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bakugostiddies · 3 years ago

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Please god do a villain!au with Todoroki 🧎‍♂️ I usually don't like those but omfg with him it would totally work

Absolutely. This turned into a 4k word fic, but I am too attracted to this man to be ashamed.

Icarus | Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: eventual smut, temperature play, impact play, kind of dub-con but not really, degradation, praise, villain!au, corruption kink, no gendered terms but reader has a vagina and breasts.

NSFW | 18+

You had fucked up.

The room was dark and dank, eerily quiet save for the sound of your breathing. You looked around frantically, struggling to break loose from the bonds that held you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

As your eyes adjusted, you noted that there was a door ahead of you, a steel one with two deadbolt locks. You could feel a metal chair beneath you, rattling each time you moved even slightly. Your arms and legs were restrained by some sort of extremely strong fabric, but your mouth was unrestricted. Shit. Shit. What was Endeavor going to say? You were still just his sidekick, but this was your first big operation and you blew it completely. He would kill you when you got back, you just knew it. Endeavor took his temper out on you even when you did well, which meant you had no clue what he would do to you after a fuckup this bad. Shit.

Calm down, Y/N, you told yourself mentally. You were safe and unharmed, so maybe they just wanted information. You attempted to activate your teleportation quirk, but it didn’t work. What happened? You could feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate. You didn’t want to die here, after being kidnapped by some asshole who wouldn’t even fight you face to face.

“If you’re wondering why you can’t use your quirk, we just took it away for a while.”

A voice emerged from the shadows of the room, soft and almost velvety. You flinched. You hadn’t even realized someone was here. How could you have missed something so obvious? You felt like a shitty fucking hero.

“Who are you?” You said after a moment.

“Im surprised you didn’t recognize me. Well, I suppose it is a bit dark in here.”

And suddenly with the flick of a match, the voice became a man and the shadows around the room came to life. You swallowed harshly, all of the moisture in your mouth gone. The man stalked towards you with a sureness of a predator and stopped a few feet away from where you were sat in the metal chair. You looked up at his two toned hair, his strong, rugged figure in the flickering light. He wore a suit not too different from that of a hero’s, but he was tinged with scorch marks and small icy spikes. He looked like he was made of fire.

“Well?” He said it softly, but there was a hint of malice in his tone. “Who am I?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, your body almost paralyzed with fear. You knew who he was, of course you did. He was the one who helped blew up that building on the case you were on a month ago. He was the one who ambushed those (kind of sleazy) businessmen on their way to a cartel. He was the one who’s name was whispered in fear and awe on the nations’ streets. He was standing right in front of you, looking… bored?

The man sighed and fiddled with his match. “Hurry it up, hero, I don’t have all day.”

You spoke almost inaudibly. “You’re Icarus.”

He smiled slightly and a chill ran down your spine.

“See? That wasn’t too hard.”

He moved a bit closer to you and leaned down, his heterochromatic eyes almost level with your own. A single gloved hand moved to touch your chin with his thumb and index finger, moving your head from side to side with a feather-light touch. You hoped he couldn’t feel how scared you were, how your body seethed and rejected his very presence.

He finally released your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Icarus removed a single glove and touched his fingers gently to the match. It went out without smoke or a flicker, just a gentle hiss of frozen silence. The room was dark again, and he was moving, knocking on one of the walls.

“Turn on the lights, Red Riot.”

Your eyes widened. Red Riot? Wasn’t he the pro-hero who became a villain after Dynamight? Holy shit, was Dynamight here? Icarus interrupted your train of thought as the lights flickered on almost menacingly. You noted your surroundings carefully, seeing a bed in the corner, a small table, and another chair. The room looked less like a prison and more like a shitty motel suite.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He sat down in a chair across from you, leaning forward with his arms on his thighs and his legs spread slightly.

“I don’t know, Icarus.”

“Heres a hint; it has something to do with your boss.”

“Endeavor?”

You could feel bile rushing up your throat but you swallowed it down. The man before you clenched his jaw rigidly, as if it pained him to hear the name, but returned to normal so quickly you might have imagined it.

“You’re a bright one. Yes, hero, the very same. And do you have any idea on what he’s planning to do, say, sometime in the next six months?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

His tone was harsher now and he got out of his chair, moving closer to you again. You felt so small under his scrutiny, yet drawn to him like a moth to a flame, like Icarus himself to the sun.

“You see, I’m the only reason you’re alive. And if you want to keep your pretty little head-“ he circled around behind you- “you will listen to what I say.” His voice was barely a whisper in your ear, and your voice hitched in your throat.

“Do you understand?” He asked, straightening up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was so goddamn humiliating, like your first day working with Endeavor all over again. With him, it was always a yes, sir, no, sir, please don’t make me work weekends, sir. But you swallowed your pride again and spat it out.

“Yes… sir.”

“A hero that obeys commands, what a find,” he said tauntingly. “But you could stand to lose that attitude.”

You wanted to slap him, to beat him up to the point of him being bruised and bloody and broken and then have him call you sir instead. God, if only you could teleport out of these fucking restraints-

“You’re thinking about using your quirk, correct?” It was like the asshole could read your mind.

“You can’t. Aizawa Sensei took yours away. You know him as Eraser-head.”

Fuck, Eraser-head was here too? All of the biggest villains were gathered here together and you- you could do nothing.

“So I’ll ask you again. What are Endeavor’s plans?”

At that moment, you made yourself a promise; that you would not let Icarus win. Little did you know that you would break that promise a thousand times over.

———-

Two days later:

———-

“Did Endeavor tell you about the attacks?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come on now, you can tell me. I won’t hurt you.”

“...”

“Still no response? No matter, I have time to get it out of you.”

———-

Seven days later:

———-

“Still not talking, hero?

Look at that, the silent treatment.

I never thought an adult could be so petty. Just tell me where I can get more information.

Nothing?

Okay. Eat your soup, I can’t have you dying on me before you start talking.

And hero? You will have to open your mouth sooner or later.”

————

16 days later:

————

“Cut the bullshit, hero. We know he has plans for a big attack sometime during the next six months, so either Deku is wrong, or you are lying to my face. And Deku’s never wrong.”

“Well, I guess he’s wrong this time.”

“Then I guess we’ll return you since this has all just been one big mishap.”

“Really?”

“No. You aren’t the smartest, are you?”

“Maybe my brain will somehow recall something about this totally real attack you think is happening if you give me better food?”

“Don't be a brat, hero. I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if I had known you would be so inconvenient.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

————

20 days later:

————

“Thanks for the bread, sir. It's quite an upgrade for a kidnapped person’s shitty meal.”

“You have low standards, hero.”

“Hey, why do you call me that?”

“What, hero?”

“Yeah. I have a name, you know. It's-“

“I know what your name is.”

“Okay, Jeez. If you knew it, then why not use it? Plus, I’m not even a hero yet. I’m still technically just a shitty sidekick who’s totally blown it on my first solo mission. I’m never going to be a pro at this rate, I might as well just give up.”

“I think you’re good.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re powerful and good at using your quirk. You have a lot of assets and it’s a shame your talent is wasted on Endeavor and the fools at the pro-hero agencies. It was difficult to actually catch you off guard, to get past your guards, to make sure your quirk was out of commission. And we are very strong.”

“Oh. Um, thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t thank me, hero. I’m just stating the obvious.”

————

25 days later:

————

“Why is your name Icarus?”

“It's not my real name.”

“Well no shit, dude. I'm asking why you chose it.”

“Icarus was a boy who followed his father’s instructions perfectly, but the moment he strayed from the path set out for him, he was punished, scalded by the flames of the sun, and cast away. But I think it was worth it for him in the end.”

“Why?”

“Because he was free. Because Icarus flew, and he was able to be his own person, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Do you feel like Icarus?”

“Most of the time I do, yes.”

“Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think that right now, you’re flying or cast away?”

“At this very moment, I think I am flying.”

“You know what? I think so too.”

————

29 days later:

————

“So what’s your real name, sir?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?”

“Classified. Also, I don’t need you to know my name.”

“But you know mine!”

“That's because you’re a prisoner, in case you’ve forgotten. You are almost unnervingly at ease here.”

“I’ve met three people so far and you have all given me no reason to fear.”

“Really? Not even Dynamight?”

“His hair makes me laugh. Plus, I can’t take airheads with overinflated egos seriously.”

“I agree with that assessment wholeheartedly.”

“You agree with my assessment- Sir, you sound like an old man.”

“I’m only three years older than you, you know.”

“Really? But you have all of these wrinkles?”

“I do not have wrinkles.”

“Fine, frown lines then.”

“That makes it sound like I don’t smile.”

“Well, you don’t!”

“It’s hard to find things to smile about.”

“God, you’re such an Edgelord.”

“What do you mean by that? hero, stop laughing.”

“You are definitely an old man.”

————

30 days later:

————

There had been a new development a couple of days ago in the kidnapping situation. You could feel your quirk again, which meant a lot of things. It meant you weren’t here against your will anymore, that you were free to go. Yet you remained. You still stayed in the same room with Icarus checking in on you in the afternoons. However, it had been given furniture- a desk and more comfortable chairs, a small rug on the floor, and thicker blankets. It was almost like you weren’t even a prisoner anymore. You could always leave, you reasoned. You could teleport out of here. Your quirk was back, and yet you stayed.

The other villains had taken a liking to you for reasons beyond your comprehension, but all it meant was that you were never short on company. Dynamight would burst in to complain about how Deku always got the best missions, Red Riot would bring in a deck of cards and the two of you would play go fish or bluff, even Deku would occasionally check up on you and make sure you were comfortable. But your afternoons? They were always set aside for your favorite visitor- Icarus.

...

“You haven’t answered my question about your name yet.”

You were sitting on the cot in your almost room, feet dangling off the edge and swinging back and forth. Icarus was sitting on his chair again, but lazily, with his arms locked behind his head and his legs precariously balanced against the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t answered any of my questions since you got here, so I don’t believe you have a right to complain.”

He was right, of course. He always was. But technically, he was equally at fault in this case. He was the one who sucked at interrogation, so much so that you took pity on his colleagues. They would have to deal with his lack of results.

You weren’t complaining, however. You enjoyed talking to him, looking at him, being in his presence. It was a stupid crush to have, but you didn’t care. He was beautiful to look at, the way his biceps curled behind his head, the lean toughness of his body, the sheer strength he possessed. Your eyes trailed down his sprawling figure, tracing each indent and dip and curve of his skin in your mind.

“Are you finished staring at me?” His words jerked you out of your stupor and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I-I wasn’t- I didn’t-“ you babbled until he stopped you.

“Don’t worry, it’s only natural to find me… appealing. You haven’t spent time with anyone else for a very long time.”

You almost screamed on the spot, burying your face in your hands. You peeked out between your splayed fingers to look at him, seemingly unbothered save for the slight pink tinge hidden beneath his bangs.

“How can you say things like that, sir?”

“Like what?”

“Uhm, never mind.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up whole. He was so, so dense, it was a wonder he even noticed you basically eye-fucking him. You felt the cot creak beside you and a slight dip in the weight. Icarus had seated himself beside you on the small bed and was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“I did not mean to shame you for your gaze, hero.”

He said it gently and kindly. It would be almost romantic if not for the situation you were in. You remained silent, so he continued.

“I believe it is normal for you to feel this way towards someone who has been in such close quarters with you for so long a time. You should be glad that you still have these urges.”

You suppressed a groan. This felt like having the sex talk with your parents all over again. “Sir-“

“-in fact, everyone feels them!”

He was rambling, oh god you needed him to shut up-

“I feel them for you all the time, and I’m completely normal.”

And suddenly, the air changed between you into something charged and heated.

“You… have urges around me?” You wanted to hear him say it again, just once, but he turned away from you, tensing up and rising from his seat awkwardly. His face was stony and his hair covered his eyes like bicolored curtains. There suddenly was space between the two of you, some insurmountable gap that could not be bridged.

“I apologize deeply. I have misspoken.”

“Sir, wait, you don’t have to leave!” You cried out as he made his way to the door.

“But I do. You don’t deserve this treatment, and it is cruel of me to hurt you in this manner.”

And that was when something broke within you, something that had been holding you together this whole time.

“No.”

He turned around, almost scared by the anger in your voice.

“This is when you decide to stop? You have literally kidnapped me, interrogated me, left me in all but isolation, for a fucking month. You took me from everything that I wanted and everyone that I love and yet, and YET, I wanted you. Goddamn it, I still want you. I don’t understand why. So don’t apologize to me for misleading me or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve decided to use as a sheild. Apologize for everything you have done to me, you fucking cunt.”

And then your voice broke and you could feel the tears rushing to your eyes, your vision turning glassy as your chest heaved with sobs. You could feel yourself slipping away, your breaths growing shallow and your body shaking. Why did you stay here? Why didn’t you leave when you could? What was the point, if Icarus didn’t even want you?

And then, suddenly, you felt warm.

Icarus, sir, whoever the fuck he was, was holding you tightly in his arms, head dipped down into the crook of your neck, his arms enveloping you in his warmth. He was your sun. And he could scorch you again and again but you would still be drawn to him.

Your panic died down and you wept for the first time since you arrived. The two of you sank down to the floor, his apologies muttered swiftly and quietly against your skin. You were in his lap now, your body curled up into a ball in his embrace, one of his palms cupping your face. He turned you slightly towards him.

His eyes were wet too, but only slightly, and his fingers were thumbing at the tears on your cheeks. One of them got close to the corner of your mouth and slowly but surely, with almost childlike fascination, he pushed the tip of it in. Your tongue ran along the edges of it, the salty taste leaving you wanting more.

And slowly, Icarus leaned forward, his lovely face the closest you had ever been to him. He removed his finger from your mouth and kissed you instead, gently, and then all at once.

It was a furious kiss, on that burned and heated a cold room. You could feel teeth and tongue and hot tears, a clashing finale of a kiss. It was against your lips that he murmured his name.

“My name is Todoroki Shouto.”

He said it softly, leaving your lips to place open-mouthed kisses on your neck that left you moaning and had wetness pooling between your legs. But suddenly, your eyes snapped open.

“Todoroki? As in-“

He kissed you again to silence as you felt the questions racing through your head. Endeavor was Todoroki Enji, right? But he had never mentioned having kids to you? Was Shouto lying to you? Why did he want to destroy his father? And how were you-

“Shh.” Shouto tapped his forehead to yours. “Let me take care of you.”

Fuck it. The questions could wait.

Shouto reached down to pull off your shirt and groaned at the sight of you. He looked at you in wonder.

“You- hero, you make me feel like I’m on fire.” He said it with such sincerity that you nearly cried again were it not for his palming of your breasts, his burning fingertips tweaking your nipples and making you whimper slightly.

“I am so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I put you through-“ you were placed on the bed- “I’m sorry for taking you away-“ He was kneeling, fucking kneeling, between your legs- “but most of all-“ fuck, he placed hot kisses on your stomach as he pulled your pants down-

“I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to do this sooner.”

And with that, his tongue was lapping at you through your panties, new ones that the villains had provided for you, with reckless abandon. Your hands tugged at his hair and you heard his hum of a chuckle as a vibration on your pussy. There was pressure, so much pressure from him against you, like nothing you had felt before, and when he finally pushed your panties aside, they were soaking wet.

Shouto looked up at you for a moment, meeting your gaze with his own, eyes sparkling with desire. And then, without a word, He pressed a small kiss to your clit that had you jolt slightly before he dove in. He had you moaning within seconds, his tongue lapping at your folds before swirling around your clit. You felt yourself reaching a climax- it was too good and too fast and too much and- Shouto pushed a finger inside you and crooked it slightly and you began humping your hips upwards as he nursed at your clit. Your climax was swift and powerful, but he didn’t move throughout it. Even as you came down from your high, his mouth planted on you and his finger gently pumped in and out. Shouto added one more easily, and you swore you saw stars when he began thrusting. He fucked you with his fingers, marveling at your reactions, the sounds you made, your pussy pulling him in.

“Fuck, hero, you’re so wet. Is this all for me? Have you gotten off to me fucking you like this in this bed?”

You moaned loudly and Shouto removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. There was a dark look in his eyes that you remembered from the first day you arrived.

“Answer me, hero.”

You nodded your head slightly, but that wasn’t enough for him. He rose to his feet and without warning, he smacked your clit. You squealed loudly from the stimulation, the pain turning into pleasure quickly. His palm was cold as ice, and you squirmed dumbly against his touch.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, yes, sir, I’ve thought about you fucking me everywhere in this room-“

Shouto’s palm reverted back to his normal temperature and you sighed with relief as he cupped your pussy and rubbed it gently.

“What a good, slutty, hero. Have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

You blushed slightly and hid your face behind your hands. God, this was embarrassing. Of course you had gotten off to the thought of him, but to say it out loud was a different feeling altogether.

You took too long and Shouto spanked your clit again. You let out a shriek and tried to wriggle away from him, but he just pulled you closer.

“I want to see your face, doll.” You whimpered at the new pet name. “Now, have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

“Y-yes sir-”

“Y-yes s-sir-‘ so shy for someone who wants a villain to fuck your hero pussy into behaving.” he palmed himself over his trousers, letting out a little huff of pleasure. “I want to, shit, want to fucking ruin you.”

Shouto pulled you to him as your hips thrust desperately against the air.

“Yes sir! Want you to fuck me, want you inside me-“

He groaned and humped into you, the metal of his belt buckle catching against your clit and making you flinch with overstimulation. Shouto noticed and pulled you closer as he stood at the side of the bed, your back flat against the mattress and your hips arched upwards to meet his bulge. He rutted into you again, forcing your pussy to kiss the metal of the buckle once more. You felt your body seizing up, your orgasm building inside you, and Shouto, with a sadistic gleam in his eyes, pressed his buckle harder against you.

The longer it stayed there, the more it heated up, almost more pain than pleasure, until Shouto wrapped your legs around his waist and thrust against you. There was a wet patch on his pants and you kept shrinking away from the burning hot metal that teased at your clit.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell-” He managed to spit out, “I’m not even inside you and you’re dripping all over me like a bitch in heat-”

He continued to hump you roughly, each time more forceful than the last until you came loudly as Shouto pushed your body into the belt buckle. “No more, Shouto, please, no more- its too much-”

“Too much for you already, hero? I haven’t even come yet. And you- how many times have you reached your climax today?”

You almost screamed with frustration- how were you supposed to know, you didn't fucking keep track-

“I can tell you, brat.” He grabbed your waist and flipped you easily onto your stomach. You were completely exposed to him now, unable to see his face, out of control entirely.

“You have come three fucking times. That doesn’t feel very fair to me, does it? Do you want my cum inside you?”

You buried your face into your pillow, and he pushed down slightly on your lower back, creating an arch. You startled when he teased his cockhead against the surface of your pussy, wetness coating his dick.

“Shouto, I want your cum-”

His palm came down hard on your asscheek, forcing a gasp out of you as he rubbed it softly with his palms. He leaned closer towards you, his voice whispering in your ear.

“Then beg.”

And, with your voice muffled by the pillow, you followed his orders.

“Sir, fuck me, please, please- I need you inside me, I need you to cum for me, please- Shouto, Daddy-“

Your begging got cut off by him thrusting into you. You screamed and he shushed you gently, holding your hand with his own. “Do you think you can take the rest of it?”

The rest of it? There was more? You looked over your shoulder and nearly passed out. You had barely taken half of his length and you were already completely filled up. But… you wanted to feel him, all of him, so you muttered a soft “yes.”

“Okay, baby, take it easy…” he eased a couple more inches into you before you tightened up, your pussy clenching and back arching as he slid in. “Oh fuck,” Shouto groaned. “Do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.”

And of course, you grinned. And proceeded to clench yourself around his length again.

Shouto nearly growled. “I warned you, hero.”

And then, he thrust into you. Hard. And he kept going, pumping in and out of your body like a machine, his thumb rubbing against your clit and his other hand on your leg. You are screaming and crying and babbling on about how good his cock is, how good you felt, how this is what you wanted. And Shouto? The cocky bastard was gloating.

“Look at you, such a good slut on my cock. Are you crying? God, thats so fucking hot. I’ve got a cute little hero crying on my dick. I know you can use your quirk now, Hero, I know Aizawa sensei returned it to you. Did you stay because you wanted me to fuck you like this? Did you want to be corrupted?”

“Yes,” you’re almost incoherent, “yes, ruin me, make me a villain, I wanna be a villain!”

Shouto slows his pace for a moment. “You would leave Endeavor? Leave the agency?”

“Yes, I would, Shouto, fuck, anything for you-”

He slapped the inside of your thigh before resuming his pace again. You had never felt so full before, his dick reaching places within you that you didn’t even know existed. His palms gripped the sides of your hips so tightly you thought you might bruise, tiny burn marks already forming in the place of his fingertips. You were close, so close, your tears and drool spilling over your pillow and your body limp and helpless before him. Shouto felt you clenching around him, completely spent.

“Do you want to cum again? What a greedy pussy you have, hero, a needy little cumdump.”

You couldnt get words out, croaking out your mumbled yeses and nodding your head vigorously. He pounded even harder into you and reached around your thighs to your clit, rubbing it in tiny circles as he fucked you. You could feel your climax building for the fourth time and you twitched pathetically beneath him. Finally, Shouto pinched your clit slightly and you came with a wail of his name.

He fucked you through your orgasm, but he was slower now, his strokes hitting you deeper than before.

“Do, fuck- do you want me to cum in your pretty pussy?”

Shouto was hunched over you, his head resting on your back and his arms caging you in so that he was all that surrounded you. His breath came out in cold pants and his thrusts got more and more erratic as he neared his own climax.

“Please, I need you to want this, I need you- shit, I...” You could hear the desperation in his voice, how he yearned for you, and you the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Yes, Daddy! Want you to come inside, fucking breed me-”

“Oh fuck, Y/n-”

And then Shouto came with a groan, his cum splattering your insides with warmth. He pressed kisses to your spine, trailing his fingers down your arms as he turned you to the side. He didn’t pull out of you as he did so, causing you to groan slightly. Finally, he released you and gently removed his dick from where you were connected. Some of his cum oozed out and he pushed it back in with his fingers, trapping his seed within you forever.

The pair of you laid together side by side for a moment, Shouto’s fingers tracing your body with slow, lingering touches as if he was afraid you would shatter the moment he pressed too hard.

You were the one who broke the silence. “ You said my real name.”

“I did. I love your name, Y/n. It just felt... wrong to say it when you were my prisoner. It was easier to distance myself from you if I just thought of you as a random hero. But you’re more than that now.”

You stared straight into his eyes, your hands reaching up to run gently through his silky hair. “I’m not leaving, Shouto. I’m never leaving this place. And I’m not just staying for you- I like it here. The villains like me, and they respect me. You aren’t bad people- if anything, the rest of the world has been far worse than anything or anyone I’ve faced here. It feels like I’m finally home.”

Shouto gathered you into his arms and pressed you tightly to his side. “You will be mine now,” he said almost matter-of-factly.

“And you will be mine as well.” You planted a small kiss to his nose that made his eyelids flutter and a slight blush crawl onto his cheeks.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “And I am not even close to being good enough for you.”

Shouto’s eyes were downcast and you could see the doubt creeping in. You gently pressed your fingers to his furrowed brows and soothed the wrinkles away. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He asked.

“Put yourself down. You are more than enough for me. And Shouto? I don’t need the world. I already reached my sun.”

He smiled at you then, with no underlying malice, no undertone of darkness. It was blinding. Goddamn it, you would do anything to see that smile for the rest of your life.

“That was terribly cheesy, Y/n.”

“Shut up, Shouto.”

He kissed you, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering up a storm. Todoroki Shouto was your sun, and you were his. And even if you both melted away under your flames, it would have been worth the loss.

-Bonus-

2 weeks later:

“So, uhm, Y/n, Todoroki, we were reviewing the footage from Y/n’s old room the other day. While we’re all happy you two are *ahem* together now, maybe you can display your... appreciation for one another in a more private place?” Kirishima was blushing profusely and refused to meet your eyes. Suddenly, it clicked for you.

“WE WERE BEING RECORDED?”

“And?”

“SHOUTO!”

“Ah yes, how horrible and violating, I feel as though I have been exposed indecently without my permission for the perverted public to see. They will be unable to contain themselves when faced with my immeasurably sexy figure.”

“You are NOT being helpful.”

“I beg to differ, Y/n. Kirishima, is there any way you can send me a copy of the tape-”

-----------

A/N: I hope you like this and please let me know if I should do a villain!UA series because I only write under the influence of peer pressure.

#todoroki x you #shouto smut #mha smut #shouto x y/n #shouto x reader #villain!shouto #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #bnha smut #bnha fluff #mha imagines #bnha imagines #shouto fluff #shouto angst #nee talks

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skiyoosmi · 4 years ago

Text

post-break up heartaches

⤷ verse 2. in the dreams that we once shared

⤷ miya osamu, bokuto koutarou

⤷ verse 1 | verse 3

⤷ play. sorrow by sleeping at last, wrong direction by hailee steinfield

commissions: open

⇢ OSAMU stays still in his seat, melancholic eyes contrasting your bright ones while you twirl around in the middle of the ballroom. he admits, your dream wedding gown fit your figure perfectly as it flowed so gracefully the more you moved. but no beauty can compare to the happiness on your face as you danced with his previous volleyball teammate; the latter having a small smile on his face, not even having a single care about the funny looks you've been getting from your distant relatives. despite the minimal expression he adorns, to someone who has known him for a long time, it's clear as day just how ecstatic suna rintaro was to declare you as his wife, just as you were to call him your husband.

that could've been us, his mind screams all throughout the time he's been in the wedding ceremony, that could've been him dancing with you. he remembers little by little— how those smiles and laughters used to be solely for him whenever you try out his new recipes, from tasty to funny, how he used to be the one suddenly dragged to dance with you, how you used to dream of being married to him. him and only him.

but time was a cruel thing. he should've known better than to keep you waiting for more than so many years with nothing but empty and broken promises. i'll be done soon, yn, you know how much this means to me, this is my dream we're talking about here. stop being selfish please— he recalls himself telling you. he fails to see the disappointment and hurt that cross your eyes, fails to protect the already fragile relationship as you say your goodbye's to him a few more arguments and weeks later— i'm sorry for holding you back, samu. make sure to reach your dreams, okay?

i'm sorry. no matter how many times he says it, your fate was already done with him. you only needed him and he couldn't even give you that.

"hey there, stranger. wanna dance for a bit?"

he looks up, blinded by your brightness that almost seemed as if it mocked his sappy mood but he nods nevertheless, taking your hands as you pull him to the dance floor. in his peripheral view, he sees suna give him a wholehearted smile.

"you should stop frowning. it doesn't suit your face you know? what did you do to my lively samu?" you huff after a few minutes of nothing but silence and awkwardness while you swayed side to side with him, pouting when he shrugs, "you're such a gloomy ass! are you still in love with me or something?"

you swear it was supposed to be a joke, something to lighten the air between you two. but how were you supposed to laugh when he replied to you in the way you least expected?

"yeah, actually, i still am."

silence engulfed the two of you as you tried to overcome your shock. and for all the years he has been with you, it was painfully obvious that the answer he hopes for will not come. not now, not ever.

"samu... it's been—"

"i know. almost 8 years, is it? i know but i can't help it, yn. how could i when you're literally all i see everywhere i look?"

you fail to give him back a reply and (un)fortunately, he feels a tap on his shoulder and immediately, he knew it was time. he lets go of your waist and turns around, heart ready to get drowned by the bitter wine he's planning to drink all throughout the night, accompanied by the tears he won't be able to let out until he comes back to his hotel room.

"congratulations on your wedding, yn."

he ignores the hollowness inside him brought about by the unfinished conversation and goes back to his seat and repeats it like a mantra: not all fairytales get their happy ending.

and much to his dismay, his was one of those that don't.

⇢ BOKUTO was a star, luminous and blinding yet always longing to be part of the galaxy that held the awe of many other people. he was a child with dreams that wander all over the world and with confidence, he wants hear it, see that same world cheer for him.

he was an enormous star but his dreams were even bigger— and as he reaches out his hand to take more of what the universe can give him, he unknowingly lets go of yours.

"you look like you've dropped a huge shit on your underwear with the way you're staring down the court," konoha comments as he takes the seat he reserved beside you, hands deep in his pocket while he does so.

you glare at him, scoffing at his vulgar choice of words, "and you look like that shit, asshole. we haven't seen each other for so long and that's how you greet me?"

he laughs out loud, opening his arms and shoving you in them, "here! is this what you wanted instead? so adorable, yn! i knew you loved me at some point!"

you let out a series of groans, struggling to get out of his hold, "no! you're so annoying, get off me!"

he cackles, releasing you as the buzz rings out throughout the whole court, signaling the beginning of the match between msby and schweiden adlers. you shift in your seat, watching the players get introduced one by one, gasping when your ex-boyfriend literally does two cartwheels in his turn. is he... serious?

"where does he think he is... some kind of circus?" konoha snickers, shaking his head in amusement. oddly, you find yourself laughing with your companion. after all, this was typical bokuto, so full of energy and surprises.

"he looks... okay. very much okay," you bitterly state, placing your chin right on your palm as your arms and elbows rested on your lap. envy envelops your whole being as you watch him lively wave to the crowds, a large grin staying on his face. you huff silently, eyes trying to look at the other players but gravity seems to be playing its tricks on you as you find yourself reverting back to his figure. you wonder if time will let you become that happy someday.

"you're not...?" the lad beside you trails off, sighing when you shake your head 'no.'

"of course not yet, aki. it's not that i still love him or anything but he's just... he was everything, you know? he's become part of all my routines and now that he's gone, it... it just feels empty. like the dreams that used to help me sleep at night suddenly went away," he nods, not pushing you to say anything further. you both knew better than to have a shameful breakdown in public.

"god, i keep forgetting that the air conditioning in here is the worst," you grumble under your breath, rubbing your hands together to keep them from freezing out... because bokuto was no longer there to keep them warm, no longer there to offer you his own hands because you both forgot your gloves at home, no longer there to blow on them as if it was effective (it distracted you both at least), no longe—

"here, give me your hand," konoha reaches out to you, palms awaiting for yours to be in contact with his. you blink, surprised by his sudden offer, along with the pink hues that dusted both sides of his cheeks.

"we can't have them becoming numb, can we? i... i want to hold these hands for a very long time, you know?" he stutters as he begins rubbing both of your hands together, successfully getting rid of the cold and providing a new warmth you never expected will come sooner. oh... it's time, huh?

"uhm... yeah... thank you," you felt your face get hot. it seems like something... rather, someone has come to distract from the coldness you've been recently feeling.

"give me your days," he coughs out, still blushing. if anything, he's flushing even more now, "i'll fill the emptiness in them... and... and i can be your dream so you can sleep tight... and you'll be mine."

you gape at him, thousands of scenes flying through your mind but all of them led to one specific scenario.

"i... i have a lot of dreams, yn! i want to become a star player, someone who everyone will look up to and cheer for! and i... i think i want to focu—"

"i get it, bo. i'll get out of your way then. thank you... for everything."

"i-i'll be your dream?"

konoha chokes on his own saliva, "y-yeah! don't make me repeat it though, do you even know how cheesy that sounds? i can't believe i just said that, god... the things you make me do, you...!"

"okay."

it was his turn to blink, "e-eh?"

"i guess this is day one then?"

"eh?! wait... we... we're dating now, right?!"

"shut up now, aki."

as his golden eyes observe the two figures sitting by the stands, bokuto wishes he could've seen sooner that you were the one he had always been dreaming of, yearning for; wishes it could be him that was holding your hands again and he swears to whoever god there is, he won't let go of them anymore.

but then again, it seems like you were finally ready to wander with someone that wasn't him— who was he to stop you from doing so?

he was just a star;

you were the whole universe,

his universe.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #bokuto x reader #osamu headcanons #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu writings #haikyuu angst #miya osamu #bokuto kotaro #haikyuu fics #hq x reader #haikyuu hcs #post break-up heartaches

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hoe-imaginess · 5 years ago

Text

vanilla | dabi

very alpha!Dabi x fem omega!Reader

summary: Dabi isn’t aware that the LoV has an omega up for grabs, not until he accidentally comes across you in heat.

word count: 11.7k

contains: dub-con elements, scent kink, humiliation, masturbation, hella dirty talk, mentions of blood/burns, Dabi being an all around bastard

a/n: commissioned by K to share part of my ABO fic. Most ABO stuff makes me squeamish so I leave out token tropes (aka knots) another private fic that I didn’t plan on posting so it’s kinda uhhhhh bad lmao. will possibly post more but idk.

DON'T let the title mislead you ok Dabi is anything but vanilla

⤰

When he found the safehouse, Dabi knocked at the front entrance.

For a long time there was no response, and he tried again, louder this time and with more exasperation.

“Coming,” he heard a shout finally, muffled across the steel door.

Dabi rubbed his eyes to put some pressure behind them, in hopes it might too take that same pressure away from the sting in his nose.

Some heady omega in the area was in heat, and a bad one; the entire neighborhood reeked of the tantalizing aroma.

He groaned, jaw tensing, and with practiced composure put the fire down in his body. He had enough of it running under his skin every second of the day in the form of his quirk. He didn’t need any more. But it was getting worse the longer he waited there with that smell tiding in the air.

He didn’t even know why he was there, doing such a chore, in the first place.

Maybe it was because this League of Villains business was a promising crusade; he’d heard good things and seen for himself some profit in the affiliation, even despite how profusely he disliked the weird hand-guy, or how awkward the black fog in a suit could be.

The other recruit, Toga—who he found as equally disagreeable as the rest—had all but blindsided him that evening as he exited the dainty bar which they called headquarters.

Could you do me a favor, Dabi? she’d entreated with an attempt at innocent, girl-like charm: a tactic which, as it usually did, failed. The manic grin on her face had only made him want to be away from her company all the sooner.

No, he’d said, and pushed past her.

But she’d skipped after him, steadfast.

Tomura had asked her to run an errand in one of the more dangerous parts of the city, she’d said, but she wasn’t sure what to do. She was just a girl, after all. Couldn’t Dabi do her this one favor and take the responsibility off her hands? She was too nervous to take a trip like that, and so late in the night.

Bullshit, he’d said, but instead of protesting in defense of herself, she’d just giggled like a lunatic, dropping her pretense.

Still, when she said it was a delivery which needed to be made to you, the only member of the League he had yet to officially meet, curiosity pinched him.

Indifferent as he was to comradery, he was undeniably interested in unearthing the particulars of this would-be villainous syndicate, which included being at least somewhat familiar with his allies. He knew you had been an original member even before he and the psycho schoolgirl came into the fold; but little else.

You needed a delivery to be made to one of the League’s safehouses? Well, maybe he could oblige, if only to snoop around. Shigaraki was particularly fastidious with the information he willfully shared, and Dabi would take any opportunity to filch information under the boss’s nose in stride.

After all, if Toga, a new—and undoubtedly incompetent—recruit was being tasked with these deliveries, why not Dabi? Why not Kurogiri, who could make the shipment with ease given his quirk?

What was going on behind the scenes that Dabi wasn’t seeing?

Underwhelming as his first task as a newcomer would be, he saw it as an opportunity. He could be a good and useful asset to the League just for the night, he’d decided, when he told Toga he would do it. He was headed to that side of town anyways, he’d said.

So there he found himself, his foot tapping impatiently on the ground as he waited outside the safehouse.

That goddamn scent that wafted around the building... Why did he feel as though he’d smelled it before? And why did it smell so… sickeningly sweet?

He tried to distract himself by musing over what might have solicited these late-night deliveries, for example: what was in this suitcase he was meant to give you.

Toga had handed it to him with such a twisted, giddy smile on her face that he was half-convinced it was a bomb ready to blow and scatter him into pieces for her sick delight. Once he’d found it locked, he’d given up on guessing the contents after he shook the thing and the rattling inside gave no indication of the secrets it held.

More distraction, he entreated himself.

He thought of the itch of his staples, the uncomfortable tingle on his ridged skin when the air brought heavy wind against it. He thought of anything that might take away from the smell of raw heat in the area, but it was an instinctual pull that left him fidgeting where he stood.

He was about ready to leave the suitcase at the door and hit the road, when there was a commotion from across the threshold.

The aroma that burst from the opening door completely smothered him, made every bone in his body feel like smoldering steel; made lightning shoot down his veins and a low breath catch in his lungs.

You blanked when you saw him there, your pupils blowing wide with shock, then, if he read it correctly, fear.

He sniffed hard, his body scrambling for a source to the scent that begged his alpha inclinations to go wild. The inhalation sent pinpricks of warmth down to his feet. The smell was overwhelming now, almost dizzying.

And it was coming from you.

“Fuck,” he spat, and covered his nose with his arm, backing away from the door.

You slammed it shut, your heart racing.

“What are you doing here?!” you demanded.

“Came to give you this goddamn shit,” he snapped, throwing the suitcase at the door. It landed with a violent thud. His limbs jerked with frayed nerves, like the sun was heating his skin and crawling down to his center. “Are you an idiot!? You know I’m an—”

“I do that’s why I wanted Toga to bring it—”

“She had me do it,” he shouted, and backed himself against the opposite alley wall, a hand clenching and unclenching against his clothed thigh.

Goddamn your smell. Goddamn it. Like vanilla. Horribly sweet. So fucking potent.

He threw his head back against the wall, ignoring the throbbing pain it kneaded into his skull, and breathed hard.

He wanted to bust down the door. His legs twitched at the impulse; fingers tensed and flames licked their tips.

It would be easy. Kick it down. Burn it down. Burn the whole goddamn place down if need be. He wanted to force his way in, wanted to claw at your clothes and shove himself inside you—

Instead he took another deep breath, and loosed it on a shaky sigh.

He’d handled omega heats before, why was he like this now? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was too much.

“You need to leave,” you muttered from the other side of the door, so resolute and aggrieved that he would have never guessed you were keeled over on the floor, legs shut tight and body shivering. His alpha smell was nauseating you; it was strong and dominating and demanding that you open yourself to him. “Now.”

“Yeah I’m goin',” he snapped angrily, storming off down the alley once his legs restored their loyalty to his head, and not what was between his legs. “Fuck."

⤰

Dabi stroked himself hard and fast and rough, nose pressed into his sleeve, breathing in the sweet tang of vanilla that lingered between the fibers.

He growled out his next breath, and it sputtered off into a wobbly sigh as he closed his eyes and thought of you: those perfect tits he was sure you were hiding under your clothes; your ass, which would look like nice, he knew, with his handprints burned onto the skin; and then your cunt—fuck, he could almost imagine how tight it was, how hotly it would grip him and milk every last fucking drop of his cum—the mere vision of it pink and twitching and spread out for him was like an explosive punch to his gut.

He came in thick, hot spurts, some rolling over his knuckles as he quickly twisted his fist over the cockhead, others staining the brick wall in front of him with ropey, white streaks.

“Fuck,” he panted, chest heaving, limbs trembling. A hand shot to the wall and braced himself there for balance, kept him upright while his quivering knees threatened to fail him.

When was the last time he’d even had to rub one out like this? In a dirty fucking alley? And least of all because of some stupid omega?

Goddamn you, he thought.

⤰

“Dabi!” Toga squealed when he returned to the bar later in the morning. She sniffed the air, breathed in his smokey scent, and flashed a hungry smile, tongue dipping out to wet her eager lips. “You smell so strong. Are you worked up?” Then her eyes were bright and thrilled. “Oh? Oh?! Did you see _____-chan? Did you?"

“Yeah, you crazy idiot.” Dabi slammed the bar door shut behind him. "You just forget to mention that she was in heat?”

Shigaraki, who’d been previously uninterested in the debacle, now looked up from his game. “What?”

Toga giggled. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Did you smell her? Oh, it’s so nice, isn’t it?” The girl’s eyes twitched and rolled back loftily in ravenous remembrance. “_____-chan smells so sweet. So sweet—”

“You caught her in heat?” Shigaraki asked, accusative but curious. “Are you stupid?"

Scowling, Dabi jerked a thumb at Toga. “Dipshit over here had me take some stuff over to that safehouse you got. I didn’t fuckin’ know."

“You dumb girl,” Shigaraki snapped, turning on her now. “Are you brain dead? Or do you really not get why omegas hide from alphas during heats? Why do you think we have a beta like you go do deliveries now?”

“I know what happens!” she contended. “I thought she could use some company. She smells so delicious. Was it fun, Dabi? Was it fun and romantic and—”

“Try infuriating,” Dabi spat, then set his anger on Shigaraki. “You’re no better. Either of you.” He nodded his head at Kurogiri behind the bar. “Would’ve been nice to know you had an unmated omega in your group.”

“Thought you’d noticed by now,” Shigaraki replied, now somewhat subdued, and tending to his game again. “What, your nose doesn’t work?”

“It works fuckin’ fine. Just didn’t realize that scent you got around here all the time was hers.”

In recollection, he put his sleeve over his nose. The sweet smell had vanished, but the memory of it still haunted his senses, made every nerve in his body flutter with excitement. It was driving him fucking insane.

“How the hell do you two work with an omega?” Dabi asked. “That gets heats like that, no less.”

“We’re not animals,” the leader replied. “Some of us can handle it.”

“My ass. Guessin’ that’s the reason she’s never around, huh? You don’t seem very disciplined. Bet you catch one whiff of that slick and go completely ape shit.”

Shigaraki scowled, affronted.

“It was our mistake not warning you,” Kurogiri conciliated the blame, clearly nervous, and possibly displeased by the crass talk. “We were under the impression that you knew. We’ve taken steps to lessen the risk in our years together. We are somewhat… desensitized.”

“Good for you,” Dabi muttered. “I ain’t. A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“Now you know,” Shigaraki said, scratching peevishly at his neck. “Stop complaining. You’ll get used to it.”

Dabi tsked. “Yeah, you better hope I do.” Then he stalked off.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Shigaraki asked Toga once the other alpha had departed.

Toga keened happily, still enamored with Dabi’s untamed scent. Alphas were so delicious when worked up.

“I forgot,” she insisted dreamily. “Honest, I did.”

“That was a very risky mistake,” Kurogiri was saying, black vapors flitting nervously about his frame. “As a beta, you may not be aware of the risks that both alphas and omegas face when it comes to positions of power–”

Toga pouted and whined, like a child whose gleeful imagination had been thwarted. “I don’t get it. I was just doing them both a favor. Alphas are supposed to take of omegas in heat, aren’t they? What’s the big deal?” She had a stupid smile on her face again, rapt with thoughts of desire. “It must be so nice as an alpha, getting to take any little omega you want… they’re so needy.”

“The big deal, you damn idiot,” Shigaraki started, “is that a guy like that is too selfish to put our objectives before his prick. There’s a reason we don’t mess with that heat and rutting crap here. Complicates things. Makes everyone go crazy. Like you.”

She tittered like a lunatic, proud of her indignity. “She smells so good, Tomura. It’s not fair. Not fair at all.”

⤰

After your heat, once you’d returned to the bar, you ignored Dabi to the best of your ability.

At first, he seemed content enough to reciprocate the caution. You both treaded carefully: any eye-contact made would be swiftly curtailed with averted gazes; you cleared a room whenever he entered, and vice versa, he acted as though you were invisible to him.

It would be fine, you’d told yourself. You’d dealt with the ugly dynamics your omega lifestyle wrought countless times. You could do it again. Dabi was a new recruit, after all. Promising—albeit coarse—according to Tomura. His contribution to the team far outweighed the plights of your personal struggles. You would be fine. It would be fine.

But those lofty self-reassurances were short-lived.

You were sitting in one of the bar’s empty rooms when he sought you out. You smelled him before he rounded the corner, and fear gripped you when the alpha bouquet invaded your senses. But then something else came to seek your submission: an instinctual calling on the wisps of his scent, bringing an anxious and conflicting nostalgia back to you.

God his smell had followed you for days: a smokey aroma, but something so fresh underneath it, like cold mint. You’d never been so enthralled by a scent before, never been so tempted to give in to carnal desire and offer yourself to a being nature had designated as your superior: an alpha.

He stood in the doorway of the room, just looking at you; you stared back, frozen, and made yourself small in hopes that you might avoid whatever confrontation was to come.

“Your heats always that stupidly strong?” he asked.

You blanched and took a deep breath to quell your unease. You wished to anything that the world would swallow you and take you away from what was undoubtedly going to be one of the worst, most uncomfortable confrontations of your life.

“Yes,” you said. “That’s why I have to go away.”

“Why? I mean, most omegas do it. Usually to work it out themselves, right? Bet that little delivery I made was a bunch of toys, wasn’t it?”

“No,” you said, feeling embarrassed by the mere speculation. “It was a suppressant. They don’t usually work on me... I’m trying to find the right one.”

The broad smirk that shifted his scarring tissue made you shift uncomfortably. “Suppressants are useless if your heat is too strong. That shit was bad. The smell is ridiculous. You clearly ain't doing somethin' right if it’s always that potent.”

You shivered at the mention of your scent. It was always what they mentioned—the alphas. They always raved about your scent: like sweet candy, some said. Most often, vanilla. The sniff of it on your very nose was nauseating after so long: an inescapable quality that put you in the crosshairs of nearly every alpha you’d met, made you frightfully easy prey to their predator.

“I’ve...” Shit, should you be sharing this with him? Normally you did, with most alphas you were acquainted with. Especially those you trusted. But you didn’t trust him. You barely knew him. “I’ve never... been rutted properly. So, they’re stronger. The heats.”

“Never been rutted through a heat?” he asked, scoffing. “Sounds miserable. You’re all backed up, aren��t ya? That’s why you struggle with your scent so much.”

You were quiet. You met his interrogation more confidently than you previously thought possible, given how successfully he’d intimidated you up until now. But your fear was draining away slowly, giving way to some sense of adeptness.

Memories of his scent had haunted your every bodily cell since the moment you’d first experienced it. Although facing it again now was overwhelming, you’d steeled yourself since then.

It would be okay, you reminded yourself. Conferring with allied alphas was only a necessary tack if you were going to keep the peace.

“I have, obviously,” you answered. “I’ve been rutted through a heat. But, it’s not the same if it’s not with… well—”

“An alpha?” he finished, and couldn’t help the surprise on his face. “You’ve never been with an alpha in your heat?”

You shook your head. And then there it was, the returning frailty so thick that it seized the room. Why were you so humiliated to speak your truths? They were truths, after all, under his harsh gaze or not.

“…I’ve never been with an alpha at all.”

He actually laughed. “Nah. You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Never even fooled around a bit?”

“No."

A wry, callous grin stretched his staples. He tilted his head and hummed curiously. “You afraid? Of alphas?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Omegas are normally dyin’ to get laid when they’re in heat. Especially when they’re surrounded by alphas they actually know, like you are. Would be one thing if you were locking yourself up to hide from strangers, but you’re not. Gross as that hand-guy is, he seems like he’d rut for ya."

“I just don’t... want it.”

“Nah. You’re scared. I can tell. Should’ve seen that look on your face the other day, damn near terrified—like I was gonna jump on you any second.”

You bristled with agitation, frustration invited back in full bloom now that your confidence was weakened. “Sorry if I don’t trust you,” you returned with grim sarcasm. “You’re not very… decent, to put it plainly.”

“Decent? Nah, I’m not. Alphas aren’t supposed to be. But that’s why you’re all nervous, right?”

“I don’t…” You shook your head, thoughts tripping over one another. “My quirk makes it difficult,” you admitted, and bit your tongue shortly afterwards.

”Your quirk?”

You swore it was his pheromones making you talk, clouding your judgment and wringing admissions from you. “Alphas and omegas dealing with ruts or heats… it compromises their quirks sometimes, I’m sure you know. Makes them uncontrollable and disorderly. I don’t want that to happen to me. Heats are bad enough on their own. Actually getting rutted through one…” You shrugged, vulnerable to be sharing your fears. “I don’t know. I heard it can go wrong. It would be too much.”

“Oh.” He snickered. “Afraid you’re gonna get too horny and flip out or something?”

Heat primed your cheeks in a blush. “No. I mean… In a way. But, thats not what I really meant–”

“So you just run away whenever you’re in heat? ‘Cause you don’t know how to handle it? That’s sad. Bet you wouldn’t be such a stuck up mess if you just let someone rut you through it, at least once. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Forget suppressants. Not just that,” he snickered, and smirked slyly, “it’s awfully unfair of you to be such a prude when you’ve got a bunch of alphas around."

You shivered, not simply noticing, but feeling his eyes pore over you. “They’re not interested.”

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but omegas are made for us to fuck and breed.”

“No,” you said, almost indignantly, “they aren’t.” To be reduced to something so primitive and incidental put anger in your veins. It was a sore, but inevitable topic you were unfortunate to suffer so often.

“Yeah. They are. Don’t know how that hand-creep hasn’t tried to jump your bones yet. I sure as shit would have, by now.”

Then, considering his words, he made a curious frown. “Unless you hide to keep away from that guy.” As he thought of these depraved illustrations in his head, put pieces of his own mused puzzle together, the grim smile returned. “Yeah. I can see that. Putting your own sanity on the line because you don’t wanna provoke your boss. You’d rather scurry off than deal with that guy. You really are scared of alphas, huh?”

“No,” you spat. “Tomura is…“ God, you hated this, hated how his smell was driving you crazy, making you pliant. “Tomura doesn’t need distractions. He’s not very… well-equipped to handle these sort of things.”

You wouldn’t mention how the visual of Tomura’s hands gripping you with alpha-driven need, unwittingly cursing your skin with his quirk, obliging your flesh to break away under his clutches and slowly split you open was a terror that kept you awake some nights.

“I stay out of the way for both our sakes,” you said, shaking the fearsome thoughts away. “Everything works out fine the way it is. We want it this way. We know how to focus on our mission and that only."

He shrugged, unconvinced. “Sure, gotta keep the peace or whatever. Don’t wanna turn the League into a rut fest. Puttin’ the greater good over their alpha needs, over what’s in their pants."

You frowned at him, displeased with the vulgarity.

He snickered to see it. “Commendable of them and all that. But…” He pushed from the wall he’d leaned against and came towards you. You inched away, heart beating fast at the sudden approach. “I’m a little more radical about this stuff, I guess you could say. I think you’d be much more useful if you weren’t so pent up.”

When he crouched down in front of you, you backed into the wall that you sat against, but there was no room for escape. He wasn’t smiling now, only perusing you with expressionless intensity. You tried to suppress a shiver when his eyes rolled down your body.

“Never really been all that concerned with this sort of stuff, not gonna lie. I’ll rut when I need to. Otherwise shit starts getting complicated and I can’t think straight.” He shrugged. “But in case you haven’t noticed, my body ain’t all that suited for frantic ruts. I try to take it easy, if possible. But… I always thought it was a little dumb that we’re engineered to think with what’s between our legs, most of the time.”

And so saying, his warm had slid between your partially opened thighs, which shivered at his touch and clamped together quickly to deny him.

But he wasn’t deterred, and shoved against the resistance, slipping the invading hand under your skirt.

“Stop,” you demanded, breath automating into nervous pants. In sudden fear of being happened upon by the others, you glanced around feverishly, your feet shuffling on the ground to push you back against the wall.

“Stop, now.” Your hands were on his arm, trying to push him away. “Dabi,” you insisted, trying to sound firm. But it did little to deter him.

“See? Bet if you weren’t so damn skittish you’d be putting up a real fight.” His hand finally broke through the tight resistance of your thighs, and his fingers pressed against your underwear. They were damp to the touch.

He laughed, and stroked over the wetness with his knuckle, making you keen and try to pull away.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, looking down between your trembling thighs. “Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessin’ this is because of me?”

He took the wet fabric between his two fingers and rubbed together. “And what’d I do for you to get like this? You’re not even in heat. And I’ve barely got a scent on me right now. We’re just talking, ______. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

At the sound of your name coming from his mouth, gravelly and low, you shuddered, and put an arm over your mouth to keep in a stammering moan. But his other hand came and pulled the limb away.

“Please,” you stuttered out. “Stop.”

“Am I the first alpha who’s touched you like this?” he asked, ignoring your plea.

Your thighs tightened around him again, and one of your hands went to his collar, squeezing into it in meager resistance.

That too he ignored, and looked at you with plain impatience. “Am I?”

You whimpered and nodded, unable to form words when your lips were stuck harshly bitten between your teeth.

“Yeah, thought so.”

Then his thumb worked its cruel intentions and circled your clit. The pathetic gasp he received in turn made him chuckle.

“Nah. See, this isn’t supposed to happen.” His thumb pressed harder and your head knocked back against the wall. “I’ve seen some pretty slutty omegas, but this is plain stupid.”

“I’m—” You practically hiccuped through a whine, and squeezed your eyes shut, your quirk threatening to reveal itself, answering the calls of your panic and ready to defend against his assault. “I’m not a slut—”

He brushed up on your clit hard and you whimpered, defense all but surmounted.

“Okay, fine. You’re not a slut. You’re just damn sensitive because you’ve never given your body what it needs.” He grinned his wicked grin. “An alpha.”

You shook your head. “No—”

“Yes.”

You shook it vigorously now, and your hands came back to life, pushing at him. “No.”

“Yes, _____,” he breathed, laughing. “I thought you were supposed to be smart. Alpha, omega, whatever—those instincts make your brain all mushy if you don’t get it under control. You’ve got some dissonance going on in your head. You’re really letting yourself go because of it. You wanna be a good ally for your boss, but you can’t, because you’re too scared to—"

“I’m not,” you insisted, eyes wrenching themselves open to look at him. He was amused, depravedly amused, but still remarkably composed for how ruthlessly he was teasing you. “I just don’t want it–”

He snorted loudly, and you were sure the sound would echo and bring someone upon the spectacle. “You don’t want it? Seriously? Now you’re just in denial.”

His fingers coiled around your panties and shoved against your bare skin; your pussy was wet and warm to the touch.

“I can smell your slick, holy fuck,” he muttered. For the first time, though everything up until this point had been cruelly entertaining but not entirely stimulating, he felt his cock twitch, and his mouth water. He hummed. “Bet you taste like vanilla, too, don’t you?”

“St-stop,” you stuttered, face going hot with embarrassment, hiding it against your shoulder as if it would help mitigate the fluster.

He let go of the arm he’d been restraining, put a hand on your knee, and tried to push your legs open. He was surprised when met with resistance; you kept your thighs locked together like a vice, making it substantially more difficult to move his fingers on your clit the way he wanted.

He scoffed.

“Open your legs,” he demanded of you, and felt your body twitch at the command.

He looked at you, and was pleased to find you staring back, wide-eyed and jolted. His blue eyes narrowed autocratically.

He spoke his command slower, but with more authority, “Open them. Now."

And when you did, he let out a breathy laugh of satisfaction, and admired the mess of wetness between your thighs. “See? See how easy that was?”

One hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh—shit, the skin was practically begging for his teeth to sink in, to make you bleed, to mark you—while the occupied continued its ministrations, fingers jerking quickly over your pink clit.

"What if I were some enemy tryin’ to get some information out of you, huh? You’d probably spill everything about the League to another alpha the second he gave your pussy any attention. Shit,” he laughed, head cocking curiously as he played with the folds of your cunt, “I’m just teasin' you a little and you’re already dripping, for one. For two, following my every command like a good little whore.”

You shook your head, wordless in your denial. You thought you could taste blood in your mouth from your own lips, teeth digging in harshly to give your body any sensation to distract from the burgeoning pleasure. Your nerves were trampling over one another, all of them somehow alight with fire, but numb all the same.

“Imagine what I, or any other alpha, really, could get you to do with a cock inside you. Ever think of that? And if you were in heat?” He scoffed. “Forget it. You’re pretty much a liability at this point. Don’t know why the hell your boss keeps you around. It’s pathetic.”

Bracing both hands on his shoulders, you loosed a strangled moan of frustration, fingers biting into his clothes, pressing against the lean muscle beneath. He didn’t seem to care, too focused on the pink, twitching flesh now turning red from his fingers' abuse. He swiped his pointer and middle across your clit in a dizzying pace, until the tendons in his wrists burned and his knuckles ached. But your scent… fuck, the fucking scent—

He prided himself on his practiced fortitude against alpha instincts; his body, wracked by the toll of his quirk, was vulnerable as it was. Willpower was necessary to stave off the feral hunger that often made him forget his own fragility and indulge the fierceness of ruts and heats. It always ended with loose staples and bloody rivulets along his skin. Self-aware as he was of his own limitations, he so rarely let himself indulge his body’s desires.

But fuck if you weren’t testing him.

You were close, you knew, your body spasming and breath catching in every interval. You panicked, tried to fight it, but it was as though his fingers had caged your volition somewhere in the back of your mind, and instead propagated all senses to pleasure.

“Fucking tease,” he muttered under his breath, but you barely heard him above the frenzied din in your brain.

Just as you felt something in you stirring irrevocably, both his hands left you, and he stood to his feet.

You nearly toppled over, and spilt over yourself awkwardly to try and catch yourself on the ground. The wet slide between your thighs was horribly palpable, and horribly embarrassing.

You panted as you gathered yourself, looking up at him in flustered awe as you shut your thighs and protectively shoved your skirt back into place.

He was admiring his fingers, the wetness coating them, and when he noticed your gaze, waved them at you teasingly. “See this?”

So wet, you thought, humiliated, as a sticky strand started to spill from his finger. You shivered, your face sweltering and flushed.

“This is your body’s way of telling you that it’s beggin’ to be filled.”

You shuddered, and held yourself miserably, trying to fight the unsatisfied heat in your veins with calming breaths. “You’re horrible,” you whispered, your mouth dry.

“Nah. I’m being a nice guy. The only smart one around here, too, looks like.”

He licked at his fingers, a shudder going down his spine when he tasted the sweetness. It was unreal. “This is ridiculous. You wouldn’t have to worry so much about scurrying away from alphas if your smell wasn’t so strong. If you’re heat wasn’t so strong. And none of it would be, if you just did what you were made to do. You’re repressed. Backed up as hell—”

“I wasn’t made to do anything,” you argued, frustration returning.

“You can keep sayin’ it, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, honestly. Got everyone jumpin’ through hoops for you because you’re so damn sensitive. I ain’t gonna do that.”

You sat there in a heap, fidgeting uncomfortably and fighting for any sense of self-determination you could. He’d said his scent was scant, but you swore it was filling the room, pulping your thoughts and dizzying your nauseous head.

“Clearly you’ve been stuck with some pretty underwhelming alphas until now,” he said. “So I’m gonna do you a favor. Next time you’re in heat, find me, and I’ll do something about it.”

He wiped his dirtied fingers on his shirt, then left you there.

⤰

A month later, Dabi got a call.

“What?” he answered curtly, thinking it was Shigaraki from a burner number. The boss did that sometimes, despite there being little need for throwaways. It was theatrical and annoying.

“It’s me.”

After a pause of non-recognition, you sighed, “It’s ______.”

“Oh?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

In the alley, Dabi admired the burning body he’d just finished off, the corpse kindling his blue flames nicely as it crumbled to ash.

He laughed lowly. “Yeah. Been about a month, hasn’t it. You had some time to think sweetheart?”

From the other end, you bit your lip. “I have rules.”

Something seeped into his blood and swelled within him. Like a breeze carried from somewhere far off, he got a whiff of your sweet scent, just a ghost of it, and licked his lips.

“Seems a little over the top,” he said. “But I’m listening.”

There was a sound in the alley behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder.

You took a deep breath on the other end, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll be at a different place tonight. Another safehouse, down by the docks. The first rule is that when you get here, you have to—”

Dabi heard the cocking of a gun. The disdainful comrade of the dead, scorched man had the weapon raised and trained on him, spouting some threatening nonsense of vengeance. The flame-wielder huffed in annoyance.

“Can’t really talk right now,” he spoke into the receiver, his hands brightening with his quirk. “I’ll find the place. Better not get cold feet.”

“Dabi—”

But he hung up before you could say more.

⤰

You waited for the better half of the evening shot to pieces with doubt.

You’d gone over the situation a dozen times, and twice that number decided the uncontrollable confusions weren’t worth second-guessing; dictating right and wrong left you light-headed when your body was already a frenzied playground of sensation thanks to your heat.

You started to text him the address when midnight rolled around, just in case he’d gotten lost—then thought better of it. The uncertain doublet came again: You couldn’t do this. It was dangerous. You hadn’t witnessed Dabi’s brutality firsthand, but the hearsay was worrisome enough. He would break you. It would end horribly. Your quirk, or even his, would lash out—

Then the other half of the fretful analysis: Yes. You could do this. It was natural. It was true what he’d said, about you neglecting your body’s desires, and in turn leaving room only for self-sabotage. The thought of him drove you wild with uncertainty, but so did the notion of not doing this; your body was raging at the absence of touch. One which he was apparently willing to give.

Finally you called him, nerves scattered and patience thinned, deciding that whatever he had to say to you on the other line would determine whether or not you should carry on with your plans.

Almost as soon as you heard the ringing from the other line, so too did a chirpy noise come from right outside the safehouse door: a phone.

You blanched. Before you could make toward the door, the metal lever twisted with a creak and opened. He was there on the other side with his phone in hand, and lifted it teasingly when his eyes found you in the dim room.

“If you’re callin’ to give me directions, waste of time,” he said as he slunk inside. “I can smell you across the damn street.”

You shivered, smelling him, too: he radiated a warm scent, then that icy undertone which always perplexed you in the most enticing way.

He shut the door behind him, locked it, and inspected you. He huffed in amusement to see how nervous you were.

“You said you had some rules,” he started, coming towards you. Your heart started skipping. “Sounds like a lot of bullshit, so I wasn’t gonna remind you. But I guess if it’ll stop you from chickening out halfway…”

His hands were on you in an instant, at your sides, squeezing and kneading the flesh underneath your shirt. You froze. The dumbfounded look on your face had him smirking.

“Not that you’ll be able to once I get started,” he went on. “Or even want to. Probably gonna forget you even had rules once I stick it in you.”

The hands went down, gripped your ass, and brought your bodies together. You braced yourself against his forearms, stuttering when he wasted no time and pressed his face into your jaw, licking, kissing, teasing you with teeth.

Your eyes fluttered closed, mouth hanging open as he traveled down. At his touch, your mind slowed to blind submission. The excitement was stroking a fire in you that you hadn’t even known was there.

Fuck, it was too much. Already, too much.

“You gonna tell me?” he asked between kisses. "Or you already forgot?”

As he moved to your neck, he inhaled sharply through his nose. The sweet scent stirred a frenzy in his gut.

“Fuck.” The hands at your ass squeezed so hard that you gasped. “Goddamn girl,” he laughed breathily, grinding against you. “That shit’s good.”

“I—" You choked on your next words when he spread your thighs apart from behind, fingers curling under your skirt to feel for your panties. “The rules, I—”

“You better spit it out,” he warned, coming up to look at you, eyes fixed with hunger. “I’m not a patient guy. I’m really gonna pounce on you in a second if you don’t get on with it.”

It struck apprehension into you. You breathed out the words hurriedly, “Don’t mate me. Don’t give me a mating mark—”

He laughed in your face, making you blush, then went back to kissing at your neck.

“Didn’t plan on it. Don’t want a mate. Probably never will.” He kissed hard at your neck, breathed in your scent again with a hum. “Besides, even if I did, you’re not bad looking and I know your cunt’s gonna be nice and tight, but you’re not worth mating. You’re high-strung. It’s annoying.”

You bristled with anger, but his warmth was making every other sense dull to you. When his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder, you were wrangled back to focus.

“No marks,” you warned, just as his teeth sank in, and nudged away gently to dissuade him. “Don’t leave any. Kurogiri and Tomura can’t see–”

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he replied harshly, coming up to look at you. “Who cares? They were dumb enough to leave you unmated and practically dyin’ for a fuck, so forget them. I’m doing you a favor here, remember that. You can have some rules, but I’m doing whatever the hell I need to do.”

His fingers rubbed hard at your panties; they were wet to the touch. "Not like you’re gonna run out now. You’re fucking soaked.” With a pleased growl he went to your neck again, biting hard.

You squealed, but before he could start sucking at the skin, you reeled back and moved away from him. You pushed at his forehead with a hand, and he smacked it away.

“Then no,” you sighed out shakily once you’d gotten his attention. "We’re done here.”

You spoke it with such confidence that it actually earned you his consideration. He stared at you, half-impressed, but mostly, furious.

“If you can’t listen to me,” you muttered, braving his piercing eyes willingly, "then… then fuck off.”

He was scowling at you now, and without warning his fingers pinched your clit.

You gasped sharply and raggedly at the feeling, melting into his touch with weak legs. He had to hold you upright to prevent you from collapsing, and against your ear, he huffed angrily.

“That’s what I fucking thought, stupid slut.”

He shoved you down onto the mattress at your feet.

You were too dizzy to make a protest when he climbed over you, and had no voice on which to loose it when he ripped—literally ripped—your shirt apart and attacked your chest with harsh bites and licks. Your nipples got the worst of it: he went for them with a growl in his throat, claiming the peaks between his teeth, biting down so hard you squealed and kicked.

“You really don’t have a goddamn clue how this works, do you?” he was breathing out harshly. “What an alpha does to an omega?” He looked up at you. Your eyes were watery and trembling as they gawked down at him. “What I can do to you?”

His lips went down, and he shoved your skirt off of your legs, the panties going too. You had enough sense in you to shut your thighs, which made him scoff, and yank them apart painfully.

“Don’t you fuckin’ try it. This is mine right now. You and your little cunt, mine. Like it’s supposed to be.”

He knew even as the words came from his mouth like venom, that your scent, coupled with his long-unreleased pheromones, were pushing him to a point of brutality. He’d never been so prone to complete and utter dominance like this. And now looking between your thighs at the pink, swollen, shaven pussy twitching for him, he knew there was no chance you’d be getting any mercy.

“Look at this shit,” he muttered, dropping to his knees, and as a protest died on your lips, his own pressed against your wetness, breathing in your scent as he did, growling loud and wildly in his throat.

His hands went to your thighs and pulled, bringing you closer against him, ignoring the fingers in his hair that feebly tugged. A shaky whimper came on every one of your breaths, your mouth sputtering through frail pleas he didn’t understand and didn’t bother trying to.

He indulged one harsh, long, angry suck on your clit, and released with a wet smack. You cried, actually cried when he went back in and dug his tongue harshly against you.

“Dabi, Dabi—no, please–”

Your scent made him light-headed, made him forget for a split second where he was, made him forget the constant and residual pain from his quirk, the itch of his staples—made him forget it all.

You came on his tongue without warning, a loud screech dying in your throat as you arched off the mattress. He was too shocked to lick up the sweet cum that received him. His eyes shot open and he looked up at you; you were an absolute wreck: flushed, sweating, shaking, and seized with pleasure.

He tried to count in his head. How long had it been? A minute? Barely? Fucking ridiculous.

He sucked and sucked until you were writhing. He wanted to punish you, wanted you to see how fucking weak you were, how badly you needed this.

“Dabi—” you sobbed out, tears itching your eyes and rushing down your face.

He pulled off finally with a loud breath, smacking his lips, then went back down to lick up your pussy one more time to clean you with his tongue. You jerked and twisted miserably. Then he was climbing over you again, forcing you to face him.

“You see?” he panted. "See what I just did to you? See how fuckin’ quick you were to cum for me? That’s what you’ve been missing. You’re not in the position to be making demands or rules here, _____. This is what you deserve. This is what you need. You need an alpha, you need me, you need this—”

He took your hand and forced it to rub between his legs. You stuttered a pitiful breath when you felt the bulge there, so hot, so inhumanly hot, waiting for you. Under your touch it twitched, greedy to be inside you.

You shook your head, unable to keep your eyes open; the blinding pleasure made a transit to numbing warmth, and your lids were heavy with drowsiness.

Your lip trembled. “Please, I need a minute, please—"

“No. Fuck no.”

He shred his clothes quickly, pulling his jacket off, kicking his shoes off, clawing at his belt and throwing that off too—but getting no further than shoving his pants down his hips so his eager cock could spring free. He didn’t have the time for anything else. He didn’t have the fucking time.

“I was gonna go easy on you,” he muttered. "Just a little."

Manhandling you to a spread position beneath him, he was almost ready to shove into you—then he had an exhilarating idea, and flipped you over, slapping your ass hard and making you yell in surprise. He wanted to take you like this: dominating, and utterly primal.

He forced your hips up, ass out, pussy spreading for him. He took his cock, flicked the head mercilessly against your clit until you were keening. A firm hand on your hip prevented you from squirming away.

“Please,” you sobbed again, gasping, body trembling. The heat. The heat. It was too much. Your skin crawled with euphoric pinpricks of fire. You needed it. You needed it. “Please, Dabi—”

“Please what?” he snapped, fire in his veins, vanilla flooding his head. “There’s no way in hell you want me to stop, so you’re beggin’ me for more. Use your words then. Say it.”

Your shook your head, mouth dry and gaping. “I can’t—”

He smacked your ass again and you jolted, unable to stop from curling into yourself as you orgasmed; the scent of your slick invaded his nose and he realized what you’d done. A dangerous, slow, ragged laugh bubbled from his throat.

“My god you’re so fucking pathetic. Look at that.” He kneaded his hand hard into your ass, pulling and stretching the skin, keeping your pussy fleshed out for him. “Look at this shit. It’s dripping. I want you to admit how pathetic you are.” He started to jerk himself hard, precum spilling over his fingers in messy streams. “Say it.”

You shook your head, pressing it hard into the mattress below. His hand went for your hair, yanked it backwards, and a tight yell tore out of your throat.

“Say it right now or you’re not getting my dick. I can shove it in your throat and get off just fine.” Oh, but how fucking badly he needed to put it in your cunt... “Say it. Say you’re pathetic, and that you need an alpha cock. Say it.”

“Dabi, please—“ Your hips arched upwards, begging, completely overrun with need. He shoved you back down, dismantling your sanity with every second went without feeling him inside of you.

“Say it now or I swear I’m gonna leave you here, _____.” He yanked your hair tighter, his hand flying on his cock. Everything felt so good. Too good. Too fucking hazy. “I’m gonna use your mouth or these tits to get off, and then I’m gonna leave you here, dripping and fucking pathetic and alone. Alone in your heat like you always are, you stupid whore.”

The thought made you whimper despairingly; in turn, he groaned loudly as he worked precum out in rapid strokes.

“Say it. Now. Now.”

“I’m—” Needy sobs wracked your voice, your hands clutching the mattress. “I’m a—I’m pathetic, I’m pathetic—”

“Fuck,“ he moaned loud and heavy, pinching the base of his cock to hold off release, then going back to stroking again, unable to go without stimulus. “What else? What else, _____?”

“I’m pathetic and I need your cock!” you cried out, too desperate for pride, too desperate for anything else. “I need an alpha cock, I need it—Dabi, damn it, please!—”

You practically screamed when he rammed into you, a loud shout tensing out of him as he let go of your hair. He put both hands at your hips to hold you in place for his violent thrusts.

Your mouth was open in vacant stupor, eyes rolling, feeling another orgasm ripping through you almost instantaneously.

“Fuck… fuck,” he breathed, feeling you tighten around him. He growled angrily, biting his lip until the burnt, abused skin swelled and bled. “You fucking—fuck—” Your slickness was in such abundance that little specks flew with every one of his thrusts, making his cock spear in and out perfectly and without restraint.

Every muscle in his body screamed for release, so soon, so quickly. His balls ached for it, spittle flew from his mouth with every ragged breath he took. Your back arched so nicely underneath him. You were such a perfect fucking omega he almost couldn’t stand it.

He shut his eyes tight, hand going to fist back into your hair and wrench upwards. You didn’t protest, didn’t even let a sound leave your throat despite the pain it brought. It didn’t take away the pleasure; nothing could. Nothing could ever take this away: the stretch of his thick, long cock pounding into you, hitting that spot over and over again until you came once more, then twice, then a third time.

He was breathing so raggedly that it branched pain into his lungs; his fingers dug into your hip so harshly that blood spilled from beneath his nails.

“Fuck,” he breathed, almost like a whisper: an angry, desperate, hissing whisper. “Oh fuck, _____...”

Everything was too much: your scent, the sight of you, your perfect cunt gripping mercilessly with every thrust. He bent forward, stuttering his hips into you as his orgasm approached. Copper met his tongue when he bit harshly into your back.

Beyond his control, his quirk joined the fray of pleasure, blue flame flickering faintly along his palms and burning you. But fuck, it didn’t matter. Nothing fucking mattered but the wet slap of his hips ramming into you, the painful bite of his belt at your thighs, his teeth at your back, sharp alpha canines digging in.

He felt the flames on his face rising; along his jaw, in his hair, they had a mind of their own. He had the sense, just a sliver of it, to back away from you, saving you from the heat that licked parts of his face, even as his hand burned char into your hip.

His rhythm was going; he was close. It hurt. It fucking hurt. He needed to let go. Needed to give you his cum. Needed to pump it in your eager little omega cunt.

“I’m—shit,” he choked, swallowing the dryness in his mouth and moaning long and low. “Tell me you want it baby girl,” he panted. “Tell me you want this cum. Tell me.”

“I—” You coughed miserably, body beyond your muscles’ command. “I want it—”

“What? What do you want? Say it, sweetheart—fuck, tell me—Tell me you want my cum and I’ll fucking give it to you—” You squeezed him tight, too tight, and he keeled over with a grunt. "You feel so damn good. Fuck I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fill this tight pussy come on, come on—”

“I want your cum!” you sobbed, tightening around him as if on instinct. He grabbed your hips with both hands, fucked into you primally now, an angry, seething growl in his throat that was far from human.

Flames on his back, on his arms, on his neck. The skin where his hands held you steamed and you moaned in agony, or maybe pleasure—maybe both. He didn’t care. Neither did you.

“Fuck!” he shouted, just as his hips stuttered and fire shot up his spine. He threw his head back, tendons on his neck flaring, arms and legs shaking as he came inside. “Fucking shit—”

He panted for air, felt staples pulling in places all over him, felt his balls burning with pleasure and heard your mangled cry as he gave you what your body needed, what it had always fucking needed.

He didn’t stop fucking into you until his body couldn’t physically answer his brutal needs, and he bent over you, one last and hard thrust sending you flat against the mattress. His searing body pressed flush against you, met your nipped skin in an overwhelming contrast and forced a whimper from your throat.

He bit into you wherever his mouth could reach, claimed you in any way he could without irrevocably mating you. Lost in the heat of it all, in the pleasure that burned up his spine and gave him vertigo, he wanted nothing else but you: to dominate you, make you submissive, fucking own you until you knew nothing else but him and his cock and his seed inside you—but he couldn’t mate you. Wouldn’t.

Maybe not yet.

His flames subsided on their own, leaving smoke to rise all over his skin like overworked geysers; a steaming form on top of yours. The pungency of the expelled fumes would have surely made you nauseous any other time, but your senses were dulled to discomforts and pains alike.

You panted heavily beneath him, quivering under his weight. He lay his head against your back and breathed.

Wanting to push himself upright he twisted a hand into the cushion next to your head, tried to work himself up, but unable to with the debility of his worn muscles.

“Goddamnit,” he rasped, then, forcing strength into his limp limbs, pushed up on a shaky arm and righted himself dizzily. He had to close his eyes, reclaim his vision from the black spots encompassing it, then blinked the room back into focus.

You made some mousy noise beneath him. Then you squirmed, tightening around his oversensitive dick and making him grunt.

He pulled out of you carefully, slowly, every inch dissuaded by the tight squeeze. Wetness made a sleek mess of it all, slick streaks down to your knees, on his own skin, too; splattered against his pelvis, dripping down his balls and his thighs. He shivered. All of this, all of this mess for him, because of him.

His seed spilled out of you when his cockhead, red and twitching, released itself. His cum was hotter than what should have been normal. As it dripped down your thighs it felt like a simmering stream.

The mess, primal though flattering as it was, was quickly something of an agitation on his sweltering skin, and he wanted to be rid of it. A hand was at your back to steady himself, and he pushed at it again to keep his balance—that was when he noticed the full scope of the burns he’d left on you. The burns, the bruises, the blood. He looked upon the violence he’d done with careful regard. He knew from a simple glance, and from experience, that the burns were so severe they would be beyond full healing. You’d have them there forever. A token of his brutality, of his lust.

He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh to steady himself.

“Oi.”

He pushed at you, and your limp body moved jointlessly beneath him. He wet his mouth to alleviate some of the dryness. His heart raced and his ears felt stuffed by warmth.

“Oi, you bring a towel? Something to wipe this mess up?” Your cum on his skin was cooling uncomfortably. “Oi.” He shook you a little harder when you kept to your silence, and a quiet whine answered him. “C'mon.”

There was a tiny movement: you attempting to push on your arms. But they were utterly useless to the command of your body. A raspy sound came from your throat, like you were trying to speak in murmurs.

He leaned in. “What?”

You tried again, to little betterment. He tsked, impatience entering his body again despite how languid it felt, and smacked your ass lightly, making you jump.

“I can’t hear you dummy, speak up."

You gave up, and trying to muster what little forte you could, moved a shaking arm and pointed to a bag off to your left. He understood, reached for it, his muscles screaming at him in ache, and set about cleaning himself with a towel he found inside.

He thought better of doing the same for you, but was again drawn to the wounds he’d left on you. Provoking an alpha-like possessiveness in him as they did, they were unsightly, and some far away part of him regretted what he’d done. He cleaned you carefully, in the smallest form of apology he was capable of evoking.

When the rough towel wiped over your sensitive clit you shivered miserably, and he huffed a quiet, weak laugh, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Such an omega.”

He tugged his pants back up his waist and sunk down into the mattress at your side. He’d mastered his breathing again, though there was a heat in his lungs, like smoke, which made every breath feel powerful and choking. The smoke had all but gone from his skin, however, extinguished by his mind returning to lucidness.

But there was still a trace of the ferocious alpha in him there, his legs and depleted cock twitching when he breathed in and smelled you, a warmer vanilla now: something changed and unpure now that you’d been rutted. And he knew, possessively, with a shot of primal instinct going down his spine and making fire roll through him, that he’d forever changed you.

He looked over at you, realizing for the first time that you’d been completely inanimate. You barely looked to be breathing; your inhales came in irregular, heavy intervals, as if each breath taken succeeded a reminder that you were still alive, awake.

He knew it was the adrenaline still rushing in his veins that made him do it, but he reached out, pushed at your head gently so you would look his way, and brushed the matted hair from your face.

Your skin was flushed with sweat. A damp spot in the mattress must have been tears, and probably drool. It wasn’t particularly nice to look at, but it stirred something in him nevertheless. You were a mess. An utter mess. His mess.

Your eyes were closed, pupils fluttering beneath the lids like shaking leaves.

“Open your eyes,” he said, for no particular reason.

But they shut tight at the command, and your breathing picked up, as if you were debating between obeying or not.

“Open them,” he told you again, no firmer, but apparently, it was persuasive all the same. Tears slipped from your ducts when you complied, eyes shining and trembling.

He ignored the part of him that ached to fall into his greedy impulses again. It was alluring. Not just because you were an omega, but because you were you. And he’d fucked you. He’d taken you. He was your first alpha.

Without further instruction to do otherwise, your eyes started to close again, and the hand that still held your hair from your forehead tugged lightly, entreating your eyes to stay trained on him.

“Nuh uh, wake up. Talk to me a little, before you pass out.”

You hummed groggily in response, your mouth open but too dry to form around words. You sealed your lips together, swallowed the dryness.

“Can’t move,” you managed raspily, staring at him, looking exhaustedly vulnerable and knowing you did, too.

He watched you, debating leniency, and decided he’d give you some, just for good measure.

You made an uncomfortable whine when he took your forearm and dragged you to him. He didn’t try to hold you, or keep you against him. Instead when you curled into your little ball against his side, moaning as you did at having to stretch your body’s abused muscles, he let you. What he didn’t deny of intimacy, however, was the arm he draped over you leisurely, just to feel you as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

His thumb brushed over the flesh of your hip, and felt the corrugated, slowly cooling flesh there. The sensation made him grimace. It was so like the gnarly, repulsive texture of his own skin. Not as severe by a long shot, but nevertheless, unpleasant to the touch.

“Hurt?” he asked.

You blinked lazily, his voice sounding like a waning echo to your numb ears. “What...?”

“Your hips. Look at them.”

You forced your eyes open; they rolled themselves into nausea when you shifted to look. When you noticed the pinkish, creased wound on your burned skin, you froze, then started to shiver in your dismay.

“You… I…” Your unsteady hand moved, a finger traced over the rough, still raw skin. Clearly, the pain was lost on you, lust granted. But the sight had your stomach twisting, its emptiness sloshing uncomfortably at the sight of your own damaged flesh; you could even smell it, strong and sickening like cooking meat.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did,” he muttered, selfishly flippant. “And you’re lucky I did it there.”

You took a shaky breath, and shut your eyes, resigned to your body’s lethargy. “Asshole.”

He humphed. “It’ll heal,” he lied. “I’ve had worse, clearly. Done worse, too. It won't get infected.”

You were quiet afterwards, volitionally so, barely keeping your hostility in check. He was more than aware of your chagrin, and didn’t particularly care. If you started feeling it later, he’d go get you meds for the pain. But he’d known omegas to be particularly resilient in their heats. There was very little that registered above the natural pleasure of being filled by an alpha.

“I’m…”

He glanced down at you, saw your mouth opening and closing in determined hesitation.

“I’m not a whore,” you managed croakily, and irritably.

He started laughing. “You gonna hold that against me?”

“I’m not a whore.” You scowled, resentful of his carefree ribbing. “And I’m not”—you sputtered, breathing hard through a phlegm-choked cough–“a slut.”

His laugh subsided into a low chuckle in his chest. You didn’t see the wry grin on his face, but heard it.

He shrugged. “I say shit when I’m high on fucking. Don’t take it so personally.” But he couldn’t stop now that the warmth of craftiness was twisting in him. “Besides…” The arm draped over you shifted, found your ass, and gave a generous squeeze. You whimpered in objection. “You basically are my whore, now.”

You shivered with frustration. Despite the wild—incredibly wild and earth-shattering sex, you were conceiving a poorer and poorer image of him the more he gloated. With renewed strength, you rose on your arm and pushed his hand off.

“I’m not,” you insisted testily.

“I get you don’t know how this shit works,” he started, “so guess I’ll explain it to you.”

There it was again: the possessive, ravenous wildfire in his veins that coaxed his arm to reclaim its spot at your back, bring you closer to him. Adjusting his position, he let your head rest on his stomach; your legs curled comfortably around his own for comfort. He watched your head rise and fall as he breathed steadily.

“May not have mated you,” he went on, anticipating your griping, "but I’m your alpha now.”

You tensed at the declaration, he noticed, but no more than that.

“And it’s gonna stay that way unless you let some other one take you in a heat, which I don’t see you doing. Unless you’re just so dick hungry after this that you let any guy fuck you.”

One of your feet dug opposedly into his calf and he snickered. “Didn’t think so. To the last part, I mean. Trust me…” His hand smoothed over your ass again, and he smirked when you moaned quietly. “You’re gonna be hungry for it.”

“I can’t handle anymore,” you muttered, breath puffing against his stomach. Even those giddy times you’d imagined your first alpha taking you, envisioned a night of passion that would end in ardent nurturing, wrapped under your dominant’s embrace, protected and warm and wanted—you now balked the indulgent, cherished ideal of it. This was not what you had expected. Dabi was not what you had expected.

“I can’t,” you started, lacking the confident breath to loose your doubts on. “I don’t even… feel it. It’s gone.”

“You’re still in heat. It’ll pop back up when your body’s ready. I’m hoping you don’t need a biology lesson for this shit, but point of a heat is to get you knocked up. You get that, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he mocked. “And obviously since I’m not tryin’ to make you a mother, I didn’t do that. Your body’s gonna keep beggin’ for it until I give it to you, and I won’t. So you’ll get your heat back once your junk down there realizes it’s empty and wants to try again, except it’s gonna be a lot crazier this time, since you’ve finally had a taste. Told you that you were only hurting yourself by holding out this long."

You started to follow the logic. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But to hear it fleshed out like this, by the alpha who had taken you, felt somewhat like a hazardous warning.

“I just… “ You shook your head against him. “We did it. You said that would be enough. That it wouldn’t be so bad, now…”

“You thought one fuck would fix it?” he asked, condescension taking an amusing slope in his tone.

You didn’t answer, and he grinned.

“You got a lot to learn, sweetheart. Gotta get you through the whole heat, first. Life would be easy for you omegas if one fuck could take care of your problems.” He hummed. “No, you’re gonna be dyin’ to get bred up until your heat is over. I’m not gonna do that, but I’ll fill you up for a little relief.” Something about his own words made him twitch in anticipation, and he put a hand on your head, pinched a handful of hair gently in his fist. “Until you need it again. And again.”

You heart was beating fast. He felt it against his side. “We don’t have to,” you said.

“Don’t have to what?”

“I’m too tired,” you insisted, feeling your body lag into the mattress. “I won’t want it anymore. I’m done. This will be fine. I don’t need you.”

He laughed with such smugness that your cheeks went hot.

“Now you’re just being dumb… But fine. Think what you want. Give it a couple hours. You’ll be clawing at my dick before morning.” He picked idly at the drying blood under his nails, frowning to see it, but too amused by the prospect of your ignorance to regret his violence anymore. “And now, I’m gonna make you work for it.”

“I won’t. You got what you wanted. And I… you made your point.” You shoved off of his body, pushed away from him scornfully on limbs that were seconds from giving out, and sat yourself upright.

Your spine curled and straightened enticingly as you arched up; he watched with covetous appreciation, then saw the red blood drying on your back. He tried not to put out a spiteful laugh.

Let you find the mess he’d made later, he decided. For now, a more urgent matter was making sure his dick didn’t get too hard before you were ready to go again. But you stretched so nicely like that, reminding him of how your body had dipped so obediently for him when he’d bent you over and fucked you cross-eyed.

“You need to leave,” you said.

Snorting, he went back to picking at his nails. “I’m stayin’ right here. Even if I didn’t still have a job to do, this is a nice bed. Better than the couches at the bar, ya know. Nice little nest you’ve made for yourself."

“Then… I’m leaving.” You tried to stand, and failed, legs sliding out from under you and giving your body back to the mattress beneath.

“No you ain’t,” he snickered. “Even if you could find another place to wait off the heat before it came back again, you’re gonna run back to me.”

“I don’t need you,” you insisted decisively, angrier now.

“Yeah, you do. I’m your alpha now, remember?” He saw your shoulders rise with a heavy, angry breath. “You said it yourself. You’re pathetic, and you need an alpha cock. And right now, that’s mine."

“…Fuck you.”

He cackled patronizingly, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, giving no stock to your anger at all.

Indignation compelled you to your feet, wobbling, a hand going between your thighs to feel the hot throbbing there.

That was when you noticed the blood, and some of the bruises. You shook your head, infuriated with yourself, and with him.

“You’re… sick,” you muttered. “I can’t believe I let you… You’re a sick bastard."

He chuckled dismissively, and stopped himself from reaching out to grab you like he wanted to—that attitude of yours made you really fuckable.

Instead he rested back into the mattress, forcing his hands to keep busy on his nails, on his staples.

“Keep it up sweetheart,” he muttered. "When you’re wet for me again in a few hours, I’m gonna remember you said that."

“Fuck you,” you said again, too disillusioned to think carefully on the foreboding, and found your clothes.

Then, forgetting he’d torn them, you threw the tattered garb at him.

He ignored you, unfazed, flicking the ineffectual shirt off his chest as you rummaged through your bag for a new one.

You pulled it over your head, then, with a final glare of indignant reproval, walked off.

He didn’t bother asking where you were going. He knew you would be back.

#dabi x reader #bnha #dabi shtuff #dabi

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lesbian-lilo · 4 years ago

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Mission Mishaps - Wanda x fem!reader

This is my first ever commission for @g-cordelia! Thank you so much for your support and I hope you enjoy!

You awoke to the harsh shrill of your alarm clock, groaning before rolling out of the warm embrace of your wife to turn it off. Your hopes that it wouldn’t wake her ruined as she mumbled a soft “good morning”, pulling you back into her arms. You turned to face her, heart skipping a beat as you gazed at your wife. After being married for 3 years and together for 5 some people would expect waking up next to her wouldn’t be the same. But every time you woke up with her next to you, you were blown away. Wanda had an ethereal glow cast by the morning sun shining through the crack in the curtains. She was lying on her side, her growing baby bump pressing into your own stomach. Her hair was slightly covering her face, eyes half lidded as she stared at you with nothing but love in her eyes. Wanda was always soft in the mornings, something she reserved for you and your child.

You press a soft kiss to her lips whispering a “good morning my angel” before sliding down the bed to be eye level with Wanda’s belly. “And good morning to you too little one” you say, before leaving a kiss on her stomach. “How are you so perfect?” You glance up at these words, Wanda beaming at you before beckoning you up so she can kiss you again.

An abrupt knock sounds at the door and Natasha’s voice can be heard on the other side. “Wanda, y/n, open up!”. You share a glance at Wanda before you climb out of bed and open the door, inviting Nat in before closing the door behind her. Nat moves to stand beside your bed and exchanges greetings with Wanda as you sit back down next to your wife. Natasha looks between you both with a sigh before focusing her attention on you. “Y/n I know you’ve stepped back from missions since Wanda’s been pregnant, but Fury just told me we are needed on an urgent mission. I’m not sure what it is, he says we will be briefed on the Quinjet. I tried to get him to assign someone else but apparently there is no one else for the job”. Nat gives you a sad look as she finishes speaking. She knows how difficult it was for both yourself and Wanda when you decided to stop going on missions. But you both agreed you couldn’t compromise your wellbeing or the life you were creating. Wanda reached for your hand, slowly running her thumb up and down your palm. “When do we have to go?”. “In about 30 minutes. I’ll go suit up so you both can talk. Y/n see you at the Quinjet”. After saying goodbye to Natasha, you turned to face Wanda, who had a solemn expression on her face. “Promise me you’ll be safe”. “I promise” you whispered before capturing her lips in a kiss. Placing a hand on Wanda’s stomach, you leant down. “That’s a promise to you too little one”. After many kisses and promises you’d return safe, you left to shut up and meet Nat at the Quinjet.

Walking onto the Quinjet, you moved to sit next to Nat in the co-pilot seat, as Fury began briefing you both on the mission. Although you had mostly given up missions for the foreseeable future, a decision you were more than happy with, you couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline and excitement that came with starting one. After Fury left, so did you, sparing one last glance at the Avengers compound before flying off to your destination.

The mission was relatively simple. You and Nat were to infiltrate a Hydra base and get information needed for the other Avengers who were on a separate mission. They couldn’t complete their mission until you had found the information needed.

After landing the Quinjet in a clearing close to the base, you and Natasha began the short walk to the edge of the forest that surrounded the Hydra base. This was your first mission since Wanda became pregnant, something you were extremely aware of. You couldn’t help but to play with your wedding ring attached to the chain around your neck. Normally you would wear it on your finger, but you didn’t want to risk losing it.

“Okay. There’s a ladder off to the left-hand side. I’m going to use that to climb to the roof and then enter through one of the vents. You circle around to the back, there should be a door that’s relatively unguarded. I’ll take out the guards on the roof so you don’t need to worry about that”. You nodded along with Nat’s plan while you mentally psyched yourself up for this mission, reminding yourself that the sooner it’s completed the sooner you can get home to Wanda.

You and Natasha both went your separate ways, you circle around to the back of the base while Nat began to climb the ladder. You stayed near the edge of the forest, waiting for the signal that would tell you the guards had been taken care of and you could enter through the door. After about 10 minutes of waiting, you see Natasha give you the signal before disappearing into a vent. You quickly but quietly make your way to the door, using a key card Nat had thrown down from one of the guards you scan yourself into the building before pocketing it. With guns drawn you sneak down the hallway, making sure to check every corner and doorway. The base was eerily quiet, almost too quiet. You shrugged it off however, not wanting to distract yourself from the mission.

You made your way to the surveillance room, taking out any Hydra agents you happened to come across. After scanning yourself into the room and taking care of the agents present, you began to look through the computers for the necessary information. “Hey Nat, where are you?” After you heard no reply on the comms and due to you jamming the surveillance cameras before you entered, you didn’t have a clue where she was. However, you knew Natasha was an incredible spy and could hold her own. You needed to get the information. You decided you would search the base after sending off the information to Shield if you hadn’t gotten in contact with her via the comms.

After gathering the necessary intel and sending it through to Shield, you began your search of the Hydra base. After turning a few corners, you began to hear the faint sound of fighting, alerting you to Natasha’s location. After running down multiple hallways you finally rounded the corner Natasha was in. There were about 10 Hydra agents all circling Natasha, who was managing to hold the off. You ran up to her and began to help, taking out Hydra agents left and right until you were the only ones standing. “Did you get the intel?” “I did” you replied. “Let’s get you home to Wanda”. You began to make your way back down the hallway, this time with Natasha by your side. As you were stepping over one of the Hydra agents, you failed to realise they were still slightly conscious. All of a sudden you felt a burning sensation on your lower stomach, followed by the sound of a single gunshot echoing through the hallway. You looked down to see a knife lodged into your lower abdomen, and a Hydra agent with a fresh bullet wound in his head courtesy of Natasha, you had moved to your side in an instant. Black dots began to appear on your vision as Natasha helped you back into the Quinjet, immediately laying you down on the stretcher before grabbing the first aid kit from underneath. “Nat” you managed to choke out, blood dribbling from your mouth. “You’re gonna be ok y/n”. “No Nat listen”, you tried again. You could feel yourself beginning to lose consciousness, but you had to tell her something before you did. “Please don’t tell Wanda. Not until I get better”. With that, your vision went blank, and you passed out.

You regained consciousness two days lying in a hospital bed with your wife asleep on a cot next to you. You looked around the room to see Natasha sitting in a chair on the other side of your bed reading a bit. You went to speak but immediately started coughing, alerting Natasha that you had woken up. She immediately got you a cup of water, helping you drink it before sitting back down. “How long has she been here?” You asked, motioning to your wife who still asleep. Natasha sighed, “When we got back, and you were rushed to the hospital ward. I couldn’t keep it from her y/n, especially when you’ve been out for two days”. Wanda began to stir then, your eyes immediately going to her. Nat quietly left the room, wanting to give you both some time together.

When Wanda woke up, she immediately burst into tears. With the stiches in your stomach, you couldn’t move as fast as you would like, however you eventually sat beside her, Wanda immediately throwing her arms around you and burying her face into her neck. It was only then that the reality of what could’ve been set in for you. There was a chance you wouldn’t be the one holding Wanda right now, it instead being Natasha while the mourned your passing. You began to tear up at the thought and held onto Wanda tighter as you whispered you were sorry. After sitting in each other’s embrace for a while, you both eventually parted. Wanda looked deep into your eyes, “My love, why did you ask Nat not to tell me you were hurt?” Straight away you felt guilty. It’s not that you wanted to keep it from her, you never keep anything from her. You just didn’t want her to worry, or to stress either her or the baby out. Wanda immediately realised this; she can read minds after all. Instead of responding however, she brought you into a passionate kiss, one filled with love and hope and desperation. It was in that moment you decided that it didn’t matter if the entire world was ending, you were not leaving Wanda’s side.

Four weeks later….

You woke up soft kisses along your spine and the soft giggles of your wife as you groaned and rolled over. You were still sore but had thankfully gotten your stitches taken out and were healing well. You kissed Wanda good morning before moving down to do the same to her baby bump, whispering a good morning to your child as well. Wanda giggled before sliding down the bed and placing a gentle kiss on the scar that had formed on your stomach. Ever since you had gotten your stitches out, Wanda had kissed your scar almost as much as you kissed her baby bump. It started as a joke however it soon evolved into a loving gesture from the most beautiful woman to grace the Earth. You pulled Wanda to lay on top of you, her head resting in the crook of your neck as you turned on the TV to some random cooking channel. You sighed in content, your hand caressing her baby bump. You truly were the luckiest woman in the world.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandavision #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel #marvel imagine

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aboardthehavocmarauder · 4 years ago

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Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 7]

Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader

Y/N sat alone in a clear field holding her knees close to her chest as she turns to see Obi Wan standing at a distance.

“Will I find something disappointing?”

“Painful”

•

“She can wake up at her own pace. She’ll be safe here. She said it herself. You can still take on hunts if you need to” Reylen reassures adjusting the lines for her IV and monitors so they wouldn’t be in the way. “Y/N always bounces back”

Y/N lays lifeless and pale as her chest slowly rises and falls. Hunter frowns running his index against her cold skin seeing the shift, flooding him with relief.

“We need the credits”

“You’re serious? Leaving her here”

“I trust her” Hunter turns to Reylen before back to his brothers. “And we should trust Y/N. She did lay her life down for us and we did the same. Her payment can be her recovery as we continue for ours.”

“Do you need—-“

“Don’t try to sit out Echo. We need all of us together, and watch each other’s backs so we can return safely” Hunter states stepping out of the room.

——

“You’re trusting me with this?”

“I need one to protect myself. And you have the skills to wield it. Protect yourself and your brothers while I’m out of commission”

“Y/N—“

“I’ll bounce back Hunt. Have faith in the force”

——

Six months later

Reylen stood in the empty field staring at Y/N laying in the grass from afar.

“NER VOD” my sister.

Y/N quickly shot up when the training droids did blocking most shots with the beskar arm bands running toward the forest and using the trees as her running ground getting higher and higher blocking every shot. Before eventually shooting her body out into the open feeling the wind course around her as she flips back feeling the wind in her hair reaching out feeling her lightsaber reach her. Gripping tightly, igniting it fast, she sliced into the tree sliding down before shooting through and cutting three of the training droids using the falling pieces as stepping stones in the air.

“Ke'pare!”

Wait!

As Reylen sprints through meeting Y/N as she stuck the landing quickly but didn’t feel the shot from the still standing training droid. She quickly took out a rag from her utility belt and applied it to Y/N’s upper arm.

“Sorry”

“No. Shit. You don’t have to apologize. I’m surprised you didn’t feel that” Reylen frowns tying it quickly and taking Y/N’s face into her hands. “What’s on your mind, vod?”

“I...”

“Tion'ad hukaat'kama?” Who’s watching your back? Reylen frowns as Y/N removed her hands off her face taking a hold of them in hers. “Y/N?”

“...I’m forgotten. Just like the council. I’ve been erased” Y/N pulls away taking her saber attaching it to her side before stepping into the bunker and seeing what she can do.

Cuy’val Dar

Those who no longer exist

When the night falls on the forest moon of Endor, Y/N held her saber to her chest taking in the night igniting it. She flows with the wind taking in each heated slash in the air to memory feeling a pain build in her chest. As she turns off the glowing gold, another light appears in the distance causing her to stand alert.

“Cyar’ika”

Y/N frowns relaxing when she locked eyes with an injured Hunter. She dropped her guard and quickly ran over taking him into her arms finding all of them hurt behind him.

They were hunted down. Their ship crashed on the moon planet but for obvious reasons, took them a while to find them.

“None of them have major injuries. They should be fine” Reylen reassures as Y/N ran her hand through Hunter’s hair while they were all too tired to keep awake. “They will be fine”

“Six months”

“What?”

“They were without me for six months”

“Y/N. This most likely would’ve still happened and you would’ve gotten hurt as well”

“Yes. But the damage would’ve been minimal”

“Y/N—-“

“You try falling for theses five and watching them kill themselves individuality because of your own actions. If Obi Wan finds nothing, they would’ve left for nothing”

“Leaving the republic was their decision. You didn’t influence it”

“But I did” Y/N frowns removing her hand from him. “I only do bring pain now don’t I?”

“No” Reylen frowns. “You do not. Why would you say that? Your past was unpredictable. You went through a lot. They went through a lot. Both individuality and then together. That’s how love works. As sick as it is to suffer. Together makes everything hurt much less”

“But I wasn’t there for any of them” Y/N frowns feeling the pain in her head return making her leave the medical suite as Reylen sighs sitting beside Tech’s bed and taking his datapad for a second.

Entry 235

I didn’t want to leave her. None of us did. We were following Hunter’s orders...as he was following hers. I’m used to waking up around 0300 hours to record her nightmares. She told me her droid did it for her and she’d wake up on her own, but when I suggested that I’d do it. She’d let me sleep with her afterward instead of staying up for the rest of the night. It helped her. And it helped me. Now I’m simply awake that early and can’t find a reason to go back to sleep.

Entry 268

Crosshair almost hit a child. Again. Y/N would be so infuriated if she saw that happen. But not to excuse his behavior, the kid deserved it. Being told information about us that only tears one of us down without their knowledge, we all would’ve done something about it. Just. Not to a child.

Entry 301

Planning route to come back is difficult when the Havoc had undergone a lot of damage. Really could use our Y/N. I. Mechanic. I meant mechanic. Ugh.

Reylen sets his datapad back down before getting up to go after Y/N.

But once reaching the surface, Y/N had forced the Havoc Marauder over to the base. Reylen immediately opened the hatch to enter the underground hanger to help her.

“So you’re going to work on all of this?”

“I have your team of droids. They’ll help me. But yes”

“I read Tech’s data entries. They would’ve been here sooner if the Marauder wasn’t badly damaged”

Y/N gripped onto her shirt taking a deep breath before removing their cloak and getting to work.

Sometimes

Old habits never die

Echo was first to wake out of the five as he felt more exhausted even after the hit they took. He sat up on the bed seeing his brothers comfortably in their own and Reylen propped up at her desk asleep. He got up slowly keeping in mind of his injuries as he took his blanket and covered Reylen on his way out in search of Y/N.

Y/N continued to work on the Marauder before being pulled out from under thinking it was a droid.

“You fucking tin can I’m in the middle—“ She stopped talking when she locked eyes with Echo who had his anxiety written all over him. “Oh Echo...”

“Cyar’ika...” He frowns as Y/N urgently took him into her embrace feeling him grip onto her back slotting himself in her grasp. “I thought we...we weren’t going to make it in time”

“It’s okay Echo, you’re here now. I’m here”

“You are...fuck” He held onto her not letting ago any time soon...

Not like she wanted to

A few days went by and the batch was back on their feet and doing their recovery in Reylen’s home away from home. As long as Y/N stays around a little while longer, the batch is just as much her family as Y/N.

“OI. Fuck off”

“I need to check your injuries and make sure everything is clean. Please be patient or I’ll tase you” Reylen threats Cross as Y/N came in to get herself a bandage when she saw him not cooperating.

“Rey, I’ve got this one”

“Fucking—-Thank god” Reylen got up grabbing her datapad to go get orders shipped out and received.

Y/N pushes the stool over to Crosshair taking a seat.

“Doll face—“

“She has more medical training than I do. Can’t you listen to her every now and then?”

“Hey I don’t trust many people”

“Hmm. If you can trust me, you can trust her. She doesn’t have as big of a record than I do”

“Maybe that’s why I trust you, doll face” Crosshair gently caresses Y/N’s face watching her ease into such.

“Cross. If it gets infected, I will kill you” Y/N smiles making him laugh before sighing.

“Fine. I’ll let her look”

“No she has other plans. She is a busy woman. I’ll take care of it” Y/N laughs pulling away and getting the bandages including a stim pack.

Crosshair got up to follow her and before she could even react, he took her face into his hands and pressed his lips against hers. Y/N froze for a second, setting the stim down on the table before them grabbing at his blacks and pulling him close.

He’s wanted this for a while now

I knew she felt the same way

Taglist:

@xxeiraxx @fennign @meli-that-girl @Spp2011

#the bad batch #bad batch #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #crosshair bad batch #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch #hunter bad batch #tech bad batch #aboardthehavocmarauder

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happyandticklish · 4 years ago

Text

Unusual Interrogations

Notes: For the ask by @ticklish-sidekick who requested villain/hero tickles with Percy Jackson. It gets a little angsty at the end, fair warning. I hope it lives up to expectations! :)

Summary: Luke kidnaps Percy for information and uses unorthodox methods to acquire it.

When Percy first opened his eyes, he found blank walls staring back at him, grays and white blending in and out of each other. Some of the walls were peeling, and as he glanced down he could see the remains of debris covering the ground, indicating some kind of ongoing construction.

It took him a second to realize he was in a warehouse. It took him an even longer second to realize he was still in boxers, his preferred apparel each night. He shivered, wishing he could somehow cover himself. Unfortunately, it seemed as though his arms and legs were tied securely to either side of one of the many supporting beams in the building, stretching his exposed body out.

He tried to think back on his most recent memories. The last thing he remembered was going to bed the previous night, safe and secure at Camp Half-Blood. How he got here was a mystery.

He struggled for a moment, attempting to somehow wriggle his way out of the bonds, but whoever had tied him here certainly knew their way around a knot. He exhaled in frustration. He didn’t have Riptide either, as the pen/sword was stored securely in the front pockets of his jeans, thrown haphazardly on his cabin floor. Not that a sword would have been much use anyways, with his hands out of commission as they were.

“Hello?” he called out warily. “Who’s there? Is this some kind of prank? Ha, ha, very funny. Tie the great Percy Jackson up, see what happens. Well, you’ve had your fun now, I think it’s time you let me go.”

“This is no prank.”

Percy startled as a figure emerged from behind him, stalking around the pole slowly to face him. A scar ran jagged down his features, and a shock of blonde hair crested his forehead. Percy frowned. “Wait. Luke?”

A smirk tugged up the corners of his lips, and Luke spread his arms wide in welcome. “Bingo.” He glanced down in amusement. “Nice underwear by the way. Is that… Nemo print?”

Percy flushed, bristling at the comment. He had almost forgotten about those. He wished now that he had chosen to wear something more dignified, but admittedly nobody really prepares for a kidnapping. “It’s for all ages. Look, forget about that, what’s going on? Where are we?”

“Do you like it?” Luke asked, surveying their surroundings. “Very roomy, spacious. This building has been ongoing construction for years now. I believe it’s supposed to be a law firm, but the plans for it fell apart and now I have the place all to myself. It took a while to find somewhere we wouldn’t be interrupted, but I pulled through—as always.”

Wouldn’t be interrupted. The words sent a chill down Percy’s spine. Despite his apprehensions, he didn’t want it to seem like Luke was getting to him, so he tilted his chin up and spat, “What are you gonna do to me, then? Torture me? Kill me?”

Luke shrugged, calmly approaching him until they were inches apart. “No, no, no. I can’t kill you, remember? You have that pesky curse that prevents me from doing so. What I want is information. I know you and your little camp is planning and attack, and I want to know what it is.”

“I’m not gonna tell you that!” Percy exclaimed indignantly. “You’re crazy!”

“Obviously you’re not,” Luke agreed dryly. “I figured you weren’t going to just hand over top secret plans willingly. But—” Luke placed hands on either side of him—“I have ways of making people talk.”

“So you… are gonna torture me?” Percy confirmed hesitantly.

“In a way,” Luke agreed. “See, I figured normal torture wouldn’t be enough. Anyone can hold out against pain—it just takes endurance. No, what I’m going to do to you is much worse. The kind of torture that needles away at your sanity slowly, an itch you just can’t scratch no matter how much you want to. The kind of torture that has left grown men begging for mercy within seconds. Do you know what it is?”

Percy slowly shook his head, feeling almost hypnotized by Luke’s words.

Luke curled his fingers in slightly on either side of Percy, smirking at his sharp inhale. “Tell me Jackson... are you ticklish?”

Instantly, nerves flooded Percy’s stomach at those three words, words that had foretold his doom many times in the past though usually he was at free to at least defend himself. He scoffed, though the sound came out more nervous and giggly than he had intended. “Really? Tickling? This is your hardened torture method?”

“You never answered the question,” Luke reminded him, his fingers ever so slowly wiggling against his sides, though it had the effect of making Percy want to crawl out of his own skin. “Are. You. Ticklish?”

Percy tried to answer but the second he opened his mouth a volley of laughter attempted to escape and he slammed it close again. His lips tugged up into an unwilling smile, and he squirmed underneath Luke’s touch.

“No answer?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow. “I guess I’ll have to assume that’s a yes.”

Percy shook his head rapidly, his smile growing wider with the other’s words.

“You’re not?” Luke preformed a rapid squeeze attack on his sides and Percy shrieked, breaking into a fit of hysterical giggles. “What was that then?”

“I-I’m nahahahat!” Percy insisted, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to somehow block out the sensations. “Iihihit dohohohoesn’t tihihickle a-ahahat ahahall!”

“You’re not a very convincing liar, Jackson.” Luke gave him a brief break, letting the other breathe for a moment. “You know, I almost feel bad for you. If you’re that ticklish after only a couple seconds of this, I can’t imagine how you’re going to last an hour.”

Percy’s eyes bugged out of his head. There was no possible way he could last another couple minutes like this, let alone an hour. “A-An hour?” he repeated nervously, desperately hoping maybe he had just heard him wrong.

“Or longer,” Luke mused, running a finger slowly up his sides and watching him flinch away. “Maybe days. However long this takes, really. It all depends on how quickly you break.”

He had to be bluffing. There was no way Luke would risk keeping him that long; his friends would eventually come to his rescue and his entire plot would be unveiled. It would be ludicrous to keep him longer than a day. Still, as Luke’s finger made its slow path up his side, just brushing against his armpits before darting down again and sending shudders down his spine, Percy couldn’t help but doubt his own assessment. His friends wouldn’t notice he was missing till morning at least. That gave him hours in which to suffer under the assault of the torturous sensations.

“C-C’mon,” Percy stammered, panic writhing sudden and quick through his stomach. “You don’t need to do this, really—”

“So we know your sides are ticklish,” Luke interrupted, ignoring his protests. He traced his fingertips lightly over the spot as he spoke, sending the other into a round of reluctant giggles. “But I wonder if there’s somewhere else that would get a better reaction out of you? Do you want to volunteer any information? No? I guess I’ll explore on my own.... Maybe this soft little belly of yours is ticklish?”

“Ihihit’s nahahat sohoft—ahAHAhaha, nohoho!” Percy’s laughter jumped an octave and quickly shot through his own denial. Quick, nimble fingers scratched gently against the skin, a delicate tickle that was quickly driving though his inhibitions. He jerked on his arms, but the bonds held as tight as before and no matter how much he squirmed and writhed to get away from the touch, he found himself ultimately helpless to stop it. “Nahahat thehehe stohohomahahach!”

“Hot spot, is it?” Luke taunted. “You know it’s strange—in all the time I knew you I never realized how ticklish you were.”

“B-Behehecause yohohou wehehere ahahalways t-trying toho k-kihihill mehehe!”

“It seems so silly now. All my past trouble could have been solved if I had just tried tickling you instead of trying to kill you.”

“I-Ihihi wohohould hahahave preheherred ihihit!”

“Oh?” Luke’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead and he leaned, a shark’s grin glittering on his teeth. “Is that a confession, Jackson? Do you actually enjoy this torture?”

Percy’s eyes widened as he realized the connotations of his statement and he desperately tried to backtrack. “N-Nohoho, Ihihi juhuhust—ehehe, ahaha, Ihihi juhust—fuhuhu—nohoho—Ihihi dihihidn’t mehehean—pfft, aha, lehehet mehehe ahahanswer!”

“Gladly,” Luke agreed, changing his gentle touch into a series of rapid pokes that made Percy jump.

“T-Thehen stahahap tihihihickling mehehehe, ahaha, nohohohoho!”

“Ah, see, I’m afraid I can’t help you there,” Luke informed him sympathetically. “See, that’s the thing about torture—it doesn’t exactly end when you want it to. But feel free to talk. All you have to do is resist a little bit of tickling. Should be easy for the famed demigod, hmm?”

Percy, quite possibly, was going to kill him. At the very least slap him. Certainly give him a stern talking to or write a note to his mother. All of those options were proving rather difficult at the moment however. “Fuhuhuhuhuck, ahaha, shihihit!”

“Such strong language,” Luke noted. “Feeling anymore like talking?”

Percy squeaked at each poke of his finger, shouting out obscene phrases that in the normal light of day he would never dare utter, but otherwise refused to answer.

“Still holding out?” Luke said, shaking his head in disappointment. “You know, you’re only hurting yourself with this petty resistance. Sooner or later you’re bound to give in; it’s only a matter of time. It does make me wonder though—is your upper body really the best place to tickle you?”

Luke momentarily stopped his attack, circling around the pole to the other side. Percy allowed his eyes to flutter open once more, breathing heavily. His relief was short-lived however, as soon as he realized where Luke was headed. “No,” he ordered, a giggly panic lacing his words. “No, absolutely not, no fair, not the feet, c’mon, please!”

Luke kneeled down by his feet, slowly sliding one and then the other sock off. As the cold air whistling through the ware house hit his skin, a shiver of anticipation coursed its way through Percy’s limbs. Goosebumps scattered down his flesh and he curled his toes preemptively.

“Just to clarify, not your feet?” Luke repeated, grasping one of his feet in a firm grip that left the sole completely exposed.

“Yes,” Percy agreed, squirming in his hands. “Please, I can’t handle it, you don’t understand—pfah!”

The involuntary noise left him before he could stop it as one nail dragged slowly down the length of his foot. A slow smile made its way over his features and he stiffened, letting out a soft, “No. No, this isn’t f-fahair.”

“It’s perfectly fair,” Luke contradicted, keeping up the light teasing. For the moment, anyways. “I want information and you’re keeping it from me. Sometimes you have to resort to drastic measures to get what you want.”

Percy stammered out a response that was lost as Luke’s pace changed from a single finger into many spidering down his arch and onto the ball of his foot. He squeaked, giggling uncontrollably as his foot shook in the other’s grasp. “Nohoho, stahahahap!”

“Are you gonna tell me what I need to know?”

“Thihihis ihihihis sohohoho uhuhunfahahair!” Percy repeated instead through babbling laughter, clenching and unclenching his toes as he fought to somehow control his reactions. “Thihihis ihihihis—thihihis ihihis—gahahaha!”

“I’m hardly even touching you,” Luke informed him, amusement dancing through his words. “Is this a bad spot?”

Shakily, Percy managed to flip him the middle finger.

“Ooh, bad move,” Luke said, clucking his tongue in disappointment. “I think you’re forgetting the power dynamic here. Maybe this will help you remember.”

Without preamble, Luke raked his nails quickly up and down his foot, digging into the skin in a way that made Percy near lose his mind. He jerked forward, arching against his bonds though he knew it was useless now. He squeaked and snorted at each and every touch of Luke’s fingers, the ticklish torment racking his body. “Nohohoho, gahaha, ehehe, stahahap! Thihihihis ihihihis sohohoho ehehevil!”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yohohohou’re ehehenjoying thihihis tohohoo muhuhuhuch!”

“Maybe,” Luke admitted. “I have to admit it is sort of fun to get back at you, for wrecking my plans so many times now. Do you know how many times I’ve been scolded for your interference? This is kind of therapeutic in a way.”

“Ihihihihi hahahahad tohoho!” Percy protested, struggling to get out coherent sentences as the intense tickling on his feet drove him slowly insane. “Y-Yohohou wehehere, ahaha, shihihit—ehehe, uhuhum—nohohoho—yohohou hahahahad tohoho behehe stohohohopped!”

Luke’s smile dropped a little, a dark shadow crossing over his eyes. “I did what had to be done. No one asked you to get involved.”

There was something about his tone that made Percy want to inquire further, but he found that speech was quickly becoming impossible. The upper body tickling had been bad but ultimately bearable. This was something else. It was hell. It was torture. It was exhilarating.

He had no idea how to feel about that.

In an attempt to distract the other from the earlier course of their conversation, Luke decided to switch up tactics. He momentarily stopped his attack and Percy sagged against the rope, breathing in much needed breaths. A silly grin was plastered to his features, and even the slight breeze wafting through the building seemed to tickle. There were shuffling sounds from behind him as Luke reached into a bag of supplies Percy hadn’t noticed from his vantage point. Unseen by the other, Luke pulled out a bottle of skincare oil and a simple hairbrush—both seemingly harmless from the outsider’s perspective. Unfortunately for his bound captive, the objects were far more intimidating than they appeared at first glance.

Percy frowned when he first felt the cool oil being applied to his feet, flinching a little when Luke’s finger pressed in to rub it into the skin. “What is that? Is this a massage now? Because I would much prefer that.”

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it? No, this is something much better.” Luke smoothed the oil out, gently sliding it in-between his toes. Percy twitched and giggled throughout the process. “Not many people know about this method, strangely. But trust me, it’s very effective.”

Though Percy couldn’t imagine how simple oil could make things worse than they already were, a crawling anxiety spread throughout him regardless. He tried to plead once more, in the hopes that maybe this time it would be somewhat effective. “Why are you doing this? Aren’t there better ways of getting the information?”

“Maybe,” Luke conceded. “But this method seemed easiest. You’d be surprised by the number of people who will talk under the influence of a mere feather.”

“Even you?” Percy challenged.

A hot pink tinged the ends of Luke’s ears, though the sight was invisible to Percy. “That is for me to know and you to never find out. Besides, I’m not the one tied up am I?”

It was an obvious lie, but Luke was right in that there was little the other could do about it in his situation. “Well what is your ingenious method then?” Percy said instead, a sarcastic lilt to his voice as he attempted to brave through his fear. “Because I hate to break it to you Luke, simply smearing oil over my feet isn’t going to—shihIHIHIHIT!”

The expletive broke from Percy suddenly as hard bristles were dragged back and forth quickly over his soles. It was a new and rough and intensely, unbearably ticklish in a way Percy hadn’t known could exist before. “AhAHAHAHahaha, whaHAHAHAhat thehe HEHEHELL?!”

“Isn’t going to what?” Luke inquired, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t going to tickle? Is that what you were going to say? Tell me Jackson—does this tickle?”

He dragged the brush over the ball of his foot and Percy went ballistic with laughter, shrieking and twisting like a madman in an effort to somehow, someway, get that damned brush away from his foot.

Thus far, he was entirely unsuccessful.

“OHOHO MIHIHI GOHOHOD!” Percy exclaimed, throwing his head back in ticklish agony. “THAHAHAHAT’S SOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAD! PlehEHHEHEhehease STAHAHahahAHAHAP!”

“Are you gonna give me the information?”

“IHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T!”

“Sure you can, it’s very simple,” Luke assured him. “Just tell me your attack strategy and the brush goes right back in my bag where it’ll stay for the rest of your future. But first I need you to talk, okay? Do you think you could do that for me?”

“PLEHEHEHEASE! IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES!” Percy choked on uncontrollable giggly shrieks, every swipe of the hairbrush sending him into a whole new level of hell. Every inch of him pleaded with himself to just talk already, to make it stop even for just a moment. The only thing that made him resist was the thought of everyone back at camp currently asleep in their beds. He thought about what would happen if he let Luke win, if he had to face each and every one of their disappointed faces. So he held out. Despite the fact that he had never experienced tickling like this and each second that ticked by felt like an eternity, he held out.

“Percy,” Luke said, a bit of hesitation creeping into his voice. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

Percy could only laugh in response.

“Because I could keep doing this,” Luke insisted, narrowing his eyes. “Hours of just this, just this hair brush on your feet. Is that what you want?”

Percy threw his head back, eyes shut in helpless mirth.

Luke was getting irritated by this point, the other’s reluctance to speak bothering him for reasons he couldn’t explain to himself. “You would rather endure this—” to emphasize his point he started attacking the other foot with spider tickles and sending Percy into hysterics—“than rat out your friends?”

Percy squealed and writhed, the tickling to such an intense degree at this point that he hardly allowed himself to even focus on the words coming out of Luke’s mouth.

“Fine then!”

With a flourish, the tickling stopped as Luke dropped his hands, sitting back in annoyance. Leftover giggles spilled from Percy’s lips, his feet tingling from phantom sensations. A strange euphoria clouded his brain, similar to that of staying up for days on end or winning a battle. His nerves were exhausted, his mind rattled, and he couldn’t erase the stupid smile from his face no matter how hard he tried.

Luke shoved the bottle and the brush into his bag, which he slung over his shoulder jerkily. He grabbed a knife from his pocket, resolutely and suddenly cutting the ropes holding Percy. The boy dropped to the ground, his legs feeling like jelly and unable to support his sudden weight. Percy threw a confused glance up at the other, managing a frown. “What are you—”

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” Luke snapped, holding the knife out to him threateningly. Percy’s eyes widened at the weapon, though he was too exhausted to try to move out of the way at all. Luke looked like he was going to say something else, but after a moment he just closed his mouth into a firm line and stalked off, the assumption that Percy was not to follow him.

Percy slowly made his way to his feet, his legs shaking underneath him. He made his way through the ware house cautiously, though at this point he was too tired to care much about anything. As he exited the building, sunlight blinded him and he realized it was probably early morning by this point.

For a moment he considered what would happen if he told the others about what had happened to him that night. In the end though, he decided that it would be better, for him at least, if no one ever knew about the events of that night.

With a sigh, he raised his hand to call a taxi and resolutely made his way back to Long Island Sound.

#tickle fic #percy jackson #luke castellan #fic request #requests #tickling #pjo #fanfic #fanfiction #tickle interrogations

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juliandev0rak · 4 years ago

Note

Main 6 reacting to MC crashing their own funeral? Like, MC was alone in the woods and encountered a magical plant that temporarily stopped their heart for a couple days and so they passed out. When their LI finds them, they think they are dead and obviously hold a funeral service. But in the middle of it, MC wakes up in their coffin and starts knocking from the inside until someone opens it to find MC alive and well.

spooky and angsty? sign me up! ⚰️

I also used ideas from @hellodarknessmyoldfwen who had a similar request idea 💗

MC has really been through it… dying once is enough but TWICE?

warnings: mentions of death, grieving, being buried alive (not detailed, only briefly mentioned but i wanted to include a warning in case)

(also extra points to anyone who catches my What We Do In The Shadows reference)

Asra

he’s so upset when he finds you in the forest with no pulse and no sign of life, he collapses next to you and tries every spell he can think of to wake you up again

he can’t believe he’s lost you a second time and he blames himself for not saving you again

he has to be carried away from your side hours later when Muriel eventually finds him, he doesn’t want to leave you alone even though by now he’s tried every spell he can think of and it’s no use

he spends the days before your funeral in the palace library looking for anything he might’ve missed, he brought you back once and he’ll do anything to bring you back again- even if it means sacrificing himself

at first he doesn’t want to go to your funeral, it’s too painful, but he doesn’t want to regret missing it so he goes and Muriel stands with him for support

he feels like he needs to say something to honor you and all that you mean to him. but when he steps up to the front of the small crowd he’s interrupted by a loud knocking noise

his eyes fly to the coffin as he hears another noise and then he feels your aura, terrified and bright, and suddenly he’s clawing at the wooden lid

someone comes to help him open it and there you are, sitting up and blinking into the brightness around you, incredibly confused

he shouts your name and nearly faints in surprise, not believing his eyes

after the initial surprise dies down you explain what happened, how you’d gone to find a rare herb for a spell and accidentally picked the wrong one

he’s worried that being dead, even for a few days, might’ve affected your memories again but luckily you seem just fine

still- he isn’t letting you out of his sight, he’s watched you die twice and there’s no way he’s going to let it happen a third time

Julian

when he sees you lying in the forest his medical skills kick in and he’s immediately checking for a pulse and doing everything he can to get you breathing again

he doesn’t want to admit that you could really be gone

he blames himself for letting you die on his watch again and he goes into a deep spiral, spending all of his time between your death and funeral in the Rowdy Raven drowning his sorrows

the morning of your funeral Portia finds him passed out in his usual corner booth and drags him to Mazelinka’s to clean up, and hopefully sober up, before the funeral

when he sees your coffin he can’t help but burst into tears, hating himself for not finding you sooner or doing something more to bring you back

when he hears the first knocking sound he figures it must be his splitting headache but then he notices your other friends reacting to the sound as the knocking becomes more frequent

he watches with wide eyes as the lid to the coffin is lifted and you pop up, just as he had not long ago after his visit to the Hanged Man

”Oh, I’m way too drunk for this” is his first response, but then things shift into focus and he rushes to your side to check you over and make sure you’re really ok

if you thought he was overprotective about your health before, he’s now extra careful and won’t leave your side for days until he’s certain the poison is out of your system

he has to hand it to you though, that was quite a dramatic reappearance and after he’s sure you’re safe both of you love to joke about crashing your own funerals

Nadia

she isn’t the one to find you and when the Chamberlain comes to tell her the news that your body’s been found at the edge of the palace gardens, she rushes to your side

she immediately calls an investigation to determine the cause of death and brings Julian to examine you as well

when no cause of death is found she resigns herself to the fact that she’s lost you and begins to mourn

the funeral she plans for you is elaborate and half of Vesuvia is invited, there are speeches and a parade and she only just restrains herself from naming a holiday after you

halfway through one of the speeches there’s a commotion on the raised platform where your coffin is displayed and guards rush to the sound, only to realize it’s coming from inside your coffin

they look to Nadia in confusion and she steps onto the platform to press an ear to the coffin, when she hears a muffled noise she rears back in shock and immediately orders the guards to open the lid

as you sit up in the coffin, very much alive, Nadia realizes she’s never been more glad to be wrong about something

she calls the best doctors for you and insists on keeping you in bed for the next few days as she makes sure you’re really back to full health

she cancels every meeting and event to stay by your side until you’re feeling good as new and she asks you to please be more careful when picking wild plants, she has no idea what Lucio might have had planted during his time as Count

Muriel

Inanna is the one who finds you and brings Muriel to where you’re laying, not too far from the hut and only a little ways into the wilder part of the forest

he fights back terror when he sees you lying there and can’t feel a pulse, his first thought is to run into town to get help

his second thought is to check what’s in your hand, a prickly looking green plant

he recognizes it immediately and heaves a sigh of relief, the adrenaline in his body causing him to fall to his knees next to you

he knows all of the plants that grow around here so he recognizes that you’ve accidentally eaten something poisonous, luckily for the both of you it’s only temporary

he carries you in to the hut and bundles your lifeless looking body up in the soft furs on his bed

he wishes he could get a message to Asra to see if he can help but he doesn’t want to leave your side

the effects of the poison could last for hours or days so he sits by the side of the bed holding your cold hand and hoping you’ll open your eyes again

by the second day he’s getting worried, from what he knows it should have worn off already but you could just be having a strong reaction to it

he takes to pacing around the hut, leaving only to get more firewood so he can keep your body warm, there isn’t much he can do but wait and hope

after four days he’s about to give up, maybe he’s identified the wrong plant and you really are dead, but just as he’s made up his mind to go find Asra you open your eyes and stare up at him with wide, confused eyes

he can’t restrain his excitement and relief as he pulls you into his arms and holds you close, making you promise to never eat anything you find in the woods without showing him first

Portia

when she finds you sprawled out under a big oak tree her first thought is that you’re napping but when she takes a step closer she notices you’re not breathing

she immediately screams and draws the palace guards who help carry you inside while she runs to get Julian

despite his best efforts he simply can't find a pulse or get you to wake up so he pronounces you dead, sending Portia into a fit of hysterics

at your funeral a few days later she stands supported between Julian and Mazelinka, she’s trying to be strong for you but she can’t stop crying for long enough to say the eulogy she’s prepared

she gets ahold of her emotions eventually and launches into her memories of you, telling you how much everyone loves you and will miss you

the casket lid isn’t closed because Portia had insisted on one more look at you so it isn’t difficult for you to sit up, feeling quite well rested and very confused

as you take in your surroundings it occurs to you that you’re sitting in a coffin and that Portia is currently talking about you in the past tense, clearly there’s been a misunderstanding

”Portia” you call, trying to get out of the raised coffin, she doesn’t hear you so you call her name again and she spins around to face you

”Will you be QUIET? I’m trying to talk about MC!” She shouts, face red from tears and now anger as she tries to find the source of the rude interruption

her eyes widen as she takes you in and then she screams and runs towards you, nearly knocking you over

”You’re alive!” she says, hands reaching for your face as if to make sure you’re real. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Ilya, he doesn’t even have a medical license.” she grumbles, causing the man in question to object

after you’ve had a chance to explain what happened she says, ”Don’t you ever scare me like that again!”

Lucio

he might not show it but he’s completely heartbroken that you’re no longer with him, he’s just too proud to cry in front of anyone (that’s reserved for behind closed doors)

he must admit, however, that he’s quite proud of the funeral he’s planned for you- it’s gaudy and extravagant and open to the public and he’s asked pretty much everyone you know to make a speech about you

he sits through all of the speeches without really paying attention, he’s thinking about the statute he wants to commission of you for the town square and how much he wishes you were here with him to get through these boring speeches (even if they are about you)

when it’s his turn to give a speech he starts to feel better, he loves an audience and he wants to make sure all of Vesuvia remembers you

you wake up just as he takes the stage and are confused to find yourself surrounded by hundreds of white roses and laying in some sort of large gilded box, covered in what looks like precious jewels, you’ve woken up in some strange places before but this certainly takes the cake

you brush roses off of yourself and take stock of the situation, there's a lid on top of you but there are plenty of little holes which let in light and you can hear the sounds of a crowd around you

when you try the lid and it moves easily you reach up to push it off, reeling at the sunlight that floods into the space

you take in the sight of Lucio on a stage set off to your left and the huge crowd in front of you, suddenly realizing that you’re currently attending your own funeral

”MC was the bravest and most noble magician of all time, they were unparalleled in all of Vesuvia. NO- unparalleled in all the world!” Lucio is saying as you sit up and you hold back a laugh

”Was I?” you call over to him, swinging a leg over the edge of what you now realize is the world’s fanciest coffin, gilded even on the inside as if a dead person could appreciate the finery

”You were!” he answers, his signature smirk in place as he turns back to the crowd to continue his speech but the words die on his tongue and his head swings back to look at you in shock

”Well, I’m sorry to crash the party but it seems I’m no longer dead.” you explain, the crowd staring at you in as much awe as Lucio is

”See what I mean, people of Vesuvia? Unparalleled!” he grins as he rushes over to you and the crowd breaks into a cheer

once the chaos dies down you realize that Lucio still seems a bit upset and you realize that he’s upset that you stole the show, ”Are you really mad at me for coming back to life during my own funeral?” you ask

”My speech was going great and you ruined it! I was in the zone! Everyone was loving it.” He pouts and you shake your head in disbelief

”I loved it, I saw the end of it. It was a very lovely funeral, Lucio, I’m glad I had a chance to attend.” You smile

that seems to snap his brain back into place and he pulls you into his arms with a serious expression, “I’m so glad you came back to me.”

#the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana fic #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel the arcana #portia devorak #count lucio #asra the arcana #asra alnazar #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana

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createandconstruct · 4 years ago

Text

I have many thoughts about the new developments from chapter 306. And usually I never share my thoughts but here we go.

Vigilante Storyline

Izuku is very obviously going to be a vigilante. He puts his hood up in that last and seems to be going after that villain. While I’m sorting out my feelings on this twist I think it’s safe to say the majority of people did not expect. It’s a new direction and makes sense from a narrative perspective since the kids are entering their second year. Rather than have izuku and the students repeat the same school activities from their first year (which could get repeatitive) we’re moving into a vigalente/crimefighting hero story that puts izuku in direct conflict with current society. Good potential stuff.

UA students/teachers/All Might the next potential damsel in distress

The down side to Izuku’s plan however is that - as is typical in superhero stories (spider-man cough cough) - he leaves to protect his friends and family but I mean... come on kiddo. Shigaraki and AFO know what school you went to. They know your classmates. And they know your connection to All Might. I doubt we have to worry about Izuku being gone from UA and the other kids/teachers for long as they are in the hot seat for being AFO’s method for luring Izuku into his hands. There’s also a part in this that makes me nervous for All Might and Nighteye’s prediction. All Might’s horrific fate could very well be a result of Izuku’s actions in 306 if this is the catalyst that causes AFO-shigaraki to target UA and its students/teachers to get to Izuku. Having said that though, I still don’t think All Might will die. However, Izuku saving him (maybe with some classmates by his side) could be a very appropriate “I am here” moment. Also All Might can’t die cause I don’t want him to

Shinsou has the perfect open seat

Not a single classmate was removed from 1-A and Shinsou gets added in. Impecapble problem solving there. Izuku leaving so Shinsou can take his place is really a perfect move. Everyone in 1-A (soon to be 2-A) will still be center stage and now Shinsou will join them. Not to mention this could put all them at odds with Izuku who is know illegally using his provisional license without supervision. It will also be interesting to see Shinsou react if he learns that Izuku received his quirk from All Might. It depends on if he got a letter though. The bigger issue though is the fate of 1-A and the teachers in reaction to Izuku’s actions

Chapter 307 and the future

I feel like there’s a couple possibilities for chapter 307. We’ve entered a new arc with people living in the secured establishments like UA, citizens acting as vigilantes, villains going wild through Japan, AFO plotting to get OFA, and Izuku in need of a rescue from the track he’s on. So Chapter 307 here’s the possibilities from least likely to most likely: (1) We get another time skip? Really don’t think we’re doing this since 306 ends with a skip to April (2) We get a society chapter with a look at multiple perspectives like the villains, hero commission, etc. (3) We continue with Izuku’s point of view and his vigilantism (4) We get a flashback of Izuku visiting Gran Torino, getting the cape, and telling both All Might and Torino his future plans and intentions (5) We continue with reactions to Izuku leaving -the 1-A kids discuss and react to izuku. We see the fallout of Izuku dropping out and going AWOL on everyone but specifically on Inko, All Might, Todoroki, Aizawa, and Bakugou.

I listed them in order of who’s reaction I think will have the biggest impact on the chapter and story. Inko because uhhh we need to see her reacting to this and having some conflict with All Might who obviously can’t keep his promise of watching over Izuku if Izuku isn’t, ya know, a student at UA??? Also we don’t know if Izuku even confided in All Might about leaving UA. It’s possible All Might was given a letter too but it feels 50/50 since if All Might is in the loop we can devote a chapter to the other characters’ reactions. Now Todoroki obviously received a letter. He’s probably going to deal with the validation of knowing something was up with Izuku’s quirk and maybe feeling conflicted on dealing with Touya vs going after Izuku or even following in his footsteps. I can see Todoroki confronting Bakugou about this as well. As for Aizawa, I feel like his reaction will set the direction for the new arc. Aizawa’s sentiment in the last arc was that he has to live to watch over his students and see them graduate. Obviously Izuku dropping out opposes that so I can see Aizawa leading the squad to bring Izuku back or work towards opposing AFO and his plans so that Izuku can return. The main part of this squad? Probably Bakugou. Bakugou expressed the idea that Izuku needs to stop winning alone. He’s likely to be pissed and hopefully charging forward with class 1-A to bring Izuku back whether that’s by going after him or fighting the societal issues so Izuku can return. I feel like Ochako and Todoroki will also be in the spotlight with Bakugou.

Some Random Thoughts

Izuku dropping off and putting everything on his shoulders alone ties in well with Ochako’s character arc of wanting to be a hero to help other heroes.

There’s still the issue of the traitor. A part of me wonders if Shinsou may be used to figure out who the traitor is - whether they’re a student or teacher.

We also had the international heroes mentioned which feels very much like a setup. I still feel like a study/training abroad arc is coming (maybe even right now?? if we randomly find out Izuku isn’t in Japan but in America? I kinda doubt it though)

This really feels like a major shift in the story and essentially the start of the second act. Apparently Horikoshi made a comment that the story may be “ending sooner rather than later” in which I really up sooner is still much later. Things feel so promising right now I would hate to see the series end soon but then again as long as AFO-shigaraki has Ragdoll’s search quirk and a clear path to Izuku it really feels like we have nowhere to go except the end.

Though maybe the next main goal will be to take back Ragdoll’s quirk from AFO-shigaraki so that Izuku will be out of the hot seat

My final thought is when thinking about to Izuku’s words at the start of the series he says this is the story of how he became the greatest hero not the #1 hero. It could be Izuku reached that status as a teenager before even graduating by defeating AFO, stopping/saving shigaraki, and ridding the world of both the quirks of AFO and OFA. Thus Izuku’s career as a hero ends after the moment he became the greatest hero. Or he keeps OFA but only the strength and loses the other quirks and connection to the other users (which could include All Might if he becomes a causality).

But on that note - so technically my final final thought - we got the predecessors all laid out for us in those chairs. Maybe AFO-shigaraki will have multiple encounters with Izuku, but rather than Izuku losing all of OFA he loses one predecessor and their quirk? I don’t really think this will happen though. Just a random idea.

Okay this post has gone on long enough. I just needed to explode about this chapter cause wow.

#bnha 306 #bnha spoilers #mha #mha spoilers #izuku midoriya #sorry if there's grammar mistakes #I'm too lazy to read through this

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kuroshitsuji-scenarios · 4 years ago

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11 with undertaker? Also I just remembered how much your writing slaps so I'm gonna go read everything again

Oh my—good luck! And thank you!

Pairing: Undertaker x Reader

Words: 1,135

Prompt: 11. “I didn’t hear any whispers.”

[ taglist ] [ commissions ]

His question surprised you no less than the fact that he offered you a cup of hot tea just when you went through his parlour’s door. It was not the first time you decided to pay him a visit—growing fond of his eccentric company was not something you planned alongside participating in one of those exquisite balls the high class of nobility was always invited to, nevertheless there you were. And you would be a liar if you told anyone that you did not enjoy the 5 o’clock tea and handmade biscuits with him every few days a week.

Undertaker was a source of many great surprises and he never failed to make you laugh. He was confident but not arrogant, clearly understanding his own nature, the task which was ever so difficult for many people. You, on the other hand, slowly learned how to express yourself more freely by his side and not cover yourself with odd conventions and social rules. You could be yourself, the vivid reflection of your personality and he never judged you for that, not even for a mere second.

Perhaps that was the reason why you eventually started loving him. The first man to not criticize your posture or manners or gaze. The first man who showed you the contest of how many biscuits can one fit into their mouth, the one who taught you to laugh out loud until your stomach hurts without covering your face, the first man who did not pay any attention to the way you sat on the couch and if you were wearing a corset or if your outfit was too much or not enough revealing. There was never a single inappropriate comment coming from his mouth, nor a lustful stare, no bad intentions.

He respected you in a way nobody did before, that is why it was impossible for you to not fall for him, even despite all his odds. If he could accept you with your flaws then you were not going to judge him either, especially since later you found out that they were somehow adorable, perfectly fitting puzzles of the whole image of him.

Until one evening, Undertaker asked you a single question with an expression far more serious than his usual, cheerful smile. He handed you a cup of tea and turned around to sit in an armchair in front of you, now the low, round table creating a border between you two. You did not like the cool aura which hanged in the air like a sharp knife, ready to fall down in every second.

“Haven’t you heard the rumours?”

Slowly, you shook your head. Naturally, there was many rumours around the manor, thousands of them wandering from one ear to the other, spreading lies and probabilities like a disease. None of them would apparently concern him, or so you thought.

“No,” you told him after taking a first sip of your tea—brewed just like you adored it the most. “I didn’t hear any whispers.”

Undertaker sighed deeply and glued his gaze to the small pot standing on the table, the one filled with now dying flowers he once gave to you. It was weeks ago and he was surprised how long did they manage to stay alive, considering how there was not enough natural light in the funeral parlour.

“What kind of rumours?” you insisted, now curious about the whole subject he brought. “People always gossip about the most ridiculous things, there’s no need for you to worry about it. Whatever you heard, they’ll forget about it sooner or later.”

“Some are not made to be forgotten, poppet. The ones only the death can erase.”

“And do you care about them? About what people say about you?” You were growing concerned, never facing this kind of situation before. Until then, Undertaker never really cared about opinions and it was clearly visible both in his attitude and appearance. Now it was different.

“It’s not that if I care for that matter, but rather if you do.” He peeked at you from under the snow white bangs. The tips must have tickled him when he slightly turned his head to you, because his nose wrinkled a little.

You thought for a moment, wondering what was this conversation leading to. Did he want you to stop visiting him? Prepare you for something you were going to hear soon? Share some dark secret? Whatever it was, you were slowly growing uneasy.

“What’s going on?” you asked then, looking at him for any signs of an answer. You were always open and sincere around him, and you hoped that he was, too.

Maybe you were wrong.

“There are some whispers regarding me,” Undertaker started after a long pause. “I suppose you can imagine they’re not the kindest. Still, lately I’ve had a peculiar encounter with a person I haven’t seen in a long time (and I was hoping to never see them again, if you ask me) and it led me to the situation where you can hear something about me. Something unpleasant. Of course, I didn’t want you to hear it from them, nor did I want to give them a reason to blackmail me so I decided to reveal the truth to you myself. Perhaps you’ll handle it better if you’ll hear it from me, not from anybody else.”

You were listening to him carefully, the cup of tea in your hands getting cooler and you did not even notice. Your mind was creating dozens of possible scenarios but whatever mystery he was hiding, it could not be too bad for you to understand, right?

“Whatever you say,” you assured patiently “remember that I love you. And no matter what you did, I will always support you.”

The smile which appeared on his lips was sad.

“We’ll see about that, poppet.”

“Well? Don’t make me wait any longer and allow me to decide by myself whether my feelings are everlasting or not. What kind of rumours did you have in mind?”

The armchair creaked under his weight when he stood up and moved few steps from you, the heels of his shoes echoing on the wooden floor. He reached behind his back like a magician preparing for the great trick and you were too focused on his hands to notice the uncertain look in his eyes—for the great trick he truly did, materializing an enormous scythe in his palm, the blade so clean and sharp that you could spot your own reflection in it. Undertaker stood there, observing your reaction for a short while, clearly giving you a space and a chance to escape if you only wanted to.

His voice was barely a hoarse whisper when he spoke again.

“The rumours that I am Death.”

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #undertaker #undertaker x reader #scenarios #shinigami #queue

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trashscenariihxh · 5 years ago

Text

Chrollo gets pegged

Exactly as it says on the tin. Yet another commission!

It had started out as a joke, a tiny offhanded comment not meant to be taken seriously. You’d been bent over a desk with Chrollo’s cock buried in your cunt, his fingers tangled in your hair, and a firm hand pressed between your shoulder blades, holding you down. Not an altogether unfavorable position, except the bastard was refusing to actually fuck you.

“Move!” You’d commanded, trying in vain to press back into him.

He’d chuckled at your irritation and given your hair a tug. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t you wish you could?”

He’d eventually given in and fucked you, but his little comment about you fucking him hung in the hair long after, planting itself in your mind and germinating into an Idea. With the help of a brief internet search, very helpful sex shops and express shipping, the Idea became a reality a short time later. The final step, though, was getting Chrollo to agree, which was proving to be more difficult than you’d anticipated.

“No.” Chrollo shook his head firmly and crossed his arms over his chest the second you presented him with your recent purchase.

“Why not?” you whined, not caring how ridiculous you looked holding a large black strap-on in one hand and a bottle of lubricant in the other.

“Not interested.”

“But I got your favorite color!”

“No, ______.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at his obstinacy. “What, are you too dignified for it?”

“It’s not that. I’m just not interested.”

You didn’t want to press the issue; doing so would only make Chrollo clam up further. No, you had to be much more subtle with your approach. Sneakier. More Chrollo-like. You were willing to wait, though. Good things come to those who wait.

***

Your opportunity to strike presented itself much sooner than expected, when Chrollo was feeling particularly amorous a few nights later. When he moved to get on top of you, you stopped him, making him lie on his back. “You seem stressed tonight, Dear. Let me take care of you.”

Chrollo cocked an amused eyebrow and gave you a look that said “what are you planning?” but relented, lying back and letting you crawl on top of him.

As you kissed your way down his chest, over his twitching abs, his hipbones, you took note of the little sounds of enjoyment that escaped him. This was promising. When you got to his cock, you gave it a few strokes before taking it into your mouth.

A deep hum of approval emanated from Chrollo’s chest as you lapped at his cock, swirling your tongue over the head and flattening it against the shaft. When you took all of him into your mouth and sucked, you heard Chrollo moan. Very promising indeed.

When you were sure that Chrollo was too lost in pleasure to notice, you quickly brought your fingers to your mouth and sucked, coating them generously in saliva before resuming your ministrations. Luckily for you, Chrollo’s legs were already bent and spread, so your next task was simple; as you continued to suck his cock, you pressed one of your wet fingers against his asshole.

Chrollo hissed when you rubbed against it, but didn’t tell you to stop, so you decided to just go for it. You pressed your finger into his ass, sliding in to the first knuckle, and waited. Still no protests; only a breathy moan from above. Confidence bolstered, you continued, sliding in to the second knuckle. When your finger slid fully into his ass, Chrollo finally spoke.

“W-what are you doing?”

What a stupid question. What did he expect you to say? Fingering your asshole, you idiot. With great difficulty you swallowed the snarky response, and instead opted for a much milder “do you like it?”

Before Chrollo could respond you pumped your finger inside him, hitting a sensitive spot within him. Or at least, you assumed it was sensitive, because Chrollo whimpered. Emboldened, you added another finger, scissoring and stretching and stroking deep inside.

“Oh, fuck!”

Chrollo’s use of the expletive caught you off guard for a moment; you pulled back, letting his cock slip out of your mouth with a slick pop.

“You okay?”

Chrollo nodded. “Keep… keep sucking.”

“Hm…” You smiled to yourself as you put your plan into action. With a soft hum, you withdrew your fingers from his ass and waited. You were not disappointed.

“Why did you stop?” Chrollo opened a large grey eye and regarded you reproachfully, seemingly offended by your actions.

“Oh, you want me to continue?” You did your best to look as surprised as possible. “I thought you weren’t interested.”

“______...” his tone was dangerous, and for a moment you wondered whether you should just do as he said. Being obedient was never your strong suit, however; a sly smile spread across your face as you took in his needy form.

“What if I told you no?”

“You won’t.”

You clicked your tongue. “But maybe I will.”

Chrollo sighed impatiently, a flush of desperation beginning to tinge his alabaster cheeks. He opened his mouth to berate you, but you cut him off.

“I’ll continue, Chrollo, on one condition.”

“Anything,” he responded, a little too quickly to disguise the need in his voice.

You bit your lip, trying to hide the shit-eating grin that threatened to spread across your face. “How about we use my newest purchase?”

Chrollo’s eyes widened momentarily before narrowing in consideration. “Once,” he said after a few moments of deliberation. “I’ll allow you this one time, but then you’ll get rid of that… thing and never bring it up again. Understood?”

You nodded, surprised that Chrollo had agreed so quickly. Quickly, as you were afraid Chrollo would change his mind if you waited too long, you went to the bedside table and pulled out the strap-on and a small bottle of lube. “You sure?”

Grey eyes narrowed. “If you ask me again, I’ll say no.” Chrollo was stroking himself now, watching you as you fastened the contraption around your hips. “Better hurry, or I’ll just finish myself off.” The glint in his eyes showed you that he meant it, so you hurriedly checked to make sure everything was secure before climbing back on to the bed.

Chrollo eyed you as you squirted the lube into your hand and slicked up the dildo. You wanted to make sure he had an easy time of things, after all, even if he didn’t exactly deserve it. When you positioned yourself between his legs, Chrollo drew his knees to his chest and fixed you with one of his unreadable expressions. Assuming that he meant that he was ready, you positioned the tip of the dildo against his asshole, and with a jerk of your hips, you slid in.

The reaction was immediate. You weren’t sure whether you’d somehow managed to hit his prostate on your first try, or perhaps Chrollo was just that big of a slut, but the moan that emanated from the man was absolutely shameless.

Experimentally you pulled out slightly, eliciting a whimper from the dark-haired man.

“You really are a cockslut, aren’t you?” The words tumbled unbidden from your lips before you had a chance to think about the consequences, but Chrollo only moaned in response. With a snap of your hips you drove back in, slamming into his prostate once again and eliciting yet another moan from the dark-haired man.

Confidence flowed through you as you moved, each thrust drawing out more cries of pained pleasure. After a while, the moans and cries became keens of need; it was obvious to you that Chrollo needed more. Needed it harder.

Naturally, you obliged. “You fucking love this, don’t you?” You taunted, deciding that you would degrade him now and face the consequences later. “Such a slut for this, Chrollo. Who’d have thought the leader of the Phantom Troupe would be so eager to have his ass stuffed?” The obscenities flowed from you with an almost unbelievable ease; in any other situation you’d be mortified, but something about seeing the leader of the Phantom Troup spread out before you like this did something to you. You decided then and there that you would fuck him into a panting, drooling mess.

The harder you fucked him, the closer Chrollo came to total ruin. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his cheeks were tinged pink, his lips swollen from how much he’d been biting them. His eyes were closed tightly; his face wet from tears. He was utterly gorgeous. He was close to coming, too; he’d been feverishly stroking himself with sharp, uneven pumps as you’d fucked into him. His cock was achingly, painfully hard; precum leaked from the flushed pink head. Yes, he was close. Too close.

You pulled out, thoroughly enjoying the needy whine that filled the room.

“H-hey,” Chrollo stuttered, opening his eyes.

“Hey what?”

“Why did you…?”

You smirked down at him. “Oh, you want me to keep fucking you?”

Chrollo huffed, his normal voice returning. “Obviously.”

You decided to push your luck. “Then beg.”

Chrollo’s eyes narrowed at your words. “______…” The way his voice shook betrayed his desperation.

“Beg.”

“Please.”

“Beg harder.” You shook your head in dissatisfaction, reaching down to stroke his well-fucked asshole with your finger.

Chrollo hissed when you slid your finger in again, his breath coming in shuddering pants. “Ah! F-fuck me!”

That was all you needed to hear. An instant later, your finger was replaced by the strap-on, and you were fucking into him again with fast hard thrusts.

Chrollo scrunched his eyes shut, a cacophony of “oh gods” and “fucks” falling from his lips with each thrust. His voice trembled as tears of pleasure streamed down his now-pink face. He reached down to stroke himself again, but you batted his hand away.

“No,” you ordered, secretly surprised that he gave in so easily. “I want you to cum just like this. Cum from getting fucked, like a good fucking slut.” You punctuated each word with a thrust, each one driving Chrollo closer to his inevitable release.

When he came, he came hard and loudly. His release spattered over his stomach, some even reaching the lower regions of his chest. You pulled out immediately, and Chrollo released his hold on his thighs, letting his legs flop down onto the bed.

With much more grace than when you’d put it on, you quickly unstrapped the harness and cast it to the side. Before Chrollo could fully recover from his orgasm, you’d straddled him, inching up his body before lowering yourself onto his face.

A small part of you was surprised when Chrollo’s tongue darted out to lick your clit; you’d assumed he’d be too fucked out to do anything, but Chrollo lapped at you, his hands coming up to squeeze the meat of your thighs as he did so.

You rocked against him, grinding your cunt against his face. Heat radiated from your core as his tongue drew circles against your clit. Chrollo’s grip on your thighs tightened to a bruising level as he licked you, and it was your turn to cry out. A swift swat to your ass silenced you, and Chrollo doubled his efforts, his tongue slowly but surely drawing your orgasm out of you.

You came undone when he flattened his tongue against your clit, and the room was filled with your own moans and sighs as you shook on top of him.

Chrollo’s grip weakened, and you took the opportunity to dismount from his face and fall onto the bed. Chrollo took the opportunity to grab a tissue and wipe himself off, grimacing at the mess he’d made. When he was reasonably satisfied with his cleanliness, he turned to you and fixed you with a cold stare.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” he murmured. He seemed to have recovered from his orgasm, as there was no trace of the panting, crying ruin of a man from ten minutes before. “It’s never happening again.”

“That’s fine,” you waved your hand dismissively, sure that he was bluffing. After all, how could he not be?

“And just so you know, ______,” Chrollo continued, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I don’t appreciate being called a… what was it? A cockslut, as you so poetically put it. I shall have to punish you later.” He rose from the bed and headed for the bathroom.

You turned away from him and smiled to yourself. You looked forward to it.

#smuttastic #chrollo lucilfer

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xbladekitkat85 · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Remember Now?

Summary: It's Peter's birthday and everyone is planning on a surprise when he wakes up. Except there's a huge problem. Peter's gone missing.

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, swearing, ANGST, mentions of dealing with grief.

A/N: I haven't really written angst before so I don't know how hard it's going to hit. I did tear up at one part while typing so maybe it's a bit heavy???

Peter's disappearance happened when everyone least expected it. It was the morning of his birthday, and all the heroes of the universe were going to be there. It would have been the first reunion in over 5 years where everyone was available to come, Asgardians and Guardians as well. Everyone was going to sneak into Peter's room to wake him up with a collective shout of "SURPRISE!" and pop an unnecessary amount of party poppers all over the room.

Tony peeked inside first to make sure that Peter was still asleep before beckoning everyone inside. But he felt a cold draft flowing from the crack between the door and the doorframe that shouldn't have been possible due to the picture windows.

He entered the room to find the window cut open and various items belonging to Peter scattered on the floor. There was no sign of Peter himself and the excited feeling that Tony had all morning quickly twisted into something he had felt only when Pepper had been taken years ago by Killian.

It was the feeling of debilitating fear.

Tony felt a wave of nausea hit him as various scenarios all ran through his head, each with Peter hurt, scared, or possibly even dead.

Pepper was the first to notice Tony hadn't come to get everyone. He came out of Peter's room after a few minutes more of waiting. But he wasn't acting like the excited father he was only moments before.

"Tony, what's wrong?" She asked, feeling anxiety building up with each second of silence.

Tony turned to look at everyone with a haunted look in his eyes. Pepper recognized it as the same expression he had when he had returned from space after fighting Thanos. Something was horribly wrong, and it had to do with Peter.

"Tony, talk to me. What's happening." Pepper asked gently despite the worry she felt.

"Peter's not there." He whispered hoarsely and turned to look at her. "Pep, we can't lose him again."

Morgan, Carter and Harley had heard what Tony said and they all felt a sharp stab of fear and worry. Morgan felt tears burning in her eyes, and buried her face in Carter's shoulder for a moment to compose herself. Carter held her close and stroked her hair while Harley walked into Peter's room to see it for himself.

Harley looked around the entire space. He checked the closet, the hammock near the ceiling, and the bathroom adjacent to Peter's room to no avail.

"FRIDAY, show me the tower's security activity from 11pm last night up until dad opened Peter's door." Harley requested.

But to everyone's shock, there was no familiar response of, "Sure thing boss." from the speakers throughout the tower.

FRIDAY was out of commission. That meant that somebody had been able to shut down an AI made by Tony Stark, which is no easy feat. This meant someone skilled was behind it and most likely planned the kidnapping with extreme scrutiny.

Nothing about the situation was remotely close to how everyone thought this day was going to go.

"We need to get Friday back online ASAP." Morgan shakily said. "If we are able to access the security cameras, there's a chance we might be able to find a clue."

Carter glanced at Morgan and saw the pain and worry in her eyes, and gently took her hand and squeezed it to reassure her. She squeezed it back to acknowledge his presence.

"Morgan, Harley, and Carter, come with me to my lab. Nat, you reach out to any contacts who may know something. Carol, this is a long shot, but I want you to ask off world allies if they have any clues as well." Tony ordered. "Everyone else start looking around the tower for clues of any sort. If you see anything remotely suspicious, make a note of it."

*Time skip*

Nobody had been able to find a trace of a clue regarding Peter's whereabouts.

Not any of Tony's extensive connections had an idea. Natasha's contacts hadn't heard any chatter about a kidnapping or hostage. Carol came up empty from every person she had asked but that wasn't unexpected.

Morgan had been back to school and Carter was supportive whenever she needed reassurance. But after a month of no news, or leads, she was starting to lose the little hope she had left. Peter would promise her before every mission, that he would come home safe and sound. But this time he hadn't come home. She didn't even know where he had gone.

Harley became fixated on building tracking devices, scanners, homing beacons, anything that could help find his brother. Harley had promised to always help Peter if he was in a pinch, regardless of how annoying he could be sometimes.

Tony had shut himself in his lab to fix FRIDAY and go through everything he could think of that could offer some sort of sign, a clue, a word, literally anything to bring Peter back home. He had invented time travel to bring him back so why couldn't he do something as simple as finding a clue? Peter would probably point out an error in his work that would solve his problem but now that wasn't possible.

Pepper busied herself by concentrating on running Stark Industries. Whenever she got the chance, she would drag Tony and Harley out of their labs to eat meals with her. God knows those two would forget to eat if nobody reminded them that food and water was an essential part of living. Peter would usually take care of that but since his disappearance, she took up the job.

Everyone felt a piece of their family was missing. But nobody said his name out loud, even though everyone thought about him.

It just hurt too much to hear his name knowing that by now he was likely dead. That he was never coming home.

And time would continue to pass, as the pain of losing Peter would too.

Until one day, on a mission, everything changed.

*6 months after Peter's disappearance*

HYDRA had suddenly resurfaced with no warnings whatsoever.

They had set off Tony's alert system designed to warn of threats, and a group immediately suited up. Having HYDRA stirring up trouble was never a good sign, especially since they were supposed to be gone. But as the saying goes, "Cut one head off, two more take it's place."

The team that had gone to check out the threat consisted of the original 6 Avengers as well as Harley, Bucky, Kate, and Wanda. Upon arriving at the location that had set off the alarm, they noticed that another group of people were there as well. One person among them in particular stood out to the OG Avengers. Before anyone could make a move, all the Avengers were suddenly knocked down, and tied up so they couldn't move.

"Hey, I found these guys lurking around. Who are they?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"Yo-Yo, you can let them go. We're friends. Well, at least most of us are, those three I haven't met. It's alright."

All the OG 6 Avengers felt a cold shock run through their bodies. That voice belonged to someone they thought was dead since the Battle of New York.

"Agent Coulson?" Tony asked in shock.

"It's former Director actually and yes, I'm alive." Coulson replied, as everyone was untied by Yo-Yo.

"There's no way." Natasha said as she stood up. "Fury would have said something sooner. And when were you Director of SHIELD?"

"I'm sorry, Nat, but he meant to keep it a secret from all of you. Me being resurrected." Coulson said with regret in his voice. "Said that if you knew, it would have distracted you from your goal."

"Steve, who is this guy?" Bucky asked in confusion.

Coulson's eyes widened in a very comical way when he noticed who had just spoken.

"Sergeant Barnes. It's an honor to meet you." He said, holding out a hand to shake.

Bucky took Coulson's hand to shake and noticed that his hand was not a real hand.

"Your hand... It's mechanical isn't it?" Bucky asked curiously.

"How much has happened with you since we last saw each other?" Steve asked.

"A lot. And we'll talk about it later after we take care of this HYDRA base. I assume that's why you're all here." Coulson said, gesturing to the other group.

"Yes, well, let's introduce the new members of our teams and then make a plan." Steve said.

Coulson informed his team of the change of plans. Everyone on Coulson's team met up for introductions.

"Daisy Johnson, aka Quake. She has the ability to manipulate natural vibrations as well as generate concussive blasts of vibrating air. Elena "Yo-Yo" Rodriguez. She is able to travel at superhuman speeds within the timeframe of a beat of her heart before she bounces back. Hence the nickname, Yo-Yo. Melinda May, expert martial artist, pilot and empath. Mack, Deke, and FitzSimmons are on the Bus right now. You'll meet them later."

Everyone on Tony's side acknowledged their names and took note of their abilities and powers.

"Ok, for the new faces on our side, we have Barnes, the Winter Soldier, who you already know, Wanda, she's got telekinesis and can read minds, Kate, she's Clint's protege, slash eventual replacement and Harley, my oldest kid, who built his own suit." Tony said, introducing the group.

Daisy leaned over to Yo-Yo.

"Tony Stark has kids?" She whispered.

"How the hell would I know?" She responded. "I'm not the former groupie member here."

Daisy glared half heartedly at her.

"I said it was one time!"

"Not my fault you got drunk and told me that story." She shot back.

"Hey, focus we're not here to argue." May interrupted. "We have a mission."

Everyone quickly formed a plan and they all entered the base.

Yo-Yo ran through the halls to assess the amount of security as well as any potentially dangerous weapons. When she was done, she gave the report to Coulson and Tony so they could split their team accordingly.

"May, Harley, Kate, Captain Rogers, Wanda, and I will be one group. Daisy, Yo-Yo, Nat, Clint, Sergeant Barnes, and Tony will be the other. " Coulson explained. "Dr. Banner will be here on comms just in case. I've synced the signal our comms travel on so we're on the same channel. We're going to be split up, so only call for help if necessary. We have about equal amounts of power on each side, so take advantage of every opportunity if need be. Let's go."

Everyone nodded and headed off with their respective groups to raid the base.

(A/N Tony's team will be written in bold and Coulson's team in regular text to avoid unnecessary writing)

Wanda lead the group through the hallways, with May taking out the first few guards easily. Coulson shot ICER bullets at the ones May couldn't focus on while Harley made sure every guard was unconscious. Cap and Kate ran ahead to scout out the next few corridors and the rest of the group quickly followed.

Daisy knocked down the first wave of guards and Yo-Yo tied all of them up while Nat, Clint, Tony and Bucky advanced deeper into the building. A group of guards wielding batons and handguns immediately appeared in their path, blocking the way. Clint shot arrows into the walls that released smoke to obscure the soldiers vision and aim. Tony took advantage of their disorientated state and used heat signature seeking taser blasts to knock them out.

Cap almost got a punch to the face while he rounded a corner but he leaned to the side, barley avoiding it. Kate quickly rushed in and used the man's momentum to flip him over her shoulder into the wall while Cap recovered and punched another soldier trying to attack Kate from behind.

"Thanks." She said, a bit out of breath.

"No problem. Incoming from both sides, get ready." He replied, standing nearly back to back with Kate.

"You got it, Cap." She said, readying her bow.

He threw his shield at the closest guard while Kate shot multiple electric arrows at the hallway in front of her, effectively creating a bolt of electricity that hit multiple targets. They quickly rotated in sync and they repeated the same attacks as before, with Cap taking out the last of the soldiers in his way and Kate knocking out hers.

Tony watched Yo-Yo as she sped forward to scout the next hallway. He couldn't help but think of Pietro Maximoff, and how similar their powers seemed to be. Of course, Yo-Yo bounced back while Pietro didn't. He just kept going forward and never looked back.

Before he could even blink she had returned to the group.

"There's about a dozen guards outside a set of reinforced double doors." She said. "They're guarding something important."

"That's why we're here though. HYDRA has some weapon or something they plan on using, right?" Daisy asked. "Why else would they have resurfaced?"

"It's never a good sign when there's that much security outside an already pretty secure door." Clint added.

"They couldn't have possibly made anything more dangerous than supersoldiers." Bucky muttered.

"I wouldn't put it past HYDRA to find a way to do it." Nat said. "We got to make a plan. We can't just charge in."

Coulson's group had reached the end of the last hallway on their side. There wasn't anything at all to take as evidence or to destroy.

"It can't just be a dead end." Coulson said in disbelief. "There's gotta be a secret door or something at least."

Harley snorted at his complaint.

"I mean that's would I would have done." Kate said thoughtfully. "There wasn't anything of importance on our side of the base. So it makes sense that there's something we're missing."

Cap walked forward and proceeded to rap his knuckles on the wall.

"Whatcha doing there Cap?" Harley joked. "Hoping the secret door will open if you politely knock?"

Cap had moved to the left wall and knocked on it as well.

"He's checking to see if any of the walls sound more hollow than the others." May interjected. "It's a smart idea. It could reveal a hidden room or passage that isn't visible to the naked eye."

Wanda turned to Harley with a raised brow.

"Hey, can't you scan through walls with your suit? That would make this go a lot faster." She asked sarcastically.

Harley froze and everyone turned to look at him.

"Yeah, that would have made this a lot easier." Coulson said wryly.

"I'll get on it." Harley said sheepishly.

He scanned all the walls around them and eventually started walking in another direction.

"This way. There's a room further this way that I can't see through with the scanner. It seems to be lined with lead, which means x-ray scanners won't do the job. Whatever we need to find must be there." He said.

Everyone quickly followed Harley's lead as he walked down the halls, eventually leading them to where the other group had gathered in front of heavy looking doors. The soldiers that had presumably been standing guard were incapacitated on the floor.

(End of bold/regular text switches)

The entire group was preparing to enter the room they stood in front of. Whatever HYDRA had been working on had to be here. Nowhere else in the building had anything significant and this was the final stop.

The door had a keypad that required a passcode as well as a biometric scan. Of course, they could try using the guards to try to pass the retinal scan but there wasn't any guarantee they had access. Of course, they had to deal with the code as well. Maybe physical force would work.

Tony scanned the door's material and found that it was capable of taking the strongest hit from his and Harley's suit combined.

"All right, does anyone else have any brilliant ideas on how to enter this room?" He asked "I don't have enough firepower for this door."

Coulson turned to Daisy and nodded his head.

"Do your thing." He said.

She rolled her eyes and approached the keypad to the door and forced the device to open, revealing circuit boards and wires.

"What is she doing?" Harley asked in confusion. "I thought she could blast through stuff?"

Daisy took out a small tablet and hooked it to the keypad, quickly typing out code and breaking through the security.

"You're lucky I still carry a tablet, Coulson. We would have been in trouble otherwise."

Tony was impressed and slightly scared of how fast she broke through HYDRA's mainframe of security. He made a mental note to update his security system as well as FRIDAY's firewalls.

After a couple minutes of rapid typing, the door opened with a hiss of cold air.

"Remind me to change all my passwords on my social media." Harley said to his suit's AI.

"All right, lets see what HYDRA has been working on." Coulson announced. "Prepare yourselves for anything."

They walked into the room and immediately, everyone noticed the change of temperature compared to the rest of the base.

FRIDAY informed Tony that it was 10 degrees in the room and understandably, everyone was shivering.

Tony walked a bit further and then stopped suddenly. He felt his blood run colder than the room itself.

Coulson had said to be prepared for anything but he clearly didn't have this in mind of the things he needed to steel himself for.

"Oh my god." Kate whispered. "Is it?"

"Peter?" Harley asked in disbelief.

Tony's son was in the corner of the room, curled up in the fetal position, and unresponsive to the world around him.

"FRIDAY, scan for any vital signs." Tony asked desperately.

"He's got a pulse, but I believe he may be in a comatose state. He is also dehydrated and malnourished."

Coulson's team didn't know who this Peter was, but they knew based on everyone else's reaction that he was someone who had been missing for a long time.

"FitzSimmons, do you read me?" Coulson said into his earpiece.

"Yes sir, what's wrong?" Jemma's voice replied.

"We need you to set up the medbay immediately. Get an IV drip sufficient for dehydration as well as malnutrition." Coulson ordered. "We also need heat lamps, if you got any."

"Right away sir." She replied.

Steve picked Peter up and everyone followed him out of the base, back to safety.

*Time skip to returning to New York*

Morgan had been in the middle of a meeting for student council when her watch buzzed. Although it wasn't unusual for that to happen, this time it was buzzing in a pattern that meant there was an emergency that she could not ignore.

"May I be excused to go to the bathroom?" She asked the teacher, who nodded her approval.

She grabbed the hall pass and made her way to the bathroom and checked to see what the message was.

The message was from Harley and what he had sent broken down the walls of composure she had been building for 6 months.

Morgan, we found Peter. We're almost back to the tower and mom's picking you and Carter up. We'll tell you more when you get here.

She sank to the floor and started to sob.

How was this possible?

Where had he been?

How was he alive?

Was he still alive?

More and more questions ran through her head and she finally calmed down enough to exit the bathroom without looking like she had just had a breakdown. When she walked back into the classroom she was handed a summons to leave early.

She arrived at the attendance office and Carter was already there, waiting for her with Pepper by his side.

They all hugged for a good long while and they all cried a bit before Happy started to drive to the tower to meet up with everyone.

"Mom? Is he alive?" Morgan asked hoarsely.

She was silent for a bit before replying.

"He's alive but he's in a coma of sorts."

"Do we know why?" Carter asked.

"Dad said it was extensive exposure to frigid temperatures and that the spider DNA caused him to hibernate because of it." She answered.

"Do we know when he's supposed to wake up?" Carter questioned.

"I don't know honey." Pepper said honestly. "We have to hope for the best."

Morgan felt her heart sink in her chest as they pulled into the parking garage.

Everyone got out as soon as the car was parked and rushed to the elevator.

"FRIDAY, take us to the medbay where Peter is." Pepper said.

"Right away miss." She replied.

They made it to the medbay in record time and rushed to Peter's bedside, where he was still asleep.

Morgan almost didn't recognize that it was Peter in the bed.

His face was unnaturally pale and gaunt and he had lost weight, his frame looking thinner and weaker because of it. His hair was longer than she had ever seen it before and was tangled in knots. He had multiple bruises scattered around his body that should have been healed.

Tony and Harley walked into the room soon after and Morgan hugged them both extra tightly as she let out months worth of fear and anxiety in the form of tears.

"Shhhh, Maguna, it's ok, he's home." Tony whispered. "Breathe, you have to breathe."

"I thought he was dead." She sobbed into his chest.

"I know, but he's here now, everything's going to be ok." Tony reassured her gently.

Carter and Pepper joined in the hug and they all comforted each other.

Peter was finally home, where he belonged.

And he was about to wake up from his slumber.

"Hello?" a voice said, cracking in the middle of the word. "Where 'm I?"

Harley turned his head towards Peter so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

"He's awake!" He said.

Everyone let go from the hug to gather around Peter's bed.

"Peter, are you ok? How do you feel?" Carter asked.

Peter turned to look at Carter.

"Who're you?" He asked confusedly.

Peter looked at all the people standing by his bed.

"Who are you guys?" He asked. "What am I doing here?"

Everyone's hearts collectively sank at his question.

Peter didn't remember anyone in this room. He couldn't recall his family. What had HYDRA done to him?

"Peter, we're your family." Morgan explained shakily. "I'm Morgan, your little sister. That's Harley, your brother, Carter, my boyfriend. That's mom and dad over there. Don't you remember at all?"

Morgan's voice broke as she asked him that question.

Peter looked at everyone's faces, one by one, trying his best to remember them but he couldn't. His memories were blank with a capital 'B'.

"Maybe photos or videos might help?" Carter offered weakly.

"FRIDAY pull up video footage from the folder, Family Shenanigans."

FRIDAY displayed footage from the timeframe that the Avengers were playing pool in the rec room.

Tony was on a team with Carter and Harley and Morgan were on the other. Peter and Pepper were watching them play from the side.

"Come on Harley, you can do better than that!" Tony teased as he put chalk on his cue stick. "Morgan's been carrying your team the whole game."

"No way, I've hit at least half of our balls in the pockets!" Harley protested, even though he knew he was spouting bullshit.

"I've done two behind the back shots and made them, how many have you done?" Morgan piped in, absolutely decimating Harley, the Roast King himself.

Everyone burst out laughing at her comeback and Tony immediately fell to the floor from laughter and pounded his fist on the ground.

Morgan had never seen her dad laugh so hard at something, let alone everyone else, including Natasha, who usually never let more than a chuckle out when she found something hilarious.

"WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON ANYWAY?!" Harley yelled at her over all the laughter.

"That's my sister!" Peter said proudly, with tears of laughter in his eyes.

Friday played other videos taken during random moments, as well as displaying photos. Everyone took turns explaining what had happened that day and why it was special. Peter asked questions here and there and everyone answered patiently and with extra detail to help.

Eventually, they had gone through the entire folder and Morgan glanced at Peter to see if there was a flicker of recognition at all.

"Do you remember now?" She asked him softly.

Peter had tears in his eyes as he answered.

"I'm so sorry." He said.

Morgan wanted to scream her heart out. He still didn't remember his family. She didn't know if he ever would.

"I've been gone so long, and HYDRA erased my memories. But you guys were able to find me before they could finish the job for good." He said, finishing what he had wanted to say. "I do remember you guys. I can't believe I ever forgot how much everyone here means to me."

Pepper let out a gasp as she nearly tackled him in a hug. Everyone felt a huge weight lift from their shoulders as Peter laughed weakly at everyone's faces.

"Peter, don't you ever scare us like that again!" Harley scolded with tears running down his face.

"That was a shitty thing to do, seriously." Carter said, annoyed but mostly relieved that Peter was back.

"Peter, never forget how much we love you." Tony said, wiping a tear away from his cheek.

"I can't believe you're back." Morgan said, smiling despite the fact she was still crying a bit.

"I'm here, and I won't be leaving you guys like that again." Peter replied. "I mean, I'm bedridden at the moment anyway."

Everyone groaned at his joke before a group hug formed around Peter.

Everything was as it should always have been.

A/N: Here's a little fun fact about this chapter, the part where Morgan roasts Harley is based on something that happened within my family a couple years ago. In my family's version, I was on a team with my cousin and my dad and another cousin were on the other team. The dialogue is basically word for word what happened. I roasted my cousin, and my everyone started laughing, and my dad literally fell to the floor and was pounding his fist on the ground.

Taglist: @frostedgiant

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beetlebitchywitch · 4 years ago

Text

Zhuk (Mafia Beej!AU The Conglomerate) x F!Reader: Homecoming

Well my dears, it has been awhile. My first semester of grad school is about to come to a close and I feel bad that I haven’t written in so long. So, I decided to post a commission I wrote a WHILE ago for @yankyo, starring everyone’s favorite Russian mafia man, Zhuk. I hope you all enjoy it!

P.S. I usually tag these fics with beetlejuice stuff since these boys are based off of Beetlejuice and share traits with him and stuff, but if people think I shouldn’t, let me know. I wouldn’t wanna clog the tags with stuff people don’t want to see, but I wanna make sure the people that do wanna read it can find it easily. If anyone has any suggestions or anything, I’m all ears!

WARNING: NSFW. Rough sex, brat taming, anal sex, dirty talk, slight degradation/humiliation, aftercare. MINORS DNI

The mirror reflected a devious picture come one warm, muggy, infuriatingly quiet night at the estate. Her gaze traveled up her reflection, starting at her feet clad in strappy black heels that she still managed to be short in despite their impressive height. Her legs looked absolutely incredible in her favorite pair of fishnet stockings, held in place by the garters connected to her lacy black panties that perfectly cupped her ass. Paired with a black leather chest harness that fully exposed her breasts and a matching collar adorned with silver chains that dripped luxuriously across her skin, she looked like every straight man with a pulse’s wet dream. She turned slowly, looking herself over carefully for any imperfections. If tonight was to go as she had planned it, she needed to be perfect, not for her husband, but for herself.

Her husband. She couldn’t help but scowl as the memory of him leaving her for a business trip entered her mind, a curt kiss on the forehead the only goodbye she received from him before he was off, chattering away in Russian on his phone as if she didn’t exist. It was the third time that month that he’d left her to rush off to Europe on some important business he refused to tell her about, and tonight was the night he was due to arrive home. The others had kept her company, of course, but they all could tell how much his supposed disregard for her had gotten under her skin, and far be it from them to tell her how to feel. They did what they could, keeping her occupied and loved with time spent drowning in liquor and laughter, but they all knew that there was nothing they could do to replace the attention of Zhuk while he was away. But tonight...well, tonight that attention was going to be all for her.

With a smirk, she turned away from the mirror, striding confidently out of her bedroom and down the empty hall. The others had retreated to their rooms for the night, knowing full well what hell would likely be unleashed upon them if they dared to interrupt her master plan. The only sound that accompanied her was the satisfying click of her stilettos on the stairs as she descended into the foyer, momentarily surprised that not even Bajo had snuck out of his room for a quick look at her all dolled up. Her thoughts were quickly dispelled at the sound of the magnificent front doors being unlocked, quickly swinging open to reveal none other than Zhuk...speaking rapidly on his cell phone in Russian.

It took everything in her not to scream at the top of her lungs as he sped past the foyer and into the kitchen after only briefly meeting her gaze, not even sparing her a second glance as he barked unhappily in his native tongue. Whoever was on the other end must’ve been getting an earful, but Y/N simply couldn’t give two shits what they were being scolded for. Here she was, standing in the middle of the room with her fucking tits out, and her husband didn’t even notice, too wrapped up in his business like he always was. She could feel the frustrated tears building in her eyes, suddenly feeling utterly ridiculous for planning all of this in the first place if he wasn’t even going to care enough to spare her a passing glance. Before she could continue spiraling into self-pity, she heard a soft gasp from her left and looked up to see Zhuk, cell phone held loosely in hand and his mouth agape at the sight of her. If anything, his delayed reaction only served to anger her more, feelings of inadequacy and loneliness and sadness swirling around in her stomach as his gaze shamelessly raked up and down her body.

“Moya zhena,” he sighed wistfully, pocketing his cell phone and taking a few steps closer to where she stood at the base of the stairs. “You are...could this all be for me?” At that, she scowled, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“It could’ve been,” she snapped, not even finding it in her to care when he flinched at her angry tone. “But you’ll probably just be too busy, right? Maybe I should book you another plane ticket back to Moscow, since you’ll just ignore me while you’re here anyway.” Zhuk paused, seemingly taking in everything she’d said and trying to determine what to do next, but the long silence made Y/N shift uncomfortably where she stood, suddenly feeling far too exposed as she used her hands to cover herself.

“...Darling, where is this coming from?” he asked slowly, though she could hear him struggling to maintain his patience with her outburst. No, no, he didn’t get to be angry, because now it was her goddamn turn to be pissed at him and she wasn’t going to let him take that from her, not for a second.

“What do you care?” she spat, reaching down to angrily undo her heels and slip out of them, tossing them carelessly to the side before covering herself up again. “Sooner or later, you’ll just be gone again, or you’ll come back and be too busy with your phone to notice your wife is in fucking lingerie, so do us both a favor and just get it over with now so I don’t have be disappointed again!” And with that, she spun on her heel and ran back up the stairs, ignoring the sound of his heavy footfall behind her as she rushed back to her room and slammed the door behind her, quickly locking it and sliding down the wood, sitting herself on the ground and trying to maintain her composure despite Zhuk quickly pounding on the door.

“Y/N, let me in!” he demanded, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he could but goddammit, he was stressed and tired and this wasn’t what he was expecting to come home to, even if it was his fault for being so busy. .

“Bite me!” she called back, not even caring how much trouble she’d likely land herself in for being so disrespectful. She was hurt, she was angry, and she didn’t give two flying fucks about him or his rules. She heard him snarl under his breath and smirked victoriously, suddenly growing more confident knowing that she could get under his skin. “Well, you could’ve, if you hadn’t been fucking blind.”

“I will break down this door,” he growled, tugging aggressively at the doorknob to no avail. “You know damn well that your anger does not excuse bad behavior. Now be a good girl and let me in.”

She was tempted, for a moment. Perhaps he’d apologize, hold her close, treat her right, the way he should’ve from the very beginning...but did she want to give in that easily? After all he put her through, didn’t he deserve to have to fight for what he wanted? Didn’t he deserve to wait as long as he made her wait? ...She couldn’t, could she? But hearing his frustrated muttering in Russian and his impatient pacing in front of her door...her decision was already made. She crawled away from the door to settle at the base of her bed, facing the door with her back against the edge of the mattress and slowly spreading her legs. Her fingers dipped below the waistband of her panties and down towards her pussy, and the hiss of pleasure she let out as she began to circle her clit got Zhuk quiet, his pacing coming to an abrupt halt.

“...What are you doing?” he asked, his voice hushed like the calm before a storm. She replied only with a soft moan. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she replied cheekily, her words cutting off with a soft gasp because fuck, this felt so good. She hadn’t let any of the others touch her while Zhuk was away, never finding herself quite in the mood for that kind of distraction, so it had been several days without this kind of touch and as badly as she wanted it from him, teasing him while he was helpless to stop her was simply sublime.

“Think carefully now, dragotsennyy,” he growled, once again pawing uselessly at the door once more before pushing away from it with a frustrated snarl. “You can’t hide in there forever, and if you keep this up, I swear on the motherland that you will wish you were never born.”

A shiver ran through her at the way he growled his threats at her, but the longer she got away with it, the more powerful she felt. There he was, an incredibly powerful demon that could break her in half with one hand if he wanted to, and he was at her mercy. The pleasure swirled together with the self-satisfaction to have her throwing her head back with laughter interspersed with pleasured gasps.

“I already wish I was never born, that’s not much of a threat!” she retorted teasingly, letting one finger dip down to circle her entrance before pressing inside her. She moaned loudly, putting on as much of a show for her poor husband as she could. “Fuck, it feels so good! Don’t you wish it was you inside me, muzh? Oh well, too bad.”

She quickly slipped another finger inside her, losing herself to the satisfaction of knowing that she was winning...she thought. But Zhuk was being strangely quiet. No pounding on the door, no jiggling the doorknob, not even a swear in Russian beneath his breath. It’s almost as if he’d left...but he wouldn't have. Not now, not again. She paused her ministrations, listening intently for any sign of hi-

CRASH.

In an instant, she was lifted off of the floor, her husband’s hand wrapped firmly around her throat with her toes just barely scraping the ground. She gripped uselessly at his ironclad grip, struggling against him to no avail. His hair was a wild mixture of burning crimson and vibrant magenta, though his eyes were all anger, smoldering with an ire that was just ready to ignite. Her eyes traveled behind him, where she saw the remains of her door, hanging pathetically from its hinges.

“I did tell you I would break down the door,” he said darkly. She couldn’t respond, not with his grip around her throat supporting her entire body weight- she gasped desperately for air when he dropped her to the floor, landing solidly on her knees at his feet. “Now...we’re going to try this again. Was this all for me, malen'kiy?”

Y/N stared up at him defiantly, keeping her mouth firmly shut despite knowing that there was no way he’d let her get away with it. Indeed, it only took a few seconds of petulant silence for him to tangle his fingers tightly in her hair, tugging harshly and wrenching a yelp from her throat.

“Fine,” he spat, using his free hand to quickly undo his belt and lower his zipper, freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. “I’ll put your mouth to better use, then.” He let go of her hair, but far from showing her mercy, he instead thrust his fingers into her mouth, prying it open forcefully before guiding his cock past her lips, groaning with satisfaction as he pushed himself all the way down her throat, stopping only when her nose was nestled firmly against his groin. He held her there until her eyes began to tear, but she held firm, keeping herself from gagging despite the impressive length of him pushing so far into her throat that her neck bulged. Finally, after far too long, he pulled back, giving her only a moment to rest before picking up a brutal pace, fucking her face as if it were only a toy. The feeling of his cock repeatedly plunging down her throat sent her mind spinning, and despite the defiance she so desperately clung to, she could feel the comfortable weight of submission slowly beginning to settle over her. She held still like a good girl, keeping her teeth back and mouth as wide open as she could no matter how badly her jaw ached. The longer he fucked her face like this, the more desperately she desired to be his perfect girl, her brattiness momentarily seeping out of her in favor of obedience. She missed this. Below her anger was a longing that caused her to miss him so terribly that she ached, and even if he was punishing her for her misbehavior, at least he was here. At least she was his. And there it was, the pleasant fuzziness that came with her submission, just on the edges of her awareness as he clutched desperately at her hair and took her mouth with utter brutality. She would be lucky if her throat didn’t ache come tomorrow morning.

“Kakaya khoroshaya shlyukha, berushchaya moy chlen,” he snarled, letting himself have only a few more seconds of her mouth before pulling out completely, still holding her by the hair while he frantically stroked his cock. “Mouth open, tongue out.”

She obeyed, as if she had much of a choice, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and her eyes slipping shut as she waited for, there it was, the warm feeling of his cum sticking to her skin, some landing on her exposed tongue but also clinging to her lips and even the tip of her nose. Knowing better than to swallow without permission, she held herself still, opening her eyes to watch the tail end of his orgasm before meeting his gaze obediently, allowing him to enjoy the sight of her covered in his cum. And enjoy it he did, taking several seconds to paint a mental picture of his wife marked so perfectly before letting go over her hair and moving to remove his pants. “Clean yourself up,” he commanded almost carelessly.

She obeyed immediately, swallowing what was already on her tongue before using her fingers to clean the rest from her face, swallowing it dutifully. As she came back to herself after such an intense experience, her desire for revenge mixed with her overwhelming need to submit to his control as well as oil and vinegar. She wanted him to take her until she didn’t even remember why she was angry, but she also wanted to send him packing for ruining her perfect plans, and she wasn’t sure which desire was stronger.

“On the bed,” he commanded, striding over to toss any extra decorative pillows to the floor. Her opposing desires swirled angrily in her mind, but despite the fuzziness at the edges of her vision that so often came with her willing submission, she stayed put, staring defiantly down at the ground. When Zhuk realized she had no intention of moving, he strode over to her slowly, now fully nude and his cock already beginning to reharden.

“Is this the game you would like to play tonight, moya zhena?” he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of his dominance. She shivered at his tone, but held her tongue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her perfect obedience. “Because I have no problem with reminding you whose orders you’re meant to obey. Or have I left you alone so long that you’ve forgotten?”

Her scowl only grew at the reminder that yes, he had left her alone too long, so this is exactly what he deserved. If he wanted her, he was going to have to be a big boy and take her.

“Here are your options, dragotsennyy,” he said, almost too calmly. “You can obey me, as you are meant to, and climb willingly onto your bed. Or I could drag you up by the hair. Which will it be?”

Knowing this may be her last chance to speak, she lifted her head to smile petulantly at him, using every last ounce of brattiness left in her.

“I’ll take what’s behind Door Number 2.”

A man of his word, he fisted her hair with a snarl, showing no mercy as he dragged her up off the floor and onto her bed, paying no mind to her yelps of pain as he tossed her unceremoniously onto the mattress. He wasn’t far behind, pressing her down against the pillows and letting one hand trail tantalizingly down her body.

“You dressed up so pretty for me, dorogoy,” he crooned in her ear, giving the lobe a nip. “It’s a shame you won’t get to wear this again.”

Before she could even protest, he was on a rampage, tearing into her panties with a feral snarl and ripping them off her body with his teeth, setting the ruined garment aside to reveal her pussy, already dripping wet and ready for him. But he wasn’t done. He gripped tightly at her stockings, tearing them to shreds with inhuman strength and littering the bed with tiny scraps of fishnets. Deciding to show a sliver of mercy, he undid her harness rather than tear it off her and tossed it aside, leaving her completely bare and soaking wet for him. She grumbled under her breath knowing some of her favorite garments were ruined, but she couldn’t think about that, not when Zhuk was roughly wrenching her thighs apart and trailing his fingers between her folds, gathering her slick on the tips of his fingers with a hum.

“Aww, and to think you acted so tough,” he mused, chuckling to himself when she shivered at his touch. “Would you like to see how wet you are for me, moya zhena?”

Expecting his fingers, she balked when he reached for her ruined panties, having soaked them through from how wet she became from getting her face fucked. Zhuk balled them up and, not willing to wait for her to open her mouth, wrenched her lips open with two fingers pressing down on her tongue, quickly replacing them with her soiled panties and giving her a quick slap to her cheek for good measure, leaving behind a trail of her spit. She yelped around her panties, already tasting just how wet she’d become from the beginning of her punishment and blushing darkly at the shame of it all. Satisfied, Zhuk moved back down her body, pulling her thighs apart roughly to reveal her dripping pussy and sighing at the sight of it, aching for him to just slide inside of her. But...he had a better idea.

“I don’t think I want to fuck such a slutty pussy,” he mused to himself, though it didn’t stop him from running his thumb between her folds and chuckling when she struggled to keep herself from whining in protest. “Aww, does my little brat want me inside her? Don’t fret, malenk’iy, you’ll still have me…” He trailed off, dragging his slick-soaked fingers up to circle the puckered rim of her ass. Realizing what he meant, she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a long, low moan, arching her ass up and grinding back against his teasing touch. Still, he kept it light, just barely circling her entrance with the tips of his fingers. “...but only if you beg.”

Fuck. She growled under her breath in frustration, her panties already growing more soaked from her saliva. How did he expect her to beg with her panties in her mouth? Thinking about it for a moment, her cheeks grew red as she realized what he wanted, but...there was nothing that would keep her from having him inside her.

“Please…” she whined, her words muffled as she struggled to speak around the lace filling her mouth.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you, shlyuka.”

“Please, muzh, I want you…”

“Louder!”

“Please!” she yelled around her gag, blushing furiously at the sound of her muffled words. Still, it seemed to be enough for Zhuk, as he hummed in satisfaction to himself and quickly plunged one finger inside of her, hissing at the feeling of her tight walls clenching around him. She gasped loudly, trailing off to a reedy whine as she ground back on his finger, already desperate for more. He plunged his finger in and out of her before quickly adding another, spreading them apart to get her nice and stretched for him. A steady stream of whines and moans fell from her lips, muffled only slightly by her panties as the tips of his fingers stroked at her sensitive walls. When he thought she’d had enough, he pulled them out, cooing almost condescendingly at the way she whined in protest.

“Patience, dorogoy,” he said almost mockingly, reaching into the bedside table to pull out a bottle of lube and quickly getting himself slicked up for her. “Or is my little slut truly that desperate for me?”

She couldn’t deny it. That fuzziness on the fringe of her vision had grown, her submission fully settling over her enough that she was desperately needy for him. She would crawl on her hands and knees across the entire estate just to have his cock inside her. She settled down onto her elbows, making sure her ass was presented for him, and kept silent, not wanting to speak unless he truly asked her to. From now on, he was in control.

“That’s what I thought,” he growled, quickly lining his cock up with her entrance. “Deep breath for me now, kotenok…”

She inhaled deeply, and when he finally began to push inside of her, she released it with a desperate moan. Fuck, the stretch was perfect, his cock practically splitting her in half as he slid inside her without mercy, not stopping for a single second until he was fully hilted inside her, his hips pressed firmly up against her ass.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl,” he hissed, struggling to keep himself still. He may have had to show her her place, but he still cared enough for her wellbeing not to start rutting her without giving her a moment to adjust. He leaned down, pressing the length of his chest to her back and whispering directly in her ear as he slowly began to move his hips. “This is what happens to naughty little brats who disobey. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she moaned around her gag, grinding back against his cock to encourage him to just take her. He gave in, starting up a quick, hard rhythm that had the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust, but God, it wasn’t enough. “Please, harder!”

“Ohhhh no,” he growled, keeping his pace just shy of where she desperately needed it to be. “I don’t reward bad behavior, shlyuka. You want it that badly? Then I better hear you say you’re sorry.”

If he’d asked her to 20 minutes ago, he would’ve been met with stony silence, but now, he’d so expertly taken down her walls and sent her so deep into subspace that she couldn’t stop herself if she tried.

“I’m sorry!” she cried out, trying in vain to grind back harder against the cock that she needed so badly. “I’m sorry I was bad, I’m sorry I teased you, please, just-ah!”

There it was. Hearing those magic words, Zhuk simply snarled and buried his face into her neck, finally reaching the pace she craved. Every thrust inside her was like heaven, every nerve in her body alight with pleasure as her husband growled obscenities into her ear, taking her like an animal in heat. This, this was what she needed all goddamn week.

“There’s my good girl,” he moaned directly into her ear, tangling his fingers in her hair just to wrench her head back to expose her neck. “Are you going to cum for me?”

Desperately, she nodded, reaching down to circle her fingers around her clit. Immediately, Zhuk slapped her hand away, replacing it with his own and pulling desperate yet muffled cries from her lips. Fuck, so close, just a little more-

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Let me feel my good little slut cum around my cock.”

That was it. Her body gave in to the command, her orgasm rushing over her like a wave of heat hitting every nerve in her body, a desperate scream wrenching from her throat as she trembled in his arms. Zhuk fucked her through it, grunting with each thrust before reaching his own climax, spilling into her with a quiet groan. Out of breath, shaky, and blissed out beyond belief, Y/N collapsed onto the mattress, barely even feeling when Zhuk pulled out of her, his cum rushing hotly down her pussy and onto the mattress. Ignoring it completely, he moved up to pull her into his arms, letting her rest against his broad chest. He doted on her as much as he could, guiding her soaked panties out of her mouth and tossing them aside before pressing a soft kiss to her lips and petting her hair, just wanting her to know that he was there. Slowly, she came back to herself, her eyes sliding open to see her husband smiling softly down at her.

“Are you alright now, moya lyubov?” he asked softly. With a smile, she nodded, nuzzling into him lovingly. When he sighed almost despondently, she looked back up at him with concern, finding remorse shining in his eyes. “You were right. I’ve been neglecting you too much lately, and I promise you that I won’t be rushing off on a business trip any time soon. That didn’t give you an excuse to misbehave, but I’m sorry that I made you feel as if you had to act out to get my attention.” With a soft smile, Y/N leaned up to kiss his cheek, nuzzling against him before settling back on his chest.

“Apologize again to me in the morning,” she said, her words interrupted with a yawn. “I might’ve forgotten by then...”

And with that, she drifted off to sleep, comforted by the fact that finally, finally, her husband was home.

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