percy said.

Annabeth smiled. "Thanks."

"Want to get pizza or something? I'm starving."

Annabeth rarely got to eat pizza. Especially now that she was injured, she shouldn’t eat something so fattening when she couldn’t work it off. But she was pretty sure Percy was asking her out on a date. And so, before she could count calories or anything she just nodded.

"Sure."

Percy bought her a few slices of pizza, and they both reveled in the chance to indulge like regular teenagers. Percy peeled back the paper from his straw, leaving most of the wrapper still on the other end. He put the straw to his mouth and blew, sending the paper sleeve right for Annabeth's face.

It landed in her blonde curls, and she laughed in disbelief. "Oh, it's on," she said, picking up her own straw. She managed to nail Percy right in the eye.

"Alright, uncle, uncle, you win," Percy conceded.

They talked for two hours, long past when their pizza was gone, and long enough for the guy behind the counter to give them the stink eye. Percy just gave it right back.

“Wow, Virginia? How come you don’t have a Southern accent?” Percy asked.

“My dad is from Boston, and Richmond is pretty urban. Most people don’t actually have that classic Southern accent where I’m from,” Annabeth explained. And then, she put on her Southern accent. “But my dance teacher was from Alabama, so I can pretend.” The accent made Percy smile, so she kept it up. “This was how I learned ballet. Tombe pas de bourree, and Roll Tide!” Percy laughed. The French sounded ridiculous in the accent. “I had no idea what steps people were talking about when I got here,” Annabeth joked. It wasn’t true. Mostly.

“It’s better than my British accent,” Percy said.

“Well, that’s a really low bar,” Annabeth said.

“I’ll have to watch that fancy Pride and Prejudice show and take notes,” he said.

“Or count your blessings that you’re in a career where no one has to hear you speak,” she said back.

“Hey!” He protested with a smile. “I’m stealing your crust for that,” he said, reaching towards her plate. She let him take it, but not without a fight.

When they were done, he walked her back to her dorm. "Where's yours?" Annabeth asked.

"Oh, I'm from New York, I live a few blocks away with my family," he said.

"That's nice," she said.

"Is your family still in Virginia?" He asked. Annabeth looked sad again.

"For now. But they're moving to San Francisco over Winter break. They're so busy doing that that I'm not even going home. Kind of hoped I might have Nutcrackers to do, but ..."

"I'm sorry," Percy said, before pulling her into a hug.

Annabeth let her crutches drop to the ground as she wrapped her arms around him. He was warm. When they pulled away, Percy picked up her crutches for her.

"It's okay, I'll just go see Nutcracker one hundred times," she tried to joke, "and will my foot to heal."

"I believe in you," Percy said.

When Percy got home, he asked his mom about inviting a friend for Christmas.

"Would he stay over?" Sally asked.

"She," Percy clarified, "it’s Annabeth."

His mom looked surprised. He was sure he’d talked about Annabeth before. Or maybe that was the surprise, that his crush was coming to Christmas.

"Oh, would she stay over?"

"I don't know. She lives in the dorms. I don't know what kind of rules they have," Percy said, trying to be chill.

"Well, the more the merrier. She's always welcome, just let me know," Sally said. “She’d have to stay on the air mattress in the living room,” Sally added.

“No worries,” Percy said. Sure, he was horny pretty much all the time like any other sixteen year old, but the idea of Annabeth staying in his room made his palms sweat in a bad way.

Percy went back to his room and gave Annabeth a call. All of their text conversations had mostly been dad jokes, so calling her out of the blue was strange.

" Percy?" He heard her voice on the other end. " What's up?"

"Hey, I hope this isn't weird. And you don't need to say yes or anything, but you mentioned staying in New York for Christmas. Would you ... want to spend it with my family? Instead of being stuck in the dorms?" He said.

"... Really?" She sounded hopeful.

"Yeah, my mom said you're totally welcome. You could stay over on Christmas Eve if you're allowed to. Or my step-dad can pick you up. Whatever," he said, trying to sound casual about it.

" Percy that really means so much to me," she sounded like she was going to cry again. " I would love to. "

Percy waited for a "but," but there wasn't one. Percy strutted out into the living room and announced that Annabeth was coming for Christmas.

Pizza might have been a date. But taking her to the MoMA to see Starry Night had definitely been a date. The MoMA was free Friday afternoons, so it was perfect for two sixteen year olds, but Percy had paid for their subway ride, and his mom gave him $40 to buy something warm to eat.

Annabeth was still in her boot, but she was able to actually put weight on her foot now, so she could go around without crutches. Even booted up, she’d kept up with Percy, overtaking him at some points. She pointed out famous paintings and rattled off facts about them. And then she kept going, giving him facts about the building itself, the area, and Rockefeller Center. Percy just listened; his ADHD usually didn’t let him focus for that long, but when Annabeth talked, he wanted to listen.

Her gray eyes went so wide when she saw Starry Night, and Percy wasn’t afraid to push them both through the crowd of tourists to get to the front. She took out her phone -- a fancy iPhone -- and snapped a picture, while Percy took out his phone -- not a Smart Phone -- and took a picture of her.

“Did you take a picture of me?” She asked as they moved out of the way.

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly. “You’re …” really pretty, he almost said. “You look really happy.”

She nodded. “I am,” she promised.

"That was so cool!" She said as they stepped out into the cold New York winter. There was a week left before break. Annabeth's dad had sent her presents to Percy's house, and Sally had even bought her Christmas pajamas to open on Christmas Eve with everyone else so she would match the family.

"Want to go see the tree?" Percy asked.

"The native New Yorker is willing to brave the tourists for me?" Annabeth asked. Percy shrugged; he'd maybe complained about tourists a little too much.

"Yeah," he said, stepping in front of her. "Hop on?"

She followed his lead and jumped on his back. He carried her the whole five minute walk to the tree.

Percy was nervous about something, she could tell. When they got to Rockefeller Center he kept leaning in, then pulling away, grabbing her hand, and then letting it go. Annabeth had a strong suspicion about what he was trying to get the courage to do.

"What's up?" She asked finally. Percy had pulled her to a less crowded spot. It didn't have a great view of the tree, but its rainbow lights were still visible behind him.

Percy ran a hand through his hair, making his dark mop all the messier. Annabeth’s heart raced.

"I ... uh …” he started, trying not to look at her, “brought you over here to kiss you, and --"

Annabeth didn't let him finish before she leaned in and kissed him first. It was mostly just a peck, but she let it linger for a few seconds. She didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. She’d never kissed anyone before. She hoped it had been okay. When she pulled back they were both smiling like fools.

Percy had never kissed anyone before, but he was pretty sure that was perfect.

Annabeth started back at barre after Christmas break. She still had a few weeks of PT and retraining before she would be back in her pointe shoes, but she was determined not to let her chance in the company pass her by again.

Christmas break had been completely perfect, and had included way more kisses from Percy. They were really going out now. She’d taken him to the movies over break, and back at his apartment, he’d made her cookies and hot chocolate. In between ballet classes, they were attached at the hip.

But in class, Annabeth worked with a fierce determination, drinking in every word from her coaches, and trying to prove that she wasn’t going to just give up.

After a few days in class, her ballet masters pulled her aside. Annabeth's heart raced, worried about whatever bad news they were about to give her.

"We want you to know," they started, "at the end of the year, you are going to get your apprenticeship."

Annabeth's eyes went wide, and her heart beat fast the way it did when Percy kissed her. It had to be a dream, she thought. That wasn't how they gave out apprenticeships in her experience. Students were told at the end of the year, usually all at once. Her heart beat faster as they continued. "Don't tell anyone, but Chiron wants you to know that he is taking you. So just ..." the ballet master gestured down towards her foot, "take it easy. Don't hurt yourself."

Annabeth nodded. "Can I tell my dad?" She asked.

The ballet master smiled. "Yes, of course."

Annabeth asked her roommates for some time alone so she could call her dad. They agreed; Annabeth hardly ever called home. They must have thought something terrible had happened.

“ Annie ?” Her dad said. “ Is everything okay? ”

“Yes Daddy,” she promised. And then she choked up. “I --”

“ Is it your boyfriend? Are you okay?”

“It’s not Percy,” she promised. Percy had only ever made her cry from laughing. “I got news from Chiron Bruner today,” she said. “He’s going to give me my apprenticeship,” she said, her smile wide, but her voice low in case her roommates were listening at the door.

“ Really? Annie! That’s wonderful! Are you starting right away?” He asked.

“No, no. They aren’t making it official until the end of the year. He just wanted me to know so that I didn’t hurt my ankle more,” she said.

“ He must really want you in the company, then ,” her dad said.

“I guess so,” she confirmed.

“ You let me know when your first performance is, sweetheart, and I’ll be there,” he promised.

“Are you sure?” She asked. “I know it’s a long way from San Francisco.”

“ Nothing is too far for my favorite girl, ” he said.

“I’m your only girl,” she reminded him.

“Still my favorite, ” he promised. “ I love you Annie. Get some good rest, okay?”

“Love you too, Daddy. I’ll … I’ll call you soon?” She offered. Percy had been encouraging her to reach out to her dad a little more. She’d been trying. Every time they talked, it got a little easier. He only answered the phone with what’s wrong about half the time. And saying “I love you” to him felt more normal than it had in years.

“ I’d love that. Any time, sweetie .”

“Bye.”

“ Bye bye. ”

Annabeth made it two weeks before she told Percy. "You can't tell anyone," she said.

He was hugging her so tight. "I won't, I promise! But once it's official, I'm going to tell everyone in New York."

"Goofball," she said.

"And proud of it!” He let her go, and crawled out onto his fire escape. “My girlfriend is gonna be in the New York City Ballet," he yelled into the air. Annabeth just laughed. So much for waiting until it was official. Not like anyone in New York cared though.

A moment later, his door opened. Sally was there, wide eyed. “What did he say?”

So, she’d told a few more people than she was supposed to. But her secret was as safe with the Jackson-Blofis family as it was with the Chase family, she was sure of it.

When Sally learned Annabeth would have to move out of the SAB dorms and into an apartment of her own, she asked: "Will you have a roommate? Another apprentice girl?"

Annabeth shook her head. "My dad is looking for a studio for me, close to the theater."

"You can't live alone in New York at your age," Sally said.

"I'll be alright," Annabeth promised.

Sally took her hand. "Let me talk to your dad, okay?"

"Sure," Annabeth said, giving Sally his phone number. Annabeth snuck into Percy's room while Sally called her dad. Percy loaded up Mario Kart, she got ready to kick his ass.

Sally was on the phone for a long time, nearly an hour. Finally, there was a knock on Percy's door, a quick come in confirmation, and then Sally was handing Annabeth the phone. Percy paused the game, and she could hear her dad's voice on the other end, still saying things like " I really appreciate it, thank you."

"Hi Daddy," she said.

" Annie ! I talked to Ms. Jackson, she's so nice. She's your boyfriend's mom?"

"Yeah," Annabeth said.

" We agree that you living alone is risky. She's offered to let you stay at her place."

Annabeth looked at Percy, who had his ear close to the phone to hear. "Really?" Annabeth said, excitedly grabbing Percy's knee.

" They are your host family. So you'll have to live there even if you and Percy break up, okay?” Annabeth looked at Percy as if to say like that would happen. “You won't be in your boyfriend's room either. And there will be rules."

"Okay, okay," Annabeth said.

" But I think this is for the best, if you're comfortable with it."

"I am," she promised.

Annabeth's contract didn't start until the Fall, but she moved out of the dorm at the end of the year. She and Percy were doing the SAB summer program together, and in between, they were helping Sally and Paul rearrange the apartment. Annabeth was staying with Estelle, Percy's adorable two-year-old sister, but that meant Percy had to give up his bigger room for Estelle and Annabeth to share. There was a lot of stuff to move.

Fall season was already a dream. Annabeth lived for performing, far preferring long rehearsal days to days in class at SAB. She was in the corps of so many great ballets, and Chiron even had her learning soloist roles as a backup already. Two weeks in and she was giddy.

Her dad had come down for the first week of performances. She had been in the corps of Serenade, one of her favorite ballets, and in the corps of “Emeralds” and “Diamonds” in Jewels. (“Those are some of my favorite ballets,” Percy said, as if Annabeth didn’t know. She was excited to be in them in part because of Percy).

Percy had managed to charm her dad. He was a perfect gentleman, a little goofy, but just enough to make Annabeth laugh without being over the top.

“It was great to meet you Percy,” her dad said, as he left for the night. He’d be flying back in the morning.

“Great to meet you too, Dr. Chase.”

“Keep Annabeth out of trouble,” her dad said.

“I’m doing my best,” Percy promised.

New York City Ballet had a huge repertory, so there was always something new to learn. They were rehearsing Walpurgisnacht now, a ballet with two dozen women and one man.

"Are you one of our new apprentices?" A blonde man asked her one day. He was the lead in Walpurgisnacht, she realized.

"I am," she said. "Annabeth," she held out her hand.

"Luke," he said. After rehearsal, he introduced her to a few people, and gave her his phone number in case she ever needed anything.

When she texted him to make sure he had her number in return, he rested a hand on her shoulder. "You're doing a great job," he said. The leotard she was wearing had spaghetti straps, so his hand was against her bare skin, and his thumb rubbed gentle circles on her collarbone.

Annabeth pulled away, a little warry. "Thanks," she said. "But I should go. I have Stars and Stripes. " Luke gave her a mock salute, and Annabeth took off down the hall. That was odd.

When Annabeth got home, she and Percy did a second shift of ballet. He told her the things she'd missed in class. She'd never made it to the highest level at SAB, where he was now, so there were still things she had to figure out on her own. But he was able to help her. And she told him things she'd learned in company rehearsals. There were so many little details, tips and tricks they didn't get in the classroom.

Annabeth had watched the Walpurgisnacht pas de deux so many times that day that she and Percy were able to piece together the choreography themselves, practicing in the small ballet studio Paul and Sally had made for Percy (and now Annabeth) in the living room.

On the kitchen table, Annabeth's phone kept buzzing.

"Sweetheart," Sally called, "someone really wants your attention."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Ugh, it's just some guy from the company. He keeps trying to talk to me. I told him I have a boyfriend," she said. Percy kissed the side of her head.

"A company guy?" Sally asked. "Another apprentice?"

Annabeth shook her head. "No, he's a principal. He just got promoted."

"A principal, " Sally asked, horror clear in her voice. "What does he want from you?"

"Who knows," Annabeth shrugged.

Sally handed her the phone. "You don't need to show me, but ... could I see what he's sending you?"

Sally seemed genuinely concerned, so Annabeth unlocked the phone and handed it to her. "You should stay away from him," Sally told her.

"Trust me, I'm trying," Annabeth said.

"If he's making you uncomfortable, you should tell Chiron, or one of the ballet masters," Percy suggested.

Annabeth nodded. "That's a good idea."

Sally was typing something. She handed the phone back to Annabeth before she hit send: This is Annabeth's guardian in New York. She is seventeen . Please leave her alone.

Annabeth hit send. Luke didn't bother her any more after that.

An apprentice's first Nutcracker was meant to be 46 shoes of Snow and Flowers. And Annabeth was ready to do that, even though it meant she’d be dancing on her and Percy’s first anniversary.

But, a few weeks into rehearsal, Chase started to show up in Dew Drop and Sugar Plum rehearsal spaces.

"What does that mean?" She asked Charles Beckendorf. He had a few months on her in the company; he was pulled in last Nutcracker season while she was injured. Chiron had rehearsed them as partners in a few things in the Fall. They never did any of them on stage, but she liked him. He was nice, and they were solid dance partners.

"It means you're learning some Principal roles," he said with a smile.

"Oh my god," Annabeth said.

It was one thing to be a back up during the season when plenty of Principals and Soloists were around. Nutcracker was another thing entirely. It was all hands on deck, and dancers dropped like flies.

She didn't need to learn the choreography. She'd watched the PBS recording of Nutcracker so many times in her life she could dance it in her sleep. And Lee Fletcher was a really experienced partner. ("And how old is this one?" Sally asked. "Twenty-nine, but he's gay, and just really nice, I think.")

They hadn't rehearsed it much. Annabeth didn't expect to actually go on, but --

"Annabeth we need you for Sugarplum tomorrow afternoon," Chiron said. She was still in the big Flower skirt, having just bowed after the night's show.

"What?!" Annabeth said.

"Head to costumes first thing tomorrow morning to get situated. You'll have one more rehearsal with Lee, and then go on at two," he said. "You're going to be fine," he promised. She could see his total trust in her written on his face. Annabeth nodded. She had this.

Chiron was able to find four extra tickets for that show, totally comped so the Jackson-Blofis family could be there, even little Estelle. It would be her first Nutcracker. Annabeth was determined to make it a good show for Stella. A girl’s first Nutcracker was a special thing.

Annabeth swore she could hear Percy's cheers the loudest when she stepped out in the pink costume.

"If you forget the steps, just make it up," Lee said, comforting her before she took to the stage. "If you forget them in the pas, make it up, and I'll follow you."

But she hadn't forgotten it. She'd been just about perfect. Every muscle in her body knew exactly what to do without thinking about it. The cheers were loud from the audience after her variation, and when she stepped back into the wings, there were congratulations from the other dancers, the stage hands, and the ballet masters.

Her pas de deux went just about perfect too. Lee was a completely reliable partner. He was good at anticipating her needs, and he knew the ballet inside and out after eleven years of doing it. Even as her lungs burned and her legs ached to get through the coda, Annabeth couldn’t help but smile. Something told her it wouldn’t be her last Sugar Plum or even her last Principal role.

"Amazing, my dear," Chiron said to her when it was over. "Can you bring the costume back downstairs? We need you on for Snow and Flowers tonight." Annabeth smiled and nodded.

She didn't get home until eleven. Paul picked her up from the theater and gave her a big hug. "We're so proud of you. Don't tell anyone, but I got a video of it. I sent it to your dad. He's devastated he couldn't be here."

"I'll call him tomorrow," Annabeth promised. "Thanks Paul."

There was a short, quiet celebration. Sally and Paul promised something bigger once Nutcracker season was actually over. Annabeth just smiled the whole time.

Annabeth was feeling a little brave. She had too much energy to go to sleep, and she’d hardly gotten to see Percy at all this past month. She missed him.

Once everyone was asleep, she snuck out of her room and into Percy's. He was still awake too. She wasn't exactly sure what she was planning. They'd done plenty of stuff before, but never ... but she knew Sally kept condoms in his drawer. And Annabeth had started birth control that Fall to keep her periods light and regular now that she was a professional. The two of them had talked about this step a lot, but they hadn’t planned when it would happen. With their schedules, and sharing a space with his whole family, finding time was basically impossible. She didn’t know why they hadn’t considered just waiting until everyone was asleep.

It didn't last long. But it didn't hurt either. She didn't bleed -- weren't you supposed to bleed? she thought. It felt right . They whispered “I love you,” over and over, until it became a refrain and the words stopped sounding real. When it was over, they were both so tired, especially her, that all they could manage was to fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

Sally caught her leaving his room early the next morning, but she didn't say anything about Annabeth breaking her rules. Sally just rolled her eyes and smiled.

In the Winter, Annabeth and Beckendorf were cast to do the Romeo and Juliet Balcony Scene. First cast. Annabeth beamed, even as other company girls gave her the stink eye. But they couldn't deny that her reviews were immaculate.

“You two are the perfect Romeo and Juliet,” he told them when the run was over. “Keep it up, and we might just need to stage a full run,” he said. “You know, I’ve always wanted to choreograph my own version …” and then he wheeled off, leaving Annabeth and Beckendorf to stare at each other and wonder: is he going to choreograph something for us?

In the Spring, Chiron called Percy in for his annual meeting. Percy sat nervously, but Chiron and his ballet masters just gave him some things to work on. They told him his partnering skills had really improved, but still needed some work. Percy didn't tell them he'd improved so much because Annabeth was teaching him choreography at night. They also told him that he could be a little more confident. Use his length more. His jumps were good, but work on hitting fifth when you land. And that was it. No word of auditions or apprenticeships. They asked him to do the Summer course again, but nothing else.

He told Annabeth the conversation beat by beat, still dazed, but she was smiling.

"They didn't tell you to audition anywhere else?" She asked.

"No," he said.

"Did they ask you to do another year at the school?"

"Just the Summer course."

"Percy ..."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

One of these days, he'd learn that his girlfriend was literally never wrong. Four days later, he was one of the group of eight of students, six girls, two boys, to be brought into a studio and told they'd been chosen as apprentices for the New York City Ballet.

As happy as she was for him, Annabeth could help but say "I told you so!" first thing.

#percy jackson and the olympians #percabeth #twice upon a pointe #percy jackson #annabeth chase #Youtube

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quodekash · 1 year ago

Text

HSDFHSDFX I SAW ONE MINOR SPOILER FOR EPISODE 7 AND IM SO EXCITED AAAA

THEYRE ON A DATE THEYRE ON A DATE THEYRE ON A DATE THEYRE ON A DATE HERKDBFHN

so joke isnt the first time he's had romantic interest for a guy?? thats funky

OMG

THEM

I LOVE THEM AND ALSO P L E A S E GIVE ME ANSWERS FOR LAST WEEK BECAUSE IM STILL CONFUSED AND CONCERNED

k i s s

WAIT

OMG

GIUW3EHGTPOIJH4OEIWHTBGOI43HJBEHWTPIOJGBH4P3IOE N

AAAAAAAA

IM LOSING MY MIND

THEY KISSED

THEY KISSED THEY KISSED THEY KISSED AAAGIH4EORSGBD

IM DYING GUYS IM DYING

HEEEEEEEEELP

HSDHFHHAHFHSDFHDFHSHDFDHSFDHSHGHHDSHGHFDHGFDHJGHJHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I need to move on from this scene so I can watch the rest of the episode

ive watched it four times

I just want to keep watching it holy frick they mean so much to me

... I watched it a fifth time

okay I need to watch the rest of this episode

bro this grandma is terrifying

im already scared of old people but this grandma is top notch

im very scared of her

oh, and not only is she terrifying, she's also homophobic

welp

scratch that, I guess she's not a homophobe

at this point they're just joongdunk

thinking about this

HSHDHF HE KEEPS THE SUNFLOWER PILLOW ON HIS BED

they forgot to change the clock but I think its better this way because this means that, in one minute, he was sitting at his desk eating a snack

and then was sitting on the floor and moved his snacks and laptop and papers with him

and then moved the papers and snacks AGAIN so he could lie down

and then fell asleep

all within the same minute

(the quality is terrible but I swear the clock says 2:03 in every single screenshot)

and im telling you, its the biggest adhd mood ever

POKKKKK

HELLO POK

everyone say hello to pok

I love him so much

DUDE

BRO SUDDENLY HAS GAME

im fine.

what are you talking about, you can't go straight to anything mate

grjegskb it's about to happen its about to happen its about to happen

side note: I love zoos shirt a lot

I want that shirt

Y E S

AAAAAAAAAA

damn, zo was hungry

anyway AAAAAANOGERNOSJDLGB

he's such a teenage girl, I love him so so so much

(I say about an adult man)

GERULDJBFG

another side note: I also like joke's shirt

I want both of their shirts please

he's so dumbfounded

and honestly mood

HE'S SUCH A NERD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

HIS CRUSH HAS KISSED HIM TWICE NOW

HIS CRUSH CALLED HIM HIS BOYFRIEND

HE'S LOSING HIS MIND AND WE LOVE HIM FOR IT

that was lovely

im a little scared for next episode bc it looks like creepy stalker guy has moved on to Zo (I think that was the same guy??? it looked like the same guy I think maybe), BUT on the BRIGHT SIDE, WE GOT SO MANY KISSES THIS WEEK

JOKEZO FINALLY KISSED AGAIN, AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, JENGPOK FINALLY KISSED AAAAHEORSGOBREIODFBH

let's just go back to the jengpok kiss one more time

HSDHFHDSJGHF

okay I feel better now

bye bye, until next time :)

#quodekash's unhidden agenda to watch hidden agenda #hidden agenda #hidden agenda series #hidden agenda the series #jokezo #jengpok #pokjeng #zojoke #aouboom #boomaou #aou thanaboon #boom tharatorn #joongdunk #joong archen #dunk natachai

32 notes · View notes

paingoes · 2 months ago

Note

1, 2, 19 for delta and paris and lorelai :)

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

delta

1.) How did you choose their name?

oh finally i get a chance to talk about this. im actually SOOOO proud of these names like not cause they're ingenious or anything i just think they seem so fitting to me. like he looks like his name is delta. and i like how they sound when i say them.

as for how i chose it..... it's just a fun and common living weapon convention to only have a number or code for a name! empire is based on greco-roman traditions so Delta as a part of the greek alphabet seemed fun.

2.) Were they created for the story, or was the story created for them?

destroyer was created for delta :)

this is another thing i was waiting to talk about and im glad i finally have the chance. the original conception for this entire universe is actually centered around delta's GIRLFRIEND. who has not even appeared in the story yet and will likely have pretty minimal involvement when she does.

delta was originally conceived as one of several love interests for this girl. destroyer was literally just his mysterious and tragic backstory. he was a very minor character but one of my favorites and i had a lot of fun writing his backstory and i decided it'd be fun to actually explore it in depth. and here we are! lmfao

19.) Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?

oh this is a good question! he gets migraines a lot, that's permanent. i don't think there's much else surprisingly enough. probably some sleep issues and general symptoms of chronic stress and c-PTSD.

paris

1.) How did you choose their name?

again im super proud of this for no reason i just love how it sounds. he's named after paris of troy. part of that is deliberate coding with the illiad but the other part of it is just that it sounds nice. he's also named after the city because it has reputations for being simultaneously elegant and trashy <3

i also really like how theyre both kind of androgynous/slightly effeminate sounding names. they're both gendered pretty ambiguously imo.

2.) Were they created for the story, or was the story created for them?

paris, on the other hand, was created for the story. i definitely struggled more w him and i think that shows a bit in the earliest parts of destroyer, he was a pretty two-dimensional character who just needed to fulfill the role as "whumper". but i ended up getting very attached to him and i feel like he ended up being kind of a show stealer.

19.) Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?

yeah paris got hit in the chest with an arrow so he has some issues. he gets fatigued a lot quicker than he used to and he has some minor nerve damage. the drugs dont help.

lorelai

1.) How did you choose their name?

lorelaiiiiiii. it just sounds nice right? i wanted her to sound kind of folksy and cute and feminine. i think it was originally inspired by Laura Lee from yellowjackets. i mostly choose names just based off intangible vibes and how they sound when you say them. my brain conjures them up.

2.) Were they created for the story, or was the story created for them?

lorelai was also created for the story! she kinda snuck in there actually, i didn't expect her to become as important as she would be but i thought it'd be interesting for paris to have a crush on and admire someone who's such an unceasingly good person and better than him in every single way. she serves a really important role in destroyer cause she's the only one who will actually call paris out on his shit and the only one who will acknowledge how fucked up delta's situation is. she's the best girl in the world aaaaaaaaghhhhh.

i do worry about her coming across as just a love interest and that's something i want to avoid. but she was conceived as paris's foil so she kind of has to exist in relation to him. at the same time i want her to have her own personality and goals and destiny. so they were both created for destroyer, but crash out was created for them.

19.) Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?

no i think she's pretty healthy! i don't know anything about health but i think her lifestyle of like. rolling in dirt and picking up heavy things and eating a lot of fresh produce puts her on a pretty good path! she does do drugs and smokes cigarettes though lol im sure she has issues w shortness of breath and maybe heart palpitations.

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sabineelectricheart · 10 months ago

Text

Maybe

Summary: In so many possibilities, Megan is sure that she loves Jace, but he does not love her back.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1400

Notes: New year, same low expectations over my love life. Oh, well...

Megan had a crush on Jace Miller.

Maybe it was because of the way he looked.

Not to sound too shallow, but it was the truth. Jace Miller was undoubtedly attractive, he was the quintessential definition of a college hot guy, the sort of fantasy that so many movies seemed to sell. From his long sandy blond hair that always hung curled just above his shoulders, his bright almond eyes, to his relaxed, jockish look. It is not much of an advantage as it is a setback to her, specifically, as it did not help her at all that a bunch of other girls though he was attractive too, but that did not stop her from having a crush on him, either.

Maybe it was because of the way he talked.

The way he talked to other people was definitely something, and she is sure that it must figure in many people’s ranked choice list of reasons, too. His low tenor voice, the relaxed and unimposing ring behind every word when he was talking to other people made the girl smile whenever she could hear it. It always gave her butterflies to the stomach when she could hear it coming from the direction she was going, as if pointing her to the right path.

Maybe it was because of the things he said.

He always seemed to have a lame joke ready at the tip of his tongue, and she could always hear the chorus of laughter following closely behind, in spite of being cringey. He was constantly saying something encouraging to people, which often came to mind whenever one wonders how such an easy-going guy was able to land the position of soccer captain.

Maybe it was because he was kind to everyone, or maybe it was because he stuck up for the little kids that were getting bullied when they did their community outreach last semester. Maybe it was because he smiled at her when she walked by him in the quad. Or just maybe it was because he started talking to her, and her standards are just that low.

That is when Megan realized that she did not have a naïve crush in him anymore, no. She started to actually like Jace Miller.

Maybe it was because of the way he smiled so widely at her when she is talking to him.

The smile she has grown familiar with seeing in those three years since she first met him. The boyish smile that never failed to make her smile right back. The smile that scrunched up his face because he was smiling so wide. The smile that instantly brightened her day.

Maybe it was because of the way they both flirted with each other.

In the beginning, it was nothing more than a few little remarks here and there, exchanged either innocently or mockingly, but then it became more. How he teased her constantly. How he would be buffoonish with her and she would play along with it without breaking character once. How they would both roll their eyes at each other, even when her stomach was full of butterflies. How he would make her blush profusely after he complimented her. How he constantly found reason to compliment her, even if he has to stretch it.

Maybe it was because of the way he treated Megan.

Jace was the type of guy who was nice to people, the sort of gregarious person that is always surrounded by friends who wish them well, but he has always been exceptionally kind to her. Even back in her chaotic first semester, he made sure that she felt nothing but welcomed and comfortable in Sugardale and at their sports program. He always said kind things to her, he always encouraged he, always told her to not be afraid, and that she is beautiful, and she ate it up like it was Thanksgiving dinner.

Maybe it was because of the nickname he would sometimes call her that was just a slightly different version of her name. Maybe it was because he always walked next to her in the hallway after class. Or maybe it was because he always made her feel amazing, like she was one of his priorities.

Megan did not like Jace anymore. She is in love with him.

Maybe it was because all of his little flaws, even if she does not think of them as flaws, properly.

The way he chewed on his nails when he was nervous. That his attention span was shit. That he always smelt of body spray, sweat and burnt jadeleaf. That he had a terrible habit of going around sending nudes to people, and that he was a bit of a manslut. That he does not focus on his schoolwork as he should. Maybe he was a bit of a mess, but not too much to drive her away.

Maybe it was because she could be herself around him.

He did not care how weird she is. Or that he did not mind that she sings at the top of her lungs. In fact, he joins her. Or that he does not give her shit when she tries to improve the plays through math and probability. Or that he noticed how she peeled her own fingers whenever she was anxious and helped her heal the wounds, now that Blair is much too busy in whatever is going on with her life to be a friend.

Maybe it was because he always knew how to cheer her up when she is sad.

How he took her hand and brought her down to the quad to get her favourite snack from the student concession. Or that he would dance around her cramped dorm room with her ahead of exam season, as her beatbox blared in the background. That he hugged her and made all her worries go away, melted away in the warmth that he gives her.

Maybe it was that he encouraged her. That he always apologized first, no matter who was in the wrong. Or that he always had confidence in her, believed she could do anything, and never failed to tell her such. How she missed having someone have her back like that…

Megan is in love with Jace Miller. And Jace Miller? He does not love her back. In fact, he broke her heart.

Maybe it was because she would see him with another girl.

It does not matter who it was or where, he was always with another girl. Making out under the stairs. Writing notes to one across the room. Or even flirting with one. He always had plenty to choose from, and he never restrained himself from tasting it all.

Maybe it was because he referred to her as ‘just a friend’. Whenever another girl asks, whenever a teammate teases them, whenever his mother calls or visits with a care package, he would immediately respond with that, as if a natural impulse, as if there is no possible scenario in which that comes to change.

This is my friend, Megan.

Whenever she got introduced to someone it always the same thing, and her heart still shattered every time she heard it, as if it was news to her. Nevertheless, she is getting better at not letting her smile waver. She has the heartache, already, she just hopes to avoid the humiliation.

Maybe it was because of the way he treated every girl exactly how he treated her.

At first, she thought she was special, that he could not possibly treat other people with the same dedication that he treated her, but then she realized that it was all the same for every other girl he spent time with. He always complimented them, and always told them how great they were. She hoped it was just friendly, but she could tell it was not.

The way he smiled at the girl across the hall. He says he had to use the bathroom and then she would find him sitting next to a girl on the grounds. Or that he stopped knowing how to cheer her up, because he was the reason she is upset, because the fact that he half-tries is what hurts her.

Amongst many propositions and possibilities, what seems sure is that Jace Miller broke her heart, but, unfortunately, Megan could not stop herself from loving him.

*_*_*_*_*

College Craze Masterlist

#college craze #Jace Miller

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kitkatopinions · 2 years ago

Note

You know I gotta ask for Pyrrha lol

Yeah, Pyrrha for the ask game, let's go.

1: sexuality headcanon

I like to headcanon Pyrrha as a biromantic demisexual.

2: otp

Gonna have to say Pyrrha x Weiss for this one, but Pyrrha x Blake is a close second! Pyrrha and Weiss just have great potential as romantic partners, and their first season clips together so easily read as Weiss having a crush on Pyrrha and Pyrrha being like "Oh pretty disaster girl, I can fix you." XD

3: brotp

Pyrrha and Nora! I already talked about them recently, but they could be such close friends!

4: notp

Can I say 'anything involving a Jaune harem?' I don't mind Pyrrha x Jaune on its own if it's done well (in a way that doesn't treat Pyrrha as the prize to be won or Jaune's cheerleader,) but every time I see some Jaune x Pyrrha, Weiss, Blake, Ruby, Neo, Glynda, Willow, Cinder all at the same time any of that... Ugh. That's so embarrassing.

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

I saw a fanart once of Pyrrha and Neptune as kids together living in Argus, and now I love the headcanon that they went to combat school together and actually know each other pretty well. (Of course, in my headcanons, Neptune isn't nearly as sucky. XD) Oh wait, no, I want to talk about Pyrrha's parents! Because the whole monument to Pyrrha seems like something Pyrrha really wouldn't want, I've started headcanoning that her parents were the ones who fought to get that statue made but that they both never really listened to Pyrrha and had kind of pushed her all the time growing up, and were sort of similar to pageant parents. So even though Pyrrha loved them, she also had very complicated feelings towards them, and felt like they didn't know her well, which made her very eager to establish a found family at Beacon (and to latch onto possible mentor/parental figures.)

6: favorite line from this character

"I'll do it. If you believe this will help humanity, then I will become your fall maiden." This line is so good at further establishing what we already know about Pyrrha. She's trusting, she's a follower, she's kind, she's good, she wants to do the right thing because it's the right thing, she doesn't even ask for an explanation because when someone tells her that people need help and this will help, she jumps in with both feet before even thinking through the implications. It's both a sign of some flaws (it's pretty naive to trust people just because they're your teachers and some guy, it's pretty reckless to let people do experiments on you without even asking very many questions,) and proof of her deep goodness and her good intentions. Also I like to think that Pyrrha looked at Amber and felt a connection to her, something drawing her to Amber, and felt like she understood Amber in that moment even though they'd never met, and then her being so willing to take on that power and that responsibility was also for Amber and for her legacy. (Side note, the concept of Amber is slept on both in the show and in the fandom.)

7: one way in which I relate to this character

We both seem to be attracted to disaster people? Lol. But in all seriousness, I feel like I do share some minor similarities to her like her tendency to be protective (I will break his legs) and her over-polite awkwardness and slight passive aggressive tendencies. XD

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

The romance with Jaune. As I said before, I don't mind Arkos in theory. But the way it's done in canon? Gross tbh. They more or less invented Pyrrha for Jaune, made the majority of her story revolve around him, didn't give her real connections with other characters, used her death to prop up his character in a very fridgey way without letting anyone else grieve, and in volume six they gave her a tribute she wouldn't have wanted to remind everyone of how sad Jaune is... And Pyrrha never got any song that wasn't about her feelings for Jaune. Yikes!

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

One of the only cinnamon rolls left in this show! Pyrrha may have her minor flaws, but by and large, she's a good person who tries to treat everyone well (except for Cardin the bigoted asshole bully which is a good thing) and she spent her life trying to help everyone. Rip that Pyrrha never got to connect with Penny because they would've been the ultimate cinnamon roll redhead duo.

#some minor #rwde #canoncrit Jaune Arc

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geekfanficwriter · 2 years ago

Text

Need You Tonight- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The entire town thinks you and Eddie are dating so why aren't the two of you? Based on this request by @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul : Eddie idiots to lovers smut request!! You and Eddie are best friends and have been forever. You and Eddie tease back and forth casually; most people think you are already in a relationship together, but no. You both wish you were, however, because you are both in love with each other. You are at his place smoking, and you decide to serenade and tease him to N.I.B by Black Sabbath. While watching you, Eddie realizes it’s time to make a move; it’s now or never!! Words: 3.1k Warnings: SMUT (18+, minors dni), fingering, p in v sex, slight angst but not much, drug use

You dump the videos on the table in front of Steve who picks them up to check you out.

‘These movies are terrible, you know?’ Steve says as he looks through them.

‘Yeah but they’re great when you're stoned.’ You laugh slightly.

‘You hanging with Eddie tonight then?’

‘Yeah, just the usual.’ You shrug.

‘Well, what are the two of you doing on Saturday?’ Steve asks as he hands the videos over to you.

‘Not much, I don’t think. Eddie’s got band practice but nothing else. Why?’

‘Well I’m going out with this girl and she’s not completely comfortable with going out alone so I said I would make it a double date.’

‘Okay, we can do that but why me and Eddie?’ You ask confused.

‘Because you guys are one of the only couples I know.’ Steve shrugs and you gawk at his words.

‘Couple? Me and Eddie aren’t dating.’ You look at Steve with a frown.

‘Yes you are, everyone in town knows it.’

‘Everyone aside from me and Eddie apparently.’

‘So even though you’re both totally into each other, you’re just friends?’ Steve smirks at you.

‘Eddie doesn’t like me.’ You sigh.

‘He calls you babe, he’s always touching you, he flirts with you. How does he not like you exactly?’ Steve said, rolling his eyes.

‘That’s just him being friendly. He’s my best friend.’ You shrug.

‘Yeah and he acts like that around his other friends?’

‘I’m his best friend, of course, he acts differently around me.’

‘Okay, well just stay in denial.’

‘I will. I’ll see you later.’ You said walking out. As you made your way over to your car you saw Gareth walking towards you.

‘Hey, Gar!’ You yell out.

‘Oh hey, how are you?’

‘I’m good. Umm quick question, you know I’m single, right?’

‘You and Eddie broke up? When did that happen?’ He looked at you shocked.

‘We didn’t break up, we’ve never dated.’

‘Huh, I was sure you guys started dating like 2 years ago.’ Gareth said looking confused.

‘Nope, I think I’d know if we had.’

‘Wow, weird. And to think Jeff wanted to ask you to Homecoming.’ Gareth said, before his eyes widened, realising he probably shouldn’t have told you that.

‘Yeah, I wouldn’t have said yes, anyway. I love Jeff but as a friend.’ That and the massive crush you had on Eddie meant you just couldn’t develop feelings for another guy no matter how hard you tried.

‘Well, I’ve got to run. I’m meeting Eddie.’ You tell Gareth, walking towards your car.

‘Eddie, your not boyfriend?’ Gareth laughs as you unlock your car door.

‘Yes, my not boyfriend. Bye.’ You tell him as you get into your car and head towards the trailer park.

‘Guess what?’ You say as you burst into Eddie’s trailer.

‘Hello to you too.’ Eddie said, looking up from where he sat on the couch.

‘Hey.’ You say placing the bag with snacks and movies on the counter in the kitchen area.

‘So what was so important you couldn’t even be bothered saying hi to your best friend?’

‘Okay so Steve was working at the video store today-‘

‘So the same as every other day.’ Eddie cut you off.

‘Yeah, now don’t interrupt me.’ You lightly hit him on the chest and he reacts in mock pain, making you roll your eyes. ‘So he asks if I want to go on a double date with him with my boyfriend.’

‘You have a boyfriend and you told Steve but not me!’ Eddie said, genuinely annoyed that you hadn’t told him about your boyfriend. He was your best friend, not Steve.

‘No, I don’t have a boyfriend but Steve thought I did and he thought it was you.’ Eddie stared at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. You tried to keep the disappointed look off your face. You knew Eddie didn’t want to date you but finding the idea that the two of you were dating funny hurt.

‘God, Harrington can be such a dumbass sometimes.’ Eddie laughed.

‘Well, he’s not the only one cause I ran into Gareth afterwards and apparently the whole of Hellfire thinks we're dating.’ You cross your arms. Was the idea of dating you really that bad?

‘But Gareth knows that-‘ Eddie quickly cut himself off.

‘Gareth knows what?’ You glare at him suspiciously.

‘Nothing, nothing. Anyway, you wanna go smoke because I’ve got a new strain that I want to try?’ Eddie rambles on.

‘Fine but don’t think I’m letting you off that easy.’ You say walking through to Eddie’s bedroom and kicking off your shoes before flopping down on the bed. Eddie follows closely behind you and heads over to his dresser, digging around until he finds the small box containing his personal supply. He pulls out a bag and some rolling papers throwing them over to you.

‘You roll, I’ll put on some music.’ He heads over to his cassette collection, looking through it.

‘Fine, I’m better at rolling than you anyway.’ You shoot back, smiling slightly as you work on rolling the joint.

‘Yeah, that’s why if you could roll a couple extra for me to smoke later that would be great.’ He looks back at you and smiles. You roll your eyes but Eddie knows you’ll do it for him.

‘Sabbath, okay?’ He asks pulling out a cassette and putting it in the player.

‘Do I really have a choice?’ You ask as you light up the now rolled joint, holding it in your mouth as you roll some more.

‘Nope.’ Eddie said, flopping down next to you and pulling the joint out your mouth, taking a hit. You weren’t complaining about the music choice. You liked Sabbath. You just liked joking around with Eddie even more.

‘Can you give me a hit while I’m rolling for you?’ You ask Eddie, who obliges, holding the joint in front of your face, as you put your lips around it.

‘God, I’ve got your spit on me now. The things I do for you.’ Eddie sighs, dramatically wiping his hand on his jeans.

‘First of all, my mouth was nowhere near your hand. Second of all, according to half of Hawkins, you are my boyfriend.’ You smile at him, placing the bag now full of pre-rolled joints on his bedside table and turning to face him.

‘Don’t say that.’ Eddie grimaces, looking away from you.

‘Wow, the idea of dating me that bad?’ You ask, grabbing the joint from him. You had no idea what was in this strain but it was hitting you hard and you felt all your inhibitions melting away.

‘No!’ Eddie protested loudly, turning back to look at you. ‘It’s just that you’re you, you know?’

‘No, I don’t know.’ You could see how red Eddie was but you couldn’t stop teasing him.

‘You’re my best friend, the girl I’ve been hanging around with for like ten years. I wouldn’t want to you know. God stop looking at me with that smirk on your face.’ Eddie said pushing your face away from him as you laughed.

‘Okay, I’ll stop. It’s just funny to see you all flustered.’ You hand the joint back over to him and the two of you sit and smoke in a comfortable silence.

‘So what does Gareth know?’ You eventually ask him and he immediately turns bright red again.

‘Damn, I thought you’d have forgotten about that.’ Eddie said rubbing the back of his neck.

‘I don’t forget anything. I still remember the bicycle incident.’ You playfully glared at him.

‘We were 13!’ He yells.

‘Yeah and I’m pretty sure I lost my virginity thanks to that.’ You joke back.

‘I’m pretty sure you lost your virginity in the back seat of Todd Martin’s car.’ He shoots back.

‘Well, yeah officially but stop changing the topic and tell me.’ You poke him in the side causing him to wiggle away from you.

‘It’s nothing honestly.’ You pout at him.

‘I thought we told each other everything but now you're telling me there’s stuff that Gareth knows about you that I don’t.’

‘No, it was just something stupid.’ He shrugs.

‘Wait we were talking about how relationships, do you have a girlfriend I don’t know about or something?’ You ask offended. If Eddie was in a relationship it would break your heart but it would break it even more if he had kept it hidden from you.

‘God no, nothing like that. You know none of the girls in this town would date me.’ Eddie sighed. You wanted to scream at him that you would but you didn’t.

‘Who gives a fuck about girls in this town? They don’t deserve to date the great Eddie Munson.’ You were included in that. You were nowhere near good enough to date someone as amazing as him.

‘Well, there is one girl.’ Eddie murmurs, so quiet you almost miss it but you don’t.

‘So you like someone then. Who?’ You sit up, wanting to know who had managed to capture his attention.

‘It’s no one. It’ll never happen so it doesn’t matter.’ He shrugs and you look over at him.

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Believe me, I do.’

‘Tell me who it is, I guarantee she’s into you as well.’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Please’ You pout at him.

‘No.’ You don’t know if it’s the weed in your system that makes you bold but you move over to straddle his lap, tickling his sides.

‘Tell me.’ You ask as he squirms beneath you. He continues to say that he won’t tell you as you tickle him mercilessly. You suddenly stop, realising how close your face is to his, so close that you can feel his breath on your face. You stared into his eyes, willing him to lean in slightly and connect your lips.

‘I really like this song.’ Eddie mumbles, breaking you out of your trance.

‘Yeah me too.’ You say. You start to sing along quietly to the song, not getting off Eddie’s lap. Eddie laughs quietly and you also start to smile, dancing slightly as you sing, running your hands along Eddie’s chest. You knew this was a bad idea, that you were making your feelings obvious to Eddie and it would change your friendship forever. But you didn’t care.

Eddie’s hands suddenly moved up to your hips and gripped them hard, stopping your movement. He sat up, looking you in the eye as he repositioned you on his lap.

‘The girl I like-‘ Eddie whispers, pressing your foreheads together, ‘-is you.’ Your breath hitched. You couldn’t believe that Eddie liked you too. You wanted to pinch yourself to see if this was real and not a dream.

‘Please respond.’ Eddie said, nervousness lacing his voice.

‘I like you too, Eddie. I have for a long time.’ That was all it took for Eddie to respond, leaning in and kissing you hard. You immediately kissed back, moving one of your hands to wrap in his hair. You parted your lips and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands moving to grip your thigh hard. You moved your hips against him, grinding slightly as he moaned into your mouth pulling away from you.

‘Don’t do that.’ He breathes out, his hands still gripping you hard.

‘Why not?’ You frowned, had you taken it too far?

‘Because if you do I won’t be able to control myself.’

‘What if I want you to lose control?’ That’s all it took for him to react, leaning in and kissing you again. His hands slid under your shirt, moving to grip your breasts through your bra. He started to palm them hard, as he moves his lips down to your neck, sucking hard as you groaned out. You moved your hands from his neck, down to the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Eddie reached to pull off his own shirt, grinning slightly as you moved your hands back to undo your bra, sliding it off.

‘Fuck, you’re tits are even more perfect than I imagined.’ Eddie groaned out as he stared down.

‘So you imagined what my tits looked like?’ You smirked as you ran your hands up his chest, placing them on his shoulders.

‘Yeah, so many times.’ He admitted, clearly holding himself back as he stared at your tits.

‘Well then, stop resisting.’ You leaned forward, kissing his neck down to his chest tattoos. He moved his hands back to your tits playing with them as you kept pressing kisses all over his chest. He moved one of his hands to grip your hair, lightly pulling you away from him as he bowed his head down to kiss your breasts. He pressed kisses in a circle around your nipple before taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. You started to grind on him again as you moaned, feeling his hardness pressing into your jean-covered crotch. You wanted so desperately to reach down and undo your jeans.

‘Eddie, baby, please.’ You whined out, pressing your crotch into him harder. He removed his mouth from your nipple, smirking up at you.

‘What do you want?’ He asks, his hands moving to toy with the button on your jeans.

‘Fuck me, touch me, anything.’ He unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down slightly. You moved off his lap slightly to kick them off. Eddie ran a finger over your underwear, letting out a light groan as he felt how wet you were. He pushed your underwear to the side, moving his finger to rub your clit slowly. You moaned, leaning forward and pressing your face into his shoulder, biting down slightly. He sped up the pace on your clit, rubbing in circles. You continued to moan, your pussy clenching as you felt your orgasm building. You had always known Eddie would be skilled with his fingers but you didn’t think he would bring you to orgasm this fast. He removed his fingers from your clit but it was only for a moment, his thumb pressing against you as he slid his fingers inside you.

‘Fuck, Eddie.’ You moaned out as his fingers moved at a steady pace in and out of you. You moved your head from his shoulder, kissing him hard, moving your hand down to palm him through his jeans. You groaned loudly, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to your orgasm, your hand that wasn’t on his crotch, digging into his shoulder, leaving crescent-shaped marks.

‘You going to come for me, baby?’ He asked, pulling away from your lips. You nodded slightly, whimpering as he sped up the movements on your clit. You felt yourself clench around his fingers as you came hard, moaning out his name as you did so. He slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, before pulling them out of you, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean as you rested your head on his shoulder and you breathed heavily. Eddie wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

You should still feel his hardness pressing into you and you lifted your head up, pressing your lips against his hard. You moved your hands down, undoing his jeans and pulling them down slightly along with his underwear, revealing his hard cock.

‘Babe, you don’t have to.’ Eddie said pulling away from you.

‘I know, I want to.’ You licked your palm, moving it down to pump his cock a few times, as he groaned out. You wanted to move down and feel his cock in your mouth but even more so you wanted him inside you.

‘You got a condom?’ You asked as you kept jerking him with your hand.

‘Yeah, fuck, just let me.’ He reached over to his bedside table, rummaging around in his drawer for a moment before pulling out the foil package. He ripped it open, and you removed your hand from his cock as he rolled the condom down while you pulled your underwear off, throwing them somewhere in the room. Once it was on properly he leaned forward and pressed a kiss again your lips. You lifted your hips up, rubbing against him slightly, before grabbing his cock and lining him up with your hole, pushing down. You both moaned as you felt him fill you up. Once he was fully inside you, you sat still on his lap, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. You slowly started to move your hips against him, placing your hands on his shoulders to support yourself as you pulled your hips up and down.

‘Your pussy feels so good.’ Eddie groaned out as you squeezed around him. He moved his hips up to match your thrusts. He gripped your hips tight, moving forward to suck your breasts again, biting the flesh slightly, leaving marks. You dug your nails into his shoulders and you sped up your pace, bouncing on him.

‘Fuck Eddie, touch my clit, please.’ You groaned out and he obliged, his thumb pressing into you as you threw your head back in a moan. You felt your second orgasm of the night building, the feeling of Eddie’s cock hitting your g-spot and his finger on your clit too much. You moved your hand to grip Eddie’s chin, pulling him away from your tits and pressing his lips to yours. You felt yourself clench around Eddie’s cock and you moaned out loudly against his lips as you come hard. The feeling of you clenching around him send him over the edge and he threw his head back groaning as he came inside the condom.

He flopped back down on the bed, breathing heavily. You pulled your off of him, groaning lightly at the loss. You adjusted yourself slightly, laying down on top of Eddie as he wrapped his arms around you. You lay there comfortably in the silence for a moment before Eddie spoke up.

‘Fuck, we are so going that again.’ He groaned out. ‘I mean if you want to.’ He quickly corrected.

‘Of course, I want to.’ You tell him, looking up at him.

‘So do you also want to go on a date sometime?’ He looked at you sweetly with those big brown eyes.

‘Yeah, definitely, more than anything.’ You say, leaning up to kiss him lightly.

‘Great, I’ll take you out Saturday?’ He asks wrapping his arms around even tighter as you nodded, excited for your date.

‘Aw, fuck.’ You say, realising something.

‘What?’ Eddie said with fear in his eyes. Fear that you were about to tell him that you couldn’t date him.

‘I just told everyone we aren’t dating, now we are.’ You smiled up at him as he relaxed slightly.

‘Well guess we’re just going to have to tell them differently.’ He said, leaning down to kiss your forehead lightly.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn #eddie munson x oc #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #joseph quinn x oc #joseph quinn smut

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prettycutebunny · 2 years ago

Text

Little butterfly

Albert wesker x reader , part 2

Smut minors DNI , angst

Tw: dubcon borderline noncon

The soft hand stroking your quivering body as his eyes bored into your exhausted form. Brain mushed from your previous orgasms , your hazy eyes watched him get out. All the bliss you felt before has left your body in an instant as he started dressing up in a hurry. His back turned towards you as he walked to the door silently. Your lips trembled as you bit them down furiously.

Walking after was always hard , you enjoyed the slight leftover pain. Thinking of it as his mark inside you. Proof that you meant more to him than others in his life, more than her. The bathroom was sparkling clean as usual and the cold water didn’t help the fire like pain in your chest. A sob stuck in your throat as you tried to hold yourself together. Being left alone always makes you feel unclean , filthy , tainted.

‘Clean up and leave’ repeated in your mind like a chantra as you scrubbed yourself raw. Eyes glossy with unshed tears , throat sore from the lump stuck inside it , and body burning from the constant cleanly. You were almost done when your knees buckled. This made you let out the bitterness seep through with a frustrated scream. Your scream turned into a full blown breakdown as he leaned over the outside door listening.

Make sure nobody sees you leave

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you're out for a run

You'll be flushed when you return

When did it all start ? Your first day at work has been a bit awkward with all the new faces but they were nice enough. An intern at the Raccoon City Police department. The eyes were on you as you tried your best not to mess up.

“Hey , newbie”

Your body straightened up instantly as you turned toward the playful voice. His uniform had S.T.A.R.S written on it and it was all you needed to see for your nerves to flair again.

“Calm down rookie , no one will eat you alive.”

He laughed as he patted your shoulder slightly. You giggled like a fangirl as your eyes settled at him. Chris Redfiled was popular between the staff and you recognized him thanks to them. He looked as friendly as he sounded.

“Are you sure ? I’m very tasty !”

He blinked at you trying to register what he heard before he started laughing hard.

“It’s official , I like you”

Your ginned at him and replied back

“Oh my I’m a lucky girl”

An annoyed snarl came from behind, cutting your conversion short.

“Stop wasting your time and get to work”

You whipped your neck so fast it almost broke as it landed on his back. He didn’t even bother looking back at you , just scolded his subordinate and left. Why does he always give you his back ? Why do you always have to watch him walk away ?

Take the road less traveled by

Tell yourself you can always stop

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

He always wore that damned ring , everyday you watched him work with it in his finger. No one knows who the lucky madam is , he’s too overprotective to drag her around. A man of many enemies wanted to keep his woman hidden only for himself. Away from anyone that would dare harm her. The same man who orders dozens of flowers every valentine and leaves early with his head held high.

He caught you staring once more and you looked down with an embarrassed blush. His lips turned up with a smirk before resuming his work. The heat traveled from your cheeks to your neck and ears , the way you acted like a high schooler with a crush towards your superior was shameful but you couldn’t help yourself.

Jill’s voice interrupted your self pity party as she shook her empty coffee mug. You straightened up and headed to the kitchen , as the internet was your job. You helped with official business every once and a while but it’s mostly coffee and food runs. Filling the pot became a routine you enjoyed as coffee was your guilty pleasure.

The fact that the department would allow you to buy the expensive beans you love dearly and adding them to the budget was a dream come true. The fresh smell of fresh brew reached your noise as you took it off and headed to do your rounds. This type was a rare treat for you , until you brought it once to work and it became a must for everyone else.

You tried to hide the proud smile as gloomy faces brightened up at the look of the hot pot in your hand. Starting with Wesker's and Marini’s desks. The latter gave you a grateful smile and his usual flirty comment.

“You’re our Angel , you know that right ?”

Giggling in response you turned to Chris who was the closest to you and poured him as well.

“He’s right , I can’t start my morning without you”

“If you like me that much , why don’t you take me to lunch?”

You raised your eyebrows at him slyly and he rubbed his neck as his usual nervous tic.

“Are you free today ? I know a good plac…”

“Redfield ! Where is Marcus file’s ?”

The barking voice of the alpha’s team leader cut through your conversion like a knife.

“There’s not much in it , he’s been missing for so long that ….”

“Are you telling me you gave up on it ? When I just assigned it to you ?”

This made Chris straightened up as you felt a glare on your back , you walked away from his desk to Jill’s. You felt so bad for Chris but he should’ve known better. Wesker always had it for him for some reason and it was the cause of gossip around in the office.

“And you”

His voice still held its angry tone as you snapped back to look at his covered eyes.

“Stay back after work , I need to speak to you privately”

Panic took over as you tried to keep the coffee run going without shaking. Sympathetic eyes followed you.

“Yes sir”

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and longing stares

It's born from just one single glance

But it dies, and it dies, and it dies

A million little times.

Your knees ached from your weight as your jaw went sore. The warm hand on your head guided you as he groaned on top of you. Tongue clumsily trying to lick the vein under his cock , his fingers laced in your hair and tugged hard. Looking on top of him through your eyelashes , a gush of wetness went between your legs.

His eyes closed , head thrown back , legs spread to accommodate you , and the stiffness he usually held between his shoulders disappeared. His sunglasses rested on the desk as you tried to please him. Head popping in the rhythm he desires.

The hand on you pushed you down suddenly , as tears ran down your face caused by the gagging. Your throat constricted as an objection to his sudden action. A deep growl came from his throat as the salty taste of his seeds filled your mouth and dropped out with the salvia.

He held you down as his blue eyes opened and stared down at the pathetic state he left you in. A smirk formed at his lips as he pulled your head back, his member leaving your lips with a plop. You straightened yourself , legs popping in protest as you reached for a napkin. You’re sure you looked absolutely horrendous.

Wiping your face clean as much as you can , his arms wrapped around you and pulled you to his lap. A yelp left your lips as you felt a hand makes it ways under your skirt and pushing your underwear aside. The rough finger enter you almost caused you to scream.

“I don’t need to tell you why no one should know, do I dear heart ?”

His gruff voice in your ear made you clinch around his finger as you nodded almost desperately. Your hips moved on his thigh as he fucked you with his digit , the friction driving you half insane. Pain shot from your neck as his teeth broke skin from the force of the bite. The pain and pleasure made your mind hazy.

An intense sensation jolted your body as he hit that spot. He smirked between his kisses to the back of your neck and shoulders , making sure to rub that spongy muscle over and over. Your legs and thighs started quivering as you tipped over the edge. His uniform pants are stained with your juices and the wet sounds of your need.

Leave the perfume on the shelf

That you picked out just for him

So you leave no trace behind

Like you don't even exist

You’ve heard stories about people getting stomach aches because of anxiety but experiencing yourself was aganzing. The lights were blindingly bright and the music were deafeningly loud. The place was overcrowded and your senses were overwhelmed. The only thing stopping you from running was the hand clasped around your wrist. The entire squad decided to hit the club after finishing a difficult mission to unwind.

Forming a chain to not separate , you were stuck through the waves of people around you. Making sure to grip Richard's hand behind you tightly , you advanced with the rest towards the bar. Chris hand never let go of yours. Your vision cleared a bit and the sight of the two captains sitting together sipping what seemed like fancy drinks on ice caught your attention.

You let go of Richard’s hand as he headed towards the rest but the hand that held you never let go. You looked up to see Chris rubbing his neck with embarrassment. His eyes shifted to the side before he took a deep breath and turned towards you.

“Do you want to dance ?”

That question took you by surprise as your eyes flickered to your secret lover but he was too deep in conversation to notice you. “Your lover” ? A bitter laugh almost erupted through your chest. He made it very clear what you were. A side piece he uses until he’s bored. He’s never yours and you know it. Looking at the man in front of you as he shifted his stand and smiled brightly. Tugging him into the dance floor.

Wesker cares about his own enjoyment and fun so you should do the same. After all , if he's not yours then you’re not his. Chris moved surprisingly smoothly for a man his size. His biceps would automatically flex every time you touched it making you squeeze it in return. You both laughed as you danced around the crowd.

Jill came over to join you both with drinks in hand. She was slightly tipsy and demanded you share a shot with her. Giggling uncontrollably as Chris' face turned sore from the strong shot. Jill didn’t come to play clearly and you joined them as well. The alcohol burnt your throat but you didn’t care. You were happier than you’ve been in a while and glowed on the dance floor.

Moving your hips in time together, the burning sensation of eyes on your back never let up. Someone was watching you so intensely as you had your fun and you didn’t care to check who they were. Chris spun you once more causing you to almost trip but he caught you. Your hands on his arms as they twitched under your touch. You both made eye contact causing an extreme desire to just lean in.

“Are you two drunk ? Don’t forget we have work tomorrow”

In an almost venom-like tone , Wesker came in behind Chris. His eyes never left your form as you both separated instantly. The weight of his glare made you hunch your shoulders in shame , the prickly pain in your chest returned once more as you excused yourself. Heading towards the exit before anyone could stop you through the crowds once more.

The cool night air calmed your warm body as you tried to stabilize yourself near the wall. Hands clumsily trying to get an Uber while fighting tears. He had no business to ruin your fun but instead of being angry at him , you felt slight happiness thinking he’d be jealous over you. The needle-like pain in your heart screamed at your hopeless thoughts.

A hand snatched your phone from you and pushed you into a dark alley. Your screams are muffled by the familiar feeling of a biting kiss. His scent invaded your nose as his body trapped you against the wall and his rough hand grabbed your thigh from under your dress. Pain shot through your lips as he bit down hard bruising it. Before pulling away.

“You’re mine”

Take the words for what they are

A dwindling, mercurial high

A drug that only worked

The first few hundred times

Sitting in the dark wasn’t your favorite hobby , let alone working in the dark. However, a sudden power outage forced everyone in the station to work in almost pitch black. There were some scented candles around that the members used to form a circle of light and pushed their desks near it to work. Causing your eyesight to be strained as you wrote everything down by hand. The computers were useless but those forms had to be done today.

The flapping in the dim light caught multiple people's attention. A butterfly seemed to have snuck it’s way in the precinct distracting the people around it. The small feature landed on your hand as you smiled down at it. You can’t make out the colors because of the darkness but it was beautiful. The butterfly suddenly flew away and straight toward the candle light.

You gasped as you tried to grab it away, burning your fingers as a result. You heard Rebecca’s scolding tone as the poor creature’s wings were burnt and it flapped in agony in your palm. She shifted away to get the first aid kit while you wanted to cry. The small life that touched you was gone in a second because it flew too close to the warmth it seeked.

The lights were back on as the medic applied the burn cream to your fingers. The slight pain was nothing compared to how conflicted your thoughts were at the moment. The sight of Wesker leaving with a smirk as the other captain teased him about his “strict madam”. Nothing in the world could make him stay past his work time and he took pride in saying how sad his wife would be if he was late. The bitterness and resentment burnt its way deeply within you as you headed back to your computer.

A sudden buzz in your phone made you look up. You opened the test from an unknown number.

‘I’m waiting for you outside

W’

Sending the last email you needed to , you picked up your stuff and said your goodbyes. Only the true workaholic stayed more than they needed to - or Chris when he messed up his paperwork so bad he needed to redo them - so no one paid any attention to you. The black car waited for you outside. as you opened the passenger door you blurted a snarky remake.

“Not going to see the Mrs today ?”

He let out an amused huff before he turned towards you.

“Jealousy isn’t a good color on you little butterfly but if you must know , she’s on a vacation. My darling has been so stressed lately that I wanted to spoil her”

Did he just call you ‘little butterfly’ ? You chewed on your lips in frustration as he drove towards the usual hotel. Because that’s where men take their whores , a hotel and not their home.

“I’m thinking about divorce”

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie, and they lie, and they lie

A million little times

Laying on your bed sobbing , all you can think of was his treachery. You knew he was a cruel man but giving you hope only to take it away was heartless. He never left her but instead took a week off for a ‘family vacation’. You had to find out the next day at the office when he wasn’t there. He lied through his teeth as you both had one of the most passionate nights in your life.

You were so happy with the thought of finally having him - all of him - to yourself alone. He ravaged you so hard you can still feel him as you move. The black hole in your chest returned with full force eating away any of the happiness you felt that day. You wanted to tell someone so badly but you can’t. You’ll be the slut who’s sleeping with a married man and forever shamed. The whore who slept her way to the top with her supervisor. Undeserving of her job or any promotion that’s to come.

The sudden phone ringing broke you out of your episode of crying and self loathing. ‘W’ was flashing on your screen as you turned it off. He can’t just go have fun with his wife for a week after lying to you and expect you to answer him the moment he calls. As much as you’d like to say you have dignity , it’s been shattered the moment he walked into your life. You want this to be over so badly but he’s like a drug you can’t stop indulging yourself into. Your phone flashing screen irritated you as you turned off and threw it towards the other pillow.

Not even a half hour later , a frantic knock on your door interrupted you. Determined to isolate yourself from everyone you ignored it. The voice behind the door however forced you to stand up.

“I know you’re inside dearheart , now open up”

His voice was tinged with annoyance as he seemed pissed off that he had to come to you. The words left your lips before you could even stop them.

“Leave me alone ! I hate you !”

The anger bubbling inside you burst as you kept screaming.

“We’re over ! I don’t want to see you ever again and I quit !”

A silence followed as the tension in the air began to rise. You slowly stood up and headed towards the door , your ajar bedroom door should’ve made your words crystal clear. there was a silence on his end and no footsteps were heard. The breaking of your door lock made you stand straight with fear, as your captain walked into your house with silent anger. His posture was stiff as his hand held the crushed knob in it. His head turned towards you slowly as you can swear his eyes flashed red under his sunglasses. He took big threatening steps toward you as he slammed the door behind him , causing the farm to shake. you used this chance to run to your bedroom for cover.

His hand caught your wrist before you could make it through the door and he brought you against his hard chest. This made youscream once more.

“Fuck off and leave me alone !”

You were too hurt to care about your safety and all your survival instinct shut itself off. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed and climbed over it before you could get off. One of his hands covered your lips while the other tore away your shorts. You tried to shut your legs off but he pried it open and forced his fingers in. The wetness pooled in your core slowly as you teared up in shame.

“You hate me ? Then what is this ?”

He spoke through gritted teeth as he raised his wet gloved hand. He raised the hand that covered your lips and put it over your thigh raising your legs for a deeper angle. His brutal digits returned to your aching pussy once more. You wanted to scream - to protest - but all that came out was sobs and moans. He knew all your sweet sports and was hitting them to make a point. You tried pushing him away but it was like trying to push a boulder off.

His fingers left your core and the sound of the zipper made you thrash again. He pulled his belts off , looping them around your wrists for leverage before forcing his length inside as you let out a scream of pain and pleasure. He was too big even with the slight foreplay and a brutal pace was set before you could have a chance to adjust.

Your back arched and your hips moved in sync while he bit down on your neck harshly determined to make himself in you. His thrusts were too deep and too fast for you to keep a straight head , your orgasm building up faster than anything you’ve experienced before. Your tears never stopped as he flipped you over - still inside you - and raised your hips up.

Everything felt good and painful at once and your brain was fried. your arms were pulled behind your back and ached in protest to the weird angle. He used them to raise your upper body up as his other hand kept your hips in place. The angle combined with the shameful position sent you into orgasm after orgasm. His teeth sunk into as much flesh as it could with the simple purpose of making a point.

“Do you think you can just ignore you ? End things whenever you want and leave me behind ? Did you learn nothing from your little friend, little butterfly ?”

His voice invaded your tormented mind as he slapped your behind hard. A whimper left your throat at his words as he repeated the action over and over again.

“You’re mine. Everything about you belongs to me. You’re not allowed to leave. Do. You. Hear. Me. ?”

He empathized the last sentence with hard thrusts between his words. As you clinched against his dick for another orgasm , he pushed himself deep as his seeds filled your abused hole to the brim. Your quivering walls milking him until his last drop.

He stood up and zipped himself up before turning towards you.

“I will let this one fly because you’re so young but don’t fly too close to the fire, little butterfly or you’ll get burnt.”

And you wanna scream

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

You showed me colors

You know I can't see with anyone else

The luxurious bed sheets felt heavenly on your naked skin , the silky cold pillowcase caressed your cheeks softly and gentle touches of callous fingers on your arm was the perfect combination to a restful sleep. Your mind kept dozing off as you tried your hardest to stay awake but you were too comfortable to be able to fight it. He's rarely around you in such a serene moment and it feels like a waste to spend it sleeping.

“Do you know why Icarus fell ?”

His smooth voice growing huskier because of sleep made you open your eyes lazily.

“He burnt his wings while flying towards the sun ?”

“That is correct , does it not remind you of someone's little butterfly?”

Blinking the sleep out of your eyes as you straighten yourself up while grabbing your things off the side table.

“Don’t call me that.”

Your voice came shakier than you would’ve liked as tears clouded your eyes once more. Couldn’t he just let you be happy for once ? He didn’t say anything as he watched you grab your clothes off the floor.

“They say he was smiling as his wings slowly burnt off. Do you know why ?”

Without looking back you got dressed despite the burning in your eyes. The shaking in your arms didn’t stop him from continuing his story.

“Icarus was so captivated by the sun's warmth and beauty he didn’t think about stopping. He knew he'd be the only one to ever reach it so he was burned. It's interesting , is it not a little butterfly?”

“Go to hell”

Your broken sobs won over as you stormed out of the bedroom towards the bathroom not giving him a single glance. Albert was the smartest man you know but he was killing you with his words without noticing. This entire story was meant to be a warning to you. ‘Don’t desire more or you’ll live to regret it’.

Holding the anguish screams inside your chest , you entered the shower trying to wipe your tears away. You only needed to wash off and leave. The smell of him was all over your body and you just wanted it off. Washing your feelings and all his lingering traces out of your system. The tip of your toes clashed with the sink making a loud scream of pain out.

It was like opening a flud with you collapsing on the floor crying loudly with your arms reaching out clumsily to open the shower. Hoping the sound of the water would mask your shameful outburst. He thinks little of you, it burns but you care too much of him. It breaks little pieces of your soul every time.

Don't call me "kid"

Don't call me "baby"

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

You taught me a secret language

I can't speak with anyone else

Albert watched you walk away and only got up after hearing the door slam shut. He let out a frustrated sight as he glared down at the ring in his hand. Wearing it around helped him professionally and personally. The greatest cover up for him missing work at the police station and boosted his social status with umbrella’s suits. He noticed the way they treated Birkin differently after his marriage and he couldn’t let his friend get all the glory.

No one captured his special attention besides fluffing him sexually and even that didn’t last long. His body stiffened as your scream reached his ear. He can’t simply divorce his nonexistent wife and telling you the truth is out of the question. He had always planned ten steps ahead of everyone but your appearance took him off guard. He never intended to fall for anyone , he’s Albert wesker. He never ‘falls’ for anything and the sudden change both confused and angered him.

His ‘Little butterfly’ was fragile , sweet , and naive. Not noticing the loopholes in his half assed excuses as he went away to his research. Never questioning how his ‘wife’ is okay with him spending a night after night away even on holidays. Why she’s not present in any events or why no one knew what she looked like. He has the green eyed monster to thank for that.

Bringing up Icarus was him projecting and he knew it. It wasn’t her who was flying too close to the sun but him. He has a perfect airtight plan that would guarantee his immortality if he just followed it without calling her to his office the time it started. He couldn’t resist the urge to fly and pursue his desire determined it’ll go away on its own. The thought of Chris asking her out before he had a taste of her left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He bared his teeth in anger as Chris’s name came to mind. The younger man was brazen enough to put moves on his woman multiple times even when he laid claim to her time and time over. Too thick skulled to understand he stands no chance.

The alarm next to him rang, singling it’s time to get to work. He stared at the bathroom door for a moment before heading to the other bathroom with a sight. He’s flying too close to the sun with his sheer desire to own her , have her stand by him as his queen and he’s not sure he could stop before burning himself off.

And you know damn well

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times

#albert wesker x reader #Chris redfield x reader #resident evil x reader #albert wesker #chris redfield #bunny writes #angst

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glystenangel · 2 years ago

Text

Kissing in the Dark

SoftDom!Choso x Afab!Reader (Modern AU)

tags/warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, everyone's 21+ in this, alcohol and substance use, praise kink, riding, unprotected sex, lotttttts of kissing, dirty talk, swearing, Choso calls you your highness but sarcastically and pretty girl but not sarcastically, friends to lovers type beat

summary: you go to choso's house party and drunkenly realize that you two make good friends, but have better sex

~4k

thanks for reading and enjoy <3

“Oh my god, she’s finally here!” Nobara engulfed you in a hug as soon as she answered the door.

She smelled of booze and floral shampoo, and you could see that the living room behind her had been loosely decorated with colorful garlands and most of the lights had been switched off. Flashing lights cut through the dimness and music with heavy bass reverberated in your chest, it was so loud you had to almost shout into Nobara’s ear.

“Finally? Yuji said to come around 9 and it’s only 10.” You laughed, squeezing her back.

“What? We’ve been drinking since I got off work at 8.”

“That’s because you just barged in without warning and waving around a bottle of vodka. We were barely set up.” Yuji elbowed her aside, “You’re still like an hour late though, what happened?”

“I’m not gonna lie, I took a nap and lost track of time.” You apologized, trying to subtly peek over his shoulder.

He gave you a knowing stare, “You looking for Choso?”

“No.” The too fast answer made Yuji and Nobara cackle.

“Don’t be like that.” Nobara pinched your cheek, “He’s been asking if you were coming too.”

“Thanks for letting me know, now I can give him shit for it.” You grinned as you imagined the way he would probably roll his eyes and scoff at your teasing, but pull you into a hug all the same.

“I’m surprised he didn’t text you.” Yuji rubbed his chin, “Probably chickened out.”

“You two are so bad, one of you needs to make a move already.” Nobara shook her head, draining the last of her drink.

“Maybe after a few drinks I’ll feel up for it.” You shrugged, part of you liked the cat and mouse game you two had been playing ever since Nobara had invited you to Yuji’s birthday party half a year ago.

“He’s in the kitchen making drinks. Come on, we gotta reup.” Yuji waved you in before closing the door.

As they lead you through the house, you high fived and briefly chatted with the other guests at the party. It was a healthy mix of Choso and Yuji’s friends, along with some people you didn’t recognize and assumed were friends with the pair’s other brothers. It was a relatively huge house for just Choso, Kechizu, Eso, and Yuji, so they liked to throw parties every so often on the weekends. At first, you had been intimidated by Choso’s striking attractiveness and bored attitude, so you had totally avoided him after your initial introduction. Then, some guy named Mahito had smacked your ass on your way out of the bathroom and Choso had immediately gotten up from his seat to knock him out cold with a single punch. Once Eso and Kechizu had carried his limp form out of the house, you decided that the least you could do was ice Choso’s hand with a bag of peas from the fridge and profusely thank him.

“You’re good, I just hate assholes like that.” Choso had casually shrugged, and then he gently added, “Let me know if anyone ever bothers you again. I got you.”

“You like playing bodyguard?” You had teased, though you could feel yourself blushing at his unexpected protectiveness.

He had then sent you a grin that made your heart skip a beat.

“Something like that.”

After that, you had begun to harbor the biggest crush on him. It didn’t help that you had immediately clicked as you conversed over the thawing bag of peas. You definitely developed a soft spot for each other, and you texted him whenever you weren’t at the house or joining the rest of the friend group at a concert or some other fun outing. Nobara was right in that you two had been dancing around the subject of becoming more than friends for a while now. Even in the quiet moments when you two were alone, neither of you ever seemed ready to cross that line.

You finally made it to the kitchen where Megumi and Choso were making small talk as they shared a bowl next to a sizable spread of alcohol, sodas, and juices on the kitchen counter. Your breath caught in your throat from seeing Choso’s tall frame leaned against the stove, his eyelashes fanning down as he inhaled from a glass pipe. His hair was neatly tied up in its signature spiky bundles, and flickers of bright color moved over his handsome face, revealing the dark mark across his nose bridge and the concentrated scrunch of his defined eyebrows as he smoked. Even in the low light, the silver in his ear piercings and the multitude of rings around his fingers gleamed. When he let out an exhale of hazy white vapor, you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed or how his broad shoulders rolled back afterwards. He was always the perfect picture of composure and strength, with his muscular build and calm disposition. Even in just a grey t-shirt and black distressed jeans you could see how defined his towering figure was, the veins in his arms pronounced and the lean shapes of his muscles vaguely outlined in the fabric.

“Hey.” Megumi waved when he noticed you three entering the kitchen, and you smiled at him.

“Hey guys!”

Choso snapped his head up, passing off the bowl to Megumi and automatically opening his arms to you.

“You made it.”

“Yeah, I heard you were waiting on me. Didn’t wanna break your heart, so I decided to show up.” You looked up at him as he hugged you, beaming when he chuckled and rolled his eyes before meeting your gaze.

“Well, thank you for gracing us with your presence, your highness.”

You loved making eye contact with him, something about the depth in his dark eyes made you feel so safe and created a flood of warmth in your chest.

“And don’t worry, I’d let you break my heart any day.” Choso claimed, crouching down so that his mouth was right by your ear. The admission made your throat go dry.

Then he laughed, pinching your nose and making you let out a confused and irritated, ‘hey!’ before he let you go.

“What do you wanna drink?” He asked, gesturing at the arsenal of liquor available and keeping his eyes on your contemplative face.

“Let’s take a shot!” Nobara yelled, sitting herself onto the white tile of the counter and tugging Megumi and Yuji’s shoulders to her sides.

“Make that two for me, I need to catch up.” You volunteered, holding up a peace sign.

“Atta girl!” Nobara sent you a wink as Choso went over to the stack of empty cups and distributed the shots.

“What is it?” Megumi cringed as he sniffed at his red plastic cup.

“Tequila.” Choso deadpanned, sticking a lime wedge into the rim and jutting his chin towards Megumi’s hand, “Here’s the salt.”

Choso poured a tiny pile of salt onto the back of everyone’s hands and you all clinked cups before Yuji counted down.

“Cheers!” ________________

Eventually, you ended up as thoroughly sloshed as everyone else, and you collapsed on the couch next to Choso after dancing for what felt like hours. Yuji, Nobara, and surprisingly Megumi were still at it. The trio were honestly good dancers, and you clapped while watching them groove to the beats until you sank into your seat.

“Hey.” Choso greeted, a small smile on his face.

“Hi.” You returned with an airy wave, curling onto your side to face him as he rested his elbows over his knees.

“You look happy.” He noted, taking a few gulps from the water bottle he nursed in his hands.

He offered it to you once he had his fill, and you gratefully drank some sips.

“I always am when I’m with all of you.” You said simply, feeling the water soothe the edges of your brain that fizzed with alcohol.

You handed the bottle back, and Choso finished it with a sigh.

“You’re gonna give me a toothache.” He gave you a sidelong glance, though his eyes crinkled at the sentiment.

“What? I can’t love my friends?” You punched his arm, and he feigned injury before catching your wrist.

“Sorry, your highness. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Better not.”

“Or what?” He tilted his head, leaning in close and automatically drawing your eyes to the enticing curve of his cupid’s bow. You could smell the clean scent of his cologne on his skin, and you wondered if he knew how much more beautiful his eyes were up close.

A loud crash from the kitchen startled you from your thoughts, and you could hear a group of guys chanting, “Chug it! Chug it!”

More chants and loud whistles pierced the air as you assumed more alcohol had been successfully guzzled down by one of the partygoers.

“It’s a little loud out here, you wanna hang out in my room?” Choso drew back, gesturing in the general direction of his room.

“Sure!” You breezily replied, following him as he got up.

You ran your hand along the wall as you went through the dark hallway of the house, playing with the shadows that projected on the walls as figures passed by or danced across the living room. You couldn’t wait to be able to sit down again. You often nestled yourself into Choso’s bed when hanging out with him, so you were sure he wouldn’t mind if you snuggled yourself into the blankets once more.

“Finally.” Choso deftly clicked the door open, swinging it aside and sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide. He yawned into his hands before raking them through the loose hairs that framed his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his perpetual tiredness as you shut the door, not even bothering to turn on the lights and coming to rest in the space between his legs before intertwining your arms around his neck. If you weren’t still mildly drunk, the nonchalant way he brought his hand up to rub at your forearm would have made you a stuttering mess.

“How are you feeling?” You tipped your head to the side, looking down at him serenely.

He nodded as he peered up at you, his words slightly slurring at the ends.

“Good. Really good, except that-” He abruptly broke himself off, letting out an amused scoff, “Nevermind. I’m good.”

Your eyebrows immediately knitted together with concern, “What? No, what’s wrong?”

He focused on the ground in silence for a moment and then reluctantly swept his gaze back up to you, “Nothing, it’s just that…”

The muffled music from the living room beat into the walls, but Choso’s pause made the pounding of your heart the only thing you could hear. That is, until he considered you with a defeated smile and spoke again.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

At first, you thought you had misheard, but he continued talking and his next statement erased any remaining doubt within you.

“I think about kissing you a lot, actually.” He confessed, breath heavy and his hand delicately stroking past your elbow.

The touch caused a shiver to run through you, but you grounded yourself enough to find your voice, “Yeah? How often?”

“More than I’d care to admit.” The skin underneath the mark on his nose tinted pink, and you found the need to make him stay in such an overwhelmed and embarrassed state irresistible.

“That’s a shame, I like hearing you. I like words.” You crossed your arms behind his neck, and his hands readily moved to wrap around your waist.

He bit at his lip for a minute, trying to steer his line of sight anywhere else instead of at you. His sudden shyness made your heart nearly burst with affection.

“Do you like words too?”

Choso briefly met your eyes, and you could see how blown out his pupils were from just your bodies being pressed so closely together.

He swallowed, and then allowed a single nod of his head.

“Every time I see you I want to kiss you.” You murmured, kissing his cheek to prove your point.

He let out a subdued groan, tightening his hold on you and pulling you closer.

“And kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and fucking kiss you.” You went on, little whines escaping your lips as you trailed kisses along his neck and jawline until his hands trembled.

“God, you’re something else.” His hands slid under your shirt, gripping at your bare skin.

The heat of his motions made you close your eyes, and you felt his hand reach up to grasp the back of your neck and tug you into a fervent kiss.

When your lips touched, the sheer bliss was instant. Every hungry tilt of his head only served to deepen the kiss and your feelings towards him, and the electrifying movement of your mouths made your heart beat excitedly. Each kiss seemed to serve as his replacement for air, and the way Choso roughly groped at your pliant body made you slick with arousal.

Eventually, you both had to break apart to take deep breaths. Your lips were only centimeters apart, though Choso seemed to find that absolutely unacceptable.

“No. Not allowed, sorry.” He ground out, exasperatedly kissing at the corner of your mouth and digging his fingers into your sides.

“Oh? I’m not allowed?” You teased in between more needy and breathless kisses.

��Nope.” Another peck was stolen from your tender lips, and then he stilled as he intently looked into your eyes.

“Unless, you really want to stop…do you want to stop?”

The slight panic and concern in his eyes was so endearing that you gathered the collar of his shirt towards you, bringing your lips together.

“No. Don’t stop.” You begged in a hushed tone, and you could feel the smile on his lips.

You made quick work of each other’s clothing, the alcohol and adrenaline of your confessions fueling the reckless abandonment of every piece of clothing until you were both finally skin to skin. You straddled Choso’s lap, shuddering when the tip of his eager cock brushed against your sensitive clit. When you tried to push down Choso’s chest to sit properly, he sat back up and refused to budge.

“No. Too far.” He asserted, apparently unable to cope with you being outside of kissing distance.

“I’m right here, I promise.” You reassured with a laugh, giving him a peck on the lips as you hovered over his cock.

You nervously studied his boner beneath you, the entire length was bulky and pearlescent droplets of precum adorned the engorged tip as it lightly grazed his lower abs. You could see the blood vessels along the sides pulsating from the feverish anticipation of entering your all too willing pussy.

“Ready?” His question brought you out of your stupor, and you gingerly nodded.

“Please, Choso.”

He firmly placed his hands at your waist, guiding his rigid cock into your slippery entrance. Choso spread apart your folds with little effort, deliberately slowing to give you enough time to adjust and comfortably engulf every girthy inch. The crescent shapes of your nails stung into his shoulders, and you placed your knees against the bed for leverage, mewling at the delicious swell of your walls from his massive size. You lewdly dripped around the base of his cock, and he let out a guttural swear at your drenched state.

“Goddamn.” He carefully swivelled his hips, observing your soaked pussy slicken further and smirking at the whimper that you released from the movement.

“You wanna use my cock to cum? Go ahead.” Choso muttered against your lips, easily heaving your hips up until you absorbed the cue and began bouncing on the veiny ridges of his cock with enthusiasm.

He kept his hands at the arch of your back, depositing heated kisses against your lips as you braced yourself on his shoulders and fucked yourself exactly how you wanted. The fat head of his cock rubbed at your most delectable spots, and you found yourself coming to the edge of orgasm over and over again. Choso attentively caught every filthy sound that you emitted from riding his cock, devouring the pathetic moans and stretching you out until tears dampened your eyelashes.

The pleasure was so dominating that you were no longer able to return his kisses, lustful pants escaping your lips and animalistic instinct taking over the forefront of your mind. Choso didn’t seem to mind, gliding his lips over your neck instead and checking the shifts in your facial expression with an obsessive degree of care. The rocking of your hips had him biting down hard on his jaw, and you were captivated by the obscene whimpers he choked out. You rutted into him with an excited hunger, entering a daze when he hotly moaned against your throat and swore to every God that you felt absolutely amazing.

Choso was known to be a man of few words, so when he started lowly offering more encouragement in your ear you could hardly take it.

“Such a pretty girl. Love how pretty you look sitting on my cock like that.” He whispered, watching you clench around him and the glistening sheen of your precum coating his hardened cock.

You incoherently mumbled a reply, all but lost in the heady sensations and his praise.

“Gonna cum if you keep this up, fuck. So, so good. Squeezing me just right.” Choso let out a strained breath when you constricted around him, and you felt him taking control of your pace. He snapped his hips up to meet yours with solid smacks, and you could feel the slap of his balls hitting right up against where precum was seeping out of the bottom of your slit, incessant whimpers and pleads left you from every desperate rush of his cock.

“How did I get so lucky, hm? God, you are so pretty.” At this point, you were completely mindless and obediently taking every thrust, letting him wildly ram into you and clamping around his incredible thickness. You gasped with delight at his relentless pounding, twitching with wanton pleasure. The swollen head of his cock visibly prodded at your stomach, and your mouth filled with drool as the rest of his sturdy length followed to stroke through your saturated pussy. It felt so good that your toes were curling and your eyes sluggishly glazed over with exhilaration. Of course, Choso noticed.

“Oh, you liked that, pretty girl? Like when I fuck you deep in your pussy like that? I like it too. I love it.” He divulged against your parted lips, so turned on by how dumb you had become from his touch that he had to swallow thickly between phrases.

You dribbled without shame around his unwieldy cock, the wet sounds of your fucking only making it harder for you to not lose control.

“Are you close?” Choso’s voice was soft, but you could hear it edged with pride and a hint of mocking.

You managed to faintly nod, placing your hands over his as they continued directing messy yet powerful slams into your quivering pussy. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate. Chills pricked into your skin, and you squirmed at the intoxicating gratification forming in your core.

“Good, good. Keep going. I want to see the pretty look on your face when you cum.” He gave you a loving peck behind your ear and then touched his forehead to yours.

When he saw your mouth drop open and your eyebrows pinch together in ecstasy, he maintained his pace until you were frantically jerking around in his lap, overloading from the pleasure tearing through your body and spurting warm streaks of cum onto his waiting cock.

Choso grabbed your throat to crush your lips against his, agitatedly lifting you up and down his dick until you sensed his cum mesh with yours and squish into your satisfied cunt. He finally settled you down to rest on top of his thighs, and you ground steady circles into his hips, relishing the addictive pulse of your orgasm racing through your system.

You clutched at the back of his neck, slotting your tongue into his mouth and seeing sparks whenever his tongue slid over yours. His hands molded around your curves, and when he fell back onto the bed he dragged you down with him.

Though you could feel your climax fading, content hums left you and the joyful pitterpat of your heart from being in Choso’s secure embrace only increased.

When Choso pulled away, the pure adoration in your eyes was apparent as he carefully held your face in his hands. His breathing slowed as he regarded you with the same happiness in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” You cheekily inquired, placing your hands on his muscular chest.

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.” An exhausted smile spread across his face, and he blinked distractedly.

You let out a small laugh, “Choso, you alright?”

“Yeah, I just love you.”

The unexpected declaration hit your heart with precision, and you instantly melted at his honesty.

"Fuck." You timidly buried your head in his chest before raising your head to peek at his handsome visage, “I love you too.”

He chuckled warmly, patting your head and leaning forward to gift an affectionate kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you.” ________________

The next morning you woke up cuddled within Choso’s strong arms and feeling significantly sore.

Before you could register more of your aches, you detected Choso at your back as he nuzzled his chin into the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Good morning, did my girlfriend sleep well?”

You quickly turned to look at him, a beam lighting up your face, “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Girlfriend.” He reiterated, reflecting your smile.

You practically pounced on him with an ecstatic kiss, and last night’s events almost repeated themselves, only to be rudely interrupted by erratic knocks at his door.

“Hey!” Nobara yelled out your name authoritatively, adding more impatient knocks and rattling the doorknob for good measure, “We know you’re in there!”

“Yeah! We know you’re in there!” Yuji joined in, his own knuckles rapping against the wood.

The blood drained from your face and you burrowed back into Choso’s arms, making his shoulders shake with poorly contained laughter.

“I’m sorry, I told them to leave you two alone!” Megumi shouted halfheartedly.

“We just wanna know who made the first move! I’ve got $20 on the line here!” Yuji pleaded.

“Go away!” You retorted, attempting to fix your hair.

Choso moved to help you, trying to comb through the mussed locks with his fingers.

“See! I told you! She really is in there, ha!” Nobara bragged, and you slapped a hand over your mouth before glimpsing up at Choso.

“Choso, do something!”

He cupped a palm over the side of his mouth and pointed it towards his bedroom door, “Guys, step away from the door or I’ll make you listen to us fuck!”

“Choso!” You squeaked, but he only donned a shiteating grin when you made a weak attempt to slap him.

“Oh my god!” Yuji and Nobara screamed, and you could practically see Megumi’s worn out face when he sighed.

“I’m leaving.”

“What? Embarrassed?” Choso asked, hauling you closer.

“Yes! Well, no- But you can’t just say that to them!”

“I’m sorry, your highness. Forgive me.” He tried to sound sincere, but you rolled your eyes at the obvious guiltlessness in his smug expression.

“Only if you let me steal one of your hoodies and make me a breakfast burrito.” You raised up your hand in a mock handshake, and he readily grasped it.

“Done.” He bowed his head, bestowing a kiss onto the back of your hand.

“Can I get one too, bro?” Yuji requested from the other side of the doorway.

“Wait, me too!” Nobara chimed in.

“Both of you, fuck off!” ________________

End Notes:

Me 🤝 The failed one night stand trope with Choso

This is for my fellow party girl Chosoheads✊😤

thanks for reading<3

((((((if you liked it, check out my other Choso oneshot here😚)))))

631 notes · View notes

becca-e-barnes · 3 years ago

Note

#1 for imagine with dads!best friend 😉

So y/n has a crush on her dads best friend, because he’s this big beefy man with charm that makes all the ladies swoon. He’s all she can think about when she is laying there awake at night.

It’s her graduation (or some event) and her dad throws a celebration. Bucky is invited and she’s excited to see him until he shows up at their house with a random woman hanging off his arm. She’s jealous and realizes he’s never going to like her the way she would wants and sneaks off to her room to be alone, until Bucky finds her and they are alone

The Graduation Party

@littlecanadianlani was kind enough to send me over some (immaculate) Dad’s Best Friend! Bucky ideas and I’m so obsessed I think I’ll make them a series of one-shots so I can keep up with my requests at the same time!! Each piece will be a standalone fic rather than a chapter but I’m super excited about this!! 🥰 #2 is also out now! Read it here

I went for a graduation party since I didn’t really get one yet 😅

Pairing: Dad’s Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4.3K

Summary: Your parents throw you a graduation party but things take a turn when Bucky turns up with a new girlfriend

Warnings: Smut, oral sex (m and f receiving), vaginal sex, fingering, huge age gap (Bucky is maybe around 40, reader is 21), lil angst perhaps? Fluff, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (behave yourselves pls), dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, pet names, coercion (but in the sense that Bucky knows he shouldn’t want his best friend’s daughter. All parties are enthusiastically participating), humping, riding, dumbification

Minors, do not interact

You weren’t sure there was a man more intimidatingly handsome than your dad’s college best friend and he knew it. If tall, dark and handsome was a person, it would be Bucky Barnes with his piercing blue eyes and soft, flushed, pink lips.

He was the definition of a bachelor. Unmarried, no kids, seemingly endless disposable income and from what your dad had told you, a new woman every week. And why shouldn’t he? Married life just didn’t seem to be his thing, settling down might never happen for Bucky and there was nothing wrong with that.

Plus the fact he hadn’t settled had kept your little crush alive. You couldn’t help wondering what it was like to be with a man like Bucky. A man with experience, a man who knew how to actually make love to a woman, rather just offer five minutes of painfully inadequate sex before rolling over and falling asleep, leaving you frustrated and unsatisfied.

It was terrible to admit but countless nights had passed with your hands delving between your thighs, a shiver running over your flushed skin as you imagined how his gruff little groans would sound when you offered yourself up to him. How it would feel to have him slipping into your tight heat until you weren’t sure where his body ended and yours began.

But your little fantasy was all crumbling down around you now, at your own graduation party no less. Bucky had just arrived with a girlfriend. You couldn’t have seen it coming, a tall, beautiful woman hanging off his arm as your dad introduced himself to her.

You couldn’t believe how jealous you were. You were only hiding a school girl crush after all, plain and simple infatuation, it was nothing serious but God, your chest had tightened with discontent seeing how he smiled at her, introducing her to the other guests at your garden party until those charming eyes locked with yours.

“Oh sugar, congratulations on the results! You did amazing!” He beamed proudly, crossing the whole garden to wrap you up in the tightest hug. His body felt huge and comforting, smelling fresh and woodsy and God it would be so easy to get lost in it, lost in him.

“Thank you Bucky!” You couldn’t help the tinge of heat burning in your cheeks as you pulled away.

“Oh angel, you make me feel so old. Can’t believe you’ve graduated college now! You’re so beautiful too, you’re all grown up! But hey, this is Sarah, she’s been dying to meet you!” Bucky grinned, his words making you tingle with longing right up until Sarah was thrust in front of you, your arms wrapping around her before you had a chance to stop yourself.

“It’s so nice to meet you honey, Bucky’s been gushing about how proud he is of you!” Sarah was so lovely. That was even worse. Never mind the fact she was pretty, she was painfully sweet.

“It’s nice to meet you too! Bucky hadn’t mentioned you before. How long have you two been… um…” you questioned softly, not really knowing their situation

“Dating? A few weeks now. No needa be shy honey, I don’t mind answerin’ your questions.” Bucky’s confident smirk made your stomach churn. The whole time you’d known Bucky, he’d never been this open about being in a relationship. In fact, Sarah was the first actual girlfriend you knew of. You could feel your smile faltering, your little crush being dashed before your eyes.

“Oh shit, we should go say hi to your mom, talk to you later, okay?” Bucky grinned, gently lifting Sarah’s hand in his own once more and heading off to find your mother.

You needed to get away. You needed to get out of the crowd before the angry, frustrated tears that were prickling your eyes spilled over. It was stupid, childish and you knew that but it didn’t make it any easier, knowing you’d never compare to this beautiful woman in Bucky’s eyes. No one stopped you as you made your way to your room, the wooden door slamming behind you while you flopped onto the bed, face buried in the pillow.

You had no idea how long had passed before you heard the door creak open again.

“Baby, are you in here?” The familiar voice sent longing straight through you, the sickly feeling nestling in your chest. At the sound of Bucky's voice, you pulled your head up out of the pillow, thankful you had managed not to cry.

Bucky looked so damn concerned.

“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He questioned softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his features flooded with worry.

“Nothin’ Bucky, just didn’t feel great. Where’s Sarah?” You asked, running a hand through your hair, the hem of your little sundress ghosting the top of your knees.

“Oh she went home.” Bucky laughed, the low chuckle erupting from his throat.

“What’s so funny?” You quizzed gently, watching his expression as he turned to look at you.

“Say nothin’ okay? Your dad and I made a bet a few years ago. Bet me fifty bucks that I wouldn’t have a girlfriend by the time you were graduating. Sarah’s my neighbour, she volunteered to play along when I was tellin’ her bout you last week.” Bucky’s admission made your heart swell for so many reasons. He wasn’t settling down. Sarah wasn’t his, he wasn’t taken and fuck, he told his neighbour about you?

“Oh…. So you’re not… Dating?” Damn your curiosity, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you had considered how they would sound.

“Not dating anyone, sugar. Why? You getting jealous of Sarah?” He teased, working out that he was spot on when you couldn’t meet his gaze. You were jealous of Sarah. You did want to be her. You could feel how your cheeks were burning ferociously, the room suddenly far too hot despite the evening breeze drifting in the open window.

“Oh angel, don’t tell me a delicate, innocent little thing like you wants someone like me.” His words made you impossibly hotter, your skin burning up under his intense gaze.

“If I didn’t know better honey, I’d think you were jealous of Sarah. You wanna be my girl, huh? I’d only ruin you, princess. Don’t wanna do that, it wouldn’t be right.” Bucky could hardly contain himself. Your attitude gave you away entirely. You did want him. You wanted to be ruined, pinned to the bed and fucked until you couldn’t cum anymore but he needed you to admit it. He needed to hear it out loud before he could give in.

“Tell me you want it angel. Tell me you wanna be treated right. Tell me how bad that little pussy needs a real man to take care of it.” Fuck, how had his voice dropped an entire octave? It was coming out as more of a low rumble, sexy and deep and delicious. The heat on your skin danced it’s way to your core, nestling in your tummy in a way that made your insides squirm.

“Fuck Bucky, I need it. Need you to t-treat me right.” You couldn’t even consider that he might be messing with you, so highly strung with need that it couldn’t even be a possibility. No, you needed this too badly now. Your fingers just wouldn’t compare to what you knew Bucky could offer.

“Fuck this is so wrong.” He hissed, hands fisting your bedsheets to hold himself back.

“Oh Buck, just once?” You suggested quietly, setting a hand on his clothed thigh. His eyes scrunched tightly shut at the contact, willing himself not to look. Not to feel you touching him. Your hand looked so tiny on his leg and you just wished he would open his eyes to see it.

“Careful angel, you don’t wanna do this.” He couldn’t bear to look at you. He couldn’t let himself. He knew that when the dam inside him burst, there would be no going back.

“Oh but I do Bucky. Wanted to do this for years.” His resolve was weakening, his huge frame almost trembling at the thought of being buried so deep in your tight little body.

“Baby, it’s so wrong.” He was losing it as your fingertips trailed higher up his thigh. He could tell you had shifted closer without having to look at you, your breath tickling his neck from how close you were. He could smell your shampoo and your perfume but most of all, he could feel your confidence that was now seeping out of every pore, clearly emboldened by seeing the effect you were having on him and fuck, did he find it sexy.

“You know what’s ‘wrong’ Buck? How long it’s been since a man fucked me right. Bet you could change that though, couldn’t you? Bet you could make me feel so good. Two of my little fingers just don’t fill me the way I know you could. Such a tight squeeze, you have no idea. So warm and wet Buck, bet even you would struggle to last.” Where in the hell was all this confidence coming from? Half of you didn’t even care and after hearing the growl that came from Bucky, you knew he was loving it as much as you were.

“Oh fuck honey, you can’t say shit like that. Can’t fuckin’ handle it. Makes me wonder how filthy that little mouth can get.” His breathing was heavy and irregular, leaning into your lips on his neck, eyes still squeezed firmly shut.

“You wanna find out Buck? Wanna find out how good my mouth can make you feel?” Fuck he had lost it. The band inside him snapped, grabbing you by your thighs to pull you messily onto his lap, his lips on yours in an instant. There was no finesse or practice to it, just two people, consumed by need, trying to relieve some tension but finding that making out had the exact opposite effect. You were both only becoming needier. Huge hands wandered over your body, the kiss becoming fiercer and more intense, fingers gripping hungrily at any exposed skin either of you could reach.

“Jesus, oh Bucky.” The little cry had slipped from your lips, muffled by Bucky’s own lips on yours.

“Oh god angel, we shouldn’t be doin’ this.” Bucky hissed quietly, removing his shirt nonetheless. He was so keen he could hardly keep up with himself but his head still told him he shouldn’t want this as much as he did.

“Do you wanna stop? Too old to keep up with me?” You teased him with a flirtatious roll of your hips over his crotch and you could’ve swore you heard an actual growl leave his throat.

“Was thinkin’ that for your sake angel. Don’t think you’ll handle what I’m gonna make you feel. You won’t want anyone but me to touch you ever again. You ready for that honey? For your own fingers to not be able to give you the same relief I can?” God it all sounded so appealing falling from his mouth, his tone laced with nothing but sex.

The mewl that left your body was borderline embarrassing, Bucky gripping the hem of your dress and pulling it over your head in one swift motion. He hadn’t expected that one action to leave you bare in front of him. He could feel his mouth hanging open, drinking in the sight of you in his lap. The swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the endless expanse of soft skin, begging to be kissed and held and loved before you pressed your lips hungrily to his, working to rid him of his jeans as quickly as possible.

“You’re fuckin’. Beautiful.” Bucky could only gasp the words out between kisses, both his hands charting a path up your naked body after you slotted comfortably onto his lap again. The skin on skin felt incredible, not to mention his cock lying between his legs, heavy and thick and begging for attention.

“Wanna be selfish for a second Buck.” You whispered, pushing him back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help yourself, reaching between your bodies, pressing his thick length flush with his tummy before spreading your slick folds, setting yourself down on his bare dick. A strangled cry left the large man as you rocked yourself back and forth, spreading your arousal over him.

Your clit dragged over his sensitive head, pulling a groan from both of you. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding your movements and fuck, you looked like a goddess above him, breathy sighs slipping from you, using his body for your own pleasure.

There was something about it, seeing you so bold and confident, taking what you needed from him that made him even harder.

“Oh God, Bucky.” You whined, pressing yourself down harder ever so slightly.

“That’s it angel, keep goin’. Fuck you’re just gettin’ wetter. You look so pretty like this, ruttin’ on my cock. That smart little brain just turned to mush now you’ve got a nice big cock to play with? All that education but your pretty little head just stops workin’ when you needa cum, is that it?” You didn’t expect Bucky to be so vulgar in bed, especially not with you but you were loving it.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You gasped, taking in his lazy smirk as you worked yourself on him.

“Think you could cum like this honey? Or do you wanna come sit on my face for me?” His words pulled a gasp from you because yes, you really did want to sit on his face. How could you refuse an offer like that?

So you shuffled up the bed, settling on Bucky’s face.

“Put your weight on me honey, I won’t break.” Bucky laughed, noticing how you couldn’t possibly be comfortable just hovering above his face. Pressing down a little more, he chuckled at how you were still reluctant to put your whole weight on him.

“Like this, angel.” He smiled before gripping your thighs to press you the whole way down on him, beginning to lap at your pussy with long, broad strokes of his tongue.

Fuck, his tongue worked miracles, slipping between your folds while his nose nuzzled your clit. You’d never been eaten so intensely before, whimpers escaping you while Bucky sucked and licked and bit at the most sensitive part of your body.

When his lips connected with your clit, you almost wanted to squirm away from the insane amount of stimulation. His lips wrapped around the swollen bud, tongue flicking over it while he moaned sinfully, holding you against his mouth with one arm wrapped around each of your thighs. There was no escaping his mouth, hot and wet and trained only on driving you into blinding pleasure. Your hands fisted in his hair, helping you to ride his face while Bucky devoured you.

The knot in your tummy was tightening, fuelled by Bucky’s moans.

You were so close, curses and pants of Bucky’s name spilling from you like a prayer and when Bucky’s eyes opened, looking up at you, a content hum left his throat.

That hum shattered you, the vibration on your clit driving you over the edge and if Bucky thought you looked like a goddess before, you certainly did now. He completely admired you, taking in how your back arched, how your head flung back, hips grinding against his face while one hand left his hair to tease your own nipples and God, that cry of his name made his cock throb painfully.

“Oh oh, Bucky please.” You whimpered, struggling in his grip when your body told you he had given you too much.

“You sound so sexy when you beg, you know that?” Bucky smirked, letting you go so you could pull yourself from his face, tumbling on the bed.

“Not just as sexy as you sound when you cum, but close.” His dusting of stubble was shiny with your slick and you struggled to think of a more attractive sight than this beautiful man that had effortlessly dragged an orgasm from you, lazily stroking his own cock to the sight of you naked in front of him.

“I can do both for you if you want. I’ll gladly beg you to make me cum like that again.” One orgasm like that couldn’t satisfy you, not now that you’d had a taste of real pleasure. Besides, you hadn’t even had a chance to feel his cock inside you yet.

“Shit angel, I’d love that, havin’ such a sweet girl on her knees beggin’ for me. Fuck, you might be the death of me, you know that?” Bucky fisted his cock a little faster at the thought up until you shuffled off the bed and onto the floor, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His eyes went wide as you looked up at him expectantly, perching himself on the edge of the bed to watch you.

“Is this what you want, angel?” He cooed softly, not taking his eyes off you. You couldn’t tear your attention away from his swollen tip, head slick with precum, begging to be lapped up.

“Please Bucky, please lemme take care of you.” You whispered, offering him huge wide eyes and plump lips, longing to be parted by his dick.

“You can do better than that honey. If you want this, you gotta earn it. Ask a bit nicer.” He had every right to be so cocky after eating you like that so you indulged him a little.

“Please Bucky, can’t think of anything else. Needa feel you.” You whined. “Just lemme taste you Bucky, please, thought about this for so long. Thought about gagging on your cock like a good girl, thought about you fucking my face.”

“And did you touch yourself while you thought of me?” Bucky asked, leaning back on the arm that wasn’t stroking his cock, giving you a chance to take in his tight abs.

The shame almost make you feel light headed, admitting to your deepest secret. The fact you touch yourself to thoughts of your father's best friend.

“Good girl. This pussy belongs to me now, okay? You feel like touching yourself, you text me.” Want and burning need surged inside you at Bucky’s promise of this little arrangement continuing but you almost lost it when he leaned forward, pressing a hand to the back of your head, guiding you over and onto his cock. Your lips parted and wrapped around him of their own accord, letting him slip into your mouth. The slightly salty taste of his precum made you throb, your tongue running over his slit, collecting every last drop.

“Oh Jesus.” Bucky managed to hiss, one of your hands wrapping around the base while you forced your head down further.

“Where did you learn this shit angel? Fuckin’ filthy, you know that? Thought you wanted to be a good girl but this mouth says otherwise. All mine now though, aren’t ya? This mouth only sucks my cock from now on.” You hummed in approval, dragging another hiss from Bucky, thrusting himself deeper into your throat.

You pressed your head down until he hit the back of your throat and God, the strangled cry that left him was pornographic, low and wanton and pained, like he was holding himself back, trying so hard not to fuck your face recklessly.

“Feel so good baby.” He whimpered, pressing you down until you gagged around him. The noise, coupled with the sudden tightening made him almost sob, a loud grunt from him inspiring you to work your hand faster on his base.

“Oh fuck, I can’t take much more angel, ‘m so close.” He whimpered, thighs trembling, ready to paint the back of your throat at any second. You sped up your movements, bobbing your head in time with your hand, tight and sloppy and noisy before Bucky pulled you off him, squeezing his hand tight around his own base.

“Can’t cum yet baby, fuck, needa feel that pussy first. Know you needa be taken care of.” You certainly weren’t going to argue with that. When he was sure he had held off his orgasm, he let go of his cock, arranging you on your hands and knees on the edge of the bed, stepping up behind you. His dick pressed to your entrance, gathering slick until he slowly began to press himself into you, inch by inch.

“God, you’re big.” You whimpered, fingers gripping the sheets, arching your back to allow him to push in with less resistance.

“Fuck, feels good. God, can’t believe I’m fuckin’ inside you. Can’t believe a sweet little thing like you is so cock obsessed. Gotta say, I’m lovin’ this side of you honey. Even letting me fuck you raw? This little pussy jus’ wants to be filled. It's okay, I’ll fill you up nicely.” He had sank the whole way into you, allowing you a few seconds to adjust to the stretch before you took charge and began to move, inching forward, then back onto his cock, almost hoping he wouldn’t notice how needy you were.

“You're that horny? Can’t even wait for me to fuck you so you gotta do it yourself?” His tone was condescending, almost dripping with pride that he had reduced you to such a mess so quickly.

“Bucky, so fuckin’ horny, please. Please give it to me. Just fuck me.” You couldn’t have possibly cared that you sounded like a whiney mess. It didn’t matter that you sounded obsessed, all that mattered was feeling Bucky finally start to move.

“Oh kitten, you’ve gone all cock drunk on me? Silly brain can’t think of anythin’ but cummin’ round me. That’s okay, guess I can forgive you this time. You were so worked up earlier after all, seein’ me with someone else. All yours now honey. Gotta make this pretty pussy feel special.” Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when he gripped your hips and pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you again, beginning to set a decent pace.

You hadn’t expected his cock to pound your g-spot right away but you guessed it helped to be with a man who knew what he was looking for, unlike anyone you’d been with before.

“R-right there Bucky, oh fuck, I can’t.” You whined, keening against the bed so he could press painfully deep inside you with each thrust.

“You can’t what honey? Can’t handle it? Can’t get enough? Can’t hold back?” His suggestions all came in that confident tone because he knew you couldn’t answer. He was fucking you senseless, each thrust driving every thought from your head.

“Can’t hold back, fuck.” You whimpered, knowing your orgasm would be seconds away. But on the next thrust, everything stopped. Bucky didn’t push back in, sinking to his knees instead with a groan, level with your pussy. Two fingers slipped effortlessly inside you, curling in a way that you could hardly handle while his lips sucked your clit. You were done for, pussy clenching around his digits while the dragged you through your high, tongue lapping at your clit for all he was worth. You were gushing on his face, you knew it and you didn’t care, mumbling little ‘thank yous’ and praises as you rode out your high. You could hear the slick noises of Bucky fisting his cock in his other hand, tight and relentless, still wet from your body.

“Good girl honey, bet that felt good.” He whispered when your high had ebbed away, pressing his cock back inside you, fucking you fiercely once more. The wet sounds of his thrusts into you were horrendously loud but then again, so were his grunts as he chased his own release. You were on cloud nine, feeling fucked out and euphoric but delighted that Bucky still wanted to finish inside you.

“Cum for me Bucky, please please fill me up. Wanna feel it. Wanna feel your cum leakin’ out of me.” You knew he would love it if you used a little pleading tone but you didn’t realise just how effective it would be. A few more hard thrusts had Bucky’s hips stuttering, cum spilling inside you. The groan that left Bucky was mesmerising, clinging to your body while he spilled his seed inside you.

“Jesus I don’t remember the last time I came that hard.” Bucky murmured in more of a relaxed chuckle, kissing down your spine before pulling out of you slowly, grabbing a washcloth from your dresser so you could clean yourself up.

“I’ve never cum that hard before.” You giggled gleefully, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, still faintly tasting yourself on them.

“We should get back to the party but we should do this again sometime. I meant what I said honey, you’re mine now.” It was such a change seeing Bucky so sheepish but it was quite pleasant at the same time. You didn’t even know this side of him existed up until now.

“And you’re… Mine?” You questioned softly after pulling your dress on again, straightening it out as much as possible.

“All yours angel. Maybe we shouldn’t be too open ‘bout it just yet though.” He laughed, admiring the little flush on your cheeks and the twinkle in your eye.

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rabbit-reveries · 3 years ago

Text

—𝑻ruth or Dare pt2

Warning: mentions of drinking and smoking, smut MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 4200

Characters: Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, Cedric Diggory (who is alive and an 8th year the same time as the others bcus I said so), Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Fem!Reader

Second part of my Truth of Dare fic (first part here)

The kiss is broken, and Pansy grins, something feline, glowing, in the way her lips curl, lipstick smudged. “That didn’t seem like a no either.”

Hermione’s face is brightly colored in the spirit of her house, eyes wide as she stares at Pansy as if the girl had lost her mind. “You’re taking this a bit too far, don’t you think?” you say, trying to voice some reason, an embarrassed laugh escaping your lips, expression a bit too much like the Gryffindor’s for the Slytherin’s taste.

“Oh, c’mon, we’re graduating! We’re probably only gonna see each other once in a blue moon, and then we’ll start making excuses to meet even less frequently. Sorry if I want to solve the tension before we’re forced to go into the ‘real world’. Besides, it was Diggory’s idea.”

“I just said it was a fantasy. It was hardly a suggestion.” the Hufflepuff on your back chimes in, tone defensive, hands stiff in your lap. A pause and he trails off, inching his finger closer to your leg, tentatively caressing your thigh “...But if it were to happen… I wouldn’t not be into it.”

“See?”

Your gaze floats through the group, different shades of disbelief and blush on each face. They are, you have to admit, a gorgeous group of faces. And a gorgeous group of bodies. Turning to look into Pansy’s acid green eyes, you are left with the question she’d asked Hermione: ‘Is there a single person in this room you would mind getting intimate with?’. When you stop to think about it, no. There isn’t.

“I… I also don’t think I would not be into it...”

Eyes burn on every angle, they’re all staring, picking apart the way you toy with your skirt. You can’t possibly be seriously considering an orgy, right? No, you can’t… But you are. And the thought keeps getting more and more attractive. You’d always had a crush on Cedric, and also on Pansy, and also on Hermione, and… Well, you’d always had a crush on all of them. What is a girl supposed to do when they all bring different things to the table? Ron’s so adorable, and Harry’s so fun to hang out with! Cedric’s so perfect you can’t even begin to describe. Hermione’s so intelligent, she makes you want to try harder. Draco has this special little something that makes you want to take care of him, and Pansy’s got that something that makes you want her to take care of you.

“I’d quite enjoy it, I think. If all of you were fine with it.” you say, some more courage in your voice.

Pansy seems pleased at that, and grins your way, looking you up and down. “That is a pleasant surprise! Ferret, are you joining? You’re already half naked anyway. And if I remember it correctly, I did say your name earlier… By accident, of course.”

The boy gets up from the loveseat and takes off his jeans, face livid as he pulls down the fabric to reveal white boxers. “I hate you.” He picks it up to throw it on Pansy’s face. “Never done humiliating me, are you?”

“Don’t say that.” she says, a mock frown on her face. “What is it, baby? Getting fussy?”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“You like ‘ferret’ better? I could always call you by your name, too… But I fear you’re running out of items to strip.”

“Shut up.”

Pansy laughs at the angered expression he wears but extends a hand for him to hold. “Alright, alright, I’m done teasing. The question remains the same, though. Are you joining us?”

He seems to hesitate, but ultimately places his hand on hers and sits down again. The girl grins.

“That’s my best friend.”

You can feel Cedric turning to the group of Gryffindors. “What about you three? Are you in?”

“I’m in.” Harry says, giving the Hufflepuff a serious nod. Ron blushes and mumbles “Whatever, I guess…”, leaving the final say with Hermione. Her gaze travels between the faces in the group, face scarlet, but, after many reprimands, finally gives in to the idea. “I don’t think I have an option, do I?”

“You do, actually. We’d never force you to do anything you didn’t wan-” you begin, but she shushes you.

“I don’t have a choice.” states the Gryffindor. “Well, then how do we begin? Are we supposed to undress now?”

You look at Pansy, expecting an answer. It was her idea, not yours.

“What? You think I know? I’ve never been in an orgy before.” she says as if reading your mind. “But I guess we could start how we’d usually do when going to bed with someone. No one here is a virgin, right?”

You look around the room. Some shake their head, some simply stare at her, waiting for the Slytherin girl to continue.

“Well, then. Potter, can you come here? You seemed awfully eager to make out with Ferret a few moments ago.”

“I wouldn’t say eager-”

“Merlin’s beard, just kiss the man!” Pansy cuts him off. “We don’t have time for you two to play cat and mouse. This is hardly the first time you two hook up.”

Draco turns to her, mouth agape. “You knew?!”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course I knew, you idiot. Now get on with it.”

Harry and Draco stare at each other for a second, and you observe, Cedric’s hands on your lap toying with your own. The Gryffindor inches closer to the other boy, and soon enough he’s straddling the blond. “Well, that’s a start!” you chuckle, turning to the boy behind you.

“It is. I suppose we should get started as well?”

Your cheeks heat up under his playful gaze, but you can’t deny the excitement bubbling at the bottom of your stomach. You nod and lean towards him, offering your mouth for the Hufflepuff to take, and he does. The rumors were every bit right, you think. He is a marvelous kisser, just the right amount of tongue exploring you. One of your hands cradle his face, the other resting above his own on your lap.

So lost in the kiss, you can’t help but feel startled by another mouth on you. You pull back, only to find Parkinson kneeling on the floor in front of you, lips attached to your neck.

“You didn’t think I’d be left out of the fun, did you?” says the girl, and you turn to realize everyone paired off, except for Pansy. Draco and Harry, Ron and Hermione, you and Cedric.

“Obviously not.” you laugh and kiss her lips. The boy behind you attends to your throat, the way the girl previously did. Fingers weaving through strands of pit black hair, you pull Pansy closer, her own hands gripping tight on your waist. Just before you get out of breath, she pulls back and moves on to make out with Cedric.

You breathe heavily, making use of the small break to watch, barely able to believe the scene before your eyes. To your right, Harry is still straddling Draco, furiously lapping at each other’s mouth as if competing to see who could kiss more fiercely. To your left, Ron is half laid on the loveseat couch, Hermione on top of his body, hands making quick work of his button-up flannel shirt. Almost in a timid manner, you paw at Cedric’s leg, and he breaks the kiss to look at you.

“What is it, sunshine?”

“I… I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.”

“It’s rather simple, actually. Just do whatever you want.” Pansy chimes in, lips swollen, hair messy, and lipstick long gone. You think she’s never looked quite so beautiful.

Without much thought, you pounce on her and capture her mouth. Her hands land immediately on your shoulders, squeezing them and pulling you closer, so close you two almost fall on the black and yellow rug. Both of you giggle. “Oops!” you yelp drunkenly before diving back to attach your lips. Cedric sucks on your neck, pulls your blouse to allow himself access to your shoulder, and bites there. Unable to stop yourself, you moan into Pansy’s mouth.

“Such a pretty sound…” the boy hums, pressing a peck to the dents his teeth made of your skin. You pull back from the kiss, breathless. Instead of switching focus to each other as they’d done before, the pair of students eyes you, a silent agreement is made between them, and they begin to pull on your top. You don’t have time to object, your bra gone in seconds, left half-naked before the two before you have time to process their wicked glances.

“Oi! It isn’t fair to gang up on me!” you say, trying to hide your breasts as best as you can, laughter filling the room.

Cedric nuzzles at your neck, big warm hands covering yours on top of your chest, giving it a tentative squeeze. “And you think it’s fair to keep this beautiful body of yours hidden for this long?”

You blush. It is silly, you know, being in a literal orgy with childhood friends, but you can’t exactly stop the blood from rushing to your ears. Eyes looking for something lost in the intricate design of the rug under you, you only take notice of Pansy when her hands snake up your thigh.

“Can I take off your skirt?”

Taken aback by her gaze, you bite your lip and nod. The boy whose lap you sit on takes his hands off of you, making you miss his touch on the few seconds he takes to find and undo your zipper. The Slytherin pulls the skirt down your legs, and for a second you think she’s gonna take your knickers with it. She doesn’t, leaning in to kiss you instead. Cedric toying with your breasts and Pansy lapping at your last bit of common sense, your head begins to spin, arousal pooling at the pit of your stomach. Unable to hold back, you whimper, helplessly moving your hips, looking for some friction.

“Needy, isn’t she?” Parkinson pulls back just to giggle. She grabs your face by the chin and plants a peck on your lips. “Our little Y/N… So adorable! Don’t you agree, pretty boy?” she says, forcing you to turn and face Hufflepuff’s golden student.

“Absolutely. I think I could eat her up!” he smirks. It’s the first time in the entirety of your relationship you don’t feel protected by his glare, catching sight of some unknown glint of greed, thrill, sin. It makes you weak in the knees.

“Me too. It’s a shame, though…” begins the girl, and you do your best to shift your gaze to her. “I think we’ve hogged her enough.”

“How so?” asks Cedric.

“It’s time to switch pairs.”

Your eyes travel to the other four people in the room. Harry is shirtless, griding on Malfoy’s lap as they continue their ferocious game of the battle of tongues, and the blond fills the room with small groans and whimpers. On the other loveseat, Ron is completely naked with Hermione on top of him, the Gryffindor know-it-all riding the length of his cock with everything she has. She moans every now and then, very much enjoying herself, you see. She is quieter than Ron, though, who holds her by the hip, fingers sure to leave marks with how hard he grips at her. Impressive, you think, watching the two.

“You sure you wanna intrude on them?” you ask. In your imagination, Hermione slaps you for even getting too close to her. You still can’t believe she even agreed on participating in the first place, even if now she seems to be having fun. Before you can say more, Pansy has gotten up and is standing behind the black-haired Gryffindor. She taps his shoulder and whispers something in his ear, and he gets up from Draco’s lap.

You watch as the Slytherin girl kneels to the ground and pulls down the white boxers her housemate wears. “Draco is bigger than I thought.” you muse, eyes glued on the boy’s member. It is, as you said, bigger than you imagined, although thinner too.

“It’s alright.” says Harry, shrugging. You didn’t even realize he sat next to you on the ground. Before everyone in the room, Pansy takes Draco inside her mouth. “She knows what she’s doing, doesn’t she?”

You nod. “Apparently.”

“I heard she lost her virginity with Draco. They’ve been together for a long time, it’s only natural they know each other’s body like this.” Cedric points out. You’d almost forgotten about him with Pansy and her little show.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I heard the same.” Harry nods. “Hey, Parkinson, is it true you lost your virginity to Malfoy?” he questions, tone raised a bit. You slap his arm.

“Potter!”

Parkinson stops what she’s doing, turning to eye the Gryffindor with a look you can’t quite place. She then smiles and answers the question like it’s the most normal thing to ask someone. Considering you are about to have sex with each other and watch each other have sex, though, you’re not quite sure what social rules apply and what don’t. Maybe it is normal in situations like these. “Yeah, in fourth year, I think.” says the girl, immediately going back to her former activity.

That’s… mildly concerning, you think to yourself, but the green-eyed boy in front of you doesn’t let the thoughts linger too long, pulling you in for a kiss. Startled but definitely into it, you close your eyes after a quick second and deepen the connection between the two of you. Harry’s kiss is sloppier than Cedric’s, you notice. Less practice, more passion… You’re not mad at it. You respond in kind, pouring heat into the exchange, hands roaming his body and nails scratching his skin.

You break the kiss, a smile playing on your lips as you motion for the two boys to continue between them. Potter wastes no time, pulling Cedric by the collar of his shirt, only pulling back for a split second, a strategic retreat meant to get the Hufflepuff out of his clothes. He gets up to undress his trousers, and you, far less shy than you were in the begging of the night, seize his hands so you can do their job for them.

Potter’s dick stands proudly in front of you, red tip and veiny length. Cedric, by his side, is for sure bigger, the image of the “perfect penis”, if such a thing exists, if not a bit bent to the side. You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips. Kneeling up, you wrap one hand over each of the boy’s shafts and give them a coy pump. One, two, and you can’t resist anymore. You open your mouth to give a tentative lick to the head of Cedric’s cock, focusing on that specific part for a couple of moments, hand never stopping its work on The Chosen One.

You lick the sides of his member, properly covering it in saliva to use as a lubricant. Your right hand begins to stroke him, and you turn to Harry’s thing, pressing a playful kiss to the head. Cedric laughs. “How come he gets a kiss and I don’t?” says he, wrapping a hand on strands of your hair and pulling on them delicately.

“Are you jealous? In an orgy?”

“I’m not saying I’m not.”

“Hm. Why don’t you two kiss to get back at me?” you suggest, biting your lip.

To your delight, the Hufflepuff accepts your suggestion and turns to make out with the other boy. You then go back to what you were meant to be doing - giving head to two of the boys you crushed on since forever. Doing the same as you did with Cedric, you lick the sides of Potter, paying extra attention to the veiny bits, hand never stopping on the other boy. Back to the head, you suck on it for a few seconds before beginning to try and take him deeper. At first, you struggle a little, gag reflex attempting to stop you from reaching your full potential. With a little bit of patience, though, you manage to work through it, the Gryffindor gently using your hair to guide you.

He throws his head back and moans your name softly, the sound making you swallow around him. Before he can lose his composure, which you are sure wouldn’t take long to happen, you disconnect your lips from his member.

“Your turn, pretty boy.” you giggle, looking up at Cedric. His eyes darken up a bit at the teasing nickname.

“I thought you didn’t play Parkinson’s games.”

You search for the girl, finding her in the exact same spot as she was when you last saw her - on her knees as Draco messily fucks her throat. “I don’t know, her game seems pretty fun now.” you lick the tip of his dick at that, a daring look on your eyes. The boy has no time to retort as you throw caution to the wind and attempt to take him deep. It is hard, you have to admit, and it isn’t just once you think you’re a second away from choking on him. It doesn’t help how fast he lost the kind façade and began to roughly push you closer to his pelvis.

Potter never stops watching the two of you, hand enveloping your own to guide you into pumping him faster. Your head is spinning with alcohol and oxygen shortage, your hand exhausted from repeating the same motion when Harry stammers.

“I’m- I’m close.”

Cedric throws his head back, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Merlin… I don’t think I’m far behind, mate.”

Hearing that, you begin to work faster, passionately moving to satisfy both. Cedric didn’t lie when he said he wasn’t far, you think, as he came first, salty ropes of cum on your mouth, dripping down your chin and chest. Potter follows suit a short moment after, spilling himself on top of Cedric’s semen.

The three of you breathe heavily, and you feel content with being able to bring pleasure to both boys. They look absolutely dreamy as they are in this moment, faces flushed and with dazy expressions. Still, you can’t help but feel a bit neglected.

“That was… Amazing. Fuck!” Potter exclaims, sitting on the floor. “Thank you, Y/N. Best handjob/blowjob I’ve ever gotten.”

“She’s good at it, isn’t she?” Cedric says, still standing up. He pets your hair warmly, playfully tugging at a strand. “Makes me wonder who she’s been practicing with.”

You smile. “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

“Cheeky, are we?”

You giggle and lean towards his touch, which travels to cup your face. He caresses you, a fond look in the grey-blue of his eyes as he gets down to press a soft kiss to your lips. It quickly becomes quite passionate, with him pulling you to his lap. You turn to look for Harry, but find him with Pansy and Draco, the trio getting themselves in a rather complicated position.

“What do you think they’re going to do?” you ask.

“I have no idea…” answers Cedric. “Is Harry trying to…?”

“I don’t know. I’m already impressed he managed to get hard again this quick.”

You peel your eyes off the three, going against your morbid curiosity, and properly climb on the Hufflepuff’s lap. Attention back to the man in front of you, he wastes no time waiting to kiss you with hunger. You lose yourself in the kiss, nails drawing red lines in his skin, leaving dents here and there. He holds you by the neck, applying the littlest bit of pressure there, and making your already loopy train of thought completely lose the tracks. With the hand that doesn’t squeeze your throat, he roams your body, exploring every curve now he doesn’t have to share you with anyone else.

You melt under his touch, whimpers and soft moans scaping your mouth as you grow needier and needier. Finally, as if hearing your prayers, his fingers find the lacy hem of your knickers. “Can I?” asks the boy.

“Of course.”

Consent is clearly stated, he gives your mouth a soft peck and presses kisses from your cheek to your ear, from your ear to your neck, from your neck to your chest, and only stops when he has a nipple between his teeth. His fingers graze the fabric of your underwear, a little clumsy as they pull it to the side and begin to trace circles around your entrance. You grind on his hand, eyes closed, searching for some friction.

“You’re needy, aren’t you?” he chuckles.

You open your eyes only to glare at him. “Shut up, Diggory. You already came - on my mouth, might I add, you can’t tell me anything when I’ve still got your cum on my face.”

He stares at you for a moment, his hand still working on you, and can’t help but laugh. “That’s- That’s true, Y/N, I’m sorry. It’s a bit hot, actually, now that you mention it…” Green-blue orbs trace your face, your swollen lips, chin, and chest, where he can still see some of the traces left by Potter and himself. The look he gives you is nothing short of hungry, and, just like that, he’s back to attacking your mouth, one finger plunging into your core.

“...!” you yelp, shocked by the intrusion. You’re not mad at it, though, and kiss Cedric back with what you can to match the energy. Rocking your hips on his hand, you give him a wordless go-ahead to add another digit to the equation. It feels good to be full, but it isn’t nearly enough when you can feel his erection on your ass. Gasping for air, you pull away. “Ced…”

“What is it, beautiful?” he asks, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face.

“I want you inside me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He smirks and pulls his hand off of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact. To your satisfaction, however, he soon puts it to use by pushing the fabric of your knickers out of the way, presenting your cunt to the head of his cock. You gasp, still sat on his lap, and lower yourself down the length of his dick the tiniest bit. You’d be lying if you said you’d never fantasized about doing this… And now you are doing it, with all your closest friends there to witness the joyous occasion. Not that they’re paying much attention to you - they’ve got their own stuff going on.

Slow and steady, you soon have all of Cedric inside of you. It feels amazing to be this full, your chest rising against his as you wait till you feel ready to start moving. He caresses your face and kisses you tenderly, so softly you almost forget for a moment that you’re in a room full of people. It is just the two of you.

…Until you hear Hermione’s scream of pleasure, bringing you back to reality.

“They’re on the second round, aren’t they?” you muse.

“Yeah, I think so. You’d imagine they’d try other people since this is… Well, group sex. But they sure seem to be enjoying themselves.” says Diggory.

Sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mixed with curses and loud moans. You laugh, the situation downing on you. It is a bit comic if you think about it… At least to your drunk and high self, that is. Shaking your head with amusement, you begin moving rather timidly, Cedric’s hands on your hips guiding them. If the others are enjoying themselves, so are you. His heavy breath on your ear, face hidden on the crook of your neck, you let yourself be held by Hufflepuff’s golden boy, and relish in the heat his body provides. Beside yourself, your movements speed up, flesh looking for relief.

He groans your name, fingers digging on your waist. Again, he bites on your shoulder. You whimper because of the pain, a moan you’d been holding back leaving your lips with it. His hand goes to your throat, holding it. The dark thing in his eyes is back, you realize, as he kisses you once more.

“Say my name.” he orders.

“Cedric!” you all but yell.

He begins to thrust into you, deep and deeper. It hits just like it should, and the heat in the pit of your stomach grows big enough to swallow you. You can tell this is Cedric’s effort to make you cum as soon as possible because he won’t last much longer. It doesn’t take that much time for his pace to turn erratic.

“Are you gonna cum?” you ask.

“I… Think so. What about you?”

“Not far… I want you to cum inside me.”

He groans as if those words alone were enough to drive him over the edge. You snake a hand down to your clit, flicking it to try and speed up the process. It works like magic, and you soon come undone on his cock.

#this got so long and i got tired #kinda meh #cedric diggory smut #hp smut #Harry Potter Smut #hp #ron weasley smut #cedric diggory x reader #pansy parkinson #pansy smut #pansy parkinson smut #draco malfoy smut #draco x pansy #harry potter x reader #pansy parkinson x reader #hermione granger smut #bunnie writes

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