dorothykelly01-blog

[whippedcloudsofcream]

It’s so funny talking to any Soulsborne game characters because they all act so high and mighty or sweet and shy, then the next time you see them they’re either dead or batshit insane.

[mxlktxa]

𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢 ‘𝘥𝘦𝘻’ 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦/𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

odessa ‘dez’ stone/junker queen, reader*

𝘤𝘸; 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘔𝘋𝘕𝘐!!!, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 (𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺/𝘣𝘶𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭(𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘦𝘵𝘤), 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 (𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 (𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, (𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧) 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯-𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘭, 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥

𝘸𝘤; 2.0��, 10.9𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Odessa and I lay in bed together with the blankets covering our exposed forms, smiling like fools as she held me in her arms like I never thought to leave her. Those beautiful brown eyes were glued to me as per usual and I couldn’t ask for more from her.

“Didn’t know your sounds could sound even prettier when I’m the one causing the mess down there instead of that stupid toy,” her words came out soft and sweet, though she was just eating me out, calling me such vile, filthy things and treating like some fuck toy she was willing to tear apart, “Gets me going too, y’know.”

“I bet it does, perhaps you’ll let me satisfy you the way you do me soon, yes?” I questioned, “I’m not the only one who needs to be taken care of, your Majesty,” I giggled at how she rolled her eyes at the name she’s earned, sitting up with my arm keeping the blanket against me, “I feel so bad not returning the favor.”

“Feel bad a bit longer, ya numpty, it ain’t happenin’,” Odessa shook her head, peeling the blanket away from me just so she could pull at my hips, dragging me onto her lap, “Besides, I wasn’t exactly done with ya just yet.”

I looked at her eyes which were glued to my bare cunt resting just on her thigh, that hungry look in her eye becoming so very obvious by the second. I pouted at her, shaking my head and lifting myself off.

“Not until you—,”

“I wasn’t askin’,” her tone was harsh and deep, eyes narrowing at my refusal to her ‘request’, “Get ‘t riding,” thigh jerking up into my clit, I gasped at the friction, already giving in and using her thigh to please myself, “Atta girl, good job, bunny.”

Every bump and curve on her muscular limb was enough to just get my mind racing let alone slowly get that tight feeling in my stomach going already. I loved it when she would just sit and watch me pleasure myself but the fact that she would just sit and chuckle whenever I would let a moan slip out made me wanna strangle her. If I could get her to walk in my shoes I would, but she won’t let me.

“Look at ya. You’d do anything I ask of you, and you look so fuckin’ pathetic doin’ so,” there it was, the shit-talking she always threw into our intimacy, “I can’t believe you’re still all wet for me, after everything we just did?” her hand came down on my waist, thumb rubbing small circles against my skin, “Talk to me, yeah?”

“M’gonna fuckin’ strangle you, Odessa,” I whined at her as the friction between her and I was getting to feel so blissful, “But I love you so,” I continued rocking my hips against her, throwing my head back just a bit, Odessa taking that as an invitation to place sweet kisses against me, thinking I wouldn’t notice the blade that came in contact with my stomach.

“What’s it like? Being the most beautiful woman in this world, huh? Then being treated like you’re nothing. Keep goin’. Just until you hit that little high note I love so much.”

“Yes, your majesty,” I chuckled through my little whimpers and whines. The tip of the blade was really nerve-wracking but such a turn-on, oddly enough. Being there and begging to break the skin but of course, this merciful being refused to let it do just that. I winced at the sudden biting that had commenced on my collar bones, hand retreating to her shoulders while a chuckle emitted from the Queen.

“M’gonna—, please, s—so close,” the knot in my stomach was almost unbearable, making me squeeze my legs around the one I had been grinding on, “Need you so bad.”

“And this is just the first stop,” a brutal strength clasped my hips, damn near forming the bruises that were meant to make an appearance later in the night, “I’m not lettin’ ya off easy at the start. You’ve got a little more screentime before the grand finale,” Odessa had ripped the blade from me and me off of her thigh, pushing me to the side so she could grab both my ankles to place them on her shoulders.

“Dez, please,” she looked at me with a nasty look, scoffing before ruthlessly inserting three fingers into my sopping cunt.

“Sing for me, darl, I need to hear that pretty little voice.”

“Eat shit, god, I hate you,” I cried, reaching down for her wrists to stop her. I suppose that set her off because she gave me a light slap before pointing a finger at me.

“Keep those hands to yourself. We don’t want nothin’ crazy goin’ on, now do we?” Odessa lowered her tone, fingers pumping faster now to draw more cries from me, “Atta girl. Behave yourself and we won’t have any trouble,” her shit-eating grin came into play as well as that stupid fucking blade again.

I could feel myself squeezing around her fingers as she curled her fingers inside all while increasing her pace, getting me close to finishing once more. I attempted to stop myself from showing any signs of doing so in order for me to get myself off. But, of course, she ripped her fingers from me, shaking her head.

“Dessa, please,” at this point I was ready to cry, voice cracking getting out of hand now, “What— what are you doing?” I sat up to see the tall muscular woman smirking at me as she lay down with a chuckle, “Dez?”

“C’mon, pretty girl,” her hands grazed her face so quickly, it was almost like it didn’t happen, “Sit up on your throne, yeah?”

“Oh, you’re gonna fucking get it,” I squealed in excitement, doing exactly as I was told to. I swung a leg over her to prop myself down on those pretty lips only to unleash a crazy moan mixed with a laugh. Her hands gripped my thighs, keeping me hoisted down and tongue swirling around like crazy, having a grand time, “Holy shit! Odessa, I love you, I love this, I love us!” I whined in the hot, humid air, both our nails digging into each other's thighs out of pleasure.

It was hard to do so smoothly, but my eyes traveled to her own bare cunt, mind trying to decide if I should rebel against her wishes of not pleasuring her or just do it as a huge ‘fuck you’. Can you guess which option I chose? Bet you can.

I started off easy, running my hand down her abs as a coverup. I didn’t wanna reveal what I was doing right off the bat. Her swirls and added moans made it so hard for me to really concentrate but I managed to surprise her with two fingers slipping into her, gaining a buck from her hips and a frustrated grunt. A sinister snicker came out of me, pumping my fingers in and out as fast as I could with a good rhythm, kissing her inner thighs every time she bucked into me.

“Doesn’t it just feel so good, Dezzy?” I questioned, leaning my chest flat on her abs to lower my lips down to her cunt, licking along her folds before sucking on that sensitive nub of hers, “Now, I wanna hear you sing,” at that time we were both just getting mouthfuls of each other, moaning and huffing, waiting to see who would come undone first.

We kept at this for about five minutes— of course, not continuously, both of us had a few breathers—, biting each other's legs every now and again, pinching or slapping, and lots of digging our nails into each other which drew blood here and there. I wasn’t a thousand percent sure, but Odessa seemed close to unraveling. She had to keep stopping herself from squeezing my head between her thighs, hips now moving relentlessly, and her grunts were mainly now cries of pleasure and a hitch in both action and breath.

Odessa muffled something into me, hands tapping on me as if to tap out and pause our little game. I quit my actions, lifting myself up and looking back at her, “Everything okay back there?” I giggled.

“Get on your back,” she snarled, an intimidating, hungry look and tone was used, my mind forcing me to oblige and quiet myself down, “You want me to finish with you so bad? We’re doin’ it my way.”

Finish? Had Odessa finally agreed to let me pleasure her? Even if it is in ‘her way’, I was just excited that I’d finally get to experience her lovely vocals and expressions when she’s got that little knot in her stomach snapping.

I supported myself on my own elbows, watching as she maneuvered herself to have both dripping cunts now in contact the slight friction making us both sigh in satisfaction. For a second, we both just stared at the predicament we were in before Odessa suddenly started grinding her hips into mine. I decided to compete with her, trying to grind harder rather than focus on speed.

Both bundles of nerves would clash together sending a nice shock throughout our bodies. Her whines turned back into huffs and swearing, running her hand to my thigh and chuckling, “I’m surprised you ain’t tried to punch me in the face, darl. I know how much ya hate when I edge ya,” she spoke with venom in her tone, like she was egging me to hit her.

“F—fuck you,” was all I could spit out, throwing my head back as I started feeling overstimulated and unsteady, “I just wanna—, fuck, yes, fuck! Dez, please! I’ve been good.”

“You? Good?” she barked out a laugh, panting and somehow pushing herself onto me even further, “You’re nothin’ but a little brat. All your little attitudes and unreasonable bickering don’t seem to be you on your best behavior, little rabbit.”

“You’ve been especially cruel! Leaving me in the middle of the night for some stupid raid! Not letting me know when you’re off to fight and then coming back nearly torn to shreds!” I argued back.

Odessa and I continued our altercation through occasional glares and trying to overpower one another. That only ended up with her winning and managing to get on top of me and pace herself. Tears were begging to be let out and we both grew louder and louder by the second, signaling we both were close to our euphoric highs.

The room was way too humid, and our skin was sticky from the combination of the sweat, humidity, and our own juices mixing together. That itty bitty tightness in my stomach had finally popped alongside Odessa’s, the room filled with such gorgeous moans and pants. But she didn’t stop there she kept going, getting every bit of satisfaction out of the both of us. I covered my mouth to muffle my cries as Odessa let her roars free.

“You filthy fuckin’ girl, what would you ever do without me, hm? Where would you be, what would you be doing if it weren’t for me?”

“Stop! Odessa, I can’t, I can’t, just stop it!” writhing beneath her only increased the overstimulation, “I’m done! Vanilla!” I cried out. Dez quit everything, hovering over me, plenty of kisses placed on my forehead while whispering a soft ‘I’m sorry' to me.

She lay next to me once more, holding me in her arms while still apologizing to me. Catching my breath, I curled into her, still whining and wincing.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

“Mm-mm, it’s my fault. I egged you on,” I muttered, “But earlier… I was truly complaining about you leaving me alone and coming back all bruised and beaten.”

“Figured. Suppose your attitudes and bickering are justified.”

Odessa and I were now silent, slowly drifting asleep without anything to cover us. Smiling like a fool, I hid my face in her chest, placing gentle kisses, “I love you, Dez.”

Her arms brought me impossibly closer, making me feel safe and happy, “I love you too. Ya pain the ass.”

[bajisbabe]

[author’s note] I rewrote this post THREE times...

# DON’T KNOW WHY I STILL TRY, SHE WONDERS WHY

“I don’t trust nobody, not even her.”

they accidentally hit you | Yandere!Mikey, Ran, Wakasa

warnings: accidental violence, brief mention of actual violence, implied kidnap, yandere, Mikey kicking reader, Ran hitting reader, Wakasa kicking reader.

anon said: “Request for a Yandere ran, Mickey and Wakasa where they accidentally hit you? Like they accidentally slap or kicked u too hard for any reason”

song: trust nobody, love nobody the same by sagun (feat. shiloh dynasty)

— is probably beating tf out of someone who thought they could get between you two; maybe someone who came to rescue you or tried to help you escape.

— he is about to end them with that legendary kick of his, but his foot catches your jaw because you thought it would be a great idea to jump in front of whoever Mikey is beefing with in a pathetic attempt to save their miserable life.

— and Mikey is able to slow the kick just enough so that you don’t get the full force, but you still get hit as it was far too late for him to stop when you suddenly jump in front of him like that.

— and you go flying.

— like you’re literally knocked off of your fucking feet.

— and he watches your body crumple on the floor as you land.

— you let out a lil’ yelp as you hit the ground.

— suddenly, he forgets all about the loser he’s beaten bloody and runs over to check on you.

— he kneels over you, tugging your limp body into his lap.

— he smooths back your hair, rubbing his thumbs over your temples as he softly calls your name.

— and when you don’t respond, he gets panicked and begins calling your name louder and louder until you answer with a groggy, “what?”

— he gets so angry at himself that he has to take it out on something, or rather someone.

— so he moves as though he is going to go back to kicking ass, but you weakly tug at his wrist and beg him not to.

— and he sees how weak and vulnerable you are at the moment, and how you’re begging him so sweetly for someone else’s life.

— he hesitates, but in the end, he gives up and leaves that person alone. even though he has already given them the beating of a lifetime.

— and he does his best to help you get somewhere safe where you can be treated without alerting the authorities of course.

— he feels really guilty about it and keeps apologizing.

— and if you ask him not to go after that person again, in this moment, when the guilt is eating him alive, he won’t.

— but only if you ask him now, while he still feels like shit about how things ended up.

— he’s not as smart as people give him credit for.

— he really is quite a brute.

— he swings on kids with bricks and batons in parking lots for fun.

— he is most likely testing out his new weapon, whatever it may be.

— maybe a brand new shiny, steel bat that’s sole purpose is to beat in the faces of anyone who tries to take you away from him.

— he had it custom made to ensure that it’s got the right weight to it.

— and he is just swinging it about when you happen to pop up out of nowhere.

— maybe you had heard all the swooshing and just wanted to see what was up.

— but you happen to come too close and Ran doesn’t even see you, having way too much fun testing out his new weapon.

— and Ran is just swinging, swinging, swinging.

— and then he turns and you’re right fucking there. but it’s too late to stop it.

— luckily enough for you, he is able to lift his hand just enough so that his fist hits you rather than the bat.

— but it still hurts.

— you’re not necessarily knocked off your feet, but you get hit and become dizzy.

— your legs give out and you fall to your knees, cheek aching.

— he immediately collapses to kneel in front of you, hands hovering in front of you.

— he’s too afraid to touch you. he thinks he might hurt you again.

— “sorry.” he blurts, mouth dry.

— this means a lot because Ran never apologizes.

— but he feels so fucking sorry.

— your eyes are glossy, your lower lip pulled between your teeth as you fight back tears.

— I don’t blame you. I KNOW that shit hurt 🤕

— “I’m sorry,” he blurts again. “Can I—is it okay if I—uhm, what do you want me to…?”

— He can’t figure out what to do or how to help you.

— he feels like shit, and he thinks you’re gonna hate him even more now.

— you just sniffle, taking a deep breath as you blink back tears.

— “can I… Is it okay if I…?” His hands jolt as though he’s trying to stop himself from touching you.

— he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to see you scared, or see you flinch.

— and you don’t really have much of a choice because he might have broken something in your face and you need some kind of help, so you take him up on his unsaid offer.

— you nod softly, swallowing a sob as your cheek aches painfully.

— he slowly tugs you into his arms, soothing his large hands over your back.

— he cups your face gently in his hands and tilts your face to get a better look.

— your eyes are stinging as he asks you where exactly it hurts.

— “Sorry,” he murmurs again. “I’ll get Rindou to check on you,” he says. “He’s good with medical shit.”

— actually thinks you look rather nice when crying but won’t mention it because he can read the room.

— coddles you and calls you all kinds of nicknames.

— “baby, I’m sorry.” / “it won’t happen again, sweetheart.” / “I didn’t mean to, honey.”

— sits there while Rindou patches you up, holding your hand (if you let him) and telling you that you’re doing so good whenever you clutch his hand hard or when you squeeze your eyes shut in pain.

— promises to buy you whatever you want to fix it.

— even if you insist that you don’t want anything, he’ll still get you something.

— probably still tells you that he’s sorry under his breath.

— he is so pressed about the situation that he doesn’t even use the shiny, steel bat he bought.

— it’s expensive and custom made, and he’s not gonna use it at all solely because he almost hit you with it.

— he thought you were someone else.

— when he heard someone creeping out of the hideout, he assumed it was an outsider who stumbled across the place and was trying to escape.

— and his reflexes are fast.

— so without thinking, he clocks you upside the head from behind.

— he most likely noticed that it was you he was about to hit but by then, it was too late to stop.

— but he doesn’t even try to hold back or slow the punch at all.

— he lets you take it full force.

— you are quite literally knocked off your fucking feet.

— and when you hit the ground, you’re gasping for air because you’re winded thanks to the impact of the fall.

— and he just peers over you, watching you with that resting bitch face of his.

— he doesn’t even apologize.

— he quietly asks you where you were going, knowing damn well you can’t respond because you cannot breathe.

— and he doesn’t help either.

— he just watches you sputter for air.

— your ribs could be broken.

— and if you get upset and scream about how he could have hurt you, he’ll just shrug and say that he pulled the kick so that you wouldn’t get hurt as bad.

— liar. 😔

— if you need any kind of patching up, he will help.

— but he will probably have something backhanded to say about how if you didn’t try to escape then this wouldn’t have happened.

— is a lil’ insensitive.

— your body is probably sore and aching and he doesn’t even care.

— might purposefully run his hands over the place where he knows it’ll hurt most just to watch your pretty face contort with subtle pain.

— might even take his fingers and dig them into the sensitive skin that suffered from the impact just to see if you’ll yell or cry.

— he finds you interesting and wants to see you make as many expressions as possible.

— expressions of pain are not excluded.

— would be a lil’ hurt if you flinched away from him after the whole ordeal.

— but he isn’t stupid, he could understand why you’d fear him. he just can’t find it in himself to care.

— not that he would intentionally hurt you.

— but if it happens, if happens 🤷🏾‍♀️

— might feel guilty if you show that you’re genuinely upset.

— if you want him to stop poking and prodding at your bruises, you’re gonna have to cry.

— he might go easy on you then, but that’s a might, not a will.

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

hey, sweetie! I came across your account and found your stories are utterly amazing! I can't get enough re-reading all over again; it's very very great! I was hoping if I could make a req? If only you don't mind!

Can you do the marauders (yes, prongs moony and padfoot) smut where they accidentally use degrading kink but the reader is hurt and she ended up crying because it makes her very insecure because she's nothing but just a fuck toy? I don't hate the idea of such kink but I'm not fond of being degraded even though it doesn't mean any harm. maybe they will praise her and cuddle until she's completely calm down. i really like fluff ending❤ thanks!

pairing(s): james potter x remus lupin x sirius black x reader (foursome) 

warning(s): 18+, foursome, double penetration, oral (male receiving), anal, degradation, praise, lots of cum, cute cuddles 

word count: 1.9k

a/n: oh my god. when i got this request i literally had to pause and reread it so many times because it sent me spiraling. too good. thank you for this because i know exactly what i’ll be daydreaming about for the next week! i’m the same way about degradation (i don’t want it unless i’m really in the mood) so i can totally relate. i just hope i did it justice. enjoy! 

“C’mon, puppy, sit right here like a good girl,” Sirius instructed, giving a pointed nod to his erect cock. He was lounging back on his bed, one hand propped behind his head, his raven hair wrapped up in a messy bun. He looked like a Greek God and he didn’t even have to try. 

You made your way up the bed, straddling his waist and hovering your core above him. You were already dripping wet with the anticipation of what these boys were about to do to you. You weren’t sure how it escalated to this point, but here you were. 

You were hovered above Sirius’ cock, Remus making his way up the bed behind you, and James was off to the side, stroking his cock and content with waiting until you were ready to take it. The night you four had planned was triple penetration to the ultimate proportions. 

You sunk down onto Sirius’ cock, feeling him stretch you and fill you so beautifully as he always did. All of their cocks were amazing, but Sirius’ was the perfect amount of thickness that you needed. 

“Fuck, you never stop being tight no matter how much we stretch you. Just the perfect little hole for us,” Sirius said roughly, his large hands coming to grip your hips and grind you down onto him, getting you settled on his cock. 

Remus was the next one with his hands on you, pushing you forward onto Sirius’ chest until you were completely exposed to him. He could see the spot where Sirius was entering your body, stretching you out completely, and he could see exactly where his own cock would be going - right into your tightest hole, already being stretched with a plug. 

He worked it out gently, all three of them listening to you whimper into Sirius’ neck as he pushed and pulled, teasing you, until he finally removed it. 

“That’s a good girl. Stay just like that and quiet to be our little toy,” James commented, reaching over to brush some hair out of your face. You keened at the attention, but his choice of words made you flush red with embarrassment. You knew logically you were more than just a hole or a toy for them, but hearing it made you question what their intentions were nonetheless. 

Next thing you knew, you could feel Remus’ cock at your entrance, slowly pushing in. It wasn’t as bad as you had expected, the boys had prepped you well, but the additional stretch and sting made you wince lightly despite your moan. 

Remus roughly grabbed your arms and pulled you back so your back hit his chest harshly as he bottomed out inside of you. You were now successfully taking both of their cocks which made your head spin with arousal, but his words sent you spiralling. 

“Oh don’t act like you’re in pain. That won’t work with us. We know you're just a filthy slut so you’ll take it like one,” Remus said, beginning to slowly roll his hips against your ass, forcing you to grind on Sirius’ cock in return. 

Regardless of how his words made you feel, you couldn’t stop the moan from falling out of your mouth, effectively proving him right. When you looked down at Sirius, you knew he could see the tears beginning to form in your eyes, but he disregarded it to begin thrusting up into you, your head falling back onto Remus’ shoulders. 

“Fuck she feels so good,” Sirius moaned. “Prongs, she’s ready for you,” he said, looking over to his messy haired friend. 

Once that was said, Remus released your arms and you had to flail to stay upright, clutching Sirius’s shoulder. You weren’t there for long before James grabbed a chuck of your hair from the root and pulled you down sideways, your mouth lining up with his cock. 

“Open,” was all he said, treating you indifferently. Something you were not used to and not a fan of. You did what he asked regardless though, hoping if you proved that you were good their attitudes would change. 

Once your mouth engulfed James, all three of them let out a moan in sync, getting off on the fact that all of them were inside of you at the same time. 

“Look at her,” Remus rumbled out, “just a filthy fucking whore taking all of us.” 

You whined around James’ cock in protest, but the vibration only made him moan and pull your head in further, your nose now flush up against his skin. A tear slipped down your face, both because of the urge to gag around James’ cock and because of their unexpected treatment of you. Sure they had degraded you before, but never this much, never all of them at once, and always mixed with praise. This was different and you didn’t like it. 

“Look at her,” James started with a breathless laugh, continuing to fuck your throat raw, “she’s even crying for it like the pathetic slut she is.” 

That’s what did it. That’s what had you pulling off of James with a sob, struggling for breath with tears pouring down your face. “Stop, please stop,” you begged quietly, praying that one of them believed you. 

Thinking back, you were all stupid to never have a safeword for these situations but nothing like this had ever come up before. They were always so good with reading you, knowing exactly what you needed. You weren’t sure what went wrong this time. 

Thankfully, James didn’t go to reach for you again and Sirius and Remus immediately stopped giving you the delicious friction they had been providing inside of you to turn towards your face. 

You collapsed against Sirius’ chest in a fit of sobs and he was quick to wrap his arms around you and pull you close. You could practically feel the panicked looks being passed between them, but they were all quick to jump into action. Remus was running his hand along your back, but he never pulled out, they knew how much you hated them pulling out before you were ready. You felt the bed dip and James sat down at Sirius’ side, a hand coming up to brush through your tangled hair. 

“What happened, love? What’s wrong?” Sirius asked softly, his lips brushing against your neck. 

“Too mean,” you whimpered out, not looking up at any of them. 

“We were being too mean to our sweet girl? You want us to be nice while you’re our good girl?” Remus asking, lips brushing your shoulder blade before he pressed a gentle kiss on your skin. 

“Please,” you said with a final shaky breath, looking up at the boys while your tears dried. 

“You sure you want to keep going?” James asked gently, his thumb coming up to brush the tears off of your face. 

“Please. Please, it felt so good,” you begging shamelessly, grinding down on Sirius and Remus’ cock for good measure, just to prove how much you wanted to keep going. 

“Fuck, okay okay,” Remus said, choking on a laugh when he felt how tight you were against him all over again. 

“Ride us just like that pretty girl. You’ve been so good for us all night. Letting us fuck you and strecth you like this. So good,” Sirius mused, really laying it on thick in his attempt to rectify his mistakes as he grabbed your hips harshly, overwhelmed with how tight you were. 

“You wanna use your mouth again, love? Or just your hand?” James asked, gently turning your face to his using a knuckle. 

You didn’t even reply, just bent over sideways once more and opened your mouth, tongue out. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” James said with a chuckle, gently working your mouth back onto his cock until he was lodged down your throat. 

They never stopped the rough treatment, but the words they were saying were affecting you so much differently now. Rather than making you question yourself and your place with them, they were making you feel so good and loved and safe. 

The way they were ravishing your body made you feel heavenly. The way Remus and and Sirius’ cocks were dragging in and out of you made your head spin and your core tighten, dangling on the edge just waiting to be tossed over. James’ cock down your throat gave you a fraction of power over at least one of them, knowing all of his pleasure was coming from your body. Truly, all of their pleasure was, but you were working hard for James. 

“Fuck you feel like a vice,” Remus groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he rolled his hips against you in a steady pace. You could feel the way him and Sirius’ cocks were dragging past each other through the thin walls inside your body, making you tremble with the thought of being so full of them. They were practically splitting you open, but oh what a way to go. “Let go for us, Y/N. Fuck, I can feel how close you are.” 

It didn’t take long after that. One, two, three more pumps from each of them and you were spiralling over the edge and into your release. You pulled away from James to let out your loud cry of relief and he readily took over to work his own cock, aiming it directly at your open mouth. In the rush of your release, you could feel yourself being filled with cum in all your holes. Warm rope after rope of cum gushed into your core and your mouth, completely filling you up from all angles. 

Being that full of their cum made you tremble, but you finally worked your way down from the clouds and collapsed against Sirius’ chest once more. 

It took all of you a minute to even feel coherent, but finally Remus was pulling out of you slowly. You could feel a rush of cum leave your body and trail down your thighs and onto the bed. You weren’t even sure whose bed you were on anymore. You whimpered at the feeling, both the unsatisfactory feeling of misplaced cum and the feeling of being empty after so long. 

Sirius went to pull out next, but you shook your head aggressively, needing to feel close to one of them after all of that. “Please don’t,” you begged softly, unable to give him a reason at the moment. You were a mixture of overwhelmed and still in a comedown, you just needed to be close. 

“Alright, don’t worry. You can stay here as long as you’d like puppy,” Sirius told you, shifting so the both of you were laying on your sides, getting you comfortable on the bed beside him. James crawled into the bed behind you, and Remus moved to relax against the headboard, pulling your feet into his lap to lightly massage them, relaxing you further. 

“You did so good for us tonight, love,” James said, moving his body so his chest was against you back, boxing you in. “We didn’t mean to upset you at all. You’re always good for us. You know that, right?” 

“I know. It was just too much in the moment,” you tried your best to explain. 

“We’ll talk about it later, yeah? We should have a word for if that happens again,” Remus suggested, quick to bring up what you had already been thinking about. You gave a small nod into Sirius’ neck, which he relayed to the boys. 

“Get some rest, pup. We’ll be right here when you wake up,” Sirius told you, placing a kiss on your forehead before moving to pull a blanket over the both of you, never pulling out once just as you wanted. 

Because you always got what you wanted from your boys. 

[teasty]

irresistible || h.hj (m)

a/n: yess fuck boy hyunjin ftw ngl,,,,i’m so in love with that idea,, especially with his long hair (i actually got into skz cuz of hyunjin’s hair lol i love longish hair on men)

● pairing: hwang hyunjin x (fem) reader

● genre: angsty n smutty (mdi!) | crack lol | enemies to lovers!au | college!au | nonidol!au

● warnings: hyunjin and reader hate each other at first :( | fighting | profanity | name calling | suggestive dialogue | fuckboy!hyunjin | snarky/goodgirl!reader | unprotected sex | hair pulling | cunnilingus | degradation + hints of praise | hyunjin is just an insecure baby underneath a tough guy exterior ;-; | virgin!reader | hyunjin keeps switching between fuck boy and sad boy |

● requested? yes!

● words: 9k

● summary: You despise Hwang Hyunjin with a passion. And he just hates you right back. You’re a good, moral student while he fucks around with everybody. He likes to pull at heartstrings while you like to pull at his palm tree hairdo. There’s nothing that makes you like the other, but when you wind up at the old art room with him and things get heated up, you see a softer, truer and more broken side to him.

Is falling in love with someone you've hated for years in the span of one night even possible? Apparently so...

i miss him so much don't @ me

“You’re too irresistible not to fuck until you're screaming my name and begging for more.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Hyunjin, or I’ll tear your stupid hair out of your head,” you threaten darkly. The ever so proud Hyunjin only scoffs, laughing mockingly at you as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He crouched down to be at eye level with you. Despite you being much smaller than him, you still stood your group, even tripped over on the floor, your once organized papers sprawled out on the floor.

“I’d like to see you try, princess,” Hyunjin’s brow raises, and your lips downturn into even more of a frown. You would never, ever dare to start a physical fight with Hyunjin, but boy you can talk. Sometimes, your mouth might even be a little bit too big for your own liking. The words just flow out so naturally, and you don’t even realize it to actually stop it from flowing off of your tongue.

It was your dumb mouth that started this whole mess, anyways. Back in the last few years of high school, your best friend (who, in the end, turned out to be the fakest bitch you’ve ever met) had gotten with a boy. A boy you had no clue even went to the school. And, that’s when you met Hwang Hyunjin at lunch that day. In all his short - haired glory. At first, he seemed pretty decent, but you knew something was off about him from the start. Sure, he had a bright smile that could make any girl with a brain filled with boys faint, but he just didn’t sit too right with you. The way he acted around your friend (at the time) and the way he’d talk to her and other girls.

At first, you didn’t think he was a fuckboy, but it was when he tried to get in your pants after you called him a fuckboy after school one day when it hit you. That was the first and only day you really punched him in the face. Giving him a black and blue bruise on his cheekbone from the impact when he tried to take your clothes off, not caring whether or not you said it was alright or not. Of course, he got mad at you, but didn’t lay a hand on you, like you thought he would. You remember bracing your body for some sort of punch, kick or push, but nothing came other than Hyunjin’s loud voice screaming curses at you and calling you all - too vulgar and hurtful names.

You would have apologized if you weren’t so upset with the fact that he tried to be your first fuck. Your virginity isn’t the most precious thing to you, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t allow yourself to lose it to Hwang Hyunjin. Especially not after that day he actually tried to fuck you behind the school. You went running to your friend afterwards. Who, to your surprise, got mad at you for trying to make her boyfriend cheat on her with you. You couldn’t believe her, and you dropped her right there.

It was actually Hyunjin who broke up with her, having her come running to you with tears in her eyes about how upset she is that Hyunjin broke up with her. Of course, you didn’t react and only ignored her for… the rest of her life so far. She eventually gave up on trying to be friends with you, and went her own direction. However, Hyunjin didn’t leave you alone.

You can swear that he’s vowed to make your life living hell after you rejected him with your fist. At first, it was just teasing. Calling you names. Making fun of stupid mistakes. Sometimes even flirting with you just to make you mad. And no matter how many times you seemed to reject, verbally or physically, he never gave. Maybe he doesn’t try to get in your pants anymore, but he won’t stop calling you stupid nicknames when he’s being a dick to you… like “princess, baby, babygirl, darling, honey, sweetheart.” Stupid, meaningless nicknames to call you just to pull at both your heartstrings and your thin line of patience.

You weren’t so friendly to call him bittersweet names like that. You decided to go with a more aggressive route of, “dickhead, motherfucker, bitch, asshole, asshat, shithead” and other conjugations of any curse word you could think of. Of course, none of it fazed him one bit. In fact, it all seemed to amuse him. Like your anger was his entertainment, and that idea pissed you off.

You’ve had friends tell you to “Just not give him the attention since that’s what he wants!” But, that was the most difficult thing to do when Hyunjin was always following behind you, yet always a step ahead. Everywhere you end up, he’s somehow ironically there, too. Everywhere you plan to go, he’s somehow, ironically, planning to go there, too. Sometimes you debate if he’s stalking, but you don’t have much social media (nor do you post anything if you did) and you made sure to always keep away from the name Hyunjin just in case it’s the Hyunjin.

But, now, you’re sitting on your ass like an idiot, papers flown around you as Hyunjin crouches down in front of you. Almost as if peering down at his prey. His judgemental eyes scan your trembling figure, shaking from the pent up anger, up and down as he smirks like the little devil he is.

You’d been running back to your classroom, having to collect papers for your professor from the teacher’s lounge. She specifically asked for them to be organized by date, and you spent a few well - focused and frustrating minutes organizing the papers. Of course, as you were running through the supposedly empty hall, looking down at your phone to check the time to make sure you’ll have enough time before the end of the class period, you slammed face first into Hyunjin’s chest. Knocking him off of his balance, but catching himself on the wall, and sending you flying back and the papers to fly out of your arms, all your hard work scattered around you as you glare up at him with a deadly look in your eyes.

“Oh…” Hyunjin smiles down at you, leaning against the wall. His brows creasing up in a fake worry, his bottom lip jutting out in a mocking pout, staining his handsome face with the pathetic expression, “Poor baby… Do you need help picking up your papers?” He asks in a high pitched voice, and you try to hold back the urge to kick him right in the balls.

“Don’t fuck with me, Hyunjin,” you growl out darkly, and Hyunjin’s eyes widen and his fake, bitter smile widens in a pathetic imitation of shock and hurt, “Or I’ll tear your stupid hair out of your head.” You shamelessly threaten, both of you knowing you’re probably not going to even try to rip Hyunjin’s gorgeous hair for his scalp.

Hyunjin gets up off of the wall and walks over to you, you sitting on your ass with a glare that could spew daggers, and he crouches in front of you. His elbows on his knees, and he peers down at you like a predator stalking over its prey, ready to pounce at any second. He scans you, his half lidded, judgemental eyes peering over your body, heavily hidden by your black leggings and dark blue hoodie that was two sizes too big.

“I’d like to see you try, princess,” Hyunjin cocks a brow at you, his eyes finally landing on your dark ones.

“Don’t call me that, dickhead,” you spit right back, but he only chuckles darkly, his head falling briefly before he lifts his head up again. Shaking it slightly as he critically smiles at you, his mocking laugh making you feel small and weak.

“That’s a no - can - do. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, alright? Princess?” Hyunjin’s face dips down, nearing yours. You do the first thing you think of, grabbing a handful of papers, wrinkling them and throwing them with full force at Hyunjin’s face. He flinches back and stands up, swatting away the papers quickly. “Fucking hell! You scared me for a second there.”

“Good, now piss off. I have places to be. And shouldn’t you be in class?” You grumble as you collect the papers, trying your best to get them as organized as possible in your arms, making sure to keep a tight grip on them in case Hyunjin tried to do anything.

“Aw, do you suddenly care for me?” He places a hand over his chest, sighing dramatically, “I’m touched.”

“In your dreams, dipshit. Leave me alone,” you snap out, already getting a headache from this as you walk around on your knees to try and collect the papers, cursing to yourself when you find a wrinkled one, trying to smooth it out. Hyunjin watches you with a stoic expression, leaning against the wall. You don’t even bother saying another thing to him before you gather up the last of the papers and dash away, trying to organize the papers best you could before you reach your class.

Thankfully, Hyunjin didn’t follow you like he usually did. You let out a breath of air you didn’t know you were holding as you neared the classroom, your hands moving quickly to organise the papers. You open the door, somewhat out of breath as you hand them to the professor. Letting her know that you dropped them on your way here and they got a bit disorganized, but you tried your best to organize them again. She dismissed you and thanked you, sending you back to your seat to pack up (since it’s the end of the class, which is why you were hurrying).

Thankfully, your last class period is a study hall, so you take this time to run down to the library to work on assignments that are due soon. You prefer the library since it’s a calm and quiet place, and you know the librarian quite well, since you’re usually there during study hall. If you’re not there, you’re somewhere with a friend, and that’s usually not in the comfort of the library since you get pretty loud and unfiltered when you’re with friends. So, in the end, you’ll get booted out by the librarian.

When you get there, there’s already quite a few students sitting around, listening to music and typing vigorously on their laptops. You bow briefly to the librarian, who gives you a warm smile before you take a seat at a table in the corner of the library, far from the others. You take out your laptop and phone, plugging your earbuds into the earphone jack in your phone to play music into your ears.

You spend a good fifteen minutes writing an essay for your English Literature class. Focused in on the task at hand while soft lofi flows into your ears, letting your mind relax, but focus on what you’re doing.

So, it’s totally normal that you let out a short scream when your earbuds are painfully ripped out of your ears, your hands flying up to cup your ears. People glare at you, but turn back when they see who’s looming over your desk. Your earbuds and phone in his hand, and you could faintly hear the sound of the lofi that once calmed your mind. He stood there with a proud smile, and he raised a finger to his lips.

“Shh… quiet in the library,” Hyunjin says just above a whisper, and your lip twitches from holding back from strangling him in front of everyone. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? He’s always made a note to let you know how annoying you can be or how much he hates you, so why doesn’t he just leave you alone? He knows how much he upsets you, but it seems to make him happy. He already wears a stupid smile all the time. You’ve seen him upset before, plenty of times. But when he’s teasing you or doing things to make you miserable, he wears that same devilish smirk.

“I… Fuck you, Hwang Hyunjin. Give me my phone back.” You stand up, reaching for the phone, but his hand yanks back away from you. Giving you a sarcastic smile as he looks down at you.

“Beg for it,” Hyunjin giggles darkly. Looking at something on your phone and even pressing a few buttons. Your eyes widen.

“Fuck no, just give it back!” You whisper - yell, reaching for it again, leaning over the table to grab for it.

Hyunjin shakes his head, “I said to beg for it…~” he sings - songs in a hushed tone, and your hands tense, his neck lookingly plenty good to just strangle. You don’t say anything, and you fold your arms over your chest. Raising a brow at you. “You think that’s gonna change my mind, hon? I still want you to beg for it.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn, it’s annoying,” you grumble, and shut your laptop close and push it into your backpack. You start walking out, shoving past Hyunjin and fighting against frustrated tears. You don’t even bother to bow to the librarian as you walk out, on fist gripping the sleeve of your backpack and the other clenched tightly at your side.

You walk out of the library, into the court of the university. There’s not many people there, since it’s the last class period of the day and everyone was getting ready to go home for the weekend. You stood underneath a tree, and turned, cocking a brow at Hyunjin who followed behind you slowly. You frown at him, and his brow raises.

“So? You’re gonna get ‘em or no? You know I’m not giving them if you just frown at me, (Y/N),” Hyunjin smiles snarkily, and you visibly roll your eyes at him. You sigh softly.

“Hyunjin. Give them to me. I’m being serious, now, no fuckin’ around,” You hold your hand out, finally speaking in a normal, harsh tone now that you’re out of the library.

“Hm… Nah. You still have to beg for it like a bitch. Or else they’re mine,” Hyunjin gives you a pitifully fake smile, and your eyes close, trying to ease the rising rage inside you.

“Hyunjin. I’m not begging for it,” You take a step closer to him, but he doesn’t back down. Your headphones still clutch in his hand as he holds them away from you. When Hyunjin doesn’t respond, you finally act. Dropping your backpack and letting it slip off your shoulder and onto the grass, propping itself against the tree. Hyunjin’s smile finally drops when you grip his wrist, pulling it towards you harshly. But, on instinct, Hyunjin pulls himself away, pulling you towards him.

So, you push him down onto the grass, not caring for onlookers as you straddle Hyunjin’s waist before he could even try getting up. One of your hands reaches up to press against his chest, but Hyunjin doesn’t struggle. Not one bit. In fact, he doesn’t even smirk anymore. He’s just staring at you as you reach for his hand.

“(Y/N),” Hyunjin’s dark voice pipes up, and you shoot him a glare.

“Shut up,” you snap, and you pry open his fingers, which was much easier than you though. His hands are hot and sweaty, and you almost laugh at it. Is he nervous that you’re straddling him let alone touching him in the first place? You will admit, it’s an intimate position, but you only got on top of him like that to prevent him from moving so you could grab your earbuds and phone out of his hands and stuff them into your pocket.

You smirk down at him, your hair falling past your face. It feels good to be the one in control, and now that Hyunjin’s vulnerable, you utter out, “And you almost got me to beg. Boohoo. Better luck next time, dipshit.” You finally get off of him, and the moment you’re off of him, he gets up and dusts himself off.

“(Y/N),” He calls out your name as he watches you grab your backpack.

“Shut up and don’t talk to me,” You snap, and Hyunjin’s lip clamp shut. He looks conflicted, and you would feel bad if it weren’t Hyunjin. The same Hwang Hyunjin who’s decided to make your every day a living headache.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me like that again,” Hyunjin’s hand snatches your wrist, but you pull yourself away swiftly, “If you do that ever, and I mean ever again, I will not hesitate to stuff your face in the dirt.” Hyunjin gets dangerously close to you, and you back away. You’re brows creasing. Sure, Hyunjin is a huge dick to you, but he’s not this much of a dick. So, it took you by surprise, but you felt proud. It’s obvious that forcing Hyunjin into such a vulnerable position both mentally and physically set him off, and you were proud of yourself for that. He’s always been the one trapping you, making you feel small and tugging at your strings of patience, and sometimes your heartstrings, too.

“Oh, fuck off, Hyunjin.” You groan out, your hands falling to your side as you sling your backpack over your shoulder, “You do that shit to me all the time. What’s it if I do it to you?”

“Just don’t do it a - fuckin’ - gain, (Y/N). Don’t, unless you don’t wanna walk straight the next day.” Hyunjin threatens, and your brows furrow.

“And what the fuck does that mean?” You scoff as Hyunjin shakes his head, turning to walk away. “Hyunjin!” You yell after him, but he thrusts up his hand, his slim middle finger in your direction. You scoff, surprised by such behavior from a guy like him, who’s usually the one doing the teasing instead of the flipping off.

You try your best to ignore him and head back to the dorm to your shared one with your friend. You were able to settle down for a bit, especially since your roommate wasn’t there yet. You finished up your work. Working on assignments that you couldn’t get to finish because of a certain someone who decided to snag your phone.

Speaking of your phone, about two hours after you get back to the dorm, your friend comes walking in.

“Hey Yeona,” You pipe up, acknowledging her presence as she peels off her flats from her feet. Yeona waves briefly before plopping on her bed.

“Hey (Y/N). How was it going today?”

“Terrible.” You admit, Hyunjin being the only thing coursing through your head.

“Terrible? Lemme guess,” Yeona sits up, glaring at you, “it’s that one Hwang guy you keep ranting about?” You nod slowly, “Ah. Well, sorry about that. Actually, that reminds me. Someone was asking for you. A boy… A really, really cute boy.”

“Oh? Who?” Your brow raises.

Yeona shrugs, “No clue. Couldn’t catch his name; he seemed like he was in a rush. He wants you to meet him in the old art room. The one they use for storage, you know? He said to take your time, but he seemed desperate as hell.”

“The old art room? Don’t people go there to fuck because the camera’s are busted at the school’s too lazy to replace ‘em?” your brow raises, a bitter smile etching your lip.

“That’s the one. Hey, you might get some dick tonight. At least he’s cute,” she wiggles her brows, and you laugh. “Go one. Call me if anything happens.”

“Yes, ma’am,” You jokingly salute, and Yeona does it right back. You stuff your phone in your back pocket, and give her a playful smile before you leave.

The old art room is at the very core of the school, and you know exactly where it is. Everybody does. It’s not exactly something that just goes unnoticed by the students. Since it’s old, the camera’s are very much out of date and therefore can’t hook up to the ‘new and improved’ security system. Usually people snuck there to fuck during passing hall, since no teacher went in there. Only special people on special occasions use it for storage.

You were somewhat excited. You still have your v - card, whether you like it or not. You originally planned to save it for someone special. But, at this point, you’re too stressed to care about who’s taking your virginity and who’s not. At this point, you’d get on your knees for anyone willing.

Except for Hwang Hyunjin. Of fucking course. You know so many people who would literally beg to be fucked by none other than Hwang Hyunjin. You were not one of those people. You weren’t one of Hyunjin’s toys, even though he treated you like one. You would never let him get to your head, though. You know that you shouldn’t listen to Hyunjin even if your life depended on it. He might mean those things, those vulgar things he says to you, but you choose not to believe them.

You were trembling by the time we were standing in front of the old art room. The rusty door is slightly ajar, signifying that someone’s inside. Of course there is, but it’s still weird that they didn’t shut the door in case any teacher got concerned and checked in. Whoever’s inside must be stupid, but you’re not one to ghost someone like that, especially if Yeona said that they seemed desperate. Someone desperate for you? You had no clue who. No one ever stared at you in class. No one ever teased you. Tried to constantly get your attention.

Actually, that’s a lie. That’s a bitter lie.

Hwang Hyunjin fit into every aspect of someone who’d be desperate for your attention. That’s when it hit you that Hyunjin’s only trying to gain your attention in the worst way.

And, he did. Because he’s standing right in front of you.

You turned to leave, but Hyunjin’s hand slammed against the closed door, making you flinch at the close proximity between the two of you, and you turned to look at Hyunjin. He’s not smiling like he usually is when he first sees you. In fact, you can’t tell what expression laces his godly face.

“Hyunjin? Was it you that told my friend to bring me here?” You ask, not so much a harsh tone, but trying to make things clear despite the answer being (literally) right in front of your face. There’s no one else in the old art room but empty boxes, old art tables and storage boxes littered here and there. “This isn’t funny, Hyunjin. I’m leaving.” You turn back around to grip the doorknob, but Hyunjin’s warm, shaking hand grips your wrist firmly, yet oddly gently.

“Don’t,” he utters out. His voice was strangely small. Nimble, even. Weak. “Don’t go. I need to talk to you.”

“Since when do you wanna talk to me?” You snap, and Hyunjin dodges your intense glare. His confidence seeps to be depleting by the minute.

“I just need to. I need to get things figured out,” Hyunjin grumbles out, letting go of your wrist. He steps away from you and sits on one of the old art tables, manspreading, stretching the tight fabric of his jeans.

“Get what figured out? Tell me,” you demand, now stepping away from the door and sitting across from Hyunjin on another table. Before Hyunjin could speak, though, you raise a hand, a thought coming to mind, “Wait, no. Why did you not just come to my dorm like a normal person? Why the art room? Do you know how many people have fucked in here, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, sighing softly, “Yes, I do. It’s just the only place we could truly be alone.”

“Wait… you’re not gonna do what I think you're gonna do, right?” You back up, reaching for your phone.

Hyunjin shakes his head, “No, I’m not. I’m not a stupid sixteen year old anymore, (Y/N). And neither are you.” You sigh, relaxing, “I’m just going to get straight to the point. I can’t take this anymore, (Y/N). I’m so lost without you.”

Your eyes snap up to meet his, looking for any sign of mischief or joke in his eyes. But, no. Instead, they’re genuine. Your brows furrow, confusion crashing over you.

“I don’t want to live with the thought that I make every day for you living hell,” Hyunjin looks away, ashamed.

“Then why do you taunt me in the first place?” You nearly yell, and Hyunjin’s eyes flicker closed. You get off of the table, standing in front of him, “Why do you work so hard to just get me pissed off for the rest of the day, huh? Why do you want my attention so bad? Why can’t you just leave me alone, then, if you don’t want to make my college life a living hell, huh?”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

So blunt. So stoic. So true.

You’re silenced by his words, shock overcoming you. Overwhelmingly dominating your anger as your eyes widen slowly. He doesn’t break eye contact, this time. He doesn’t bother looking away. He’s standing his ground. He’s telling the truth.

You shake your head, “No your not.”

“You don’t decide that,” Hyunjin says almost directly after your voice drifts off.

“You can’t be in love with me, Hyunjin. You can’t,” You shake your head, backing away.

“It’s not my fault!” Hyunjin finally raises his voice, getting off of the table and taking an intimidating step towards you. Making you falter and scramble back, your lower back hitting the old art table. “I can’t help it. I can’t help, (Y/N). I’ve tried everything. I’ve been with so many girls, even guys. Trying to get out of my mind but nothing, nothing works. It’s always been you. Ever since high school.”

“Even when you were dating her…?”

“Even when I was dating her. The only reason I dated your fucking friend was to try and get close to you,” Hyunjin admits, and your mouth falls open. You lost a friend just because he wanted to get close to you? Your anger was slowly gaining back it’s superiority over your shock, “I tried to talk to you, but every time I did it just came out as mean. You viewed me as a fuckboy, and I fulfilled that role. Only to try and get you out of my fucking head.” He spits out through gritted teeth. “I’ve tried to make myself hate you, despise you. And, don’t get me wrong, hon, a small part of me hates you’re short, annoying ass. But everything else is incomplete without you.”

“Why didn’t you just confront me? If you didn’t decide to date my friend then we wouldn’t be here right now!” You yell, pressing a finger to his chest.

“I was sixteen, (Y/N)! Sixteen. Everything that I did ended in my misfortune,” Hyunjin yells right back.

“And was that my fault? Huh?”

“Yes! It is! Yes, it fuckin’ is!”

“How in the fuck is it ever my fault with you?!” You shove him away.

“Because it was. All. For. You. Get that through your thick fucking skull!” Hyunjin yells so loudly, so aggressively that it brought you to tears. But, you didn’t show any sign of fear. You weren’t backing down from this.

After his yelling, things quieted. You’re too nervous to talk, afraid your voice would pathetically crack from the painful lump growing in your throat. Hyunjin stared at you, as if waiting for you to say something, anything. But, you couldn’t utter a word. Only a few pathetic tears slipping from your eyes. His brows crease up when he watches the quick, warm tears fall over your cheek and down your neck. His bottom lip becomes trapped between his teeth, and he looks down for a bit.

You’re tired of the silence. You simply can’t take it anymore. It’s driving you mad how tense and uncomfortable the silence between you and Hyunjin is.

“Hyunjin, I-“

You’re not able to finish before a pair of soft lips press themselves to yours. Your mind goes blank, and your body stiffens as you stare into Hyunjin’s closed eyes. Your hands gripping the table behind you for balance as Hyunjin’s trembling hands creep up to grip your face. He’s kissing you.

Hwang fucking Hyunjin is kissing you.

That’s a first.

You want to push him away, but no matter how much you tell yourself to, you only relax more and more. The feeling of his lips against yours was supposed to repulse you, give you the push you need to slam a fist into Hyunjin’s face. But, with how delicately he kisses you and how his gentle, trembling fingers caress your warm cheeks, you can’t bear even clenching your fist in the need to hurt him or to get him away from you.

You couldn’t bear to admit it, but you were slowly melting into the kiss. It was as though Hyunjin was casting some sort of spell on you. Your eyes relax. Going from a dim half - lidded until they flutter shut. Your hands let go of the table. You’re shaking, ever so slightly. Your hands guide themselves as they bring themselves up to press against Hyunjin’s collarbone. At first, you believe you’re trying to push him away. But, your own hands deceive you when they slowly trail up to run your hands through his long grown hair.

You finally let your lips move, and you finally kiss him back.

Hyunjin’s reaction to it is one to die for. His back stiffens when he feels your lips part and move with his. One of his hands moves to caress your jaw, his thumb running across the bone, his hands a bit more firm as the kiss gets passionate.

You want to hate yourself for kissing him back. For succumbing to him and letting yourself fall weak underneath him. But, you just couldn’t help yourself. Hyunjin’s lips pulled you in and didn’t seem to plan on letting you go anytime soon.

It seems like a flash when your tongue presses flush against Hyunjin’s. The feelings send your back stiff and you tightly grip his hair, as if you were going to break apart from the feeling. Hyunjin’s experienced lips guided your inexperienced ones, despite him obviously being nervous.

You try to breath through your nose like Hyunjin does when things start getting more and more intense, and Hyunjin’s hands slowly start to creep away from your face. Tongues clash, and instead of fighting for dominance over one another, you both move in sync. Your torso pressed against his as Hyunjin traps you in between him and the table.

One of Hyunjin’s hands falls down your arm, gently caressing your side before picking up your thigh to push you to sit on the table. He pushes you back.

“Hyunjin - ah… We can’t…” You mumble out breathily as he kisses the sides of your lips. His lips instantly connect back with yours.

“And here… I thought… you were standing so strong and proud,” Hyunjin chuckles darkly, whispering out the words in between wet kisses. His usual self coming back, and your brows furrow. “But… no. You’re letting me… do this… without fight.”

Your head cranes back as Hyunjin’s lips drag down to your neck. Licking wet strips up and down your neck, suckling on the sensitive skin and pressing wet, sloppy kisses to your skin. You bite back a moan.

“You said you wouldn’t do anything…” You whimper out, and Hyunjin chuckles against your neck.

“Maybe, but you’ve passed the point of no return when you kissed back. And here I thought you’d punch me in the face,” Hyunjin laughs against your skin, moving you so your legs are spread for him to press more and more against you.

“Maybe I should’ve,” you whisper out in one breath.

“Mmh, but you know you like it, baby,” Hyunjin smirks.

“What happened to you wanting to talk?” You breath out, your breath moans getting louder, and you bite your lip to hold your voice back.

“You ruined it,” Hyunjin grumbles, nibbling on your skin briefly.

“Fuck you…” you grumble, your arms wrapping around his neck unconsciously.

“Already, hmm? Impatient, are we?”

“Fuck off…!” You groan at his dumb joke, and Hyunjin laughs against you. “But… seriously, Hyunjin… Wait… I’m still a virgin.”

Hyunjin’s head snaps up, his brows furrowed. “You’re a what, again?”

“A virgin, dumbass.”

“Are you saying you want to have sex-..”

“Hyunjin! Don’t take this so lightly. I’ve never done it with anyone before, and I definitely wasn’t planning on someone like you being my first,” you admit, and Hyunjin cocks a brow at you.

“You’ll regret those words. I’ll make sure this is a night for you to remember,” Hyunjin snaps, his words dark, and you swallow. “But, I need you to let me know that you want me, too.”

“Goddamn it, Hyunjin,” you groan, and your hand grips a lock of his hair, pulling his back so he can look clearly at you, “I want you to fuck me, Hyun - ah…”

A smirk creeps up on his lips, and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows his spit, and you let go of his hair, and his head dives back into your neck. Not exactly going back to kissing you, but resting his lips there. He mumbles out, “I never thought I’d hear those words come out of your pretty mouth.” And neither did you. You tried to deny it, telling yourself that it’s a spur of the moment idea. But, right now, again, you can’t push Hyunjin away. Your body won't let you.

Fuck it, your mind screams, and you let your legs wrap around Hyunjin’s waist. His hands find themselves caressing your thighs, your waist and back as his lips start moving again over your neck. The sensation sending constant chills up and down your spine, causing your back to stiffen and arch at the new feeling erupting in your core. You’ve masturbated before, that’s not the issue. But, being in the control of somebody gave you a whole new stimulation with even having to be touched too much. A new spark of intensity.

Hyunjin’s hands are rough, yet cautious. Trying not to go too far, but obviously trying not to pull away himself.

He eventually pushed your shoulders lightly, but with enough force to push your back flat against the old art table. He’s still standing, but he’s leaning over you, his hands on either side of your head and his pelvis nearly pressed against yours, standing in between your legs.

His warm hands move slowly underneath your shirt. Your back lifts at the feeling of his hands meeting your untouched skin, and you let out a hoarse breath as Hyunjin sucks on the skin below your jaw. Your head tilting to the side to give him the access he needed. Your neck craning, and your eyes flutter shut from the bliss. Your lips parting in a silent moan. Too embarrassed to actually make too much noise. Hyunjin’s hands move up the sides of your bare waist, carrying your shirt and hoodie with it. He parts from your neck to look up at you, his hands coming to a sudden halt.

You only glare over to him before you take your shirt and hoodie yourself, peeling it quickly off and over your head and tossing them to the side, trying to make it onto another table, but it landed on the floor. You could care less. Hyunjin’s eyes immediately dart down to stare at your semi - exposed torso. You bite your bottom as Hyunjin’s hand eases up, poking at the wire of your cherry pink bra. “Pink? Cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble out, and Hyunjin’s eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Hmm, that’s not gonna happen and you know that.” Hyunjin winks at you, and you roll your eyes before your head falls back again. Hyunjin’s wet lips come back to your neck, but this time, he starts pressing slow, wet kisses down your neck. Over your collarbone and chest before over the bump of your breasts. You watch him with nervous eyes as Hyunjin presses wet kisses over the skin of your breasts. The feeling of the sensitive, untouched skin being no longer untouched is euphoric. However, he doesn’t take off your bra, most likely since you’re in the old art room and being completely nude would be a bit too overbearing and overwhelming for both of your likings.

You thought Hyunjin was going to stop there, but no. He kept on kissing down, now going over your stomach. Your heartbeat got louder and louder as he kept going down. His warm mouth pressing warm kisses to you before moving down, the area before being shadowed by the cold air.

Your breath got caught in your throat when Hyunjin’s fingers loop around the loose hem of your jeans. His eyes darting up to look at you briefly. But, this time, he doesn’t wait for you to take them off. One finger undoes the first button before he swiftly moves out of the way to pull them down. Your legs try to clamp shut, but Hyunjin’s knee jerks up, stopping them from closing. Your panties don’t match your bra, since they’re black and not as fancy. However, Hyunjin doesn’t seem to care at all.

Your pink face watches as Hyunjin tosses your jeans to the side, with the rest of your clothes.

“Hyunjin - ah…” You utter out, and Hyunjin’s eyes flicker up to meet yours, one brow raising in question.

“I’m going to eat you out,” Hyunjin gives you a sarcastic smile, and you don’t have the willpower to roll your eyes. Your pussy is already sopping wet, and you hold back the urge to throw yourself on top of him. You’re not surprised by how blunt he is, but it’s still nerve wracking for you. “Don’t be scared. You’ll be perfectly fine.” He reassures, and you know you’re fine. That you’re safe, but, as said before, you were so nervous.

You watch as Hyunjin dips between your legs, getting on his knees on the floor, perfectly level with you. He looks from your wet panties to you for a moment before he presses a firm kiss to your clothed cunt. Your hips jut up from the sensitivity of it, your legs trying to clamp shut, but Hyunjin’s hand is quicker. His hand flush against your thigh. He smirks against you, pressing another feather light kiss to your clothes pussy once more before he licks up it, firmly pressing his tongue against you, sending your hand to your mouth to hide your choked moans.

However, Hyunjin’s hand flies up to pull your arm down, grumbling out, “Don’t be fucking quiet this time, (Y/N).”

“We’re in a fucking classroom, Hyunjin, I have to be!” You let out a throaty groan as Hyunjin licks another long, slow strip over your panties.

“All the teachers are gone. God, relax,” Hyunjin laughs bitterly, and you shoot him a confused look.

“You planned this didn’t you?” You snarl, propping yourself, and Hyunjin cocks a brow, his long fingers hooking around the hem of your pantines. You tried to close your legs, but they’re blocked by Hyunjin’s hands. Hyunjin only shoots you glare before pulling down your panties, and you gasp when your sopping pussy meets the cold air of the old art room.

“Ha,” Hyunjin scoffs, one of his fingers moving up to grace itself over the smooth, all too stimulative and sensitive skin around you, making your hips jutter, “No matter how mad you try to make yourself, you’re still dripping wet like a bitch in heat. Didn’t know I turned you on so much, sweetheart.”

“I’ll kill you,” you snap, but your hand goes to grip the edge of the table.

“You’ll love me after this,” Hyunjin winks at you again.

“I doubt it,” you backfire, and Hyunjin’s brow raises. A challenging smile on his face as his lips near your throbbing womanhood. So close, you could feel his breath fanning you. Hyunjin holds eye contact with you as his lips make contact with your warm, wet cunt. Your head falls back when you feel Hyunjin’s tongue against your clit. You let out a breathy moan and your hand flies down to tug at Hyunjin’s hair.

Hyunjin doesn’t go slow. He’s already teasing your hole with his middle finger as he licks and suckes around your pussy. His lips and tongue working wonders no toy you’ve ever owned ever could. The explicit sounds he makes turn you on even more, his eyes fluttering shut to focus on his mouth’s movement more than your face, which is tilted back. Your back arches from the pleasure, and you let out delicate moans as Hyunjin’s lips satisfy your throbbing pussy, giving it the attention it’s been craving.

Hyunjin slowly eases one finger into you, and your hips buck onto it. Hyunjin chuckles against you at your movement and raises a hand to press against your gut, pushing you down and holding you there as he lapped up your flowing juices while his finger inserts inside you. His knuckles soon flush against you, slowly twisting his hand inside you as you push yourself against him. Chills running through your body as Hyunjin’s tongue presses against your sensitive clit.

“Oh, god, Hyunjin…!” You moan out when he presses another finger into you. Your eyes squeezing shut as your trembling hands grip Hyunjin’s hair, your legs resting over his shoulders as he begins to thrust his fingers into you at a decently fast pace. His long fingers penetrate your tight, virgin hole. Pumping them in and out quickly, and you clench around him.

Your hands that grip Hyunjin’s hair pulls him further towards you, trying to get more and more of his tongue on you. Your hips grinding down on his fingers as your mind fogs from the pleasure. Now, you don’t care that it’s Hwang Hyunjin, you’re just loving the pleasure he’s providing you. You neck cranes, almost as if trying to pull away from how sensitive you were and how Hyunjin was abusing that.

However, when he enters a third finger, stretching you out, you feel your orgasm nearing. You clench around his fingers, your moans getting louder. Now, the thought of a teacher overhearing your explicit moans clearing from your head, your mind relaxing on the thought. All you can think of is how high you’re getting from the pleasure.

“Hyunjin… Hyunjin, I’m gonna cum soon… Hyunjin - ah, mmh,” one hand reaching up, the back of your hand pressing against your lips. Hyunjin doesn’t slow down. His hands move faster, and his mouth sucks at your clit. Your back begins to arch, your climax dangerously close.

But, it doesn’t come.

Hyunjin’s hands pull out of your pussy and he stands up when your back twitches, about to throw itself up when your climax hits. You look at Hyunjin with wide, glossy eyes. Sweat dripping down your forehead. Your legs twitch from the lost orgasm.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?” You snap, and Hyunjin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, giving you a raised brow and a smirk.

“You don’t get to cum, yet,” Hyunjin climbs over you again, trapping you down underneath his arms as he pushes himself in between your legs, and you could feel how hard he was just by a small brush of his bulge against your thigh. “Now, be good for me and take my cock like a good slut.” Your back stiffens from the vulgar slur, but it only makes your oversensitive pussy even wetter.

Hyunjin is quick when he lets his pants drop down with his boxers, and his dick springs free. His achingly red cock pressing against his stomach. As you look from his cock to his eyes, you feel waves of fear spring over you. However, Hyunjin’s soft touch on your face calms your nerves. His other hand pumps his member a few times before the tip it teases against your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet,” Hyunjin groans, and you don’t answer, watching as Hyunjin slowly pushes himself into you, raw. Your head falls from the feeling, and Hyunjin’s mouth falls open, letting out a breathy groan as he eased himself into you. Your throbbing womanhood getting used to such a feeling. Once his pelvis bone is pressed against your ass, he stays there like that for a moment, and you get used to his size.

After a few moments of the sounds of both of your loud breaths, Hyunjin’s face nears yours, and your eyes flicker open to stare into his dark eyes. “I’m gonna start movin’, (Y/N),” he warns, and you nod.

“Please…” You grumble, and Hyunjin’s lip rises in a smirk.

“Please?”

“Move… Fuck me hard, Hyunjinnie. I can’t take it anymore. It’s about time you stopped fucking teasing me, huh?” You growl out, irritated.

Hyunjin’s smirk drops to a frown, and his hand grips your cheeks harshly, “Watch your tone with me, (Y/N). You can be so fucking proud, and that’s one of the reasons I wanna hate you. But, you’re too irresistable not to fuck until you’re screaming my name and begging for more.” And, after that, he ever so slowly pulls out of you before ramming himself back into you. So harshly and aggressively, it moves the whole table enough to where it creaks on it’s old legs. You let out a loud, inevitable moan that forces its way out of your lips.

Hyunjin does that a few times, and he throws his head back because of the pleasure. His face drowned in lust, and you clung to the table. A new burning sensation in your core as Hyunjin’s dick rams into your pure walls, deriving them from their innocence. You’re heat clenches around him as he pulls himself in and out of you. Slowly driving himself out before ramming into you.

But, he doesn’t do that for long when he starts to find a fast rhythm. One hand gripping your thigh while the other holds himself up on the table. He’ll sometimes let out breathy grunts or groans, but you’re on the verge of screaming out from how fast he was going. His cock burning your walls, sending a new sensation through you. It’s painful, but you’re loving it so much. You’re loving the burn, the penetration, everything.

Your eyes are closed, pure ecstasy running through you as your hands move up to wrap your arms around Hyunjin’s neck, pulling him close to you and into a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. Both of your mouths open to crash your tongues together in bliss as your legs wrap around Hyunjin loosely. His hips stay consistent, but your hips twitch and stutter. Your back stiffening and twitching, pressing tight against Hyunjin’s clothed torso as he kisses you. One of his hands guiding up to harshly caress your cheek, jaw and neck. His long fingers tugging lightly at your hair as your hands screwed with Hyunjin’s hair. Running through it, gripping it, even tugging it sometimes.

“Oh my fucking god, (Y/N),” He moans against your lips, moving away to rest his lips against your neck as he groans, his hips stuttering slightly, throwing him off his rhythm, “You’re pussy’s so fuckin’ good. Feels so fuckin’ good.” You moan out in response, too lost in desire, lust and euphoric, blissful pleasure to form something as simple as a response. Your mind so blank, nothing running through your mind other than how Hyunjin’s cock makes your pussy feel so fucking good. How he makes you feel so fucking good. The way it’s overstimulated and edged on, it’s almost overwhelming to the point you want to cry from the stimulation.

You begin to moan, nearly screaming out Hyunjin’s name as you feel your climax nearing, clenching helplessly around his cock. “Hyunjin… Hyunjin! Oh, fuck, Hyunjin - ah, I’m gonna cum! Please, oh god, please, I wanna cum so… ah! - so fuckin’ bad…” Your words are slurred, but enough for Hyunjin to make out.

“Mmh… Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, baby girl,” your back arches, flush against Hyunjin’s body as your gut erupts with a new feeling. Your neck cranes as your eyes open, rolling into the back of your head as your mouth opens in a silent scream. Cumming all over Hyunjin’s cock as he stops his thrusts, deep inside you to let you cum. Your mind hazing as you let out a string of high - pitched moans. Your body twitches and your knuckles turn white from gripping Hyunjin’s tee shirt.

Once you’re halfway through your climax, nearing the part where your whole body relaxes, Hyunjin quickly pulls out. Getting up from you, and your arms drop to your side as you breath heavily, coming down from your high. Hyunjin pumps his cock fast in his hands. Not slowing down whatsoever as his eyes squeeze shut. You watch his face as his mouth opens, moaning loudly as he cums over your stomach.

Once he is down from his climax, he breathes heavily. Sweat dripping down the side of his forehead. Your head falls back, your eyes closing as exhaustion then waves over your body. Catching your breath.

You didn’t even notice Hyunjin leaving shortly to grab an old cup from the counter and fill it with water before coming back. Dipping his fingers in the water to wipe his cum off of you. You jump at the sensation, but relax when you see Hyunjin’s distant, wistful smile. You watch as he wipes it off, making sure it’s clean before dumping the cup in the sink. Your heart quickens as Hyunjin puts on his clothes before he walks over to grab your clothes and silently help you put them on. He doesn’t really make eye contact with you, but it’s a comfortable silence. The first ever comfortable silence you’ve had with him.

It’s then, as he helped wipe you clean, dress you and make sure you were already by wiping the sweat off of your face with the back of his hand that Hyunjin wasn’t who you thought he was. Everything’s not as it seems. The way he smiles so adoringly at you as he brushes the back of his hand against your cheekbone ever so lovingly makes you feel conflicted with feelings.

At some point, Hyunjin lays down next to you on the art table. It’s quiet for a few minutes, both of your just staring at the ceiling, shoulders and legs touching.

“I’m in love with you, (Y/N).” He whispers, and you finally look over to him. He wears a delicate smile, and a tear trickles down the side of his face, “I really shouldn’t. I really don’t know why, but I do.” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, and you swear your heart shattered right there. “I… I shouldn’t have had sex with you. It’s only making everything worse for me. It’s making everything hurt so much more.”

He sits up, wiping his face, turning his back from you. He sniffs softly, letting out sharp breaths as his back trembled from his hoarse breathing.

You sit up, too. Reaching over to put your hand on his shoulder, but you hesitate.

No. If Hyunjin isn’t really who you thought he was, you want, you need to get to know the real him.

So, you make up your mind.

You get off of the table to move in front of him, and he tries to move away, his hands covering his red face. You gently grip his hands, pulling them away from his face. And it’s a sight you thought you’d never have to see. His eyes are red, his face wet and pink from the tears staining his face. It’s such a pitiful look on him, and you thought you’d never, ever see him so vulnerable. He keeps him looking down, trying to pull his hands away, but you have a tight grip on them.

“Look at me, Hyunjin.” You demand in a soft, yet firm voice. Hyunjin doesn’t for a moment, and you were about to repeat yourself, but Hyunjin’s eyes lock with yours. You give him a soft sigh and smile, “Hyunjin. You’ve proved to me that you’re not the person I thought you were. And… if you’re really not the douchebag, fuckboy and absolute asshate that I know, then… then I’ll stay by your side. Alright?”

Your heart hammers against your chest as Hyunjin’s eyes widen slightly, another tear slowly dripping down his face. You let go of one of his hands to gently rub it away with your thumb. Just below his eye. Hyunjin stares at you with wide, doubtful eyes. His lips slightly ajar as his hand trembles in yours.

So, to ease the silence, you press a gentle kiss to his lips. With no tongue, it’s an innocent kiss. He doesn’t kiss back at first, but he does after a moment.

And, the rest of that night was spent in that old art room. Either talking to each other, kissing each other or holding each other that night. You learned a lot about Hyunjin. About why he likes to fuck around, why he thinks he’s in love with you and other things about his life. You also told him a lot about you, about why you didn’t feel right about him at first.

And, by the end of that night, you could easily conclude that you’re in love with Hwang Hyunjin, and that it’s possible to fall in love with someone in the span of one night after years and years of hating each other.

[il-ballo-della-vita-maneskin]

Hiiii first, I'm totally in love with your blog...

Second I'm obsessed with that video of Damiano were he pulls vic all of the way of a motorcycle, could you do a imagine based in that and it turns in a argument with reader maybe fluff in the end just him being protective and all...

sorry it took me so long to write this, but here it finally is

i really hope this is somewhat what you wanted. i maybe have gone in a sliglty different direction, but i honestly couldn’t help myself, i really love mutual pinning, lol.

anyway, i hope you’ll like this, i had so much fun writing it and thanks for the request (if you have any more, send them in).

damiano david x reader

word count: 1802 (i think, lol)

warnings: mutual pinning, arguing, make out scene, cursing, maybe a little pathetic characters ng

gender of the reader: unspecified

~

You knew Damiano was next to you and that he was telling you something, but you didn’t pay much attention. You absentmindedly nodded your head while writing a message to Victoria to tell her you’ll be back soon.

It was already much later then you have expected it’ll be. Damiano and you had a meeting with some photographer, that will take pictures of the band. All of them were supposed to go, but none of them felt like going, so Vic asked you.

With your feelings for him clouding your thoughts and leaving you awake at night, you weren’t sure how clever of an idea was that. Though, it didn’t seem like he was enjoying it either. For quite some time now, he’s been acting distant, hasn’t really been talking to you. And it was the same way today. He barely said a word to… 

A hand grabbed your forearm and yanked you aside, just as you had sent a message to Vic, to tell her you’ll be back soon. You raised your head to see what’s happening and a motorcycle passed by you. Judging by its speed, you knew that if you weren’t pulled away, you’d most likely be hit.

“What in the…” you murmured and turned to see who saved you, only to be met with Damiano’s furious gaze.

“What were you thinking!” he shouted too loudly and you flinched. The night was so quiet, with the humming of the wind as the only source of sound, and his raised voice was almost like an explosion.

“Don’t yell,” you said and jerked your hand away. His eyes crossed your body and you unintentionally held your breath. You could hear your heart beating rapidly and your mouth got dry. You felt like kicking yourself. What about him forced your body to react this way, as its only wish was closeness to him, as it only yearned for his touch and it couldn’t focus on anything but his presence?

It was remarkably irritating, really.  

Especially now, when you didn’t even realize that he was talking to you, until his features changed into a frown.

“Are you even listening, Y/n?” he asked.

When he didn’t get a response, he heavily sighed and ran his hand through his hair. You wondered would it be like if you did the same thing.

“You are unfixable,” he said.

Thoughts about touching his hair vanished and your head suddenly cleared.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“It means, Y/n, that you can’t even not get yourself killed. You were on the middle of the fucking road! You could have died and you aren’t even bothered about it,” he said and got a step closer too you. Unlike usually, it didn’t wake a nauseous feeling, like someone removed earth under your feet. This time, it just angered you more. You knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t bottle up your feelings any more.

“Well, you wouldn’t be bothered even if that did happen, so you can stop already with that bullshit. Thank you for pulling me aside, but now we can just get back to the ignoring and not giving a fuck about each other, like recently. I assume you must miss it, after helping me and stuff. It’s a big deal, as you’re usually not able to be polite to me for a minute,” you said, surprised how steady and stony your voice sounded, despite the devouring ache in your chest. You wanted to hit him, push him, scream at him, pull him close, hold him, kiss him, but you stayed still.

“Oh, gladly! Tell me, do you want us to completely ignore each other despite being friends once, like you did for last couple of months, or do you think we could actually explain what our fucking problem is?” he said and raised his eyebrows at you mockingly.

“Don’t even try,” you said through gritted teeth. “It was you who stopped talking to me, you who pretended I’m not in the room and you who killed our friendship. Don’t blame it on me.”

He was dangerously close to you now and your brain only managed to process it when his breath fanned over your face. The realization left you breathless. It was like you couldn’t inhale properly and it made your head spin.

“Well, I do. I blame it on you, Y/n. If you weren’t- fuck,” he cut himself off and took a step back, his eyes purposely not meeting yours.

Despite air absence, you managed to crook out “What? If I weren’t what?”

Your feet twitched, begging you to run away. The way street illuminated his features, made his skin glow almost an ethereal shine and brought warmth and depth into his eyes seemed like too much. After having him so close, no matter that it was only due to a fight, you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You needed to leave. Or you might do things you’ll regret later.

Though, your curiosity got the best of you, as it’s prone to do.

“Damiano? If I weren’t so what?” you said and now it was you who got dangerously close. You pulled his shoulder to force him to face you. When he turned, you were only inches away, but you managed to disregard the throbbing pain in your heart. If only you could lean a little closer…

“Stupid. That fucking motorcycle almost hit you! You were walking on the middle of the roadway. It could have hit you,” he first raised his voice, but then it got quieter. You could swear his face softened, but then every trace of that disappeared again.

“What were you fucking thinking? If you didn’t focus all your attention to sending messages, you would’ve heard it. Or heard me when i was calling you.”

You didn’t know how to answer him. You were already tired and this fight seemed needless.

“Look, Damiano. Can we just stop now? I was reckless, I suppose, alright. Thanks for not letting a motorcycle kill me, if that’s what you want to hear. Can we just go-“ you started but was cut off by Damiano:
“That’s not what I want to hear! How can’t you see it, Y/n?” he said and only then have you realized how tired he looked. And somehow… sad.

Last few months, something in your relationship with Damiano changed. There was that constant tension when the two of you were in the room. Gradually, you grew apart. And you hated that. It might would’ve been easier for you to bury your uninvited feelings for him, but you loved Damiano. He was your close friend and you didn’t want to lose him.

You blamed him for fall of your friendship, for the hole he left in your heart, yet it never occurred to you that it might be just as hard for him. You knew friendships sometimes fade and there in no one to blame for that. But you refused to let it happen with you and Damiano. Even if you needed to sacrifice your own feelings. Maybe, after some time, they will disappear.

“I don’t want you to thank me. I just… be more careful. I- “but he stopped. You wanted to urge him to continue. But you resisted.

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s just get back.”

You needed to fight the tears. It felt so bitter, saying goodbye. But it was better to part from your emotions than from him, right?

He grabbed your hand. You turned your head to face him again. His scent was so familiar, every little part of his face you knew better than your own. His dark eyes looked at yours, but something in them changed. His gaze wasn’t angry anymore, but some new determination found its way into it.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke quietly, almost whispered. A sad smile formed on his lips, as if every word hurt him. “I just… I don’t want you to get hurt. I got scared and… I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want you to be hit by a motorcycle.”

“I don’t want you to be hit by a motorcycle either,” you said, before you could stop yourself. You wondered why did you say something so stupid, even though it was true, but it was too late. Though, on your surprise, he lowly chuckled.

The sound was so beautiful it put you in a daze, but you soon joined him. You were laughing for some time, the sound spreading through the chilly air of the night and filling the empty street. Though, he got serious again.

“But I really am sorry, Y/n. For acting the way I did for last few months. I wish I could say I didn’t mean to push you away, but that’s exactly what I wanted. I- “

The said smile stretched his lips again. It didn’t fit him. You preferred his laughter from few moments ago.

“I suppose I care about motorcycle not hitting you more than as for the other people.”

Your heart threatened to burst out of your chest.

It maybe didn’t mean anything, of course. You were close friends, that was probably what he implied to.

Though, you could wait no longer to find out.

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

But he didn’t kiss you back.  

You could feel something inside of you breaking as you backed away quickly, and you knew it was something vital. You fucked this up, you just ruined…

His hands grabbed your face and pulled you to him. Your lips collided with such force it made you lose your balance. But he held you tight and you placed your arms around your neck, as in wish to pull him closer, though it was impossible.

His lips tasted of cigarettes and whiskey he had at the meeting with the photographer, his tongue fought for the dominance with your own. Your teeth clashed in the kiss so passionate and hungry, yet capable of showing how much you needed each other, to make known all of your hidden wishes and pains.

His fingers pressed your waist, so hardly you were sure you’ll wake up with bruises in the morning. Yours were pulling at his hair, which made him shiver and deepen the kiss even more. You could feel his heart beat and chest heavily ascending and descending against yours.

You slowly dragged your fingers on the back of his neck and into his t-shirt, but you needed to pull apart when you lost your breath.

It spun in front of your eyes and you couldn’t even see him clearly. But you could very well see the grin on his face and it brought the alike on your face.

You placed your head in the crook of his neck. His arms embraced you and he was about to say something when your phone buzzed.

The message was from Victoria: You will come back soon, huh? Well, I guess you and Damiano are busy

i know this went in quite different direction, but i hope you still like it<3

Love, Ri✨

P.S. imagine requests are open, so feel free to send requests, i really like getting them (and sorry if it takes me a while to answer to you!)

[whumperooni]

two in the morning and i’m all yours

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Tags/Warnings: tw toxic relationship, public fingering, drinking and drug mention, degradation, possessive behavior, daddy kink, fingers in moufs, reader is kind of a bimbo, mentions of punishment/trained behavior, drool, slight puking mention (just briefly, nothing graphic and not described in any detail- it’s all in the past)

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I, uh, have never ridden a train before. But I’ve ridden the subway! So I’m just going to slightly modify the request to subway rather than train;;;; And I skimped out on fucking, but hopefully this is tasty enough to make up for it ♡

✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤

Two in the morning and all is quiet.

It’s quiet as Dabi yanks you into the station and it’s quiet as he makes you hop the gate. His snicker when your clumsy, drunken feet stumble over one another is quiet and your whine against his chest is quiet, too.

The terminal is a ghost town as he hauls you through it- empty, dingy, washed over in a sickly green light that makes you feel so disconnected from the world above. It’s like a horror movie, almost, but you couldn’t ever be really scared of a vaguely spooky subway station- you face actual horrors in your life every day; you’ve got crooks for friends, bloodthirsty debtors haunting your every step, ravenous heroes looking to snatch you up just to get to the League, and a monster for a boyfriend.

All that is much, much scarier than any silly subway station.

And Dabi is the scariest of it all- thrilling, frightening, vicious, nasty.

A hum slips from you- dazed and faint- and you twine your fingers through Dabi’s, smile sleepily when his hand holds yours tight.

You like the way he holds your hand as if he’s terrified you’ll try to run away from him. You like how he crushes your palm and squishes your fingers together until they’re aching for a good few hours after. It feels like you’re precious somehow- though you know it’s a twisted way to be treated.

He just wants to keep you his is all. He just wants to make sure you won’t- can’t- ever leave him.

Not that you want to. Not that the thought of doing so could ever enter your giddy, empty head.

Dabi pulls you into a car and you giggle when he yanks you to sit down on his lap, curl your fingers into shirt and peer around curiously. It’s empty in here- just like the station- and your fuzzy mind can’t help but wonder if you really did happen to stumble upon a ghost town.

Ghost town? Ghost station? Ghost subway? Ghost...

Oh, whatever.

Another giggle as Dabi grips your waist and you smile up at him- eyes so heavy and cheeks flushed, your lashes fluttering as he digs his thumbs into deep circles along your hips.

“Are we goin’ back to the hideout?”

Slurred, a little whiny- Dabi huffs at the question and his grip on you tightens as he pulls you closer. You can’t help a small shiver when his hands wander lower and you pout when he huffs again, when he moves a hand away to take his cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

“Where the fuck else would we be goin’?”

You don’t know- a hotel? Another party? Some isolated little house to break into and sleep the night away?

A shrug from you and Dabi clicks his tongue, snaps his fingers and lights his cigarette with a pretty blue flame. He takes a draw and breathes smoke out into your face and he laughs when you whine, when you squirm on his lap.

"Dabi, you're so mean."

"Oh, I'm mean now? You didn't think I was so mean earlier when I was bashin' in that fucker's face for ya."

Your cheeks flare at the memory and Dabi sneers whenever you bite your lip- gloating, smug, undeniably arrogant over the way your muddy eyes get just that much more hazy at the recollection.

It was some perv- some handsy guy with too much coke up his nose, too much whiskey in his system. He had cornered you when Dabi had went to the bathroom, had grabbed onto you and laughed at your stuttered panic, had tried to run his hands up your skirt. He’d been dumb enough not to keep an eye out for Dabi and god when Dabi had come to find you, he had melted that jerk’s face with a flaming punch.

You can still smell the stink of burning skin. You can still feel the ache in your wrist when Dabi had squeezed onto it tight with a snarl.

A shiver runs through you and you squirm on Dabi’s lap, swallow and dig your teeth deeper into your lip when he runs those piercing eyes of his over you.

“You know, princess,” he drawls, “you never thanked me for that.”

You didn’t? You could have sworn you had...

“I- I’m sorry, Dabi,” you mumble- meek, genuinely apologetic and genuinely upset that you weren’t a good little girl that had thanked him like you should have. “Thank you, Dabi. Thank you for savin’ me.”

A snort, something smug in his eyes, and Dabi takes a draw of his cigarette, blows the smoke out through his nose. You’d almost giggle at it if it weren’t for the way his fingers dig deep enough into your skin that you’re left whimpering instead.

“You’re losin’ those good manners of yours, sweetheart,” he huffs. “Am I gonna have to teach you a lesson?”

A- a lesson? Oh, no no no- not a lesson.

Dabi’s lessons are so cruel. Making you kneel on concrete with a bar of soap jammed in your mouth until you’re sobbing and gagging, puking up bile. Spanking you with a flaming hand until you can’t sit down for a good month. Fucking you in the bar right in front of the League, making you cry out your sins while they watch him scorch his palm prints into your waist.

They’re so cruel.

But you never forget your lessons. You’re always so good after them- so well behaved for him.

Another whimper and you shake your head quickly, get your drunken mind spinning from the desperation. You press up against him and you curl your fingers tight into his shirt, try and fail to keep your lips from wobbling and your eyes from glistening.

“N- no, daddy, please,” you whine, plead. “I- I’m a good girl. I’m sorry- I promise!”

Dabi scoffs, cigarette bobbing in his mouth, and he runs his hand down to your thigh, pushes it up until he can poke his spindly fingers against your panties.

“Yeah? Then why the fuck are you so wet?”

Wet? You’re...are you really wet?

Your eyes widen and you’re left gasping whenever he nudges your panties to the side, when a skinny digit runs along your slit.

“Fuckin’ soaked,” he sneers. “What kinda good girl is this fuckin’ drenched on the subway?”

“D- Daddy-”

Fingers plunge into your mouth and your words get cut off in a gurgle, a garbled whine slips from you as they push down on your tongue, as his rings scrape against the roof of your mouth, as you taste yourself.

Oh- oh you really are wet.

A whimper trembles out around his digits and Dabi’s sneer grows as he plunges his fingers deeper into your mouth.

“Such a little slut,” he mocks. “A bad little girl with a sopping little cunt.”

No! No! You’re not bad! You’re not!

Tears well up in your eyes and drench your lashes faster than they usually do- how can they not when you’re drunk and ashamed? How can they not when Dabi’s fingers jam down so deep in your throat that his knuckles are past your teeth?

You gag- still trying to plead even as you do- and Dabi takes a draw from his cigarette, stabs it out on the empty seat next to him without even looking.

“Oh, baby, you’re just so fuckin’ hopeless, aren’t ya?” he taunts- so sickly fake with his sympathy, with the hollow sweetness in his voice. “You can’t help it, huh? Can’t help being wet for daddy.”

No, you can’t help it. You really, really can’t. Not with the way he’s practically trained you to need him. Not with the way he has you so tightly wrapped around his finger.

You whimper, again, as you try to shake your head and you make yourself gag even harder as you do, make yourself drip tears all down your cheeks and onto your lap.

“Da- Da- Daddy...”

It’s so garbled and pathetic, so hopelessly pitiful. Dabi’s eyes go half-shut as you try to gurgle out your drunken apologies and he clicks his tongue as drool drips down his wrist.

“Messy little skank,” he huffs- this time truly fond in his own rough way. That makes it better, a little, and you sniffle whenever he pulls his fingers from your mouth, cough and spill spit all over you as you try to catch your breath.

Dabi dips his drool drenched fingers under your skirt and you gasp, mewl as they plunge into your cunt, moan so loud it echoes through the empty car whenever he curls his digits deep inside of you.

“Daddy, please!”

A snort, a scoff- Dabi’s lips twist into a smirk right as his wrist does and you collapse against his chest, tremble with a little sob.

“Oh, angel,” he hums, “are you begging me to fuck ya right here? On the subway? Where anyone could get on and see you creaming on my cock?”

Yes? No? You don’t know.

It’s so hard to think with the liquor in your veins. It’s so hard to think with the way his fingers brush against your sweet spot with each curl, each pump he gives them.

It’s so hard to think when Dabi’s disciplined you to go absolutely dumb at just the simplest of touches.

You whimper and a hot huff of air brushes against your cheek, his free hand reaches until he can grab you by the hair, yank your head back until you’re forced to look at him through your bleary eyes.

“I asked you a question, princess,” he drawls- words sharp with a threat, eyes narrowing as you whimper once more.

“I- I- Daddy, I’m sorry...”

Slurred, stupid- at least it has his face flickering into something amused. His fingers still curl tighter in your hair, though, and you sniffle as your cunt clenches around him, as your hips try to stutter against his hand.

“Daddy, please! I want- I want it...”

Dabi snorts and you whine as his fingers slip from you, as he brings them up to his lips and gives them a lick. They’re so shiny even in the dingy light of the subway and seeing those glossy digits has your pussy throbbing, your cheeks flaring, a whimpering mewl crawling out from your throat.

“‘Course you want it,” he drawls, swiping his fingers down your shirt. “But you ain’t going to get it.”

What? But that’s not fair!

Your mouth flies open and tears drip down your cheeks as you try to protest, but Dabi grabs onto your jaw before you can speak so much as a word and he squeezes your face tight, sneers at the squeak that leaves you.

“Maybe at the hideout,” he taunts. “Maybe if you’re a good little girl and show me how thankful you are that I didn’t let that asshole fuck your dumb ass.”

He would have- he wouldn’t have...would he?

A sob from you and Dabi huffs, something softens in his expressions as you warble out a “no, please, ‘m yours” to him in a drunken, pleading whimper. A click of his tongue and his grip on your face loosens before he gives your cheek a wet little smack, before he rolls his eyes at you.

“Oh, shut up,” he grumbles. “As if I’d let anyone fuck my girl.”

His girl...his girl. That’s right- you’re his girl.

You sniffle, still tangled up in your upset, and Dabi clicks his tongue again before shaking his head.

“So pathetic,” he snorts. “Fuckin’ dumb, pretty thing.”

This time when you whimper it’s misty eyed and pleased, full of undying need and accompanied by trembling lips, a rock of your hips. Dabi scoffs, softly, and his hands grip your waist, force you to stillness.

“Be good for daddy,” he tells you- orders you. “Or you won’t get fuckin’ nothin’ but a whuppin’ when we get home.”

You don’t- you don’t want a whuppin’. You can be good.

Sniffling once more, you nod and rest yourself against his chest, nuzzle into his neck with a shuddering little mewl.

“I’ll be good, daddy,” you promise- soft, sincere, words just whiny enough to make him huff. “I promise.”

“That’s my girl.”

A snap of fingers, a deep inhale, the scent of a freshly lit cigarette. You melt into Dabi as he smokes and you close your eyes, let yourself be rocked into something content and almost peaceful by the gentle swaying of the subway car- a smile on your lips and tears drying on your cheeks, your cunt throbbing with more and more need with each passing stop.

[necros-writing-stuff]

Fucked up love interests you say? Can I request Eden getting sick of Avery keeping his kid from the woods, so Eden breaks into Avery's place, ties to to a chair and makes him watch as Eden ruin's his kid. He wanted to rail them in his cabin, but fucking them stupid in front of their dad works too. Better if it starts as noncon, but the PC is addicted to Eden's cock by the end.

Would Avery get off on watching this, even with how much he hates Eden?

Got a little carried away here, so under the cut for length

Eden comes into town looking for supplies, same old, same old, only this time his eyes end up falling on non other than stuck-up Avery coming out of an expensive looking jewelers with the prettiest little thing Eden has ever seen following soon after.

He's overjoyed when you call out "Father!" to get the businessman's attention. He's your dad, not your daddy. That's good, Eden doesn't like the thought of that fucker having touched you.

Immediately, fantasies about bringing you home and having you sit in his lap so you can cockwarm him while he reads rush through his mind, and the hunter finds himself trailing the two of you to Avery's car. And memorising the make, model, and licence plate.

It takes so long to find out where you live. Big, fancy house with a pristine garden - no suprise there. Then he has to watch and find out when you'll be home alone. Easier to get you that way. Then he had to call in favours from Bailey to get some stuff to disable the over the top security system.

One day, when he's walking past, he bumps into Avery by accident. The rich prick had the audacity to sneer at him and tell him to get out of the neighbourhood, that his mere presence is bringing down the property value, before shoving past and entering his gated community. Looks like someone hasn't grown since school. If he'd stayed a moment longer, Eden would have started throwing punches.

Instead, Eden's plans to get you alone and take you away secretly morph into something else. Something more vengeful.

When the time comes, he slips in through a window and silently makes his way up to the master bedroom. Avery sleeps peacefully, in silk pyjamas of all things, and the hunter gags him before he begins binding the man. He wakes up half way through, but its too late at that point.

Avery struggles against the rope and tries to scream, skin going red at how angry he is. Its funny to see, actually. Such a high and mighty man reduced to this. The hunter drags his catch out of his room, across the hall, and into the room of his sleeping prey.

You wake up, hearing the racket, and freeze in shock at what you see before you yell out for your father. Still, you hide beneath your blanket - as if it'll protect you from anything. You don't need to be scared anyways, you're about to have the ride of your life.

Eden drops Avery on the floor, maybe purposely letting his head bounce against the wood for his own entertainment, before marching over to you and ripping away the covers.

Kick and scream all you like, the hunter finds it easy to tear your clothes off and wrestle you into submission. You're so small and delicate, you need to be protected and cared for properly - and considering what happening now, clearly the businessman isn't capable of doing that.

Just like your father, Eden ties you up. Unlike him, you're not gagged. He wants to hear you beg for him at some point tonight. Wants to hear you moan out when you cum on his prick.

"You did a good job making this one," he praises as his hands trail all over your bare skin. Avery still flails on the floor, voice going hoarse from all that screaming he's been doing. Tough luck, he's stuck until Eden decides otherwise.

You're crying and shaking, begging to be let go as the hunter flips you onto your back and spreads your legs to get a good look at that pretty little hole. His mouth waters, and he can't help himself from having a taste.

He's never gone down on someone before. He hopes you enjoy the way his tongue teases, the way he fucks you open with it.

"Please, mister, please stop!" your voice quivers as you say it, obviously affected by the stimulation he's giving you. Maybe you're just trying to put up a front for dear old dad, so he doesn't think you're a whore. It's okay, Eden will still give you what you need.

Your taste is amazing, he thinks. You're amazing, body so perfect, voice so sweet. He could tongue-fuck you all day, but tonight he has other things in mind.

The hunter is breathing heavily by the time he comes up for air, desperately hard in his pants. He nearly tears them when he shoves the fabric down his thighs, letting his massive cock out and laying over you so you can see exactly how deep it will go. The thing reaches your belly-button.

Eyes wide, you try to wiggle away. "No, it's too big! Please, it'll hurt, mister, please-"

Not listening, Eden presses the thick head to your spit-slickened hole and starts pushing in, savouring how you gasp out and go stiff. A loud bump from the floor let's him know Avery is still trying to get loose. Frustrated screams tell him it's not coming along great.

Bottoming out, Eden leans over your body and starts fucking into you like an animal, squeezing out every whimper and whine that he can from between your lips.

Full, is how you feel. So incredibly full and it's hard to breathe from how this stranger batters your poor hole. Each drag of his dick against your gummy walls send a million jolts of pleasure through your body, and you want to cry harder from the guilt that it makes you feel.

Your father is there! Bound, being forced to watch as you're raped - as you enjoy being raped - in your own bed! Who was this man, anyways? A competitor? No, he's not dressed like a man your father would bother with. He looks wild and uncaring. Rugged. And unfortunately, handsome.

"Such a delicate thing, aren't you? You'll make a wonderful spouse when I get you home," he says as he pounds away, before turning once again to Avery. "You're not going to see them again after tonight. You don't deserve to have such a sweet thing as yours. Can't even protect them in your own home."

It makes you nauseous to hear the plans he has for you. That you're about to be abducted and kept god-knows where by this mad-man with a grudge. Will he hurt you? Will you be forever kept captive?

You can't look at your father. You can't see the heartbreak, anger, maybe even disgust that could be on his face. That would be a sight that would haunt you in your dreams, and you want your memories of him to be good ones. Like the times he takes you for icecream after you do well on tests, or takes you to wonderful parties where you can wear your best clothes. Instead, you study the wild man above you. Focus on the stranger's long hair and muscled body. Try to steady your breathing and hold in moans as a coil forms in your stomach.

One last time, you attempt to get away, only to be pulled right back onto his length. The change in angle makes it hit something inside of you just right, and you keen in a high pitched tone. So good, it feels so good, and you hate this man for it.

Eden loves the dazed look in your eyes as he hammers at that special spot. How he can see all logic leave, replaced by lust and a need to get off. So he stays consistent in his movements, giving you exactly what you need, so he can feel you tighten around him, ready to milk his cock like a good little pet.

Back arching, your whole body shakes as you reach your peak, incoherent babbling falling from your mouth. Its all so hot, so addicting to see, and the hunter joins you in your bliss soon after.

Dick still twitching, Eden stays buried inside of you. He'll be starting up another round in a minute or two, but he wants to treasure this moment. Treasure how you've become putty in his hands, not even whining when he leans over and kisses you. You have such soft lips.

"Good pet. There's plenty more where that came from, I promise. You just have to keep being so well behaved, just for me," he whispers into your ear, placing butterfly kisses along your neck as he does so.

Reluctantly, he pulls back. A certain someone had gone quiet, and the last thing he needs is the bastard getting free and starting a fight.

Luckily, Avery is still where he left him. Must have gave up fighting, instead laying there with his cheek smushed against the polished floorboards, breathing hard through his nose.

"Tired already? Come on, you've barely moved. Fucking pathetic, really. What, don't love your kid enough to make a real effort to save them?" there's no reaction from the businessman, so Eden pushes further. "Nah, you're all performative. Only pretending to care so they'll be obedient and keep your reputation up, right?"

That gets his attention. Earns Eden a seething glare that only makes him laugh. Then it's back to you. To caressing your cheek as he starts pumping his hips again.

"I'll care for you, genuinely. I promise. You'll never have to doubt me," he coos, a hand coming between your legs to play with your sensitive sex. You arch up into his touch with a moan, too tired to deny your body the things it seeks.

Preserve your energy, you tell yourself. Be pliant and good so you can fight back later. Don't think about how right it feels to be impaled on this man's prick, how mind-blowing your orgasm was.

Limp, covered in his own sweat, and full of solemn defeat, Avery watches from across the room. Sorrow is what he feels, along with rope burn across his skin perfect, cared for skin. Sorrow that, yet again, Eden has won. That he can't break free of these ropes despite working so hard to keep in shape. That his only child is being defiled by such a brute.

Avery can't do anything as his baby is fucked into oblivion over and over again. Can't tune out the moment you stop begging for it to end and instead ask for more. You're only trying to please the hunter, he reasons. Only being submissive so you aren't hurt, you're smart like that.

At least, that's what he hopes.

[tipsydipsydo]

➳ Rough Sex

➳ Size Kink!

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 860

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut!

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Rough Sex; Doggy Style; Size Kink; Big Dick! Joon; Finger-Sucking; Petnames; Degradation; Pussy-Slapping; Neck-Biting; Edging; slight Exhibitionism; kinda Filming/Watching Kink? (you'll understand it when you've read it xD); unprotected Sex (please stay safe!!)

A/N: Yes, I kept my promises and wrote another requested drabble for you guys! Also, @itscalledgayhoney I'm so, so, so sorry that I still didn't wrote your requested Smut (I will write it!! ...someday ^^°) but I thought this Drabble Request is very similar to yours so I thought you could like it as well. Send much Love!! 🤗💕

[Links]:

▪ BTS Smut Drabbles I My Writings

▪ Blog Navigation 

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

"Gosh Babe, I really wish you could see how your sweet tiny pussy is all stretched out by my fat cock... fuck, I love to see your gaping hole desperately clenching around nothing when I pull all the way out!", growls Namjoon from behind into your ear. His voice dropped three octaves lower since he shoved his dick deep down into you.

You're on all your fours on the bed while Namjoon is pounding into you roughly from behind, filling you out with the enormous girth of his cock up to the possible maximum. In the right angle, just like now, his engorged tip is brushing against the entrance of your cervix.

His beyond belief big dick let you see stars every time you two have sex No matter if it's sweet and gentle love making or a rough, almost primal fuck. Well, but when he's fucking you raw and roughly, then he's able to fuck your cute brain all out of your head, ruining you so good that you end up to be his stupid-fucked cockslut. Honestly? You love it.

Your whimpers and moans are muffled by his middle and ring finger, he stuffed them into your mouth to keep you at least a little more quiet. It's a blessing and at the same time a curse that you're a loud girl when it comes to sexual activities.

He's truly obsessed with your moans and screams. No matter if it's out of pleasure or pain, he loves them. But unfortunately your neighbors are not quite fond of it and before you're kicked out of your beloved apartement, he would rather muffle your noises with his fingers, a ball-gag or his own dick.

Maybe one of your dildos would make also a great job for it.

You mewl out in need and desperation when Namjoon's thrusts goes more slower and sloppier, wanting him to keep up with his hard and merciless pace. "No, no, no! Please, f-fuck, please Daddy, don't slow down! I-I want you to ruin me with your cock, please!", you whimper in a pathetic whiny voice. Your hips buck almost automatically up, trying to get him as deep as possible again. After that doesn't worked, you clench down on purpose onto his massive cock. Really, you want nothing more than to keep him into your pussy.

A deep, almost animalistic grunt leaves his throat, biting down harshly into your neck and giving you a hard slap on your clit. Out of surprise and pain you loose up so he took the opportunity to quickly pull out.

"Such a greedy bitch you are, sucking my cock into your slutty pussy hole and begging me to keep up with my hard fucking, hm? Oh my sweet Fuckdoll, I just got an Idea and I think you'll like it~ Je a good girl and give me a second to set everything up, yeah? Don't be a brat, I don't have the nerve to even punish you tonight."

You nod weakly, trying your best to stay in your exposed position without letting out some whines or rubbing your thighs together too obviously.

After a few minutes you hear Namjoon return to your shared bedroom. You let a confused hum out when he places your laptop in front of your face. The Video-Call App is opened on your screen and is "calling" Namjoon's Profile.

A strangled moan leaves your swollen lips when Namjoon picks the call up. You finally understand what's going on in the filthy mind of your handsome boyfriend and you absolutely love it!

"Come Princess, spread your thighs for Daddy a little more...", says Namjoon and push your thighs gently with his knee apart. On the screen in front of you, you see how your boyfriend switch from the front camera to the back camera. Within a second you are face-to-face with your own bare ass cheeks. You both enjoy the virtual sight but that's not what Namjoon wanted to show you. The focus of his camera drops lower.

A speechless long whine leaves your throat, now you're parting your legs even more. You're literally feeling how fucking wet you get from the picture you have on your laptop screen. Without intention you clench your dripping hole again and fuck, you never thought you could turn yourself so much on!

"Hm, Babygirl? Do you like what you see? Do you like watching your own pussy dripping for Daddy's big cock? Yes, you do. I knew my little whore would like that! Now reach back and pull your nice round ass cheeks apart for me, I want to show you how good I can stretch your sweet, delicate holr out. How good I can fill you up, fucking you open with my fat cock and make you gape of it~", growls Namjoon's deep voice and both of you moan loud out when you two watch how Namjoon enters your clenching hole.

Fuck the Neighbors and their complaints about your filthy noises!

[caramelcal]

Songwriting and Fake Dating {3}

Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: hey guys! hope you all enjoy this one as you enjoyed the last one...

this is dedicated to charlie’s mustache. rip :(

also thanks to the person who originally requested this, legend behavior hahah :) hope you guys are having a wonderful night lovelies x 

disclaimer: I do not condone the use of my work/writing without my permission. The only place this has been posted is on my (rosemoonmist) tumblr account. This has not been posted on any other platform either. If you see any plagiarism of my work please let me know! <3 People work hard on their fics, so don’t steal them ty.

taglist:@gia-kerks​ @phantompogues​ @thesweetestsinner​ @honeyheartzz​ @ifilwtmfc​ @hoechx​ @merceret​ @katrin-okay​ @diosa75​

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Another line is drawn right through the words he tried to write. Luke wants to throw his notebook at the wall. He can’t think, or write, the words just aren’t coming to him anymore. He claws at his hair as if pulling on the strands will allow his brain to breathe and come up with the lyrics he had been trying to write for the past two hours. It used to be so easy but he knows why it isn’t working. It wasn’t rocket science.

The words came easy when he was with you, maybe it was the excitement of having someone to write with, or maybe it was the emotions that you both pulled from. It just wasn’t the same anymore. It’s almost like you were the inspiration, the lyrics, and now that you were no longer there, the lyrics weren’t either. Even if you guys didn’t know each other that long and you weren’t the closest, you guys seemed to click and you wrote so much better with each other.

Maybe he just needs a breather. That’s what Luke banks on, that once he goes outside and caught wind of the fresh air, the words will come back. He places down his guitar and his pen and sets out for outside.

Before long, he finds himself sitting on the back porch, one knee up next to his chest and the other splayed in front of him. His eyes are trained upon the dark sky, watching the stars. He barely hears the quiet footsteps that approach him but he sees them sit down beside him, knees up to their chest, hugging them.

“Carrie,” Luke acknowledges, not even looking towards his step-sister when he breaks the silence between the two.

“Luke.”

They fall back into another silence for a few moments, simply watching the stars together. However, Luke’s attention isn’t really on the stars anymore as he thinks about the girl beside him. He remembered when his mom first told him that she was getting remarried and that he was going to get a step-sister. He remembers when they met, and Carrie was just a little too entitled for his taste, and Luke was a little too “street” for hers. They didn’t exactly get off on the best foot, and there were times that there was still some friction in their relationship which certainly wasn’t helped when Luke joined Julie and the Phantoms, but there were times that they were okay; when they shared a sibling bond.

It was hard for both of them to get used to each other, and their parents getting married. For Luke, it had been just him and his mom for a while, so he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive for this new life, not only for him to have a new step-dad and step-sister, but in case this man hurt his mom too. Yet, for Carrie it was different, it had always just been her and Trevor after her mom died during labor. She didn’t know what it was like having a mom, and she didn’t know if she wanted it. Arguably, she was scared; scared that her dad would no longer have time for her and would be spending it all with Emily but that definitely wasn’t the case.

Actually, everything worked out quite well, and soon enough Luke and Emily were moving into the Wilson’s household. It was a strange experience for Luke like he was invited into a whole other world. They came from very different backgrounds, Luke and Emily had never been well off, but Carrie never had to worry about not being able to pay the bills or anything to do with that, so their personalities were quite different. Yet, over the past few weeks, they had become significantly closer and spent more time talking to each other. Luke would show Carrie the songs you guys wrote, and Carrie would show Luke the choreography that you guys had been working on.

They knew exactly why they had become closer, they weren’t stupid. It was all because of you, you were their common ground. You brought the two siblings together.

“You miss her,” Luke comments, breaking the everlasting silence as he glances over at his sister. She isn’t facing the sky anymore and is instead looking down at her legs. It’s been two weeks since you and Carrie fought, where Carrie kicked you out of Dirty Candy, and she hadn’t spoken to you since.

Carrie is quiet for a few moments, almost as if she is battling herself on whether or not she should answer Luke, but she does, quietly, “Of course I do, she’s my best friend.”

A silence fills the air yet again, and Luke doesn’t know whether or not to answer Carrie. The girl has never actually opened up to him before, so for her to tell him that she was missing you was something that was new territory for the both of them. He knew that she missed you, you would have to be insane not to and he was pretty sure this was the longest that Carrie had ever gone without talking to you, so it was like life had been shifted entirely.

“You miss her too,” It’s a simple statement that Carrie makes, but it makes Luke sigh. He does, of course he does. He can’t even write without you.

“She won’t pick up my calls,” Luke says, ducking his head down as he traces the patterns on the ground of the porch. At this rate, he’s probably called you like twenty times in the last week but he always gets sent to voicemail. He knows it’s intentional, but every time he picks up his phone and presses the dial button, there’s a part that hopes you’ll pick up; that you’ll come over and wrote songs with him.

“I won’t pick up hers either,” Carrie admits, biting her lip as she continues to watch the sky, “The dirty candy girls have been bashing her, for putting the band in second place. I just want to scream at them to stop.”

“You should, it isn’t y/n’s fault. She was on her way to the studio that day but I dragged her up to my room. She lost her best friend for just helping me out with a dumb song.”

Carrie knows that Luke feels guilt for all of this. All three of them are miserable without each other and they all know it. Yet, they’re all filled with too much pride to apologize, or even to pick up one another’s calls. They know that they can’t go on like this, because as it goes on they all just feel worse and worse, but no one seems willing to make the first move.

“She always goes out her way to help others, huh?” Carrie says, reminiscing on the number of people that you have helped in the time that you guys have been friends. She remembers the way you give the Dirty Candy girls your water and snacks when they forgot theirs, meaning that you would often to without, helping old people cross the street and just being generally helpful.

You were always so eager to help anyone and everyone, no matter who it was, and that was something that Carrie always admired about you, “Most helpful person I know.”

After Luke’s statement, they are enveloped in another silence, both watching the sky peacefully before a shooting star flies overhead. They don’t speak of it, simply enjoying one another’s company which isn’t something they often find themselves doing. Deep down, they both like each other’s company, and each other, but they never say anything, both too stubborn to do so.

After a few more minutes, Luke gets up, lightly patting his sister on the shoulder, “You should answer her calls, Car.”

. . .

Being a waitress was actually surprisingly fun for you. Normally, you enjoyed serving customers, interacting with people and it was a way to get some extra money. However, right now you wanted nothing less than to be out of here, despite having hours left of your shift; in fact, you had just started.

Normally, customers were respectful and nice, but this one...this one was testing your limits. What made it worse, was that it was none other than Kayla, Carrie’s replace best friend for you and she was shouting, trying to embarrass you in front of not only the customers but in front of your colleagues as well. She’s with a few other friends, but Carrie isn’t there.

Passing you a smirk, she wipes her hand across the table, purposefully making the cutlery drop, “Pick it up, waitress.”

The rest of her group snicker as you try to hold the embarrassed blush that rises to your face. Closing your eyes momentarily, you sigh, “Kayla, I know I haven’t been the best band member but-”

“I don’t think you get it, y/n,” Kayla cuts you off, standing up and walking right in front of you, “Carrie has already told you that you’re done. I hope you would at least have a bit of dignity and to accept that instead of coming begging to me after Carrie didn’t pick up your calls.”

After she says that, Carrie obnoxiously chews on her gum, the other girls snickering. Looking around at them, their eyes on you as they laughed let you clearly know that you were no longer friends with any of the Dirty Candy girls. They were only friends with you to get in with Carrie and it makes you feel dumb that you didn’t realize that beforehand.

“Pathetic,” Kayla spits, looking up and down at the sight of your ducked head.

“Hey, watch it would you Kayla? I think you forget that even though Carrie is annoyed at y/n right now, as soon as she gets over that y/n will be right where she belongs in Dirty Candy again and as Carrie’s best friend,” Julie speaks up from the booth beside them, eyes squinting at the girl, “I think you’re letting this all go to your head too much.”

“You have no idea what Carrie is like, Julie. Plus, even if you told her that I was being a bitch to y/n she won’t listen to you,” Kayla snorts, rolling her eyes at the other girl.

“She’ll listen to her brother though, and we all know that he’ll believe me over you,” Julie responds sassily, Alex and Reggie who were beside her sharing glances. Often, they didn’t like to get involved in drama, and Julie didn’t either but just hearing how these girls were treating you made them feel horrible.

“Whatever,” Kayla says, rolling her eyes again before standing up, “Let's go girls, there seems to be a loser convention going on in here right now.”

Kayla doesn’t seem to be embarrassed, but you know well enough that she is getting out of there before she shows it. The girls are quick to follow behind her, all brushing you off and acting better than you as they pass.

Yet, you don’t pay attention to them for long as you turn towards the girl, giving her a small smile, “Thanks, Julie.”

“No problem, y/n,” Julie smiles, turning her head towards you sweetly. Noticing Alex and Reggie looking at you, you give them a shy wave and a smile before your attention is turned back towards Julie, “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course, what’s up?” You’re prepared to take Julie’s order, considering that is what you expected her to want you to do but what she says next surprises you.

“Don’t be too hard on Luke, he really didn’t mean to get in between you and Carrie. And we just wanted to say that even if you don’t get back in with Dirty Candy, our band will always be open for you.”

. . .

It’s much later in the night, the café empty apart from you, humming softly a tune from a song you can’t remember the name of. You’re dancing a little as you give the tables one last wipe down before making your way behind the counter again. It was your turn to lock up for the night, the other waitresses already away home but you actually liked it when it was like this.

You didn’t even have the lights on as you took of your small apron-like thing and hung it up. Reaching for the keys, you stop when you hear the bell ringing, signaling that someone had entered the shop. Could they not read the closed sign?

“Sorry, we’re closed right now-” You say, whirling around and meeting hazel eyes, voice cutting off when you saw who was standing there. Clearing your throat, you shift awkwardly between two feet, “Luke.”

“Hey y/n,” Luke says softly, his hair is messy under his navy colored beanie, but you know you can’t talk, yours probably looks a lot worse. He takes a step towards you before speaking again, his voice still soft, “We need to talk.”

[just-a-creep-babe]

Kinktober Day 4

Jeff the Killer: Hate Fucking & Against a Wall

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

It’s been a shitty week

You failed not only one but two missions, managed to make a nice big crack down the front of your phone, and to top it off, you haven’t slept with anyone in way too long and you‘re horribly sexually frustrated

The good thing is that the week‘s finally over, and you have the weekend to recuperate—and until then, a training session could help blow off some steam

So as you make your way down the twisting corridors of the mansion’s basement, your thoughts begin to wander

You end up so caught up in your own head that you don’t notice someone’s footsteps catching up to you

You don’t pay it much mind until a knife is suddenly lodged into the wall next to you, just inches from your face

And you swear to god, your blood boils knowing who’s responsible on the other end

“Just what the fuck is your problem?” you spit, eyes narrowing at the raven haired killer now blocking your path

“Don’t fuckin’ play stupid. You think it’s funny to be a snitch? Hm?”

He doesn’t leave you much time to react as he slams his hands either side of you, forcing you between a rock and a hard place

“Slender’s not letting me kill for the next two fucking weeks because you can’t keep your little fucking mouth shut” he continues, jagged lips curling into a snarl

You ball your fists at your sides, already feeling the anger burning in your system

“Listen, fuckface,” you hiss “Stop trying to pin your problems down on me. I didn’t tell shit—and you’re nowhere near worth that kind of effort anyways. Maybe try getting a fucking grip for once in your goddamn life”

You shove him off as hard as you can, knowing he wouldn't move otherwise

The effort is enough to have him stumbling back before he catches himself, and if looks could kill, his obsidian glare would’ve been more than enough to do you in just about now

But before he can open his mouth again, you spin on your heels and walk away as fast as you can, hoping he’ll get the hint that now really isn’t the time 

Yet, of course, he doesn’t let you escape

His hand yanks at your shoulder as he turns you back to face him, all but slamming you into the wall again so he‘s caging you in

“Don’t you fucking try to run from me,” he sneers “And cut the fucking bullshit for once—we both know damn well you’re more into me than you let on”

Your face burns with anger—or maybe it’s a mix of shame and humiliation

“As if. Your head’s too far up your own ass to realize no one could ever like a crispy, edgy rat’s ass crouton dick of a—“

He doesn’t let you finish before gripping your jaw, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips up to meet his

His mouth is rough and scarred and tastes of blood with the faintest trace of alcohol

Your brows furrow, face scrunching up, though it admittedly takes you a moment before you shove him off of you

Part of you twinges in regret for not biting him instead

He catches his balance for the second time today and licks his lips, and there’s a wonderfully dark and dangerous look in his eyes that has your stomach doing flips

“God, I fucking hate you” you mutter

And then you’re grabbing his hoodie and pulling him back down again

His teeth clash against yours as he forces your lips to part, cramming his tongue down your throat and making you gasp around it

He shoves you harder against the wall, trapping you beneath his warm, strong build to ravage your mouth as roughly as he likes—leaving you breathless and your thoughts swimming, wholly and utterly consumed by him

A pathetic sound is muffled by him at the back of your throat, and then you’re moving your hands down to his pants, wanting to free him so that he can just fuck you up already

You hate yourself for sinking so low, but you might actually implode if you don’t get dicked down soon

“See? Fucking knew you were desperate for my cock”

It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to punch him in his stupid face

“Will you just shut up for once in your goddamn life and—“

He cuts you off by clamping his teeth down on your neck—hard—and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out for him

“You’re way too fucking cocky for your own good” he threatens 

His hands practically rip at your pants, shoving them down to your ankles before doing the same to your panties

Except that your underwear actually do tear in half, and before you can complain, he’s shoving the fabric into his back pocket, picking you up by your thighs, and slamming you back against the wall so that all that’s supporting you are your legs hooked around his waist

“You fucking prick!” you seethe

“Keep whining and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to speak when I’m done with you”

A hard smack to your ass has you biting back a cuss, and you’ve never wanted to wipe someone’s stupid self-satisfied smirk off more than you do now

“Bratty slut”

He grounds himself between your legs, rocking into you so you can feel his cock twitch and strain through the coarse material of his jeans

The denim presses harshly into your folds, and it has you rubbing yourself harder into him, clenching your jaw so he can’t hear you whining for more

Any other time, you’d be downright embarrassed at the way you’re soaking the front of his pants

But you really couldn’t give less of a shit about his clothes right now, especially after he ruined your underwear 

“Jeff, will you fucking just—“

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he slams his hips against you, right into your poor, throbbing little clit

Jolts of arousal spike up your body, making your thighs tighten around him and he grunts at the feeling

“What’s that, little slut?”

You want him

You want him to ruin you before he has you cuming just by grinding against him and it gives him something to make fun of you for

But you’ll be damned if you end up begging for it

“I’m gonna change my fucking mind about this if you don’t fuck me properly right fucking now” you hiss

He scoffs, though you feel him shift to tug himself free

“As if. Stop acting so fucking high and mighty like you don’t want this”

He presses the tip flush to your entrance and you’re already clenching for him

“I’ll fucking enjoy putting you in your place, (y/n)”

One slow, unwavering push of his hips and he’s spreading your walls, his thick length brushing over your most sensitive nerves, sending delightful shivers up your body and coaxing sickly sweet moans from your lips

“You fucking like that, don’t you? You want someone to take you down a peg and treat you like the slut you are, huh?”

“God—j-just shut the fuck up!”

He gives a few short thrusts but alas, patience not being his virtue, it isn’t long before he’s ramming himself into you over and over again

His thrusts are rhythmic and hard and unbearably deep, and they have your cunt making the most obscene noises because of how absolutely drenched you are for him

He’s like a wall of muscle—hard and strong and wonderfully firm as he drags his cock from your cunt before pounding all the way back into you

It takes every ounce of restraint you have not to mewl shamelessly for him like you know he wants you to

Instead, you rake your fingers down his hoodie, and it has him growling into your ear as he works himself in and out your tight, slick heat

Your muffled cries only spur him on to screw you faster and harder until your head’s falling back against the wall and you’re practically seeing stars

Your walls clench tightly—a loud, unrestrained moan slipping from your lips despite your best efforts to quiet it

He grunts, caught up in the euphoria, and roughly thrusts himself into you a few more times until you’re just teetering on the brink of your climax

You whine his name, your breath hitching, adrenaline pumping through your system as a thick knot coils in your gut

“You close, (y/n)? Hm? Little slut gonna cum all over my dick already?”

“F-fuck—yes!~” you gasp

He hits a spot inside of you that has you tensing around him, and all at once, your climax crashes into you in relentless waves of euphoria

Your legs tighten, thighs shuddering around him but he still doesn’t stop, pumping into you until his thrusts dissolve into something sloppy and borderline animalistic

And then he twitches against your clenching walls and cusses, pressing himself as deep as he can so you can feel him releasing his cum deep inside you

His breath is warm and ragged against your neck as he stills inside you, only barely grinding into you while catching his breath

Your body feels like it’s on fire

When he eventually pulls out, you can’t help but flinch, feeling all kinds of pleasantly numb and overstimulated 

But for the sake of your own pride, you order your legs not to give out as he sets you back down

“Meet me in the showers when you’re done training” he grunts as he zips himself back up

You snort

“You? Shower? Don’t make me laugh”

The afterglow of your orgasm has a grin tugging at your lips as he flips you off when he walks away

[dulce-pjm]

hmm for the mix and match drabbles how about established relationship + prompt 19!!! OR bakery/flower shop/bookstore au + prompt 6!!! you can pick!!!

hmm i see your options and i raise you this: why not all?

lol an epic crossover of prompts: au #3 - established relationship!au, au #2 - bakery/flower shop/bookstore!au, prompt #19 - “No, I have a [girlfriend/boyfriend].” “That’s me! How much did you drink?”, and prompt #6 - “One more kiss.”

make your own request here using these prompts!

bakin’ me crazy

jimin x reader

word count: 3.4k

genre: fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship!au, bakery!au

summary: despite having one disaster on top of the other and then some, you can’t help but feel better when he’s around

a/n: apologies in advance. i think we’re all learning that i’m a pun-lover and that probably won’t change

It’s everywhere. 

There’s sugar in your hair and lashes, coating your cheeks and sweater, even under your nails and somehow you swear you feel it between your toes. 

It’s been a long day. Up at the crack of dawn to open up shop, meeting with customers until noon, and now you’d found yourself baking way past your bedtime to keep up with all the orders. There’s nothing you’d like more than to eat your weight in cupcakes and enter the subsequent sugar coma on your couch, never to be disturbed again. 

But just as you’d pulled that last batch of cupcakes out of the oven, just as you’d started whipping up a fresh batch of icing, disaster struck. 

You should have known better, should have thought to check. Sunny was frantic yesterday as she rushed out the door, completing her tasks as quickly as she could so as not to leave too much work for you but still be present for the birth of her child who was not supposed to be due for three more weeks. You’d tried to calm her down, tell her to go home already, but you eventually learned that pre-parental panic is just as bad in real life as it is in the Sims4 and let her do what she needed to relieve stress. 

Which included restocking the powdered sugar. 

And in her tizzy, Sunny hadn’t noticed that this bag, the very one she placed on the edge of the shelf, had a hole in it. And you, in your own tizzy of work and stress, hadn’t noticed how it began to slump over, dangerously close to falling. You hadn’t noticed the impending explosion of powdered sugar until it had detonated on top of your head. 

No part of the kitchen seemed to be spared. While you were sputtering and stumbling backwards, wielding your spatula like a weapon as if it could help you, the fine powder coated all of your fresh cupcakes (which were still hot. and thus now had a weird film of dissolved powdered sugar on top), fell onto the clean dishes drying by the sink. 

When the dust settles, you think about crying. Seriously consider it. After the past day and a half, you definitely deserve it. 

Why couldn’t one thing go right today? And now you’ll have to stay even later just to clean things up and check to see if the cupcakes are salvageable. You’re tired and you’re hungry and you really just need a hug. Is that too much to ask for?

And suddenly the tears are pricking at your eyes and you’re sniffling and hiccuping and still covered in sugar. You feel pathetic and exhausted and miserable, the terrible feeling welling in your chest with every passing moment. 

The front door of the shop swings open, the bell attached to it ringing sharply. Who the hell comes into a bakery at this late? And what the hell did you think you were doing, not locking the door earlier?

“We’re closed!” you manage, voice choked as you scramble to your feet, slightly nervous at the sudden intrusion. 

“It’s me, Y/N!” You recognize Taehyung’s voice instantly, though it doesn’t stop you from being confused. “Sorry for stopping by so late, I have Chim with me and he wouldn’t quit asking for you and I saw the lights on— What the hell happened to you?” 

You’ve fully collected yourself, walking out of the kitchen and into the lobby to find your boyfriend of a few months with his arm wrapped around your friend of many years, staring at the floor and giggling to himself. You’re still a bit flustered, inexplicably covered in powdered sugar and very confused by the sight in front of you. 

“Uh, long story?” you manage. “Well, not really. Just a freak accident in the kitchen.” You approach the two of them tentatively. “Is Jimin okay?”

 At the call of his name, he lifts his head and smiles rather stupidly when he sees you. In an instant, he parts himself from Taehyung and stumbles over to you, nearly crashing into a cake display in the process. 

“Y/N!” He wraps his arms around your waist, digging his nose into your neck and shoulder, no doubt covering his blonde strands in sugar as he nearly squeezes the air out of your lungs. 

“‘Missed you,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your sweater. 

Taehyung shakes his head, running a hand through his dark hair. “He about drank his own weight tonight at the bar, that’s all. Let Jungkook talk him into doing shots and well...” You nod knowingly, rubbing your palm up and down Jimin’s back. “He gave me a lot of trouble on the way here, he wouldn’t let up until we came to check on you.”

You laugh when Jimin squeezes you tighter, peppering kisses at the most ticklish spots on your neck. You’re surprised he’s not more talkative, normally babbling on about any and everything he can think of when he’s had enough to drink. 

“You get any good videos of them acting stupid?” Taehyung chuckles, pulling his phone from his pocket. 

“I’ll send them to you now. Jungkook was flirting with a pole for at least ten minutes before he realized.” You snort and Jimin smiles into your sweater, nearly pressing his entire body weight onto you and sending the both of you toppling. 

You know Taehyung’s tired, try as he might to hide it. You’ve always appreciated how attentive he was of your boyfriend when you couldn’t be. Their shared apartment is on the other side of town, which means either they were drinking nearby (unlikely, you all hated the bars around here) or Jimin had begged to come see you so much that Taehyung finally caved, despite his exhaustion. 

“You can leave him here, if you want. I’ll let him sleep on the couch.” Taehyung’s eyes go wide while Jimin is still blissfully unaware of what’s going on around him, snuggling into you like you’re his childhood stuffed animal. 

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. You’re clearly all tied up here—”

“It’s okay, Tae,” you insist, smiling warmly. “Go home and rest, I’ll take care of him from here.” There’s a moment where Taehyung opens his mouth to argue, but he closes it, seeing your expression. 

He sighs. “Alright, it’s your funeral,” he jokes. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

“No problem.” 

The bells tingle again as Taehyung leaves, bracing himself against the night air. 

“Alright, sleepyhead,” you tease, ruffling Jimin’s hair. “You’re gonna have to let go of me a minute so I can clean up.” 

You shuffle backwards in spite of his grumbling protests, dragging a chair into the kitchen for him to sit on. You peel him off of you while he’s spouting incoherent sentences, gently guiding him into the chair. 

It’s difficult to resist him when he gives you those puppy dog eyes and that pout like he’s going to cry if you don’t pull him into your arms again, but you remain stern, though smiling slightly at this face and clothes that have also become victim to the powdered sugar explosion, via his contact with you. 

He giggles upon fulling taking you in. 

“You look like you got snowed on,” he says, propping his chin in his hand to keep it from bobbing too much. You shake your head, a cloud of white dust falling off of you when you do. “What happened?”

“You don’t look much better, love bug. And it’s sugar.” His brows furrow in confusion before he licks his lips, smile widening at the taste. “I’ll just clean it up and then we can go home, m’kay?”

“You should let me kiss it off for you.”

You laugh, reaching for the broom while he watches you sleepily. “We’d be here all night.”

“I don’t mind,” he calls back in a sing-song voice, seeming more awake than before, or at least, more talkative. 

You get to work sweeping up the sugar, deciding to put the forgotten cupcakes in the fridge and worry about them in the morning. You’ve too soon forgotten that you were sobbing and contemplating staying here all night to finish this order a few minutes ago, Jimin’s presence, albeit pretty drunk, helping you think a bit more sensibly.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Uh-huh! Had sooooo much fun.” You sneak a glance at him, smiling softly at how his cheek is squished against his palm and his head is bobbing slightly. He starts mumbling something again and you can only catch a few words. 

“What was that?” He sighs as you dump some powdered sugar in the trash, grinning at him sweetly.

“I said you’re pretty, dummy.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly as he shakes his head to himself. “Always making me repeat myself when I compliment you.” He juts out his index finger in your direction as his words slur together. “I know your dirty tricks.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, deciding to tease him further. “Still can’t understand you, love.”

He cries out in frustration, throwing his arms out dramatically. “You’re hot! Is that what you wanna hear?” Now you can’t help but giggle at his pouting, always so easily riled up both sober and intoxicated. 

You kiss him on the top of his head as you pass by, putting away a few stray dishes. “You aren’t too bad yourself.” At that, he huffs, making a point not to look your way and give you the cold shoulder. 

You still have a few things left to tidy up and Jimin doesn’t question you further while you do them. It isn’t until you hear him snoring quietly as you wipe down the counters that you realize he’s nodded off, neck bent dangerously as his head leans against the kitchen wall. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing at his slack-jawed expression, approaching him quietly and snapping a quick picture. You immediately make it your new lockscreen, just to tease him in the morning. 

You remember the first time you met him, when Taehyung invited you to go get drinks along with the rest of your friends. The shop had been a mess and so were you, so Taehyung picked you up from work as soon as you were done as to keep you from just going home and sleeping. You’d slid into the backseat happily, Jungkook in shotgun and Jimin beside you. 

You hadn’t given him many glances, just polite greetings and small talk, not until he quietly informed you that you had hot pink frosting on your forehead and nose and you were thoroughly embarrassed. Luckily, one thing led to another and the minute you had any alcohol in your system, you were pressed against his side, rambling about the cupcake business and your passion for baking. His giggle was more intoxicating than the drinks and you found yourself unable to part from him. 

At the end of the night, you asked him to go on a date then and there, like a drunk idiot. And he said yes, also like a drunk idiot. 

Neither of you made it two steps before you were passed out in the back of Taehyung’s car, your head on his shoulder and his lying on top of yours. 

The next day, you swore you’d never drink again and hoped and prayed Jimin had forgotten the entire incident. But fate is both cruel and caring, and you’d picked up your phone a few hours into your workday to see a text from Jimin, inquiring about the promised date.

There’s still things to do and you definitely aren’t fully cleaned up, but you make the executive decision for yourself and Jimin to just go home before it’s past midnight and you’re really miserable. 

You remove your apron, tossing it in its designated bin at the back of shop, grabbing a bottle of water for Jimin and a defected cupcake (i.e. you knew you loved this flavor and purposely messed up the decoration so you could sneak it later) for yourself. Your boyfriend is still snoring quietly, head jerking painfully every few minutes as his hand struggles to it upright. You gently shake at this shoulders, keeping your voice low as to not startle him too much. 

“Hey, love bug,” you murmur. “Let’s go home, okay? Get you to bed.” He whines in his sleep, pulling away from you. 

“I can’t,” he mumbles. You laugh at his dramatics, grabbing his elbows as you try to coax him to his feet. 

“You can, promise. My apartment is just upstairs, remember?” It’d been nothing short of a coincidence that the space Sunny found for the business lied right underneath your apartment, but in times like these, it was definitely a blessing. 

He wags his finger in your face, his eyes barely opened. “Nuh-uh. No, I have a girlfriend.” You scoff incredulously, crossing your arms. 

“That’s me! How much did you drink?” His eyes open fully and he smiles sheepishly at his mistake. 

“Oh. Oops?” You roll your eyes, pulling him to his feet unceremoniously and shoving the water bottle in one hand, guiding the other around your shoulder. 

“I barely drank anything, really,” he insists as you lock the doors and turn off the lights. 

“Mhmm.”

“Like— Two sips!” he says, holding up three fingers.

“I believe you,” you lie. “Now drink some water.” He complies, though his eyes lie on the chocolate cupcake you’re taking a bite out of. You catch him staring quickly as you round the corner of the building, entering the hallway that leads to the stairs. You’d take the elevator, but you worry that if you don’t keep him moving, he’ll fall asleep where he stands, so you suck it up and prepare to climb three flights. 

Before he even has to ask, you stick the cupcake in his face and he smiles, licking a big chunk of the frosting right off the top. 

“Jimin!” you cry, yanking the cupcake back. “You know I hate when you do that! Enjoy the cupcake as it is or just ask me for some frosting.” He doesn’t seem the least bit guilty as you glare at him, pretending the leftover frosting on the corner of his cheek isn’t both tempting and adorable. 

“But I loooove the frosting!” he argues. “You know what else I love?” You already know what he’s going to say, he’d blurted out the “L word” on your two month anniversary, totally on accident. Luckily, the feelings were mutual. 

“Me?” He scrunches his nose. 

“What? No.” You gasp, offended. “I mean, yes, you know I do, but I wasn’t talking about that. I love the name of your shop.”

You blink at him twice. “You like ‘Bakin’ Me Crazy’?” You huff. “That was the biggest mistake of my life.” Now it’s his turn to be offended, stopping in his tracks and nearly sending you both falling back down the stairs. “Jimin—!”

“It’s an amazing name, Y/N!” he exclaims, brown eyes wide and earnest. “It’s cute.”

Hmmph. “If you say so, weirdo.”

“Cute like you,” he sings, loud enough to wake the entire building.

“Stop complimenting me. I’m still mad at you.” You shove the last bit of cupcake in your mouth, wiping the crumbs from your mouth with your thumb. He giggles, leaning closer to you. 

“I like you so much, did you know that?”

“I did.”

“I’d really like you if you gave me a piggyback ride, though.” You scoff. 

“You’re such a tease! You always lay it on thick when you want something.” You remember his words from earlier, wagging your finger in his face to copy him. “I know your dirty tricks.”

He sighs, acting extra tired as if to emphasize how deserving he is of a piggyback ride from you. You’d consider giving it to him, if you thought you were physically capable and you weren’t on a stairwell. 

He takes another sip of water as he pouts. “Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“No.”

“And whipped cream?” A laugh slips through your lips, all too soft for him when he’s acting cute like this. 

“What are you even talking about?” you giggle, unlocking the door to your apartment which is thankfully not far from the stairwell. “Just keep drinking that water. You’re gonna be so embarrassed in the morning.” You guide him to the side of the bed next to your dresser, helping him sit down. 

He makes grabby hands at you as you fish through your drawers for pajamas, muttering something about you abandoning him. 

You hold up a pair of bright orange fleece pants decorated with penguins. “You like these? All my sweats are in the wash.” You toss them into his lap when he nods happily. “Do you need help?” He yawns and blinks hard and you smile in satisfaction, seeing that his water bottle is half empty and he’s ever so slightly more sober. 

“I got it,” he says. You go into the bathroom, washing your face and changing into your own kiddish pajamas. When you come back into the bedroom, Jimin’s already tucked in with the covers pulled to his chin. 

You cross your arms. “I don’t remember inviting you into my bed, mister.” He smiles at you as you slide in next to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You’d had every intention of sending him to the couch out of fear that he’d puke on your sheets, but you reason that you’d be cold without him and you’d rather be close by if he did get sick. 

You dust the last of the powdered sugar off of his nose and brows, pressing your cheek into his chest, exhaustion already overcoming you. Underneath the alcohol, you can still smell the comforting scent of his vanilla lotion, lulling you to sleep. 

“Don’t fall asleep yet!” he suddenly exclaims, pushing you a few inches away. You groan, propping yourself on your elbow and wondering how the hell he’s still awake and bothering you. 

“What is it?” You blink a few times as he smiles cheekily. 

“One more kiss.” You scoff. “You still have sugar on your face. On your lips, actually. So I should get it for you.” 

You’re scoffing but oblige, smiling into the kiss as he slots his plush lips against yours, knowing very well you scrubbed the last of the sugar off your face moments ago. 

--

You wake up to your phone ringing rather rudely. You sigh, peeling yourself away from Jimin and laughing at his bedhead and the displeased expression he makes in his sleep, his face swollen and eyes shut tightly. 

“Hello?” you whisper, pulling yourself into a sitting position. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Once you register her voice, you can barely contain your excitement, bouncing on the bed once before reminding yourself that Jimin’s still asleep. 

“Sunny!” you whisper-yell. “How’s Jisoo and the baby? You a mom yet?” Your business partner laughs on the other end of the phone. 

“Oh, she’s fine. Just tired. The baby was born a few hours ago, but we’re still deciding on a name for her.” You grin. “So yeah, I’m a mom and you can be her unofficial auntie.”

“You’re gonna name her after me, right?” 

Sunny giggles tiredly on the other end of the phone. “I’ll add it to the list, don’t worry.” You’re about to tell her to go get some rest, but she interrupts you before you can. 

“Speaking of names! I got in contact with that guy about changing our sign so we can finally choose a different name for the business. You’re still serious about that, right?”

You glance at Jimin, his cheek squished against the pillow and lips puckered. You run your fingers through his blonde hair and he sighs contentedly. 

“Maybe we should leave it, for now.”

“What? But you said—”

“I know, I know. Let’s talk about it another time. Go get some sleep!” 

The two of you exchange a few more words of endearment and congratulations before you hang up, noting the sunlight cracking through your blinds. 

You know you need to get up soon. There’s still cupcakes to bake and customers to deal with and a temporary replacement for Sunny to find. 

But for a moment, you self-indulge, curling up next to Jimin, letting him wrap his arms around you and warm you back up. He digs his nose into your shoulder as you press a quick kiss onto his forehead, closing your eyes and drifitng back to sleep, feeling weightless as he holds you. 

[starshine583]

When One Thing Leads to Another

(Hey guys! This isn’t a fic, just an idea that I came up with and wanted to write about. Hope you all enjoy anyway!)

Flashing lights and blaring music. The perfect combination to either give someone a good time or a horrendous headache. Unfortunately, Felix was never known for partying; so he found himself suffering the latter. The pounding in his mind matched the beat of the speakers, and occasionally, a round of cheers and clinking glasses would spike the pain. Why did he agree to come here? He could be at home right now, reading a nice book in the quiet of his apartment. But no. He had to be at some ridiculous bar with his ridiculous cousin.

“Come to the club with us,” he’d said. 

“It’ll be fun,” he’d said.

Felix rolled his eyes and tipped his glass up to his lips, letting the bitter taste of his Bourbon Sour slide over his tongue and down his throat. Stupid Adrien. Why did he insist on dragging Felix to places he didn’t want to go? Why did his mother have to coax him to not reject the offer? Couldn’t they let him be a troglodyte in peace?

He set his cup back on the napkin that was acting as a makeshift coaster and thumbed the side of the glass, feeling the cold sweat from the ice drip down. Felix was half tempted to press the drink to his forehead in hopes that it would ease some of the ache from his on-coming migraine. Perhaps he should ask the bartender for headache medicine. Or better yet, just go home. He’s been there for at least an hour or so. That should satisfy whatever itch Adrien needed to scratch by bringing him along, right?

Felix swiveled around in his bar stool, scanning over the dancing crowds. Normally, he could spot his cousin from a mile away due to his raging fans, but tonight, the lights were dim, save for the blinding strobe lights, and everyone there was probably drunk out of their minds already or close to it. No one would be recognizing him any time soon. That was one of the reasons they attended this particular club in the first place.

This plan to blend in, however, worked only too well, because now Felix couldn’t see Adrien either. Too many people were dancing and shuffling around in the unsteady darkness for him to catch a proper glimpse of the facial features or hair colors. If he wanted to find Adrien, he would have to venture into the belly of the beast himself.

Felix swiveled back around in his stool and crossed his arms across the counter with a huff. He’d rather stew in this corner all night than try to navigate amongst those drunken morons. Adrien had to come up for a drink at some point. So he would simply talk to him then. 

Another bump on the counter rattled the stray glasses strewn across it, and Felix glances to the left. He expected to see a drunkard wobbling around or another shameless couple making out, but instead, he was met with the sight of a young woman. She appeared to be in her early twenties, certainly no older than himself, and quite displeased, if the quiet scowls and hissed curses were any indication.  

In a huff, she yanked a handful of napkins out of the nearest dispenser and began furiously dabbing a dark spot on the front of her cocktail, party swing dress. Felix assumed it must have been a spill, which was a pity. The dress had a magnificent pattern. Specks of red that vaguely reminded him of a swarm of Ladybugs curled around the pink fabric from the bottom of the dress to the top, and the white sash that was pinned around her waist with a jeweled butterfly brought out the halo of white that surrounded each of the red specks. The combination gave the enchanting impression that the insects were glowing, which was impressive. Whoever created that intricate piece of clothing certainly had a gift.

After scrubbing the stain for a good five minutes, the woman let out a heavy sigh and set the crumpled napkins back on the counter. She then slid into one of the bar stools, leaving an open seat between them, and let her face drop into her hands with a groan. Her steam from a few minutes ago must have worn off, because the only thing he could see in her slumped posture now was exhaustion.

Felix averted his gaze to take another sip of his drink. At least he wasn’t the only one who saw this club as a place of torment.

“Bartender,” He heard the woman say, her voice almost drowned out completely by the music, “Get me a tequila shot, please. Just one for now.”

The bartender nodded at the request and began shuffling around behind the counter to mix the drink. Felix watched it unfold out of the corner of his eyes- one can only stare for so long before getting caught -and wondered how many shots she planned on taking. Tequila was a decently strong beverage when taken without caution. One too many, and you’ll find yourself passed out on the floor or hurling up something unseemly in the washroom. He hoped for her sake and everyone else’s that she didn’t get drunk and turn into one of those loud-mouthed fools. Because if she started rambling obnoxiously right in his ear, Felix might be inclined to finally snap and go on a murder spree, starting with Adrien. 

The woman wasted no time downing the shot in one gulp, and the effects set it in immediately. A shudder ran over her body from the burning sensation, causing her to shake her head to counter it. Her raven hair twirled with the movement and curled around her shoulders and face, but she paid it little mind, merely brushing the locks back over her shoulder and out of the way.

“Come on, you can do this.” The woman muttered to herself as she fixed her short, slit, bell sleeves. “This is fine. We’re doing this for Adrien.”

Felix rose a brow. Was she talking to herself? How many drinks has she had exactly? 

“Oh, Felix~!” 

Thoughts of the woman were ripped away when he heard the coo of his name cutting through the crowd. Felix suppressed a groan, though he allowed a scowl to slip onto his lips. That would be Lila Rossi, his second headache. She was the one person he hated more than Bourgeois and his uncle combined. Why did Adrien even invite her? Was it pity? Blackmail? Another act of that false kindness of his? 

Whatever the reason, Felix wasn’t going to turn around and acknowledge that lunatic. The people bustling, cheering, and lazily singing around him were bad enough. He did not need some cheap, over-glorified ‘model’ hanging off of him on top of that. 

And yet, despite his efforts, Lila still managed to find him. She wrapped her arms around his neck with a sickly sweet laugh as though they were the best of friends or more, and it made him want to gag. Didn’t she have anything better to do than beg for his attention like some pathetic dog?

“There you are!” Lila sang, nuzzling her face against his. “Where have you been? I need a dancing partner.”

For once, Felix was glad that they were in a club, because there were no stuck-up business partners scrutinizing his every move. No one to chastise him when he shoved Lila off of his shoulders so hard that she almost bumped into another customer.  

“Find your own dance partner.” He hissed. 

Oh, if Lila’s expression didn’t give him the best form of twisted satisfaction. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Of course she did. Until now, they’d only interacted at formal events, where Felix was forced to resign himself to social etiquettes. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be more abrasive in a casual setting. Or, in this case, much more abrasive.

A light snort floated to his ears, and his gaze flicked to the left again. The raven-haired woman had a hand to her mouth, a slight smile peaking out as she stared at Lila. Was she laughing at them?

Lila cleared her throat, finally starting to recover. It took her long enough. He would think that she’d be used to rejection by now considering how often she must throw herself at other men.

“W-Well, I am trying to find one.” She said. “I just figured you might have more fun if you loosened up on the dance floor.”

Felix rolled his eyes. Hiding her gold-digging ways with feigned thoughtfulness. What a classic move. “You figured wrong. Go bother someone else.”

Irritation flickered across her features, but Felix hardly cared. He swiveled around in his bar stool again and ordered another Bourbon Sour, because at this point, he was going to need one. His disinterest in Lila couldn’t have been any clearer, but they both knew that she wasn’t going to let him go that easily. She proved that by sliding into the seat next to him with another plastered smile.

“I also came up to order another martini, but wow,” The brunette drawled, “you must really not like it here.”

Felix scoffed, downing the rest of his bourbon. She really couldn’t take no for an answer, could she? He couldn’t decide if that little trait derived from denial or stupidity. Did she think he was going to flip a switch and suddenly like her nasally voice or her sausage hair that she obviously spent way too much time styling? 

“You know..” A suggestive smile curled onto Lila’s lips as she began walking her fingers down the counter towards him. “If you’re not having a good time, I could call a cab. We can go somewhere a little more.. quiet.”

Felix snatched her hand before it could reach him, ignoring the pained gasp that she let out. He would rather sign his entire company over to Gabriel himself than go anywhere with this hag. 

He opened his mouth to retort- “Are you always this desperate or are you just that intoxicated already?” -when another voice interrupted them.

“Not to be rude, Lila, but I’m pretty sure going out with you would be more nauseating to him than drinking three shots in a row right after drinking two bottles of champagne.” 

The mysterious, raven-haired woman. Felix shot her a glance for the fifth time that evening, a mix of surprised and intrigued as to how she would know enough about Rossi to claim such a thing. (Such an accurate thing)  

The woman faced them with a small, amused smile, her chin resting on the back of her hand. All traces of her anxiety and nervousness were gone, replaced instead with confidence and smugness. It was an interesting change, but if it pulled Lila’s attention from him, he wouldn’t complain.

Lila’s body went rigid, her face flushing a deep scarlet from being called out, and she whirled around to face the woman, hands clenched at her sides. The woman stared back, silently daring the Italian to refute the statement that they both knew to be true. It was a bold gesture that was no doubt fueled by multiple, distasteful encounters. The two must know each other personally. (Her calling Lila by name was also a give-away to that fact) 

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Lila bit off. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

The woman merely hummed, unimpressed. “Yes, I don’t think you ask for anyone’s opinion. That’s why you almost got hit with that restraining order the last time you tried flirting with one of the other models at work.”

So they work together.. that would explain the underlying tension. Felix has had plenty of unbearable coworkers. Did that mean the woman worked for the Gabriel brand, though? Why had he never heard of her before?

Lila bristled at the remark. “I- You- Ugh! Whatever!”

Furious, the brunette stormed off into the dancing crowd once again. Felix imagined she was either going to tattle to Adrien or find some other poor soul to ‘seduce’. Even so, he couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips. Lila unraveling like that wasn’t something he got to see often. It was a nice treat considering how his evening had been progressing. 

That said..

“Thank you, but I don’t recall asking for your help.” He told the woman. If she was mingled in with Gabriel’s business, she might know who he is, and Felix didn’t want her thinking that he owed her something simply because she’d decided to meddle in someone else’s affairs. 

Her eyes turned to him for the first time that night, sparkling light blue under the neon lights.

“No,” She mused, a softer, warmer smile playing at her lips, “I know you didn’t, and I’m sure you didn’t need it. That was kind of my own little revenge. We work together, ya know? She’s always such a pain.”

Felix hummed in agreement. That girl was definitely a thorn in anyone’s side. How she still managed to act as though she were the next big hit, he’ll never know. “Do you work for the Gabriel brand, then?”

She nodded, idly reaching up to fix the white, butterfly barrette that pinned up the left side of her bangs and hair. “Yeah, but I’m just one of the fashion designers. Not a model or anything.”

Felix let out a light scoff. She said that as though the fashion designers weren’t critical workers. Anyone can wear clothes, but fashion designers are the people who use their skills and creativity to bring life to the clothes that the models are wearing. They are severely under-appreciated, in his opinion.

And speaking of bringing life to clothes.. “Are you the one who designed that dress?”

A tinge of pink rose to her cheeks, and she smoothed out the skirt of her dress to avoid looking at him as she answered, “Yes, actually. It’s from my ‘Heroes of Paris’ collection. This was one of the dresses that I hand sewed, but Lila decided it would look better with a martini stain. I just hope I can wash it out..”

Felix glared at the crowd, remembering Lila’s comment about ordering another martini. No wonder the woman was so disgruntled about the stain. Buying a dress and ruining it was one thing, but working hard to make a dress and having someone else ruin it on purpose was another thing entirely.

“You could always sue.” He suggested as he took a swig of his freshly made Bourbon Sour. “That stain would easily count as intentional property damage to the company.”

The woman snorted and waved a dismissive hand at him. “Thanks for the idea, but it’s technically a prototype, anyway. I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“It sounds like she’s the one who caused trouble.” Felix pointed out. “If you insist on letting others walk all over you, then you’re not going to go far in the fashion world.”

She pressed her lips together, seeming displeased by the statement, but tilted her head in a nod. “I suppose that’s true..”

Felix nodded as well. Of course it was true. All types of business could be brutal, but the fashion world truly was something else. Every step forward needed to be fought for viciously taken. There was no room for trivial things like mercy or kindness.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” The woman spoke again, regaining his attention, “you’re Adrien’s cousin, right? Felix Culpa?”

Felix rose a brow. Great. So she did know him. Was this where the flirting started? He should have known better than to start small talk with someone associated with Rossi. ‘Sworn Enemies’ or not.

 “That depends on which Adrien you are referring to.” He replied, subtly avoiding a straight answer.

“Adrien Agreste, of course.” She clarified. “He said he was bringing you along, but by the time I got here, I was told that you wandered off.”

Felix tisked. Of course his cousin would say that, but why would he tell her?

“Do you know him personally?”

“Well..” She twirled the tips of her hair, choosing her words carefully. “Yeah. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging or anything, but we’ve been friends since highschool. I’ve actually been working as his personal stylist for a little under a year now.”

His personal stylist? Felix remembered reading about that somewhere.. Adrien mentioned her name at one point too while blabbing about how ‘excited’ he was for Felix’s visit. What was it again? It started with an M. Madeline? No. Margaret? Certainly not.. But it definitely had an ‘r’ somewhere. Marianne- Marie- Marin- Ah! Marinette. That’s what it was. Marinette Dupain-something.

"You’re Mlle Marinette then.” He said, a satisfied smile slipping onto his lips. Although the entirety of her last name escapes him- it definitely had a Chinese origin -he was at least able to recall her first name. That would save him the awkwardness of her knowing his name but him not knowing hers. 

The woman’s eyes widened, proving that she was, in fact, Marinette. “You know me?”

Felix nodded. “Adrien wouldn’t stop pestering me about meeting you during my visit. He insisted that you were incredible, and that we would get along fetchingly.”

Another blush, this time deeply coating her cheeks and ears. “O-Oh.. I don’t know about incredible..”

He’d expected a coy smile and a swat of the hand to join the statement, giving way to the feigned modest, or at least for her to search out more praise- “Do you think I’m incredible?” -but none of that happened. Marinette simply brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced away, holding a faint, hidden smile. She was genuinely surprised by his words, and genuinely humble about them. It was.. refreshing. He didn’t socialize with people like this often.

“Does that mean you are Adrien’s cousin?” Marinette asked after a moment.

“I am,” He confirmed, seeing no reason to hide it any longer, “but I’m starting to regret it deeply. The places he’s been dragging me to have been, in a word-”

A man ran past them screaming at the top of his lungs, only to crash into something a few seconds later with a weak ‘ow’.

“-tumultuous.”

A giggle tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “I know what you mean. I’m more of a stay-at-home-and-lazily-sketch-on-the-couch kind of gal, but I couldn’t say no to Adrien. He’s been through a lot with his Father, so finally getting enough freedom to go out like this is probably a dream come true for him.”

Felix resisted the urge to scoff. Is that what Adrien’s calling this? Freedom? Because to him, it looked like his cousin was running off to places where he would not be held accountable for his actions. Granted, his misbehaviors towards anyone but his father never tended to have real consequences anyway, but there were other ways to gain freedom than choosing to associate with strangers who were steadily drinking away their inhibitions and discipline. 

“To be honest,” Marinette continued, sparing a fond glance to the crowd, “I think he gets so invested in the dancing and the hype that he sort of forgets about us. It’s like his own, unique quiet place. I’m not sure that he’d even notice if we left until he was leaving the club himself.”

Felix perked up. Oh? “Do you really think that?”

Marinette’s gaze flicked back to him, surprised and a bit embarrassed at the question. “Oh- Well -I mean, no. It was just a joke, but.. He was dancing with Kagami last time I saw him so..”

“Wonderful.” Felix breathed, getting to his feet. If Adrien wasn’t going to remember him being there, he wouldn’t remember him leaving. That meant he didn’t have to wait for Adrien to approach the bar before making his exit.

He never thought Adrien and Tsurugi would make the best match, but if them getting together is what allowed him to leave, then he would accept her into the family whole heartedly.

“Woah- wait,” Marinette stood as well, a frowned tugging at the corner of her lips. “Are you leaving?”

Felix pulled a few bills out of his pocket and placed them on the counter for payment. “I’m here as a common courtesy. If Adrien won’t be bothered to remember my presence until he can hardly walk straight, then I see no reason to stay.”

“But you can’t go!” She insisted, moving in front of him to block his path. “Adrien was so excited about you coming.”

Felix gave her a flat look. “He was excited about partying. If he actually wants to spend quality time with me, he knows my hotel residence.”

He moved to get around her, but she moved with him, this time putting a hand on his forearm to keep him still.

“You at least need to tell him you’re leaving.”

Felix stared down at her, a mix of irritated and astonished by her audacity. This woman knew he was, knew the people he was connected to, and that, should he so choose, he could probably end her career right then and there. Yet there she stood, tall and firm, ordering him to do something without so much as breaking eye contact. That’s quite the risk. 

Nevertheless, he had no intention of seeing Adrien before he left. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Felix was grasping at straws to get out of there. If he went to bid his farewells, his cousin would ask why. When Felix wouldn’t be able to come up with a valid reason other than “I hate it here”, Adrien would insist that he stay. He would probably force him to dance too, just to make sure he was ‘having a good time’. Felix, personally, didn’t want to partake in that, which left the option of fleeing without a word. It might make their upcoming photoshoot a bit difficult, but Felix was willing to push through those types of complications as opposed to these types of complications. Adrien will simply have to get over it. There was no other way out of this.

Unless..

Felix’s gaze shifted back to Marinette, a wonderfully awful idea popping into his mind.

“You said you wanted to leave here too, right?” He asked, lightly grabbing her wrist.

Marinette frowned. “What?”

Felix smirked as he spun on his heel to lead them into the crowd. “You’re going to be my ticket out of here.”

Marinette stuttered a bit while she stumbled behind him, and although he couldn’t see her face, he could hear the confusion in her voice when she asked, “Your ticket? What do you mean?”

Felix weaved through the dancing idiots and searched for golden blonde hair along with the black and red dress that Tsurugi had been wearing. If he knew his cousin- which he did -they would be somewhere near the center of the dance floor.

“You’re going to say that you're sick,” Felix explained as they walked, “and then I’ll say that I’m going to take you home. Once we’re both outside, we can part ways and actually enjoy our evening.”

“What?” Marinette blanched, tugging her wrist out of his grasp. “I’m not going to lie to Adrien!”

Felix turned around to argue when someone behind them bumped into Marinette’s back, accidentally pushing her forward. He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up to steady her. The action brought her flush against his chest, but he was too focused on persuading her to mind the closeness.

“Don’t think of it as lying,” He said, “think of it as sparing his feelings. This way I can leave with Adrien thinking we had fun together. Would you rather I tell him that I’ve hated every second of being here?”

Marinette sighed. “Well, no-”

“Then it’s settled.” Felix replied, stepping away to bring her further into the crowd.

They found Adrien a few minutes later, and as expected, he was in the middle of the dance floor. Kagami was dancing with him, doing what looked to be a butchered version of the Tango. The two were laughing and snorting together, obviously drunk but having a good time. The sight only confirmed Felix’s belief that his presence wasn’t necessary.

Marinette started twisting her wrist in his hand again, but Felix ignored it as he pressed forward to approach the love-sick couple. If she didn’t want to get wrapped up in this, she shouldn’t have opened her mouth and forced him to come talk to Adrien before leaving.

“Adrien.” Felix called over the music, coming to a stop next to them.  

The two continued dancing, blissfully unaware of their presence.

“Adrien!” Felix tried again.

Finally, Adrien paused, looking up at them from where he’d just dipped Kagami. It took a moment for the blonde to recognize them, but once he did, he flashed them both a sloppy smile and pulled Kagami back up to talk.

“Hey, Felix!” His cousin beamed. “I haven’t seen you all night! Where have you been?”

“Sitting at the bar.” Felix replied shortly. He tugged Marinette forward, who appeared rather uncomfortable at being thrown into the spotlight. “Meeting new friends.”

Adrien lit up. “Marinette! Have you been with Felix this whole time? I knew you guys would get along great!”

Marinette offered a nervous smile, but Felix spoke before she could. No sense in letting her back out by telling Adrien that she’s having a good time or something.

“Yes, she’s a wonderful conversationalist,” He said, letting go of her wrist to put a hand on her shoulder. They needed to look casual. “But I’m afraid she’s feeling a tad out of sorts at the moment. So I’m going to take her home.”

Adrien’s grin dropped immediately, fading into concern. “You’re not feeling well?”

She faltered.  “Uhm- well-”

“It’s nothing serious.” Felix interrupted. “Just a small case of nausea. I’ve already called my driver to pick her up.”

Kagami stepped forward and placed a hand on Marinette’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm.. Are you sure you want to go home with Felix?”

“I assure you she-”

“I didn’t ask you, did I?” Kagami said sharply.

Felix narrowed his eyes. He should have known that Tsurugi would be his main obstacle. She didn’t confine herself to social etiquettes like carefully choosing one’s words in order to stay in the good graces of everyone around you. She wouldn’t hesitate to stop them if she thought Marinette didn’t want to leave with Felix. Therefore, he was going to need Marinette to confirm her desire to go, which meant she had to actively participate in this scheme. 

His gaze flicked to the ravenette, only to find her staring up at him already. She was chewing on her lip and clearly deciding what to do. Felix subtly tilted his head in her direction and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t beg for things often, but he refused to come this close to victory only for it to be ripped out from under him because somebody had a heightened conscience.

Of course, he couldn’t plead with her aloud, since Tsurugi was still burning holes into his head, but the way Marinette squirmed implied that she knew exactly what he was trying to say.

Please.

She let out a small sigh, and Felix crossed his fingers.

“..Yes.” She answered, giving Felix a rush of relief. “Yes, I want him to take me home.”

Tsurugi searched Marinette’s expression for a moment, probably looking for fear or uncertainty, before turning to Felix. She gave him another glare, one that promised death. “You better treat her properly while you have her. If I hear about anything-”

Felix rolled his eyes. He wasn’t some barbarian. “She’ll be fine. We’ll see you at the next photoshoot.”

“Text me when you guys get home!” Adrien called after them. 

Felix only gave a short nod over his shoulder before he started pushing Marinette back through the crowd. He was almost there. A few steps further, and this nightmare of a night would be over.

Felix pushed open the front door of the club and eagerly stepped outside. The cool, night air washed over him, and he drew in a deep, refreshing breath. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it was sitting in that crowd. 

“This is so wrong.” Marinette mumbled behind him. “I should have just told them the truth.”

Aaaand the moment is ruined. Felix thought with a mental sigh. He looked up to the starry skies for patience, since he still needed her to go through with this until his driver arrived. Honestly, how did a young adult such as herself get so twisted up about a little, white lie? Everyone’s done it at least once in their life, even Adrien.

“The less they know, the better.” He said. “Besides, by the time they’re done drinking, they won’t even remember our little fib.”

“But-”

“Look.” Felix cut her off, saving himself from the lecture. “We can either go inside and apologize for something they truly won’t care for.. Or we can start walking before Rossi realizes we’ve left and tries to come after us.”

Marinette’s expression soured at the mention of Lila, just like he knew it would, and she glanced back at the club.

“..Let’s get going.”

Felix followed behind her with a small, triumphant smile. Finally! He escaped that wretched place, and now he got to roam the Parisian streets instead, which was infinitely better, in his opinion. Of course, anything was better than that club- except something involving Rossi -but Parisian streets always held a certain enchantment to them. The roads were never too crowded, save for the occasional groups of tourists, and the lights lining the building casted a soft, golden glow on the pavement. Even the Eiffel Tower was covered in lights. 

Most importantly, though, Paris was quiet. Sure, there were car engines and snorting laughter, but it was faint, distant. Something he could easily ignore if he wanted. 

The setting was quite contrary to the usually dark and dreary city in which he lived, but he enjoyed the change. Strolling through a place like this helped him relax and unwind, which he desperately needed to do. Those interactions with Adrien and Lila had pushed him to his limit. 

“So what brings you to Paris?” Marinette asked curiously. “I heard you don’t visit often.”

Felix stared at the scenery a bit longer, before bringing his gaze back down to her. He didn’t necessarily feel like talking, but his ride would be there soon. He could indulge her for the moment as thanks. 

“I’m here on business for my father. I have to do a photoshoot with Adrien for extra publicity and attend some parties that are being thrown by some of our business partners.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” Marinette replied thoughtfully. “I’ve never been to a formal, business party.”

Felix heaved a sigh. “Pray that you never do. They are horribly bland, and anyone there is usually stuck too far up their rear end to have a decent conversation with.”

Marinette snorted at the comment. “They’re really that bad, huh?”

“Let’s just say that I would prefer going back to that bar as an employee than go to these business parties. At least there I can tell women to leave me alone. I swear they’ll latch onto you harder than a leach simply because they know that they can.”

A frown tugged at the corner of her lips, the previous humor of the topic slipping away as quickly as it came. “And you can’t do anything about it?”

Felix shook his head. “Not without being butchered by the press.”

“I think I’d rather be butchered..” Marinette muttered. He completely agreed. Unfortunately, snapping at the esteemed guests or possible daughter of a massive source of income for his father’s company is highly frowned upon, else Felix would have done so long ago.

“Can’t you get a consort?” She inquired. “If you had a date, that should keep the girls away, right?”

Felix almost laughed. “Escorts are normally used for pitiful old men who can’t get dates by themselves. An escort for myself would simply be foolish, and it would hardly deter any of the other women.”

Marinette hummed. She was thinking really hard about this, wasn’t she?

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to pretend to be your girlfriend?” She suggested. “If they thought you were dating someone, it shouldn’t be nearly as frowned upon to reject the other women openly.”

Felix clicked his tongue. “A tempting thought, but there’s one flaw.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t have any friends.” He informed her. “None that I could ask to perform such a roll, that is.”

The only female friends he had were his mother and Allegra, and Allegra was about to be married to Claude. Any other acquaintances he had were co-workers. One can imagine how that conversation would go. 

“Excuse me, can you pretend to be my significant other because I wouldn’t actually want to date you in real life, but I need oxygen to live?” 

Not ideal. 

Aside from that, pretending to be in a relationship is something that can easily get out of hand. The position of power that his ‘girlfriend’ would be put in is not something Felix is willing to risk. She would be able to say anything about him, true or false, and the press would accept it as fact because they were ‘dating’. No thank you.

“Oh..” Marinette said softly. “I guess that does kind of ruin it, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does.” Felix agreed. “But if you get any more bright ideas, please, don’t hesitate to share. I’m all ears.” 

Marinette shot him a look, as though she might smack him for the remark, but instead she glanced back down at the sidewalk. 

Then she said something that forever changed the events of his visit.

“..What if I became your fake girlfriend?”

Felix nearly tripped over himself at the comment. He must have misheard her, right? No sane person would suggest that so casually. They were complete strangers, after all. How was he supposed to know if he could trust her? Better yet, would she be able to play the part if he did?

“I-It was just a thought!” She added hastily, noticing his baffled expression. “You don’t have to agree or anything. I just know how it is to be pushed into uncomfortable positions..”

Felix rose a brow. “While your.. generosity is appreciated, I don’t think you would be a good fit. You couldn’t even lie about being sick tonight without almost collapsing from guilt. What makes you think you can lie to an entire ballroom’s worth of people?”

Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, her anxiety easily shifting to frustration. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes into a glare as she said, “I did not almost collapse, and that was different. I was lying to a close friend for a personal, selfish reason. This time I’d be lying to help you get away from gold diggers.”

Felix hummed. Yes, that made perfect sense. Forgive him for being ignorant about the fact that lying was somehow morally correct in one situation but condemning in another.

“So what’s in it for you?”

Marinette’s brows knitted together. “Oh.. uhm.. I just thought it would help you out, but.. I guess I could show off my designs? Working with Gabriel has been a good start, but if I wear them at the parties, maybe they’ll get more popular?”

Felix tilted his head back and forth as he assessed her answer. An exchange of peace for an exchange of popularity. He could work with that. “But are you sure you can pull it off? As I said before, the women there aren’t easily swayed. You might have to pull some scandalous stunts to dissuade them.”

Marinette scoffed and crossed her arms. “Please. You think I won’t get my hands dirty if I need to?”

Felix shrugged. “Again. You were the one who couldn’t lie about being sick.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re never going to let go of that now, are you?”

“Well, it is a bit telling of your nature.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” She retorted. “Anyway, how scandalous are we talking? I assumed holding hands was a given, and most likely side hugging too. Did you expect us to do something more intimate than that?”

Felix slowed his pace to a stop and looked at her. “Of course. That’s why I asked if you were prepared.”

Wariness began creeping into her expression. “Okay.. then how intimate do you plan on getting?”

“Well,” Felix began, taking a step towards her, “we need to look deeply in love at best. There might be some extremes that I’ll need you to play along with. Say, for example, the hugging isn’t convincing them.”

Felix stepped forward again, causing Marinette to take a step back. He followed her, step after step, until her back touched the brick wall of a closed flower shop.

“Everyone’s watching,” He continued, setting his arm against the wall next to her, “waiting to see what we’ll do to prove we’re legitimate. Would you be willing to do what it takes?”

A blush bloomed across her freckled cheeks, but she shot him a skeptical look despite. “I doubt they’d be rude enough to insist we kiss in order to prove our ‘relationship’.”

Felix smirked. “No, but it would be implied and whispered of. Those are the same as speaking aloud when it comes to business parties.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“And that’s a ‘no’.” Felix replied, pushing himself back up and away from her. He hadn’t expected her to do anything, but it was a tad disappointing knowing that he couldn’t use her idea. Having the women hovering around him instead of crushing him would have been nice-

Marinette grabbed the collar of his light blue, button-up shirt, stopping Felix in his tracks. She gave him a small glare, and before he could ask what she was doing or what she wanted, the ravenette yanked him downwards, crushing their lips together. 

Felix sucked in a breath, admittedly shocked, but he certainly didn’t pull away. No, he pulled her closer, cupping her cheek and deepening the kiss that she’d started. Marinette hummed slightly at the reciprocation and tilted her head to catch his lips fully. Her arms snaked up from his collar to around his neck, her dainty fingers raking through his hair. 

Felix let out a soft moan, but just as he was about to wrap his arm around her waist, Marinette broke the kiss. She put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him away, and met his gaze with lidded eyes.

Oh, if he thought her eyes were blues before..

“I’m not sure why we’d have to ‘prove ourselves’ like this,” She muttered, “but I think I’ve proven that I’m more than capable of pulling it off if necessary.”

Felix brushed his thumb over his lips, wiping away some of the ruby red lipstick that she’d left on him. 

“Mlle Marinette,”  He said, only just managing to keep from looking at her sweet, soft lips, now swollen slightly from the kiss, “I believe we have ourselves a deal.”

This fake relationship thing might work out, after all.

[ac3id]

pairings: shigaraki tomura x female reader

warnings: nsfw, dubcon, captivity, yandere shiggs, mention of death, shiggs is a meanie, dumbification if ya squit.

a/n: im so glad someone requested this!! i will litereally never shut up about man also!! shigaraki is beefed up in this cus that man finna get permanent residency in my head

word count. 1557

Imagine: Shigaraki taking the small, cute little pathetic nurse of the hospital he hijacked as his darling. 

It takes some time for him to find you tolerable. At first, he absolutely loathes you; you’re always crying over the littlest things, always painting him to be the bad guy and you even refuse to give treatment to his men. And honestly, that pisses him off the most. You’re completely brainwashed by society. What do you mean you won’t help men like ‘him’? Are you that superior? You get to decide what’s right and what’s wrong? Are his men not humans? He hates you. If it weren’t for the situation he had faced himself in, he would have decayed you in the blink of an eye. But now after a failed mission and a lot of casualties on his side, he needed your quirk.  

When he kidnaps you, finally, it’s not because he loves you and wants to take care of you. No. It’s because he wants to torture you- literally. He’s so sick of your hot-headedness, so sick of your ideals- how you still think heroes will come to save you from those nefarious villains. Shigaraki wants to break you, show you how pathetic you really are. And so he does. 

One day he just gets so tired of your antics, you’re ignoring him- something you find yourself doing very often these days. You isolate yourself from him and everyone. You run to a storage room and hide, your knees pressed to your chest and head held down. You sniffle into your knees, you never wanted this happen. What did I do to this deserve this? When would the heroes come? You chanted to yourself. Deep down, you knew Shigaraki was right but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that the world was so hollow and even if it was, you’d choose to ignore it. You’d live your life the way you want to and believe in that devil’s words. You’d- 

The door slams open, a big angry looking Shigaraki stands in the there, his eyes fuming with murderous intent. He rushes towards and wastes no time in clasping his big, sturdy hands around your petite neck and you pulling you up. He squeezes around it and choking noises fills the room, your hands automatically wrap around his trying to push him off but it’s all in vain. He’s too strong and you’re too dumb. You let out choked pleads, begging him to let you go and that you’ll help him. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you cause he needed you, you believed that he’d-

“If you’re thinking that I won’t kill you right this instant. You are wrong. I will take away your quirk for myself and leave you here to bite the dust. Don’t test me.”

He drops you to the floor, you rub your neck and try to collect yourself. He looks down at you, the way your tremble reminds him of a puppy who’s been kicked. He smiles to himself, he crouches down and grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. “I don’t like being mean to a pretty little thing like you,” he confesses and your eyebrows knit together. Why is he talking to you like this? 

“Use your dumb little head, okay? Listen to me.” His hold from your collar disappears and he stands back to his full height hovering over, you looked like an ant under and he looked like monster. You look up at him with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes- he’s the predator and you’re the prey. There’s no denying it. You were stupid for choosing not to submit to him before but now, you know he’s not the one to show mercy. He’s going to give you one chance you better not disappoint him. 

You started to obey him after he had threatened you, knowing full well he’d take your quirk and kill you the very next second. You did not want to challenge or anger him. It’s for my own survival, you tell yourself. You help his men, you sit, biting back your urge to hit Dabi as you tend to his wounds while he throws obscene remarks of what he’d do to a girl like you or how you have to stop your self from throwing up as you listen to Toga explain in detail about what she wants to this boy she’s crushing on. It’s hard work. Spinner and Mr. Compress were a little better but considering the fact that they come back to you after murdering innocents. It surely manages to you up at night.

It doesn’t take long for Shigaraki to develop a soft spot for you, he likes this new you. You are submissive, you listen to him. He finally managed to put you in your place. 

You did not think about those heroes anymore, did you? 

Ridiculously, he finds a friend in you, both of you start talking. You talk about your day with him he tells you about his, you drink together and as much as you shouldn’t; you find yourself enjoying your time with the league. 

You come to understand them and you forget that you’re being held, hostage. Call it Stockholm syndrome but you didn’t care. The newfound joy lasts but all things must end.

The calm before the storm: Shigaraki suddenly finds himself falling for you, your shy habits- how you’d twirl your hair when you got nervous or chewed on your lip while concentrating. How your cheeks stained pink in your intoxicated state. He noticed everything, he didn’t want to believe he was falling for but the way butterflies that danced around in his stomach when your finger grazed over his, how his mood turned better when you entered the room. The signs were obvious. He was in love 

He thought he’d tell you about his feelings for you before they left the hospital, all his men had recovered wonderfully courtesy to you. You’d flee with him and the both of you would be happy together forever a perfect ending for a new beginning. He confesses his love to you two days before his departure, he tells you how he wants to spend his life with you, how he thinks you’re the one but to his dismay. You don’t feel the same.

It breaks his heart into pieces, he can’t believe what he just heard. You’re kidding, right? You love him the way he loves you. Right? 

No? No. 

He’s pissed. Needless to say, even though you rejected his proposal, he still takes you along. He locks you in one of the many rooms of the PLF mansion. The only person you can see is him, he spends hours trying to make you understand why you needed him but you don’t budge. It’s like starting all over again. He is kind at the beginning but as days go by and his frustrations increase he just ends up using you like his fuckhole, bending you over whenever he wants and fucking your brains out. Shoving his cock down your throat, leaving you a quivering mess.

If you refuse or hesitate, he’d threaten you. He’ll take away your quirk and chop your legs and arms clean and leave you to rot. He’s done it before (you recall the incident with Overhaul). It leaves you no choice but to listen to him.  He wins all the time.

“Faster,” Shigaraki grunts. He has your wrists tied behind your back, his fingers tugging on your nipples, hard grinning at how your face confronts in pain. “Come on, whore. I know you can do better than this” he says staring at how your tiny cunt takes his huge cock. He was mesmerized, the way your walls wrapped around his girth. It was obviously too much for you, you could barely keep. The way your tongue lolled out of your mouth and eyes crosses, it was given. 

Unable to form responses you only whined in protest, hoping Shigaraki would take it easy on you but he just laughed. “What are you saying, my dumb little baby?” he asked in a condescending voice. It made you feel pathetic, he treated you like a pet who couldn’t for look after herself. It drove you mad that you couldn’t do anything about it, his hand snakes around your neck holding it firmly you stop moving on his dick. Keeping it settled warmly in your hole he pulls you down, his lips level with your ear. “Do it properly, my love,” you cringe internally at the nickname- a second ago he was calling you a whore. “If you don’t, I’ll take quirk,” your face pales, you couldn’t lose your quirk. It was all you had. “Please...Don’t do that. It’s all I have.” your voice cracks and tears roll to your cheeks, “It’s okay, baby. Just do it again. Be better this time,” he coos his hand patting your back as he restrains himself from thrusting into you, he lets you go and you start rocking your hips again trying to satisfy him, he grips your waist tightly; it would leave marks later. 

Shigaraki stares at you sleeping next to him, after a tiring session you were finally getting well deserved rest. You had obeyed him beautifully today, he wondered how long would it take before you realized that; it wasn’t your quirk which was all you had left. It was him.  

feedback is greatly appreciated!! 

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[constilationn]

Ready To Run 🌬

A/N: So I got this request at the beginning of the week and I've been working on it since then. I’m really not sure about this one guys, it’s a bit of a different style and it’s 6000 words because it took on a life of its own. (Sorry not Sorry) Anway, I’d love some feedback - please - but enjoy guys!

Rating: M

Warnings: Naughty words, sensitive subject - abuisve relationship 

Summary: This was the request I had: Reader is abused by parents or boyfriend and runs straight into the arms of Poe Dameron. 

@jacquelineprins this one’s for you 💓

You’re lost as you walk, turning the corner from the hanger and starting back towards the quarters in a quiet sort of daze because your arm’s throbbing underneath your jacket and you’re sure there’s blood by now, there must be. You want to look, you do, you want to see exactly what’s he done this time, what you’ll have to cover up from everyone else but you can’t bring yourself to lift the cuff of your jacket beyond the upper part of your wrist. You don’t want to make it real again because there’s a part of you that pretends it’s a dream whenever it happens, you can deal with it that way. You’re strong, of course you are, but there’s something about this that you just can’t handle. Either way, you have to pull up your sleeve and look. You have to.

You shouldn’t be surprised when you lift your sleeve, but you blanch anyway because your arm is red and sticky and the cuts go deep, almost like lashes of a whip. Your mind turns and turns and you’re wondering how you let this happen, because you were never the type of person to let someone else walk all over you, so what went wrong?

It’s your name on his lips that pulls you back, soft as he catches up to you in the hall, and you yank the sleeve of your jacket back down over your arm because he can’t see this, not now.

Poe Dameron catches your arm, pulls you closer to him and you try not to wince, letting a hiss of pain out between your teeth disguised by a smile as he grins back at you. He doesn’t know there’s anything wrong, he won’t know. No one will. It’s one of the policies, one of the stipulations of this relationship you’ve found yourself trapped in. No one finds out, not even Poe.

“Hey.” You make the first move, have to, so you don’t seem suspiciously quiet or upset or whatever it is you’re feeling right now because as it stands, you don’t even know. But you never do when it comes to this.

“Hey sweetheart,” sweetheart, that’ll come up later, you’re sure of it. It has before and for no good reason. Poe Dameron is a flirt, it’s a universally known fact and even if he felt anything towards you, the entire base knows your taken. It’s not an option anymore either because it’s like your property now. You live with him, with Charlie, share your quarters, share missions, share lives. Although it’s not really sharing, is it? Not when he acts like he owns you, parades you around like a prize and hurts you when you misbehave. It’s like you’re a dog, that’s probably the best way to describe it, rewarded when your good and punished when your bad. It’s hysterical, in another life you’d laugh and in another life still you’d punch the living daylights out of Charlie and tell him to never treat you like that again. But it’s not an option, not this time, and you’ve been beaten down so many times that you don’t stand a chance. Not anymore.

Poe clears his throat, polite just like always as he interrupts your stream of thoughts. “Can you do me a favor?”

Anything, you want to scream, I’ll do anything for you if you can get me out of here, away from this life. But you square your shoulders instead and ignore the wildness of your thoughts, muster another smile and paint into onto your face so it stays there even when he leaves. “Sure.”

You’re expecting him to say something about engineering, about fixing his ship just like always. You’re not expecting him to ask you to accompany him on a mission and you’re definitely not expecting him to tell you that you leave tonight. You know you’re staring at him like he’s got ten heads and you know you need to stop but you can’t because he’s just offered you an escape, he’s offered you an out and maybe, just maybe, this can be your salvation. This can be how you survive.

You can’t stop the grin that breaks across you face, but then again you don’t really try to. You resist the urge to jump into his arms because this is it, he’s given you a perfect chance to escape and, god, Poe Dameron has never looked so beautiful. “Please. Yes. I’d love to.” The words tumble from your lips and your grinning like an idiot but you don’t care, not anymore. You hug him then, you can’t help it, and the warmth you feel in his arms has nothing on Charlie who only ever lays a hand on you to hurt you.

“It’s nothing exciting, sweetheart,” Poe chuckles but he looks so fucking happy that you can’t bring yourself to care about the repeat of the nickname and you don’t let go of him, you can’t, not yet. “We’ll just be doing some surveillance, maybe blowing some stuff up.”

You nod, practically vibrating on the spot with this newfound energy. Your brain is going and going and going with endless possibilities and chances and opportunities. You want to kiss him, and not for the first time, but none of that matters at the moment. Nothing matters except you and Poe. Maybe you can tell him, maybe you can make a confession and beg him for help. He’s a good guy, he’s you’re friend so what’s stopping you? What’s fucking stopping you?

“Hey,” Fuck, does that voice make you freeze. It’s not a malicious one but accusation drips from Charlie’s tone and you feel your entire body just stop. Poe bristles next to you, crossing his arms because he doesn’t like the man, no one does and a lot of them question what a nice girl like you is doing with an arse like that. You couldn’t tell them even if you wanted to. You know what the punishment is for that.

“Charlie.” Your voice is weak, a pathetic attempt to seem excited and Poe quirks an eyebrow but says nothing. “Hey.”

You swear your heart stops when he walks towards you and it’s like this long, horrible drawn out thing until he reaches your side and Poe dutifully steps a little to the left so Charlie can throw an arm around your shoulder. It’s only been a few hours since you’ve seen him, since you landed back at the hangar after he’d decided to take his anger out on your arm. It’s only been a few hours of peace, of bliss, and you thought that maybe it could be enough. You’re wrong.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” You try not to wince as Poe gave Charlie a nod and turns away. You let your eyes close as Charlie waits for Poe’s footsteps to fade completely. You know it’s coming so it shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does when Charlie rounds on you in the middle of the hall and lands a heavy slap on your cheek.

“Sweetheart?” It’s the way he says it, the way he relishes the word on his tongue and the look in his eye when you shrink away from him because he knows he’s got you and you can’t get away from him or his accusations because he was right there when Poe said it. “Sweetheart.” He pauses, considers and then nods with a definitive air, watching you with sharp eyes. You have no idea what move you’re supposed to make now, you don’t know what the right answer is.

You do know that when he takes hold of your arm, shakes it and drags you down the hallway to the quarters, you’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Charlie shoves the door open, let’s your arm go and pushes you into the room so roughly that you stumble and have to catch yourself against the metal foot of the bed. There are tears on your cheeks, falling to your lips and there’s salt and blood and you’re losing your bearings just a little. “Fuck.” It’s a weak word, falls from your lips as your arm hits the bed. Charlie smirks, like he’s pleased with his handiwork but you can’t fight him, can’t say a word. You know that. And so does he.

“Charlie.” You start but it’s not enough to get rid of that glare in his eye. Your attempt is weak anyway, it never would’ve worked but you had to try. You always have to try. Maybe that’s how you ended up here.

“Shut up.” His words are like fire, spitting all over you and you cower, you can’t help it. He looks absolutely murderousand you’ll know what’ll happen next. It’s nothing new, of course it isn’t, but the way you feel never goes away. This nervous flip of your stomach never goes away.

It wasn’t always like this. That’s what you tell yourself, that you’d made the right decision once upon a time and it’s not your fault that this is happening. Five years ago you were just a bright eyed pilot, looking to crush the First Order. Charlie was a technician, insisted he’d work on your ship and you fell for it. You fell for his good looks and his charm and the smile that you never see anymore. People had warned you, of course, but you didn’t listen to them. Hell, you didn’t listen to anyone back then. God you wished you had. Maybe none of this would’ve happened.

It’s been two years since the first time he hit you. You’d been laughing about something stupid, probably with Poe because back then you were happy. You’d felt his fingers dig into your thigh first and when you’d gotten back to your quarters, he’d hit you until your face burnt. You didn’t tell anyone, thought you could survive it because you’d never let anyone walk over you before and why should Charlie be any different? You were strong back then too, a fighter, and you were so sure you were strong enough to face it. You were so goddamn sure. But when he told you to never say a word, threatened you because it was your word against his and who would believe a stupid little girl, your world fucking crumbled. So you explained the injuries away and hid them but you didn’t say a word. Not once.  

And now you were trapped in your own personal hell.

Charlie gives you a smirk, a sick, twisted smile and stalks towards you from where you’re still learning heavily against the foot of the bed. “Let me see you arm.”

“No...no, I—“

“Let me see you arm.” His voice is deadly, words ripping through the room as he tilts his head and meets your eyes. “Sweetheart.”

It’s that word that makes your legs give out and your one the floor in a heap watching him when he crouches down but not doing a single fucking thing to stop him because what can you do? His fingers close around your wrist and you flinch, don’t try to hide it, as he pulls the jacket from your shoulder with his other hand and deposits it on the floor next to you. The cuff of your shirt reaches your wrist and Charlie’s gentle when he pulls it up, rolling it to your elbow and taking a sharp breath when he sees the mess of your arm. It’s worse than an hour ago, turned an ugly purple and red, darker blood dried across the top of the deep lashes that paint your arm. Charlie nods, eyes flicking from your eyes to your arm and all you can do is sit and watch as his fingertips run up and down your arm. “Jesus.” It’s his voice, a breath, and you snatch your arm away.

“Stop.” But he won’t, he takes your arm back with cold fingers and admires, fucking admires, the mess of your arm. You can’t remember the specific reason for this particular beating but you’re willing to bet it had something to do with Poe and the two of you on your mission. Charlie’s usually there, lurking in the back to keep an eye on you because god forbid you actually get rid of him for good. Maybe you were too comfortable with Poe, maybe you got cocky or maybe you said something stupid and Charlie didn’t like it. Whatever you’d done, he’d taken you aside on the mission and lashed your arm with his belt before giving you an affectionate little pat and telling you to run along. It was an almost comical exchange when you think about it. That doesn’t change the pain though. Nothing changes that.

“You want me to kiss it better?”

“No.” You whisper, trying to move your arm. “No.”

“Aw, c’mon.” His lips touch the deepest cut on your arm and you hiss, biting your lip so you don’t say anything, so you don’t make it worse. “Let me make you feel good.”

“No!” You shove him off, reaching for the bed to pull yourself up because your entire body is shaking and you’re not sure you can pull yourself up.

You back away from Charlie who’s sitting on the floor just staring at you and your back hits the wall as he stands up. “What the fuck,” and he’s back, stalking across the room, “was that?”

“I don’t...” your voice trembles, “I don’t want this anymore.” You can’t believe those word have just left your mouth, you can’t believe that you’re standing across from Charlie telling him that you don’t want him anymore.

When Charlie laughs, a chill runs through every single cell in your body. It’s like your blood freezes and you feel like you could just die on the spot. “What makes you think you get to make that decision.”

This, this is where you trip up because you haven’t rehearsed a speech, you’re not confident in your ability or hit him with the facts and logic. The truth is, you’re terrified, you are absolutely fucking terrified because you’re starting to realize there is no way out. It doesn’t matter how many missions you go on with Poe, how many escapes you think you’ve made. He will never let you go. You can’t believe it’s taken you this long to figure it out.

“Charlie,” he knows your about to beg, he can see it in your face. “Charlie, please. I can’t do this anymore.”

Charlie shakes his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Go on your little surveillance mission. We’ll talk about this later, sweetheart.” That’s all you need to hear. You snatch your jacket from the floor, throwing the door open and fleeing down the corridor. You hate how scared you are. You hate how you feel so small and weak and powerless every time you’re near him. Most of all, you hate him.

It’s quiet as you head back to the hangar, passing the canteen that’s bursting with people. That’s where Charlie will go, when he’s calmed down and hashed out a plan for later. He won’t let you go. He won’t take this little show of resistance at all. He’ll use it to break you, crush you even more until your nothing but a shell of what you used to be.

The hangars dark when you get there and you don’t see Poe standing there at first, too focused on the future, too focused on what Charlie will do to you. “Hey sweetheart.” Sweetheart, that name on his lips sounds so much sweeter than on Charlie’s but it makes your stomach flip. You look up to Poe, plastering a smile onto your face and Poe grins, pats the side of the ship and offers you his hand. “You ready?”

Yes! You want to scream, yes more than anything because you are ready, you’re ready to blow this place to shit and never, ever look back. But you can’t say that, you can’t say any of that so you shrug, “Sure,” and take his hand. It surprises you, how warm and soft his skin is, how light his touch is. You can’t help yourself when you compare Poe to Charlie. Even Poe’s hair, warm rich curls seem a thousand times better than Charlie’s stupid blond man-bun. But it’s the eyes, you think, that do it for you. Poe’s eyes are beautiful, so beautiful and you could get lost in them for days. You mother used to say that you can always tell a monster by his eyes and, oh, how right she’d been.

You slide into the seat next to Poe, careful, like you’re holding your breath as the dull hum of the engine starts beneath you. You feel Poe glance over, feel his eyes trace patterns across your cheek. “You can talk, you know.”

“I know.” God, how can your voice sound so small? Where have you gone; how have you lost yourself so spectacularly? You feel like a bomb, just ticking and ticking until one day it’ll all be too much and you’ll just explode and take out everything around you. Including yourself.

The ship breaks through the vines, soars up and you watch as Poe steers easily, marvel at the routine movements of his hands. It’ll just be surveillance tonight, making sure no one breaches the perimeter of the base. But you don’t mind. It gets you out, gets you away from Charlie and you have a suspicion that Poe knows that too.

“What happened to you?” You’re not expecting that. Of all the things Poe could’ve asked you, that would not have even been a guess.

“What do you mean?” He rolls his eyes, turning to face you and you raise an eyebrow, reply in a quiet voice. “Eyes on the sky, flyboy.”

He shakes his head, but there’s a smile on his lips. “You ever heard of command pilot?”

“Oh, clever.” You grin. “Dangerous though, isn’t it?”

“Stop changing the subject.”

You learn forward and quirk an eyebrow. “What subject would that be, exactly?” You want to hear him say it, you have to, because he must know what’s going on by now. He must.

“You know what I’m talking about.”  

It’s like you’re not even on the ship anymore. It’s just you and Poe and you’re starting to think that maybe you can trust him. He knows anyway, doesn’t he? Isn’t that what this has all boiled down to, the fact that he wants some sort of confession from you? There are tears in your eyes as you shift in your seat, watching the moons rise above the base. Poe doesn’t do anything, just waits. Finally you turn back to him and when you speak your voice is thick with tears. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Charlie.” And Poe’s voice is like ice. “Tell me about Charlie.”

“I...”

Poe reaches out, takes your hand and all you want to do is melt into him. “You can trust me.”

“I can’t.“

“Yes you can.” he gives your hand a squeeze, running his thumb along your skin and there are tears falling from your eyes too quickly to stop them. Poe coaxes it out of you, eventually, because it takes you a minute to trust him and realize that you’re safe with him; takes you a minute to realize you’re safe with someone.

You’re sniffing as you shrug your jacket off but Poe’s there, catching your tears on his thumb like they’re falling stars. He takes your jacket from you gently and you look up to him as he smiles, warm brown eyes locking on yours because he needs you to know that your safe. He needs you to know that he cares about you.

Your fingers shake when you touch your sleeve, you can see the material move as you drag it up over your arm and bunch it at the elbow. Poe stiffens beside you and he takes a sharp breath. Your arm looks like a slab of meat as you stare at it this time around; the skin angry. Tears fall fast and hot but Poe still doesn’t move until you try to roll your sleeve down and he catches your wrist with the lightest touch possibly because he won’t be the one to hurt you. He refuses.

He clears his throat and forces out one word. “When?”

It shouldn’t be so hard to tell him. You should be jumping at the opportunity because Poe figured it out by himself, you didn’t say a word so this isn’t your fault. You’ll doubt Charlie will see it that way but it’s too late now. He’s seen your arm, he’s seen your tears and he got the confession from you. “A few hours ago. On the mission.”

“What did he use?” Poe’s suspiciously calm but he hasn’t let go of you yet, linked your fingers together because you’re not alone in this anymore.

There’s no hesitation anymore. “His belt.”

“Sweetheart,” Poe dips his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shake your head, cracking the smallest smile. “You really think that would work out for me?”

Poe shakes his head, anger rippling across his face as his jaw flexes. “I’ll kill him.”

“No!” Your voice is shrill, bordering on hysteria as panic explodes in the pit of your stomach and Poe cocks an eyebrow in confusion. “No, you can’t. You can’t. Charlie won’t...he won’t like it.”

“I don’t give a shit what he’ll like.” Poe pulls you from your seat into his so that you’re on his lap. “We’re in this together now, me and you. You’re not gonna do this alone anymore.”

It’s then you let yourself fall into Poe, let yourself sob into the crook of his neck because this means the world to you and he must know that. Poe keeps his hand in yours, uses his free hand to run his fingers through your hair and down your spine until you’ve pulled it together enough to sit up and wipe your eyes. “Poe, I...”

He nods, you don’t have to say anything else but the smile he gives you seems to light up the entire ship.

And then he kisses you.

You kiss him back almost instantly because you haven’t felt this way in so long. You haven’t been touched like this, lovedlike this in so long and Poe is like this beautiful breath of fresh air that’s swept into your life and now you’re a seeing clearly for the first time in what seems like forever.

You pull away after a few second, tears dry on your face but that doesn’t matter because Poe’s looking at you like you created the entire galaxy. You want to take Poe’s hand and walk back into the base and never think about Charlie again but it’s not that easy. It’ll never be that easy.

“You okay?” Poe’s voice has your knees weak in the best kind of way and you give a little chuckle.

“I’m better than okay.” You can feel yourself coming back to life, can feel that fire and that light that’s been buried depo beneath the surface this entire time. You hesitate, “I need your help.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll do anything you ask me.” He smiles but his eyes are dull, don’t shine like they usually do.

“What’s wrong?”

You’ve never seen Poe hesitate like this, his mind turning like he’s fighting with himself over what to say to you. “I’ve been...” he stops, clears his throat and corrects himself. “I am in love with you.” You think the world stops, just freezes, and you give a little shake of your head in disbelief. You open your mouth to reply but Poe cuts you off. “I’ve been in love with you since that mission in Naboo when you shot that Stormtrooper in the face and then took a bullet for me. I’ve been in love with you since you started to learn how to fly and you got so excited about it that you smacked  Lana in the face by accident and gave her a black eye.” He chuckles, mostly to himself, and you grin along with him. His smile fades a little then and he continues. “I saw it happen, y’know, with Charlie. Watching that fire in your eyes go out was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I...” you keep shaking you head because that’s the only thing you can do that makes sense. It’s confusing, it’s unexpected but it’s fucking wonderful because you love Poe too. It’s taken you a while to see, blinded by Charlie and all the pain he brought you but now you know. You think you’ve known since the time in the canteen when he threw a bunch of blueberries at you for calling him flyboy. You think you’ve known for a long time.

Poe gives a nervous chuckle, “You got anything to add, sweetheart?”  

The smile breaks across your face like the fucking sun and you pull him closer, kissing him again and again and again. “I love you too.”

“Thank God, could you imagine if you’d say something else, so—“ you cut him off with a kiss, laughing against his lips as he runs a thumb over your cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs against your skin.

“You’re so cliché.” You reply but you’re laughing like you haven’t in months. “What are we gonna do?” You sigh, tugging on the ends of Poe’s curls as he swats your hand playfully. “I’ve gotta tell Charlie.”

“You don’t owe him anything.” Poe mumbles as he kisses your neck. “Fuck him.”

“Well—“

“Not literally.” Poe scoffs but his eyes are bright again, just like yours. “C’mon, we’ve gotta go.”

You haven’t even noticed that the base is coming back into view until the ship dips back below the vines and Poe lands the ship smoothly back in the hangar. You feel like your limbs are seizing up as Poe offers you his hand again and leads you from the cockpit. He’ll be waiting because you’ve been out on patrol too long and god forbid something happens to you that’s out of his control. Fear blooms through your chest and your heart hammers and you’re wondering how you got yourself here and why you couldn’t just stick it out for a little longer.

“What’s going on?” Poe murmurs as you turn the corner

“I can just tough it out.” you blurt, catching Poe’s wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I can tough it out, we both know that. There’s no reason to start anything. I don’t...I don’t need you to do this.”

“Sweetheart,” Poe sighs, “look what he’s done to you. You don’t need to stay with him, you don’t need to lie down and take this anymore.” He runs a hand through his hair as you wish for the ground to swallow you up. “But you’re not in this alone anymore. Everyone’s going to be on your side, I promise you that.”

It takes another minute of Poe convincing you for you to finally force one foot in front of the other, but when you do you feel as if nothing will stop your again. Poe’s right, he’s brainwashed you to make you think that being in this stupidly abusive relationship is okay. But he’s wrong, Charlie is so fucking wrong if he believes he can break you. You know who you are, now more than ever, you’ve ignited that fire that’s been desperate to burn for so long and your back, ripping through the restraints Charlie forced you into.

“I’m ready.” You nod, taking a breath because you’re not ready but it’s now or never. Poe nods, takes your hand and leads you down the hallway back to the quarters. As expected, Charlie stands in the hallway with his arms crossed and a bored, irritated expression that  sits easily on his face. You feel Poe’s thumb tracing small circles across your skin and notice as Charlie’s eyes lock on your hands. You learn over to Poe, a small smile lifting your lips. “Let’s not cause a scene.” You whisper.

Poe gives a mocking nod of his head. “No, let’s.” But you know he won’t. He’ll step back and he’ll let you say what you need to. He won’t take this moment away from you, not when he knows what it means.

“Back late, aren’t you?” You almost bail right there and then because Charlie’s eyes hold the murderous glare you’re so familiar with and he hasn’t stopped looking at your fingers, so delicately intertwined with Poe’s. You take a sharp breath, feel Poe’s grip tighten ever so slightly and take a step forward, eyes level with Charlie’s. He raises an eyebrow in amusement, like he can’t believe you’re going to say a word to him.

“We’re done.” It’s not exactly the way you pictured the delivery but the look of shock on Charlie’s face is as good as any and victory bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You take another step forward, breaking away from Poe’s hand and stepping up to Charlie. “This,” you motion between the two of you. “This is over.”

Charlie scoffs, “What makes you think you can do that?”

“What makes you think I can’t?” And, god, it feels so fucking god to stand up to him, to show him the warrior that you’ve been all along. “What makes you think I give a shit about you at all?” You’re words are ripping through the air now, deadly, stalking towards Charlie before they tear him to shreds. His jaw is slack, mouth open like he can’t believe what he’s hearing but you keep going. You can’t stop yourself because you deserve this and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away before you tear him apart. “You broke me.” You hiss, “you wanted me, you took me and then you fucking broke me. I haven’t been happy in two years,  do you know that? Fuck, I haven’t been myself in two years.”

You chance it, take another step forward and draw yourself up to full height so that you’re looking straight into his eyes. “W-wait.” God it feels good to hear him stammer, for him to be unsure in his own skin just like you’ve been for months and months.

“You don’t get to talk now.” Your voice cracks but it doesn’t matter, it won’t affect you. “You don’t get to say anything to me ever again. You understand that?”

“I—“

“Do you understand that?” Every single word that leaves your mouth is coated with malice.

Charlie nods once and his voice is so small. “Yes.”

“Get the fuck out of my sight.”

You watch him turn tail and hurry down the hall until he’s out of sight and you can finally breath again. Your stuck there for a little bit, just staring at the spot where Charlie had been standing and not fully believing a word that’s just come out of your mouth.

“Sweetheart,” Poe breaks you out of your daze and you stumble back into his arms, letting him whisper in your ear, and run his fingers through your hair. “You did it.” He murmurs. “Sweetheart, you fucking did it.”

And again, it’s your name on his lips that pulls you back and you lift your head from Poe’s chest, grinning when he kisses you. Because it’ll always be Poe that brings you back and reminds you who you are. It’ll always be Poe.

Every single time.

[illfoandillfie]

You Can Make It Up To Me

Ok sorry if its too late or its already been done just thought id ask anyway, for the 1000 followers celebration why not throw it back to the early days, what about a sequel to "I'll make it up to you" based on another time rog comes home after being away for a while? Maybe reader cant keep to her promise this time? 😊 have been hooked on your writing since I read that fic!! ❤

I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), dom!Rog, sub!Reader, edging and denial, chastity belt, oral sex (male receiving), facial, mentions of spanking though it doesn’t really feature, mentions of cockwarming though it doesn’t really feature either, it’s really just a fuckload of edging lmao

Words: 9,307

A/N: Listen, ya’ll should know by now I have a denial kink. You suggest a fic with edging and i fucking run with it.

This was another request from my 1000 followers celebration roughly a year ago. Apologies to the person who requested it for taking so long, I hope you’re still around and you see this! 

Taglist: @vee-ndetta​ @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​

You’d thought edging for a week was hard. Oh how wrong you’d been. A week was a piece of fucking cake compared to the two months you’d been asked to endure this time. Stupid Roger. Stupid you. You’d been a fool to agree to the edging challenge again. You let Roger sweet talk you and convince you it’d be fun and hot and maybe he was a little bit right. Maybe you were turned on just from the suggestion of being edged for an extended period of time. He knew that and he used it against you as he cooed about how much he loved seeing you desperate and how good it had been last time he’d been away and how much fun you’d had playing with it all those times since, but they’d all been so short and wouldn’t it be fun to go for longer. And that was all very true, but you’d still been an idiot to agree to it. Two months! What had you been thinking? You supposed it could be worse. They could have been doing the whole tour in one hit, leaving you with much longer to get through. But that was by the by really. You’d never have lasted longer. You hadn’t even lasted the two months you’d agreed to. Roughly half a month from Roger’s return and you’d fucked up. Gone over the edge without meaning to. And he was going to call at the previously agreed upon check in time and you’d have to tell him and then be punished when he got home. Maybe you could distract him, get him talking about the tour and stuff. Technically you were meant to save all the chatting for the end of the week when he could call earlier and spend longer on the phone but maybe he’d be so homesick he’d forget about the rules you’d agreed on. Or maybe you could just lie about it and get back into your edging routine and still be the same drippy mess he expected to find waiting for him on his return. Ten minutes until he was supposed to call. You had to make your mind up now.

 “Love?” “Hi Rog,” You were still apprehensive about the call but the weary drawl in his voice softened your worry, “you sound tired.” “Only just got back to the hotel, how’s my girl?” “Good, how are you? How’s the tour going?” “Love, you know this isn’t a social call, it’s a check in.” Damn. So much for distracting him. “Sorry, I just miss you.” “I miss you too Y/N.” “So let’s just talk for a minute.” A feeble last ditch effort really. “We can talk. About how your edging is going. Tell me what my slut’s been up to.” Double damn. “I’ve been edging Sir,” “Good. How many times today?” “Six.” “Only six?” “I, uh, I got caught up doing o-other things and, um, didn’t have as much time today,” you hoped he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating. “Is that so? This from the same slut who told me about how she’d been so desperate while driving the two minutes to the supermarket that she’d pulled over halfway to knock one out.” His weariness seemed to evaporate with every word, “What were you doing that was so distracting?” “I- um, it was, um,” He let you stutter and sweat a little before he cut you off, “I’m starting to think you weren’t too preoccupied. I’m starting to think you disobeyed me.” “It was an accident,” you sighed, “I was edging and I slipped up and came. I’m sorry.” “Oh, love, that’s okay. Mistakes happen. And I know we’ve never done it for this long before and it must be so hard to keep stopping.” “It’s so hard!” you half laughed, relieved at his reaction. “I know. You’ve done so well.” “Thank you,” “But you know I will have to punish you when I get home right,” “Sir?” “Not because you slipped over the edge, that I understand completely. But you tried to hide it from me. So you’ll have to make it up to me.” “Yes Sir. How?” “I’m not sure yet. Have you edged much since you went over?” “No, I haven’t touched myself at all. I wasn’t sure I could start again and keep up with it.” “That’s okay. You did such a good job getting this far so we’re not going to worry about edging any more for these last…how many? I think ten days of the tour, whatever. You can have as many orgasms as you want. But I want you to keep count for me okay?” “Okay, yeah, I can do that.” “Yeah? That’s my girl. Why don’t you run grab your vibrator and let me hear you have one now,” “Now?” “I need something to wank to if I’m going to get to sleep any time soon.” “Right, give me two minutes to grab it.” “Take your time, love.”

 You hurried to the bedroom to pull open the draw where you kept your toys, not wanting to keep Roger waiting longer than you had to. Your fingers slipped a little as you quickly plugged it into the wall and positioned yourself, picking the phone up and pressing it back to your ear. “Okay, I got it,” “Let me hear it,” You turned it on for a couple of seconds. “Good girl. Now, what are you wearing?” Despite how worn out he must have felt Roger took his time. He made you describe the underwear you wore and told you how he wanted you to touch yourself over your knickers, made you tease yourself while he listened. He told you where to put the vibrator and on which setting and for how long. And you followed every instruction as best you could. You could feel the weeks of edging like every unachieved orgasm was gathered in the pit of your stomach. They made you ache for release. You told Roger as much, less eloquently, begging and whining rather than full sentences. There was a fear he’d lied about letting you cum or that at the very least he was going to make you wait for it. But he didn’t. All you had to say was please Sir and he told you to let go. He didn��t need to tell you twice. Relief washed through every inch of you as your pleasure cracked moans subsided. But he wasn’t finished, and he wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He gave you half a minute to catch your breath and thank him and then he told you to put the vibrator back against your clit. When you whined about being sensitive, he mocked you. His poor pathetic slut who was so worked up she just had to have an orgasm. “But I haven’t had mine and I told you I wanted to listen to you while I got off.” You came again as his grunts of release echoed down the phone line and he let you stop. But he was gentle as you caught your breath, soft words of praise making you feel warm and treasured. He made sure you were okay, reminding you to drink some water and get some rest, before he wished you goodnight, the tiredness returned to his voice, stronger than ever. But his parting reminder to keep count and expect his call the next night sent a shiver down your spine.

 Over the six and a half weeks since Roger had left you’d grown accustomed to X-rated dreams. Most nights ended with an edge or two and most mornings began the same way so it was no wonder your dreams quickly picked up the theme and ran with it. In them Roger returned early to surprise you and fuck your brains out. Or else he took you on tour and dressed you in skanky clothes that left nothing to the imagination so he could use you whenever he needed. Sometimes he’d share you with rooms full of men you didn’t recognise but understood worked with the band. Once or twice you’d woken up on the verge of release and cursed dream Roger for being so arousingly evil. You hadn’t expected to have one of those dreams after Roger overstimulated you on the phone but you woke the next morning grinding against the bunched up sheets, with a vague memory of Roger plowing you over his drumkit while a crowd of fans cheered him on. It wasn’t until you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes that you realised it couldn’t have been real. And it was followed by a moment of panic that you’d gone over the edge in your sleep before you remembered everything. The recollection brought a smile to your face as your fingers slipped between your legs. Still a little sore but you could avoid your clit, focus on trying to imitate the way Roger could finger fuck you to orgasm. You were laughing as you came, blissed out on just the notion of being allowed an orgasm. And not just one, as many as you wanted. It was tempting to take another just because you could but instead you forced yourself to get out of bed and start your morning routine. Of course you had to make some adjustments. You’d taken to edging in the shower each evening but instead you allowed yourself the luxury of a bath, coming with the tap gushing directly into your clit. And instead of mindlessly edging while you spread out on the couch and read, you let yourself get off to the erotic novel you were halfway through. It was incredible, even without Roger there to help. The tingle you’d get right before it hit, the one that used to make you pull your hand away. And then the rush of the actual release that made your whole body tense up before relaxing completely. You’d grown so accustomed to edging, gotten so used to the constantly building high that never ended. Actually being able to finish was like a drug and you kept going back for another hit. It was five times when Roger called though he made you do a sixth, once again explaining what he wanted, asking you how it felt. You didn’t complain, didn’t even consider it.

 It was the same most days though the number of orgasms you got out declined as Roger got closer to coming home. You were guaranteed one with every call he made to check in on how you were going, but more often than not it ended up being two or three. And he’d always ask for how many you’d had that day and then your total number of orgasms. Whenever you gave him the new numbers you could hear the scratch of a pen as he wrote it down. The night before he returned you reached thirty-nine. “Thirty-nine?” Roger let out a whistle that made you chuckle. “You wanna hear one more? Make it an even forty?” “No,” “Oh, really?” “It’s hilarious how disappointed you sound. But I think I’d like to give you number forty myself, in person.” “I suppose I can wait for that,” “Not long to go,” “You gonna miss touring?” “Yeah, a bit. But I’m gonna be even happier being back home with you.” “Getting to use your slut more like,” He let out a soft, breathy laugh, “There’s that, but also just getting to sleep in the same bed as you sounds so good right now. And your tea. I haven’t had a decent cup since I left.”

 You held off on the last orgasm, looking forward to one at Roger’s hands and not just his voice. A little hint of denial to round out the separation. A nice way to bookend the experience, even if you hadn’t managed to last the whole time. But your days of free flowing orgasms meant that his return wasn’t like last time, when you’d be so desperate for release you’d tried to jump him on the front steps. You could wait, let him get settled first. He’d probably want to shower, maybe eat something better than the plane food, maybe sleep off some of the travel, before sex even crossed his mind. Or rather, because it was Roger you were talking about, he was probably thinking about sex already but he’d want to make sure it was good for both of you even if that meant waiting a day or two. So you did what you could to make his return more comfortable, making sure the kettle was on when he arrived, calling out from the kitchen when you heard the door open. He greeted you with a tight hug and a soft kiss and followed it with a contented sigh as you handed him his favourite tea cup and led him out to the couch. He pulled you in close, entwined your fingers again as you chatted and relaxed. You figured that’s how the rest of the afternoon and evening would be, that you’d order take out and stay on the couch until you were ready to shuffle off to bed. So, when Roger’s hand, palm still warm where he’d been holding the teacup, landed on your thigh and began to creep higher, you were a little surprised. “Remind me what your total number of orgasms was again,” “Uh, thirty-nine Sir. But we don’-” “So you didn’t sneak in one more after I hung up?” “No, I wanted to wait for you.” “I’m here now,” “You sure you don’t want to rest? I can wait a bit longer,” “Love, I’ve spent the last however long sitting on a plane, think I’d like to do something a little more…physical.” You couldn’t stop from giggling, couldn’t deny your excitement at the turn the afternoon was taking. “Is that a yes?” “Yes, definitely.” “Then why don’t you go to the bedroom and strip. I’ll finish this perfect cuppa and meet you there. We could do your punishment too, if you’re up for it.” “What’s the punishment going to be, spanking or something?” “Or something,” he said with a laugh. “Okay, yeah, let’s get it over with then,” Roger just laughed again as he leaned forward to kiss you and then sent you on your way.

 “Good girl,” he cooed as he entered the room and saw you kneeling on the bed, your clothes scattered around the room, “You wanna know what your punishment is?” “Please,” “Well, because you tried to get away with cumming without permission, I’m going to edge you again. I think one for every orgasm you had sounds fair, don’t you?” “What? But…” “But what, love? You didn’t think I was going to give you a little spank and then forget about it, did you? I can’t have my slut thinking it’s okay to lie to me.” “But you said I could have those orgasms,” “I know. They were a reward for trying so hard to hold off for me. I’m not punishing you for accidentally going over the edge,” he stepped towards you as he spoke, reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your skin softly, “Sorry, I should have been clearer when I left that I wasn’t going to be upset if you didn’t last. Two months is a very long time and it’s hard to keep edging when you’re on your own, especially if you’ve never gone that long before. All I wanted was for you to try and you tried so hard and did so well. I couldn’t be prouder. But then when you did go over, you tried to keep it from me and that’s not on. I expect you to tell me when something like that happens. Otherwise what’s the point in agreeing to all this submissive stuff?” “Sorry, Sir, I know I should have told you,” “Thank you but you’re not getting out of it so easily. Lie back for me,” With a deep breath you did as he asked, shifting against the mattress to get comfortable. “Remind me what your safe word is,” “Red, Sir,” “Good, don’t be afraid to use it if you need to.” You nodded as you watched him walk to the cupboard, your hands already rising over your head in anticipation. He chuckled when he saw you waiting, “so you agree then, I need to tie you down.” “Thirty-nine’s a lot, I won’t be able to stay still,” “Of course you won’t, you’re a needy whore who likes to cum more than’s good for you. Spread your legs for me too, I’m going to tie your ankles.” You did as you were told, earning another chuckle from Roger as he took one wrist and tied it to the corner of the bed frame.

 He made you wait there, on display and unable to move, spread eagle on the bed, as he stripped down to his briefs and then stood over you, looking you up and down as if deciding how best to torture you. “Already a little wet,” he said softly, fingers brushing over your pussy. You stayed quiet, worrying at your lip. “I said,” he slapped your thigh and made you jolt, “Already. A little. Wet.” “I’ve been thinking about this since your last call, Sir.” Another slap, this one directly on your pussy, “Hmmm, thirty-nine orgasms in ten days and you’re already asking for more? Such a good slut for me. I’d have loved to see what kind of a mess you were by the time you accidentally came.” You whined as his fingers teased your entrance but he ignored you and kept talking. “I’ll do my best to get you dripping again now but I think I might need to give you a hand getting started, huh,” his fingers left you as he moved to the draws and pulled out a small tube of lubricant. He spread a dollop over two digits before slipping them inside you easily. Instinctively your hips rose to meet him, encouraging his fingers to sink deeper into you. “Maybe I’ll give you a few weeks break and then we might try again, see if you can’t go the whole two months while I’m here. I’ll help you be a good girl, keep you from going over. And then we can see just how drippy you get. I imagine you won’t be able to wear knickers for more than an hour before they’re soaked through. But it’ll make you easy to use. A self-lubricating little toy for me to play with. So desperate and needy.” He grinned as he stretched you out, using his other thumb to collect some of your rapidly pooling arousal and spreading it over your clit, paying close attention to how you jerked in your restraints, watching for any sign of the release you weren’t allowed, “You like the sound of that?” “Y-yes, Sir,” “Thought you would. I definitely do.” He shifted the position of his fingers seamlessly, almost second nature. “Fuck, close, ‘m close,” He pulled both hands away from you, smoothing them over your thighs, “Thank you for telling me.” The familiar disappointment of a subsiding orgasm made you sigh but otherwise you kept quiet, not wanting Roger to hear you complain after just one edge. The first of many. Roger waited thirty seconds before he started in on you again, enough time for the orgasm to completely disappear so he could slowly rebuild the pleasure to the same point before he pulled his hands away again. There was another half minute pause before he repositioned his fingers where you so badly wanted them to be and began building you up once more. “What a pitiful little whine that was. And we’re only just getting started, love.” Roger stilled his fingers as he laughed again. “Fuck,” “Maybe. If you’re lucky. But for now,” he curled his fingers inside you, watching every reaction closely as he pumped them into you, stilling as you neared the edge again. He didn’t remove them though, just held them in you as you calmed so he could begin again as soon as you’d settled. “That’s three done, thirty-six to go,” You groaned but nodded your acceptance.  Roger played you as well as he would any of his instruments, keeping you right at the edge as you jerked and jolted in your restraints, desperately trying to get just a little more, one more thrust, one more stroke, anything to finally feed the craving. It was blissful torture. But it was so much better with him physically there. Edging for him on your own was fine but nothing beat the way it felt to have him do it for you. The pure submission, the total lack of control. He owned your orgasms. You willingly gave them to him and now he owned them, controlled them.

 Roger enjoyed it as much as you did, the evidence becoming clearer with every pleading whine you gave him, though you were too distracted to notice. It only became obvious to you how turned on he was when he got up to take his underwear off and your eyes fell to his erect cock. He settled himself back between your legs and tapped the head of his dick against your sensitive clit. “What d’you think, slut? Should I fuck you now?” “Please,” “Awww you really want it don’t you?” “Yes, yes Sir, I really want it,” “My good little whore likes Sir’s cock, doesn’t she?” “Yeah,” “Especially in her cunt,” “Yeah,” “Yeah. But we have a problem.” Roger shuffled over you, straddling your hips, “See, it’s been a while.” “Months, Sir,” Roger chuckled, “Exactly, months. And I just worry that I’m going to enjoy being in your cunt again so much that I forget to edge you. And I don’t want that. Not after you’ve been so good for me.” “It’s okay Sir, you can fuck me. I promise I’ll be good,” “I know you would try to be good, but accidents could happen and I’m not ready to let you cum yet, even accidentally. What kind of a punishment would that be? So, instead, I’m going to use another hole I’ve missed, okay?” You agreed, though really it didn’t feel like you had many other options besides taking it or safe-wording and you definitely weren’t ready for things to end. “Good girl,” Roger cooed, leaning forward to kiss you softly before he repositioned himself. You giggled as he somewhat clumsily turned around, but the laughter died as he moved to kneel over your face instead. “Sir?” Roger wrapped his hand around his cock, “Yes, slut?” “Can I have my hands please?” “I think you can manage without them,” Roger said, “But how about this?” He leaned forward to release the ties around your ankles before settling back, his bollocks resting against your lips. He seemed to be waiting so you opened your mouth, laving your saliva over them with your tongue. “Good girl,” Roger hummed as you sucked one testicle into your mouth, a small part of you hoping that if you did enough, he’d be lenient and reduce your punishment. “If it get’s too much, stamp your foot okay?” You raised your legs so your feet were flat on the bed and stamped one to show you understood. “Good girl,” Roger said, pressing a kiss to your knee before he readjusted his position, letting his cock find your mouth.

 At first Roger contented himself with rocking slowly, letting you grow comfortable with the position. You had no control over how deep he pressed into you or how often but he kept his movement measured and careful, making sure he wasn’t overwhelming you, and you kept up as best you could, running your tongue along his length and sucking on his head. It got harder when he leaned forward and attached his lips to your cunt. The distraction of being edged with his tongue made you lose focus as you bucked your hips in a weak attempt to get more pleasure. Which meant you were taken by surprise when he suddenly thrust into your mouth, pushing himself into your throat. You wished you had your hands so you could grab his arse or jerk him off, but you made do as best you could, eyes watering as you moaned and he gave another sharp thrust. As he got closer to release he slid deeper into your throat, unable to control himself as easily while he was concentrating on edging you again and again. Each time he’d tell you how many edges he’d given you but you stopped listening. Between the jolts of pleasure from his tongue licking along your slit and the weight of his body on yours and the strain on your jaw as you kept your mouth open for him and the dizzying gasps of air you sucked in as he remembered himself and pulled out of you before sinking back in just as deep, everything else seemed fuzzy and distant. Your hands grasped at thin air in an attempt to break loose and touch him and your hips rose to meet him until he held them down. You moaned around his cock and whined with each new edge which only seemed to spur him on. At some point, after you weren’t sure how many, Roger decided he’d had enough of edging you like that and sat up a bit higher on his knees. He gave you a brief warning and let you take a few extra breaths before he fucked your mouth for real, unrelentingly using you for his own pleasure. You knew he was getting closer by the way he was grunting and the small twitches in his cock and you tried to prepare yourself for a mouthful of spunk, tried to ready yourself for how it would feel when he came on your tongue. But then he stopped and pulled out of you entirely. You were surprised by his sudden disappearance as he swung his leg back over you and got off the bed. Surely he wasn’t going to edge himself along with you? Surely he was going to use his release as another way to torment you, telling you how good it felt and mocking you for wanting the same. It was hard not to feel a little disappointed too. Especially when you could see how hard he was, his flushed tip proof of how close he’d been. “Sir?” you croaked out, voice scratchy and throat sore. Roger ignored you, as he walked back to the end of the bed, wiping his mouth and chin. “Sir, didn’t you want to finish?” “Awww, did the whore want my cum that bad? Don’t worry slut, you’ll get it, just not to taste. I’m going to put this load where it belongs. In my cunt.” You gasped as Roger pressed the tip of his cock into your heat, bracing yourself for the rough fuck he was sure to give you. But there was no thrusting, no pushing deeper. He held his tip inside you as his hand slid up and down his shaft, pulling himself over the edge with a grunt.

 You were left squirming and aching to be filled, to feel him inside you properly, as he left the bed again and moved towards the cupboard. A combination of your juices and his dripping onto the sheets. You knew what was coming but that made it all the worse. “Do you remember how many I said you had left?” he asked as he plugged the wand vibrator in and gave it a test pulse. “No Sir,” “No? You really should, I said it only a few minutes ago,” “I don’t know Sir,” “Well it’s a good thing I know then. Otherwise we might have had to start all over again and kept better count.” You trembled at the idea, part terrified of it happening, part wanting it to. “You only have to last 5 more. Not very many, is it?” “No Sir. I can do five,” “I know you can. Because you’re such a good girl for me. My good girl. You ready?” “Yes,” you swallowed thickly and took a steadying breath waiting for the buzz of the vibrator to start again. Roger made you wait a little, building the anticipation and the tension as he refrained from doing what you expected. He let the soft head of the toy rest against your clit, laughing when you jolted at the contact. And only once you’d stilled did he turn it on, leaving it on the lowest setting. Instinctively you tried to move your still unbound legs, but Roger gave you a slap to your thigh and warned you to behave or else he’d tie you down again and give you extra edges. You whimpered a small, “Yes Sir,” as you did your best to keep still though it got harder with each edge. Roger was careful to pull the machine away as soon as he saw signs of your impending orgasm, never letting you get too close lest his reflexes be too slow. He didn’t want any accidents to happen now, not after he’d been edging you for so long. He counted down each one, giving you ample breaks between to calm yourself again. When you finally heard him turn off the vibrator and say you were done you cried grateful tears. He untied your wrists and pulled you into his arms, soothing you with soft words of praise and gentle touches.

 “How do you feel?” He asked softly once you’d sufficiently calmed, leaning back and placing his hand on your cheek as he studied your face. “Bit sore. Really want to cum. But good.” “Yeah? You’re okay?” “Yeah I’m okay. Might need a few minutes before I can do more though. The fortieth orgasm I mean.” “That’s alright. In fact, it’s perfect because I’ve got a surprise for you.” “A surprise?” “Wait here, I’ll grab it from my suitcase,” You nodded, intrigued, and leaned against the bedhead to wait, letting your eyes close for a moment as he left the room. Roger returned and handed you a glass of water and box tied off with ribbon. You were definitely curious now, the box larger than you’d been expecting. You pulled at the bow with one hand as you drank with the other, letting Roger lift the lid from the box. You didn’t understand what you were seeing until Roger explained. “It’s a chastity belt,” You almost did a spit take. “I saw it while we were exploring the shops of one of the towns we were in and I thought it might be fun to try it out, if you’re interested.” You placed the cup down and reached into the box to pick up the metal device, “Looks a bit medieval, doesn’t it,” Roger chuckled and agreed, “We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But while I was edging you I thought maybe it would be fun to make you wait a few extra days,” “You want me to wear it now?” “Only if you want to. If I’m being honest, I hadn’t planned to show you today. I was going to save it for after the rest of the tour, but you know how impatient I can be,” he laughed, his hand falling to your rub softly over your knee, “If you’d prefer to cum now I will very happily make that happen. More than once. But if you did want to test it out I’d also be into that.” “How would it work?” “Well, um, you’d wear it all day, when you’re at home and when you go out. The guy who sold it said it’s very discreet and will go under most clothes without showing. You have to take it off once a day to clean it so I was thinking that you could wear it all day and take it off at night when you have your shower. That way it can be cleaned and dry out over night and you wouldn’t have to worry about it not being comfortable to sleep in.” “And um, how would, uhhhh, bathroom stuff work with it?” “Well, there’s a slit at the front that can be opened so you can pee but isn’t it kind of hot if you have to ask me to unlock it every time you have to go to the bathroom?” “I hate to admit it but yeah it is,” you laughed. “I could also unlock it for other reasons. Maybe if I really really wanted to fuck you.” You shifted excitedly. It had been too long since you’d had Roger properly, and especially after his little teasing stunt just before, but you tried to sound more casual as you said, “That’d be fun,” “Think I’m probably more likely to use your mouth though. So much less hassle.” “It’s kinda unfair that you promised me number forty and now you’re not going to pay up,” “I’ll give you forty and forty-one and forty-two and as many more as you can handle. Right now if you want. Or after a few days of having your cunt locked away.” You stomach clenched at the thought, “How long were you thinking?” “I don’t know. The part of me that likes symmetry says ten days since that’s how many days of tour were left when you stopped edging. But really anything you want is okay with me. If you tried it for a day and decided it wasn’t for you that would be completely fine. And, like I said, if you don’t want to do it right away we don’t have to.” “I think I want to. Maybe just a day to start, see how it goes. If I want another day I’ll let you know.” “Really?” You laughed at how excited Roger seemed, “Yes, really.” “I fucking love you,” “I am very loveable,” Roger laughed and pulled you into a kiss.

 He joined you in the shower, helping you wash off the sweat and other fluids left from the torture you’d just been through. You took turns washing each other’s hair as you relaxed together, letting the hot water sooth any aches you felt. But there was a layer of excitement too and a few nerves at the prospect of wearing the chastity belt. Once you were thoroughly cleaned and dried, Roger helped lock the belt into place before you both got dressed. It was an odd sensation but thrilling too. It made you hyper aware of your own desperation. Every time you moved, sat down, you were reminded of how impossible it would be to touch yourself or get any sort of release. You only wore it for a few hours that first day, asking Roger to unlock it when you got up to change into your pyjamas. Together you worked out how best to clean it and hung it up ready for the next day. Roger kissed you good morning when you woke and asked if you wanted to try a full day of it. You agreed and, after visiting the bathroom, let him once again fasten the belt into place. It was even more thrilling the second time. In part because you had a better idea of how it operated, how it felt to wear it, but also largely due to wearing it out of the house. Roger decided to take you out for an early lunch, grinning cheekily as he made the suggestion. He knew full well you’d spend every minute of the excursion with your mind on the belt, wondering if anyone could tell you were wearing it. He was right. But it only made you wetter. Once you were home Roger checked in with you, asking how it was going and if you were still interested in wearing it. “It’s good. Still feels a bit weird but not what I'd call uncomfortable. It’s just very obvious to me that it’s there. But fuck I’m horny,” Roger laughed, “that makes two of us. I swear I’ve been half hard since I put it on you. Was even worse when you asked me to unlock it so you could pee.” “Jeeze Rog. I’ve been edged and denied, what’s your excuse?” “Shut up, there’s just something super hot about me holding the key to your cunt,” You chuckled, leaned towards him and gave him the most sultry look you could muster, “You know you could use that key whenever you want.” “Maybe later, love. Right now I really should unpack my bags, do some laundry.” “But that can be done any time,” “So can you,” Roger laughed, leaving you with a kiss to the temple. That night, after you’d taken the belt off and cleaned it, Roger edged you again, kissing you as his fingers explored your slit and your hand pumped over his cock.

 On the third day Roger disappeared into the back yard with a guitar. A question about the grocery shopping list sent you seeking him, and you found him sitting on a chair under the shade of a large tree, plucking at the strings. It was almost a shame to interrupt what seemed like such a serene moment. He spotted you though and waved you over, pulling you onto his lap. His fingers moved to the front of you shorts, seemingly automatically, but he stopped and chuckled when he met the firm resistance of the belt. “Oops,” “Forgot did you? Lucky,” “You're not enjoying it anymore?” “No, no, I am, but I’m also getting really frustrated,” “Yeah?” “There is literally no way to relieve any pressure when I’m wearing it and you keep edging me before bed and honestly I want you to fuck me so bad like I just feel kind of empty all the time cause it’s been so fucking long since I had more than your fingers in there and I'm used to just being able to pull out a toy and make myself feel better even if I’m edging. It’s fucking torture not being able to touch anything and not being even a little bit in control of my own pleasure.” “Do you want to stop?” “Hell no. I just want you to fuck me,” “Oh really?” he chuckled, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised my slut likes being completely denied,” You recognised his tone, the one that meant he was pent up and wanted to take it out on you. Hope that he’d do it, that he’d unlock you and give you a good hard pounding, made you sit up a little straighter. Your head was buzzing with ideas of Roger filling you with cum and locking you away again, but they were interrupted rather rudely by Roger growling at you to kneel. You nodded, a little disappointed but more just happy to get some sort of attention, and settled on your knees, intently watching as he stood and unbuckled his belt, the jangling noise of the metal sending another wave of desire through you. He’d barely managed to push his pants down just low enough to get his cock out when you reached out to stroke him, mind so thoroughly focused on him that you barely noticed the itchy tickle of the grass under you. But before you could he slapped your hand away. “You’re here to watch. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out. C’mon needy whore, I don’t have all day.” You nodded as you did what he said. Roger waited, watching you for any signs of impatience but soon rewarded you with his fingers, two of them sliding towards the back of your throat until you gagged. He pulled back and then did the same thing again, slowly beginning to fuck your mouth with just his digits. You could feel saliva pooling on your tongue, his fingers gliding through it until they were slick and shiny. That’s when he moved his hand to his dick, slowly spreading your drool over his shaft. You whimpered as he brushed his thumb over his tip, letting out a small hiss at the contact. You leaned forward slightly, intending to lick his length and replace his hand but he stopped you, his free hand holding you in place, and you realised what was happening. He knew you wanted to be fucked and he was going to deny you that as well as your orgasms. He wasn’t even going to fuck your mouth. All you could do was sit there, whining and watching as he jerked himself off. Every so often he dipped his fingers back into your mouth, either to gather more of your spit or just to hear you gag, you weren’t sure which. A small part of you hoped he’d just push you down onto his cock but as his hand sped up, expertly pleasuring himself, that hope withered away. He was close. You could see it in the way his smooth strokes stuttered, hear it in his groans. If you’d looked up you probably would have found flushed cheeks, and lust blown eyes, but you couldn’t drag your eyes from his cock, right in front of you, pulsing as he neared his release. And then he came with a guttural moan. You jolted as the first drops hit your cheek, but he was already holding you in place, making sure you stayed still until he was done.

 Roger looked down at you, the fist still milking his cock slowing down once more, though he didn’t release himself. You swallowed thickly, shifting on your knees as the temptation to wipe your face and get up rose. “Stay there, slut,” Roger said softly, reading your mind, “you look so good on your knees. Just a toy I use to masturbate with.” You nodded, agreeing, your eyes already drifting back down to his dick. “You want it don’t you? Wish I’d just use you properly,” You nodded again. “If you’re very good I might...” he lay his cock on your tongue, “let you have it,” It took all your strength not to close your lips around his girth as he rubbed his dick over your protruding tongue but your resilience seemed to impress him. Slowly he pushed himself deeper, allowed you to suck on his head for a moment. “Maybe I should use this time you’re all locked up to train you. Teach you to be a filthy oral whore.” The suggestion made your cunt throb but there was nothing you could do to alleviate the desperate desire to be touched. Not even squeezing your thighs together helped. “I’ll teach you to be so desperate to suck cock that you won’t ever want to take the belt off. And when I decide to use your cunt you’ll wish it was your throat,” Roger pulled himself from your lips and you were once again forced to watch as he wanked in front of you. Right up until he stopped and walked behind you. “Sir?” His presence came close again, right up behind you, “Shhhh, slut, I’m still here,” Roger gripped your chin from above and tilted your head back slightly.   “Fuck you look so hot like this, drives me fucking wild to see my little toy all soaked in cum. Close your eyes,” You did, heart racing with the uncertainty of what he might be planning. There was a tap on your forehead as the tip of Roger’s dick landed there. “I’ll reward you with some more edges tonight. Maybe I’ll even give you a ruin, if you’re very lucky. I want you so desperate that all you think about is my cock. Twenty-four seven. So desperate you’ll beg just to be allowed to suck me off.” You couldn’t see what Roger was doing but you felt it when he came again, jizz running from your forehead down the side of your nose, onto your cheek and over your top lip, dripping onto your waiting tongue. Roger stepped back and you heard the zzzziiippp of his fly being pulled up followed by the jangle of his belt, but you didn’t move. He stroked his fingers down the side of your neck, offing you a soft, “good girl,” as he moved back round to take in your appearance. “Jesus this is….you look so fucking hot,” you could feel the breath of his laugh as he leaned forward, his thumbs brushing over your closed eyes, making sure they hadn’t been caught in his crossfire, “alright, you can open your eyes now, and close your mouth if you want,” You carefully opened on eye and then the other, able to taste Roger as you swallowed what you’d caught on your tongue. “Did that make you feel any better?” “I don’t know if I’d say better. Wetter? Definitely.” “You’re a bloody poet, love,” “I try. You wanna help me up or did you have more in you?” Roger held out his hand with a chuckle, pulling you to your feet. When you were closer to eye level he paused, eyes roaming over your face, and then leaned in to peck you on the lips. It was unexpected but appreciated, though not quite as much as the damp face cloth he used to clean you.

 The next morning Roger asked if you’d like to put the belt back on and you said yes. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day. Each time he reminded you that you were allowed to say no and then, when you assured him you knew that, helped lock it into place. At some point (and sometimes at multiple points) during the day he’d use your mouth, only needing to click his fingers for you to drop to your knees for him. He made sure to compare you to vacuum cleaners and other objects. Metaphors that would normally have made you roll your eyes or tell him he was disgusting, but which now turned you into a whiney wet mess. Admittedly they weren’t all good. The time he said you had a mouth like a black hole you’d nearly choked as you started laughing with your lips already stretched around him. He’d apologised and said he’d cut back on the sci-fi comparisons so you could finish the job properly. At night you’d have a shower and change into pyjamas, often forgoing PJ pants since Roger liked to edge you while you weren’t wearing the belt. He’d slip his fingers into your panties while you watched TV or as you were settling down to sleep. But not once did he try to actually fuck you. It was infuriating and frustrating and such a turn on. Until it stopped being hot.

 You’d woken up that morning as excited and enthusiastic about the belt as you had been the previous few mornings but by the afternoon it had started feeling uncomfortable and oppressive. You came to the conclusion that denial and edging was fun but you needed a more definite time period to work within. When Roger had left and said you’d be able to orgasm again when he came back in two months’ time, that had been exciting and hot because there was a time limit. A light at the end of the tunnel that you could see and count down to. Something to aim for. Denial wasn’t just about not cumming, it was about challenging your own expectations of yourself and maybe trying to beat your previous record. What you were doing now didn’t have that specificity, that goal to work towards, and it was beginning to feel like you were being punished for nothing. The constant empty ache you felt didn’t help. Of course denial usually came with aches and desperate needy feelings but something about this time was different. Usually Roger would relish fucking you as much as possible, all the time telling you not to cum or else he’d have to spank you. It was always hard holding back as he took his pleasure but it was rewarding too and it helped relieve the tension that constant edging could cause, even without finishing. Sometimes, if you’d been good and he wanted to be nice, he’d give you a ruin as well. And even if he ended up being mean and leaving your arse pink and smarting from his blows, you got a certain kind of enjoyment from it. But with the chastity belt and the refusal to fuck you, you weren’t getting any relief at all. After thinking through it all, you decided you needed a break from the belt. It would be fun to try again another day but maybe with more discussion and certainties. You looked over to the other couch where Roger was stretched out. “Hey, Rog?” “Yes, love?” “I think I want to stop.” Roger looked away from the TV, his attention shifting to you, “You mean with the belt?” “Yeah. I think I’m close to using my safeword. It’s just feeling kind of not good at the moment. Can you please unlock me?” “Okay. Of course we can stop. C’mon, I left the key in our room,” Roger held out his hand for yours, brushing his lips over your knuckles as he pulled you up.

 You sighed with relief as you stepped out of the belt, already feeling better, if not a little embarrassed by just how obviously wet you were. Roger stood, about to say something, but you pulled him into a kiss instead, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Well,” he said with a laugh, “I was going to ask what else I could do to make you feel better but I think you’ve made it quite obvious,” “Need you Rog. Literally need. I’ve never meant it as much as I do now,” “Jesus, okay,” he was already fumbling with his fly one handed, “We really did a number on you, huh,” You nodded, dropping your hands to help him get his pants off. As soon as the zip was down he kissed you again, leading you towards the bed. “How do you want me?” “Don’t care, just fuck me,” “For as long as you want,” Roger pushed on your shoulder and you fell back onto the bed, watching as he kicked his pants and underwear off. You whined when he took too long but he soothed you with a kiss and then more down your neck, until he met the neckline of your t-shirt. He didn’t bother removing it though, just squeezed your breasts through it. You were glad, sure you’d implode if you didn’t have him immediately. Instead he kissed your lips again, fiercely, as you reached for his cock, willing him to hurry up and get hard enough. As soon as he was ready he pushed your hand away and pressed into your cunt with an ease that was somewhere between ridiculous and pathetic. “Fuck you’re soaked,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. Even if he had been speaking to you, you’re not sure you would have heard, much too preoccupied by how full you suddenly felt. It was such a contrast from the previous week of aching for it and all you could think to say was thank you, over and over as Roger slowly fucked into you. “You gotta stop squirming so much, love, or I’m gonna slip out,” You clenched around him at the suggestion, smiling when he tightened his grip on your thigh. Roger brought his fingers to your clit, circling it as you whined, your orgasm already so unbelievably close. It didn’t take much more than a couple of light circles around your clit to tip you over the edge. You weren’t sure you’d ever cum quite so hard from quite so little stimulation but you could barely speak, your breath catching in your throat along with your voice. Roger kept his fingers in place as he calmly thrust into you, egging you on, pushing you through the most well-earned orgasm you’d ever had. But he was by no means done with you. He gave you a few moments to calm and catch your breath, and then he shifted your legs over his shoulders, one at a time as you tried to brace yourself. He sunk deeper with the change of position, picking up his pace to fuck you harder, keeping a firm grip on you so that, even though your back arched and you writhed under him, head falling to one side and then whipping around to the other, you’d remain in place on his cock. With every thrust, every squeeze of his fingertips, you felt yourself drawing close to the edge again and you begged Roger, through gasped breaths, not to stop. He didn’t. He wouldn’t have even considered it until you told him to. “I can feel how close you are, love. Come on, cum for me. Show me just how much you like being fucked and cum,” “yes, yes, fuck yes,” “That’s right, good- good girl, f-fuck you’re tight. Fucking feel your cunt pul-sing. You’ve missed that feeling haven’t you?” You just nodded, head still foggy. “Think you’ve got another one in you? Or do you want me to stop?” “No, don’t stop,” Roger chuckled and pulled out of you as you whined but it was only so he could flip you onto your stomach and pull your hips up. Before you could even begin to complain about the sudden desertion, he was back inside you, pulling you back onto his cock as he rammed into you. “I want to hear you this time. You know I like how loud my slut gets,” There was no way you could deny a request like that, not when he was making you feel so good, filling you so perfectly, giving you exactly what you’d so desperately needed. You babbled for him, a mess of curses and half conceived thoughts about how good it felt mixed with whines and moans. And that only made him fuck you harder, until you came again, screaming his name. He fucked you through it, though he grunted with each thrust, holding off his own orgasm until he was sure you were satisfied. You swore you nearly came again as he spilled himself inside you before both of you collapsed bonelessly to the bed.

 You complained when Roger pulled out of you again, but he did make a good point about not wanting to crush you. And he made up for it by pulling you close and kissing you as much as he could, in between checking how you felt and if you were okay now. “Yeah, better,” you sighed, running you hand over his arm, “I really really needed that,” “I could tell. Sorry I made you wait so long,” “No, it was fun too, the waiting. But not forever, y’know.” “Yeah I do. If you ever want to try the whole chastity belt thing again we’ll be better, figure out how to make it fun again,” “Sounds good. But maybe not for a while,” “No, not for a while. I like fucking you too much to give it up again so soon,” You laughed at that, leaned in to kiss him again. “You’re probably too tired but, uh, I could go again if you wanted,” “Now?” “Maybe a minute?” “A minute sounds good and I’m not too tired. But if I was, maybe we could sleep like that, with you in me?” “Really?” “I don’t think you’ve grasped quite how badly I’ve wanted you since you first showed me the belt, how badly I still want you,” “I think that can be arranged then,” he laughed again, kissing you once more as he rolled back over.