#that man is hot let me beckon him inside and force him to smell a candle and perhaps offer him some keychains
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we rewatched the episode last night and it is very good overall it's literally just eddie's thing that's stupid lmao. i have come to the conclusion that probably nothing that actually happens in this season is going to matter in the long run, only the end result, so i'm making peace with the shitty ass storytelling and will only be considering unhinged speculation from now on
#on rewatch the doppelganger thing honestly did not feel like it was being treated as heavy or dark or fucked up as all the spec is making it#out to be honestly it literally does just feel soapy. however we were genuinely fucking wheezing over the eddiekim meeting#it is objectively really funny that she saw him having an issue outside of her Knick Knacks For Women Boutique Store and was like#that man is hot let me beckon him inside and force him to smell a candle and perhaps offer him some keychains
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Early October. To say that the weather is wonderful today is a blatant lie. Autumn has just begun, and endless rains are already terrorizing the city with might and main, washing away the streets and loudly knocking on the windows of houses.
Fortunately, the small office of “Devil May Cry” was cozy. There is heat, there is light, there is water, hot pizza is served to the table - and Dante doesn’t need anything more to be happy.
Opening the next box, the hunter broke into a blissful smile. The hunter’s nose was filled with the delicious aroma of cheese, and the golden brown crust beckoned…
At this time, a real hurricane broke out outside the window. The rain began to drum with double force, convincing with all its appearance that staying at home in your bed was the best idea that could ever come to mind.
The sound of rain reminded Dante of uninvited guests. They come without an invitation, knocking, wanting to enter. They get angry - lightning flashes in the sky, everything calms down. And then it starts again from the beginning, and so on in a circle.
As soon as the man relaxed, a bell rang and the door to the building opened, letting the cold inside. The sound of the rain became louder, and the room was instantly filled with the smell of dampness and gasoline.
"You could put your office in a better place than on the over side of the sity, you know?"
"You ruined my date, you know?" Dante answered with a smile, pointing to a box of fast food.
"Oooh, I'm sorry!” Morrison said seriously, “In fact, I came to inspect the building as its future owner.”
Noticing the surprise in Dante's eyes, the guest explained: “Just in case. You yourself asked.”
“Go ahead,” the son of Sparda casually waved his hand, “you still won’t find anything interesting.”
"I’ll try." information broker muttered quietly, climbing the stairs to the second floor.
As soon as the footsteps above died down, a playful smile touched Dante's lips.
"Well, shall we continue?" he whispered, taking out a piece of slightly cooled pizza. Even though such a long-awaited romantic meeting was ruined for them, nothing can stop true feelings.
But…
The bell rang again. In truth, today, Friday evening, Dante was ready to curse this damn bell and everyone who comes through these damn doors.
Looking at the visitor, the hunter raised an eyebrow in surprise. A young girl stood in front of him. The gray coat barely covered her knees, dressed in black nylon, and the stranger’s face was hidden by the hood.
The guest lightly shook off the wet umbrella and reached for her headdress.
"Are you Dante? " you asked, approaching the table. The man sighed heavily and put down the pizza, which had long cooled down.
"It depends on who asks."
After introducing yourself, you hand Dante a small stack of papers.
"I would like to offer you one thing."
The son of Sparda quickly skimmed the text and then closed his eyes tiredly.
"Sorry, baby, but I don’t take on family dramas. I have enough of my own."
"But… you are a demon hunter!" you exclaim, removing a strand of hair that stuck to your face. "Isn't this your job?"
“As I said…” Dante stopped mid-sentence. The lights in the entire building suddenly went out, and the radio went silent with a click.
Footsteps were heard again from the second floor.
"Damn you, Dante!" Morrison shouted. "Are you not paying your bills again?!"
"You are the future owner! But there hasn’t been normal work for a long time, and whose fault is it?" the gray-haired man shouted back.
Gradually your eyes got used to the darkness and, finally, you were again able to see the owner of the office in front of you. He sat with his head bowed and seemed to be thinking about something. He hesitates. It only took you a couple of seconds to realize that this was your chance.
“What a pity,” you drawl playfully, carefully sitting down on the edge of the table, “but if you helped me, I would pay generously. What should you do…"
The guest slowly pushed the papers right under Dante's nose, waiting for a reaction. There was a quiet chuckle, the man took a deep breath and raised his head. The darkness still shrouded his silhouette, but you saw one thing very clearly. Sparks in his eyes.
“Stubborn,” he grins, getting up from his chair. The man rests his hands on the table and, leaning forward, looks you straight in the eyes "we agreed."
#devil may cry#dmc dante#dante devil may cry#dmc 5#dante x reader#dante x you#writeblr#writing#writers on tumblr
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Hello! I would love to request an Argyle x reader fic! Something along the lines of the reader is having a bad day. Little things are going wrong and it's upsetting them. They are avoiding Argyle because they don't want him to see them like that all the while Argyle is just worried about them. Thank you! 😊
this was supposed to be a drabble but i couldn't help myself, i love argyle so much
when you open your eyes, it's 10:31 am. you're an hour late for work.
fuck.
as you sit up in your bed, a headache kicks in at full force.
of course.
when you pull your blankets off of your legs, it feels like it's freezing in your room.
a fever too?
you rush to put your surfer boys' uniform and head out the door, despite your eyes burning, and forget to brush your hair. when you start your car, you radio's volume is still cranked to the max from your drive home from argyle's last night.
"god damn it," you startle at the music's volume as you quickly adjust the dial.
on your drive to work, your window won't crank down, as if something in the door is jammed.
perfect.
you're stuck in your car that reeks like stale pot smoke, with no way to air it out. you're gonna smell like bong water all day while you serve pizza, with a migraine and a fever.
to make matters even worse, when you pull into surfer boy, you veer into a parking spot and you can see your coworkers rushing around inside. they're short staffed becos of you. you didn't come in on time, and they're gonna be dicks about it all day.
fuck, is it monday? argyle has today off. now you're sure this shift isn't going to have an upside.
as you step out of your car, like a cherry on top of this wonderful morning, your belt loop catches on your door handle.
becos of fucking course it does.
after yanking yourself free from the door and slamming it shut, causing your head to throb even worse, you make your way into surfer boy pizza.
your boss, mitch, who usually sits in back of house doing crosswords, is working register. he doesn't look happy in the slightest. after ringing up a customer, he turns to you.
"y/n, how sweet of you to join us today!" he beams in irony. "and only... an hour and some change late."
he leans toward you and sniffs.
"you're... joking, y/n. you come in this late, you smell like woodstock took a shit and put a t shirt on it, eyes half open?"
you stare sheepishly up at him.
"my alarm clock, the batteries, they--"
"you're fired, y/n. sorry, this is just unacceptable."
"kay, i guess. want the shirt back?"
he scoffs.
"no, thanks. not smelling like bob marley."
"cool, awesome," you trail. "needed some more yellow in my wardrobe anyway."
before you even make it to your car, hot tears begin pouring from your eyes.
you pull your car door open and throw yourself into the driver's seat. you slam your door out of anger and it sends a shockwave of pain throughout your skull, beckoning more tears to flow down your cheeks. your eyes burn as you blink hard and buckle your seatbelt. you drive home in silence, with no music to mask the sound of your pathetic sniffles and sobs.
"fuck," you sigh to yourself, as you pull into your driveway.
with a few deep breaths, you manage to compose yourself enough to walk inside your house, up to your room without sobbing.
you can hear the phone ringing, but you're locked in your bed. your eyes still burn when you blink. the phone stops ringing and your answering machine picks up the call.
"hey, y/n, it's me dude, argyle. wonderin' what's goin' on, man. didn't hear from ya before your shift so i drove over to--"
the machine stops playback.
oh, ari. your very best friend. you catch yourself grinning at the sound of his voice. he's so goofy, in a way that is devastatingly charming.
god, he can't see me like this.
all sweaty, and crying, and sick, a ratsnest for hair. he wouldn't know how to handle it or react, you're sure of it.
he won't mind if i just call back tomorrow.
you reason with yourself.
i just can't let him see me like this.
you start "the karate kid" on the tv in your room. you begin braiding your hair in attempt to pull yourself together, but you're interrupted.
the phone rings again. you feel guilty, but you let it ring. the answering machine eventually picks up again.
"y/nnnnn," he sings into the phone. "as i was sayin', i drove by surfer boy and didn't see you on register, figured you're sick or somethin'. anyway, i'm--" the machine stops playback again.
he thinks you're sick, and you kind of are. but the guilt of not answering is eating you alive at this point. he just wants to hear from you. you decide you have to call back, at least to explain what's been going on. you change into your coziest pajamas and head downstairs to grab the phone.
as you round the corner of the stairs, you inhale a familiar smell. cologne, mixed with purple palm tree delight. a tapping ensues on your front screen door. you peek around the corner to be met by argyle, holding a pack of soda water cans in one hand and a can of campbells chicken noodle soup in the other, a freshly picked daisy between his lips.
"hey, man, open up!" he laughs through his pursed lips.
you open the door and start to empty his arms for him.
"ari, what're you doing here?" you ask, setting the soup and sodas on the floor inside.
"told you on the phone, man. on the answering thing. said i was stoppin' over with feel-better stuff." he offers you the daisy, beaming.
"i heard your calls, dude, i just felt--" you take the flower. "thank you-- i felt embarrassed 'cos i've been crying all day and feeling sorry for myself. you can come in."
he finally gets a good look at you when he comes inside.
"aw, y/n, what's gotcha all torn up? it's just a belly ache, isn't it? i know it sucks, but you'll feel better once you have some soda water and soup." he leans to hug you.
"it's not a stomach ache, ari. i got fired today. and i have a migraine the size of china right now, it's been all day. nothing went right for me today, since the second i woke up. from the second i opened my eyes," you start to well up.
his eyes grow more understanding and deeper with every word you speak.
"nothing was getting better no matter what. i didn't want you to see me like this. i know that sounds so cliche and stupid, but i was just embarrassed."
he looks down at your shaking hands and back up at your eyes.
"aw, y/n, sweetheart, c'mere." he pulls you into the warmest and most comforting hug he's ever offered to you.
"c'mere, angel. aw, man. i feel so stupid bringin' you stomach ache shit thinkin' you're sick."
you sniff into his chest.
"'s'okay, ari. you didn't know."
he walks into the kitchen and beckons for you to follow.
"we're makin' the soup anyway. got any headache pills, man? nothin' serious, just the regular stuff."
"cupboard above your head, doofus. you know i don't do real drugs."
he smiles and hands you a pill and pops open a can of soup.
"bowls? the eatin' kind."
you point above the microwave and wipe your nose with your sleeve.
"sorry i'm such a mess," you sigh.
"ah, who cares if ya wanna feel sorry for yourself for a day?" he puts the bowl of soup in the microwave. "was really worried about you though, dude. missed ya pickin' up the phone an' sayin' 'whaddaya want, ari?' and tellin' me to get my ass over here."
he smiles warmly and looks to be deep in thought before he's interrupted by the microwave's beeping.
"there we go, soup!" he pulls the microwave open and grabs ahold of the bowl. you giggle as he feigns pain from the heat.
"no laughin, y/n. coulda gotten third degree burns for you," he laughs.
"oh, i'm forever in your debt, chef argyle," you tease.
"better be, man. meltin' my fingers off so you can have some wet noodles and cubes of chicken. lucky i love you, man."
you laugh. he is so charming. he just made you a bowl of soup you didn't even need, and you could've done it yourself.
"let's get you upstairs, sweet girl, and we'll get you nice and high. we'll even put on 'the karate kid' like we do when you're sad."
"already got it cued up in my room," you smile.
the two of you walk up the stairs and make your way onto your bed. he hands you your bowl of soup carefully as you sit cross-legged atop your blankets.
"thank you, ari. for everything today."
he grabs at strands of your hair and begins a braid.
"anythin' for my y/n. this okay?" he tugs lightly at your hair.
"of course. nobody can braid my hair as well as you."
the two of you get lost in ralph macchio as his fingers twirl in and out of your hair. you happily eat your soup and soak in the feeling of having a best friend who would do anything he could to cheer you up.
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Chemical Romance
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Summary: Chris won’t have you running away from him. You’re his. He owns your heart, and now he’ll own all of you.
Words: 4.5k
Warnings: RPF, smut, slight dubcon(ish), jealous and possessive Chris, toxic relationship, recording without permission, forced marriage
A/N: I wrote this months ago and pulled it out to share it with my bestie @donutloverxo . Berry finally convinced me to post this and helped me beta this. Babe, I love you!
You were way past your teenage years, and yet you had the urge to giggle like one. If you licked your lips, you could still taste the trace of wine that had stained his lips. The memory of them pressing against you, brushing gently until they tangled in a mix of tongue and teeth had a delicious heat burning in your face. This was a good date, the third good date with a good man you met, and you were excited for more.
Looking over your shoulder you saw the lights of his car disappearing in the dark of night and you sighed contently, shutting your door behind you and dropping your keys in the bowl by the door. All of a sudden, your body broke into goosepimples, a chill settling over you and it took you a moment to understand why. Your body was recognizing the dark presence before your mind could.
“Good evening sweetheart. Had a good date?”
The door was right behind you, you could easily grab your car keys right now and run away. And yet all you could do was hold onto the wall as your knees trembled. You’d never been good at running away from him anyway.
Chris was lounging on your sofa, watching you with those arresting blue eyes that you knew changed shades with his mood. His beard was thicker than the last you’d seen him, and his lips were pulled into a sardonic smirk, eyes glinting furiously.
“How?” You sputtered, still rooted to your spot. You could run, you should run, but you knew you wouldn’t go far. He let you go only so far to give you a false sense of achievement, a mere taste of relief and freedom until he snatched you back to himself.
“I always think that every time you leave, it would be the last. You’ll realize that its futile, you’ll realize that we’re meant to be together.” Chris said, “But never did I imagine you to be stupid enough to be with another man.”
His voice had been described as dreamy by many, even by yourself, but right now it only rang of danger and anger. Softness was Chris’s weapon, to deliver the meanest words with a smile that was poison sweet. One time, you had loved to taste that poison yourself. Did it still run in your veins and taint you?
Looking at you from under his lashes, he spread his legs and beckoned you to him. You gulped before following, not daring to look away from him until you were before him.
“Kneel” He ordered softly. You knees hit the ground, the rug digging into your skin. He watched you watch him, eyes locked in a dialog of their own until his rough hand caressed the skin of your cheek. You leaned into his touch, hating yourself for being a slave to him and your desire. Even on your knees, the familiar feeling of peace flooded your senses. Nothing made you feel as alive as worshiping him. And nothing killed you as much as loving him.
“Please” You begged, pressing a kiss into his palm. “Don’t do this to me.”
Chris regarded you with a look that was almost tender, his blue eyes staring into your own as if unearthing every secret you had ever kept from him. He pulled you closer, close enough to have you raise up and hold his shoulders while his lips brushed gently against yours.
“For as long as I live, you are mine. You know that. Why must you fight it?”
It had been a couple months since you last saw him, since the pads of his fingers had glided over the curves of your body and claimed you as his. You melted, you melted like the butter in a hot pan, sizzling with the heat of his ardor. One taste of him and you were ready to forget why you had left him, why you had packed up and left his house when he was out. Chris Evans didn’t just play your body, he also played your heart. He loved you so hard that it hurt.
You wondered if you should fight, if you should scream or cry. But you knew it the moment you walked inside your house tonight: you were going nowhere but to him. He held you as you captured his lips in yours, a hand fisting his hair and tugging. He pulled until you were on his lap, his beard scratching your skin and reminding you of all the ways he had marked you before.
Panting, you pulled away when he breathily whispered your name, eyes liquid and feral and kind. He was a man of many layers and you had unveiled the darkest of them. He no longer hid the rawest parts of him, and you never knew if it was a good thing or not.
“Pack up, I’m taking you back home.” He said, hands settling on your waist. “I am not spending one more night in a bed without you.”
You nodded, stealing another kiss until you surrendered to his demands. Again.
Dodger ran to you, whining and wagging his tail as you sat down to give him better access. You’d missed your furry companion, his coat soft on your cheek when you nuzzled into him. Chris chuckled, rolling your bags into his room while you and Dodger had your little reunion.
“I am so sorry Bubba” You cooed to him, scratching behind his ears. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me, hmm?”
Dodger barked, rubbing his body against you. You laughed, cuddling your little boy. You’d missed waking upto him snuggled by your feet and the soft pattering of his feet as he followed you around.
“He didn’t eat right for a week after you left. You were being a bad mommy.” Chris said coming behind you. He petted Dodger before pulling you up by your arm, your chest flushed to his. You loved how he smelled of coffee and beer and cinnamon. He tasted of them too, bitter and addictive.
Your fingers traced a path in his beard, lips pressing into the hollow of his throat. It scared you how much power he had over you. You’d promised yourself you’ll break away from his hold when you found him snooping in your phone again. His possessiveness knew no bounds. If Chris had it his way, he’d hide you in a castle made only for his eyes. But right now, in the heaven of his arms, you couldn’t remember why you left him in the first place.
“I am sorry.” You whispered, hugging him tight. His arms came around you, holding you so possessively close that even death couldn’t rip you apart. Chemical romance, that’s how Scott had explained your relationship once. Your friends had stopped complaining, had stopped warning after losing count over how often you broke up and got back together.
“I am so pissed at you.” He said in your ear, breath warm on your skin. “I want to erase every lingering trace of that man’s touch from your body. But more than that, I need to remind you who you belong to.”
You refused to look at him, burying your head in his chest even as you held him tighter.
“I belong to you. I know it baby, I made a mistake.” You said, voice muffled. Chris tutted, pushing your face away firmly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze.
“Here I am, feeling guilty for even touching other women during a scene that is supposed to be my job. And my girl goes around fucking other men because we had an argument?” He hissed, a nerve throbbing in his temple. You pouted, bottom lip wobbling as you tried not to cry. You were raised to be a strong woman, someone who could speak for herself. How was it so easy for this man to reduce you to a sniveling woman for something that wasn’t even your fault.
“I didn’t fuck him.” You countered and Chris’s eyes flashed. You stared at each other until Chris practically growled and dragged you towards the bedroom. Dodger trailed behind you, stopping once Chris ordered him to stay put.
His bedroom, a space you had shared and abandoned all too many times was the same as always. It reeked of his aftershave and cologne, the stars winking at you from the window that overlooked the ground. Chris shut the door, rounding on you and pushing you towards the bed.
“You didn’t fuck him?” He spat, ticked off. “You let him touch you, you let him put his hands on what belongs to me.”
You shivered as your back met the cold sheets, bouncing slightly on the mattress. His anger was scary, but more than that it was exciting. It was you who had brought this strong, powerful man to this animalistic side. You, who could make him scowl and shout and get his heart pumping enough to bring blood to his face. You, who made him primitive as he held you down and fucked you into submission.
“We only kissed.” You said, knowing how to provoke him. That kiss was nice, it was sweet. But your body craved rough and hard, it craved to be possessed and used and worshiped. It craved Chris who left his handprints on your butt and his spent in your cunt. It craved Chris who kissed you until you were out of breath, who whispered the filthiest things to you as he buried himself in your warmth over and over until you were too hoarse to even cry.
He knew it, he read that in your eyes and in your touch that seared through the layers of clothes on his body. He knew you were getting under his skin on purpose, hurting him the way he hurt you so many times. Neither of you held back.
You tore away at his clothes, bucking your hips frantically in a bid to get closer. Chris cursed, squeezing your ass in his large hands and grounding his hardness on your thigh.
“You are testing me” He warned, naked flesh touching yours and hands entwining. You ignored him, the wetness dripping down your core begging his attention.
“Eat me” You cried, wiggling under him. He held fast, rubbing his cock on your abdomen, groaning softly. He nuzzled your neck, kissing softly on the spot he knew drove you wild. His weight prevented you from moving too much, not allowing you to do anything for yourself.
“You don’t tell me what to do baby. Not after letting another man touch you. Not after you walked out on me again.” He said angrily, forcing his gentle touch on your body that craved his roughness. You sobbed against his mouth, getting drunk on his lazy kisses and feather soft caresses. You knew what he was doing, you knew he wanted you to break and beg. And you had no dignity.
“Please” You begged, pathetically with tears in your eyes. “Give me what I want Chris. I’ll be good to you, I promise.”
He smirked, sucking a pert nipple in his mouth and rolling it between his tongue. You moaned, struggling to move more. It wasn’t enough to have you under him. He needed more than your compliance. He needed your surrender, he needed you to love him with a hunger as great as his. He was greedy.
“Even when you beg, you look like a goddess. You’re my angel, but I’m not gonna let you go to heaven. We’ll sin together in hell.”
He dove in, tongue swiping away your juice in a practiced move as you howled at the suddenness of his attack. Your thighs held his head captive between their plump flesh, mewls spilling from your mouth without restraint as he finally gave you what you wanted. You pulled on his hair, steering him closer to your core that was flaming under his mouth and flooding with pleasure.
“Oh Chris!” You moaned, writhing and trembling. You had missed his beard scratching the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, missed his nails digging in your flesh to keep you steady, missed his tongue poking inside your warm cavern to taste your sweet nectar. Chris never worshiped you like a devotee to the lord. He worshipped you like a man summoning the devil, by spilling blood and leaving marks that stain the soul.
“Look at you go darling, so beautiful” He praised, easing a finger inside you and curling it. You threw your head back, shattering with an orgasm that took your breath away. Pleasure was a feeling you were familiar with, but combined with Chris’s love and anger, it formed the most intoxicating mix that got you dizzy.
He kissed the swollen head of your clit, gently easing you down from your high with praises whispered directly to your leaking cunt. He cupped your pussy, grinding his heels against you as your eyes met.
“Nobody else will touch you here. Or anywhere else for that matter.” He ordered and you nodded, still desperate for him. His cock was red and angry, warm drops of precum leaking over your stomach and you tugged at him, asking to fill you up.
“Chris, I need you inside me. Please.”
He crawled up and laid beside you, jerking you on top of him. Your hands found his chest, lightly playing with his nipples and the spattering of hair there before moving down to cup his hardness and his balls. He jerked at the first contact, closing his eyes as his breath hitched and you smiled at your own effect over him. You could reduce him to a mess just as well he could to you.
Pumping his length, you licked it slowly, lathering it with your saliva. You remembered the day you’d named it Cumstopher Rogers and he’d slapped you with it, making you choke on him until you had to apologize.
“Put me inside you now because if I have to take over, I’ll choose which hole it goes in and you probably won’t like it.” He growled in impatience. You clenched, his threats going straight to your core.
You positioned yourself over him, sinking slowly and gently, feeling every part of him against your spongy walls. With your thighs flush to his, you stopped to just let the feeling of fullness last a little longer. No matter how many times you’d been with each other, the feeling of Chris being so deep inside you never got old. If you could, you’d never be empty.
“All my holes like your cock Mr. Evans. And I? I love it and your butt and your chest and arms and face and everything else.”
You moved at a slow pace, bouncing gently while holding onto his thighs. Taking his hand in yours, you placed it on your chest, asking him to play with your nipples as you rode him.
“You feeling powerful, baby? You feeling good bouncing on my dick?” He asked, pinching a nipple almost to the point of pain. You nodded, leaning down to kiss him as he started thrusting up a little, hitting your cervix when he went too deep. You rolled your belly, clenching your muscles around his length so that his eyes flew open and hands dug into the softness of your butt.
“Oh Chris, I missed this.” You told him, tasting the sweat on his temple. He nodded, his huge arms wrapping around you and pulling you intimately close.
“I missed you too, which is why I will make sure you never leave me. This is not your power move, this is mine.” He darkly murmured and your eyes met his in confusion. He looked at the side and you followed his gaze, mouth dropping open at the camera that blinked at you with a red light on.
“What the fuck, Chris?” You shout, trying to move away when he rolled you over and under him, thrusting in hard.
“Oh yes, what the fuck baby” He said, holding your wrists as he picked up his pace. “You think it’s okay to pack a bag and leave me every time? You think it’s okay to date other men, to kiss other men? You are mine. And if anyone needs proof of that, now I can show it to them.”
You cried out as he went harder, a pressure building deep inside your belly. Tears escaped your eyes, gazing into blue ones that you loved and hated with a passion. You could have asked him to stop now, you could shout that you don’t want him and he’s sick. But you didn’t. You knew he would stop if you really wanted him to, and as much as your heart broke and your chest tightened with hurt, you loved him. You loved his twisted ways to keep you with him. You loved it when he went above and beyond, got crazy in his desire for you. You were wanted. You were cherished.
“Fuck you.” You cursed, meeting every thrust of his with a raise of your hips. Your eyes closed, sweat dripping down your body as you let the animalistic part of you take over, screaming and tearing and fucking each other like two people whose only goal in life was to be embedded in the other’s heart and psyche.
“I’d like to see you try to walk out tomorrow after tonight.” Chris said, delivering punishing strokes that were agonizing and titillating, that were fire and ice. You held onto him, leaving crescent shaped scars to join the numerous tattoos across his body. He took you apart, fucked you so good all you could do was say him name and fall in a glittery haze of his presence. He came inside you, filling you to the brim and crushing your body with his weight.
You weren’t leaving, that much was obvious.
Throwing in your clothes haphazardly in the bag, you promised yourself this would be the last time you did this. You will not come back to this house and this bed. Chris and you were done for good. The past few months had followed the same pattern. You both rekindling the dying flame of your relationship, mending the broken hearts and trust until it went back to hell.
There were too many arguments, too much shouting and angry sex. Every time you sat down to talk, it ended with your legs in the air. Your mother was right. He wasn’t right for you. Chris wanted to be your hero and your villain. He wanted you to think of nobody but him. Any friends and family that warned you against him had to be cut off. He’ll dismiss every article the paparazzi published about him but would throw a fit if you so much as smiled at the cashier in the grocery store. He kept you close like a dog on a leash, feeling jealous at the very sight of you talking to any man. You’d wanted to give this relationship a chance, but as of twenty minutes ago, Chris had made sure it was over.
You wondered about taking your pictures, but it was better to stay away from any temptations. This was happening, and as much as it broke your heart, you will not come back to him. Zipping up your bag, you straightened just as Chris stormed inside the room, jaw clenched in anger.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He barked, “Put your stuff back. I’ll be damned if I let you leave me again.”
You scowled at him, wiping the stray tears from your eyes. He had no right to ask anything of you, not after what he had just done.
“Fuck off Chris. I am leaving, and you can’t stop me.” You shouldered past him, sadly looking at Dodger who was whining softly as he watched you move. He had seen this happen enough times to know that you’re not coming home.
Chris marched behind you, snatching your wrist and pulling you back to himself. The blue in his eyes was darker, like the sky covered in thunder clouds. You squirmed, pushing against him.
“You. Are. Not. Leaving.” He hissed, looking scary and mad.
“How dare you? After what you did today?” You sobbed, hitting your fists on his chest. He held your jaw, bringing your face closer to him so he could peer into your watery eyes.
“I proposed! I got down on one knee. What the fuck is your problem?” He shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
You shook your head, looking at him with an expression of disbelief. Is he that oblivious?
“Marriage is permanent Chris” You said, voice suddenly soft. “Marriage is living your life devoted to your partner. We can’t break up and leave and come back again. It’s a responsibility. You and I, we haven’t been able to keep a stable relationship. How the hell will we keep a happy marriage?”
Chris frowned, not liking what you said. He pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his huge arms on either side. You could smell the chocolate and wine on his breath from dinner, his hair all messed up from when he ran his hands through it. On his neck still hung the necklace you’d got him.
“Look at me” He said, pressing his forehead to yours. You breathed deeply, finding it difficult to maintain an eye contact as charged with anger and passion as this one. “You love me, you still love me. It’s all in your eyes. Why won’t you marry me?”
You wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Why did loving him have to be so difficult? Was love worth the fights, the tears and pain and loss of independence? Was loving him enough to keep you going? You were so tired of this back and forth with him. You’d never even talked about marriage before, having been too busy trying to keep any sort of relationship alive. Why would he do this to you?
As your limbs got heavier, you leaned forward and hugged him. You held him to yourself, soaking in his warmth and smell inside you for what would be the last time. You could not give up so much of yourself to sustain this love. Soon enough, there would be nothing more to give and the love would be dead.
“You need to let me go Christopher” You said to him, lips close to his ear. “You need to understand that love is only the beginning. I can’t keep doing this anymore. Please, just let me go.”
Chris hugged you tighter, his head resting over yours and heart beating strong beneath your hand. He was your night, full of twinkling stars and dark mysteries. But dawn was approaching fast, and you needed to bid goodbye to the moon to greet the sun that awaited you.
“Never.” He promised, “You are never leaving me again. I’ll fucking make sure of it.”
He picked you up suddenly, ignoring your protests as he carried you back into the bedroom. Kicking your bag aside, he dropped you on the bed, raising a finger to stop you. He took out the ring from his pocket, the very one you had refused this evening and held it to you.
“Put this on.” He ordered and you rubbed your eyes in exasperation.
“No.”
You both glared at each other, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Fighting with Chris had always been a thrill, more often than not ending with wild sex on any and all surfaces in sight. But today you were determined to end it. You’d not let yourself become weak at the sight of his cock.
“Okay then, you’ve left me no choice.” Chris said. He picked up his phone and tapped away on it, doing god knows what. You sighed, getting up and putting your stuff together again, ignoring his presence behind you. Chris threw his phone on the bed, looking stoically at you work. You were just folding the last of your clothes when your phone started buzzing. You ignored it for a minute, but it kept up, almost falling off the table with its vibrations.
“What the fuck” You gasped, looking at the hundreds of notifications pouring in as more followed. You quickly opened your Instagram to see you’d been tagged by Chris.
And she said YES!
Below that caption was a picture of the both of you from a couple months ago, cuddled up and smiling at each other.
Comments and likes from everyone were popping in, and soon enough, you saw your mother’s call. You stared at Chris, utterly in disbelief. What had he done?
“Try saying no now. You’d be the bitch who broke Chris Evans’s heart, the bitch who played him. Try walking in public between people who’d see you only as a slut and nothing more.”
Your world came crashing down. You were not some hotshot celebrity like Chris. You were just a girl trying to live her life the best way she knew how to, and how it ended up entangled with this man you’d never understand. Even if you shouted from the rooftops the truth of today, no one would believe you. Chris’s fans would tear you to shreds, destroy your life with their mean comments and attacks. And your family would not be spared either. They’ll be exposed to a celebrity scandal, dragged through the mud along with your good name.
“Oh god Chris, what have you done?” You choked out, falling to your knees. He came before you, gently caressing your head before kneeling in front of you. Cupping your face, he kissed you deep and hard, countering your hate with his love that hit you like your own kryptonite.
“I told you. I told you I’ll never let you leave.” He breathed against your mouth, pulling you closer. You dug your nails in his arms, hurting him with the hurt he just caused you, but he didn’t even flinch.
“You’re a monster” You said, chest heaving with emotions.
“Yes, I am. But you know what darling?” He said sweetly, “Even after this, you still love me. I am a monster, but I am a monster you created and one you love.”
You ended up on the bed, sprawled underneath him again. Even with icy hate in your eyes, your heart burned with love for him. It was unnatural, it was chemical and wrong. And yet, it was your reality. He was yours, no matter what he did. And you were his, regardless of every protest that you ever made.
“Now, I’ll ask this one more time. Will you marry me?” He asked softly, looking at you like you were all he ever saw.
“Yes” You breathed, watching silently as he slipped the ring on your finger and kissed it. Meeting your eyes, he settled over your body, his arousal pulsing over your thigh. Sealing the deal with a kiss, Chris went to remove your shirt.
“Then let’s celebrate. After we’re done, we can call our families with the good news.”
#chris evans x reader#dark!chris evans x reader#chris x reader#dark!chris evans#chris evans#chris evans rpf
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Compromise
Yandere Alpha!Aizawa x omega!reader
Warnings: omegaverse fuckery, yandere, dark themes, very slight daddy kink, very slight breeding kink, PiNk NiPpLeS
A/N: I wrote this for a friend and that friend is me. Entirely self indulgent which is wack because usually when I write AOB shit I have the shield of it being a request up. Usually I try to stray away from describing things about skin and bodies for self-inserts, but I did a little bit for this one. Anyways, have some nasty trash
(DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT ASKING FOR MY PERMISSION)
Aizawa was a patient and experienced man. He was no stranger to having a cat he rescued off the street become reclusive in his domain— only making appearances when they needed to eat, drink, and relieve themselves, so it was not too alarming when he brought you, a criminal vigilante, back to his home and you had reacted similarly. He wasn’t worried. He figured that as an omega, he’d find you deprived and wanton sooner or later.
He understood that you needed your space. It surely had to be a bit of a culture shock to you for the first couple of days or weeks, and he certainly knew that you’d need your time to cool off after being plucked so suddenly off the streets like you were. The last thing Aizawa wanted was for you to hate him, so at first he had repressed his need to claim you immediately in order to help you acclimate to your new environment. He was fervently against forcing himself on you, even if his nature told him that it was his right.
Before you became a suitable partner, you had to be his pet. You had to be his comfortable pet.
So he left you alone in the room he’d set up for you, only hoping that you’d come out to visit him on your own accord before you fell into your first heat in your new home. Your stubborn heart never showed its face, but that wasn’t a dealbreaker for the erasure hero. If anything, your petulance stirred him. It beckoned him.
The day finally came when you had your first heat, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to it. It was only natural for Aizawa to be drawn to your room when he caught a whiff of that delectable scent, that musty aroma that was so indisputably you, that it got him hard as a rock instantaneously. Like a moth to a flame, he found and rescued you from your own aching turmoil. The alpha claimed you, and marked you, and fucked you, and loved you, until you were nothing but a messy pile of satisfied lust melded into the guest room sheets, panting and writhing and thanking him for taking very good care of you. You were soft and warm and you fit around him perfectly. You were heaven on earth, crying into his shoulder, clawing at his back, begging for him to give more, more, more, and he did, and you wailed and came for him over and over until you inevitably passed out— splayed on the bed all cute and tuckered out and his. He had been elated.
He had hoped that after the first time he mated with you, you’d be more personable. However, after the fifth heat, Aizawa had to admit that your indomitability would not be broken so easily. He figured that he was spoiling you— letting you stay hidden and alone for as long as you wanted until your heat broke and you could use him for the one thing you’d value him for as an omega. That was the thing. He was letting you use him, and though that may have made you his comfortable pet, that didn’t further your advancement into becoming a suitable partner; it just made you a spoiled princess. He just had to let you know that though a princess you may be, you were his. He’d spoil you on his own terms, and that was only after you learned who held the reigns under his roof.
Six hours had passed since he first caught your scent. You were early this month, which was a pleasant surprise. That could’ve been because of your change in diet; Aizawa had been feeding you lean meat rather than packaged protein in hopes of getting you to act a little more congenial, but that hadn’t changed your mood much. You still glared and recoiled whenever he entered the room, which was nothing compared to the storm of swears you had whirled at him while trying to claw his eyes out when he first brought you to the condo. Still, he’d prefer that you at least thanked him for feeding you and making sure you had plenty of blankets to sleep with at night.
But now that you were in heat— now that you were needy, and desperate, and hungry for an alpha, Aizawa knew that dealing with your less-than-pleasant mood would be worth it. However, this month, he would not come to your aid when he caught the first signs of you torture. He’d have you wait for however long he could stomach it
Aizawa was surprised when you finally came out to the living room.
What Aizawa was expecting was an insolent omega with a potent glower on her face— that consistent brat’s disposition. What he wasn’t expecting was that the brat was going to be wearing one of his long sleeved shirts with nothing but her panties underneath, and he didn’t expect it to be so fucking cute. Did you miss his scent? Was his shirt some sort of comfort object to you?
You were becoming such a good girl.
A sheen of your own need coated your thighs and your potent aroma wafted around the living room. It was nearly unbearable. Aizawa didn’t bother to hide the raging tent in his pants. He wanted you to know that he smelled you, that he wanted you, and that it was no mistake that you had been neglected for hours. You were being punished and you should know. He lifted a singular brow, prompting you to speak.
Instead of begging for him immediately like he expected you to, you surprised him for the second time with an accusation:
“You are being cruel.”
Your voice was hoarse, as if you’d been crying, or moaning, or both, and Aizawa loved it. The corner of his mouth twitched up and he extended his arm out, beckoning you to climb into his lap, and like an obedient little bitch, you did.
Your knees were on either side of one of his thick thighs, one of your hands were pulling pathetically at the shoulder of his shirt while the other pressed lightly to his neck. Shouta felt a shudder climb up his spine when you squeezed your legs together and he gave his own leg and experimental bump, just to watch you clench your teeth together and hiss.
You burrowed your face into the crook of his neck. Aizawa took you in, pressing his nose to your hair, relishing the mixed aroma of your shampoo, your sweat, and your pheromone. You gave out a wanton little whimper when he pressed his hand lightly to the small of your back. Aizawa bumped his leg again, and you shuddered against him, letting out the smallest sigh. Noisy baby girl.
You were everything lovely in this world— his little rose.
“Sadist,” you accused, slowly rolling your hips as you began riding his thigh. Your nails dug into his shoulder when he gave you another bump. You growled, but it was no more threatening than a hiss of a kitten.
Aizawa smirked against your hair. Even the loveliest of roses had their thorns.
“How do you figure?” He asked in a slightly mocking tone, because his true nature when he got intimate was no secret to him nor you— not that you objected to it… in the moment. “I haven’t laid a finger on you.”
He slid his large hands down your waist to your smooth, bare thighs. Your body flushed with warmth, and Aizawa could tell that you felt his cock pulsate against your leg by how your cheeks burned a deeper shade of lustful red.
“You’re… neglecting me,” you murmured into his chest.
Aizawa tutted at you and you hummed against him. It was baffling how similar you were to an actual pampered cat.
“Neglecting,” he echoed, baleful and bemused while still oddly roused by how you were trying to appeal to his alpha ethos. “Do I not bring you food when you are hungry? Water when you’re thirsty? Have I not invited you to stay with me in a loving home that you’re free to roam on your own accord only to leave you be when you choose to stay shut away in the lonely room?”
You peeled your head away and scowled down at him. Your plush lips pursed in a way that thrilled Aizawa. His eyelids grew heavy as he imagined pushing his fingers between your them while his cock plunged deep into your soaking, needy, little omega cunt. God, how he missed feeling your walls tighten around him. He thought about what it was like being inside you all the damn time, and it was torture knowing that you were a only a room away from him, and that he could have you at any time so easily, but you’d never be able to love him like he wanted you to if he commanded you to fuck him. Even now, waiting this long while he knew you’d let him in easily, but knowing he had a point to prove, was absolute torture. If patience was a virtue, Aizawa was a goddamn saint.
Trembling, you said, “you kidnapped me, actually. That’s not as loving as you might think, Eraser.”
“No, sweetheart.” Aizawa brought his hand up to your face. His thumb caressed your lips, and they parted readily for him. Your mouth wrapped around him as you hummed tentatively around his thumb. You suckled on him with buzzing warmth, trying to sway him away from having a serious conversation, because it was obvious that right now, you did not want to talk about your ‘kidnapping’; you wanted Aizawa to rut you. “I saved you.”
Aizawa pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop! and with the same hand, he proceeded to squeeze your cheeks together. “And you’ve not been very gracious.”
Aizawa could see a fire building up in your eyes. The carnal side of him wanted you to lash out, just so he could push you onto the floor, head down, ass up, and teach you some goddamn manners, but he had to tell himself that you needed to learn. This thought waged war against the sudden realization that his thigh was warm and wet with your lust, and that was quickly pushing the limits of his resolve. He didn’t think that you even knew you were scenting him, which might’ve made that all the more hot.
You’re hurting, he thought to himself. You’re hurting and you want him. You want to be pumped full of his seed, to be bred like a blue ribbon bitch. You want him to use you.
Aizawa could feel his blood rushing while you reached around his head to pull his hair tie out, letting his messy black mop drape over his face. Your lovely hands softly grasped his wrist and with a voice too damn sweet for your own damn good, you asked, “what do you want?”
“For you to be a good girl.”
“I— I’m here, aren’t I?” You asked, as if that would suffice. In retrospect, it would, but Aizawa wanted to be greedy with you. He wanted much more.
So he lied. “That’s not enough, princess.”
“God, please, tell me what I need to do for you to… to fuck me. This is excruciating!”
“Oh. Is my little kitten in heat?” Aizawa moved his hand from your cheeks, down to your warm neck and squeezed. “Is that why she’s finally crawled out of her hideaway?”
Aizawa grabbed the back of your head and you gasped. Your hands slid down to below your stomach, but Aizawa yanked on your hair, causing you to cry out and grasp at his arms before you could dip your treacherous hands into your ptanties. He watched as your nipples hardened harshly through his shirt that really did fit you well.
You whispered out a cute little, “yes,” as Aizawa pushed the shirt up to reveal the tender, pink tits he’d been missing for weeks. Licking his lips, Aizawa experimentally pinched one of your swollen buds between his middle and index fingers as he palmed your sore, swollen breasts. You moaned as you rubbed yourself harder onto his thigh, as if that would be enough to get you off, though it clearly wasn’t by your hushed pleas for any kind of relief. Aizawa ached. He could feel his own pre-cum dribbling out of his cock every time you barely brushed against him.
“Poor baby,” Aizawa cooed before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. Your body shook while his tongue swirled around you. You placed your hands on the top of his head and began kneading your fingertips through your hair. Aizawa groaned, the reverberations in his chest deepening, the edges of his teeth teasing your sensitive bud.
“Eraser,” you mewled, because you were a vigilante criminal first and foremost, then with another tug, you warbled out a, “daddy,” because you wanted to stir him on a crueler, more personal level, and to tip the bucket over, you knitted your fingers into the back of his head, and pleaded, “alphaahhah.”
Aizawa pulled back and growled, ripping his shirt up and off your shoulders. In nothing but your panties, your entire body flushed in either embarrassment or asoursal— possibly both. Aizawa wanted to worship every inch of you.
You tried to kiss him then, but Aizawa wasn’t having it— jerking his head away just enough so your lips were a hair away from his. You groaned defiantly, then pushed your face past his so his nose was lodged against your neck, below your scent glands. Since Aizawa was having a fine time teasing you, he rolled his tongue up your neck, just to hear your voice catch in a pathetic squeak that set every single nerve ending in his entire body aflame. This was sadomasochism in its prime. Aizawa enjoyed it immensely.
“I’ll come out more— a couple times a week.” You promised desperately, catching that Aizawa wanted to bargain with you.
“Not enough,” his gruff whisper against your skin sent ripples of goosebumps across your arms. “Though I love looking at my little pet, I want to be able to touch her, to hold her, to hear about her day. I’m going to need more from her. Do you understand?”
You paused. Mirthless. Shaken. His. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He asked, before giving you another long lick.
“Yes-“ of all the names he’d like to hear from you— sir, alpha, Shouta, Eraserhead, you chose, “- daddy.” While in this state, your lustful, breathy sighs was the only air he needed for his lungs and hearing you call him daddy woke up something covertly instinctual in him. Your name was his heartbeat.
Baby girl. Baby girl.
“I can… join you for breakfast or dinner on the weekends… when you have time.”
“-I can make the time,” Aizawa cut in, murmuring against your skin. “Go on.”
You groaned in frustration. “I don’t know what the hell you want, Eraser! I can’t be your little housewife!”
Aizawa didn’t miss a beat. He was used to your outbursts, even when they were a bit too sudden. He also knew that when he bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulders, you would moan and pull in his hair. When you did, all he had to do was grab your wrists, hold them above your shoulders, and watch you become a panting mess.
Housewife? As if Aizawa wanted you to be so tame. Someone to cook and clean for him? The concept was cute, but that wasn’t on brand with the woman he loved. Aizawa knew who you were, and that was not a doting slave, although the thought of you in an apron and nothing else besides that apron was an exciting concept.
“I don’t want a housewife, kitten. I want a mate.”
Your face flushed. Aizawa’s cock throbbed between your wet thighs. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you, and you kept pushing yourself against him, and god could he not wait another agonizing second of not being inside of you. He was about to let up— give in, give you what you both wanted, and then try again the next time you were desperate for him. He was about to, but then you hit him with a deal.
A myriad of promises escaped your lips, each richer than the last. Some of them were cute, domesticated bullshit that tickled Aizawa’s interest: movie nights, a kiss in the morning, brushing teeth together. Others tickled Aizawa in a different way: massages, surprise blowjobs, something concerning a collar and a leash.
Before he knew it, Aizawa was grinning. He couldn’t say that any of the ideas you spouted in your time of need, but in all honesty, the promise to try was really all he needed.
“I think we might be in business,” he said, and his grin turned into a kiss, and that kiss turned into his tongue brushing against yours, and his enjoying the taste of your moan turned into him ridding himself of the sweats that kept him from you.
The head of Aizawa’s cock twitched and glistened, wet with urgent desire. His stomach tightened when he grasped his throbbing base. You gave him a hungry look. “You wanna prove to me you'll be my good girl?” he purred, appraising you. You bit your lip and nodded attentively, ready to take any request he sent your way. “Then why don’t you ride daddy’s cock?.”
You laughed then. It was a sort of short, relieved kind of laugh that was more of a thank you than anything else— a yes, sir, anything you say, grateful for this opportunity, sir sort of noise.
You pulled your soaking panties to the side and formed a gyre with your hips, moving in circles, coating Aizawa’s cock in your slick. You licked your lips as his cock head teased your saturated slit. You hummed, practically quivering from the idea of having his cock push into you and it took everything out of Aizawa not to grab on to your hips and force you down on him. He needed to enjoy the show before being brute.
You dipped down onto him. Your mouth fell open, but no noise came out. Aizawa flexed his jaw, trying hard to hold onto the last remaining thread of his restraint. You locked your hand onto the back of his neck and eased yourself off of him— you hadn’t gotten even half of his length inside of you, but still your face tensed in pained pleasure as you rolled back down his shaft.
“Fuck. Sho. I can’t-!”
“What is it, baby girl? Is daddy’s cock too big for you to work with on your own?”
You gave him a withering look. You locked your fingers into his hair and forced your lips back on his. He chuckled lowly against your kiss, palming your breasts as you began to ride him.
Aizawa groaned inwardly because fuck, you felt so good rhythmically sliding up and down his cock— so warm, so sloppy, so tight— fuck, so tight that you couldn’t fit all of him in you. You moved your ass so well that Aizawa was surprised he hadn’t made you ride him before. Of course, every time the two of you had gotten intimate (intimate being being Aizawa’s word of choice because he loved you too damn much) in the past, it's always been rushed, carnal, and desperate. It didn’t help that Aizawa liked to take the reigns, and that fact battled with Aizawa’s desire to watch you move so fluently, so sensuously on top of him. You were a marvel to witness, and if he could, he’d savor this moment forever, but his corporal instincts took over.
Aizawa gripped onto your hips. Your pupils dilated.
Aizawa pulled you down onto him and when your mouth fell open this time, a high yip rang out from the back of your throat. He bucked his hips up, hitting you hard and deep each time you came down on him. You whimpered and mewled, digging your nails into his skin as your lust and need rolled down onto his thighs.
“Such pretty noises, kitten.“ he pulled your head back to him so his lips were against your ear. “I’m gonna ruin your little cunt, baby girl. How do you like that idea?”
“Hnngggg. Yes, daddy, please, please.”
Aizawa smirked. Good girl.
He bit your neck and you squeezed around him. He wrapped his arms around your body and stood up, moving you to the arm of the couch. You wrapped your legs around him, locking them around his hips with a grin Aizawa didn’t think you knew you had on. Fingers pulled on skin as he pistoned his hips, slapping into your fast and hard, filling the room with slaps and squelching and the sounds of you hissing and moaning and pleading for more. His skin turned red where you scraped your nails across, hopelessly trying to pull him more into you, and so he did.
He pushed himself to his hilt and watched your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and Jesus Christ if you weren’t the most enchanting fucking creature on this plain earth. Aizawa pushed your shoulders back so you laid flat on your back with your legs hanging off the couch. He admired your stomach as his cock pressed against it, hitting your spot again and again, eliciting sweet music from his precious fucktoy.
Your pussy fluttered as your sputtered out nonsensensical praises for your alpha— the only man that could take care of you, the only man that would ever touch you again.
“Feel good, baby?” Aizawa hissed through gritted teeth as the base of his cock began to inflate. “You like it when I take care of you?”
You were lost to your words, only able to whimper back at him, clutching at the couch cushions with trembling fingers.
“C’mon girl, I know you can handle much more than this.”
“Shooutah,” you managed, squeezing your eyes shut as two thick tears rolled off your cheeks. “Pleaaase.”
“What is it, little kitty? Use your words.”
“I wanna make you a daddy,” you cried, your toes curling, your body shaking. Aizawa growled, his vision sharpening, his cock pulsating. You crooned, “I wanna have your baby. Please— please! ”
Aizawa couldn’t believe his ears. His perfect little mate playing with his instincts like that, just for a good fuck? Naughty kitten. He hunched over the couch, hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing lightly, forcing you to look at your mate. You squeaked, brows furrowing, breath faltering. You were giving him such a pretty and pathetic look. He couldn’t stand it.
Aizawa felt his knot swell all the way up when his lips once again collided with yours. You spasmed around him, and the added sensation of the sweet reverberations of your moans against his lips blew him away.
Aizawa could forgive you for making empty promises every now and again, but if you were going to say something so dangerous while he rutted into you, he might have to teach you to choose your worlds a little more carefully his way.
His knot locked you into place. His cock throbbed intensely as ropes of thick, hot cum lined your quivering cunt walls. Aizawa groaned when you howled, the two of you harmonized and synced, bonded to each other once again. Elation coursed through his veins, and he could tell by the beautiful euphoric look on your face, he could tell you were feeling the same way.
Trapped in each other’s daze, Aizawa couldn’t be happier stuck to you like this. He wove his fingers through your sweaty hair and kissed your neck, your jaw, your cheeks, and your lips.
“I love you,” he whispered, because he couldn’t lie to you like this. You said nothing back, because you couldn’t lie either. It bothered Aizawa, but not enough to ruin his good mood. You didn’t love him yet because you didn’t know him. If you were true to your word and spent more time with him, letting him show you that the two of you were each other’s perfect mates, that could change. It would change.
At least when the swelling went down, and Aizawa could lay back on the couch, you curled against him and let him play with your hair. The two of you laid entwined together for a long while. Aizawa was content having you in his arms, but when your breathing grew heavier and he knew you were asleep, he was glad to be carrying you back to bed, his bed, where you’d be sleeping in from now on.
TAGS FOR EVERYTHING: @ayeputita @yandere-inamorata @dee-madwriter @unboundbnha @rizamendoza808, @rubycubix @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @zellllyyyy @sarcastictextstuck @kpanime @captain-sin-allmight-queen @psionicsnow @wickedlewicked @ghost-of-todoroki @kattariapenn @im-an-adult-sometimes @bnhya @local-senpai @eggpienutbuttercroissant @usernamekate94 @reyvenclaww @hi-ho-and-hello
#bnha x reader#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa x reader#yandere bnha#bnha yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#omegaverse#aob#alpha!aizawa#yandere!aizawa#yandere!aizawa x reader#boku no hero academia#mha x reader#bnha reader insert#reader insert#x reader#alpha x omega
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WHAT A KILLER
BO’S S/O REVEALING THEY ARE ALSO A SLASHER (Vincent is also kind of in this)
TW: blood, gore, killing, swearing (that’s inevitable with Bo)
THIS has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and idk why I'm so iffy on posting it but hopefully you guys in enjoy this! It's different from a lot of what I write and I do like it, it's just specific lol.. Also the s/o in this, was the bare bones of what Amaria (my oc) started as... hope you enjoy 🔪💕
MASTERLIST
Bloodcurdling screams could be heard through the normally silent town of Ambrose as dusk fell. Crimson painted the skies and the asphalt, almost mirroring each other in perfection. Crows calling for the wasted souls Bo obliterated and Vincent could not fix.
Shuttering at the sounds heard you could not sit there on the old couch any longer, just playing with your fingers trying to push down the urges you felt deep down. They beckoned you like the crows did for flesh. You tried so hard to hide this side but it was only a matter of time you knew, the demon had to rear it’s head eventually if you really wanted to stay in Ambrose forever, and you did. You found the man of your twisted dreams here.
Before you were held in Ambrose against your will; well in the beginning it was against your will but that quickly faded and you fell madly in love with your kidnapper and the town he held so close; you were a drifter. A wanderer of gypsy’s blood. Never managing to hold in one place for more than 6 months, the only time you had a home was when you were growing up, but having a disgusting home life you left at 16. Fleeing home and trying to run from your growing desires you instead made a treaty with your urges, running towards them, allowing them to show when you were safe and comfortable.
Bo never knew, all these months as you played the part of his defenceless little housewife it was growing harder to tell him. Of course you wanted to tell him but you were scared of him not trusting you, and terrified of what he would do to you; pretty ironic when you considered doing the same things to him.
Casually you would throw a joke out there about killing someone or dreaming of snapping someone's neck, however they weren’t jokes to you. It was your wicked reality. Bo was none the wiser, but Vincent, in his quiet embers saw something beyond your delicate eyes, something he saw within himself perhaps. He started to believe your jokes and comments, carefully watching you. Wondering if for once there was a different kind of evil in the town, or if he was becoming the hunted instead of the hunter.
Climbing the stairs and reaching the bedroom you paused, pulling in a large breath and exhaling, closing your eyes. You sank to your knees against the hardwood, pulling a long black, locked plastic box from under the bed, methodically you played with the lock and swung the top open. Placing your eyes upon the weapon your body tensed but your soul relaxed, a sick war inside your head divided.
Running your hands along the cold metal of the black blade, you felt home once again, blood could almost be felt on your hands and screams faded in your ears. Hunger grew. A deep pleasure surged through you.
It was your 18 inch steel black machete; with ridges menacingly flaunting themselves across the top, like a dragon’s spine. The grip you had customized to fit your hand perfectly, needing it to act like an extension of you. It was adorned proudly with a thin rope of bright red fabric tied around the end of the handle, ripped from your first victim’s shirt, it’s tails would drift gracefully in the wind juxtaposing the damage the weapon could do.
Shaky hands picked up the weapon and it seamlessly melting into your grip, your eyes darkened as you rose from the floor, feeling your demons begin to yip and howl like a pack of starving wild dogs ready to feed. Giving yourself another deep breath in and out you kicked the box back under the bed and started down the stairs and out the front door with purpose.
The hot sticky Louisiana air hit you, flowing in your hair and the tail of fabric on your machete. Screams begin to reach you in swells, coming closer flooding you like the rising tides as a younger woman was running towards you. Under the dim streetlights she could not see what you held, for the black blade melted into the shadows perfectly, as intended. To her you were hope, a way out of her hell, maybe you could help her. The poor thing could not have been more wrong in her panic-stricken judgements.
You could smell her blood pouring from her injuries Bo inflicted and her desperate cries, it was all too much to you, it was just like blood in the water to a shark, your twisted instincts began to take over. Eyes darkened on the prey that was heedlessly bounding towards you and with one swipe, that was it. Blood was spilt. You had killed again and it felt so damn right. Looking down basking in the sight, she was slit ear to ear, the gash threatening to show the tips of the vertebrae at the back of her neck. The demons were lurching beside you pushing you forward for more. More blood. More affliction.
Studying the surroundings, Bo was nowhere to be found, unusual for him to let his prey escape his hunt. It was quiet now as you walked on down the street, yellow fluorescents guided your path, and the homes were just barren shapes acting as blinders leading you onward for the man you dreaded seeing at this moment, the demons couldn’t care less about your emotions or feelings, they just carried your body to more gore.
Rounding the corner, the gas station lights gave up a tangled mess on the ground. Two men were wrestling for some sort of weapon that glinted in the lights above them. Cursing yells, threats and grunts spilled out of both of them, one more than the other of course. Bo always had a mouth on him and no one could ever shut him up, it made you smirk as you approached, but suddenly there was a sharp yell and the stranger was on top of Bo. The man had his back to you and just had eyes for the greasy mechanic, beating him with the weapon you could now see was a wrench. You could feel a burning anger rise from your core and Bo’s howls were just fuel to the fire.
Steadily making your way up to the two wrecks of people, now standing behind the stranger you forced your long rigid blade through the core of the man, impaling him right under the sternum. Loud clanging of metal rang through the street as the man dropped the wrench as his body went limp, heaving over the weapon within him. With your boot you carefully directed the corpse off your machete and on the asphalt next to Bo, leaving your face sprayed with red from the spine of the blade.
Your eyes met with saucer wide baby blues causing you to let out a silent breathy laugh licking your lips of blood, sickly savouring the unusual copper. Bo laid on the ground a moment longer just taking in for sure what he saw from his precious angel. Just as you were about to speak but Bo beat you to it.
“I FUCKIN’ KNEW IT!” he gloated hysterically, leaving you more than a little shocked. “I KNEW IT!” Bo got to his feet and almost looked like he was going to do a little dance, you just stood there in the streetlight beginning to laugh, relived but worried as if he had hit his head or something. It was never a dull moment with Bo that’s for sure.
“Are you ok? like seriously, your beginning to scare me” you puzzled as he sauntered his way up to you cocky as ever.
“I’m fuckin’ fantastic... I knew there was something in you” he held you against his chest and put his head on yours “something awful behind those beautiful eyes, my little angel of death” you laughed against him as he kissed your crown, then pulled away looking you dead in the eyes. “Why did you think I kept you around all these months? you made me wait a while... and you know how much I hate waitin”
The words burned in your skull, was that really the only reason? Bo was still unpredictable to you in ways, especially with his dark side. Maybe he was just going to kill you now, maybe he didn’t love you, it could’ve just been the wicked charm he carried effortlessly.
Something came alive in his blue eyes, scaring you slightly but trying to play it off when you cupped his strong jaw, breathing slowly.
“People are my specialty baby” he drawled, then pulled you roughly into a kiss. Sweat, oil, cigarettes, and blood coated the kiss leaving you breathless as he often did.
Bo was right, people were his perfected craft; charming, seducing, lying, playing up the sob story about him and Vincent being in foster care after both parents died. Hell, he could speak French Cajun so he could be more versatile, and charm his way out of any situation in any part of Louisiana. Bo always knew everything you were feeling even before you said it, now that you think back on it.
“Bo? you still love me?” you hesitating in your question not sure if you wanted the answer.
This caught his attention as his jaw tensed and eyes hardened “What would make you think I don’t?... sure I would’ve liked to know earlier, sure, but this just makes you better,” he looked you up and down like a predator before coming close to your ear and purring “and hotter.” You yelped as you were suddenly tossed over his shoulder and carried down to the basement of the garage.
Fidgeting with the lock for a moment he swung the door open and placed you in his chair. “Oh, Sinclair there is a special place in hell for us, and I will meet you there” you laughed as Bo climbed on top of you, clashing his lips against yours, hungry and lustful.
#my writing#horror#slasher#slashers#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair#house of wax 2005#vincent sinclair#imagine#slasher x s/o#slasher fanfiction#slasher fandom#x you
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Skywalker family AU fic, " Daddy's Jedi Robe"
" Oh no. Where is it?" The father groaned, crouching beside the living room sofa in search of his long dark Jedi robe. He stuck his arm underneath the furniture and felt for the garment but nothing touched his fingers. With a sigh, the young man rose to his feet and scratched his head.
" Have you seen my Jedi robe?" Anakin asked his wife.
Padme, standing by the kitchen unit preparing Panna cakes and crumpets, sipped on her tea.
" Not since last night my love."
Anakin peered behind the sofa and around the chairs in the room but there was no robe.
"Ive looked everywhere"! he exclaimed.
"It will turn up eventually". Padme offered.
" But if I show up at the temple without it, I will never hear the end of it from Obi wan. He will lecture me on loosing things again like before when I repeatedly misplaced my lightsaber."
Anakin exhaled again and stood, raking his brain for more possible locations he can look around their home.
" You will find it", Padme said, " but in the mean time, do you mind waking up Luke and Leia? Breakfast is almost done."
Anakin nodded and made his way to his daughter's room.
" Make sure they brush their teeth too", Padme called after him.
Anakin waved his hand to activate his child's room to find it empty.
Concern etched his features as he stepped inside.
"Leia"?
Anakin could feel the little girl's Force signature nearby and knew she was not kidnapped.
He'd never let anything happen to her, her brother or their mother.
Maybe she is with Luke , he wondered and walked out.
Sure enough, as Anakin entered his son's dissheveled bed room, there lay his princess resting with her twin in his bed. Luke's starship quilt and blankets littered the floor, along with a pillow.
Anakin raised a curious brow as he came closer and gaped as he noticed a long, raven colored robe clutched in between the children's fingers, each twin facing the opposite side of one another.
Anakin rolled his eyes.
Well at least I know where my robe is.
Anakin knelt beside his son, brushing the sun streaked locks away from his small forehead.
The affectionate touch roused the little boy and penetrating cerulean eyes fluttered open to meet another pair of piercing blue eyes staring back.
It did not take Luke long to remember what covered his body and he blushed innocently.
" What happened here hot shot"? Anakin asked with a smirk. He pointed to the abandoned blankets nearby then his Jedi robe.
A soft moan sounded and a mop of brown hair rose from the bed. Leia turned around and yawned. Rubbing her eyes, the girl froze when she saw her father.
" Hi daddy", she squeaked.
Anakin smiled.
" you two preferred my robe over your sheets"?
Luke pulled his father's robe closer to his chest as if unwilling to part with it.
" We could not sleep", Luke answered.
" You crept out"?
Luke and Leia did not say anything.
" We found your cloak thingy on the couch and took it here and cuddled with it and we fell asleep," Luke said.
" Why did you take it?" Anakin asked.
Leia looked down and fumbled with the robe before answering.
"It is warmer and more comfy than a blanket", she said.
" And it smells like you daddy and it helped us sleep like you were with us".
Anakin's heart swelled with overflowing love. It touched him that Luke and Leia adored him so much that something of his made them comfortable. He could never be upset with them.
"I am only a few feet away in the other room with your mother", Anakin pointed out.
" But you told us we were getting too big to lay with you and mommy", Luke reminded.
"True. However, if either of you truly need something, you can still come to us".
The twins beamed and then their father gently took his robe from his children's grasp.
" You can use it again if you like", he offered and Luke and Leia's smile widened.
The appetizing aroma of freshly cooked food wafted in the air, causing the children's heads to turn in the direction of the door. They hastily crawled out of the bed.
"Brush your teeth first", Anakin called after them, hearing a collective groan.
"But we want food now", his son whined.
Anakin walked out the room and met his children by the fresher, which he entered and beckoned them to follow.
" Your mother and I want your teeth brushed first and no rushing to get to your food faster either. Eating with a dirty mouth is gross you know".
The 6 year olds knew their father was right despite the delicious scent coming from the kitchen tempting their legs to race to the dining room table.
"Yes daddy", they said together and stepped into the fresher.
#anakin padme#anakin skywalker luke skywalker leia skywalker#star wars#anakin skywalker#skywalker family#au fanfic#Jedi daddy
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Lost In Your Current (P.3)
Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Three) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 2,052 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always
Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
Tony held her in place on the stairs. She was still, panting heavily and sniffling. Tony reveled in the feeling of his knot filling her up as he emptied.
“Not the best position to be in,” Tony murmured under his breath, laying possessive kisses along her shoulder. “Maybe you’ll behave better from now on though so you don’t find yourself here again. The bed would be far more comfortable…”
He sucked at her mating mark again before giving it a soft kiss.
Tony adjusted slowly with her, bringing her back off the stairs and laid down with her on the floor, an arm wrapped protectively around her. She was being good, letting him cuddle her close, not pulling at his knot to get away. Tony nuzzled into her neck, seeing that her eyelids were fluttering. She was sleepy. Well, thankfully this rug was plush and comfortable enough. He could settle down here too, keeping her tight against him.
He awoke from slumber sometime later to her fidgeting. Not just fidgeting, she was trying to press back onto him. His knot had released, and he had slipped out during his sleep. She let out a pathetic whimper and he got up on his elbow to peer over her shoulder at her.
“Alpha…” She begged, locking eyes with him.
He saw the haze in her eyes. She smelled sweeter than she had before, it flooding him as he shook the sleepiness. Tony felt her cheek. Her skin was hot, hotter than normal. Tony sensed it now that his head was a little clearer. And a smile broke out across his face. He had done it; he knew he would be able to. He had tripped his precious Omega into her heat.
“Help.” Her lip warbled.
Oh, he was going to.
His fingers slipped between her thighs, and he shuddered feeling – and smelling – how wet she was. She welcomed his fingers, rubbing herself against them for friction. He was tempted to slip fingers inside of her and play with her nub.
But that was not what he needed – or wanted – to get her off with. He was not going to do it down here again either. No, he was going to take her proper in his king size bed. He pulled away and her eyes followed him worriedly as he pushed himself up with a small grunt and got to his feet. She was propped up on her elbows, staring up at him.
“But, Alpha—” She looked rejected.
“Come on,” he encouraged her, beckoning her with a hand as he ascended the stairs.
She scrambled up, followed him eagerly, a mixture of anxiousness and arousal on her features. Like she was afraid he was going to leave her. He adored how she followed him like a lost puppy, just wanting to be close to him. It set his desire on fire to take her again, his cock twitching at the thought of knotting and marking her all over again.
He pulled her to him at the top of the stairs and ravaged her with kisses as he walked with her, half stumbling. He kept a tight grip on her to make sure she did not trip over her own feet and fall.
Tony tore her shirt over her head as they made their way into the bedroom, his hands running over her bare form, grasping and needy. He was losing himself again, growing rougher in his movements.
She was following his lead though, letting him man handle her onto the bed, positioning her. She waited, ass in the air for him as he undressed himself as quickly as he could. His eyes were drawn to her wet sex, and he inhaled deeply, drowning in her scent. His breath was coming now in short pants as he lined himself up with her entrance and slid in with ease. He sighed in contentment with her tight walls constricted around him and she keened in shared satisfaction.
As he drove into her repeatedly, he was encouraged by the sweet sounds and mewls his Omega made for him and him alone.
“You need me, Omega?”
“Yes, Alpha!” she answered breathlessly, her fingers wrapped up tight in his comforter.
“Like to feel me filling you up, don’t you?”
“Yes! Need you!”
He was getting close but first, he wanted to feel her come undone around him.
“Touch yourself, Omega,” he ordered gruffly.
She did as he asked immediately, her fingers caressing at her sex. She worked herself up to the point she was moaning obscenely, and she shook as she tightened. Tony praised her, thrusting faster, fingers digging in at her hips. He pressed in, locking himself in, his cock engorged. Waves of pleasure rolled over him as he emptied himself into her. He leaned down, his teeth sinking back into his target. She was pleased beneath him, used and spent.
When he had caught his breath, he hooked an arm around her and rolled with her to their sides.
“Wanna face you,” she complained pathetically.
“Not yet, Omega,” he told her gently, his nose nuzzling. “Just sleep for now. You’ll be up again in no time wanting more.”
<><><>
You woke up, curled into Tony’s side. You blinked, pulling away enough to look at his face, finding him sleeping soundly. It was daytime, the room lit with natural light.
How long had you been in here in the bed? You were sore all over, your chest, between your legs, your thighs, your neck. You felt like you were hung over. And you swallowed sharply feeling the two of you were both naked underneath the sheets. You were scented all over from him, you could sense it. The whole room smelled of sex mixed with both of your scents.
You remembered then.
You had run outside, and he had gotten his hands on you at the bottom of the stairs when you had tried to escape back up them. You had slipped underneath the fog then and everything else was a blur.
Hand coming to your neck, you winced when you felt the bite.
It was done.
There were traces of memory of him inside you, him only leaving the bed – much to your dismay especially when he ordered you to stay put – to bring you water. You had refused food, you remembered that.
Your eyes landed on Tony’s face again and you took in the features of your mate, examining differently now that you were this close to him. It was a new feeling, feeling his touch, the warmth of his body against you. It felt… right. You felt safe.
But you were craving a small space and a plush place to rest. The room seemed too big. Even with your Alpha here.
Tony’s arm was positioned underneath his head, and you were free to move.
You were deliberately slow, making sure to not rock the bed too much. You slid off the bed, keeping a wary eye on him. You wanted to do this without being caught. Your feet sunk into the carpet and your eyes searched the room. Your eyes fell on the blanket at the end of the bed, and you picked it up gently along with the other one that had fallen onto the floor. Shooting another look at Tony, you found him still asleep, and you moved towards his closet.
Drawn to the clothes he wore most often – the detergent did not remove him completely – you took some of them off the thick wood, curved hangers.
Silently, you left the closet, your arms full of the blankets and a collection of his sweaters and t-shirts. To your relief, the door did not creak when you opened it and slipped out.
<><><>
Tony shifted and half awake, he moved his arm, expecting to wrap it around Y/N who had fallen asleep tucked into his side.
Instead, he was met with an empty bed.
His eyes shot open, and he sat up quickly, seeing her side of the bed was indeed empty. Tony looked around the room wildly in panic as he threw his blankets back and got out of bed. The door to the patio was still locked and the windows were all closed. FRIDAY had not notified him that any of them had been opened either. His eyes shot to the bedroom door, finding it ajar.
Not again, he thought agitated. She should be obedient now!
He spared a few seconds to snatch his boxers off the ground and pull them on. Taking some steps around the bed, he noticed that the throw blanket that had been falling off the end of the bed and the one that had fallen to the ground during their passion were gone. He was confused about that but he did not waste any more time before he left the bedroom.
“Y/N?” he called out, keeping his voice devoid of the dread quickly seeping in.
As he came to the staircase, he heard a bump come from the guest bedroom behind him, causing him to come to a stop and face it. He walked into the room, finding the bed made. His eyes slid to the closet, and he saw the door was closed. He never left the closet doors closed. Coming over to it, he opened the door. He could make out the outline of a figure sitting on the ground further into the walk-in closet and he turned the light on. Y/N was sitting in a nest made of a mixture of his clothes and the missing blankets.
Tony knew about this too and he let out the tension in a long exhale seeing she was still in the cabin and was only building a safe space for herself.
<><><>
You were like a deer in headlights. You bit your lip, hoping he would not get mad that you had taken some of his clothes down off their hangers along with ones that had been in his hamper, and tucked them into your blankets. You were sure they were all expensive; you had seen some of the tags: Burberry, Ralph Lauren, Fendi.
“I’m sorry,” you said in a hoarse whisper when he did not move.
“For what?”
“Taking your clothes… and putting them on the ground.”
“You don’t have to be sorry about that. They’re just clothes. And plus, if it makes you feel safe, have at it.”
He was brushing it off without much concern, which set you more at ease.
“Why didn’t you just stay in my closet though?” he questioned, and even though he tried to hide it, you picked up on his apprehension. Staying in his room made sense, it kept you close where he could be sure you were more protected.
“I… my space,” you tried to explain but it sounded silly.
Tony contemplated for a moment before he shrugged, “Right. Okay.”
You could not tell if he was displeased or not. You shifted in the blankets and asked, “How long were we…”
“A few days,” he answered, catching what you were asking. His eyes ran over your body, resting on your abdomen for a few moments before meeting your eyes again.
As if on cue, your stomach rumbled. And it was loud. You felt heat creep.
“I was wondering when you were going to get hungry,” Tony said. He straightened up, his hand leaving the door handle of the closet door. “I’ll make you something to eat.” You nodded and he drug his eyes from you and turned, leaving you.
You craned your neck, watching him leave the room. He was in full protective mode. You could have it way worse than having Tony Stark as your Alpha. He was a superhero for godsake and rich to boot. He was established and you would be safe up here in the mountains. You sunk back into the blankets and picked up at one of his t-shirts, rubbing it in between your fingers.
The feeling you were going to get lonely without your friends and family though was eating away at you. You would have to deal with that as it came. Forcing the thought from your mind, you reached forward, grabbing another shirt from the pile still waiting to be assembled. You focused and looked to where it would fit best.
~~~
Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl
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Imagine...you meeting the pillars for the first time💕. (pt.4)
No.4 : Kanroji Mitsuri
Synopsis : It was a long,long day of training.You didn’t realized that it was already late noon until your stomach started to growl loudly,thank god that you were training alone,if not, “You may be embarrassed about this for the rest of your life” you thought.Ah-right,you still haven’t had lunch yet.Well,a little break wouldn’t hurt,right?And so,you went to the town,looking for something to eat.You decided that you want to eat at (restaurant of your choice) today,but coincidence or not.You’ve come across a girl who has a very long pink locks with light green colour spreading at her tips.She was looking at the poster which says “Come 2,pay only for one”.From the looks of it,it’s like she’s come alone and damn-it was that (restaurant of your choice)!You can’t let this precious opportunity to slip away,can you?So-you slowly started towards her and say “Sorry miss,did you come alone?” once you has reached her.Anddddddd...who knows what’s gonna happened,hm?
(Y/n) : “Um...sorry miss,did you come alone?” *You said quietly when you reached her*
Mitsuri : “Uh...yes?,do you...um...need something?” *She answered nervously,a little confused and scared to why would a stranger like you try to talk to her*
(Y/n) : “Well...um...I saw you looking at that poster for quite a moment and...well...-I figured that you might came here alone...like me...” *You reply her shyly out of excitement and doubts that slowly swarm in your mind,you can feel your sweat soaked in both your hands as you rub them together a little anxiously*
Mitsuri : “Oh!I see!” *Her eyes lit up brightly.She has a very beautiful pair of orbs with a light green colour that sparkle just like the emerald. “She’s really beautiful” you thought as you face started to turn into a little shade of pink* “Did you come here alone also?Oh wait-you already said that you come alone,sorry-haha,my bad!” *She said quickly with a big grin on her face,her face is also tinted pink from embarrassment *(man-that was so cute!)
(Y/n) : “Yeah!And so...I was wondering...if you...um...would like to eat with me...and I’ll pay for the half of one person and you pay for the other half...What do you say?” *You said,a little more relaxed,but your whole body is still tense and your face is still covered in pink*
Mitsuri: “Of course!What’s your name?” *She asks happily with a kind smile* “Oh!I almost forgot to introduce myself first!,Hi!I’m Kanroji Mitsuri!” *She said so!oh I don’t know what to say!so sweet and lively?as she held out one of her slim hand waiting for you to shake her hand* (Ahhhh!This girl is so adorable omg!!❤️I love her!💗)
(Y/n) : “I’m (l/n) (y/n).Pleasure meeting you here ms.Kanroji.” *You smile,a lot more relaxed now as you feel the tension finally leaving your body before you began to reach out for her hand*
Mitsuri : “Oh no,no!Please just called me Mitsuri,(y/n)-chan!And I’m also very excited to meet someone new like you!” *She squeaked and squeeze her eyes shut,her face is somewhat red as if she was thinking of something very cute with a very big grin while she was shaking your hand enthusiastically with both of her hands,you were a little shocked by how much of her energy and her power she has while she was shaking you hand. “She must be very strong” before you blink for a few times* “Ah!Did I shake your hand too hard?” *She asks,her voice is full of guilt and sadness as she gently let go of your hand*
(Y/n) : “No!no!Mitsuri-chan!You’ve done nothing wrong!Don’t worry about it!I’m fine!” *You reply quickly putting your hands up and shake them a little like trying to comfort her,fear that you made her feel bad*
Mitsuri : “Really?” *Her face lit up a little,she’s still worried that she has hurt you in some way*
(Y/n) : “Yes!Of course!Why would I lied to you?” *You watch as she started to finally smile once again,ah-that beautiful smile of her*
Mitsuri : “Thank you!(y/n)-san!Well then...what are we waiting for!?Let’s go inside!” *Her sweet voice rang through your ears as she drag you inside the restaurant along with her and you laughed airily*
A waiter in the restaurant : “Good day!Our dear customer!How can I help you?” *He politely asks while bowing a little*
Mitsuri : “We’d like a table for two people please!” *She happily reply*
A waiter in the restaurant : *He nodded his head and gesture his hand for you two to follow him while saying “Then please follow me this way” he bowed again and started to the direction of the table*
Mitsuri : “Let’s go over there (y/n)-chan!” *She started to pull you with her once again*
(Y/n) : “Ok!” *You grinned and she grinned back*
**You two were so cute like two children running around the restaurant with excitement that everyone in the restaurant have to bit back their laughter/smile and some have to let out a chuckle**
Mitsuri : “Omg!There’s a lot of delicious things!” *She quickly said once she’s sat down and got her menu,she let out a squeak when she found her favourite food in the menu,Sakura Mochi*
(Y/n) : “Oh yes!You’re right!” *You squeak along with her the moment your eyes met with a lot of delicious and alluring things called food.*
**As you and Mitsuri let yours and her eyes wander over the menu,the other people in the restaurant have to once again,restrain their laughter/smile/chuckle as they watch you two-no,two exciting children in amusement as they try to choose some of the delicious food in the menu out to order**
**After some moments have passed the waiter of the restaurant came to you both as you and Mitsuri beckoned him to come closer**
The waiter of the restaurant : “So what would you like to have,my ladies?” *He softly spoke with a kind and amused smile on his face*
Mitsuri : “Oh!I’m gonna have This one and this and that and that one and oh!last one!another 10 Sakura mochi please!What about you (y/n)-chan!?” *She looks up from the menu to look at your eyes with a smile.Not to mention that you and the waiter were so shocked by the amount of food she ordered.God,your jaw almost dropped to the table!*
(Y/n) : “I...um...guess I’ll have (food of your choice) please” *You state nervously,still shocked by what had just happened.The waiter quickly nodded his head before saying “Your orders will be serve after some moments,please kindly wait” he quickly grab the menu gently before bowing his head slightly and then he turned around and walked away after that*
(Y/n) : “Whoa...are you gonna eat all of that?” *You ask her quickly once the waiter is out of sight*
Mitsuri : “Well,yes!I eat a lot more than you think,you know?” *She shyly replied,her face blush a little as she put one of her hand up in a loose fist at the level of her lower cheek to her chin.(How cute! >//<)*
(Y/n) : “I see!That’s a good thing!” *You smile gently*
Mitsuri : “You think so...?” *She asks quietly,her face is a bit more red!*
(Y/n) : “Yes!Mitsuri-chan is always so cute!” *You grinned at her happily*
Mitsuri : *She grinned back a little bashfully* “Thank you (y/n)-chan....*
**After that you talk a lot about other things,I’ll let you imagine your own conversations with her (such as : your hobbies/talent,your day/life,your favourite food/colour/things and etc.Literally,anything that you wanted to talk with her.I’m sure Mitsuri is willing to listen to your every word or what you have to say and she’d be more than happy to just talk with you,whatever the topic is about as long as she’s comfortable with it!>;❣️(such a sweet girl right?yeah,I know,that’s why I love her so much!💝)**
-Time skip to when both your food was served!✨
Mitsuri : “Wow!It looks so yummy!” *She exclaimed as she looks at the delicious thing in front of her and then smell her food* “And it smells good...” *She trailed off,she’s so deep in the trance of her thoughts with her food,but she’s snapped out of her thoughts when you said...*
(Y/n) : “Yeah,I agree!Then what are we waiting for!?Let’s dig in!” *You speak so excitedly that Mitsuri’s mind was once again deep in thoughts as she’s held captive by your beauty. “How can anyone be so kind,sweet and beautiful just like you,(y/n)-chan?I doubt that there’s any person in this world that is just like you except you yourself...” Mitsuri thought.* “Mitsuri-chan?” *You quietly checked that if she’s still here with you by waving your hand in front of her face for a few times*
Mitsuri : “Y-yes (y/n)-chan?” *She quickly snapped herself out of her trance and force herself to look at you and give you all of her attention as she listened to what you were gonna say* “I’m sorry that I wasn’t listened to you (y/n)-chan...”
(Y/n) : “It’s alright Mitsuri-chan!Don’t worry!It’s just that...are you okay?I called out your name for a few times but you didn’t answer me!and it made me a little concerned about you!” *You quickly explain what had happened a few moments ago and Mitsuri now realized that you had caught her staring at you,STARING if you know what I mean.*
Mitsuri : “Oh!I...um!sorry!What were you saying (y/n)-chan?” *She replied you with red face,clearly flustered and embarrassed*
(Y/n) : “...I was saying that we better should dig in!You wouldn’t want to eat your food when it’s cold already,right Mitsuri-chan?” *You speak with your velvety voice that is so calm and kind,a small smile also present on your face as you think of how cute she looked when she’s all nothing but a completely flustered and embarrassed mess.*
Mitsuri : “Oh yeah!I wouldn’t want that!Now,let’s eat!” *She quickly replied,while trying to change the subject*
(Y/n) : “Mitsuri-chan,Are you sure that you’re alright...why do your face is so red...?” *Okay hear me out,you didn’t say this because you want to tease her-it’s out of pure concern!(Or so I thought...whatever!this is up to you,dear readers!Your choice if you want to tease her or not!❤️)
Mitsuri : “Y-yeah!I’m fine!Completely fine!It’s just um...a little hot in here-hehe!” *Mitsuri’s trying her best to keep her voice normal since she almost squeaked in her every word,but that still didn’t hide the fact that her face is so red*
(Y/n) : “Okay....if you say so!” *You’re still full of concerned to her,but you didn’t want to push her to make her uncomfortable or anything so you let it go*
**And at that you both started to eat your own food.She offer you some of her food and you also offer yours,you both tried to feed each other together at the same time as an exchange of both your food (And of course,both yours and Mitsuri’s face were as red as the tomato as you both try to feed each other),it ends up like a very-VERY cute couple trying to feed each other!And you both also exchange some words with one another while you eat (such as “It tastes so good!” or something like that OMG-).That was until you noticed that there was some food stuck at the corner of Mitsuri’s mouth before you speak...*
(Y/n) : “Hey Mitsuri-chan...” *You called out for her gently to make her look at you with a loving smile on your face*
Mitsuri : “Hmmmmm?Yes (y/n)-chan?” *She replied while her cheeks were still munching on her food,it was adorable you must admitted*
(Y/n) : *Without a word,you softly raised your hand and gently caressed away her food that was at the corner of her mouth* “You have a food stuck at the corner of your mouth,here...” *You kindly said as she stopped chewing and looked into your loving eyes*
Mitsuri : *Mitsuri suddenly felt hot,just only from the touch of your hand,which still didn’t leave her face it’s only caress farther to her bottom lips she opened her mouth a little with surprised “(y/n)-...chan?”.She was looking at you right in the eyes as your hand was still caressing her lips for quite a few more seconds with that tender smile on your face and your loving eyes before you pull your hand back and look down at the table with a quiet mumbling of “Sorry...if I made you uncomfortable...” “Oh no!It’s fine (y/n)-chan!I don’t mind” She said that even though her face was red,but you couldn’t say much...since your face was no different from her in redness.*
**You two were silent for some moments,before Mitsuri broke it (You didn’t notice that when you look down at the table,Mitsuri has that little shy smile on her face as she gazed gently at you)**
Mitsuri : “I-uh...I think that we should continued eating,shall we?” *She tried to light up the mood this make you smile a little because of how caring and sweet little thing she is*
(Y/n) : “Yes...” *You look up to her,smiling shyly.She also smiled at you before quickly saying...*
Mitsuri : “Oh and I almost forgot again!There’s a cherry blossom festival over there!Would you...would you like to come with me?I’ve heard that there’s a lot of interesting and also a lot of fun things to try!” *She asks,nervousness and expectations were full in her voice and face*
(Y/n) : *You nodded happily in return before you say...* “Sure thing Mitsuri-chan” *You replied quickly and you swear to god that you heard her sighed in relief* “Well then,maybe we should hurry up and go take a look at the festival together?” *You state with a smile*
Mitsuri : *She also nodded her head* “Yeah you’re right!Let’s hurry up and finish this (y/n)-chan!” *She said enthusiastically with a big grin*
**And at that you and Mitsuri hurry up and finished both your food before you both held hands together and left the restaurant to go and see that cherry blossom festival, “It’s gonna be a very fun and special day today!” You both thought as you happily ran together to the festival with both your hands still clutch together tightly....I’ll leave the rest to you my dear readers,you decide what happened next!✨💕.**
-Not to mention that when you two left and ran out of the restaurant,everyone in the restaurant has that smile plastered in their faces,they must thank to you both that they wore that smile for the rest of their day.Have a wonderful day,my dear readers!✨💕
Note.The arts are not mine!Credits to the artist!💝❤️
#Demon Slayer#Kimetsu no Yaiba#Kanroji Mitsuri#Mitsuri Kanroji#Demon Slayer x reader#Kimetsu no Yaiba x reader#Mitsuri x reader#Kanroji x reader#Kanroji Mitsuri x reader#Mitsuri Kanroji x reader#Anime x reader#xreader#bambam2550#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba
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Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader
--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--
Fucking bullshit.
You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?
Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.
The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.
Wait what?
What?
You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.
“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.
You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.
Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”
You are?
He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.
What?
“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.
You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.
“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.
“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.
You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.
This was an interesting development.
-
Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.
“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.
“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.
“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.
-
You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.
Fuck, this is weird now.
Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.
5:38. A notification flashes from last night.
baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?
You open the notification and type a quick reply.
you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?
With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.
-
It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence
“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.
You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.
You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.
You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.
No.
You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.
-
The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.
You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.
“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.
“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.
“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.
He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.
“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.
“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.
You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.
“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.
“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.
“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.
What?!
“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”
A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.
So stop it.
You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.
You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.
“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.
#nanami x reader#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen#Nanamin#nanami fanfic#archive of our own#spitprincess#spitty#my own work#original content#nanami x femme reader#kento#kento nanami x redaer
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Hope In Starry Eyes
Summary: It's a perfect moment, TK decides, and that's why he's going to ruin it. He doesn't deserve perfect — not yet. There are a thousand other ways to do this, but as his fingers dig into the tendons of Carlos' neck, he feels a shadow of a barrier between them. And while he knows that it's probably all in his head, he doesn't want to risk the off chance that it's real. He's not ready to lose this. He's not going to let Carlos go.
"Listen, about the other blowup at the firehouse."
You guessed it, another S02E12 Coda/Fix-It
TK isn't a bad guy in here, he's just full of regret and remorse and guilt. And he wants to apologise.
Rating: Teen and Up
Warnings: Mentions of that fight, deep emotional feelings, loads of regret, remorse and guilt.
Characters: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand, Mentioned Gabriel Strand, Mentioned Owen Strand
Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Difficult conversations, Mentioned pushing, Spoilers for S02E12, Carlos Deserved an apology, so I gave him an apology.
Word Count: 4524
Beta: The wonderful @lire-casander. This woman had re-read this fic so many times, I don't know how she didn't lose her mind. She's a queen who has held my hand through every up and down,, and I'm forever grateful.
Author Note: There are references and mentions of the fight, but it isn't explained in detail. It doesn't delve into TK's thoughts at the moment, only the aftermath and resulting emotions.
I understand that this has caused a myriad of discourse and arguments, but please respect that this is my own view of it, and it's of my own projections and how I think I'd react and deal with it — me being Carlos in this situation.
~~~
There's a tension that lays heavy on TK's shoulders, tightening around his torso and constructing his breath with every step he takes. It wraps around his chest and squeezes the comfort and security that he should be surrounded with out of his very bones.
He's feeling the events from the day weigh down on his soul — the firehouse blowing up, the shift from hell — and going back to his own house is only adding to the stress. He shouldn't feel this torn apart about going home, but he is.
Every step feels like he's walking on eggshells; careful and timid.
He's come bare, bag and belongings left back at the now blown-up firehouse — the locker rooms hadn't been affected, but everything in the firehouse is being investigated. All he has left with him is his keys, and only because they were already in his pocket. He gets to the front door, pausing with said keys ready between his fingers, giving himself a moment to calm down.
To a degree, he knows he has nothing to worry about, that there's no need to freak out. Objectively, he knows that they're alright, he knows Carlos said he forgave him. But between the firehouse blowing up, and his own mind, he's been fried thin, feeling weary and left empty, and as he looks down at his own hands with every deep breath, he remembers how they laid across Carlos' chest, shoving and pushing, over and over again.
Knowing is one thing though, and feeling like he’s walking on thin ice around his boyfriend ever since his outburst is completely different.
Guilt simmers deep in his stomach, as a hot flush of shame runs through his veins, for what must be the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours alone. He's been having the same reaction and rush of emotions all day, every time he remembers what happened, what he did.
He can only imagine how Carlos felt. Pushed by a man that says he loves him. Shoved further and further away until he was cornered with the fire truck at his back. Forced to react, either to defend himself or to de-escalate the situation by using physical force. The fire crew, a group that he opened his home to, watching from far away. Their eyes following as Judd ordered him to leave.
He's starting to get lost in his head, thoughts running wild, the darker side of his mind taking reins, when he hears the beginning of a tune from the other side of the door. It brings him back to reality instantly, back to his feet planted inches away from the door, his hands shaking by his side, his keys rattling between his fingers.
He steps back and takes a deep breath — he wants to make sure he commits to apologizing this time — and allows the exhale to take off some of the tension. He repeats it once, twice and a third time, stopping only when he feels his shoulders slightly drop, and the frowns on his forehead ease.
He's as ready as he ever will be.
With a determined fist, he shoves the key into the keyhole, twists the lock and gets himself inside his house.
The door is barely closed behind him when the sweet smell of chicken spices and soft tunes of a Reggaeton instrumental song immediately reminds him that this is his home, and not just a house. And if he ever had any doubts, the sweet and soft smile that Carlos greets him with is the only reminder he could ever need.
"Hey, babe," Carlos greets him softly, easy words and comforting eyes calling out to him and beckoning him closer. "Hope you came hungry. Just put the chicken into the oven."
TK barely stops for a moment, the action involuntary as his legs carry him deeper into the safety and security of their home. His eyes glance over the dining table, taking notice of the full dinner set-up laid out, complete with the sweet scent of raspberry candles that Carlos absolutely adores.
"What's all this?" TK asks in lieu of a greeting. "You, you didn't have to do all this."
"If my boyfriend's firehouse is going to blow up in the middle of a shift, I'm gonna make the most of it."
TK looks away for a moment, cursing his own mind for not thinking that Carlos would have heard about the explosions. You keep getting hurt, his mind supplies, and it hurts him too. He takes a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts away, and instead focuses on the fact that Carlos called him "boyfriend", with as much ease and confidence as he always had.
We're okay, he reminds himself. And yet, the guilt doesn't calm down. If anything, it rages wilder, the dinner and meal set in front of his eyes, both verbal and materialistic proof of his boyfriend's love laid out in front of him. He looks back up to face Carlos, only to find that he's focused on the cutting board, busy chopping away at carrots. He takes the last few steps forward, closing the distance between them, a million words on the tip of his tongue.
As Carlos looks up at him though, eyes sparkling and mouth set in a small smile, TK feels his own mind start to quiet down, and his lips move on their own accord, lifting up into a smile, his eyes drifting to meet the browns of his boyfriend's. He lifts a hand up, laying it on Carlos' shoulder, trailing the muscle up to the back of his neck.
"Hi," he greets, the word a soft breath in the small distance between them.
"Hi," Carlos smiles back.
It's a perfect moment, TK decides, and that's why he's going to ruin it. He doesn't deserve perfect — not yet. There are a thousand other ways to do this, but as his fingers dig into the tendons of Carlos' neck, he feels a shadow of a barrier between them. And while he knows that it's probably all in his head, he doesn't want to risk the off chance that it's real. He's not ready to lose this. He's not going to let Carlos go.
"Listen, about the other blowup at the firehouse."
Continue on AO3
#Tarlos fic#Carlos Reyes#TK Strand#Tarlos#911 Lone Star#911 lone star fic#emotional hurt/comfort#Spoilers for S02E12
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“Compare” - Kirishima
A/N: fuck i just got bored and this came out of my head, enjoy some shameless smut!
Pairings: Kirishima x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+ SMUT smutty smut smut, a lot of Kaminari bashing (sorry) and the tiniest bit of angst i guess? Alcohol consumption oh and also choking, biting, bruising etc
Summary: Kaminari and you are finished, officially. But what is he in comparison to your roommate Kirishima?
masterlist
“Go away Denki!”
“Come on babe look I already said I’m sorry-“
“Get OUT! I’m telling you don’t come by anymore!”
Your bedroom was strewn with his clothes, things he had left over at your place during the course of your relationship. With one quick swoop you gathered everything you’d thrown about and shoved it into his chest with enough force for him to have to balance himself after it.
“You’re texting other girls and all you can say is sorry?” You felt your blood boil, irises blown with pure seething anger. “I’m done with you Denki! I’m tired of you telling me to trust you when I obviously can’t!”
You took small steps towards him and he edged back, slowly leading him to the front door without him even realising it.
“Babe look-“
“No! Don’t call me that! Get your sorry ass out of here now!” You scream, almost loud enough to make the walls shake.
Denki shut his mouth and exhaled disappointedly, barely looking at you. He held the bundle of clothes tightly in his arms and left without a word. The relief of hearing your front door lock was music to your ears and letting your shoulders fall you gave a sigh.
“Hey uh you okay?” Kirishima, your roommate poked his head out from behind a corner sensing that it was all over.
“I am now.” You tried to calm your tone but there was still left over malice behind it.
Kirishima gave you a sympathetic look and without a word, went to the kitchen and came back with two bottles in hand.
“You kinda looked like you needed it.” He smiled, holding a bottle out to you.
On further inspection it was a beer bottle and you took it with a small ‘thanks’ before heading to the living room, practically throwing yourself on it with your lips attached to the neck of the beer.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Like you didn’t hear all of it.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t wanna discuss it.”
“He’s just a dick who I gave too many chances and now I’m suffering the consequences.” You sigh, gulping the bitter liquid down to wash away the hot anger in your throat.
“Yeah what he did wasn’t exactly cool.” Kirishima muttered, following your stance in drinking. “He didn’t deserve you anyway.”
His comment took you a bit by surprise but right now it didn’t even show on your face. Too numb from the events prior.
“I’m still even wearing this dumb shirt he got me.” You grumble, pulling at the fabric with disdain.
“Do you wanna take it off?” Kirishima said before spluttering into his next statement: “Wait not like that I mean like do you wanna change?”
You chuckle at your roommate, honestly you couldn’t ask for a better one. Super nice, always helped do his bit with the apartment, super hot and an absolute gentleman. But you never really considered the third option when you were with Kaminari.
“I’ll leave it on.” Writhe in the sadness of it all being gone. “Just a little while longer.”
Kirishima looked you up and down with a small smile before pulling his phone out his pocket.
“Well I say we order takeout and watch badly rated Netflix movies.” He gave you a toothy grin as he showed you on his phone that he’d already had your favourite takeout place’s website on the screen.
“You read my mind Eiji.”
-
After a long while of you and Kirishima drinking and awful lot of beer and consuming a lot of take out, you two lay on the couch hazily talking with a movie paused half way through because the two of you got bored of it.
“Fuck like I know he’s your friend but he’s such a dick!” You giggle, face flush with your drunkenness, just like Kirishima’s.
“No you’re so right oh my god he’s barely even a man sometimes!” He jested, finishing whatever was left in his latest bottle of beer.
“Oh god even like the sex, Jesus for once I’d like to come too yknow?” You didn’t even fully realise that you had said that out loud as you went for a sip, blocking Kirishima’s shocked face.
“Wait really?” He asked innocently enough. It was weird how close you two had gotten in your drunken stupor, almost a hair away from actually touching.
“Yeah it fucking sucked.” You roll your eyes and there’s a long beat before the two of you say anything. Letting the uncomfortable air swarm around you.
“How come you’ve never had a girl over? Like I’ve never seen you with a girl as long I’d been with Denki.” You turn to face him, only to find that he’s already looking you over, as if seeing you in a new light.
“S’nothing really. Guess I just couldn’t find someone right.” He had a different thought in his head but he was scared to let it out, but the alcohol was pushing it to the forefront of his mind.
“Come on, not even one person?” You elbow him lightly and he looks away, a small smile peeking on his lips.
“Well the one person happened to have a boyfriend at the time.” He looks back up at you and it takes you a moment or two to figure out he means you. But in the few seconds that pass Kirishima’s face edges closer to yours, almost waiting for you to pull back but you don’t. Then your lips meet.
He tastes like beer but he smells like him and it’s heaven to your senses. You can’t help but run your hands through his hair as he grips your waist tightly. Before too long your kiss becomes heated, almost too drunk at some points as your teeth clash but you haven’t felt a spark like this in so long.
Kirishima guides you gently so you can straddle him as you kiss, your hands now ghostly moving underneath his shirt to trace his abs and you can feel him grow harder through your pyjamas and his basketball shorts. He takes your hint and breaks the kiss for breathing space and for him to clumsily tug off his shirt.
Seeing your lips bruised from kissing and your eyes dilated from pure lust made Kirishima absolutely feral for you, his hands greedily pulling you back in to have another taste of you before completely flipping you over on the couch so that he could look down on you.
“You look so fucking beautiful-“ He mutters against your lips, his hips rutting against yours carelessly but it feels so good right now you barely notice.
Kirishima pulls back before grabbing the hem of your shirt, a small smirk prying on his lips as he easily tears it in two, helping your arms slip out after before tossing it away.
“Eiji!”
“I didn’t need him in my way anymore.” His voice is a low growl as he kisses down your neck, your small whines vibrating your throat. Kirishima bites gently at your supple skin before kissing the pain away while his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra.
Seconds of kissing and throwing off clothes feels like hours but neither of you care as you feel each other.
“Fuck you’re so fucking wet already for me baby-“ Kirishima’s fingers rub against your folds before beckoning them to your lips to suck which you happily oblige. You hear his moan gargle in his throat as you twirl your tongue around his digits.
Taking his fingers out of your mouth, he holds your chin gently with his thumb and finger; pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as he slides in you. His hip stutter againsts yours as he feels your body taking him in.
“Fuck you feel so fucking good around my cock baby girl.” His hand slips down to the side of your neck, squeezing slightly as he begins to move.
“Please Eiji oh my god-“ You gasp, your back arching in pleasure as you feel so full with him.
“Please what baby? Come on, use your words.” His sentence is slightly drawn out with gasps as he moves inside you. He gives a slight warning squeeze to your neck as speaks which makes you whine even more.
“Fuck please fuck me Eijiro, ruin me.” Your last words are almost a whisper but it’s enough for him to pick up his pace, a devilish look on his face. His hands slip to your chest, pinching at your nipple and twirling them beneath his fingers as he grunts.
Kirishima leans down, pressing sloppy kisses along your chest and over your breasts while teasing with your nipples to make you squirm beneath him. While one hand holds your waist tightly enough to not hurt but would definitely leave bruises while the other rubbed circles on your clit, nearing you to screams which you held back and let them gargle in your throat.
“Don’t hold back baby-“ Kirishima said with one long drawn out thrust as he leant to whisper in your ear. “I want the whole apartment complex to know how good I’m fucking you.”
His voice nearly makes you see stars as you scream out his name, you’ve never seen him look so cocky but it gave you shivers all the way up your spine and straight to your stomach as you felt a familiar tension begging to be released.
“Fuck fuck fuck Eiji I’m gonna come fuck-“ You’re breathless as he shamelessly fucks in and out of you, holding your legs tightly around his waist so he can get the perfect angle.
“Come all around my cock princess.” Kirishima moans, feeling you get tighter around him as he neared his high too.
As you came it sent shockwaves down your body that you felt like you were flying but breaking apart at the same time, it wasn’t too long before Kirishima followed too, white ropes of come filling you up until he was bent over you panting.
“Fuck- That was amazing.” You place a hand on his face to turn it to look at you, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.
“Better than Kaminari?”
“Doesn’t even compare.”
#kirishima#eijiro kirishima#kirishima smut#kirishima angst#kirishima fluff#kirishima fanfic#kirishima x reader#kirishima headcanons#kirishima imagine#kirishima fic#kirishima oneshot#kirishima x you#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boko no hero academia#mha imagine#bnha imagine#mha smut#bnha smut
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Flour Cheeks;; YHS
Word Count;; 1.6k
Genre;; Fluff Overload!
Pairing;; Hongseok x Reader
Summary;;
While you understand that some mornings you'll wake up alone, your curiosity does get the better of you when you realise your boyfriend has chosen to leave the comfort of your shared bed despite not needing to. It's warm, fluffy, and soft and filled with the possibilities of additional dreaming and yet you soon find yourself also being drawn away from its comforts.
Request;;
Hiii! Can I please request something fluffy with Pentagon's Hongseok? Maybe cooking him and y/n cooking and being all cute? Thank you!! <333
Warnings;;
None!
Notes;;
I remember him cooking well in one of his lives so I went to look for it and found the waffle incident instead ahsjjdkfkg. Also sorry I took longer than I said I would! Our parents stopped by while we were doing our laundry and I didn't have time to write like I thought I would. Hope you enjoy this all the same and...
Happy late birthday to our Honk Honk! ♡
My Masterlist
Sunlight streamed in through the curtain's gap to cover the duvet in splashes of yellow and white. It brightened the room, forcing you to squint while you checked your phone's notifications. With a huff, you tossed the device back onto the bedside table and closed your eyes once more.
It was getting late. The sun was high in the sky as if to taunt you for your laziness and the room warmed beneath its abundant rays. You soon found yourself kicking the bedding clear off the mattress as you flipped over and away from the window.
Due to the lack of your boyfriend's firm chest to stop you from invading his side of the bed, your initial roll was followed by another, more exaggerated flop. Spreading your limbs with a strained sigh, you once again tried opening your eyes. The room was still bright but you pushed through the searing discomfort to search for Hongseok.
Though the bathroom door was only propped open by a sliver, the lack of light and movement was enough for you to write it off as empty. The bedroom itself provided a similar scene: devoid of Hongseok but with small clues as to his whereabouts. His house shoes were moved but his phone was still on the charger. The dresser hadn't closed all the way, catching on one of his shirts. He had been in a rush and yet he hadn't dressed to go out, having grabbed clothes from the casual section of his wardrobe.
You chuckled and shook your head. Whatever had been on his mind wasn't important enough to wake you up and you were grateful for the additional rest. Stretching once again, you pushed the remainder of the bedding off with a yawn before curling up into a ball.
His side of the bed smelled like him (surprise, surprise) and you enjoyed the mornings when you could sleep in after he left almost as much as the mornings you woke up beside him. You pushed your face into his pillow and sighed. His body wash and shampoo flooded your senses. It was comforting and it made you feel safe because he made you feel safe.
You inhaled breath by breath, drifting off to sleep until the soothing scent of Hongseok dissipated and was replaced by the strong, undesirable scent of burning. Your eyes snapped open a step slower than your body that had already slid out of bed. Without stopping to grab your shoes or to throw on pants, you fumbled out of your shared bedroom.
The apartment wasn't huge and it didn't take long for your legs that were in pursuit of the smoke to stumble into the kitchen. Inside you took note of your handsome boyfriend wearing that ridiculous apron you had bought him as a gag gift for his last birthday. Flour graced his tanned cheeks and you fought back a laugh, biting your lip to keep yourself silent. His expression was both serious and exasperated while he observed the steady pillar of smoke escaping the miniature waffle maker.
"If you make it too obvious, the insurance won't pay out," you teased. His eyes latched onto your form, lingering on your bare thighs that peeked out from beneath his oversized shirt. A grin formed on his lips as he beckoned you to his side. You were quick to oblige. "So what's up? Making breakfast?"
"Good morning beautiful. I can't answer any questions until I have a kiss." He tapped his cheek twice. Powder still marked them. You leaned around him to grab a kitchen towel and you found it through memory rather than sight, your gaze focused and locked onto his. Though he tapped his foot in impatience, he was smiling and mischief shone in his eyes.
The cloth wasn't the softest material so you were cautious of how much pressure you exerted on his soft skin. It wasn't until you pulled away to admire your handiwork that you noticed the towel (and most of the surfaces nearby) was also covered in flour and your attempt to wipe away the powder had only created a bigger smudge. Your whole body trembled with the bottled-up laughter brewing deep in your chest. "What? What's so funny?"
"You're covered in flour, baby." You managed to force the words out before you let loose and your laugh filled every corner of the room. Hongseok frowned and turned away from you, focusing his attention back on the waffle maker. At least it was no longer smoking. Next to the appliance was a plate of… something you couldn't quite identify. "And what the hell is that?"
"What? That? You can't tell? It's clearly a waffle. And here I thought you were cultured," he said, his voice strained as he tried to pry the appliance open. Upon noticing the secured latch, you nudged him aside and popped the lock before flipping the lid open. Out of instinct his arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you back away from the billow of steam that rushed upward out of the small machine.
"What's the point of using the waffle maker if it doesn't make waffles?" He whined, resting his head on your shoulder.
"Did it make that"—distaste crossed your face as you gestured toward the plate of goop—"mess too?"
"No, I tried… it doesn't matter. The last resort is the other waffle maker."
"Or maybe we should stop now while we're only at two losses?"
"I'm a man who never gives up, baby. You know this."
Hongseok flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with determination as he cleared the counter. While his attention was on whipping up another batch of mixture, you decided to clean up his prior attempts. You scraped off the goo from the plate and ran it under hot water while you disconnected the miniature waffle maker and waited for it to cool down enough to soak the inner dish. The dishes stacked up in the sink and the small tower of plastic threatened to collapse like a Jenga tower when you added the last powder bowl Hongseok had discarded to the top.
"So what's the special occasion?"
"Are you kidding or do you owe me a massage?"
A massage? That could only mean-
Shoot!
"I was just kid-"
"Looks like my honey bunny owes me a massage! What a great start to our anniversary!"
"But I didn't forget!"
"Nah uh. I said the same thing last year, I was in the same boat, and you didn't go easy on me so I don't think I'll go easy on you, either."
"Hongseokkie," you pouted, jutting out your lips as you pulled on his arm. Your mind wandered when he flexed under your grasp, his muscles toned and strong. His efforts at the gym never went unnoticed. He continued his attempt to mix the blueberries and bananas into batter, oblivious to how your gaze devoured him. "I didn't forget."
"If I say I believe you, will you give me a massage anyway?"
"Maybe."
"Well I don't believe you."
You scoffed, a playful smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, "Alright, alright. Fine, I forgot, and you'll get your massage as owed. Now will you please abandon this futile waffle mission? We can just have our usual instead. Nothing beats healthy, anyway."
"Abandon as in give up? Who do you think I am? I'm going to make you the best damn waffles, just you watch."
"Right, right. Of course. And I'll try not to starve in the meantime."
He ignored your comment and focused on pouring the batter into the second waffle maker. This one was bigger, at least in comparison to the miniature maker. The miniature (theoretically) baked bite-sized waffles with little snowflakes on them. This regular-sized and completely average waffle maker had no special gimmick. It was straight-forward and easy to use.
Except that it wasn't.
Once Hongseok's pride diminished just enough to summon you back into the kitchen, you found yourself also struggling to make a single waffle that could pass as a waffle. None of your creations were recognisable as a breakfast treat. Some weren't even recognisable as food. Several plates of "waffles" had built up, each featuring varying degrees of baked all the way from gooey to charred. Your solo attempts hadn't fared any better.
"Can we give up yet?"
"No." He grabbed a piece of overcooked waffle from the maker and frowned. Half of the batter was close to burning while the other half was still liquid. With great caution, he nibbled on it. The regret was immediate. He thrusted it in your direction. "Try this."
"Gross," you said, pretending to gag. He took the opportunity to shove the waffle piece into your mouth. You swatted him away seconds too late. He laughed, dodging your flailing hits. Though crunchy and quite dry, the waffle wasn't actually that bad. It could be worse, you thought, eyeing the discarded plates. Much worse.
"So…"
"So…" you echoed. When he didn't continue, you nudged his slumped shoulder. His expression screamed disappointment upon looking at the numerous attempts which then morphed into irritation as he glared at the appliance and its lustrous shine. Despite the abundance of use it had undergone over the last few hours, it looked brand new and somehow clean. "While this has been quite the adventure, should we settle down with some oatmeal and relax?"
"You want to give up?"
"On the waffles? Yes. I'd rather cuddle with you than fight with this clearly defective waffle maker."
"Waffle makers," he empathised, glaring over at the abandoned miniature version.
"If nothing else, we've created a memory that will last a lifetime and I can't think of a better gift to receive on our very special day."
"I can think of something." You knew by his cheeky grin just what he planned to do and before he even raised his finger, you began to lean into his space. He pointed at his cheek all the same and awaited your kiss. Once again you laughed at his cute antics but this time you followed it up with a kiss.
#yang hongseok#hongseok x reader#pentagon x reader#kpop x reader#pentagon#kpop#yang hongseok x reader#kpop fluff#pentagon fluff#hongseok fluff#reader insert#pentagon fanfic#kpop fanfic#hongseok fanfic#kpop pentagon#kpoptrashlord-007#soft hours#pentagon soft hours#kpop soft hours
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Player Three (M)
— Something that's always been an infatuation for Jooheon, the way you take Minhyuk's fingers - but an attempt can only last so long until senses turn keen.
DETAILS — [ 18+ | drabble | 1.8k ] PAIRING — jooheon x fem! reader x minhyuk GENRES — smut WARNINGS — mature content, sexual content, fingering (fem! receiving), jealousy, mentions of thigh-riding, slightest mention of breath-play, some dom/sub tones but not specified, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty-talking, unintended edging, cum-eating, masturbation, oral (fem! receiving), this is just filth sorry!
The cackle of the man at your waist brought chills across your skin, Jooheon's eyes fluttering in light blinks. You could see the wheels turning through his view, knowing fully that his mind was filled with the words he would receive from your second partner when he returned home — but nothing could hold in the groans he released.
Your juices squelching inside of your core made your hips buck up into his hand, a pout on his lips as he hummed. "No-no, you let me do the moving." A practical hiss, it was his turn to glide two fingers into you.
Always captivated in the way the two men held their positions with dignity, they still managed to bump heads from time to time. Minhyuk was always the one to drill his slender fingers against your walls until he had you squirming and calling his name. Jooheon's eyes would bask in the way you would ride the older man's hand until he believed you had enough, placing his opposite hand on your abdomen and holding you down to move his digits faster. It was like an earthquake every time you orgasmed, and Jooheon wanted that experience for himself.
And here you were with the man's digits two knuckles deep, quivering below him only to witness him shutter, himself. Jooheon knew the buttons to push, he had you on his thigh the minute you walked into the bedroom. His hands holding at your hips to give your core friction forced your head to fall back, whispers of his name too faint to keep him at bay. It wasn't just the experience, but something he cared about in the moment — and Jooheon always got what he wanted.
His hands stretched to open his fingers within you, a moan breaking your sore lips apart. Something Jooheon always reveled in, your lips swollen and red from his own kissing you deeply. He loved the feeling of his kisses sweeping the oxygen from your lungs, the breeze of your exhale passing the kiss before you sucked in another. It was a game he could never lose, only gain pleasure from— knowing how much he affected you.
But he was out of place, venturing in a territory he never quite went. And as most senses endured within a situation, Minhyuk's ears were burning. The man so calm and playful would have his skin run hot until his legs jerked and he had to make a move. So patient, endearing, you could feel the breeze of the bedroom door swinging open before you could smell his scent.
The air in the room was so thick Jooheon could only gulp and still his fingers inside of you. Your whine halted by Minhyuk's finger raising in your direction for you to stay silent — he too, knows you too well.
"What do you think you're doing?" Jaw clenched, he was almost seeing red. The agreement was broken, and the men's chest were both huffing with unsolid breaths.
"P-Playing with her like you do." Wronged, and he knew it before the words left his tongue. Jooheon was shaking against you, placed on his knees with his hard length against his thigh.
The man was nearly prey as Minhyuk moved closer, standing at the side of the bed to access the situation. Jooheon's fingers deep within your pussy, the wetness coating his hand more than you usually released meant you had orgasmed before his hand went to work. All the right places in all the right time, Minhyuk only nodded.
"Then let me see you finish her." Tongue between his aligned teeth, his eyes glanced between the shifting man on his knees and your form beckoning for one of them to just make a move. "If you can-"
"I can!" A button of his own, Jooheon hates being second-guessed or played with.
"Go on."
His index finger moved first, brushing against your walls. Mimicking the movements he had witnessed Minhyuk do so many times, your back turned towards the patient man watching. Hand stretched out for him to take, he merely swatted your grasp away, too infatuated with the clenching of your core around Jooheon's fingers.
Another sentiment to being with the pair, they evened each other out in a whimsical way. Jooheon was on the thicker side, the width of his body and his cock adding to your pleasure with a fine stretch. Minhyuk was more on the skinny side, his lengthy digits always delving in as deep as they can go to reach the one spot that had you seeing white, just as his cock could do in a single thrust. The two could send your body into so many waves of orgasms that you would float.
The pads of Minhyuk's fingers pressed into his lips when his teeth released the skin, eyes set on how Jooheon's form was shaking under his deep glare. Your sight was blurred from the appending orgasm, the rushed feeling being pleasured set at bay a second time.
The standing man leered forward, jerking at Jooheon's fingers within you to pull him away before placing a gentle kiss to your stomach. Minhyuk's soft locks ran across your bare skin as his lips traveled down, a light tap to your clit causing you to bounce on the large mattress. A defined look on his face when his eyes turned towards Jooheon, the man had grown three times smaller in the process.
"You're not even doing it right." He hissed. Minhyuk's hand entrapped Jooheon's wrist, raising his coated fingers to be adjacent with both of their faces. His fingers stretched just the same as Minhyuk's did, their hands connecting palm to palm in an effort to show the difference in their length. "You see this, pretty boy?"
Jooheon could only nod, eyes watered with Minhyuk's overpowering glare. Their eyes glazed and glued to your liquids between their fingers, Minhyuk's hand only pushing harder to collect your arousal. A slick sound as they pulled from one another, your juices were placed onto Minhyuk's tongue a moment before his opposite hand turned Jooheon's head in your direction.
Mind so lost at the sight before you — you didn't dare touch yourself, but they knew you were keen to if they continued. A hum from Minhyuk's throat only battered your core more, his slicked fingers still barely draped with your arousal as his saliva gave an extra lubrication. His elongated fingers pushed into you, your hands rising to take hold of the pillow below your head. Back perfectly arched for them over a second pillow - a tendency of Jooheon's sensitivity to care for you first - Minhyuk's fist balled the skinny pillow in his opposite hand from the sounds created by your wet core. His eyes almost rolled back into his head when he thrusted his middle finger in to the brim, the rest of his hand cupping you as his palm brushed against your clit. So vague, the little sensation made your thighs quiver. Jooheon's length was thrusted into his own grasp, hand lubricated with your juices and the saliva from his mouth after a single lick. Whether or not the two men were on the same page, their minds worked the same — the scent of sex in the air only blowing their pupils and making the hair on their bodies rise.
"This is how you do it." Words muffled by his own tongue pressing into his top lip, Minhyuk listened to your core clench around his fingers, the same squelch Jooheon experienced echoing in the room an additional time. "Slow and hard." You could feel every knuckle pull from within your walls, endure the same digits pounding back into you — but it was the clenching of your core around the fingers he gave you that had the man, himself, going mad.
Hand once holding the pillow below you released the fabric, colliding with his length to pull it from his soft pants and into the open air. Jooheon's mouth fell open, your eyes finding solace in the two men witnessing each other in a euphoric state. The comfort they had always given you, the care for one another — they seized any awkwardness through their own friendship and ignited every nerve in your body each time they came together.
Minhyuk's fingers bottomed out in you when his hand wrapped around his length, hissing at his thumb brushing over the tip and hypnotized by the way both you and Jooheon turned your full attention to him. Cock reddened from waiting his turn, his fingers removed from your core to leave you empty for a moment. Liquids glazing his cock and making his hips stutter, it was his turn to get on his knees above the mattress and fuck into his own hold.
Clouded and fading, his fingers found your core once more. Jooheon was delirious from his view, his sight not knowing which of you to focus on before he huffed and bent over. You could feel the tips of Minhyuk's fingers brush the spot you loved most within your walls, body rocking up into him as a sudden pressure was applied to your abdomen again. Jooheon's hand felt your hot skin, his grip on his cock turning rapid. Lips engulfing your clit, his tongue barely had to graze the bundle of nerves before you were rising from the bed.
Minhyuk's side glance at Jooheon was enough to turn you over, body shaking under the two men as your orgasm finally drove through you. Every limb numbed, every thought only of them, their names spilled off your tongue like curses.
"Oh!" A broken cry of pleasure, Jooheon's lips sucked at your clit more when his name was called. "Fuck, just-"
"Just what." The first voice crack of Minhyuk’s voice ensued, claiming that he was getting close to his own white wall. A derivative during such a sentimental moment, his cock twitched in his hand at the way you read his words meaning to be degrading. Your eyes finally rolled as you vibrated. Jooheon's plump lips pulled from your clit with a lasting lick while Minhyuk's fingers separated and scissors the inside of your walls to draw your orgasm from you completely.
So drained and loved, Jooheon's words were barely broken syllables as he fell forward. Cumming on your waist and side, his forehead fell against your stomach as he breathed you in. A moment of peace was followed by Minhyuk's hardy thrusts into his hand, Jooheon's dark and dazed eyes meeting the kneeling man. White liquid spurted from his cock, his back hunching forward in tandem with the orgasm as he fell at your opposite side.
Only heavy breaths fill the room, the stickiness of their cum painting your skin in the most affectious way. Minhyuk's hand rose to draw patterns into your skin, Jooheon's faint moans a telling sign that he was still mentally finishing himself.
"Okay, baby." Minhyuk called up at you. Jooheon's eyes were pleading, tired and nearly red. "He can do what he wants to from now on, but with one rule-"
Attentive towards Minhyuk, both of your ears perked.
"I get to play, too." he grinned.
monsta x m.list | navi.
#monsta x smut#mx smut#jooheon smut#minhyuk smut#monsta x imagines#monsta x scenarios#mx imagines#mx scenarios#monsta x x reader#mature#fic: player three#tw jealousy#tw edging#tw degredation#monstax.drabble
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Fireproof
Peter Parker x Reader
NSFW
Warnings: Smut; Sex pollen.
The request:
This is for @idiosadeoro who wanted Virgin!Peter, hypersensitive cause of his spider sense, and the bunch of anons who wanted Sex pollen/Fuck or die. Hope this caters to your tastes. Preparing for Halloween, this is the most fucked up thing I wrote so far 😘
Also, Infinity war? Endgame?? NOT IN THIS HOUSE.
MY MASTERLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST
You were so fired.
So fucking fired.
That was the only thought going through your mind, on repeat as you made your way to the med bay. You tried to focus on that, because if you were to think even for one second about what you were about to do, you'd never be able to go through with it.
With shaky fingers and your heart pounding inside your chest hard enough to break your ribs, you punched the code in the security panel and watched the light go green. This was it, your moment of truth. You squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.
Peter knew it was you even before you spoke, there was a shift in the atmosphere, the stale air inside the bay was suddenly electrified, every one of his senses coming alive. He wished he could blame the god damned pollen, but he had long before memorized the cadence of your footsteps, the smell of your perfume. He could recognize your heartbeat in a room full of people. The truth was he had had the most desperate, hopeless crush on you from the very moment Tony had showed up in the lab with you in tow, and announced the two of you would be working together.
On a normal day, he had enough trouble controlling himself around you enough not to blurt out his feelings, but now, with the freaky alien sex pollen stuff in his system?..
“Peter?”
He feigned sleep where he was on the gurney, refusing to open his eyes. If he so much as saw your pretty face, his control would snap, he just knew it. You stepped closer.
“Y/n, it’s not a good idea for you to be here right now” he tried to warn you, but you kept on coming closer, he could feel the heat coming out of your body even feet away, every pore of his skin opening to soak up your warmth. You were saying something, and he should probably listen but you were way too close now, a whiff of your scent, flowery and sweet and female reaching his nose.
Before you could blink, he had you pinned against the wall, every inch of his firm, lithe but muscular body pressed against yours, hard planes against soft curves.
“I mean it, y/n, it’s extremely dangerous for you to be in the same room as me until Mr. Stark comes up with an antidote” His nose was practically touching yours, his breath hot against your face.
And you could actually see it, the danger he was talking about. It was there, in his eyes, the raw hunger, the barely contained desire. It made shivers run down your spine, cause you knew if he was to loose control, you would be powerless against his super strength.
For the first time ever, you were afraid of Spider-man.
But this was what you had come here for in the first place, wasn’t it? There was no antidote, at least none that would work with his enhanced metabolism. The same metabolism that was processing the alien substance twice as fast. Time was running out, and Steve and Tony were still up in the lab, debating the moral implications of getting Peter an escort.
So you swallowed your fear, and crushed your lips to his.
He returned the kiss right away, tongue parting your lips, forcing his way into your mouth. The sound that left his throat at the first taste of you was not unlike that of a wounded animal. You swallowed it, head spinning, grateful for being trapped between the wall and his body, your knees suddenly to weak to support your own weight.
Your fingers buried themselves in the curls at the back of his head by their own accord, tearing another moan out of him. He released your lips only to latch his to your neck, kissing, sucking, nibbling with no finesse or technique whatsoever.
“I can’t stop” He was murmuring between kisses, burying his apologies into your skin, “I can’t stop, I’m sorry”
It was the truth. He had tried to downplay the effects so as not to worry Tony even more, but ever since he had gotten covered in that weird pink dust, it had been hard to breath, his lungs, loins, skin, everything felt on fire.
The first taste of your lips, of your tongue, of your spit, had felt like a mouthful of fresh water, cooling down his insides. The first relief he had had in hours.
But it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed you.
He parted your knees with one of his own, thigh rocking against your center.
It made you moan. The very first sound he had coaxed out of you, and it made his blood boil inside his veins. A new scent filled his nose, almost cloyingly sweet. He reclaimed your lips with a growl when he realized he was smelling your arousal.
One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he ravaged your mouth, the other one popped open the button of your jeans and slid inside to where the heath between your legs was beckoning him. His hands were hot, leaving scorching trails in their wake. One finger found your entrance, diving in, pumping steadily in an out until you were shamelessly moving your hips, riding his hand, chasing your release.
It was embarrassing, you had never come so fast in your life but there was no mistaking the feeling coiling up inside you, tighter and tighter until it had no choice but to explode, making you cry out into Peter’s mouth.
He could have stayed like that until his death, fingers still lazily thrusting inside you, devouring those delicious little sounds from your mouth... But he noticed your hands, a second ago tugging so good at his hair, now on his chest, trying to push him away. It teared him in half, every cell in his body screaming in pain, but he complied, taking a step back. You stumbled a little on your feet.
“Please” He breathed out, voice breaking. He needed you, he would literally die… He could have sob in relief when you got rid of your lab coat and he understood you only wanted to get undressed, but he still had enough presence of mind to stop you.
“No” You met his eyes, confusion clear in your face, “Not here” Not where there were cameras, not where he didn’t even had a proper bed to lie you down. If he was finally going to make you his, he was going to do it right, pollen or not.
A voice in the back of his head reminded him that you weren’t his, you were only doing this to save his life, but he pushed it aside, as he picked you up as if you were weightless -for him, you probably were- and took you to the little on-call room right outside the bay at breakneck speed.
He placed you softly on the bed and got rid of his clothes so quickly it had to be a record, before moving to help you out of yours. He covered your body with his perfect one, your skin was so soft, so pliant under his hands, so cool against his own feverish skin, soothing him like a balm, he wanted nothing but to bury himself into you. But he admitted, voice small and shy and so Peter it almost broke your heart.
“I- I have no idea what I’m doing…”
He felt you froze underneath him and leaned back to look at your stunned face.
“You’ve never..?”
He shook his head no.
“But, you and MJ, wasn’t she your girlfriend until like, college?
“She’s ace. I respected that.” He replied simply.
“But, back in the bay, if you've never done… anything, what was that?”
He half shrugged,
“A shot in the dark?”
He was freaking natural, then. And you? You were going to hell.
You just knew it, cause never before you had had an Innocence kink, but Peter “Perfect bubble butt” Parker was a virgin, and you were all for it, licking your lips and planning a thousand different ways to corrupt him before the night was over.
You pushed at his shoulders and he let you manhandle him until he was the one on his back on the mattress, and you were straddling his thick, gorgeous thighs.
He watched you, mesmerized, as you raked your fingernails down his torso, leaving red trails, catching on his nipples, making him hiss. His muscles rippled under your hands as you moved them over his abs, lower and lower, until you wrapped your fingers around his hard, long, angry cock. His groan went straight to your cunt, and somewhere in the back of your mind you realized this was so wrong, you weren’t like this, you shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, something really weird was going on. But this had stopped being about saving Peter’s life a long time ago.
You pumped your hand once, twice, three times, watching his head trash from side to side. You spat on your other hand and covered the head of his cock with it, caressing it with soft, circular movements that had him sobbing and cursing. It made you feel powerful, hot.
“If my hands feel this good, just imagine how it will feel when you finally get inside me…” You leaned over him to whisper dirtily in his ear, before sucking the lobe into your mouth
“Fuck!.. Yes, please, y/n… please!”
“You want it, don’t you? Want to feel me from the inside… penetrate me, break me in half with your cock…” Where was all this coming from? This was wrong, he wasn’t in his right mind, you weren’t supposed to like it.
“Yes! Please! Yes, I want it, all of it!”
You guided him to your entrance, lowering your self slowly, slowly. He was huge, and you were dripping, yes, but you needed to be careful anyway, you had never taken someone so big.
His hand went to your waist, crying out as his cock disappeared inside you, eyes fixed on the place you and him were joined. You grabbed a hold of one of his wrists, guiding his hand to one of your breasts as you started moving up and down, riding him.
“Oh God!..”
“Tell me,” you demanded, already breathing hard, he was filling you up so good, touching all the right places deep inside you, “Tell me how does it feel to be inside me”
“Hot… so wet… so tight… you feel like...” He stopped, looking up at you through half lidded eyes.
“Like what?” You urged him on, “Tell me, Peter”
“You feel like you’re mine”
Your walls contracted around him at his words, a wave of pleasure washing over you. His other hand returned to your waist and he started moving you faster up and down his cock.
“Yes, like that, show me how you like it” You were delirious, your own hand tugging at your hair, “make me yours, Peter!”
He started to buck his hips up, trying to get even deeper, his pelvis rubbing against your clit just right every time he bottomed out and your second orgasm of the night started to build.
“Gonna come inside this pretty pussy” He let out under his breath, and you didn’t know if he was talking to you or to himself, “Then, I’m going to turned you around on your hands and knees, enter your pussy from behind, not even gonna stop. Gonna make you come on my cock over and over and over…” he punctuated every word with a hard thrust, until your walls were squeezing him again, and you were screaming your release. A couple thrusts later, and you felt him coming as well, coating your insides with his hot seed.
True to his word, he flipped you over, burying his cock in your oversensitized cunt again, fucking you through the aftershocks, prolonging your pleasure until you were a moaning, trembling mess. And he wasn’t even slowing down.
“I wanted you… since the first moment I saw you” he confessed, leaning over your back to kiss your shoulder, the gesture surprisingly sweet for the way he was taking you, so raw and animalistic. “You were wearing that pink skirt… and I wanted… wanted to bend you over the lab table and have my way with you…”
Dizzily, you reached behind you to grab a handful of his hair, and turned your head to kiss him, open mouthed and sloppy. He loved it.
“This is close enough” He sighed when you broke the kiss, resting his forehead on your shoulder, hips slapping against your ass loudly.
You interrupted the steady stream of “Uh… uh…uh” leaving your throat to try and say,
“I don’t know… we could… still do it in the lab… later…”
“Fuck, you’re perfect!” He moaned against your back, before grabbing hold of your hips again, pounding into you faster than any normal boy could ever do.
…
You passed out somewhere between round five and six, not before giving him express permission to use your body as much as he needed to burn the fucking -ha- pollen out of his system.
He was running his fingers softly up and down your naked back, a barely there caress, watching you sleep, sated, relaxed and completely spent, when he heard the buzzing coming from your jeans, long forgotten on the floor near the bed. He took it out and saw Tony’s name lighting up the scream.
He slid to pick up.
“Fucking finally! Y/n, where the hell are you?!”
“Mister Stark, it’s me” He whispered his reply, as not to wake you up.
“Peter! Thank God! How are you, please tell me you didn’t-“
“Sorry, Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him, “We kinda did…”
“Shit! Please, Peter, please tell me you kids used protection!”
“Uh…”
Tony left out another loud curse at the other side of the line.
“Where are you? Y/n did something to Friday and now it won’t tell me where you are in the tower. You still in the tower right? I need the both of you to come to the lab right now” Tony was talking a mile a minute and Peter knew something very bad, not of the good was going on.
“Why?”
“Because,” Tony’s voice was frantic as he tried to explain the gravity of the situation, “That pollen thing? That’s not an aphrodisiac like we thought, it’s a fertility treatment. It doesn’t only messes your hormones up, it messes with hers too with every fluid exchange!”
Peter turned to look at you, peacefully asleep, curling up to his side, blissfully unaware of anything and everything going on outside that bed.
And maybe it was the alien substance still fucking up his brain, but the mental image of you, round with his child, sleeping like that next to him every night? It wasn’t half as terrifying as Tony seemed to think it was.
After all, the girl of his dreams was finally his, and a baby would guarantee she would remain his, forever.
“You know what, Mister Stark? I have to go now. Talk to you tomorrow…”
“What? No, kid, don’t hang up on me! Peter Parker I swear-…”
Tony Stark heard the line go dead.
To be continued...
Buy me a coffee
#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#peter parker x reader#peter parker#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker imagines#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland smut
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for the writing prompts could you do a nathaniel/anders with "you can’t die. i won’t let you." please!
Thank you so much! I hope you like this one, it was very fun to write
(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)
@dadrunkwriting
Pairing: Nanders
Characters: Nathaniel Howe, Anders, Sigrun, F!Hero of Ferelden
Tags: near death experiences in Kal’Hirol, gallows humour, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort
Rating: Mature
Dying in the Deep Roads is a fitting ending for a Howe, albeit one that had come sooner then any of them could have anticipated. Nathaniel stares up at the ceiling of Kal’Hirol and breathes as deeply and as evenly as he can. Above him, Anders’ face is pale and pinched with tension, his blonde hair streaked black with darkspawn blood. His hands are almost hidden beneath a veil of blue magic as thick as fog.
Nathaniel regains control of his arm after a moment, fingers cold and too heavy as he lifts them. Clumsily, he bumps his knuckles against Anders’ clean-shaven cheek. The mage startles, and the magic around his fingers sputters like a fire in the wind. Then he frowns, and the magic comes back full force, washing like springwater over Nathaniel’s lower torso. Far off, or close by, there’s the shriek of monsters and the sound of fighting. The sound is distorted by the echo of the cave walls, and Nathaniel’s own hearing, muffled as if he is underwater.
“It’s going to be alright.” He says, the words melting together in his mouth like treacle. Anders doesn’t look at him, the ring in his ear blue as lyrium in the reflected light of his magic. Nathaniel goes on. “I don’t mind dying here. It’s a fitting end for a Howe.”
Anders purses his lips, glancing up at him with brown eyes drawn tight and narrow at the corners. “Sure. But it’s a terrible ending for a Why, and I think your father was having it on with your Aunt Agnes.”
Nathaniel frowns, and his skin moves like fingers pushing through wet clay. “Who’s Aunt Agnes?”
Anders huffs a laugh and doesn’t smile, leaning forward as his palms move over the rough area of Nathaniel’s belly. His eyes are glowing, faintly. “Lovely woman. Has sixteen cats. I’ll introduce you to each of them personally. One of them is a duchess.”
Nathaniel tips his head back, skull bumping against the gravel. “You’re deflecting.”
“You’re dying from a stomach wound,” Anders bites back, lightly, before recommencing scowling at Nathaniel’s chest, “But who’s counting.”
Nathaniel bites the inside of his cheek. Not far off, the river of the thaig runs endless and impassive, ringing against its pebble shores like the shells on a real beach. The cavern far above their heads is a poor imitation of the sky. Nathaniel’s hand moves once, twice, and on a third attempt hits one of Anders’ arms. The magic hits him like an electric shock, but the sensation is dulled. Nathaniel ignores it and Anders stops casting, catching his breath as he looks down at him. Nathaniel tries to meet his eyes.
“Listen to me. It’s alright. It’s not your fault.”
Anders grimaces, and pulls his hand back roughly from Nathaniel’s grip. The spell lights up his arms as if they’re plunged into a basin up to his elbow. He looks up and away from Nathaniel, in the direction of the shrieking monsters. “Sigrun! Commander! Where are you?”
There is no response but the shrieking of things not yet dead. Nathaniel can taste blood and bile at the back of his mouth. He grabs at Anders’ elbow again, and Anders swears, “Dammit Nate!” He blinks rapidly, eyes shining in the light of his magic. Nathaniel holds onto his elbow as a drowning man would a lifeline.
“You need to go, Anders. You can’t die here. It’s a bad ending for a mage.”
Anders huffs, and the sound comes out cracked as he turns away from Nathaniel again. The shrieking of the monsters is getting closer. “Haven’t you heard? All endings are good for mages. It means a mage, ending.”
Nathaniel shakes his head, and pain cracks into the back of his skull as he does so. “No. You should die...somewhere high up. With a view.”
Anders scoffs, gingerly resting the heels of his palms over Nathaniel’s broken armour. Bile hurls itself thick and hot into the back of Nathaniel’s throat, and he nearly drowns on it before swallowing it down. Anders speaks in a whisper, glancing up again and again at the rest of the cavern that Nathaniel cannot see. “What, like a tower?”
Nathaniel scowls. “No, like a mountain. Free.”
Anders catches his breath, and looks up again at the far wall of the cave, voice getting louder as he shouts. “SIGRUN! COMMANDER! I NEED YOU!”
Numb, Nathaniel tries to manoevure his arms into letting him sit up. Anders flinches, moving to push him back down, fingers still wreathed in blue fire that doesn’t burn when he touches him. “No, stop, lie down.”
Nathaniel shakes his head. “You need to go. I can’t let you die here.”
Anders pulls a face. “Well I can’t let you die here either. Looks like we’re at an impasse. What a shame, oh well, now lie down, shut up and let me fix you.”
“I’m dying, Anders.” It is as certain as the fact that the dwarven sky is grey and endless. Anders stops moving, becoming as still as a frightened bird. Nathaniel moves, resting one hand heavily on his shoulder, and the soft suede-like fabric of his robe. “It’s alright.” Nathaniel says, heavily, and the words rasp in his throat. “Go.”
Anders purses his lips in a sudden, bitter smile as he shakes his head, even as tears run down his cheeks. “No. You can’t die. I won’t let you.”
Nathaniel opens his mouth to respond, but at that point a Hurlock comes howling over the boulder behind which they’d been hiding. Anders flinches, covering Nathaniel’s body with his own as he raises one hand to his temple. The creature flies backwards: right into the waiting axe of their Commander. It’s head topples onto the gravel-strewn earth as its body crumples onto its knees, oozing black blood. Anders’ arms are shaking and tight around Nathaniel’s back, careful not to put pressure on his lower chest.
Gingerly, slowly, Anders lets him go and sets him back down onto the earth, blue light reigniting around his fingertips. “Commander. Just in the nick of time.”
The Warden Commander raises an eyebrow. “It’s my speciality.” She lowers her gaze to Nathaniel, and grimaces when her eyes reach his stomach. “Is he -”
“He’ll be fine.” Anders’ tone is as sharp as Nathaniel’s old tutor’s cane. He doesn’t look at either of them, and Nathaniel feels more magic rush into his body like a wave. The Warden Commander looks at him for a long moment, her face lit by the blue light of his spell. Then she nods, once, and turns around.
“Sigrun! Hold the line.”
She braces her feet, and raises her axe, standing at the gap between the boulders. Anders looks up at Nathaniel and offers him half a smile, thinly. “See? No one’s dying today.”
Nathaniel nods, and leans his head back against the stone. Slowly, he begins to shut his eyes. The rush of magic tingling across his skin grows as distant as the sunlit shores of Seheron. Darkness beckons…
It is a fitting end, for a Howe.
*
When Nathaniel wakes up, it is to a snowy landscape of freshly laundered white linen that smells faintly of elfroot and lavender. Sunlight is washing in through the window, and the roof above him is close and brown and even, and nothing like the craggy grey sky of the Deep Roads. Feeling returns in increments: his toes are warm, and wrapped in woolen socks. His belly is a mass of bruising and stiff with bandages wrapped so tight he feels them when he breathes. One of his arms is pinned beneath his body and numb with it. The other is pulled across his chest like a tether, and his palm and fingers are warm. There’s the soft sound of snoring.
Nathaniel’s mouth pulls in the direction of a smile before his eyes land on the slumped, tall figure hunched in the stiff wooden chair beside his bed. Anders is sleeping soundly, mouth slightly ajar, a thin line of drool running from the corner of his lips. His hair is mussed and pressed loosely around his face. His fingers are holding Nathaniel’s hand, tightly, even in sleep.
Nathaniel lets out a long, deep breath and rolls onto his back, trying to work some feeling back into his arm. He does not let go of Anders’ hand.
Dying in the Deep Roads is a fitting end for a Howe. But it doesn’t need to happen yet.
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