#the bar was so fucking loud/drag was happening it was just NOT the vibes. and it takes so much to get me out the door in the first place

[opalsiren]

the rage i am experiencing rn i actually should be sequestered in a lab

[luciferlightbringer]

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 9

I'm sorry for being so evil... Just kidding, here is a little more pain before it gets better 😘

Chapter 8|Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.9k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, alcohol/intoxication, fuckboi flirting

You get to the hotel and check in, it wasn't crazy fancy or anything, but it was nice, quieter, didn't reek of sex and drugs. You got up to the hotel room and, maybe because you were somewhere that didn't remind you of all of the pain from the night before, you were able to flop on the bed and fall asleep. You slept without any dreams, not a healing sleep per-se, but you had caught up on the sleep you had lost from the night before.

You look at your phone, damn, you basically slept your first day of vacation away. Oh well, vacations don't need to be productive. You stare up and the ceiling, your mind wandering from what you should do, back to Lucifer. You wonder how his day was, he probably knew his next few appointments were canceled at this point, would he be mad or disappointed? Would he remember what happened last night?

You shake your head and growl at yourself, tugging at your own hair in frustration, 'Why do I fucking care so much?!' You got up and paced the room. You ran your hands up your face and through your hair as you walked over to the window, and pressed your forehead to the glass looking out at your view for the next few days. You saw a few restaurants, bars, and stores that littered the main drag, until the name of one grabbed your attention, and made you chuckle.

"Rock Bottom, huh? Feels appropriate for tonight," you say out loud to yourself as you change into more appropriate "out in public" clothes. You were feeling like a loser, but at least you didn't want to look like one. You grabbed your purse, strapped on some heels, and hopped across the street to the bar that felt it aligned with how you felt about life at the moment.

The bar was a dive, but it was not bad. There was a chill downstairs and a spiral staircase off to one side that twisted up to another floor with some flashing colored lights and some guys singing some sad and off-pitch karaoke. Yup, this was the vibe for the night. Luckily, this bar did not seem super crowded and you were able to find a seat with ample space over near the side of the bar to set yourself at.

The bartender saw you and nodded in your direction while they were finishing a couple of drinks. "Be right with you in just a moment, sweetheart," the woman said while juggling her bottles and shakers.

"No problem," you said with a tired smile. You watched the woman flip and spin the bottles as the customers in front of her watched with excitement. You loved watching bartenders who could do cool tricks, it was not a requirement for their job of course, but you were sure it got them more tips and it always made you hope that they enjoyed what they did. Or maybe they were just trying to give themself some amount of joy in their hellhole of a job working with drunk people and their bullshit.

Eventually she passed off the drinks to the customers, tossed her towel over her shoulder, and headed over to you.

"Thanks for waiting, welcome to Rock Bottom, what can I get ya?" the woman asked you. She gave off a "cool biker mom" kinda vibe, lots of tattoos and piercings all over her, a biker looking vest and short cropped slicked back black hair with one big pink streak jutting back from her right temple, all being held back by a red bandana.

"Just a long island iced tea, please," you said softly.

"Ah, one of those nights huh?" She said cocking an eyebrow, "No problem, coming right up."

You lean more on the bar, "What do you mean by that?" you say with a sly smile and a squint.

The bartender waved her hand, "I'm sorry, you're not one of my regulars, I shouldn't joke so bluntly right off the bat. Normally, the heavier the starting drink, the more sorrow the customer is trying to drown out."

"Hmm. Well, you're observations are quiet astute, as that is exactly why I ordered it," you say with a cocky smile.

"Well, the down on their luck do happen to be our target audience," the woman says flipping her shaker and bottles again, "May I ask what we are drowning today?"

You make a raspberry sound and then rub your face.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the woman said to you.

You laugh, "No it's fine, just hard to sum up in a quick statement. Just... work bullshit and... I don't know... utter fucking confusion of my life and what to do."

The woman nods sympathetically, "Sounds like hell." She looks at you, you both crack a smile and laugh. She hands you your drink.

"Sure is Hell... Just... almost felt like I had escaped it for a little... But anyways... I won't bother you more with my bullshit," you say looking down at your drink and taking it in your hands.

The woman shrugged, "Hell doesn't got therapists, bartenders are as close as they come. Name's Brooklyn if you need anything else, sweetheart." Brooklyn said, flipping the towel over her shoulder again as she went to greet another new guest who had settled on the other side of the bar. By the way Brooklyn greeted them, they looked like a regular.

You sipped on your drink and people watched for a while. As the night went on, you ordered some food and a few more drinks, watching people some and go. The room started to fill up with more patrons.

At one point, you saw a young Imp couple come in and snuggle into a booth together, kissing and snuggling, happily tipsy and enjoying each other's company. You sighed, you missed Lucifer and the way he would hold you. You wished it was real, you wished you could figure out if anything about your relationship with him was real. It also still drove you crazy trying to figure out why you would want it to be real. It was just a job... right?

Eventually, some drunk guy sauntered up to you. 'Oh boy, here we go.'

"Hey hot stuff, what are you doing moping over here by yourself, you're to sexy to be sad," he slurred at you, leaning on the bar.

You sighed, turned on your barstool and kicked one leg over the other, "Actually, I'm just sexy enough to be sad, thank you very much. Also... just out of curiosity, does this tactic ever work for you? The whole drunken loser with a backhanded compliment shtick?" You cock and eyebrow and smile.

"Wha- pffttt. Wow, why you gotta be such a bitch? I was just wanting to show you a fun time," he said leaning more into your face.

"Oh ya? And what would that look like? A minute of disappointing fingering and unimaginative attempts at dirty talk followed by five minutes of lack-luster penetration, doggy style with my unstimulated, unenthused, bone dry cooch while you scream "You like that you dirty little slut? You like how daddy fucks your tight little pussy, babygirl?" before you combust and roll over saying you are too tired to even attempt to make me feel any amount of pleasure, let alone getting me off? That kind of fun time?" you say giving him a smug smile.

The man in front of you just stares at you slack-jawed, so mad and confused he did not know what to say. You smirk, kick one of your heels up onto the middle of his chest, "That little bit of fun public degradation is the most fun we will be having tonight. Now get out of my face." You say as you push your foot against his chest, sending the man toppling backwards into a few onlookers that parted to let him drop to the floor and flail. You get a couple of whistles, claps, and hollers as you turn back to your drink.

Brooklyn stood at your end of the bar with a big smile on her face, "Well then! I was about to get ready to tell him to piss off, but you seem to have already handled it."

You shrug, "Men like him know they have no chance with shit like lines like that. They know they are going to get shut down and honestly, they love being put in their place. It's a kink for them, even if they would never want to admit it outright. I did him a favor really. If he is able to remember any of that interaction tomorrow, he'll have jerk off material for weeks." You say looking at him still splayed out on the floor.

Brooklyn howled with laughter, "Wow! That's incredible! Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, I won't do you next," you say, you and Brooklyn erupt into more laugher. "Sorry, yes, ask away."

"Are you a sex worker?" Brooklyn asked. You nod. "Nice! My ex-girlfriend used to be a sex worker and she used to be able to mentally bulldoze men like that, so I was just curious. It's always so fun to watch."

"Guilty as charged, but I'm off the clock for a few days," you say.

"Ah, very good. Doing anything fun?" Brooklyn asked.

You picked up your cup and shook it.

"Just drink away your sorrows? Sounds like a bummer of a vacation," she says wiping down the counter.

You shrugged and sighed, "I just... have some things I need to figure out. Just needed some space for a few days."

She leaned on the bar, "Space from what, if I may be so bold?"

You nod, "Ehhh, it's... not something I can talk about with others."

She shrugged, "Fair enough. I'm here every day if you change your mind."

"Thanks." You finish up a couple more drinks, happily drunk and numb, thanked Brooklyn and paid for your evening, and waddled your way back to the hotel before passing out for the night.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning you wake up with a hangover, which you expected, but it was worth it. You scroll through your phone for a while, but eventually you realize that you aren't actually looking at anything , just scrolling just to scroll. You sigh and stare at the ceiling of the hotel room, the thoughts of your issue with Lucifer drifting back.

You eventually feel the thoughts start to frustrate you and you start to cry. Why was this so hard?! The thoughts did not seem to want to organize themself into anything helpful, just stagnated in place in your mind, floating around like milk soaked Cheerios. Hells, you wish you could talk to someone, literally anyone about your issues, but you couldn't. You ended up getting up and pacing again until you ended up pressing your forehead against the cold window again. You looked out at all of the stores and people walking around, until your eyes landed on the Rock Bottom. You smiled, thinking about Brooklyn and the drunk guy from the night before.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head. Brooklyn, you COULD talk to Brooklyn! You just could not give her exact details like Lucifer, Charlie, the hotel, but you could talk to her about it in more general terms. Yes! This was the answer! Well... if Brooklyn was serious about being someone that you could talk to. It... wouldn't hurt to at least ask, right?

You quickly got dressed and popped back across the street to the Rock Bottom. You walked inside the bar, it was a lot more slow during the day, but there were still a few customers scattered around the downstairs area. You saw a young man at the bar, but no Brooklyn. You were disappointed not to see her.

"Hey there!" the young man called out to you, "Welcome in, how can I help you?"

"Hey... sorry, umm... I was kinda looking to see if Brooklyn was here. I can come back later," you start to turn to leave.

"Oh! No she is here, she's just in the back. I'll go get her for you!" the young man said before disappearing into the back. A few minutes later, Brooklyn emerged from the back storage room, and smiled when she saw you.

"Ah! Afternoon, sweetheart. How are you doing today?" Brooklyn smiled.

"Hey! I'm doing... alright... Hope I'm not interrupting anything," you say rubbing your arm.

Brooklyn waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, just doing inventory, earlier to do during the day when it's slower. What can I do for you?"

"Well..." you start, looking at the floor, then balled your hands into fits to get yourself to ask, "Did you mean what you said about being here... if I needed to talk?"

Brooklyn smiled, and looked at her watch, "I'm sure I can squeeze you in for an appointment, you good waiting for my lunchbreak?"

You waved you hands, "Oh! I don't want to take away from your lunch break! Plus, I don't want you to get in trouble or anything with your boss."

Brooklyn laughed, you looked at her confused, "Sweetheart, I am the boss, I can do what I want, and right now, I want to hear about what's got you sulking to my part of town and drowning your sorrows in my bar." You smiled and nodded, you don't know what it was about her, but you trusted her. She kinda reminded you of your grandmother, in the cool spunky kinda way, also maybe a little bit of how you used to be with your siblings. You waited about an hour and a half at the bar to finish up her inventory, and then you and her went up to a little balcony on the second level of the bar.

"Welcome to my office, now tell me miss... oh fuck... I just realized I've never asked your name," Brooklyn said embarrassed.

You laughed, "It's ok, it's (y/n)."

"Well alright, miss (y/n). What's going on?"

You start, without giving away exact details, tell Brooklyn the tale of the last several months, getting hired by a powerful person to secretly be their prostitute, the sex turning into nights of supports on both sides, helping them reconnect with their child and helping them achieve their goals, how they defended you against an abusive client, you left out the extermination fight but did mention that they were wanting to keep you safe during that event, and finally the night that brought you here. The whole time, Brooklyn listened intently, nodding and sometimes asking a clarifying question or two.

At the end of that all, Brooklyn sighed. "I can see why you'd be feeling overwhelmed right now. It would be confusing to love someone and got some drunk inducted, confusing confirmation of returned feeling while in a weird role/power dynamic with them."

You nodded, "Ya..." you blinked as you processed what she had said, "Wait... what?"

She looked at you and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

You stared at her, "I... I never said I loved him."

She nodded, "Yes you did."

You stared at her, "When???"

She smiled, "With every word you said about this person, how you treated them, how you felt about how they treated you... You do love them, right?"

You thought through everything, every look, every touch, every nickname, every night in his arms, every time he showed up in your room, the way he protected you, the way you thought of him when we were alone or with other clients, the way you felt being with him and Charlie at the hotel, the unbridled fear you felt at him telling him telling you he loved you. Why you cared if you lost him. It was all because you were afraid of losing the love you felt from him. The love you felt for him.

You loved him, you loved Lucifer.

Tears poured from your eyes as the realization sunk into you. You turned to look at Brooklyn, "Oh my god... I love him."

Brooklyn laughed, "Did you not realize until just now?"

You shook your head, the tears getting heavier, "No!" you choked out, your breath heaving, "I've never knew love could feel like this. I've never felt this before!" You start to crumple inward as the tears overtake you.

Brooklyn's smile faded, "Oh sweetheart," she pulled you into a hug as you sobbed. You tried to apologize and she just shushed you.

After you calmed down, you sigh, "Ok but... how do I know if he actually loves me?"

"He does," Brooklyn said.

"How do you know?" you sniffle.

She gives you a look, "Girl, how many guys that hire hookers introduce them to their daughters and then keep bringing them around their daughter and her friends?"

You blinked.

"And if that isn't enough, he beat up another client that hurt you. He doesn't just love you. He is down bad for you," Brooklyn smiled.

"And you're sure?" you ask.

Brooklyn nodded, "100%, on my afterlife, or may Satan take my bar."

You sniffled again and laughed, "Well, I wouldn't want Satan to take over your bar... I don't know him, but I get the feeling he wouldn't be as good of a bartender as you." You and Brooklyn laugh.

You look out from the balcony, thinking about how somewhere far away, on the other side of the circle, Lucifer, the King of Hell, was in love with you. Maybe thinking about you. Missing you. It made your heart ache, thinking of how you had run away from him, when you now realize he was probably just too scared to tell you how he felt.

"Do you think he'll be mad at me for running away from him?" you ask Brooklyn.

She shook her head, "If he is any man worth keeping, and if there really is that much of a power dynamic difference, he'll understand why you did what you did."

You nod. At this point, Brooklyn had to go back to work. You hung out at the bar the rest of the night, not getting nearly as drunk this time.

The next two days, you would go back to the bar during Brooklyn's breaks to talk through new thoughts and insecurities, and Brooklyn would softly but firmly refute each one. Damn, is this what therapy was like in the living world? Life would have turned out different maybe if this was something you had back then. Oh well, it's too late now.

On your last day, you packed up your room and went to say goodbye to Brooklyn, she gave you a hug and wished you goodbye. Telling you that you were always welcome to come back and talk, and that she expected an invite to the wedding if it worked out. You both laughed.

Soon, it was time to get int the car and head back home, back to the Lounge, back to Lucifer.

_____________________________________________________________

A little bit later, you arrived back at the Lounge. You got out of the car, headed up to your room to drop off your bag, then headed downstairs to see Larry and tell him you were back.

You found Larry and he smiled to see you, "Babydoll! I'm so glad you're back. How're ya feeling?"

You smiled, "Much better, thank you for being patient with me."

"Of course! Now, here is your rescheduled appointments for tomorrow," he said handing you a list. You looked through, and were disappointed to not see "Lance" in his usual time. You looked up at Larry.

"No Lance?"

Larry shook his head, "We called him and let him know you were going on vacation, and he said he would call back when he wanted to reschedule." Ok, no problem. You could get that, maybe he just didn't want to jump on when you were going to be getting home from your break. Ya, that sounds like something he would do. He loved you, right? You could be patient.

You were patient... as days turned to weeks, and Lucifer did not call to schedule with you. Every day you lost more hope, life slipped back into the way it was before you had ever known him. Cynthhhhia watched you from the shadows of the brothel, pleased to see your decent into misery as she started to get more well paying client's again. Sure, playing nice with the customers did pay off, but so did knocking Larry's favorite girl off of her groove. And the best part? No, one would ever know.

One day you looked out the window of your apartment and sighed, "Guess you were wrong after all, Brooklyn. Looks like Satan will be coming for the bar after all."

You wanted to laugh at the idea of Satan trying to run a bar, but all you could do was cry as your newly discovered heart was now broken.

Serves you right for thinking that love was actually possible in such a hopeless place.

______________________________________________________________

Charlie's phone rang, she looked over to see her dad's ID pop up on her phone. She scrambled to pick it up, she had called him several times over the last couple of week and he had not been answered. It had her worried, he had not done this since before his visit to the hotel that brought them back together.

"Dad! Hi! It's so good to see you call. Are you ok?" Charlie asked.

Lucifer cleared his throat on the other end of the phone, "O-Oh course! Why, why would anything be the matter?"

"Uhh... because you haven't answered any of my calls in weeks? Also you and (y/n) were basically here every day and now I haven't seen either of you..." Charlie waited for a moment, Lucifer struggled to figure out what to say. Hearing your name made his heart sear with pain.

"Oh uh... we've uh... it's just been busy." Lucifer said.

"Dad, did something happened?" Charlie pleaded.

"I... I'm sorry sweetie, I can't talk about this right now. I was just calling to see if you could go to a meeting for me? Please?" Lucifer pouted. That was not a good sign. Something must have happened, but now did not seem like a good time to press, not over the phone anyway.

Charlie sighed, "Ok Dad, on one condition."

Lucifer paused, "That condition being???"

"Just... just come visit sometime this week, come have dinner with me? Please?" Charlie pleaded again.

Lucifer sighed, he may not have you, but he did still have his daughter, he couldn't lose that again, "Ok, I will."

"Great! I'll see you later! Text me the details of the meeting. I love you, Dad."

Lucifer told Charlie he loved her too, then Charlie hung up, and turned to see Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Alastor, and Niffty all looking at her in anticipation.

"What kin'a scheme you cookin' up now, Princess?" Angel asked.

"Well, would anyone up for a little, community "Emotional Intervention" bonding?" Charlie was met with a room full of mischievous, sharp, approving smiles.

______________________________________________________________

You guys, the Cynthhhhia hate is giving me LIFE, I'm so happy how much y'all hate her. Keep up with the ideas, how should she be brought to justice? 😈 As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)@froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc

[lovejosephquinn]

Authors Note: Part 2. I didn't think this other version of Joe I'm fantasising about would get much attention but turns out we like the cocky boy. Thanks for reading, please reblog if you enjoy it or leave a comment if you wish to kept up to date with future parts! 🥰

Summary: You’d set your sights on him and he on you. It all started with a visit to a newly talked about bar which kept you coming more regularly, in the end not just for a drink but yet the inevitability of a creeping flame set alight by a stare which kept dragging you back. After all, lust shouts and love whispers and in the end, only the heart knows the difference.

Under 18's DNI. Warnings: Smutty and angsty af Word Count: 3.6k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @joeschains @daleyeahson @itsfreakingbats @etherealglimmer @xlilithb @live-love-be-unique @lma1986 @shawnamae87 @fluffysmutmnstr @ches-86 @aysheashea @definitionwanderlust @palomahasenteredthechat @figmentofquinn @harringtonfan4 @chrissy-mj-stan @lovelyblueness @tlclick73

Part 1 ✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨ Part 4

You were up all night, there was no doubt about it. Your mind pondering constantly on what tomorrow was going to bring, what tomorrow meant and what would happen between the two of you. There had been some quite flirtatious remarks back and fourth between you and the fact you were correct in assuming that he'd remembered you after a brief encounter, assuming that he meets plenty of women a day in his own bar? Now that made you feel special. That made you feel something that you didn't know if it would be worth screaming from the rooftops about or keeping quiet and retaining your dignity; after all, it was only early days.

You stayed in your attire, refusing to take it off because it was what he'd made you feel good in, that he'd given you the time of day even though he was busy with work, that he'd pulled you away from the perverted creeps that lurked in the shadows, laying on top of your bed you found yourself dreaming consciously about him, Joe. His name was that of a sweet melody that drained through your body, seeping through your veins and now he'd admitted that he was kind of into you, wanting to see you again, you were dying to see him again instantly. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough, tomorrow was already today and you were nail bitingly nervous from the inside out. The fact he'd given you no food for thought and had to keep you guessing added to his mysterious vibe.

You'd admittedly found your hand creeping through your underwear that was revealed to the lonely bedroom from your skirt being tucked up above your hips, imagining those deep, perplexing brown eyes staring back at you searching your soul, you closed your own eyes in attempt to see him properly, his lips were parted as he leaned over you, leaning down on one elbow directly next to your head, his hands mirrored your own movement, rubbing against your cunt, fingers finding the exact spot to hit, circling your aching bud whilst his retinas bore into you. Your squirms around the bed became frantic as your thighs pressed together, he comes to lean his lips to your ear, a short subtle and deep whisper erupting from his vocal chords: "Open your legs for me, pretty girl."

You were grasped quickly away from your stunning and erotic fantasy, moaning out loud, your eyes flying open to the realisation that you were alone, his voice sounded so apparent and altogether there in your thoughts that it almost felt real.

The words he'd spoken to you, the home truths and the cursed promises were reeling over and over in your head:

Just to put it out there, you're really fucking attractive darling. I know you came here to see me again. I know the feelings mutual. You give me your number and once I get off work tomorrow, you come here and I'll show you what you came for tonight.

There had to be more to what he was suggesting. There was one thing playing on your mind out of everything, you hadn't got his number back, he'd not text you, he'd not called and he'd not given any inclination of what time tomorrow you should be heading to the bar. Is this what happens? He was to keep you on your toes and not message, the audacity of that flummoxed you. Maybe he'd been too busy and forgotten about you, you were becoming to rapidly eager when you shouldn't even care about that? He was still too much of a stranger. You stared at your phone, the clock just barely turning 7am, you decided to get up, take a shower and get ready ahead of your long wait for the inexplicable and hopefully inevitable message to come through.

You'd been sat inexplicably twiddling at your thumbs for the last couple of hours, picking up your phone and then launching it across your sofa in disappointment to no notification and when you did you'd scramble to grab at it like an excited teenager, to avoid further distress, you went over to your bedroom and put it onto your bedside table, that way you'd not think about it as much. Except you did. Every deep sigh you took made you contemplate whether this was a joke, whether he really did just speak to all the girls this way, a little way to flirt for a while to pass time then get you out and rather just leave you hanging.

The soft features about him didn't explain this bewildering theory of yours, there was more to Joe than that meets the eye and you were certain of that. This is why you didn't trust your instincts one bit, the last time you almost did that you were completely wrong. The man remembered you, you of all people and that was enough to put up, shut up and wait it out.

A nap on your sofa sorted you right out, though only meaning to shut your eyes for half an hour was the initial indication, four long hours had passed and you scrambled from your own filth, skidding through the laminate flooring of your flat to your bedroom to look what time it was. Midday. Your eyes grew when they looked an inch down to find a notification from an unknown number, you entered your passcode in your phone wrong at least three times before managing to get to read the prolonged message.

Joe: Hi pretty girl. Sorry for not texting, hectic life and all that. See you very soon? It's Joe by the way.

As if he had to clarify who he was? Not like you'd been waiting for this stupid message for the last thirteen or so hours. Idiot. Though there it was, your newly given nickname now staring back at you in the face, did you play it off cool or did you sound eager and desperate?

You: No worries. Was beginning to think I'd given you the wrong number, oops. Do I get to know your cunning plans yet?

You had to sit down. Your head was rushing madly and your heart was almost being vomited out of your mouth in anticipation.

Joe: It wouldn't of mattered because you'd of turned up anyway, tell me I'm right sweetheart ;)

You: Confident much?

Joe: I see the way you look at me...

You: Could say the same about you...

Joe: Touché love. Be at the bar for 4pm?

You: I'll be there sweetheart.

Joe: I can already tell you're rolling those eyes, it's driving me mad.

You: I'll make sure to do it around 4:01pm right in your direction.

Joe: Watch what happens when you do.

You threw your phone to the other side of the bed this time, screaming but no sound came out, just a mild screech, falling back and kicking your legs up in the air like you'd just heard the best news in the world. You didn't care about all the stupid thoughts that'd crossed your mind earlier, they'd all disappeared, the will to be trifled with made it all worth it.

You counted down the hours, not like you'd already felt like you'd spent half of your life waiting for this man, you'd slowly got ready ahead of schedule, no idea what you were to be doing so you opted in for a casual kind of outfit, just jeans and an off the shoulder jumper. You were overthinking the time you'd spend together, should you be bringing anything, should you come prepared for a more formal occasion, is this a date? Did he officially ask you out? No he didn't, but he wanted to see you again so I guess that suffices in what some people may class as one.

You'd got to the bar by 3:50pm, too eager to say the least. Waiting outside on the public bench until 3:59pm exactly, you wandered through the familiar doors. A little emptier than you'd seen it last night, you wandered over to the stool you'd sat on both times you'd came in.

"Hey." A man looked over who was wiping down the tables, you swerved straight to look, almost jumping out of your skin since you didn't notice him when you came in originally. "We're closed, we'll re-open at 7pm."

"I know I-"

"She's here for me." Joe walked through the Staff only door, looking as beautiful as ever. His white shirt complimenting his figure, a couple of buttons to which you could see a little chest hair sprouting out and the adorned silver chains made him all the more sexier.

"I'll see you later mate, get yourself off." Joe shook hands with the man, eyes firing straight back to you. He waited until his employee had grabbed his jacket and closed the door shut, Joe headed over locking it behind him and taking a deep sigh, one you couldn't work out whether it be stress or nerves.

"Hi." You gulped down a ball of saliva, hiding your own anxiety. He didn't even respond, just kept gawking at you silently, the warm chocolatey stare was truly astonishing.

"Cat got your tongue?" You can't believe you even used that dumb expression.

"Look how pretty you are for me." You squeezed your legs tight when Joe bit down on his lip, a welcoming sight indeed. The footsteps got louder the closer he came over, walking in such a slow pace you just wanted to grab a hold of him and yank him so he'd hurry up, purely for the better view. That same smirk you'd missed appeared on his features instantly, his eyes falling from your face down to your feet and back up again.

"So what're we doing?"

"You tell me. You came to see me last night didn't you? Had that look in your eye. I could tell you wanted something, desired something." Joe leaned against the bar next to you, his arms folded against it, turning his head to blink at you, you rolled your eyes back at him in an attempt to wind him up, as promised.

You stumbled on your words, he'd truly made you speechless.

"I-I-"

"You- You- Why would you come back here randomly? All by yourself, obviously in search of what you need, or should I say, who you need."

He was the cockiest motherfucker you'd ever met but a god damn dreamy one at that and you loathed every second of it.

"Don't flatter yourself." Joe's eyebrows and hands raised up in a quick defeat like a rabbit in headlights yet his mind clearly worked quickly on a response back to you, he seemed to be good with words and that was seriously demeaning yet so hot.

You rolled your eyes again.

"Remember my last text?" Joe's lips were set in a straight line.

You shook your head. You remembered well, but you obviously wished to be reminded of it. Joe turned his full body to you, reaching out for your hands and pulling you off the stool, bringing you to straddle between his spread thighs on the stool he now sat on next to you. Your cheeks flushed in a matter of seconds, was this really happening right now? Joe sat up straight, leaning forward to your ear.

"Watch what happens when you do." He leaned back to look at the state of your exhilarated features, smirking lightly once more. You rolled your eyes again, hoping his next move would prove to you that he was willing to show you exactly what was to happen.

Joe stood from his stool, making himself look taller than he was, making you feel tiny. Instantly, he grabbed at your hips, lifting you onto the counter of the bar.

"I warned you." Your lips crashed together in the most disgustingly passionate kiss you'd ever encountered, you were panting instantly from the lack of oxygen that was given from the space that had now closed between you, the butterflies in your stomach raging from not so much nerves but the fever and delirium of making out with what was almost a complete stranger. Your arms wrapped around his neck pretty much the same time as his tongue plunged itself into your mouth, humming as his senses got a taste of you.

He pulled away from you and yet a new found confidence in you managed to force him back to touch your lips with his once more, you felt that same smirk you loved to hate rise against your mouth, his hands wandering down your hair, to your neck and down your back, both soothing and exploring you wholly. You pulled back this time in search of the air your lungs were craving.

"Is that all you got sweetheart?" You pried a little deeper, making his blood boil when you rolled your eyes again.

"Do I have your permission?" Joe held back onto your waist tightly.

"Permission for what?" You kind of knew what he was insinuating when you looked down to see the shadow of a large bulge trapped inside his trousers.

"To fuck you senseless." You removed Joe's hands from you and he stood back when you leaped off of the bar. Pushing him by his chest to fall back a few more steps, he watched as you undressed yourself down to your underwear.

You bit down on your lip, mirroring his image of earlier, when his jaw almost fell to the floor at the sight of you.

"You're such a naughty girl, shit. My kind of girl." Joe walked forward but you reached out to place your hand back on his chest immediately, stopping him as still as a statue in his wake, he obeyed to you like you were some sort of goddess, becoming patient all of a sudden.

"I believe you're still dressed." You tilted your head to the side in a moderately cheeky state.

Joe removed his clothes faster than you could blink twice, his cock springing free from his boxers making your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. He wasn't too big nor too small, perfect in size but wide in girth, the perfect ratio.

"Bend over right now." You rolled your eyes at him once more and turned, slowly removing your cotton panties, feeling them fall to the floor once past your thighs, you kicked them out of the way and bent over as instructed.

Joe came up behind you, falling straight to his knees, patting at your thighs to open them slightly, you moved them open and without a second thought, Joe pushed his face right up to your cunt, tonguing straight inside your hole, humming along with your instant cries of pleasure. He fisted at his length slowly, throbbing to the way you tasted and the sounds of your rhythmic moans. The more noise you made, the faster his tongue would dart in and out of you. His hands were clutched to your ass, squeezing at the peachy cheeks. Joe slurped and tongue fucked you well, you couldn't imagine what the real deal would be like if his smaller muscle worked like this.

"Joe, fuck I-"

"Oh no. Not just yet, only good girls get to cum." Joe muttered, the vibrations of his voice sent straight through your core.

"Please." You bit onto your arm as tears seeped out of you, your release evident when he replaced his tongue for his fingers, fatter than you'd anticipated, he moved them through you erratically, leaving little nibbles against your ass cheek that his hand once occupied. You heard a wicked laugh behind you, making you clench around his digits in utter desperation.

"I get to fuck you first and then we'll see about letting that pretty pussy have it's orgasm." You gritted your teeth, his fingers pulling out of you and being replaced by his cock, stretching you out and filling you inch by inch, his hands slowly became one with your skin, his finger tips making marks around your waist as he didn't even give time to adjust, he began to pound ferociously, sending you into a fucked out mess.

"Fuckkkk, you're so tight. Are you going to be a good girl for me?" You nodded, but the ruckus that was being created from him railing you against the counter was mistook for ignorance on his part.

Joe's hand came down with a blow against your ass, not once but twice, harder the second time.

"Answer me. Are you going to be." His thrusts were powerful, his balls slapping up against you. "MY good fucking girl."

"Yes! Yes!" You squealed.

"Yes what?" Joe panted.

"I'll be your good girl. I swear."

You could feel the smirk from behind you as he continued to pound into you hard like you were a useless toy, a rag doll.

"Look at you, you're such a mess. Cum for me, pretty girl." Your body gave way, your cunt throbbed and tightened, you felt as though you were paralysed from the waist down, your teeth latched to your arm almost drawing blood from it's intensity.

The way you reacted to your release had Joe fucking into you, moaning at the top of his lungs. He pulled out without letting you know, you felt empty all of a sudden.

"On your knees." You turned and fell straight down, obedient and understanding for what he wanted more than anything.

"Open your mouth."

You opened up, staring up at him, Joe's eyes focussed on you as he jerked at his cock, seed flowing straight into your mouth after one last tug. He moaned your name clearer and no less beautiful than you'd ever heard him say it. You swallowed without thought watching him grin his teeth back at you, a little devilish chuckle following shortly after. He offered you his hand, standing you back up. Joe headed straight for the bathroom, leaving you alone. You grabbed a hold of your clothes which were thrown in various puddles around you, redressing yourself and hopping back onto your now obviously claimed stool.

As he came out, he gave you the most innocent and sweetest smile you'd ever seen; there was the soft boy you'd been wondering about again. The façade he puts on was so clearly an act, he was obviously a sweet person inside, but you'd quickly realised it was something you'd have to earn, especially after what had just occured.

"I couldn't stop myself, after knowing you clearly wanted me, do you know how much that made me want you?" Joe spoke out, interrupting your thoughts.

"Do you still want me?" You asked out right, like was this a one time thing? A one night stand if that's what you could call it, because it's not everyday you come and fuck a random stranger, it wasn't in you to do that ever, it was quite clear he'd got some form of hold on you to bring that side out of you which you were usually so shy about in such a hurry.

"Come by tomorrow and I'll definitely show you how much I want you again."

You furrowed your brows a little bit, slightly confused. Did he not want to get to know you?

"Is that all you want me for?" You were scared of the response but you had to know. Joe moved closer to you, pushing his knuckle up against your chin, bringing your eyes to meet his.

"Absolutely not. But it's a bonus." He made you feel like nobody else ever had. You were longing for someone you didn't even know at all, it was a dangerous game that you were entering but you were adamant to play along and see what happened next.

"You'd better be going, my staff will be back soon. I'll text you." Joe leaned down to plant a peck on your lips, holding back from stopping, he prolonged the kiss from ending, his fingers holding your chin, kissing you again and again. You left shortly after, more clueless than you'd felt before entering the bar in the first place. As you shut the door, you crossed over the road to head back to your house, turning back with a random instinct after hearing footsteps that weren't far behind you, you turned to see another girl heading into the bar, shadily looking side to side to make sure nobody was looking, someone that you were pretty sure was not his employee.

Your heart beat ten to the dozen, yet you had no right to be angry. So what, you were probably just another girl he wanted to fuck? Yet why were you fighting the urge to cry.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, a notification from Joe.

Joe: Same time tomorrow? You were such a good girl for me.

Locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket, you almost turned back to bash on the doors to find out the truth. Feeling overcome with more anxiety than independence you removed yourself from the sight of that cursed bar, away from the man you thought for a second might have actually wanted you for more than just sex.

You decided the better option was to try and call him, you pressed the call button and placed the phone to your ear, the tone rang once and then was sent straight to voicemail. You were just a fuck.

Shaking with upset and now full blown anger, you stared at the block button, stopping yourself for a second, holding yourself against a brick wall as it was too much effort to stand, your body felt heavy and dirty, your head was a trainwreck. Your thumb did the work for you, blocking Joe's number after much deliberation.

Fuck him.

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning

(pinterest inspired board)

part: 1/6

(other parts)  (masterlist)

The day it happened, it wasn't a significant meeting at all, you barely even talked. In fact, when he opened the door of your neighbor’s flat that day with a beer in his right hand and his hair messy, he didn't have any effect on you. You always knew that living next to a director meant that sooner or later you’d bump into the pretty faces of well-known people. Sure, you didn’t expect them to be Hollywood actors like him, but to say you were starstruck by the man, would be the overstatement of the year.

The building you’ve lived in for the last three years has five floors; you live in the 4th, he lives in the 5th. He’s a quiet person, usually spending his evenings out of his apartment. You’ve talked sometimes, about the weather and the weird lady that lives in the 1st floor. You’ve never told him you find his directing style a little pretentious.

You’ve never been to his place until that annoyingly warm August evening, when you find a white button up shirt on your balcony. You can clearly see more clothing when you look up and you’re certain the item you’re holding belongs to him.

He’s not there though. Instead you find a different face behind the door. Lighter eyes and darker hair. The man in front of you is definitely younger than the director. You don’t bother to notice what he’s wearing.

“Can I help you?” His voice is deeper than you expected. Stronger, with a touch of European accent. The sound of English surprises you at first but soon you realize he must be another foreign coworker that came to visit your neighbor

“No, I just think Argyris dropped this and it ended up on my floor.”

He looks at you and then at the shirt, in your hands.

Then he says “Sure, I’ll take it.”

“Okay.”

Then it ends. He doesn’t even ask your name. You don’t have to ask his. You figure out, as soon as you walk down the stairs, that it’s Sebastian Stan that you just talked to.

And while being a big fan of marvel movies, you think nothing special of him at first. You just wonder how a mostly unknown director from Greece got an actor like Sebastian to come here so they can work together. It makes no sense to you, but you forget it when your phone starts ringing.

/

It would’ve been easier if you never saw him again, yet you do. You see him trying to understand what the old lady from the first floor is trying to tell him. You already know. The elevator is not working. The next day you see him walking up the stairs.

You exchange a quick hello, how are you and then off you both go.

The same night Argyris invites you to have a drink with them in the terrace. Part of you wants to just stay in bed and binge watch some Sherlock episodes. Part of you already thinks of what to wear.

There are around ten people there when you show up. They’re all sitting down in huge pillows drinking and talking loudly. You don’t know most of them.

You sit next to a blonde girl, across from Sebastian. This time you notice he’s wearing a plain black shirt and holds a glass of whiskey.

You don’t share any direct conversations but you learn that he’s afraid of growing old and that he thinks Taxi Driver is one fucking masterpiece, as he says.

When you mention that you’re probably the least artistic person in the room right now, you hear him laugh.

A curly haired woman starts dancing with him at some point. You decide he’s not a good dancer.

He leaves the same time you do, following you down the stairs.

“I thought you live here.” You say when he doesn’t stop at the floor you expect him to.

“Ah no, I stay at a hotel near the centre.”

He keeps talking about his suite until you reach your door.

You part in a blur, with a short goodbye.

He still doesn’t ask for your name.

It makes you feel genuinely offended.

/

Two days after, he is the farthest thing from your mind, until you find him sitting in front of your door, his eyes roaming the place with despair. And then he sees you.

“Ah finally you are here.” He starts casually. “Thank god.”

You just nod.

“Argyris told me to wait for him with you. We had a meeting but he got stuck in traffic.”

You give him a look.

“He said you’re always at home so you won’t mind.”

Ouch. Yeah sure, your social life wasn’t something to brag about but for some reason the way Sebastian said it, it sounded like an insult.

“Okay, come in.” You shrug, clearly not feeling comfortable and turn around to unlock the door.

You hear him call your name. You thought he didn’t know.

“Yes?”

He offers you an easy smile.  “Thank you.”

/

Sitting in your couch he’s eyeing the entire room, while you put some groceries in the fridge.

“Argyris says you’re a great girl.” He clears his throat. “But he thinks you’re too quiet for your own good.”

You look at him, your eyes flicking up and down his face.

“And from what I can tell, he’s right.”  You hear him laugh.

It felt weird to see him laugh while he was leaning back at your cozy pillow. He had entered your life so suddenly you didn’t even have time to react to it.

“I’m sorry but I barely know you.” Your words are sharp. He sits up.

“Okay then let’s get to know each other, what’s your favorite Disney princess?”

Defeated, you laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, this is an important question.”

You wait for him to crack up but then you remember he’s an actor.

“I don’t know.” You think for a second. “Mulan?”

“Oh my god. Mulan is amazing.” You smile at him. “My favorite is Jasmine, she’s just so badass.”

You share your favorites that day, having almost nothing in common rather than your everlast love for animated movies and buttered popcorn.

When it’s time for him to leave, he stops and looks at you in the eye.

“You should talk more often.”

You stare at him with confusion. “I talk,” you raise your eyebrows. “When I have something to say.”

“Good.” he says, still looking.

/

Later in the evening, you’re eating some yoghurt when he comes knocking on your door.

He’s different. The white tank top he was wearing this morning is replaced with a dark shirt and his face looks tired. You assume they’ve been working since he went upstairs.

“Hiii”, he says dragging the i, “Am I interrupting anything?”

You desperately want to nod. You want to tell him that you were doing the most exciting thing in the world, before he came but you were never a good liar.

So you just tilt your head and take a step back.

That’s when he enters and is met with some loud rock music blaring from your laptop.

“You like AC/DC?” he asks, almost wide-eyed.

“Well, I can tell it’s them when I hear their stuff.”  For the first time that day, he seems to be in loss of words. “Why are you so surprised?”

He sits in the same spot in the couch as earlier and laughs.

“I just didn’t take you for the kind of girl who likes this music.” It’s your turn to laugh.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Quiet girl who loves animated films and eats kids’ yoghurt” he looks at the carton in your kitchen table, “and also likes metal music? Doesn’t add up.”

“We’ve basically just met; you shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”

“Fair enough.” He sits back, fidgeting with his fingers.

You take some time just looking at him

There was a certain vibe about that man that made you wonder how it’d feel to cruise down a dessert highway in a convertible mustang with him. In the summer. With him wearing that white tank top.

The color of strawberries emerges at your cheeks just at the thought of it.

You wish he doesn’t notice.

You’re glad to find him looking the other way, before he speaks up.

“We’re going out tonight.” His voice is warm now. “Argyris says you should come along, even though I’m quite sure there’s no hardcore music where we’re going.” He laughs again.

I can’t. You almost say. But then anxiety slips away from you and out of sudden you want him to stop being so freaking arrogant, going around and acting like he knows exactly what kind of person you are.

He thinks you’ll say no. You can see it in his eyes.

“Sure, when should I be ready?” you say, surprising both of you.

He looks at you for some time and then trying to hide whatever he was thinking he says the first thing on his mind.

“How old are you?” He sounds pitiful. He knows. He wishes he could hit a wall; with his head.

“Twenty-one.” His eyes scan yours, unsure of what they’re looking for. “Why?”

“No reason.”

He inhales deep.

/

You try to blink. You’re at a party in a little bar you’ve never been before and a lot of people are wearing black. Alcohol. You can still taste it on the back of your tongue. You don’t remember how you end up pressed against a dark skinned man, but you can tell he smells of cigarettes and despair.

You sway your body to the beat, close your eyes. Breath in. And out. You think the music deafens you for a second but you open your lids and see Sebastian and he’s watching you, unashamed.

He’s not that far, though it feels like it with countless bodies in the way. The music melts. His gaze is almost angelic. Or devious. You can’t really tell.

He’s dancing with that curly haired woman again. You wonder how intimate their relationship is.

The red neon lights make his skin glisten. His muscles move divinely. It makes you think there’s an entire world inside him, his flesh barely keeping it hidden. Out of sudden you get the urge to walk towards him. You want to see him up close under this dim lighting. But you don’t move.

The man that’s groping your waist asks for your name. You tell him you need to flee. He doesn’t understand.

You sit outside with the sweet summer breeze touching your bare arms. The bass of the music in the background syncs with the beating of your heart. You can feel your ribs grow with every breath you take. Until you stop breathing because the door opens and his eyes suffocate you.

You can’t fathom the effect he has on you. He was a pretty face on screen some days ago. But right now he steals distance and stays near you.

You don’t look his way. He doesn’t say a word. Nicotine and smoke surround you as he exhales. His fingers hold the cigarette butt with care.

“Do you want some?”

You turn to look at him.

“I don’t smoke.” He laughs.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want some.”

You want to know if his breath has the taste of sulfur. You want to pretend it’s the alcohol or the loud music that makes your head hurt.

“What’s the best part of being an actor?” The blue in his eyes glows.

There’s silence but he seems to be thinking about it.

“Do you ever feel things too much?” He says, his voice hoarse. “I mean, when you feel something so intensely it becomes a part of who you are.”

You nod. You understand.

“Acting allows you to let go of these feelings,” he starts. “You share the burden with the audience until it becomes light and you can hold it again.”

You look at him, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I could that,” you close your eyes. “I don’t think I could share what I feel so easily.”

He stands up. The wind hits you again.

“A lot people can’t. That’s why everyone is heartbroken,” he takes a breath, “Feelings eat us raw.”

You both go to bed alone that night. Tomorrow there is a hole next to you.

/

the morning after, search history

(02:45 PM) hangover recovery

(03:00 PM) best food after a hangover

(03:10 PM) sebastian stan

(03:30 PM) sebastian stan girlfriend

(06:00 PM) xanax side effects

/

You follow him on Instagram. He doesn’t follow you back. You remember he probably gets tons of followers every day and decide not to let it bother you. Instead you study for the exams of the following month.

The subject of your studies doesn’t interest you. Another poor decision you made under pressure. Sometimes you feel as if your life is borrowed from someone else. Sometimes you feel as if you haven’t found your home yet.

Feelings eat us raw.

His girlfriend looks beautiful in the pictures you find online. The media isn’t certain if they’re still together but you like to think so. It makes it easier to avoid him.

But the universe seems to be oblivious to your thoughts and you see him that same day. You’re taking the garbage out and he’s coming down from the top floor. You meet in the elevator.

“I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” his eyes are smiling as he talks “you looked kinda drunk last night.”

You fidget with the hem of the bag you’re holding.

“I wasn’t drunk.” You notice he’s growing some stubble. You’re not sure you like it.

“Whatever you say, doll.”  You bite your cheek trying to devour any sign that might give away how his words make you flinch.

He turns his body a little so now you’re facing each other. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty in a way that doesn’t hurt. You try not to stare at him, but you fail sometimes. You’ve never noticed how slow the elevator moves until you want to get out. You can’t stand being so close to him for much longer.

He’s an arrogant rich actor who loves Disney and smokes a lot, you think. I have no reason to be affected by him.

“Ah! Argyris said we’re leaving for the weekend.” You eye him curiously. “He wants to show us some small villages in the south. He thinks we should get to know the country a little more before we start.”

You’re stunned by your neighbor’s dedication to his work. Sometimes you wish you had something you could be passionate about too. Sometimes you think you’re never going to find it.

“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll like it.” You give him a smile.

He leans his back at the wall. The elevator stops. Finally.

“I like your eyes.” You grab tight onto the bag. “But they don’t smile when you do.”

He opens the door and he’s gone.

They tell you that it’s fun to meet a famous person. They tell you, you can ask for a photo and a hug. They tell you celebrities don’t talk a lot but that doesn’t mean they’re rude.

But he’s not like that.

He’s fire. He’s burning heat and scorching flames. His words are his thoughts; raw. You don’t like it.

/

late night search history

(00:38 AM) blue valentine movie soundtrack

(01:15 AM) is sebastian stan a bad person

(01:30 AM) acting classes for amateurs

(01:50 AM) cheap leather boots

(02:10 AM) sebastian stan eyes

 You find it annoying; how he’s present even when you’re alone.

Thankfully he’s leaving for the weekend, you think.

/

The weekend, however, is two days away.

You think you can get away without seeing him. And you do. Until it’s late at night again. And they’re all upstairs with music so loud you’re certain the lady on the first floor is going to be rude about it in the morning.

The music tempo has you unaffected. All you think about is if he’s dancing with that woman again.

He’s such a bad dancer, he should not be dancing.

There’s a subtle knock on your door. You know it’s him. You hope you’re wrong.

“Do you feel like dancing?” His face is all flustered. It’s a good look on him.

“You can’t come knocking on my door at 2 AM and ask me to dance.” His gaze is filled with confusion.

“So you don’t feel like dancing?” You roll your eyes. He notices.

“That’s not the point Sebastian.” It’s the first time you call him by his name. You let it slip away slowly, testing the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.

He takes a step closer. You are suddenly aware of your pyjama shorts and your exposed skin.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to irritate you.” His eyes are the cliché blue of the sky. “I just thought you might want to dance, that’s all.”

Suddenly you feel guilty and embarrassed. He’s oblivious to it.

For a moment you feel his eyes linger on you. It feels surreal.

You nod at him.

He’s ready to say something when Argyris comes down the stairs, his shirt slightly unbuttoned.

“Ah man, I thought you got lost or something.” You lower your eyes. “Stop messing with the poor girl. People are looking for you.”

He throws a smile at you and Sebastian takes a quick breath.

“People are always looking for me.”

He gives away that he’s carrying a burden. Your expression softens. But then you look at Argyris and you see he doesn’t really pay attention to these words.

You share a quick look before you’re there standing alone at your doorstep, trying to grasp the idea of him.

/

When you wake up you feel like running. You can’t fathom where the feeling comes from but it starts like a liquid running down your veins and soon you can’t stay in bed even for a second.

Feelings eat us raw. Only if you let them.

.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged in this six part story :)

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hi! I'm a new follower and I just binged all of your stories today! And sooooo in love!

I just want to request a story, where chishiya is madly possesive of his S/O, where he gets jealous of anyone who would touch her.

S/O is a female.

Thank youuu so much!

Of course! Thanks so much for following and reading my fics! ❤❤

Possessive | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Summary: You begin to notice Chishiya’s possessive behaviour around you when you start becoming more serious about your relationship

Type: short scenario

Word Count: 1.7k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: this is more like just a few scenarios of Chishiya being possessive. It isn’t that well written since I had to rush it a bit. I felt like I had to post something today cause I haven’t in a while, so I was a bit busy 😣

You never viewed Chishiya as the possessive type, especially when it came to relationships. The sly, manipulative character seemed to convey the vibe that he wouldn’t care less about who his significant other talked to or hung out with. But of course, during the first few weeks of dating him, you began to notice that your assumption was completely inaccurate.

It started with small gestures, like pulling you closer to him subtly when you were hanging around the pool area, or keeping a strong grip on your hand when walking down the hallways of the hotel together. You always thought it was him just being a good boyfriend, but over time you began to think otherwise.

Chishiya became more clingy towards you, both in public and private. Sometimes he would not allow you to leave his side at all, which always ended in a complaint from you. Even when you rolled your eyes and tried to walk away from him anyway, he would just grab you by your waist and pull you back to him, giving you a quick glare to warn you.

In private, like when you were in your shared room together, he always hid your shirts from you so you would be forced to wear one of his white t-shirts. He would become all happy and giddy when you saw you in his clothes, wrapping his arms around you like a little koala and not letting go for hours. There would be some nights when you would have to pry his arms off from your torso, as he simply refused to let you go.

************

One night, you both were sitting in a booth together outside around the pool area. Most of The Beach’s residents had made their way to bed, so it was just you and Chishiya having a few drinks together with the occasional small group of people walking nearby.

Chishiya had his lips against yours, moving slowly and intimately as he held the side of your face with one hand and rubbed the bare skin of your waist with the other. You were having a heated make out session, just enjoying being in each other’s presence without being disturbed by anyone.

“Chishiya,” you breathed out as you broke the kiss, making Chishiya pout unhappily. “Let’s head inside, it’s getting cold out here.”

Chishiya smiled and shook his head at your suggestion. “Can we just spend a few more minutes here? There’s too many people inside and just want some alone time with you,” he asked, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and lightly nipping at the sensitive skin. You winced as he kissed and bit along your neck and collarbones.

“I want to see Arisu. He said he wasn’t feeling too well today and I want to check up on him,” you said, pulling Chishiya away from your neck by his shoulders. Chishiya held a frown on his face.

“Why do you want to see Arisu? I’m right here, you don’t need him,” he groaned in an annoyed tone while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You pulled a sarcastic face and rolled your eyes.

“Yes I know, but I’m just worried about him, that’s all,” you insisted, pushing your hand underneath Chishiya’s chin and pressing your thumb against his lips lightly.

Chishiya gazed lovingly into your eyes as you traced your thumb across his cheek, closing his eyes in content as the feeling of your hand on his skin. “You’re so pretty,” you praised, giving him a short peck on his nose, making him chuckle slightly.

*************

A more prominent incident that conveyed his possessive personality was when you were in an executive meeting together.

You were a higher ranking member of the militants, so you were able to be present at meetings with Hatter.

Both you and Chishiya stood at the end of the large room together, leaning against the wooden wall and listening to the debate that everyone was holding. Hatter was trying to decide which executives to send to the next game, as he was expecting the game to represent a card that they had not yet able to achieve, and he wished to make sure that they were guaranteed to bring it back.

“Niragi and Aguni could go,” Mira suggested, gesturing towards the two taller men that sat at the table next to one another. “They have a 100% winning streak, so I think they’d be the best choice for a diamonds game such as this one.”

Your eyes broke from the rest of the room when you felt Chishiya’s hand run along yours, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. You looked at his face, not even earning a side glance from him. It was unusual for him to act romantic towards you in front of the executives, especially during a meeting.

“Why doesn’t Y/N join then?” you suddenly heard your name. You looked back over to the table and saw Niragi eyeing you, making you tense immediately. “She can come with us, since she too has cleared a lot of diamond games.”

As everyone turned towards you and Chishiya, you felt Chishiya’s grip on your hand tighten.

Before you could even speak, Chishiya spoke for you.

“No,” he bluntly stated.

“No?” Niragi questioned, standing up from his seat and making his way over towards you and Chishiya’s position. “Why do you say no Chishiya?” Niragi asked, pressing the barrel of his rifle towards him.

“I’m not letting her go with you, not if I’m not there.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just continued to glance between the two bickering men.

“She’s her own person, she can speak for herself,” Niragi growled into Chishiya’s face, turning towards you. Your heart stopped as he stepped towards your smaller frame. “So, what do you think sweetheart? We could really use your help.”

The way he ran his tongue along his bottom lip creepily at the end of his sentence made you uneasy. Before you could even answer, Chishiya had pulled you by your arm roughly behind him, putting himself between you and Niragi and shoving on his chest to get him away.

“Fuck off you perv,” he cursed at him, “she’s staying here. I don’t care how much you need her. I wouldn’t even let her in the same room as you or Aguni without me there.”

Niragi scoffed and gave you both an angered look before turning away. “Fine. Keep that personality up around her Chishiya, she just might get sick of you treating her like a possession you have control over.”

***********

Another incident occurred when you were both at the neon coloured bar outside in the party area.

Chishiya had to leave for a few minutes to look for Kuina, so you decided to wait at the bar for him to return, despite his protesting.

You were nodding your head to the music and sipping your drink, enjoying your time by yourself and having a nice conversation with the young lady who was the bartender. You suddenly were pulled from your thoughts when a cold hand was placed on your lower back, making you jump and spin your head around with an annoyed expression.

“Hey gorgeous,” he slurred his words, obviously drunk. “You’re looking awfully lonely. You want to come dance with me,” he pressed, running a hand through your hair softly. You swatted his hand away from your face and shuffled over in your seat to distance yourself from him.

“No thanks,” you declined politely. “I’m actually with someone, so I’m waiting for them right now,” you tried to reassure him.

He frowned and looked around the bar for someone who you might have been with. “I don’t see anyone. I’m sure your partner won’t mind if you have a little dance with me~”

His flirtatious tone made you cringe. He seemed awfully insistent. You declined once again and stood up from your seat to walk away, but you didn’t get the chance to when he grabbed you by your waist and pulled your back against his chest. “Stop being so hard to get. I just want to get to know you a little better.”

You tried to pull yourself from his touch as he ran his hands along the skin of your stomach a bit too intimately for it to be comfortable.

To your surprise, you heard a loud impact noise and the man’s grip left your body. You turned around to see what had happened to notice none other than Chishiya standing above the man on the ground, taser in hand.

“Piss off you horny dog,” he spat towards him, tucking his weapon back into his hoodie pocket. You noticed the people surrounding you watching the scene, making you feel uneasy, but Chishiya grabbed you by your hand and dragged you away from the crowd, heading towards the hotel.

After walking for a while, Chishiya turned around and looked at you, concern painted across his face.

“Oh my god, are you okay baby?” he asked, frantically checking your body for any signs of injury. “Did he touch you anywhere? I’m so sorry I left. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that, especially around all those intoxicated people.”

He was rambling as he rubbed your skin, trying to comfort you. “Chishiya,” you said, interrupting him. “I’m fine, it’s not your fault.”

You pulled him into a passionate kiss, running your hands through his hair, trying to calm him. Chishiya wrapped his arms around your shoulders to pull you closer, making you feel his warmth against you.

You snaked your hands underneath his hoodie and wrapped them around his back, scratching lightly through the material of his shirt. Chishiya sighed and pulled away from your lips, looking into your eyes.

“You’re all mine,” he whispered, rubbing his nose against yours playfully. You smiled at his statement. “You’re mine, don’t forget that.”

You nodded as he leant downwards to bite underneath your jaw. “Maybe I’m not making that clear enough,” he slyly said, making you chuckle nervously at his words. You gasped as he latched onto the skin of your neck, sucking on a single spot harshly. H.

“Chishiya, don’t!” you whispered-yelled. “You’ll leave a mark!”

Chishiya pulled away from your skin and admired the purple bruise that had formed on your neck, making him smirk. “That’s the point baby,” he said in a teasing tone. He leant back down and licked over the spot lightly to sooth the bruise.

You smiled and playfully hit his shoulder. “Idiot,” you groaned and rolled your eyes.

[writteninkat]

Forever and Always | Bakugou x Reader

summary: "And I stare at the phone, he still hasn't called. And then I feel so low I can't feel nothing at all. And I flashback to when he said forever and always."

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: angst

a/n: i cried while writing this.

navigation

Eijirou's body is amazing; scultped abs, hard chest, chiseled arms and such broad shoulders. You watched as he did pull ups in front of you, with his back facing towards you. He lets go of the bars, turning around, smiling as he extends his hand. "Babe, can you pass me my towel please?"

"Babe, can you pass me my towel please?" Katsuki asks, sweat dripping down the side of his head, trailing down his neck, collar and chest before getting absorbed in his black tank top.

You throw him his towel, standing up from the bench. You lean forward, standing on your tippy toes to press your lips against his. The blond chuckles breathily, pouting a little, pressing his lips against yours.

Butterflies swarmed your tummy and you feel your heart skip a beat. This always happened whenever you kissed Katsuki. No matter how many times you've kissed him and no matter how long the both of you had been dating, he never failed to give you butterflies.

You feel someone step in front of you, snapping you out of your daze. You blink, looking up at the red head who's now taking his towel on his own.

"Ah, sorry babe. What were you saying?" You ask to which Eijirou shakes his head at. "It's okay, I got it." He wipes the sweat off his face, smiling brightly at you.

"Anyway, do you wanna go to that old ice cream parlor beside here? They don't have new flavors since like five years ago but I thought you might like a cone."

"I wanna go to that ice cream place beside the here." You pout, disregarding just how sweaty your boyfriend was as you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. "That's a bad habit, idiot. Stop pigging out right after hitting the gym." He laughs, flicking your forehead to which you knit your eyebrows at.

"Oh come on! They have a new flavor called 'blueberry cheesecake'! We should totally try it!" You whine, watching as your boyfriend packs his things in his gym bag. "You've eaten a blueberry cheesecake before, haven't you? Just imagine that but colder."

Despite what he said, he opens the door to the ice cream parlor for you. Sweat gone, the both of you had showered and changed your clothes before entering the cozy ice cream parlor.

The both of you sit by the window, looking out and enjoying the beautiful scenery of the mountains right behind the store.

You look back at your boyfriend who's sitting right in front of you, supposedly to tell him about the pretty bird you just saw, but stop once you saw how pretty he looked when he wasn't frowning or yelling.

Calm, softly smiling Katsuki Bakugou looking out and appreciating the beauty of nature. Your heart throbbed at the thought of how lucky you are to have him. Despite his harsh and loud nature towards others, he always gave off a different vibe when it came to you. He was much gentler, more careful with his choice of words and his actions.

His eyes flick towards you and he raises a brow. "Take a picture, it will last longer."

You smile, opening up your gallery to show off the many, many pictures you have of him stored in a secret album. You smile cheekily at him, "Already have a ton, thank you very much."

Katsuki smiles, chuckling as he shakes his head. "Idiot."

"Babe? You okay? You've been out of it since I asked you to hand me my towel, did I say something wrong?" You snap out of your daze once again, cursing at yourself. You look up at your boyfriend, smiling as you shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I think I need to head home and sleep. You have a meeting an hour from now, right? You should go." You press a kiss against Eijirou's cheek, smiling at him. "I'll wait for you at home."

You walk out of the gym, bag on your shoulder as you take a deep breath of fresh air in. You look up at the sky, frowning to see them all gray and cloudy. You begin walking down the road, looking around you.

The stores from before hadn't change at all. Especially-

"Ah! If it isn't my dear Y/n! Will you buy your usual caramel ice cream today too?" The old lady who runs the ice cream shop chirps at you, hands shaking as she grabs onto her cane to prevent herself from falling over.

"Granny! You know you can't be walking around, the doc said so!" Her granddaughter's voice is filled with concern as she places a hand below granny's elbow and on her back. She looks up at you, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, I guess Alzheimer's also makes her forget she can't walk properly now?" She jokes, chuckling awkwardly. You smile, bowing your head.

You walk right past the ice cream parlor, oblivious to granny's pout to your declination of her invite. You stuff your hands in your pocket, looking up at the sky as you sigh. Before you know it, your gaze falls upon the top of your apartment building.

"I'm home! And guess what I got you!" You chirp, entering your apartment as you hold the white plastic bag full of food in your hand. The sound of quick padded footsteps make you giggle as you set the bag oncthe counter.

Katsuki appears right in front the kitchen, excited eyes and a wide grin across his face making you laugh. He quickly rummages through the contents of the bag, yelling in excitement as he pulls out a red ramen cup.

"Hell yeah, extra spicy!" He cheers, running over to you to pull you into a tight hug. "Thanks babe!" He presses multiple kisses on the top of your head before pulling away to start boiling his water.

"Hey! It's not even dinner time yet!" You jokingly frown, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You loved Seeing Katsuki like this; all bubbly and cheery and excited. Such a sweet and bright soul, you come to a conclusion that yes, you are definitely going to love this boy forever.

You walk right past the kitchen, body feeling heavy as you make your way inside your shared bedroom. You drop your bag onto the carpeted floors and find your legs leading you towards your walk-in closet.

You bend down, pulling out a locked box from underneath your hung clothes. You sit on the floor, pressing on the code to unlcok the box before pulling the lif open.

The contents inside caused your heart to clench.

Butterfly pins.

"Idiot, what are you doing?" Katsuki frowns, tilting his head up to look at you. Your brows knit together as you push his head back, forcing him to face front. "I'm making your hair pretty!" You huff, clipping on the butterfly pins onto his hair.

"My hair's already damn pretty even without the stupid hairpins!" He argues.

"Then I'm making it prettier so sit still!"

"Tsk," Katsuki rolls his eyes, "Then you better do an amazing job. Don't mess up, idiot."

"That'll be pretty hard to accomplish if you keep moving your darn head like that!"

"Hah?! What did you just say to me?!"

Sumigadawa Fireworks Festival Polaroid

"Quit tugging, idiot!" Katsuki yells but remains ignored as you push through the crowd. The fireworks display was going to start soon but you wanted to enjoy a Taiyaki as you watched the display.

You jump excitedly in place, still tugging at your boyfriend's sleeve as you pointed as the sweet snack. Katsuki sighs, pulling out his wallet. The both of you end up buying two pieces, one for each of you.

As you move to start going back to where the field was, Katsuki pulls you back. You lift a brow at him and he begin pulling you to the opposite direction, now it was him dragging you.

"Suki, where are we going? The fireworks display will start soon!" You yell through the loud crowd of people. "Tsk. I know, idiot. Just trust me!" He yells, as he continues pulling you towards a place with a bunch of trees. The two of you walk up a hil for quite some time and as you reached the top, you're panting and you can feel your back dampening at the sudden work out.

"What the heck are we-" The sound of fireworks cut you off. You immediately turn to your right, following the direction of the sound. Your eyes widen as a clear view of the fireworks explode in front of you.

As you stare up at the brightly colored night sky in awe, Katsuki smiles at your dumb face. The colors of the fireworks lit your face ever so beautifully. How did he get so lucky to have you?

Your hand grabs onto his arm as your other one points up at the sky, "Look! Look! That one's pretty!" You point at a pink one slowly disappearing into the night sky.

"Hah! Bet I can create better ones." Katsuki shows off.

"Oh really? Prove it."

And just like that, he opens his palm in front of you a small explosions are created, just like the fireworks. You smile, watching it was similar to watch a snow globe after shaking it.

As your eyes continue to watch Katsuki's mini fireworks, he oulls you out of your daze by cupping your cheek. You look up at him, raising your brows before smiling, leaning in.

His lips are soft, sweet and warm. You never want to part from them.

A Promise Ring.

/"Why won't you fucking listen to me?!" You yell from the top of your lungs, feeling them burn as your tears scortched your cheeks.

"There are already enough heroes out there! You don't need to go-"

"I need to, Y/n! God fucking dammit I need to! Because I'm a hero! Because it's my job, it's my duty to keep people safe. To risk my life keeping you all safe!" Katsuki yells back, slamming his suit case close as you stand there in front of him, weak and helpless.

"Izuku said your chances of surviving the war would be-"

"Baby, baby, look at me." Katsuki shushes, cupping your cheeks. He wipes your tears away as he looks into your eyes, red orbs looking back at you. Soft, gentle and hurt red orbs look back at you. "I'll be fine." He whispers.

You place your hands on top of his, closing your eyes as you let your tears fall, your lower lip shaking as you let out an unever breath. Katsuki presses his lips on your forehead, wrapping his arms around you.

"Take off your ring." He says, pulling away from the hug. You do as told, face still flushed as you haven't finished crying yet. With shaky hands, you take off your ring.

"Look inside it." Katsuki mutters.

You do as told, feeling your heart clench in your chest.

"What does it say?" He asks.

"Forever and always."

You sob on the floor, bringing your legs up to your chest as you recall the feeling of your world crushing the second you heard the news from Izuku.

Your body grew heavy as you fell to your knees, your tears streaming down your chest at his pained expression. He crouches down, placing a hand on your shoulder. You sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, so loud your throat hurt.

Katsuki was your world. He meant everything to you. Now that he was gone, what do you have left to lose?

"He promised me!" You yell from the top of your lungs, "He promised to call me as soon as he was done! Why didn't he call?! Why hasn't he called yet?!" Your head throbbed as Izuku's geip on your shoulder tightened.

It wasn't just you who had lost a loved one, him and all your other friends, too. You banged your fist against your chest as you sobbed heavily, finding it difficult to breath, to take in the information that Katsuki was gone.

"I told him! I told him not to go!" You yelled right at Izuku, holding onto his shoulders. "Katsuki! My Katsuki! He's gone!" The pain you felt is unbearable, it's something you can't understand, it's something you never want to experience again.

"You promised me, forever and always!" You yell from the top of your lungs. "Where are you now? Why aren't you beside me? Where's my forever with you?" You sobbed, your tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably.

As you cry out your frustrations and anguish in one room, Eijirou sits in another room, face wet with his tears as he blubbered in the memory of his best friend.

It's times like these that you agree to David Jones; life went on, but it was never the same again.

[highdramas]

your song, vol. 1 | rockstar!bucky

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

rockstar!bucky barnes x fem!reader, some slight peter parker x reader in later parts (unrequited)

word count: 2429

warnings: references to sex, language, references to drug and alcohol use in later parts, age gap, slow burn-ish

summary: it’s not summer without you. or, that’s what your favorite rockstar always says. it’s all happening.

it is the summer of 1978, and everyone calls you rhiannon, and it has never occurred to you to mind.

really, it was sort of nice. rhiannon is a daredevil. rhiannon goes on tour with bands. rhiannon inspires songs and reads tarot and knows how to light up a room with a smile. rhiannon gets asked if she’s, like, the rhiannon. the rhiannon who rings like a bell through the night.

you’re not. but you’re not going to tell them that.

and, sure, you know that you’re capable of all of these things-- but it’s different when they’re calling you rhiannon.

it’s different when he is calling you rhiannon.

you’ve become somewhat of a myth in the california rock ‘n roll scene. groupies have flocked to you-- and you have somewhat rejected the term. found it degrading, the way that rock stars and fans spoke about groupies. it had been your personal mission during the summer of 1977 to change the way that men in rock spoke about women.

the summer that you met bucky barnes.

really, it wasn’t bucky that you had set your eyes on initially. initially, you’d shown up with his friend, steve rogers, the drummer. you and your group of band aids (you were still coining the name) had an in backstage and the second you had seen steve, you were a bit smitten. he wasn’t your typical rockstar. there was something kind about him, something genuine. he looked at you less like he wanted to fuck you and more like he wanted to know you.

it wasn’t until later that you met bucky. later, once you set out on tour with them.

when you found out that steve had a girl back home and he was simply being kind to you, it had reminded you of your mission. your mission to show all of these men what exactly women had to contribute to music and its existing scene-- and that it was more than being a side piece. more than being a fun distraction on the road.

that was the moment that you swore you would not fall in love with a rockstar.

the hotel you all had checked into was absolutely lavish. it was extravagant and beautiful, high ceilings and marbled floors and the shiniest doorknobs that you’ve ever seen. it’s 3:30 in the morning and the girls-- america and kate being your favorite of the whole bunch-- are out with the guys at the bar. you’re sure that they’re requesting brooklyn songs-- later on, you’d give bucky shit for suggesting that their band name should just be brooklyn. you give steve even more shit for going along with it.

after the revelation with steve, normally, you’d be in the mood to party. but you feel like shit and you fell asleep wrong on the bus and your neck is killing you. you don’t want to be a vibe killer, so you tell the girls to go on without you and maybe you’ll catch up with them later.

instead, at some point, you pad down to the pool. there is one lone figure sitting by an illuminated neon sign. it’s only when you’re within feet that you realize that it’s bucky.

of all of the members of brooklyn, you’d gotten to know bucky the least in the past week that you’ve been on the road with them. steve, sam, and natasha were all nice-- nicer than nice. steve and sam especially, but you knew why.

natasha is nice-- direct and passionate about what she does. and what she does is sing. you always said that brooklyn would be nothing if it wasn’t for nat’s husky vocals and insane songwriting.

then there’s bucky. the guitarist.

kate has been touring with brooklyn awhile now-- went with them on the europe leg. now she’s with their manager, clint, and she seems to know all the gossip. when you asked what was up with bucky-- why he was so quiet, why he didn’t like to party with the others, kate had given you that thousand watt smile and said-- “alright, don’t tell anyone about this, ‘specially buck, but he’s sober. couple years now, from what i hear. it’s real hard for him, being on the road.”

then, your mouth had made a slight o, you had nodded your head, and kate shone like the light she is before dashing off to find clint.

you’re brought back to that conversation now, seeing him hunched over on a reclining chair. you see that he is hugging his legs, smoking a cigarette. a bottle of root beer sits beside him on the ground.

your feet are working before your brain is, and before you know it, you’re standing before him. if he notices your presence, he doesn’t act like it.

“got one to spare?”

that’s when he finally glances up at you. his face is mostly unreadable-- furrowed brows and a set jaw, long brunette hair that almost brushes his shoulders. he is quite handsome. he’s the kind of man that you think is built for moments like these-- sitting by pools, pink neon radiating off his face. the kind of handsome that is a little bit intimidating. not like steve, who is all softness and warm smiles.

you sink onto the pool chair beside bucky as he nods. he passes you a cigarette and you pop it between your lips. bucky’s zippo seems to come out of nowhere, and you watch as the end begins to burn, and you take your first drag of your first cigarette.

a coughing fit ensues. naturally. you hold it awkwardly between the fingers of your right hand and you cover your mouth with your left, hacking up your lungs. bucky’s brows furrow and it’s then, and only then, when the faintest hint of a smirk drags onto his features. “you alright?” his hand moves to your back and rubs in circles, pats it lightly, until you’re bleary eyed and looking over at him with a loud laugh.

it was natural after that.

where bucky was, it was safe to assume that you weren’t far behind. but it wasn’t like that. if anyone asked who you were with, you wore a proud expression and said with little hesitation, “myself.”

each time, bucky glanced between you and whatever sorry schmuck was in your path, and he shrugged his shoulders. “you heard her.”

things were easy with bucky. you had laid the ground rules that night, on the pool chaise. you had straightened your shoulders and you said, “i made the vow not to fall in love with anyone this summer.”

bucky had raised an eyebrow at you and watched as you took his root beer and took a long pull, his eyes fixating onto yours. “funny, so did i.”

the summer of 1977 was a dream.

but you had to wake up.

when you’re not rhiannon, you’re… you. you’re a student at oxford university on a full ride scholarship, studying political science, eventually law. you want to be the first woman president. you have bigger dreams and aspirations than being a band aid.

but you don’t mind slipping into your dream state between the months of may and september. you don’t mind one bit.

on the last night of tour, in nashville, you and bucky had spent the whole night in his room. you talked and you laughed, you laid together and you talked about school and he talked about recording the next album. you said how you wished you could be there for it, and he said how he’d like to see oxford.

that’s another thing about dreams.

when you’re in them, you can nearly believe that they can exist in the real world. but they can’t.

you and bucky had toed a very thin line for a long time. and you tumbled off of it together that night.

when you said your goodbyes in the airport the next morning, everyone else around as well, it seemed to suck any of the intimacy out of the room. you told him then that you always hated airports-- they reminded you of goodbyes.

bucky had shrugged, and said, “they remind me of hellos.”

you hugged. he kissed the corner of your mouth, the closest thing to an outright public display of affection as you two would get. and you left. you went back to real life.

but now, it is 1978. and it is the summer before your senior year of college, and you are backstage at the bee gees at the forum. and brooklyn is opening.

of course you knew that you would see him. he had written you letters over the course of the past year, like a gentleman. you’d tucked them away in your hat box and wrote back about your studies and your roommates. and at the end of the last letter you sent, you wrote: hope you wrote that song about me. xx

you didn’t tell him you were going on the road this summer. you’d been in touch with kate and met up in beverly hills with her. she told you about how she and clint had moved in together in new york and you sipped coffee and went with her as she shopped at places that were far out of your budget. and then you’d met up with clint and he got you your pass.

and now you’re here, with a packed duffel.

it’s a wonder you haven’t run into him yet. there’s a part of you that hopes he doesn’t know-- that he’s going to come out here and see you and that the air is going to be knocked from him as he takes in the visage of you.

beginning to grow anxious, you throw yourself into a chair backstage in a huff. a boy who must be around your age is sitting on the arm of it, and looks down at you curiously. “you alright?”

“never better,” you say and inspect your nail. “you seen the band?”

“who, bee gees? nah, haven’t had a chance--”

“no. brooklyn.”

“oh.” he goes quiet and nods his head. “i got a chance to talk to ‘em just now. i’m trying to do a piece on them.”

your jaw slacks a bit and you nod your head. “oh.” a journalist. of course he is. “how exciting for you.”

“yeah, it’ll be my first real piece. i’ve written some stuff for my college paper, but nothing like this. i can’t believe i even got in. i met this girl gwen and she found me a pass.”

“gwen’s a real keeper,” you say and you wink. your words are honest. you like gwen. “what’s your name, kid?”

“peter parker.”

you stick your hand out. “nice to meet you, peter parker.”

he shakes it and he raises his eyebrows at you, as if waiting for an introduction on your end. “and you are…” he finally begins.

“that’s rhiannon.”

the voice jars you. you don’t dare look behind you, but you already know who it is. you feel large hands on your shoulders and it takes every ounce of pride and self worth inside of you not to let your body erupt into shivers. “she’s the heart of brooklyn.”

a scoff passes your lips and you tip your head back, and you’re not disappointed by what you see. you never are. “you’re always so dramatic,” you coo. your attention shifts back to peter, but your skin is buzzing where bucky touches you, and you have nearly ten months worth of time to catch up on with him. “it was nice meeting you, peter parker.”

subtlety is not your strong suit, and peter must gather that, because he scrambles to get his things and scurry off. you give a slight wave and make a mental note that you’d like to get to know him if he sticks around. “nice kid,” you say.

“don’t want to talk about him.”

you can’t help yourself now. a giddy squeal bursts from your lips and you turn and you fling yourself at him. you’re all arms and legs flailing, clutching to him, and he holds you just as tight. there’s that sort of husky, low laugh that leaves him, and you remember it from that night that you wanted to impress him by smoking a cigarette. “hey, rhi.”

“hi,” your voice is muffled in his neck. you don’t care who’s watching, you don’t care what they whisper— for the first time, you don’t care if they assume you’re going to go back to bucky’s room and fuck him stupid. you care that he’s here. that’s bigger than your pride.

“didn’t tell me you’d be comin’. had to hear from kate.”

“yeah, well...” you pull back and look up at him, hands resting on his shoulders. his find your hips and pull you in. “i wanted to surprise you. am i a happy surprise?”

bucky is the kind of person who thinks before he speaks, but also, you believe that he thinks before he emotes. there’s a beat before he’s licking his lips, nodding his head. “nah. it’s gonna be such a drag having my girl on the road with me.”

my girl.

you squint at him and push him away right in his chest, and he gapes, rubbing it and feigning hurt. “don’t pull that,” you point at him. “same rules as last summer, alright? we— we went over this.”

exasperated, bucky sighs, head lolling to the side. “yes ma’am.”

ten months ago bucky told you he was in love with you.

ten months ago bucky told you he’d follow you all over the world.

ten months ago you agreed that it was a horrible idea, and that your friendship was too vital, too real, too special to risk messing it up.

ten months later, you’re hoping you won’t regret this decision.

you can see the disappointment in his face. gently, you touch the side of his face and you smile a bit. “in another life.” those were the words you had said to him, all those nights ago.

bucky’s face breaks your heart over and over again. he gives you that gentle but sad look-- the look of a man who has what he wants right within arms reach, but knows that he cannot fully grasp. knows that he cannot fully keep.

“i’ll have you any way you want me,” is all he finally says. “‘s not summer without you.”

you’d made a promise to him that night. you had told him you weren’t going to fall in love with anyone in the summer of 1977.

but it is the summer of 1978. and this is the story of how you fall in love with bucky barnes.

[cvtqr]

cammed 

series masterlist

i. | iii.

chapter two; the incident

content warning; smoking, drinking, hand and blow job, face-fucking

8 months ago

eren jaeger didn't have much to do in his free time. no sports, no care for studying extra, nothing. he spent his days drinking, smoking, fucking. his days were on repeat, over and over again. 

he was in a frat, not that he actually cared about it. it was just free access to booze and parties. but constant partying for him can get a little... boring. nothing interesting, or new, happened anymore. he was about to lock himself in his room the whole night, since he heard about all the freshmen that would be coming. just a bunch of kids who think they’re grown, he couldn’t be bothered with that.

“hist’, don't you think this a bit much?” 

you emerged from historia’s bathroom, wearing the outfit she picked out for you. “its perfect!” she squealed, running up to you, “you look so hot, y/n!!”

playfully rolling your eyes at her, you patted the top of her blonde head. “but this is my first party, what kind of impression is this?” the outfit she left you wasn't casual, at all. it was revealing, up from your chest, down to every curve it perfectly squeezed.

“one saying that you’re fucking hot. reiner should be there too, i think he's grown a liking to you.” she winked at you before running back over to get her shoes, leaving you flustered in the door frame. 

brushing it off with a cough, you walked over the the door of historia’s dorm. 

“we’ve only been here, i’ve only known him for a month. plus isn’t he two years older than us? he wouldn't want to be with someone so inexperienced, in every field, like me.”

“that doesn't mean shit, y/n.” taking her small bag, she walked over to the door as you held it open.

“hmm, what about you? i think ymir’s trying to get close, don't you think?”

quickly turning her head away from you, her ears peaked out of her hair with a light pink tint to them.

“what! that's crazy, she's just being friendly!” walking away towards the building exit, you giggled while running up behind her. “yeah yeah, what ever you say"

walking into the loud and foggy house, you had to hold on tight to historia, or you'd get lost with the amount of people. this was your first college party after all. historia has been to plenty in your month of being here, but you've never seemed to care about them. grabbing your hand, she guided you into a small, secluded living-room area. 

“wow, you dragged y/n out for once. impressive, really historia.”

“thanks, guess i just have that charm.” giving jean a playful wink, she sat down next to ymir, as her hand found her way around her waist. you on the other hand took a seat next to jean, rolling your eyes at him.

“nice outfit.” he couldn't be anymore obvious as his eyes wandered down every part of your body. “thanks. do you know...- do you know if reiner’s here?”

“oh yeah my bad, forgot you have the hots for blondie. he should be outside, maybe by the pool.” you gave him a nod as you stood back up onto your feet. you tried to tell historia where you were going, but her mouth was already occupied being shoved into ymir’s face. 

surprisingly, it didn't take you that long to find the backdoors of the house. you took a step outside, a slight breeze greeting your face. there was one problem though, reiner was no where to be found. your eyes scanned the backyard, but you still couldn't find him. and a guy like him was hard to miss. who did catch your eye was a certain tall brunette. 

“bertholdt!” running up to him, you rested your hand on his shoulder. “o-oh y/n, hey!”

“do you have any clue where reiner is?” you removed your hand from his shoulder, you were unsure if you were making him nervous or uncomfortable. either way you liked reiner and didn't want to leave a bad impression by making his best friend uncomfortable. “actually i do!” he turned you around and pointed towards a small bar in the corner. “he should be over there... if not he’ll be back soon, probably taking a piss or something”

“ok, thanks ber!”

“anytime, y/n” you gave him a smile before walking over to the bar. reiner was still no where to be found. you were about to give up and go back to historia inside, until you felt a certain pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“hi.”

“reiner... hey.” he loosened his grip around your waist, allowing you to turn around and properly hug him. “i've been lookin for you”

he let go of you and pulled out a chair for you to sit in before walking behind the bar. “yeah, sorry about that. you want something to drink?” 

“i’ll just have water for now.” giving you a smile, he leaned over to pull a water bottle out of the mini fridge. 

“toss me one too, bartender.” a semi-deep voice caught you off guard, creeping up behind you. feeling your breath shaken up, you had to cover it up by cleaning your throat. “thought you weren't coming down tonight, eren.” 

reiner tossed the water bottle behind you, the man catching it. he took a seat down next to you, giving you a better look of all his features. dark brown hair, sloppily thrown into a messy bun, defined face, beautiful eyes. he was wearing a pear of black sweats and an opened zip of hoodie, no shirt. you felt like you were about to drool as his defined abs glowed in the lights surrounding the bar. 

“not staying, i was just thirsty.” his eyes shifted towards you. you felt the goosebumps rise onto your skin as he looked you up and down. “this the girl you've been babbling about?”

“hey! what're your talking about man...”

“no need to be all shy, reiner.” he held out his hand in front of you. “eren jaeger.” you took the hand into yours, shaking it. it was rough and veiny, a few rings thrown onto it. “f/n. f/n l/n.” 

shaking his hand for a few seconds, you didn't want to let go. it felt so warm, comforting. but not to be creepy, you pulled your hand away and placed it back onto your water bottle. “well, ill leave you two be.” 

and just like that, he picked up his bottle and walked back into the house. “i think i’ll take up that drink-... actual drink offer.”

it was no surprise, or secret, that you were a light weight. it didn't take long for the night to progress, as you getting drunker and drunker hanging out with reiner. its been about two hours since you started drinking, and your head was spinning. you ended up loosing reiner somewhere along the way, and met back up with historia. 

you and a bunch of her friends sat slouched on the couch, completely wasted. you all just wanted to go back into your beds, but figured you needed some time to cool off before heading back. “where's the bathroom?” you pushed yourself up, rubbing your forehead.

“you can use the one upstairs since no one down here would use that one, third door on your left.”

thanking jean, you dragged yourself off the sofa and up the nearby staircase of the house. you turned down to a long hallway of doors, finding the bathroom. third door on the... right?

opening the door, you defiantly were not met with the bathroom. a huge bed took up the room in front of you, the guy from before sitting on the edge of it. he had his head thrown back as he softly inhaled from a blunt. as he heard the door open, he turned his head, now facing you.

“s-sorry, i thought this was the bathroom.” he lifted up his hand free from the blunt, pointing across the hall. “its okay, right across from here.”

you gave him a nod as you were about to turn yourself around. “wait... someones in there, just use mine.”

“are you sure?” you took a small, hesitant, step into eren’s room. “yeah, its just a bathroom.”

he got himself up and walked over to the other side of the room, opening a white door for you. “thank you so much!” you ran over to him and entered the bathroom. “anytime.” he said as he closed the door from you. 

the small room smelt just like him, the strong scent of cologne that lingered everywhere he went. finishing your business in the bathroom, you opened the door to find eren now seated at the edge of the bed facing the entrance of his room, the door closed. 

“soo... you friends with reiner?” you stayed in the door frame of the bathroom, keeping your distance. “hm? oh yeah, you could say that.” yet again, he took the blunt up to his lips, inhaling the smoke.

“i don't bite, you know. you don't have to stand in the bathroom.” taking a deep breath, you shifted over towards eren. he patted the bed next to him, indicating for you to sit down. something about him made you nervous, just his whole vibe. but at the same time, his presence was comforting. you took a seat next to him, fidgeting with your fingers. 

“you want a hit?” you cracked the knuckles in your fingers, looking down at the floor. even though you weren't looking in his direction, you felt his eyes burning right through you. “oh..- i don't know. i-i’ve never really, you know.”

“that's ok... do you wanna-, want to try something?” you didn't know how to respond. you were hesitant as you slightly shook your head, brining it up to face him. 

“c'mere” he patted his lap, moving his sweatshirt out of the way. for some reason this felt... wrong. you liked reiner, you didn't want to mess that up. but god knows what a guy like him does while you're not around. you guys weren't necessarily dating, so you could use a little fun once in awhile. right?

you pushed yourself up onto eren’s lap, straddling his waist. you felt the heat rushing up all over your face, you probably looked like a nervous wreck. once you were situated, eren took his free hand up to gently cup your face. bringing his thumb down to your mouth, he used to part your lips and open your mouth. he kept it wide open, now gripping your jaw. 

he pulled the blunt up to his lips, taking a deep inhale, but holding it in his mouth. he then hovered his face above yours, and opened his mouth above yours. bringing his lips just inches away from yours, he blew the smoke into your mouth.

if the sexual tension wasn't bad before... it could now be sliced clean. you accepted the smoke, inhaling it into your lungs. not that they reacted good. you immediately started clearing your throat, facing your head to the side. he let out a long, deep chuckle as you turned your head back to face him. why did he have to be so attractive. 

you didn't even know this guy, but something about that made you want him all that more. you looked down into his eyes, slowly bringing your lips down to his. he beat you to it though, crashing his lips up onto yours. it wasn't something soft, or sweet. it was out of pure lust. rough and sloppily, he shoved his tongue into your mouth. taking in every part of him, you felt a way you've never felt before. but the guilt was coming up on you, reiner was the one you liked, yet the thought of him even existing left your mind as you mushed yourself into eren.

it didn't take long for your hands to wander down his already exposed chest, feeling up on everything. you gently traced your hands on the outline of his shoulder, before pushing the sweatshirt off his toned body. his hands found your hips, pushing them down onto himself. complying, you slowly started to grind your hips onto his now fully erect cock. 

the short dress you were wearing was now fully ridden up your body, eren’s hands pulling it above your hips. not stoping the movement of your hips, your hands found their way down eren’s body, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants. “you don't have to-”

you brought your eyes up to meet his once again. “want to though.” you slowly guided your hands down his sweatpants, into his boxers. before doing anything else, you pushed the both of you down onto eren’s plush mattress. 

taking his pants and boxers, you pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out and slam up against his abs. it was so pretty... pretty long and girthy, two long veins running down the shaft, and a pretty dark pink tip oozing pre-cum. you spat into your hand before carefully picking it up in your hands. brining your hand to the head, you took the pre cum and lathered his shaft in it and your saliva. 

moving your body to the side a bit, you started off at a slow pace as you dragged your hand up and down his rock hard cock. picking up the pace of your hand, you had your eyes focused on his face. he had his head thrown back onto the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut. gaining some sort of confidence, you stopped the movement in your hands, and you pushed yourself down onto the bed. situating yourself onto eren’s legs, your brought the tip of his cock to your mouth, teasing it with your tongue. you weren't the best at this, but the way erens hands flew straight to your hair, you knew you wanted to try. try and make him feel good. 

you wrapped your lips around the head of him, before pushing yourself down as far as you could.

“fuuuck-, y/n”

he propped himself back up onto his elbow, watching your every move. when you looked up to him, his mouth was hung wide open, but nothing came out. you continued the movement of your mouth, his grip on your hair only got tighter. he just couldn't help himself at this point. he thrusted his hips into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat as you let out a small gag, which only sent vibrations around him. you didn't want him to stop though. it didn't take long of him pulling your head up and down before he came. slightly salty cum squirting out right down your throat. 

he pulled you back up, as you swallowed as much as you could, some still dribbling out from your mouth. you both let out a long breath as you closed your eyes. before eren could flip you back onto the bed, you stood up onto the ground. 

“wait-”

you pulled your dress back down over your bottom half and brushed it off. “i should get back to my friends, they probably want to leave.”

he sat himself onto the bed and grabbed your hand into his, gently. “are you sure? i feel bad that you didn't-”

“don't worry about it! anyways im a... uh-”

“virgin... hm i wouldn’t have guessed that.” you didn't know how to take that, so you just brushed it off with an awkward chuckle.

“can i have your number anyway?” you nodded your head as eren pulled out his phone. he unlocked it, pulling up a blank contact page. you happily put in your information before returning his phone back to him.

“ill text you, eren!” you walked over to the door of his room, opening the handle.

“good. i have to talk to you anyway.”

@kqtsukisgf @brooklynalpha

[sleepyseguin]

tyler seguin | i still see your face (nsfw)

summary: you and tyler break up. it’s harder than you thought it would be. 

a/n: highly recommend listening to driver’s licence by olivia rodrigo to get the whole vibe. my spotify must think i have a problem by the constant repeat. 

It’s not like you haven’t had a break up before. It’s just that this one feels different. Raw. A ragged edge that’s been torn. You drink too much beer and sleep too little. Your friends rally around you, of course they do, drag you to clubs with too many teenagers, tell you they never liked Tyler anyway. But the lie is thin, and in the dim bathroom of the bar one says, but why did you guys break up? What happened? You blink at her, mouth tasting of tequila. I don’t know.

-/-

Of course you know. You’re an adult. You made this decision together, sat on his couch. One of his throw pillows hugged to your chest so he couldn’t see the way your hands were shaking.

“If this is really what you want,” Tyler had said, and you could hear the scratch in his throat, the way his eyes shone too bright. Unshed tears.

 You hadn’t been able to speak, tongue too thick, hot tears on your cheeks, fresh ones ready to replace as they dried sticky on your chin.

 He was away from home too much. Your lives were going in different directions. You had opportunities to travel with work, and it’s not like he could come with you. It was best to do it now, a clean break, rather than struggle on, slowly tearing.

 You’d cried all the way home from his house, struggling to keep the wheel straight. Your mother would have been horrified by the reckless driving. When you’d finally dared to look at your phone, that first night alone, Tyler’s text made you sob all over again. I love you. Always.

-/-

You talk to him, sometimes. You can’t help yourself. It’s like an itch that becomes unbearable. You have to scratch. Meaningless text message chains. How are you? Fine, you? I’m okay. I miss you. I miss you too. You know it’s not helpful, not the path towards healing that your married friends preach. But it makes it easier to sleep. Knowing he’s still out there. It’s a blissful kind of agony when he texts you unprompted, in the middle of the night, sometimes the middle of the afternoon. I think of you all the time or I dreamt about you or I thought I saw you at the game. Your own misery overwhelms. Winter sets in. You struggle through grey days, take the long way home to drive past his street. Pray you don’t see another car next to his.

-/-

You cry on the phone to your mother, great big sobs like a child does when they’ve lost their favourite toy. She tells you she’ll fly out.

 “No, it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can do this.”

 “You can,” she assures, but the surety seeps away as soon as you hang up. A bottle of wine in front of the television. Take out. You’re either starving or not hungry at all now. You only watch ten minutes of an episode before you’re switching to the NHL channel. It’s too hard to forget the schedule. It’s like a reminder in your brain when you wake up in the morning, he’s playing today. You used to nap together, in the afternoons before games. The weak sunlight, the dancing dust mites. A Friend’s episode turned low. Tyler would reach for you in his sleep, nuzzle into your neck. Like he could never get close enough. Like he knew you would leave one day.

-/-

A mutual friends birthday. You’d tried to make excuses, but even you didn’t believe them.

 “It’s worse to avoid him,” your friend says, “It will only make it harder later.”

So in an effort to do the Right Thing, to be a Big Girl, and Move On, you find yourself drinking too strong punch, pieces of apple and orange floating in a plastic cup, leaning into a guy you just met and laughing too loud.

 And it is fun. For awhile. A mix of old friends and new. Loud music. And for most of the night, he’s not there. He’s so late you think he’s not coming. And you pretend you’re crying because you’re relieved and not because you’re disappointed. You’ve been smart enough to take yourself to the bathroom for the small meltdown, bent over the counter and taking deep breaths. You’re too old to be getting this smashed at a house party. It’s hard to focus on yourself in the mirror, bending light. It’s a good thing he’s not coming, you tell yourself, and wish you could believe it.

 You’re headed to the kitchen, the sink full of ice and hiding your drinks. Tyler is there. Tyler is there, standing in the hallway, talking to the host. His big hand makes the beer he’s holding look like a kid’s toy. He’s laughing, crinkly eyes, the sound reaching you. Slapping the guy on the shoulder, enjoying the joke. He’s so happy. How can he be so happy?

Dark eyes meet yours, the fall of his mouth from the grin. He goes to say something, call out maybe, but you’re turning away already, pushing back into the lounge room, the backdoor. Fresh air. Cold crisp of a Texan winter. The weather reporters are saying it might snow this year. He finds you. Of course he does. In the back-garden, looking up at the moon, counting stars. Your name in a familiar voice. The way he says it makes your heart hurt. You can barely look at him, the grass moving under your feet as you turn to face him. Curls peeking out from under a beanie. Black hoodie, dark jeans. You recognise the hoodie. You used to wear it to bed sometimes.

 “Hi,” you say, trying to be causal, wanting desperately to be, but at the same time you’re reaching out, clinging onto his arm. Don’t ever let go again.

 Tyler smiles, sad and small, “It’s nice to see you.”

 “Yeah,” you breathe, head back, gazing up at him. The moon has nothing on Tyler. Come back to me, you want to say, but this is your fault. You did this. You made this happen.

 “I wanted to talk to you,” he says, and you think yes, yes, just ask me, I’ll come back I promise, “I think it’s better if we don’t talk anymore. It’s too hard.”

 “Oh,” you say. It suddenly seems so much colder out here. “Okay.”

You watch him walk away, back into the house, the light of the party. And if you cry in the Uber on the way home, no one else has to know.

-/-

The first time you sleep together, afterwards, you could almost convince yourself it’s an accident. Not talking hadn’t lasted long. A loss, a commiserating text, a wish to just go back to the way things were. We can, you’d said, just for one night.

 It’s almost awkward, the way he’s a stranger around you again. He looks tired, sore, sweatpants and a hoodie. Pink cheeks from the cold outside. His hair is still damp from the shower, curling around his ears. You want to stay here, like this, forever, letting him sit you down in the bed, holding your face in his big hands to kiss you from where he stands between your knees. The way Tyler says your name, wanting, needy. The press of his body on yours. You missed this. You missed this so much. It would never be the same with anyone else. The way he touches you, so carefully, so purposefully. He knows just how you like it, just how you work together.

 It’s a habit, for you to be on top after a game, not worth making him expend any more energy. But he fights you for it, doesn’t let you settle, rolls you over onto your back again. You protest, mildly.

 “It’ll make you sore,” you say, can’t stop touching him, his hair, his face, his back, his chest. His skin is warm from the hoodie.

 “Don’t care,” Tyler says, a crooked smile, nudging his nose against yours, “I want it like this, want to see you properly.”

 Your heart is broken and remade simultaneously. It’s all you can do not to pull the doona over both of you and hide forever, keep him here like a prisoner. Cherish him for an age. His mother would never forgive you.

 Your body aches for him, as he nudges open your legs, kisses your mouth, your neck, your breasts. You should take your time, enjoy it, the last time, but you can’t help but surge towards the end.

 “Want you inside me,” you whisper, fingers on his hips, angling him.

 “Yeah,” Tyler rasps, aligning himself, “Fuck. Yeah, please.”

The relief of him sinking home, the opening of your body to him. It’s too easy, almost, the rhythm he settles into. Your legs tight around his waist, groaning when he pulls one up over his shoulder, finds a new angle. A big hand palming at your breast, the way he says your name, thick and low. You come a few moments before him, get off on the way he watches you, holds you, fingers caressing just above where he slides in and out of you. It takes everything not to cry, the final release, the drop of endorphins.

 Tyler shakes when he comes, a whole body shudder as he holds himself deep, panting against your ear. You stare at the ceiling and blink away tears. How could you ever have walked away from this? Nothing feels right unless he’s here.

 Later, he gets up to leave, but you reach out before he can get out of bed.

 “Please stay,” you whisper, pathetic. Tyler’s a shadow in the dark, but he’s warm when he slides back under the covers, gathers you up against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat as you fall asleep.

-/-

It takes you another week to swallow your pride. You call your mother, again, cry on the phone, again.

 “I think I was wrong, I think I made a huge mistake.”

 “If he is who you say he is,” she counsels, “He’ll forgive you.”

 “What if he doesn’t?”

You’re convinced that someone will be in your parking spot the whole drive to his house. A new car. A girl’s car. You can’t breathe along his whole tree lined street, until you see the empty spot. Like it’s waiting for you. Like it has been this whole time.

 You almost slump into him when he opens the door, the relief, the grief. He’s surprised to see you. Sleepy. Got in late last night from a Roadie. The dogs are everywhere at once, bumping you into each other as they try to get a cuddle. Tyler stumbles into you, forced by Marshall’s heavy tail. Your hand on his ribcage, steadying. Are you really going to do this? On his front step? Behind him, you can see your red coat on the coat hook. So that’s where it was. You’ve been looking for it in the cold. And he’s kept it, this whole time. Waiting for you.

 “I’m sorry,” you say, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Tyler shakes his head, confused, furrowed brow, “What’s going on?”

 “I made a mistake. I made a stupid mistake. I got scared, and I panicked. The truth is. I love you. And I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. And it’s scary. I’m so scared. But I shouldn’t have taken it on you like this. It was wrong. And if you can’t. If you can’t forgive me I understand. But. I really, really want you, too.”

 He says your name, quietly, prayer like. Your hand is still on his chest.

 “Are you sure?” He asks, and the dogs are still all around you, the front door is wide open. Tyler’s socked feet on the porch.

 “I’m so sure.”

And he’s laughing. He’s laughing. And he’s kissing you. Warm and fresh and familiar. And then you’re laughing and then you’re crying and Tyler is just holding, holding, holding you.

And along the street, a warm breeze blows through the trees. The promise of summer.

[scandeniall]

story of us

pairing: suna x reader

the story of ur relationship <3; alternatively (more) dating sunarin headcanons but this time is somewhat of an order and talks good and bad 2K+ worth lol

a/n: i had more planned but half of these have been sitting in my notes for months and its kinda fucking long already bc he lives rent free!!!

warnings: uh the usual aged up (in ur 20s time skip type beat), language, yeah

Meeting

Now when y’all met suna was not looking to love at all. That man was just living his life and so where you. The two of you pretty much meet through komori. You’re a friend and it’s his birthday so him and a few of his friends go out for drinks bc why not. Young hot pretty financially stable v-ball players. Nah no ones there for any type of hookups literally just there celebrating a great guy.

They rent out a section at a relatively nice bar tbh. Not the cheapest and you can actually hear conversation. But also not a super expensive one where the patrons are middle aged with jazz music and the occasional track to relive “youth.” Komori’s a sweetie and will come outside to get you when you text that you’re there. You’ve met washio and ofc sakusa Before so you greet them casually then you turn and there’s Suna and a few others you haven’t met.

That greeting isn’t anything special I promise. Just “hey I’m so and so” and vice versa. It’s one of those meetings where you just think “he’s cute” but it’s such a fleeting thought. Y’all don’t even really talk that first night tbh. At the next practice Suna mentions offhandedly that he didn’t know komori was dating someone and komori is like: huh? Yeah sorry. I love (Y/N) and all but were just friends. Suna just shrugs not really caring to be honest until Komori just asks what did he think of you.

“Don’t really remember much man. Seemed cool though” he didn’t think he’d really see you again. Yeah you were close enough to have been at Komori’s birthday but if that was his first time ever meeting you, he figured you weren’t from around there are present very much. Yeah he was wrong.

Suddenly you were on Komori’s snap story more often, or maybe he’d just been noticing more. Too bad he couldn’t even remember your name 💀. Then it turned into you occasionally popping up where he was. He’d been told your name at least 5 times already but wouldn’t remember it the next day. Whenever he’d see you again he’d get a strained look like: “what is this mf name again” just laugh and tell him again bby.

That changed at some random house party by another mutual friend you two apparently had? You two were the only people just around the fire pit trying to catch some warmth in the chilly night. He’s probably just on his phone head bobbing his head to the muffled music from inside. And you’re just like “remember my name yet?” All jokingly. This sparks the tiniest bit of interest in him and he lets out a low chuckle and just admits “not at all.” I also feel like this is the first time he really looks at you and he’s like 🤨, wait you’re actually kinda cute.

That night y’all just kinda talk and vibe. The conversation comes easy as you two jump back and forth from talking about the music playing to sneakers which he brings up to stuff that you like. He’s actually really easy to talk to. So easy that u can forget about him not remembering your name despite meeting several times. You mention that you’d hung around komori before while they were gaming and that he seemed pretty cool. That leads him to asking “how do you know him anyways?”

“I used to date Sakusa”

Mentally he’s just like— ‘yeah I’m not getting involved in this. Time to go.’ Until you just start laughing.

“I’m kidding. He’s not really my type. We met after being paired together for a project in school.”

The two of you spend quite a bit of time just talking that night until you are joined again by some friends and it’s deadass like y’all weren’t just talking for almost an hour straight.

Getting Together

The process of getting together is like a cat and mouse game. You two start getting closer than friends and then something happens and you’re not talking for weeks. Whether it be life just getting busy, and then someone ending up on some random tinder date or so be it. Definitely one of those things were somehow someway y’all end up just hanging on one of your couches watching a movie. At some point there’s definitely a hint of sexual tension but neither of y’all act on it (later on you find on his finsta that he used to post several “i wont you 😔” memes  Folks can’t tell if hes joking or not (hes not))

You probably gotta tell that man you like him so if that ain’t you I’m sorry. Y’all not dating 😹. It’s something casual, y’all going to pick up some snacks for a movie night and why this mf keep looking at you out the side of his eyes instead of the road. You def texting the groupchat asking if you should confess. They tell you to boss up and just do it baby.

You literally end up confessing in that parking lot. Like right when he shuts the car off and starts swinging his keys on his finger and you kinda just blurt “I like you. Like like you.” He just kinda nods before his eyes widen. “Wait are you fr?” Like no you’re joking tf. It gets a lil awkward so you just go to get out the car and he’s like “I like like you too.”

I definitely don’t think either of you ever officially asked the other out it’s just at some point the understanding that you two are a couple. Like when you’re hanging out just you two hes more touchy, and then y’all start kissing and holding hands at some point. Then when you’re with friends he almost exclusively sits next to you and your friends notice the whispers in one another’s ears at the loud bar that seem just a hint too intimate for ppl who are just friends. Then y’all start arriving and leaving places together and people just at some point get the message (it’s later confirmed by you tweeting some shit like: I hate Rin why is that mf my boyfriend)

As far as anniversaries y’all draw straws to pick a day in the ballpark of the time y’all both think you became official. That’s the day you stick with even if it’s not true.

Relationship Flaws

A fault in the relationship is sunas kinda poor communication when it comes to things that matter. How he feels. Arguments. Love sure as hell don’t come east with anyone but when your partner won’t let you in? Yeah that’s like hell. That’s something you struggle with. And then on your end, it’s the impatience with him not letting you in. You try to wrongfully rush it.

 There’s definitely been arguments that stem from him just being upset about something unrelated to the relationship then coming to you for comfort without actually telling you what’s wrong. He kinda just wants to lay with his head on his chest but at some point that’s not enough. Y’all are in a relationship and should be able to talk about your bad days too.

You’re not innocent in this issue either because sometimes it comes off too pushy. Yes it’s from a place of care but sometimes that silent comfort is necessary. The walls will break in due time and y’all both know that deep in the back of your minds But then there’s a part that’s like— yeah we can’t let this become the norm

“Rin, can you please talk to me”

He will have literally told you “whatever” and that he “can’t deal with this rn” several times as he just shrugs and is like yeah “I’m gonna just go home. I’ll text you later” with an awkward ass pat on your shoulder if it really ruined his mood. If he’s leaving before he gets super upset and uncomfortable just some half assed kiss in your cheek

Another thing is I feel like he could be passive aggressive and let’s be real other folks doing it causes you to do it to. Y’all probably drag eachother on your finstas where you can both see it lol

But when it comes to making up he cracks first and apologizes when he started it. Or as y’all get more comfy with communication. If it’s not anything major he’ll just hit you with a text like “I’m bored come hang”

More Relationship Things

I feel like he love/hates driving. Likes the ride not always driving though. So if you ever proposed a late night drive he’d be down (if you offer to drive). He does let y’all take his car though. He reclines the seat pretty far back. Alternates between just closing his eyes vibing w/ the music or kinda just looking at you (he the type of bf that makes u nervous no matter how long y’all been together)The way he looks at you makes you nervous cause that man is fine as hell and you can just feel his eyes on you.

He films you on Snapchat and sends the video to you like “you look hot”

If he’s not ‘resting his eyes’ he’s mumbling along to the music because he has the aux. if y’all music tastes are different he occasionally throws in something you really like bc he likes how you perk up at one of your fav songs

Moving on. Y’all dap eachother up after s3x because it’s “modern romance” (boy stfu). You two came up with a sex playlist together and it’s on both of your phones. Sometimes one of you will add a troll song that the other doesn’t know and put it in the lineup. (Stole my heart by 1D has definitely played before and you were practically in tears laughing at his reaction. That was one of those songs he was like ‘yeah alright i think we’re done).

At some point you two develop your own handshake and it’s cute. Whenever either of you have to travel without the other that’s always the last thing you do before you leave eachother. There’s vids of your friends daring y’all to do your elaborate ass handshake drunk and doesn’t matter what’s in your system, you both know it like the back of your hand.

I think he values quality time a lot so there’s so many nights where you’re both just chilling in his room just doing your own things. He could just be at his desk watching some game highlights and you’re just doing hw on his bed with your own earbuds in work all spread out and he’s content. He’s also attentive so if he calculates that you’ve been working too long he’ll just take ur earbud like “hey let’s go get something to eat.”

People definitely think he’s the lazy one in the relationship but it’s 100% not true. Like stated above, he’s very attentive and can pretty much gauge how you’re feeling in the blink of an eye. He knows when you need alone time but won’t go without reassuring you that he’s here whenever you’re ready. When you do just need him he’s there without a second thought. If you’re more touchy he’ll have your head in his lap his arm running up and down your as you tell him what’s wrong. He knows when to joke about a minor inconvenience and over the course of your relationship knows when to cut the jokes and be serious with you.

He’d never admit it but he knows your coffee order by heart (he keeps up his image my asking wtf do you get everytime. Just let him LOL). He the type to peek at what you plan on wearing and ‘accidentally’ color coordinate then pull some shit like “why are you copying me”

Y’all def shit talk together. See someone doing something completely out of pocket in public— straight to ur phones you go (pack it up shade room). To the public it just looks like you aren’t paying any attention to one another on your dates but y’all are. Just over the phone so u don’t piss off ur target 😌

Y’all are very comfy in your relationship that you just say stuff. Y’all don’t even think.

“Rin, what if i crashed us in this car rn 😹”

“Do it. Might be fun”

When you two finally move in together it’s almost like how your relationship starts. Slowly more and more spares of stuff for you end up at his. He does sorta make the move near the end of your lease and is just like “you’re here more than me anyways.” (hes nervous but swears he’s not. Bby you’re literally shaking). Him moving you in is like hell. This mf takes sooooo long to help with boxes. Picks up 1 then sits for like 15 minutes. You ask for help the first few times and he’s just like “I got you” while continuing to scroll his phone.

Sleepy Shoulder kisses in the mornings. Only form a greeting you get but it’s ok

this is like my 100th dating suna hc and im still going this is SICK. it was so hard to not drop old refs bc i still believe in them 100% yes i do!!!!

[rat-bastard-fics]

Paul Lahote X Reader - Mine.

A/N: I haven’t written anything for a few years so please have mercy on me.

Warning: Possessiveness, PG-13 Smut, Jealousy

Description: Y/n is at the bar with Paul and after failing to get him to agree to go home, she flirts with someone else to spark his jealousy.

Word count: ~1800

Paul hadn’t had a night off in months—between work, patrols, and basic human needs, his schedule was almost constantly booked.  It was this exact reason that caused y/n to feel so guilty about wanting alone time with him.  While it was true that she constantly missed him with him being so busy, it was also true that he missed being a normal human who had spare time and could sit at the bar with a friend.  Paul and Jared had been in the pack longer than any other member—barring Sam, of course—but despite this they still rarely had a moment away from the others. The bar was loud, and they’d already been there for almost two hours.  For a homebody like y/n, it was a bit much. Feeling anxious about physically stepping into the avid conversation between Paul and Jared, y/n grabbed out her phone and decided to text Paul instead.  She felt stupid for it, but there wasn’t much that wouldn’t make her feel anxious.

Feeling anxious, could we head home soon?

She peered down the bar to watch Paul peek at his phone before setting it back down.  This was out of character for him, so y/n figured his conversation must have been one he was more invested in than normal.  She bounced her leg nervously, sipping on her water.  She gave the boys another 10 minutes—which felt like an hour—before sending another text.

Please?

Paul looked at his phone again, then looked over at his imprint waiting impatiently down the bar. He could see her nerves and nodded, responding swiftly.

I’ll finish this drink and we’ll go

y/n read the message and nodded, about to respond with an affirmative when another text came in.

Unless you really need to go now, are you okay?

To anyone else, it may not have read much, but to y/n she knew Paul really would leave without hesitation and without being upset had she pressed further.  She shot him a smile and a thumbs up and he nodded, getting the message.  While he finished his drink, y/n decided that then would be a good time to use the restroom before they hit the road.  She was sober but she’d drank quite a bit of water and, despite how grossed out using public bathrooms made her, it was the safest choice.  After commencing her business and washing her hands, y/n returned to the busy bar area where she noticed Paul taking the first sip of a new drink.  While this didn’t mean much for him—the wolves burned alcohol off at an impressive rate—it did mean waiting to leave.  Paul had probably just forgotten and, not seeing y/n where she’d been before, didn’t think twice before agreeing to one more drink with his good friend but the left y/n feeling particularly perturbed.  

As a rationally thinking mature person, y/n settled in to taking action.  Her blood was steaming, past anxiety was effectively out the window, and she quickly chose her target.  Spotting a man waiting to buy a girl a drink wasn’t difficult in such a testosterone packed bar an y/n had found her perfect match.  An innocent enough looking guy sitting well within Paul’s view.  He wasn’t too non-threatening that Paul wouldn’t notice but he also wasn’t too unsettling to make y/n nervous to approach him.

“Hi,” y/n leaned on the bar next to him and made the conscious decision—that she knew she would feel embarrassed about at any other moment—to, for lack of a better term, use her assets.  She pressed her body against the counter top in a way that shelved her boobs up just a titch higher than normal allowing her rarely seen cleavage to peak out of her casual v-neck.  The man clearly noticed as his eyes were set looking lower than her chin.

“Heeeeello, how are you doing tonight?” His greeting was drawn out in a way that gave off the vibe of him having been a douchey business-major frat guy in some former year. He wore a long-sleeved shirt that formed snug to his arms and had a slight stubble.  He seemed to be the type of man who may be a regular.

“I’m alright,” y/n bit her lip and twirled her hair idly, she could feel Paul’s attention, his eyes burning holes into her back and she could imagine his muscles tensing.  As cruel as she knew it was, y/n knew she wouldn’t have to play this game much longer, “I think I could use a drink though.”

The man jumped on the offer, immediately ordering a shot for y/n without bothering to ask what she might like.  Whiskey.  It burned y/n’s through but in a way that added to her twisted excitement.  The man began talking about something that y/n didn’t care about but she chose a moment to laugh and rest her hand in his bicep. And here it was: the final bate.  The man wasted no time in proceeding to rest his hand on y/n’s lower back and immediately a bar stool could be heard scraping on the cheap linoleum floor. She could hear his breath and feel his warmth before he got close enough to say anything.  ‘This poor man,’ for a split second y/n felt bad for the schmuck she’d chosen to smother in her game and quickly turned to her boyfriend before he had the chance to raise his fist.  It happened quickly.

Paul approached.  Y/n turned.  The man had fear in his eye that y/n barely caught as she spun and placed her hand flat on the seething shifter’s chest.  Paul looked down at her and the danger in his eye was no longer one of malice but rather one of intoxicating jealousy and possession, he dragged a tongue across his lower lip.  

“Paul,” y/n said his name low and that was all it took. He wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her from the masculine prop and swiftly walked her to the door.  He gave a fleeting wave to his buddy that the two lovers effectively abandoned at the bar.

“What were you doing?” Paul almost hissed between his teeth as they left the bar.  It was cruel, and she knew that, but maybe y/n was a glutton for punishment. She was aroused by his reaction.

“I wanted to go.” She looked at Paul innocently as they made it to his car, as his eyes locked with hers she could see him run his tongue across his upper teeth and let out a tsking sound.

“You,” he approached her, pinning her between him and the hood of his car with a hand on either side of her body.  He leaned over her slowly, “are going to be the death of me.” He cracked a short smile, one that was smug and cocky and, dare she admit it, sexy.  His eyed flickered, leaving hers for only a moment to gaze down at her lips.  It was almost shameful how turned on she was at the sight of him.

“Oh?” It was breathy and all she could let out but it caused Paul to, at her dismay, chuckle and separate from her.  He went to the driver’s side door and she just watched him, standing there, yearning for his warmth.  He opened his door and looked at her.

“Well?” She was confused and it showed, her brain still calibrating what was happening.  She’d wanted so badly for him to do as he pleased with her that it was taking her a moment to catch up, “do you want to go home or not?” She bit her lip and shook her head, laughing as she went to her door and climbed in.  One door closed and then the other, Paul started the engine but didn’t go.

“Well?” Y/n allowed another moment of confusion at her suddenly seemingly indecisive boyfriend.  He sat there, looking at his keys, he hadn’t taken his hand away since he turned them.

“Fuck it.” He swiftly twisted his wrist, shutting the car back off before turning to y/n and grabbing the nape of her neck, passionately pressing his lips against hers. She reacted automatically.  Kissing Paul was like riding a bike, except not at all because there were no pedals and there were no wheels and instead of sitting on a bicycle there’s a longing to have a hot, and ideally horny, wolf of a man between your legs.  Y/n reached to unbuckle, forgetting that she hadn’t even gotten that far into the car ride and they both let out a gasp of a laugh, their teeth bumping.  Paul took initiative and pulled y/n from her seat, setting her on him instead, a leg on either side of him.  They were ravenous, starving for each other.  Paul slapped her ass and she jumped, moaning into the kiss and then he pulled away.  Y/n went to lean back in but a warm finger was placed over her lips instead.

“We don’t want to give Mr. Lonely a free show tonight, do we?” He was clearly as aroused as she was if the tent beneath her was any indication, but you wouldn’t be able to tell in any other way.  He was cool, collected, and composed. He gently set y/n back into her seat and turned on the engine once more as y/n tried to catch her breath. “One more thing.”  He grabbed her chin gently so she looked at him and his eyes were serious.

“Yes?” She was hoping he would change his mind again—her head was spinning this much, what’s a little more—and turn off he engine, but he seemed ready to head home.

“I love you. So fucking much.” It was almost wolfish the way he said it and he proceeded to kiss her one last brief time before putting the car in gear to drive home, “You,” He looked at her again, “are mine, doll face.”

[midnightmoonkiss]

Painful Stings & Sweet Apologies

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Rage fueled by failure, Izuku finds comfort in a bar, only to come home to a broken promise and a furious darling. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

WARNINGS!: blood, violence, alcohol (Izuku under the influence)

Category: Angst, one-sided fluff

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: This is my first yandere fic! I’m nervous as hell, I have no idea if I got this right lol. Though I did spend months perfecting it to the best of my abilities! Hope you enjoy~

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

It’s Friday

It’s cold and rainy (naturally--)

Izuku’s bedroom has a walk in closet and a bathroom

the kitchen is off-limits

THIS IS A YANDERE FIC!

Izuku is an obsessive yandere~

Cold, burning liquid rushed down the male’s throat as he gulped at the drink within the short glass.

Whiskey, or more specifically - a Jack Daniels, the honey-brown alcohol that delivered a bitter slap to all those who drank its refreshing nectar. 

It wasn’t his usual drink, and certainly not one he’d ever guzzle like a parched beast.

Hell, who in their right mind would do that? Even with a single sip, it left your chest burning with its heat.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Or, more of, self-loathing times call for a quick, one-way ticket to Forget-Me Ville and Cringe Island.

The bar he sat at was lively, filled with drunken laughter and slurred speeches of men and women who have been out for far too long.

But it was Friday night, so who cared?

A rainy, cold, sucky, depressing Friday night, one of which his friends tried to make a bit better by taking the pissed off, green-haired hero out for drinks.

They certainly hadn’t expected Izuku, an innocent little guy who couldn’t handle his liquor for shit, to shoot down an entire glass of whiskey.

At first, he ordered a simple beer - a starter drink if you will.

It didn’t take but ten minutes for him to gulp that glass down, and he was onto his next drink - a sangria wine cooler. His typical drink. He always was more of a fruity guy, after all, preferring the sweet tang over the bitter bite.

But as the night raged on, and so did his inner turmoil, he kept ordering stronger and stronger drinks, until he got to the whiskey. You could say he lost his sense of reason a while ago.

He was still seething with rage, not as much as before but the mixture of anger and frustration swirled hotly with the alcohol pumping through his veins and sitting in his belly.

You could say it was keeping him warm in this lifeless atmosphere.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t think of you, his precious little darling. He could barely think straight, mind occupied with too many thoughts to be able to understand any of them. It was all a garbled mess, one he chose to ignore.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He’d find out later.

But for now?

He needed another drink.

In the beginning, this Friday seemed like it was going to be one of the best he’ll ever have.

For months this pro hero has been working alongside detectives with catching a murderous villain known by the name “Ghoul.”

They were sick and twisted, their motives unknown, their trail hard to tract.

He had only one encounter with them, but he was too late to catch them.

That’s the day he was brought in to help aid the case.

But, that day haunted him for weeks. He knew that if he had arrived at the bloody scene sooner, he could have captured that cannibalistic fuck, brought justice to those who had already died by their mangy hands.. and prevented the deaths that would ensue after.

He’d known horrible villains before, but this one was different. Their teeth were sharp, blood permanently stained their clothes, and they gave off a wolfish vibe. Yes, a hunter. One who tore flesh from human bones and munched on it until someone screamed in terror for help.

For months he helped gather intel, piece puzzle pieces together, aid with location predictions and stakeout missions, until finally - they found that bastard.

It was more of a hunch than anything really, that Ghoul would show up to that site.

Ghoul, while hard to track, left a pattern in their wake. They avoided certain areas, thrived where the poor were at their weakest. The murders always seemed to happen at the exact same time behind run-down fast-food restaurants.

It was unclear if the sicko liked a hearty human meal with their victims own stomachs filled with greasy, fattening food, or if it was just convenient to them, either way - the perp was too damn sloppy.

To regular ol’ police personnel, the murders would just always happen there, behind restaurants.

But after Deku’s team began tracking where each and every murder occurred, it was quite easy to tell they were drawing, funnily enough, a circle around the city’s map.

It was stupid, childish, and downright idiotic, but damn if that didn’t lead the team to find the cold-blooded killer.

Adrenaline and pure hatred for the villain fueled Deku’s onslaught of attacks, each seemingly more powerful and less calculated. His mind was muddled.

He was filled with rage, finally being able to see the shitty excuse of a human again, but it affected his movements. He was being hasty, careless, not his usual calculated self.

And that’s what brought him his demise.

His shoulder was harshly bitten, razor-sharp teeth tearing through the fabric of his suit and shredding up the skin on his shoulder. Their quirk pumped through his blood instantly, making him collapse onto his knees, paralyzed. He hissed in pain as the sickeningly warm liquid flowed down his arm, unable to stop himself from face planting onto the dirty gravel of the alleyway.

He had lost, and Ghoul got away.

He still remembers it, after all, it was only hours ago that it happened.

The sun had long since set, the crescent moon hung high in the sky as her stars shimmered around her. His wound was stitched up and healed by doctors, leaving only a bitter scar to remind him of his failure.

He failed not only himself but those who counted on him.

God, he sucked.

And so, he ordered another drink.

He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to feel the failure sting at his fragile heart anymore.

It was too much to take.

What type of hero let the villain get away, knowing full well that they would kill again?

They couldn’t track Ghoul’s trail anymore, for the circle had been completed - and they were left with nothing with the numbing feeling of brutal loss.

Hours blurred together as his mind went hazy. His speech slurred together, dull, green eyes unfocused and mouth blabbering out nonsense to his friends that he couldn’t even really hear. It just- came out. 

Soon enough, he was being dragged out of the bar by his annoyingly sober friends.

The night had gotten colder since they first entered the warm bar, rain pelted down like freezing bullets flying from a machine gun. A dirty old awning kept them dry as they stood still at the front of the bars entrance, the loud music bouncing off the walls inside echoed down the empty streets.

Heavy streams of salty rainwater poured off the edge of the awning, splattering down into a mud puddle that emptied into the sewer grate below.

Who doesnt love the musty stench of rain on asphalt?

Hell, the smell itself, combined with the strong yet savory scent of the Korean barbeque joint across the street was enough to make him nauseous. He had drank far too much, and his stomach was suffering the consequences. He should have eaten more before drinking. How foolish.

 “It’s pretty late, you should head home.” Reasoned his best friend, Todoroki, puffs of condensation leaving his mouth as the warm breath met cold air, pressing a freezing hand to the back of the freckled boy's sweaty neck to jolt his drowsy, drunken self into a more alert state. Nothing but time could sober you up, but damn if that hand didn’t help slap some energy into him.

“Yeaahh, ye-yeahhh.. I gooht you Todooroe.” God, he sounded like someone high on anesthesia after being awoken from a surgery - which he definitely would be able to compare this experience to. Being a hero meant at least a few surgeries a year. Comes with the job.

Plus, this wasn’t the first time he’s been drunk.

He sure as hell hated the aftermath, but some nights it felt as if the hot burn of alcohol was the only thing that could keep him sane.

This was just one of those nights - or perhaps it was multiple nights slammed into one from just how stupidly drunk he was. The world was blurred, and Izuku doubted he could even walk straight at this point.

The half and half hero waved down a stray taxi, street water splashing up onto the sidewalk as the yellow vehicle came to a screeching halt.

“Get home safe.” Todoroki sighed out his nose at seeing his friends out-of-it state, helping the giddy and jelly-like hero into the back seat.

Izuku pouted, grabby hands clinging onto his friend's shirt in protest.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Todoroki pried himself free from his grip, handing the cab driver more than enough yen to get the drunk boy home.

He gave the taxi driver an address, and soon the car was rolling off down the street, Izukus flushed face pressed against the cold, fogging glass and staring with eyes full of tears at his friend.

Though, it seemed as if he had forgotten a promise he made to someone very important to him. Someone who he devoted his entire life to.

Someone who he risked everything for.

You.

His princess who had been locked in a small, dark room all day, wrists tightly cuffed to loose chains on the wall. The only light provided was a rusty oil lamp Izuku had gotten at a yard sale one day. The flame was dull, and left the room covered in shadows.

The tile below was as cold as it had been since the morning when Izuku had forcefully chained you there for misbehaving the night before.

You had deserved this punishment for disobeying him.

That’s what he tried to convince, anyway.

He was only trying to keep you safe! He hated punishing you, hated the way you thrashed and screamed at him in protest - that only meant he had to be rougher with you. You had broken into the most dangerous room in the apartment, afterall.

The kitchen.

There were far too many harmful objects in there!

Knives that could slice your delicate skin to shreds, forks that could jab into your body, hot stoves that could leave you with a nasty burn, and canned food stored too high up on the shelf that could fall and hit your head.. It was for your protection that the kitchen was off-limits to you!

Plus, Izuku, your oh-so kind and sweet boyfriend, had no problem with cooking you meals to eat together. In fact, he loved it!

He felt accomplished whenever you'd hum in approval at his cooking, or even turned on if that slutty mouth of yours just so happened to moan around your utensil. 

Those were the nights dinner was forgotten.

But you had been foolish, entering the kitchen for a midnight snack whilst Izuku was out on patrol. Your sneaky little self thought you were clever, leaving no trace of your betrayal.

Until you were awoken hours later by a green glow, blood running cold as a pair of murderous neon eyes stared into yours.

It had to be one of the scariest sights to date.

His pupils were shrunk, green electricity buzzing around his large body. He hovered over your trembling body, a wrapper in between his two gloved fingers.

He was so close, your noses brushed together.

You swore he could see into your soul, as well as see the fear in your (E/C) eyes.

“What is this, (Y/N)?” He had asked innocently, hurt coating his words.

“I-” you wanted to make an excuse, protest, say it wasn’t yours, but every single letter died on your tongue as his face pressed closer, a sadistic smile overtaking his features.

“You didn’t.. You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

His hot, minty breath blew all over your face as he spoke, and you shriveled back in fear as insanity crossed his expression in that way you were far too familiar with.

The giggles bubbled in his throat as he tried to fight logic with delusion, “It wasn’t you, right? Someone broke in, didn’t they? You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?”

His voice was cracking, fingers digging into the flesh of the bed beneath you as his eye began to twitch.

He stared down at you, curly green hair brushing against the sides of your face, waiting far too long for an answer he would never get. His bottom lip wobbled, feat tears welling up in his eyes and falling onto your pale cheeks as his body shook with anger and sadness.

He was already stressed about the following mornings mission, and to come home to his princess betraying his trust was not something he enjoyed.

And so, you were punished.

But he had promised you wouldnt be locked in there for long, he knew how you feared the dark. He had conditioned you to fear it, after all. It was his greatest accomplishment.

You were always so willing to cuddle into him when the lights were off.

A few hours turned into nearly an entire day, the only indication you had of this was past experiences, skin around your wrists rubbed raw from the metal cuffs, and the unusual sting of your ass and bare legs burning from the freezing tile beneath you.

That was the least of your worries, though.

Worst of all - the flame, which was holding you together and keeping you from crying out for help to those who might hear you in this soundproof room, which would no doubt get you a harsher punishment, was about to die out.

That flame, albeit small, was your only hope of surviving this.

Izuku was typically a very reliable person, it was strange for him to not keep his word to you. He devoted his being to you, worshipped the ground you regrettably walked upon, why would he break his own promise?

The thought of being trapped in the dark, the echo of your chains taunting your delirious mind had you close to tears. You didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

You watched in horror as the flame got smaller and smaller, tears now rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded under your breath for it to last longer.

The air vents around you provided enough oxygen for it to survive, but that damn oil..

Where was he?! 

Suddenly, the door to his apartment flew open, giggles seeping through the house and teasing your ears.

Then, there was no more light.

A screech tore from your throat, a desperate call of his name as you thrashed around, tears pouring from your eyes.

You felt as if you couldnt breathe as your head whipped around the space, desperate for more air and light as your lungs seemed to scream.

You couldnt feel the cold chill of the floor anymore, body numb as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

What was in the dark?

How big was this space again?

Rather, how small was it?

What was that noise?

Did something just touch you?

There was wind, there was wind, no. A cold chill?

Oh god what was that-

Loud, clumsy footsteps made their way closer and closer to the locked metal door. You sobbed as your heard the jingle of keys, metal scraping against metal as he fumbled with inserting them into the lock.

Until finally, you were basked in the honey-dew glow of the bedroom.

You fought to control your breathing as he dropped to his knees, taking far too long for your liking to get the cuffs off.

But at least now you know why he took so god damn long.

You could smell the putrid miasma of alcohol wafting off him the moment he stepped into the darkroom, tainted with the salty effluvium of rainwater as it dripped onto your skin from his damp, messy hair.

Rage bubbled inside you as he giggled once more at your tear-stained cheeks, “D-did yoou miss mee?” He slurred, a giddy smile on his face as the stale stench of what he had been drinking all night circled around your head like a rotten wreath.

Instead of answering, like you knew you should have, you turned your head towards the door, soaking in the light you were previously deprived of. Even if it was just a mere minute.

At your silence, his smile quickly turned into a frown. Big, forestry green eyes welled up with sadness, bottom lip trembling, “(Y-Y/N)?” He couldnt help but reach out, scarred fingers wishing to wipe away those stray tears from your face.

You missed him.

That’s why you were crying, surely.

He wanted to comfort you, say that he was there now and that you could both cuddle until twinkling dawn.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was all you needed, and he was right beside you.

He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for him.

Because you love each other.

“D-Don’t cry-”

His cold hand was smacked away, and his usually sturdy body was shoved back so that you could scramble out of the freezing closet.

You needed space.

More room to breath.

To be on flooring that didnt feel like ice cutting into your flesh.

Hell, you were sure the skin that had the unholy misfortune of touching the floor were burned red at this point from how long you had to sit there.

Not to mention your poor wrists, you couldnt even bear the sight of them being so raw. You were pretty sure they would bleed if you even touched them. Your body was screaming in pain, stomach growing for food, mouth parched from not being given water so that you wouldnt make a mess on the floor.

You were weak, shaking, and afraid.

That bastard had the gall to say not to cry, to look concerned when he knew damn well how much you absolutely despised the dark.

At first it was a childish fear, but the moment he snatched you from your regular life, that fear became a reality. There were countless nights you’d be punished by being left alone in the dark.

He didnt want to hurt you, no, and he never has, but damn if he hasnt conditioned you to be afraid. 

Storms were the worst.

What was once a peaceful white noise turned into a terrifying nightmare once the moon rose in the sky.

There were times you were locked in that closet during violent storms, screaming and begging to be let out.

Sometimes you were, other times you werent as lucky.

Though it was only raining right now, each pitter-patter of the droplets against the window or balcony made hairs on your neck stand up. The sound was previously muted in the closet, but now it was hitting you like a freight train on a track that never seemed to end.

You heard him scramble to his feet as you wiped your tears away, the creak of the floorboards as he stumbled towards you.

A subtle bang made you jump, his foot no doubt hitting the chest at the end of your bed. Everso the clumsy one, even in an illuminated room.

Suddenly, he was right behind you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as his head dropped to your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against your neck.

Perhaps it would have been pleasant, comforting, even, if he wasnt soaked to the bone. The cold water from his dark grey, long-sleeved sweater was now seeping into your own thin clothes, freezing wet hair sending shivers down your spine and it presses against your heated, sensitive skin. Some drops even went down your back, ripping a gasp from you.

This wasnt comforting at all.

This was suffocating.

You squirmed in his grasp, desperate to get the hell away from him.

You were already pissed, and him wrapping around you and squeezing you tight like a snake to its prey was the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae.

With a grunt, you used the rest of what little strength you had left to rip yourself free from his ‘hug,’ nearly tripping on your own two feet as you rushed away from him.

He pouted at you as you shoved yourself into a corner of the room, finding comfort in being able to see all around you, no surprise attacks from behind, only what was in front of you.

Your breath was heavy as you glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

Truly, you had some nerve.

But it was hard to help it.

He broke a promise.

He never does that, and yet in your time of need- he wasn’t there for you.

For once.

He knew damn well you were locked up, scared shitless, expecting him to return home in a few short hours, yet here he is - looking absolutely clueless as to why you were suddenly so angry at him.

Tears streamed down his drunkenly flushed cheeks, hurt by how you shoved him away again.

All he wanted to do was snuggle you, his body exhausted yet numbed by the alcohol still burning in his tummy.

“Where..” you started, voice low, scratchy, and dripping with venom that reached deaf ears. “Where have you been!”

Just as he was about to open that mouth of his, no doubt about babble nearly incoherently - form logical excuses with evidence to back him up, say he lost track of time which you know damn well he never did, you shut him up.

You hated dealing with him when he was drunk, hell - you hated dealing with his obsessive ass most days.

But drunk? Drunk he got worse. He was clingy, more emotional, and worst of all? He didn’t have a filter.

He always managed to hide those more sinister desires under that sweet mask of his - until alcohol brought it out.

God, the smell of it made you sick to your stomach, but luckily you didn't have any food to throw up.

No thanks to him.

“What the fuck, Midoriya?!” You leered at him, noticing quickly the way his eyes darkened in that way they always did when you referred to him by his family name - the name he hated being called by you of all people.

“I’ve been trapped in that room all goddamn day! You said it’d be a few hours? What the hell happened to that! Look at the fucking time! Nine hours! Nine hours I’ve been stuck in my own personal hell! I can’t feel my fucking legs because of you!”

“I-” he attempted to start, the firm grip he had on his sanity quickly loosening with every shout you threw at him.

You cut him off, again, pent up rage now overtaking your sense of reason and fear, “What the hell happened?! You know what! I don’t even care! Not only did you,” You pointed a trembling finger at his stilled body, “break a promise! Something you swore you would never fucking do, you also had the nerve at laugh at me as I was trembling in fear!”

You looked like a mess, body shaking and bent over itself, one arm clutched around your waist as if to hold yourself together as that accusing finger stayed trained on him. Your hair was messy, frizzy, soaked with sweat and oily as hell from being denied a shower. Your clothes, thin and girly - much to your utter distaste, but to his satisfaction - now damp thanks to his carelessness.

All of this was because of him.

It always was.

Every single thing that went wrong in your life always seemed to be because of him nowadays.

You couldnt believe you let yourself fall for that misleading smile all those years ago, only to end up like this.

A mouse in a lions den.

But hell if that would stop you from squeaking your heart out till his razor-sharp claws ultimately caged you back in.

“Do you see my wrists?!” with a strangled sob, you held up both of your arms to show him the mess he already knew was his fault, “look at them! They hurt so fucking much because you left me in those disgusting handcuffs! This is all your fault!”

Your knees were wobbling so bad you swore your legs would give out at any second, but you’d be damned if you didnt hold your ground to this lunatic.

True, some days he was nice, normal, even. But days like these, or days much worse, you were reminded of just who he really was.

A monster was stretching it. He never intentionally tried to hurt you, your friends, or even your family.

No, he just stole you from your apartment in the dead of night, convinced the reason you were crying was because of the thunderstorm and not because some psycho snatched you from your window like some sort of 1970’s movie trope. That night he cradled your thrashing body to his hard chest with his strong arms, cooing at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you begged to be let go. You were just scared of the storm~ He would keep you safe~ He is the number one hero, afterall~

That was all utter bullshit, straight from the beginning.

And even now he was still wrapped in the delusion that you loved him as much as he loved you.

A fated pair.

Please.

But you still held on to the pathetic hope that one day he’d snap out of it, return to the Izuku you knew from the beginning and not the person who now stood a few feet in front of you, staring with cold, emotionless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he says impassively, face as blank as a new canvas - unreadable and dangerous in every way imaginable. It was hard not to feel as if he was just waiting to strike, already calculating his next moves like he always seemed to do. It was far easier to deal with an angry Izuku than one where you couldn’t read his already complex emotions, thoughts, anything. He was the definition of expressive, and it truly took a fuckin bullet to the back of his head for him to be like this.

So clearly, you hit a nerve.

Wonderful.

“Oh?” Despite knowing the implications of the situation you found yourself in, it was impossible not to laugh at such a pathetic fucking apology.

Knowing him, he probably was sorry, deep down inside. You knew he didn’t like seeing you hurt, especially if it was because of his doing, and yet- you pressed on. 

Pent up anger was a nasty thing to deal with, especially since it’s been brewing inside you for so long.

“Are you now? You don’t fucking seem sorry! If you were really sorry, you wouldnt have done it! But look where we are! You’re such a fucking-!”

“Shut up.” he growls out borderline maliciously, stumbling slightly as he turns to walk out the door. He was clearly fed up, his strong hands clenched into threatening fists, but so were you. Even if you were undeniably frightened to confront him, you wouldn't let that stop you from pushing yourself off the wall - your safe space - and wobbling after him.

“Look at you! You can’t even walk right! How drunk are you, huh? Washing away your feelings again, are you? What about my feelings! Huh?!”

You were pushing it.

You really were.

The entire house felt it, the air chillingly still as Izuku had to grind his teeth together so as to not lash out at you. 

He didn’t want to.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but all that stress and self-hatred previously washed away was coming back up to the burning surface that cages his discretion.

Heavy breaths blew out his nostrils as he made his way to the living room, desperate for you to get the hint from his hunched over body that he wanted you to fuck off.

Yeah, he messed up, deep down he knew he did but currently his mind was far too clogged to even begin to comprehend it.

You were like an annoying mosquito, your words morphing into a persistent buzz.

He was ignoring you, and that made you livid.

He always ignored you when your problems were deemed irrelevant, or when he found you were being far too vexatious.

He always did this, always.

You were trapped in a cell with some asshole who didn't even want to listen to you.

Obviously, you had enough.

Typically you’d back off, go fume in another room or punch the wall till the skin around your knuckles tore open and dripped blood everywhere, making him snap out of whatever state he was in just to suffocate you in his toxic love.

Oh how life proved to be full of surprises.

A low growl of your own slithered passed your teeth, eyes practically burning red as if you prayed you had a quirk that could do something against him.

“You’re a selfish bastard! You fucking piss-poor excuse of a hero-!”

SLAP!

A shrill scream tore from your raw throat, the echo of skin burning against skin dizzying you as you were thrown back onto the floor.

Boiling hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed out of pure fear, body shaking uncontrollably and you shuffled backward, desperate to get yourself as far away from him as you could currently manage.

It had all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to register it as it occurred.

One moment his hands were gripping the back of the couch with such strength you could see his knuckles turn a ghostly white, and the next, crackling, neon-green lightning surrounded his body, illuminating the dim apartment in a slimy glow. Before you even had a chance to register just what happened, he whipped his head around, his eyes, typically blown wide with sickening love and sparkling under delusional illusions, were narrowed and glowing in a way that sent shivers of immense regret down your spine. His arm whipped back with his hand, the very hand that delivered a painfully paralyzing slap.

He always spoke with his hands, and you just happened to be too close to him at that moment.

The reddended skin of your cheek burned, and you swore you could feel more than just tears streaming down it.

You were stuck shaking on the floor, imaginary bile rising in your throat, and all you could do was stare at him with wide, bloodshot and terrified eyes.

He had never laid a hand on you like that before, you didnt know what to think.

He always promised to do you no intentional harm, to never lay a finger on you with intentions of making you cry out in pain.

He had never acted so feral and out of line before.

It.. it scared you in a way you never felt before.

The gap between you grew, you really were just a mouse trembling in a lion's den.

“P-princess-” he shakily called out, voice weak and uneven, quirk diminishing into thin air like it never was there in the first place.

His own eyes were wide and filled with immense regret, tears already pouring down his flushed, freckled face.

He took one step forward, and you scrambled back, hand coming up to touch at your cheek, shock making you feel faint at the sight of blood coating your trembling fingertips.

You felt sick once again, empty stomach feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself to push even the tiniest bit of nonexistent food out.

You didnt know what to do.

Choking on your own sobs, you tried desperately to shuffle away from him, but he only came closer.

You cried out the moment he dove at you, your hands clasped together tightening against your chest as if to hold yourself together as this bear of a man wraps his arms cold, soaked arms protectively around you, his large shoulders violently shaking as he buried his snotty, tear stained face deep into your unruly tresses.

The stench of alcohol burned your nostrils, edging you on to try and push his heavy chest away. You tried, but you failed miserably, resulting in his arms pulling you even closer to his sweaty and damp body. It was disgusting.

“L-let go of me!” you wailed, your own tears stinging your eyes as your vision blurred and you could no longer tell just what you were staring blindly at, the dimness of the living-room paired with the suffocating embrace of your captor swallowing you whole.

You couldnt take it.

You could barely breathe at this point.

“p-p-ple .. plea-s-se..!” your cries intertwined with his own desperate ones as he babbled nearly incoherently on about how sorry he was, how he never meant to do something so horrible.

“I’m not a monster!” he howled out, desperate words seeping with ululation.

He was desperately trying to convince himself of that.

He wasn’t talking to you at all.

He was talking to himself.

He wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t a monster.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like that piece of filth.

No, he’s so much better.

He’s a good man.

No, no, he’s not a monster.

He’s your hero.

He could never purposely harm you.

No.

It was an accident.

An accident.

You’d understand.

He knew you would!

You always understood him.

You were like two peas in a pod!

You forgave him, surely.

Yes.

Yes!

You did the moment he hugged you, the moment he started comforting you.

He was a good man.

How could you not forgive him?

He loved you so, so, so much.

You knew that-

You knew he would never do such a thing.

His breathing was even, eyes wide and straining as he stared at the floor, a crooked smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over again in his twisted mind.

He never met to hurt you.

No.

He didnt.

“Plea-” you tried once more, biting your wobbling lip as he squeezed you even tighter.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” he heaved out, hand coming up to gently pet your oily hair as if to calm you. His head shook back and forth in your hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry, honey.”

There was nothing you could do.

You were stuck alone in a mouse trap, the cold, metallic bar snapped down on top of your frail neck.

There was no escape.

There never was.

His form of ‘love’ far too strong for you to even attempt to.

And so, you gave up. 

Just like you always did.

There was no point in resisting him.

Sticky blood trickles down your raw cheek, dripping down onto the chilled bare skin of his neck, still cold from the damp clothes he wore, instantly catching his wondering attention.

“You.. you’re bleeding?” he whispered guiltily, already feeling a new wave of salty tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

His large left hand trailed up the skin of your neck, idly collecting the thin trail of red liquid onto his fingertips and smearing a path up to your jawline, stopping the moment your shivering form flinched.

He frowned at the red mark taking up half your beautifully innocent face, a small cut resting in the middle of it where no doubt the ring he foolishly wore as an accessory swiped.

Guilt made his stomach churn, the familiar burn of acid rising in his throat.

A deep inhale, and he swallowed it down, arm still wrapped around you, languidly rubbing your back as he stared with nothing short of pity at your wrecked state.

Your lips wobbled, holding in a reply as you force yourself to look into the vast abyss of darkness that was the hallway of your apartment instead of his orbs gleaming with concern.

Concern.

Concern for something he caused.

At least he had a heart, but you were still scared shitless and wanted nothing more than to run away. You were still fighting to regulate your breathing.

His thumb suddenly pressed against the slap mark, ripping a yelp from your throat as your head flung back to avoid any more contact. It was then that you noticed a pounding headache echoing inside your skull, yet another reason to aid in the water running down your face. Pain consumed your body, and you wanted nothing more than to escape this shell you were trapped in.

Openly chewing on his lip, both of his arms went back around you, cradling your delicate form to his chest.

Without a word, he stood up, practically forcing you to have to wrap your bare legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, something you were trained to do by him. He loved it when your legs were around his waist whenever he picked you up.

It became a regrettable second nature.

Heavy foot steps brought you back to your bedroom, and then into the bathroom connected to it.

Your fears crept up your spine at the pitch black room you were forced into, remembering how you were in a similar position just a few minutes ago.

When would this cycle end?

Ah. 

It wouldnt, would it?

You were set delicately down atop the cold marble counter as if you were a fragile piece of glass, which, in many ways, you were. The tears had at least stopped, but your body continuously shook like a chihuahua, your breathing still hard to control as fumbled around mindlessly with your fingers to serve as a distraction.

He flipped the light on, momentarily blinding your sensitive gaze with its bright light.

Sniffing, you wiped at your nose, watching as he walked about the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth just to run it under cool water. The rain was still heavily pouring just outside the wall mixed with the loud splatters of the stream against the white sink. It would have been calming had cold water not splashed up onto your bare thighs, making goosebumps prickle along your skin. Your thighs were nearly numb at this point.

After ringing most of the water out, he held it up to your cheek, staring at you.

Taking the cue, you hesitantly took the cool, wet cloth from his grasp and gingerly pressed it to the swelling skin on your face. You hiss out in pain, dry sobs wracking your body at the stinging pain and the fact that he was still far too close for you to currently handle.

The pain on your cheek paired with the numbing cold was a good distraction.

You chewed on your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, freehand gripping tightly at the hem of your shirt as you listen to him fumble around in the cabinet hanging over to the left.

You jumped the moment you felt his larger fingers ghost over the ones holding the cloth to your cheek, cautious (E/C) eyes opening ever so slightly as you looked over at him.

You couldnt help but feel idiotic as you suddenly felt flustered at the intense gaze he was giving you, eyes now gleaming viridescent in the white light of the bathroom almost staring right into your soul.

It was like he was reading you, pulling words off your own frail pages just so he could recite them to you.

He did this often.

Keeping silent, staring for long periods of times as he tried out scenarios in his head of the words he was going to say.

It gave you chills, but yet, it made you feel like you were the center of his drifting attention.

The sun his planets revolve tirelessly around, repeating the same cycles like a record forever skipping on repeat.

In these moments, though, he became an enigma.

Not exactly something your fragile state of mind entirely needed right now.

You shivered when his palm came to cup your soft jawline, thumb absentmindedly tracing over your parted lips.

His mouth opened, ready to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Mouth shutting, he leaned forward, tentatively bringing you into another hug.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, the words nearly as quiet as your stilled breath, but you had nothing to say to it. And he knew it.

He was used to you staying silent.

He would prefer it most of the time.

So he could sink into his fantasies, the deluded fantasies that you loved him wholeheartedly, that you chose to stay silent as to not hurt his feelings, and always forgave him no matter what.

That you would forever and always be his.

He wouldnt give you the choice not to be.

He wouldnt let you leave when you’re his favorite person in the whole wide world.

The only one he needed.

And he was the only one you needed.

Yes.

Of course.

You didn’t need anyone else but him.

And he didn’t need anyone else but you.

So what if a few more people died because of his mistake, he would capture Ghoul eventually. Regardless, he would always come home to you.

Always.

And that’s all he needed.

He chucked against your neck, having buried it in the crook as his mind slipped through his shaky fingertips.

The Big Bad Wolf and his Little Red Riding Hood.

God how he loved the comparison.

Perhaps he was addicted.

Addicted to you.

Even now, as he inhaled your sugary sweet, natural scent stained with the metallic smell of dried blood.

Pulling back, he gazed into your hesitant eyes, delicately resting his forehead against yours.

His hair, now dry and no longer dripping with salty rain, tickled your skin, making you involuntarily take in a deep breath.

Closing his eyes once more, he soaks in the moment of your warm body in his frigid embrace, nothing else mattered to him.

Just you.

Only you.

“L-let me see your cheek,” he asks softly, words not as wobbly as before,  afraid that if he spoke too loudly in such a thin atmosphere, everything would shatter abruptly like glass.

Your body moved on instinct as if you were used to doing as he asked immediately no matter what, pulling the cool cloth away from your burning cheek.

Resisting the urge to sniffle and flinch away, you allow him to rewet the cloth, holding still as he dabs lightly at the small wound.

“I know it hurts,” he breathes out, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” it was always so strange how his voice still managed to calm your nerves even after all you’ve been through.

Deep down, you knew he was still that loving and energetic boy you met back at that coffee shop.

If only you knew how sinister and twisted he could really be.

Perhaps.. perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a situation now.

But there was never any point in pondering the what-ifs.

All you could do was fight your mind from seeking normalities in such a relationship as this, if you could even call it that.

You wouldn’t succumb to his desires like you always did.

You wouldnt lose yourself.

No.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Or was it too late already?

You hissed when you felt the stinging seer of rubbing alcohol dotted onto your cut, cleaning the wound.

“It’s okay.” he repeats, cooing to you with a reassuring smile that should have made you feel sick all over again.

You let him apply antibiotic ointment and a small cheek bandage, his hands shaky yet careful. You could say he has experience in applying bandages.

It was uncomfortable as it sat on your raw skin, but it’s not like you were going to go and rip it off. That would feel like ripping off a wax strip on a sunburn.

Humming, he gingerly wipes away the dried blood on your neck with the same washcloth, not minding how blood-stained the innocently white fabric became. 

Next came your still aching wrists. There wasn’t much he could do for your legs, but at least he had roll-on bandages on standby.

Turning the cold tap on, he lets you run them under cool water before gently dabbing the stray droplets away, careful not to press too hard.

He really needed to invest in softer handcuffs, it’s just- those were the only ones he had, and he didn’t use them often. Besides, it never got this bad before. But that wasn’t a good excuse.

He’d have to order some online tomorrow..

Applying more ointment around the area, the kind that offers instant relief, he wraps your smaller wrists up as best he could, cringing himself whenever you’d flinch.

He’d make it up to you.. Pancakes in the morning, perhaps?

Izuku then begins to sluggishly put away everything he brought out of the cabinet, tossing what needed to be tossed into the trashcan.

He was slow, almost as if he was trying to keep his balance, which he no doubt was. 

Standing in front of you once again, he wrapped his arms around you, whispering “up” in your ear.

It was something he would always say when he wanted you to wrap your arms and legs around him so he could carry you like a baby.

But who were you to refuse?

It wasn’t as if he couldnt pick you up without your limbs wrapped around him, it was more for your comfort rather than his convenience.

So, tentatively, you wrapped your still shaking arms around his neck, doing the same with your legs around his bent waist.

“Good girl.” he praised as he began walking back into the bedroom, stopping just at your side of the bed to place you down at the edge.

Numbly, you let him remove your rain-soaked clothes from all the hugging, sitting on the bed in just your panties as you watched him toss the clothes in the hamper by the door

It wasn’t the first time he insisted on treating you like a child who needed help changing, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

It was hard to remember if it was a good or a bad thing that you didn’t care about being nude in front of him anymore, not even bothering to hide your chest as he came back over with a fresh set of clothes - the strawberry patterned pajamas he always seemed to adore you wearing.

You always looked so innocent in them. The shirt is far too large for your frame, the sleeves hanging off your hands and the large v-neck exposing your collar bones and parts of your shoulders. The bottoms were the regular run of the mill pajama pants, soft as cotton and comfy as hell.

The top truly was the part of the look that tied it all together.

He couldn’t help but smile as your arms immediately raised as he pulled the shirt out of the pile, making quick work of slipping it over your cute head and helping your arms into the sleeves.

He liked to take care of you.

You needed him to, after all.

You were his innocent, helpless little darling, after all.

Pulling your pants up, he guided your body down into a resting position, dragging the thick, grey, and black patterned comforter over your stilled body.

Such a good girl.

He tucks loose strands of messy (H/C) hair that fell across your face behind your ear, being mindful of the wound.

He stares at it for a moment, his expression holding that of worry and regret.

Pushing off the bed, he stumbles his way to the kitchen in the dark, having turned off the light as he went, the layout of the apartment burned to memory so he could easily avoid furniture.

In the kitchen, he opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, one he would commonly use on his own sore muscles and bruises. It hurt his heart knowing he was the reason you had to use it for the first time.

After wrapping it in some paper towels, he trudges his way back into the dark bedroom, eyes wracking over your balled up form, covers bunched over you like a shell.

“Put this on your cheek..” he whispered, placing the pack just in front of your face.

He would love to be the one to hold it to your cheek, but his mind was still hazy, and his words were still slurred. Events could sure as hell sober you up a bit, but damn did that nausea always come back crashing in through the brittle window full force when you’d least expect it.

Rummaging through the drawers once more, he picked up some of his own fresh clothes and made his way into the bathroom again.

All he wants is to sleep, but he also didnt want you to smell dried sweat and rain on his being throughout the night.

He knew you missed him, him and his warmth, you always did, right? No question about it. You must be longing for him even now. 

Wanting him to hold and comfort you just like always.

Numbed adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away his filth and regrets.

God, it felt so good to be able to somewhere warm for once.

The entire night he’s felt nothing but cold.

Not even the fire in his belly or the breath stolen from his lungs could’ve warmed him up.

He was mad at himself. Mad that he lost control and hurt the one thing that mattered the most to him.

Mad that he let himself get disgustingly drunk.

Mad that he walked in the rain like a dumbass just to soak your clothes and make you feel as cold as him.

But at the moment, too many thoughts were flying in his mind for him to properly think, no, he couldnt really even say he was thinking at all.

He was just letting the water splatter on the back of his neck, forehead resting on the cold shower tiles and he watched as water swirled down the drain like a whirlpool. His hair stuck to his cheeks like glue, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brush across the fresh scar on his broad shoulder.

He swore the longer he stood there, watching the clear flow of water, the looser his grip on himself became.

He couldnt really say he felt anything at all anymore.

When did he lose himself?

Was he ever even really found?

Ah.

With you.

You were the missing piece in his complicated and skull biting puzzle, the one who made him whole and lit up his dull life. You were the reason he felt things anymore, you were the reason he still managed to get up and save people with a clear conscious.

You always had such a positive impact on his life, and he knew he had just as good a one on yours.

A wobbly smile tore his flushed face in two, you both really did need eachother.

He was so happy to have you in his life.

Knowing you’d never leave him.

Turning the boiling hot water off, he stepped out, the plushness of the bath-mat embracing his wet feet as water continued to pour down his nude body.

It felt, it felt so hot suddenly.

His breath came out in exaggerated pants, hands sweeping his hair from his face as the burn of bile rose in his throat.

Lunging for the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the glistening white bowl.

Gasping for air, Izuku whipped his mouth on the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath as he fumbled to flush.

God, he needed to sit down.

Shakily turning the bathroom faucet on, he washed his hand, making quick work of brushing his teeth before lazily drying himself off.

Ignoring the other clothes he brought in, the toned hero simply pulled on a pair of black boxers before walking out of the bathroom.

Green eyes immediately looked at your form, just to see the soft rise and fall of your chest as you soundly slept, the ice pack sitting comfortably on your cheek.

You looked so adorable.

You always did.

Smiling once more, he walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets just to slide his larger, warm body in and next to your own.

He sighs blissfully the moment he tugs you into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of your soft body against him.

Removing the icepack from your cheek, not wanting you to awake to a cheek burning from the cold, he places it on the nightstand before snuggling closer to you.

You always fit so perfectly in his big arms.

You were meant to be by his side.

And you loved it, didn’t you?

Eventually, he fell asleep, soft snores echoing around the quiet room filled with the downpour of rain still pouring down outside the large glass windows,

But you were still wide awake.

It was hard to remember the last time you got a good night’s rest, especially when the room was spine-chillingly dark..

Hard to remember what life was like before you even met your own personal nightmare.

You were used to the exhaustion, the dark circles kissing at the skin under your eyes becoming normal the day you were brought here.

Oh, how foolish you were.

You should have locked your window that fateful night.

But heroes are quite stealthy, aren’t they?

Was this even reality at this point? Or all just a figment of your imagination, protecting you from the true horrors before your very eyes.

Either answer wasnt one you wanted.

But you never had a choice.

Tears slipping from your eyes like they always seemed to do, you stared longingly off into the distance, the warmth pressed against your back pulling you further into your own bubbling madness.

All it took was a signal thought for this to all become normal.

For the pain to wash away with your tears.

‘Maybe this is ok.’

[vocalyunho]

Losers

Part 2 of bad boy! Yunho, part 1 here

pairing — bad boy! Yunho x reader (fem)

genre — angst with a sprinkle of smut, fluff.

word count — 4k

warnings — explicit language, lots of kissing, (almost) handjob, talk about inner self and emotions.

synopsis — After the night of the dare, Yunho has to cope with his new -to him- self. Realizing that getting you out of his head was impossible, he decides to visit you. However, you misunderstand the reason he came to see you, but he needs to make himself clear.

A/N: first of, thank you all for appreciating the first part & sending me so nice messages! Secondly, I noticed (once again) that I can’t write angst to save my damn life, so I’m sorry again if this one’s messy or doesn’t reach your expectations. Your feedback is very much appreciated, please don’t stay silent :’)

Everything was spinning around him. The lights, even though dim, seemed too bright for him and his red eyes, the music was too loud and bothersome, the accrual smoke was choking him,  Yunho’s head was throbbing but his thoughts were clear in his mind. You. That green poison he’s been smoking and all the alcohol he’s consumed, did nothing. You’re still living, rent free, in his mind and he can’t do anything to get you out of there. The way your lips had nibbled on his neck and the way you’d looked at him, that night, when his hands were under your shirt were still in his mind. You looked so innocent, yet so confident. So helpless, yet so determined to win the game and he was just the conduit for that, nothing more.

Yunho walked slowly towards Hongjoong’s crowded living room and flopped on the couch clumsily. His legs spread in an attempt to feel his body and his hands rested on each side of his body as he swallowed a few times with effort. The aforementioned man has been gone for a while now. Last time he saw Hongjoong, was when a girl was dragging him into his bedroom, both probably too drunk and ready to relieve all the accumulated sexual tension built through drinking and dancing on each other. His eyes couldn’t stay open anymore, he let them fall shut as his head rested on the back of the couch. He needed some quiet for once, maybe he should leave but only after he feels ready to walk to his own apartment. He knew this would happen and he was wise enough not to ride his motorcycle that night. Every time he’s in Hongjoong’s, he always ends up like this, high and fucked up, but not like tonight. Tonight, he went beyond his limits, he was determined to get you out of his mind but all he succeeded in, was thinking of you more.

He almost felt peaceful for a bit until he felt someone straddling him and as he opened his eyes, a girl with too revealing clothes was sitting on his lap, already grinding on his crotch. He gasped at the sudden pressure on his cock and looked at her with heavy eyes “how about we go to the bathroom and you fuck me on the countertop, like this one time, remember?”, she whispered snuggling against his neck “I want those inked arms around my throat so bad”, she moaned but he couldn’t even remember who she was, let alone the fact that he was inside her in the recent past. In any other situation, he’d already be on his feet and up for some fun but now he only turned his head the other way, “I need to leave”.

“oh c’mon”, she tried to hug him but he was fast to break free from her embrace “I said I need to leave”, he moved her on the seat next to him and stood up, heading for the door.

“dude, are you leaving already?”, Wooyoung shouted from the other side of the apartment but Yunho only wore his leather jacket and moved his two fingers, gesturing goodbye to him.

Once he was home, the bed seemed more captivating than a hot shower. His legs couldn’t keep him up longer, after all. Everything was still spinning, except now he’s in the safety of his own home and random girls aren’t coming up to him asking for sex in bathrooms. He fell asleep in a matter of seconds and, maybe, these little hours he slept where the only ones you weren’t wandering around his mind, in the conscious part, at least.

-------------------------------------------

Waking up early everyday to study isn’t the easiest thing, especially when you work late every night. If you wanna keep your health you’ll have to quit that job, but for now you need the money it offers.

Lately all your days are either spent in the library or in a cafe, studying for the upcoming exams and the nights...they’re always spent in the bar, moving around filled glasses and taking them back empty. And that’s exactly what’s happening now and you still have an hour to go till you can get back to the warmth of your sweet home. 

Bars are...lovely. Well, not your favourite places to be, but considering that most youths spend their time in clubs, bars are much more preferred. The music is low enough to share a good conversation with someone, but still loud enough to enjoy the melodies themselves. The decoration is much more genteel than clubs and cafes, the clients more kind and free to come in dressed in anything they find pretty or comfortable. The vibes are more chill, collected, nonchalant, if you will, and there’s a balance in everything that’s hard to find in other places. 

You’ve been moving around beautifully decorated cocktails all night and if it wasn’t for the -not so high- heels you’ve been wearing, you’d be enjoying doing so. You can feel your heels and ankles starting to burn but there’s only an hour left, you can do it. 

Once you were back to take the newly made drinks from the bartender, the door of the bar opened fast and a male entered. Usually, you know who enters. The bar is small and by far not one of the famous ones in the city, so the clients are pretty much the same and especially on weekends. But this one…no, you didn’t know him. He wore black jeans and a black leather jacket with a white t-shirt underneath. You noticed the brown timberland shoes, not many people around you wear those, and his features…you couldn’t identify them due to the sunglasses he was wearing and his head that hang low. This man really entered a bar which already had dim lighting, at 2AM, with sunglasses on. Your eyebrows furrowed and the bartender gestured for you to take his order once he was sat. A helmet hang from the man’s right hand and moving slowly, he found a table on the very back of the place to sit. It felt like you were in a movie, where a stranger enters a pub, and everyone stares at him until he takes a gun out and starts shooting.

You moved to his table with your mind still on how your feet hurt and spoke politely “hello, what can I get for you?”

“you”

“excuse me?”

He raised his head and your insides felt like they twisted…not in the bad way, actually exactly the opposite. Yunho stared at you, you assumed, but after he took the sunglasses off you were sure he did. But he wasn’t the same. Even with the dim lighting of the place you could see how his eyes were red, he must’ve been (crying) smoking something. It wouldn’t be beyond belief, if he did.

“I wanna talk to you”, he spoke with a deep voice and it reminded you of his voice the night of the dare.

“I’m sorry, I’m working. Now what can I get for you?”

“when’s your shift over? I’ll wait”, he spoke fast as he rested his elbows on the table, moving his upper body forward. His body language proved tension spreading in his system and his voice sounded desperate, but you couldn’t figure out why.

“what can I get for you?”

“please”

“is a whiskey fine?”

“it’s important”

“is a whiskey fine?”

“…yeah”

He stayed there, drinking and following you with his gaze. Truth is, there was nothing for you to talk about, even if you really wanted to, too. The only real interaction you had was that night and you had made it clear to him that it should be forgotten and especially not be told to anyone. Yet there he was now, wanting to talk to you and God knows how he found out you worked there.

When it striked 3AM, you headed for the ‘employees’ only’ room to change the uncomfortable outfit and the even more uncomfortable shoes. Your mind was still on Yunho though who was out there waiting for you and a million questions flooded your mind. How did he find out about the bar you’re working for? What is the important thing he wants to talk to you about? Will he follow you to your apartment? And what- “hey”, you flinched at the sudden voice and turned your head fast only to see him right in the entrance.

“you’re not allowed to be in here”, you said calmly as you tied your second shoelace.

“I need to talk to you”

“we have nothing to say, now please leave. Only employees can enter here”, you stood up, heading for your locker to take your forest green jacket as he remained silent. You wore it fast and took your backpack, ready to leave but once you turned around he was there, right behind you with his head bent forward to reach your eye level.

“fuck, you scared me”, your back hit the locker and your hand reached for your chest where your heart beat faster at the abrupt presence.

“I felt something”

“I told you to leave, I’ll call the manager”

“I’ve never felt anything before…for anyone”

“YUNHO, LEAVE”

“you still remember my name”, he smiled and let his eyes fall on your lips and you really thought he must be high on something.

An awkward silence filled the room and his words got replayed in your head “ask that one more time and I’ll make sure you never forget it again”. He had achieved it…you couldn’t forget his name ever again. You couldn’t forget anything that happened that night ever again.

You looked anywhere but at him until he grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger and forced your head up to look in his eyes. The inked thumb played with your bottom lip, lightly pulling it down to expose your bottom teeth as his eyes remained glued on yours. You fought the urge to suck on it, but your knees weakened just at the thought. He looked good, like a god in your eyes.

“You made me like this”, he pointed at himself.

“like what?”

“look at me, I’m a wreck!”

“I did nothing!”

“I can’t get you out of my fucking head! I keep trying and trying but-!”

“Yunho, please leave”, you pressed your eyebrows together, raising them at the same time. If he continued you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your thoughts locked inside your mind for long.

“You’re ruining me!”

He widened his eyes and his voice got higher at that, like he just realized. If only he knew he was ruining you, too…but you thought he was ruining you in a completely different way. You had succeeded in winning the dare, but not in what he had warned you about. Not one day had passed without thinking of him and you were so mad at yourself for that, yet you couldn’t stop it. And every time you’d randomly see him on campus, your mind would go back to the dare and how he held you and how he had stopped his hands from moving when he realized you weren’t comfortable and how you so wanted to know him more than that, to know the real him. You were falling for him but, of course, you wouldn’t accept it. It’s not logical, you can’t fall for someone you don’t know. However, it all felt familiar. It felt like you were, again, reading one of those -way too corny- romantic novels in which the girl fell for the bad guy. They always ended with the guy taking the one thing he wanted and the girl having a broken heart and right now…you feel like you are the protagonist in one of those novels and he…he’s only there to take that one thing he always wants (however, me as the omniscient writer, I can guarantee you he meant you were ruining him the same way he ruined you).

“fuck, I need you”, he crashed his lips on yours fast, still holding your chin and now his other hand found your waist and held on it tightly but still loosely enough for you to break free if you wanted, but you didn’t. Your eyes fluttered close and you gave in, in an instant. How could you not? All you’ve been thinking about is him, but you knew it wasn’t right. He is Yunho, he’s a player, he’s nothing like you, he’s not for you. But the sweetness of the awry is too captivating not to give in. Your lips moved against his in an open mouthed kiss, your tongues danced together and your saliva got mixed with his, until he groaned and broke the kiss in need of air. You rested your head against the locker and looked up at him, his head hang low again…

“don’t you have anything to say?”, he spoke softly and you realized it was the first time you ever heard him talk like that, without anger or sarcasm in his voice.

“what do you expect me to say?”, you were too stuck to your mindset to notice the little things “that I’m glad you can’t forget how well you fucked me or to thank you for coming back for a second round?”, it hurt to say these. But Yunho was always a player, he always slept with girls and never spoke to them again and you obviously were one of them now.

“what? No”

“then what?”

“don’t you understand?” his eyebrows furrowed as he took a step back to take all your features in “I’ve never felt anything like this before. It was all about sex to me…always! I only cared about that. I only wanted my needs to be taken care of but that night…of the dare, I felt things for you and I got so fucking scared…that wasn’t me!”, a vein on his forehead was visible “I’ve warned all the girls I’ve ever been with not to catch feelings for me because I won’t be there for them. I’m not the type to get in relationships because attachment, that shit scares me! Yet, after we…did it, it hurt me to think I was only your way to win a game, a fucking game!”

“maybe it was your turn to feel how the girls you’re playing with, really feel”

That hurt.

He stayed silent for a bit. His mind was hazy and he couldn’t lie to himself, he had thought that this was the revenge that had been waiting for him.

“I’m a fucking asshole and I deserved it and maybe…this was a lesson for me but-” his expression proved pain “I can’t stop thinking about you and I hate myself for that…”

“…because I wanted to be more than just a dare to you…”

Your heart felt like it’d fly out of your chest and your breath got caught in your throat.

  “…but I know I can’t change your mind about me, goddamnit!”

His fist hit the locker next to you, before turning around to walk in the room. Your heart clenched, realizing the meaning of his words. You weren’t the only one feeling differently. His head looked towards the ceiling and the new silence that filled the place gave you the chance to think and, maybe, now you know why his eyes have been red and it’s not from smoking something.

He’s hurting…and it’s the first time he’s feeling something like this, this type of pain.

He is finding himself, the self that’s been hiding under the tough, bad guy image he’s exposing to everyone. He needed this pain to finally see inside him and find the real him.

But he was wrong about one thing. You never had a complete opinion about him, therefore there was nothing for him there to change. There was only empty space where he could build the image about him in your head, and you wanted him to do that. You wanted him to put the foundations of his real image.

“Yunho”

“I’ve never let myself get attached to anyone but I only now realized that it’s uncontrollable. All this time I wasn’t controlling who I’ll get attached to and who not, it just didn’t happen…until I met you”. He, finally, turned to face you again.

He walked close to you again “and I know this will make me sound like a loser and, maybe, I am but…I think I’m falling for you”.

Your heart skipped a couple of beats, you’re sure about that, but his eyes were the most genuine ones you’ve seen in a while “Yunho-”

He shushed you by inhaling, ready to speak again but you were fast to prevent him “no, Yunho let me talk”, his eyes seemed sad but you got a hold of his hands that hang on each side of his body, to bring his attention back on you.

“I think I’m falling for you too”

You said fast and his breath got caught in his throat. Of course he didn’t expect to hear that. Your mind was going crazy at the moment with all the things you wanted to say but decided to only speak the important ones.

“…but I don’t think it’s right. You’ve been playing with girls all your life Yunho, maybe it’s in your nature, I don’t know…”

“but I can’t lie, I can’t stop thinking about you either…”, your eyes flickered between his.

You wanted him and he wanted you, it was obvious by both parties by now. You were willing to help him discover his real self and you were especially willing to let yourself fall in love but you were too inexperienced too to bear the pain it could cause you, if it didn’t work out.

“…I felt things too you know but you don’t know, even a little, how love feels and I can’t just be your lab rat, just one more experience for you. I can’t let myself fall deep and then have my heart shattered, I can’t take it!”, your eyebrows raised sympathetically and tears threatened to wet your cheeks.

“I know how it is to feel loved and now…I think I’m ready to be the one who loves, I’m ready to learn and-”

“I’m scared, Yunho”, your eyes met the marbled floor between your bodies.

“I’m scared too”

Both of you weren’t the most experienced people when it came to love and, especially, Yunho. But you wanted to try and learn and, even, fall for each other and Yunho didn’t want to give up on the first strong feelings he’s ever had. This meant something.

“but we can…”

“…discover ourselves together…just give me a chance-”, he held your hands in his. His eyes were glistening, like a million pieces of hope were in them.

“I don’t know, Yunho”

“let me make this work out and, maybe, if everything turns out well…I can call you mine”

Those tears that had been threating to fall, did wet your cheeks now as you looked at him again. No one had ever told you something like this before and you never thought you’d hear it for the first time from him. Yunho isn’t the guy everyone thought he was, he is much more than that. Maybe, he’s the meaning behind the saying: don’t judge a book by its cover. Yunho had never let his real emotions take over him and even if those emotions tried, he had his self locked up. It’s like his hidden self couldn’t take it anymore and when he met you the real him broke free from the cage Yunho, himself, had him locked up. If you connected all the dots, it made sense now. Yunho isn’t just a player, he’s an unexperienced boy who only wants to feel real attraction, instead of just the physical one. And maybe if you gave him the chance, he would.

“and I want to call you mine, too”

You’re indeed the protagonist of your own romantic novel but, no, this one won’t end like all the others.

“hell, I so wanna call you mine”, you shut your eyes tightly and exhaled…and your next words got Yunho dumbfounded.

“…let’s take it slowly…”

“…let’s start by being friends”

Yunho’s heart had never clenched so hard before. He thought he’d lose his balance right then and there and collapse like a child who had just found out that his brother had eaten the very precious sweet he’s been hiding from everyone. A soft frown found his lips as he spoke the first words that came to his dizzy mind.

“can friends do this?”

He cupped your cheeks and you felt his thumbs rub your apples, but you were the one to lean in this time. You kissed him hesitantly but he kissed back with no second thoughts. You didn’t wanna be his friend…you wanted to kiss his neck and his lips and his cheeks and all his being and, maybe, love him too. He took your arm and threw it over his shoulder and you wrapped them both around his neck. This kiss was slower than before, more passionate like there was meaning behind it. A tingling feeling was sent down your spine when you noticed none of you rushed to make it deeper. It was just enough to feel how the emotions he was experiencing were new to him and you were sure now, you’re willing to help him welcome them.

“because, if they can, I don’t think I’ll be able to call you friend for long”

“friends don’t do what I’m about to do either”, you said and let your hand slide down all the way from his neck, through his t-shirt, and to his jeans and rested it on his soft member. You didn’t know why you did that, but you knew the vibe was so different from the last time you had touched him there, more endearing, if you will. He stiffened sensibly and let his head hung low as a small moan left his lips. His hands found the hem of your t-shirt and, letting them slip underneath the fabric, he grasped your sides with the whole of his large palms.

Your lips found each other’s again in a sloppier kiss and with eyes flattered shut and heavy breaths against the other’s skin, your hand slipped under the jeans and the thin material of his boxers. You caressed him slowly, receiving a hum turned into a groan from him.

“yeah they don’t…but losers who fall for each other, do”

He said and pinched your sides making you take your hand out of his jeans. You stared at him for a while. Maybe if you both tried, you could learn together and you could fall together and you could help each other find your real selves.

Collecting his thoughts, for the first time after a long time, Yunho took your hand in his. You walked out of the ‘employees only’ room and the bar, with him guiding you like you didn’t know the place.

“Let me take my friend on a friend date for friends”

“I would accept if it wasn’t 4am…”

You wouldn’t be able to call him friend for long, either…

[kiwi-bitchez]

You Can Bet On It

Summary: Your roommate drags you out to the club where she beets a tall, blonde, handsome brit. You hand back at the bar and happen to meet his roommate. 

Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: smutttt, a little rough, spanking and light choking, use of vibrator, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 8k (got a little carried away with this one...)

Oh god, what is that horrible squeaking sound?

You are ripped from your trance to realize that the irritating noise was coming from you. Your bad habit of scratching off beer labels when you are nervous was starting to show, as your nail had worn completely through the thin paper, and had been obnoxiously rubbing into the glass.

You had zoned out, letting your eyes land on the ground and drift out of focus, clearing your head for a moment or five. Bars weren’t your favorite place. Scratch that, this kind of bar wasn’t your favorite place. Watered down liquor, slurred speech, thumping music, and people who were drunk enough not to care that they were practically having sex in public.

One of those people being your roommate Madison. You loved her, but god you couldn’t be more different. She is wild, sparkly, loud, fun. You’re…not. Your squeaking had pulled your focus back up to the dancefloor of the club where she was swaying her body back and forth with some tall blonde stranger.

You had to give it to her, she had a way with men at bars. Barely even setting her stuff down before someone buys her a drink, uses a line, offers to dance. This was Madison’s cup of tea, or tequila rather. She loves getting dressed up and going out to the busiest clubs, finding some handsome stranger to whisk her away for a night.

You didn’t judge her, not at all. You actually found yourself jealous of her, wishing you had that kind of confidence. She had tried to help you on many occasions, being your self-proclaimed wing-woman and trying to help you pick up guys at bars, but you could never quite get the hang of the awkward small talk and rushed physical intimacy.

You did, on occasions like this, let her drag you out with her. It kept her off your back about being “antisocial” and a “hermit,” and you liked keeping an eye out for her, making sure no one was trying to take advantage. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, Madison would snap if anyone tried to pull anything, but a more sober pair of eyes never hurts.

You had managed to grab a seat at the bar, facing outward to observe the bustling crowd. People-watching could sometimes prove to be an interesting way to pass the time, and truthfully you’d rather observe than interact most of the time. A few people had started conversations with you at the bar, and you weren’t a bitch or anything, you just clearly gave off the vibe that you weren’t interested in being bought some fruity cocktail and wooed onto the dancefloor.

Madison had her back pressed against the guy she was dancing with, his hands on her hips. The song was ending, and she made eye contact with you, nodding her head not-so-subtly towards the bathroom, signaling to you that she wanted to talk. Laughing to yourself at how un-smooth, yet totally smooth she managed to be at the same time.

“What���s up girl,” you ask as she pulls you into one of the single stall bathrooms.

“Y/N,” she grabs your shoulders, “he’s BRITISH.”

“Who?” you ask before registering that she was probably talking about that boy she had been grinding on.

“His name is Harrison, and he’s BRITISH, got the accent and everything,” she pressed her back up to the wall, pretending to fan herself off.

“Damn, going international now?” you joke, twiddling with the bottle in your hand.

“So, I need you to check him out, get a vibe, and let me know what you think,” she locks eyes with you, trying to be serious, unable to keep a few giggles from slipping out.

“I saw you two dancing, he’s definitely really good looking,” you tell her. She would always do this, try to make you feel involved, ask your opinion about the guy she was flirting with. She said she always wants your truthful opinion, but she always got the hottest guy at the place no matter where she was, so there wasn’t much for you to tell.

“Ugh, I’m totally gonna fuck him. Should I? I’m going to. I HAVE to. He’s British, and I can’t pass up an opportunity like that,” she was definitely talking to herself at this point.

You turn her towards the mirror, help her fluff her hair, straighten her dress, and give her some words of encouragement.

“You are hot. You are amazing. And you are going to have amazing hot sex with British Harrison,” you chant to her in the mirror, encouraging her to say it back to herself. Not that she needed the encouragement, but these little rituals you had in club bathrooms were always funny and sweet, it was one of the reasons you didn’t mind going out with her. You appreciated that she liked having your opinion, having someone she trusted around.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” you give her butt a tap as she exits the bathroom and shuffles back out onto the dancefloor, finding her man right where she had left him.

Your seat at the bar had been stolen, but you spotted an empty area over by a wall, somewhere you could comfortably stand and wait until Madison left with her suitor. Deciding to order another drink, something a little stronger than the beer you had been nursing, you make your way over to the bar.

Forearms leaning against the hard surface, you poke your head forward trying to get the bartender’s attention. She walks over, but immediately starts chatting up the guy standing next to you. Typical. If she pushed her boobs up a little bit he would probably leave a fat tip, so you couldn’t blame her.

You shift your eyes over to get a look at the guy next to you as he orders his gin and tonic, all you could see were his toned forearms and a glimpse of his profile. Not bad. You understood why the bartender was so eager to ignore you. She eventually stops fake laughing at his order, because what the fuck is funny about a gin and tonic, and looks your way.

“I’ll just have the same,” you say quickly, wanting to get out of there quickly and claim your spot by the wall.

“Are you copying me, love?” the stranger asks, leaning his bodyweight against the bar in the same position as you, “is that your move? Order the same drink to chat me up?”

“What’s your move, love” you quickly quip back, “being a dick to girls at the bar and hoping they’re into that?”

“You just didn’t strike me as a G and T type of girl, that’s all,” he puts his hands up defensively.

“Hmmm I see, be a dick and then tell me what kind of girl I seem like.”

You finally turn to him, allowing yourself to make eye contact. You hoped that he wasn’t taking your banter the wrong way, you weren’t trying to be nasty, you just found yourself in a particular mood.

He opened his mouth to say something back to you, but you cut him off before he could. In the two seconds you had made eye contact, you had realized that the stranger you were having your little back and forth with had an accent. A British accent.

“Are you here with that guy?” you gesture over to Madison on the dancefloor, “tall, blonde, striking blue eyes. English.”

“Harrison? Yeah, he’s my mate. If you’re interested in him you should probably have made your move a while ago, because he seems a bit occupied,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, occupied with my roommate,” you laugh back.

“Ah, I see,” he takes the two drinks from the bartender, handing you yours.

“Is he a good guy?” you ask, not sure why this man would tell you otherwise, “he’s not going to like, tie her up and murder her or anything like that?”

“Harrison? Nah, good guy, decent guy. He might tie her up, but he definitely won’t murder her.”

“Ha ha,” you sarcastically respond, “just looking out for my friend.”

“Why do you ask? You think they’ll go home together?” he asks.

“Oh, most definitely,” you tell him, “she dragged me into the bathroom a minute ago to gush about how she’s about to fuck a British guy.”

“Haz is a bit of a slag, so that won’t be too hard on her part.”

“Yeah, I see they are already well acquainted,” you turn to see Madison’s tongue down his throat. This night may be ending quicker than you had anticipated.

“I’m Tom,” he pulls your attention away from the public displays of affection and back to where he was seated at the bar, an empty seat opening up next to him.

“Y/N,” you stick out the hand that wasn’t holding your drink.

“It’s weird that you shake hands,” he says as he takes your clammy hand into his, his grip tighter than you had expected.

You shrug and take a gulp of your drink, abandoning hope of claiming the spot by the wall and deciding to camp out here with this strange British boy until Madison goes on her merry way.

“So how do you know him,” you nod back to where Harrison and Madison are.

“Oh, Haz is my best mate, we go way, way back,” he leans on his arm again, giving you a good view of his biceps against his black t-shirt, “we live in South London, but we’re here in the States for the summer. Work stuff.”

“Oh, so you two live together?” he nods at your question while sipping his drink, “so we can be sad and lonely at the bar while our hot roommates get it on.”

“Wow, I’ve never been told I’m lousy company before,” his humor met yours, “and I even paid for your drink you copycat.”

“You didn’t,” you give him a stern look but he shrugs back, a mischievous grin creeping across his face.

“Is this your ploy,” you smack the side of his arm, “the two of you find girls at the bar to lure back to your fancy apartment to have a freaky foursome with or something like that?”

“Now who’s being a dick and assuming things,” he says through broken laughs.

“Although,” you draw out your words, “your friend is pretty hot, maybe I’ll just go home with them.”

“Haz most certainly would not be opposed to that,” he jokes back.

You gesture to the bartender to make two more, and to put them on your tab. Tom gives you a look, but you give him one right back.

“Now I don’t owe you anything,” you explain.

“Hey, I’m not like that,” he gets defensive again, “I’m not quite as sleazy as my friend over there.”

“I’m just trying to help you out,” you narrow your eyes, “you’re the one who’s going to have to put up with the two of them all night.” You gesture over towards Madison and Haz.

“Pardon,” he coughs as he downs the rest of his drink, getting ready for the next.

“Oh, you thought they would be going back to our apartment?” you laugh sarcastically, “no, no, absolutely not.”

“Are you being serious? Or are you fucking with me? Cuz I honestly can’t tell.”

“Oh, you’re going to wish I was fucking with you. By the way she’s looking at him, I’m gonna give them, I don’t know, three, four solid rounds,” you try to make an empathetic face but can’t help the grin that creeps onto your face, “and Madison’s a screamer.”

“Too much information, thank you,” Tom covers his ears.

“Hey, I’m just trying to give you a heads up,” you cackle.

“Who’s to say he can’t convince them to go back to yours. I bet it’s closer.”

“She’s good at getting what she wants, and she “doesn’t shit where she eats”,” you make air quotes around the phrase, “in whatever twisted way that means she doesn’t like to bring guys back to our apartment. Weird personal rule, but I don’t question it cuz I always get to sleep peacefully.”

“You wanna bet?” Tom suggests, clearly not having thought this through, “My boy Haz is a smooth talker, and it seems like she really likes him. I say you’re the unfortunate roommate who’s going to have to put up with all that.”

“You’re on,” you set your drink down, extending your hand to him for the second time that night, “what do I get when they go back to your place?”

“If they go back to mine, I’ll cover your tab and leave you alone. And when they go back to yours, you’ll agree to let me take you out sometime,” he shakes your hand with a cocky grin on his face.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a bet, either way you’re buying me a drink.” He was growing on you, the accent, the floppy brown hair, the dimples. You were still wary of meeting strangers at bars, but something about him seemed genuine.

The two of you flipped around in your bar stools and faced the dancefloor. You liked that he never asked you to dance. Most girls would be dying to dance with a guy like Tom, but you liked just sitting at the bar, shooting the shit and sipping your drinks.

“Okay, okay, here they come,” you whisper and jab your elbow into his side.

Madison and Harrison stumble off the dancefloor and make their way to your place at the bar.

“Hey mate,” Harrison slings an arm around Tom’s shoulder.

You tune out their conversation as you notice Madison making a ridiculous face at you, eyes practically bugging out of her head.

“THAT’S his roommate?” she mouths to you, gesturing to Tom. You nod, trying to signal to her to be more subtle.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” she continues to mouth words silently to you.

“What???” you mouth back, trying to not let Tom and Harrison notice this awkward side conversation you were having. Luckily, they were occupied by their own.

“He’s fucking HOT,” She starts to whisper, you scrunch up your face, trying to tell her to stop making a scene about it. She gets the hint, but proceeds to point to you, point to Tom, and then do the finger going in and out of the hole gesture.

You slap her hand down as she starts to laugh, “Jesus Madison, cut it out,” you whisper, “you two are going back to his?” you change the subject.

“Yeah, obviously,” she says a little louder, “sooo, perfect opportunity for you…”

“Chill out, please,” you bring your hand to your temple, knowing she was being anything but subtle and Tom had probably noticed by this point.

“I owe you big time,” Harrison says to Tom as he starts to back away, taking Madison under his arm, “I’m serious bro.”

“Yeah, yeah, be safe you two,” Tom swats the air towards Harrison and turns back towards the bar, burying his head into his hands.

“Ha ha,” you poke his side, “told you that was a bad bet to make.”

“Know any cheap hotels around here?” Tom asks, looking exasperated.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you look at him seriously, “he kicked you out for the whole night?”

“I offered,” Tom sighs, “he would do the same for me.”

“Damn, you’re a good friend. Certainly a better roommate than me,” you turn to him, trying to be sympathetic, “but honestly, you probably didn’t want to be present for any of that anyways.”

Tom gestures towards the bartender with his card, telling her to charge for both your bar tabs.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” you say.

“Hey, a bet is a bet, and now I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.”

You grab his arm as he starts to get up. Something inside of you told you to help him out, to not let him leave.

“It’s no Four Seasons, but I may know a place where you could kill a few hours,” you tell him, his eyes wide with excitement that you wanted to spend more time with him.

“You sure? It’s really no trouble…”

“Yeah, I’m sure, it’s only a few blocks from here.”

The two of you exit the loud club, only a few minutes behind Harrison and Madison. The stark contrast of the freezing outside air from the sweaty atmosphere of the club hits you. You take a few steps out onto the city sidewalk. Suddenly your feet buckle out underneath you and you are slipping backwards rapidly.

Tom quickly grabs you, one hand catching your shoulders and the other grabbing your hand, helping steady you. You gasp from the fall, but are grateful that you never hit the pavement.

“Hey, watch out for that patch of ice,” he jokes.

“Thank you,” you were a little flustered, both from falling and from being in his arms.

The two of you continue down the street, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You look at him questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

“Just making sure you don’t slip again, love,” he squeezes your hand a little tighter. You roll your eyes at him but don’t let go.

Typically, you would hate the pet names, “love,” “darling.” That stuff usually made your skin crawl. But there was something about his demeanor, maybe it was the accent, that made you not mind it at all. You actually kind of liked it.

“So where are you taking me?” he asks.

“Secret.”

It actually wasn’t anything worth keeping a secret. You worked at a small bar a few blocks away from the club you had been at. It was very different however. It was small, and never crowded other than a few regulars who would take the same booths and order the same drinks every night. It was down a side street, relatively difficult to find, hence the lack of business.

What you weren’t planning on telling Tom was that this was also the building you lived in. Your apartment was a few floors up. You picked up night and weekend shifts at the small bar to help cover rent, plus it wasn’t a bad place to spend your extra time. You never had to work too hard, and you could read or do homework behind the bar when not tending to customers. Plus, you got the pick the music.

You stomped your feet against the doormat, scraping all the collected snow off your shoes. Tom didn’t seem to be bothered that you had brought him to another bar, he seemed happy even. You watched his face intently as his cheeks grew rosy from the warmth of the indoors. You liked how the tips of his ears turned pink.

“Voila,” you gesture to the generally empty room, “the Four Seasons.”

He smiles at you and offers to take your coat. He makes his way over to the bar, choosing one of many empty seats. His eyebrows knit together as you continue walking away from him, hopping behind the bar.

“I’m not sure you’re allowed…” he starts.

“Hey Ernie,” you yell into the back office. Your boss replies with something muffled that Tom can’t quite make out, “no, not working tonight, just here with a friend,” you respond to him.

“Ah, so we’re friends now?” Tom asks as you start to make two drinks.

“Oh sorry,” you respond sarcastically, “I’m just here with the roommate of the guy who’s fucking my roommate, my bad.”

“No, no,” he brings his hands up, “we can be friends.”

He takes a sip of the drink you’ve handed him, asking you what it is.

“Moscow mule, fresh ginger, extra lime.”

“This is great, I’ve never had one of these.”

“What can I say, I’m kind of a pro,” you lean on the bar across from him, folding your arms on the countertop.

He liked your sense of humor, how you always had a comeback or something snarky to say. He also really liked your casual attitude, how you seemed unphased by everything. Little did he know you were constantly screaming inside, completely unsure of everything you said and did. Completely unsure as to how you ended up making a cocktail for one of the most attractive boys you’ve ever met. You tried to keep your cool though, and so far, it had been working.

You faced one another, sipping your drinks. At first an awkward moment of silence settled around you, exposing that the two of you truly had just met and knew virtually nothing about one another. You quickly slipped into easy conversation. You didn’t talk about the typical important things like where you worked, where you go to school, how you ended up in the city. You didn’t ask him why he was in the states, or any details about his personal life.

The stuff you talked about was far more personal than that. You exchanged theories about the ending of Lost, debated what Ben and Jerry’s flavor is best, shared the local vernacular and slang you used. These are the things that are important. You didn’t care what he did for work. But you did care what his favorite sitcom was.

“Does this place serve food at all?” he asked when your conversation had turned to what shape of pasta goes best with what sauces.

“Nah,” you gesture to the bar, “this is everything, no kitchen.”

“Damn, I could go for something to eat. Any good places around here?”

“Unfortunately, no. Everything near us either closed at midnight or will for sure give you food poisoning.”

He ate the lime out of his drink, sucking on the pulp until nothing but the skin was left.

“Really that hungry huh?” you joke, taking his lime wedge and tossing it in the garbage, “cuz I can cut up as many of those as you’d like, maybe even find you some maraschino cherries.”

“Don’t bother, maybe I’ll just drink myself into an oblivion.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” you were going against your better judgment when you said this, but it just slipped out, “I can get you some food, follow me.”

You walked around from behind the bar and instructed him to follow you. You slipped through a back door into a spiraling staircase. The air was cold and musty, and the stairs were slightly rickety under your feet. This was the fastest way to get up to your apartment, and you realized now it was too late to turn back, he had joined you in the stairwell and you started making your way up.

“You were worried about your roommate getting murdered by Haz, but now I’m starting to think I should be the one worried,” his tone was joking, but you wondered if he actually thought you were crazy.

“Very funny,” you dismissed it as a joke, “I live in this building, smarty pants.”

You raced him up a few flights of stairs until you arrived at your floor. You started down the hall, not looking back to see if he was following. Your breath grew a little shaky as you searched for your key, realizing you were letting this stranger, this hot stranger into your apartment.

You were just going to make him some food, you remind yourself. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll let him crash on your couch, who knows. You kept telling yourself you had no reason to be this nervous. He’s just a person.

A person with big brown eyes and strong arms. A person who held your hand and laughed at your jokes. A person who willingly followed you to your apartment door from the sketchy bar you brought him to. Oh god, maybe you did have a reason to be nervous.

“It’s a little messy, hope you don’t mind,” you open the door for him, taking off your shoes at the door.

Your apartment was small, but cozy. You and Madison had been living there for almost two years now, and the apartment was well lived in. Funny pictures donned the walls, fuzzy blankets were strewn around the couches, leftovers filled the fridge.

“What’s on the menu?” he asks, reminding you that he’s here for food.

“Hmmm,” you open the pantry, “we have supplies for stir fry, and… stir fry.”

“I think I’ll have the stir fry,” he laughs, comfortably taking a seat at your small kitchen table.

You quickly started gathering ingredients on the counter, preheating the pan.

“Any preferences?” you yell into the next room.

“I’m not picky,” he responds, “thanks again.”

You start chopping up everything in your fridge and toss it into a pan with some leftover rice. It doesn’t take you long to whip up a decent meal, as stir fry was a recurring meal in your life. You glide into the living room, two bowls in hand. He had found your speaker system and taken it upon himself to put on some music, not that you minded.

“Fuck,” he mumbles after a few mouthfuls, “either I’m starving, or you make a mean fried rice.”

“One of my many specialties,” you were glad that he liked it, glad that he seemed so relaxed despite being in a stranger’s home.

“You’re pretty cool, do you know that?” he took you by surprise

“Umm,” you weren’t sure how to respond to the compliment.

“I just haven’t really met anyone nice since moving here. Haz is really the only other person I know,” he says through bites of food, “and meeting random girls at bars isn’t really a decent way to get to know people, not really know them anyways.”

You were flattered that he was being so honest, but part of you wondered if he was buttering you up to try and get into your pants. You had let him pay for your drinks, taken him to a secondary location, and then cooked him dinner at 2 am, he really would have no reason not to believe you wanted to sleep with him. And you did, oh god did you want to sleep with him, but you were still trying to get a read, was he a flirt like this with everyone? Were you just the girl who happened to be in the right seat at the bar at the right time?

This was why you could never follow through with casual bar hookups. Your  mind ran circles around the other person, who they were, where their motivations were coming from. You could never just focus on the fact that you thought he was hot, and you wanted his dick in your mouth.

“Thanks, I guess, you’re kind of cool too,” you avoided eye contact, “but you realize that I am a random girl you met at a bar, right?”

He laughed at your response, finishing his food and taking both of your empty plates into the kitchen. You tried to stop him, but he insisted that you had done the cooking so he would do the dishes, you chose not to argue.

“Yeah but most girls at the bar don’t make me dinner,” he retorts. He had a point, this was kind of an unusual situation you found yourself in. Would this have been easier if you had met him a different way? Rubbed up on him like Madison and Harrison and scurried off to the closest bed? Probably. They were probably already at least two rounds in by now.

“I’ve never taken someone home from the bar before,” oh god, why did you just say that. Why were you being vulnerable and honest, tell him you’re a pro, that you do this all the time.

“Really? I’m surprised,” his tone was nonchalant, so maybe your awkward outburst of truth hadn’t shaken him like you thought it would, “why not?”

“Why not?” you repeat his question to yourself, “I’m just not really good at this kind of stuff, not like you.”

“Are you kidding me?” He turns from the sink to see you leaning against the counter across from him, “You were the one who wined and dined me.”

“I hardly consider stir fry and a vodka mixer to be wining and dining,” you tried to cover up your embarrassment.

“Jeez, then I’d like to experience whatever you consider to be wining and dining, cuz I’m having a great time.”

“What’s your last name?” you ask quickly, suddenly changing the subject

“Holland,” he tells you, “why?”

“I just figured I should know your full name, Tom Holland, if I’m gonna let you sleep in my apartment. You know, in case I have to report you to the police cuz you’ve robbed me or murdered my cat or something.”

“No offense but it doesn’t really look like you have anything worth stealing, and I’m pretty sure you don’t have a cat,” he laughs

“Both true,” you were laughing too. Still in the kitchen, you weren’t sure how to migrate somewhere else.

“You’re sure though? I don’t want to impose. I really can just go find a cheap motel, or go back to my place and crash the orgy that’s probably happening,” he didn’t want to stay if you weren’t comfortable.

“No worries,” you start moving to the living room, “you can make it up to me some other time. I promise you don’t want to be going back to whatever noises are happening in your apartment right now.”

You truly would have been content with him sleeping on the couch, slipping out the next morning, and never speaking again. Well, no. That wasn’t true. You wouldn’t be content, but you’d live with it. You didn’t want to assume anything, didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.

“So,” you start, obviously about to make a fool of yourself, “I can get you some blankets, and you can sleep out here. Or, if you want, we can share my bed. It’s up to you and I won’t be offended either way, I swear.”

Why did you always say things that made you feel so stupid. You winced at your own statement, not wanting to see his reaction. He took a few steps towards you, standing close, but not as close as you would have liked. You continue to look away, waiting for him to say something.

Eyes down on the carpet, you feel his hand grab your chin softly, angling your head up to meet his.

“And when we share your bed,” the breath of his words hitting your face, “are we just going to sleep, or are we...” Although his voice was cool and confident, he was genuinely asking. He had a hard time reading you, and wasn’t sure if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, or if you were just being nice.

“The second one, definitely the second one,” you reply a little too quickly before he pulls your face to his, lips finally meeting.

His face was warm, and he smiled into the kiss, loving the way your round lips felt on his. He let his hands move to the sides of your face, cradling your jaw as his mouth moved against you. You pulled him closer to you by the grip you had on his t-shirt, the white fabric balled up in your nervous grip. You pulled him backwards with you, navigating your way down the hall.

Taking an intermission on the minute walk down to your bedroom, he presses you up against the wall of the hallway, shoulders angled above yours and mouth still hot against you. You reach your hands towards his, wanting to show him that he had control, that you wanted him to take control of you.

Getting your message, he takes your wrists together in one hand and pins them against the wall above you. His hips jut forward into yours as his wet kisses trail from the corner of your mouth down to your neck.

“Fuck, I-” you moan breathily as he sucks a spot below your ear, your hips rolling forward to meet his. All the while his grip remained tight on your wrists, keeping them steadily pinned above your head. You liked the feeling of letting go, having someone else control the situation. You were generally uptight and liked to take control in other aspects of your life, but this is one that you wanted to submit to.

“You what?” he responds with a steady voice, brown eyes burning holes into you. You knew your face was probably flushed red, hair a complete mess, and neck littered with splotches.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper shakily, “Please.”

Letting go of your arms and lifting you up by your thighs in one swift motion, he takes you by surprise as your face falls into his neck.

“This one yours?” he starts walking down to the end of the hall.

“Mhmm,” you mumble as you start to return the favor, licking up and down the base of his neck until you found his sweet spot. Suddenly you were falling back as he playfully tossed you onto your bed, sheets unmade, and blankets bunched up.

You land in a heap, quickly moving to take your shirt off. He moves quicker, practically tackling you down onto the mattress, causing you both to laugh a little.

“Hey,” he protests, “I wanted to do that.” He takes you hands and moves them as he had done before, and lifts your shirt off your body, you arch your back to help.

He slides his arm underneath you, causing your back to stay arched, pressing your chest into his. He slips his tongue back into your mouth, meanwhile he shimmies out of his jeans, letting them fall to the floor with your abandoned shirt.

Something between a gasp and a whimper escapes your lips as his other hand snakes its way into your damp underwear. Your hands lurch up into his hair, pulling his face into yours as he starts to draw slow circles up and down your lips.

He finally slips a finger into you, causing a guttural moan to stir deep in your throat. You bite your lip to hold the noises back, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly pumps into you. His face comes back into focus as he steadies your head, running his thumb across your lower lip, tugging it away from your teeth.

Instinctually you wrap your lips around his finger, letting your tongue drag itself across his digit. You open your mouth up from its pucker, letting him alternate his thumb with his index and middle fingers, letting those slip into your warm mouth as well. You match the movements of his hand in your pussy with your mouth, sucking down on his fingers every time he re-entered you.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groans, his cock throbbing in his boxer briefs, “I didn’t realize you’d be so dirty.”

You grew a little self-conscious at his comment, opening your mouth so he could remove his fingers.

“It’s so fucking sexy,” he drags the pads of his fingers down your tongue. He moves them down and drags the warm wetness from your saliva down your throat and onto your nipples that were now slipped out of the top of your bra.

You buck your hips into his hand and moan, loving the way he was above you, fucking you with his strong hand, fingers much bigger than your own. You felt his pulsing erection pressing into your lower thigh, and groaned at the thought of him filling you up.

“Tommy,” you didn’t mean to use the nickname, but it slipped out, “condoms are in the shoebox in my bedside drawer, if you want to fuck me.”

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean. Your eyelids fluttered at the sight, grinding your hips up into his to show him how bad you wanted him. His shirt came off and joined the pile of your clothes that was slowly growing larger on your floor. You expected him to be fit based on his arms, but he was stacked, built, unreal.

He clearly liked the attention, a cocky smile creeping across his face as your mouth hung slightly open, eyes dragging across his perfect body. He tugs on the waistband of your pants, that were mostly slipped off at this point, to signal to you to remove them while he rummaged through your bedside drawer.

You maneuver your way into a comfortable position, now completely naked, head resting back on a pillow. He was taking a little longer than you expected, pushing and prodding things around.

“They should be right there, blue box? Probably unopened?” you chuckle trying to make light of the situation. The smile is wiped clean off your face as soon as you heard a faint buzzing, then it stopped, then it started again. Condom in hand, as well as your purple vibrator, he climbs back on the bed up to you.

“You are dirty,” he says, trying not to laugh, “I fucking knew it.”

“Hey, you were not supposed to find that!” You try to snatch it out of his hand but he pulls away too quickly.

“You told me shoebox in the nightstand! What were you expecting me to find? You have like eight of these!”

“I do not own eight! I own five, and they are all different and special in their own ways!” you argue back, both laughing now as he jokingly pressed the vibrating wand into your side.

“You keep all kinds of fun stuff in there, huh?” he was not going to let it go. So what, you kept a few…personal items in a secret box in your nightstand, condoms included. You didn’t think he would look around and take an inventory. Your lack of finesse with strangers in bars was made up for by your wide array of battery-operated boyfriends. It wasn’t your fault that the online shop you ordered from sent free gifts when you spent over $100…like fuzzy handcuffs and cherry flavored lube.

The two of you laughed for a minute, both in nothing but your underwear. You were laughing, but the idea of him fucking you with one of your toys quickly made a crimson blush flush over your face. 

“Like I said darling,” he drags the vibrator down your stomach to meet your clothed pussy, “you’re fucking sexy.”

Your hips naturally buck up against his touch, arms snaking their way around his neck to pull his face down to yours. His strong fingers, much thicker than your own, re-entered you as he pressed the vibrator firmly against your clit. 

You couldn’t help but moan into his wet mouth as he fucked his fingers into you.

“Please,” you whimper, “fuck, Tom, please fuck me. I need you so bad.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he whispers into your ear, somehow making your pussy wetter than it already is. 

He pulls out of you, causing you to groan at the loss of contact. He tosses his boxers off, revealing his rock hard cock that springs up to his lower stomach. You mouth practically started watering at the sight. He pumps his hand a few times and then rolls the condom on.

You manage to move your shaky legs enough to slip your underwear and bra off. You didn’t have the mental capacity to be self conscious about being naked in front of him, because you were far too occupied drooling over his body. 

“How do you want me?” you ask innocently, not meaning to moan out the words as you did. 

“Flip over,” he gestures for you to get on all fours, and your knees got weak at the thought. 

You positioned your ass up in the air, open and ready for him. You let out a sharp breath as he slides the tip of his cock up and down your folds, teasing you before finally pushing inside. He only pushes in part way though, waiting for your reaction. 

“Fuck, Tommy,” you try to roll your hips back onto him, but he firmly grips your ass and keeps you in position. 

“You need to learn how to be patient, pretty girl,” he slowly pulls your hips back to meet his, agonizingly slow but so fucking good at the same time. 

Your eyes began to water because of how good his cock felt pushed all the way into you, you wanted him to move so bad, but he wanted to torture you, make you wait for it. 

“Please, will you please fuck me, I need it,” you sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you wanted him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Quiet moans left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair behind your ear, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

He took that as a clear green light to yank back on your hair, causing your back to arch more. He keeps fucking you relentlessly, filling the room with sounds of skin slapping against skin. The obscene noises coming from your mouth only encouraged him to fuck you harder, pull your hair harder, grip your hips harder. 

With little warning you feel him suddenly slip out of you, and before you could turn around to ask how he wanted you next, you feel his hands grab tightly to the back of your thighs, keeping you propped up exactly as you are. You feel his hot tongue enter your warm pussy from the back, quickly licking wide stripes up your folds. 

“Holy shit,” your brain could not process the pleasure you were feeling fast enough. 

He starts to feel your thighs shake under his grasp, knowing that you are close. He wanted to make you come, and hard, as a special thank you for inviting him up to your place. And that he did. 

He sucked harshly on your clit, hips tilted all the way back for him, giving him perfect access. You couldn't even articulate to him how good he was making you feel. You were moaning so loud you were worried the neighbors could hear, so you take a fistful of sheets and bury your mouth in them, muffling your sounds. You legs began to violently shake as he lapped up your juices, bringing a harsh slap down onto your ass. Your hips fell to the mattress as soon as he let go. 

He grabs your waist and helps you flip over so you lay flat on your back. He hovers over you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips. You feel his hard cock pressing into your core, begging for entrance. 

“You good?” he asks as your eyes finally focus, your brain coming back down to earth, “do you want to keep going?” he asks genuinely.

“I’m so fucking good,” you bring him down into a more passionate kiss, pressing your hips up into his erection, “I want nothing more than for you to fuck the shit out of me.”

“Thank god, cuz I want to feel that pretty pussy of yours come all over my cock.” 

His words sent shivers down your spine, more so as he pushed back into your sopping wet cunt, finding a quick rhythm fucking into you. He presses your thighs back with his large hands, hitting you at the perfect angle. Your mouth gapes open watching his perfect body thrust into you. How the fuck did you get so lucky? Is this a dream? Possibly. 

You notice a smirk creep onto his face, he raises his eyebrows and gives you a look. 

“You didn’t think I forgot about this, did you?” he grabs the purple vibrator from the side of the bed and flicks the switch on. 

You all but explode as he brings it down to your throbbing clit. The addition of the vibrations to his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly sent you into one of the most body-shaking orgasms of all time. If that wasn’t enough, you open your eyes to see his perfect hand wrapping around your throat, applying exactly the right amount of pressure to your neck.

You can’t say anything other than his name over and over as your walls begin to contract around him. You throw your head back as you see stars. He lets his grip on your neck go and leans down to capture you in a kiss, wanting to connect with you as you reached your peak. 

Making intense eye contact, you watch as he bites his lip, savoring the feeling of you coming undone around him. You frantically bring your hands to the back of his head, tangling them in his messy hair as you come down from possibly the most intense orgasm of your life. 

“Holy fuck baby, feel so good around me, fuck, gonna make me come soon,” he pants between thrusts. 

“Mmmm,” you were still fucked-out from your orgasm, “I want it in my mouth.”

His eyes practically fell out of his head at your comment, lips coming down to attack your breasts that had been wildly bouncing each time he pressed into you. In one swift motion he managed to flip you over. You slide down between his legs and start pumping his cock, not wanting to lose momentum.

You wrap your lips around his head, feeling his shaft twitch under your hand. Swirling your tongue around the tip while quickly jerking him off quickly pushes him over the edge, his come filling your mouth along with your saliva. 

His hips jerk up as he comes, pushing his length further into your throat, but you don’t mind, in fact you kind of like it. You watch his expression as you swallow his come, making big doe eyes at him. You lick your lips a little and crawl back up to meet his face. 

Flopping down next to him, you let your sweaty body fall into rhythm with his deep breaths.    

“I-,” he starts, turning to meet your face, “I don’t even know what to say, that was fucking incredible.”

You turn your head away from him, pretending to act shy. 

“I fucking mean it, you’re perfect.”

Your cheeks actually turn pink at this. You press your head to his chest, telling him you liked it a lot too. More than liked it. 

“I don’t know if this is weird, if I should go…” he starts to move.

“Offer still stands of course,” you grab his hand, wanting to feel his chest against your cheek again, “couch or bed is all yours.”

“Bed please,” he flops back down next to you and lets you tangle up in his arms, “as long as we can do that again in the morning. You have all those fun toys, I need to try them all out on you.” 

The two of you quickly fall asleep, naked and basking in your post sex bliss, a huge smile on your face. 

The next morning you hear keys jangling in the front door. Opening your groggy eyes, you don’t have time to fully wake up and register what is happening before you hear Madison knocking at your door. 

She barges in, wanting to tell you all about her night with Haz. 

“Holy FUCK y/n, I-” she starts before seeing the figure next to you in bed. 

You frantically grab the sheets to cover yourself up and make a wild gesture to tell her to get out. She silently breaks into a huge grin, waving her arms around and pumping her fists in the air. You keep gesturing for her to get out, but she continues to victory dance on your behalf. 

You knew you would never hear the end of this. 

[c-c-cherry]

What's the most embarrassing thing each of the Bucci gang has done/has had happen to them?

Ok I took WAY too long on this but I loved this question so much and it was so fun coming up with these. Special thanks to my girl @jjadegreen for helping me!!

**This isn’t NSFW but I’d say its teen and up just because of some of the stuff talked about hehe**

______________________

Mista

-Pre-canon Mista was a bit sick one night so Bruno made him stay home while they all went on this one mission

-So naturally he’s like “HELL YEAH HOME ALONE”

-Bruno forgets his wallet and had to come back a little while later to get it and walks in on him wearing the following:

One of Abbacchio’s signature goth dress robe thing

Like 12 of Bruno’s barrettes all sticking to the top of his head

Fugo’s tie

Narancia’s bandana

All while BLASTING K-Pop at full volume in the living room. And our man is INTO IT. This isn’t just some radio coincidence shit, he was SCREAMING the lyrics. He owns the CDs.

-Bucciarati LOSES IT. Mista has never been so mortified in his life and Bruno has never laughed so hard in his life.

-He promises not to tell the rest of the gang but tells him it’s officially blackmail material

-They never speak of it again but at Christmas Mista opens Bruno’s gift and it's a brand new K-pop CD and everyone thinks its just a gag gift but like

-He definitely listens to it later alone in his room

Bucciarati

Bruno Bucciarati does not get drunk for two main reasons:

He blacks out every time

He’s an absolute lightweight

-The last time Bruno got absolutely piss drunk, he was with Abbacchio and it wasn’t even funny. It was just surreal because Bucciarati never lets himself go to such an extent

-For whatever reason Bruno is like “hey I never drink we should go to the bar or something” after a successful mission

-Even though the legal age of drinking is technically 16 in Italy they leave “the kids” home to watch mean girls or some shit

-Mista tags along too because he’s worried Bruno will get drunk and spill about the unfortunate “K-pop incident”

-My man Bruno drank like two beers and was immediately GONE like he got up and got lost in the bar after way too many drinks and ran into a drag Queen with Abbacchio’s hair

-Said drag queen became Bruno Bucciarati’s new drinking buddy

-He stumbles over to the karaoke contest and gets onstage and grabs the shitty bar mic and screams “THIS GOES OUT TO LEONE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MWUA TWO YEARS HONEY~” and Mista is just like 👁👄👁

-Because uhhh they have literally been together for two years but everyone in the gang just thinks its a weird on/off thing because they never talk about it

-He sings dancing queen because its by ABBA and both Leone and Mista are fucking screaming with laughter and Abbacchio is filming the entire goddamn thing

-He buys the entire bar drinks they all love him so much

-Afterwards Leone tries to get them home so he leaves them outside while he takes a piss and when he walks back out THEY ARE GONE.

-Mista thought it would be a perfect time for them to get tattoos because his fucking capo is drunk off his ass and there is no better time

-Mista gets these two giant smoking guns on his back and his ass is in SO MUCH PAIN afterward that he leaves Bruno alone while he’s picking out his tattoo to get ice cream

-When he comes back Bruno has a tattoo ON HIS LEFT FOOT THAT SAYS “Never don’t give up.” The tattoo people tried to correct him but he insisted

-Abba finds them and is just like “jesus god” and takes them all to a hotel because there is no way in hell he’s taking them back home like this

-The next morning Bruno remembers absolutely NOTHING and as the gang admires Mista’s giant tattoo they ask if Bruno got one too and he’s like “god no I’m not that irresponsible”

-As soon as they’re alone Abba’s like “you got one on the bottom of your foot” and you can just see the moment Bucciarati’s soul leaves his body

Fugo

-Ok so if y’all didn’t know Fugo literally canonically wears a thong

-This isn’t sexualizing him (also I am indeed a minor don’t harass me) it's just a fact of life. You do you Fugo.

-So he sneaks out of the house once in a while and goes shopping for them cause our man’s gotta live, you know?

-He pops in the underwear store one day and you wanna know who he fucking passes by in the lingerie section?

-Bruno fucking Bucciarati.

-Which isn’t exactly a surprise considering he’s wearing visible lingerie in his tiddy window outfit but like

-That’s like running into your dad at femboy hooters

-Much to his dismay, the man spots him immediately and there’s just this...awkward silence as Fugo is holding this shopping basket of underwear and Bruno is holding the raunchiest piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life

-They never talk about it again. Fugo finds a different store.

Abbacchio

-The most mortifying moment Abbacchio can live to remember is the first time he told Bucciarati that he loved him

-Pre-canon, our man is NOT having a vibing time

-He gets absolutely wasted with while Bruno’s at his apartment

-He’s the most miserable drunk, so he’s just fucking sobbing and Bucci is sitting there trying to console him and Abbacchio just looks up at him with tears streaking down his face and says “I’m in love with you” and the look on Bruno’s face just makes him feel even more miserable

-The entire night he keeps blubbering about how much he loves him and how much he means to him and how beautiful he is and the entire time Bruno is doing that thing where he tries to cover his face with his hand because our man is mega FLUSTERED up in here

-When he wakes up he remembers EVERYTHING and he wished he didn’t because then maybe he would be able to say that he didn’t mean it

-Bruno is surprisingly just like “Did you really mean it?” and he can’t lie so he just tells the truth and he’s just nonchalantly like “me too”

-Bruno thinks it’ll be a nice wedding story and Abbacchio no longer wants to live on this planet

Narancia

-Mista and Narancia are vibing in the living room one night and Nara tells Mista to grab his gameboy from upstairs

-He says its under his pillow (or else Bruno will take it away every night hehe)

-But you wanna know what else is under Narancia’s pillow? His Diary. No, it’s not a journal or just a blank book, Mista finds a book titled DIARY.

-And the shit in there is priceless.

“Bucciarati is sooo cool. I tried cutting my hair like his, but it didn’t really work. I think I gotta wear this hat for the next couple weeks. Shit. Fuck. If someone takes it off, I’m so fucked.”

“I clogged up the toilet yesterday and was too scared to tell Abba, so I just flushed it again but then the water wouldn’t stop flooding everywhere so I used Aerosmith to explode the toilet and told Abba that it was a stand attack. He believed me. If ANYONE ever finds out, I’m dead.”

“HOLY SHIT. I swallowed a tide pod yesterday and freaked out so I made Giorno turn it into a grape in my stomach with his stand. I almost DIED. But I didn’t so I’m over it. If Giorno ever tells anyone, I’ll kill him.”

-Narancia realizes about ten minutes after Mista left that HOLY SHIT HIS DIARY

-he finds Mista three quarters way through it and gives him $50 not to tell anyone about it.

-The shame never leaves, though

Trish

-Jade gave me a cute headcanon that Trish’s mom was still only teaching her how to properly put on makeup before she died (it's not like there was youtube or anything to teach her either) so our girl Trish only knows the basics

-She puts on lip gloss and blush and mascara and stuff but she’s never even TOUCHED eyeliner and rarely puts on eyeshadow. She doesn’t even wear concealer most of the time (she honestly doesn’t even need to, her skin is baby soft smooth)

-So long story short she kind of misses her mom and remembers how her mom was going to teach her a smokey eye before she died and is determined to teach it to herself now

-So she pulls a little heist and snatches some of Abbacchio’s makeup while they’re all out doing stuff

-She was not prepared for how heavy this shit was. She was used to the lighter, more natural stuff but Abba’s makeup is EXTREME.

-All of his stuff is waterproof so it doesn’t wash off while he’s crying at 3am and it’s just this—dark, heavy stuff.

-She actually hasn’t used a thick, real tube of lipstick before, only those little gloss tubes with the stick because she has smaller lips so when she crouches over with a small makeup mirror in fear of anyone somehow walking in on her and smears Abbacchio’s thick, dark purple lipstick on her lips, she knew she was absolutely fucked. She has no idea how to do this shit, especially not with dark, heavy goth makeup

-The smokey eye does not work. It’s just smeared eyeshadow EVERYWHERE, it looks like she has two giant, awful, black eyes and her first attempt at eyeliner was just—unspeakably horrible

-She has no idea where to start so she just puts on way too much of absolutely everything and immediately regrets it the moment she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror

-Abba comes home early and immediately realizes that some of his makeup is gone and he knows it has to be Trish

-He walks upstairs to confront her but just hears loud, ugly sobbing coming from her room and bursts in only to find her desperately trying to wipe off layers of caked-on water-proof makeup and absolutely failing

-The two of them spend all night taking it off all while Trish is still crying teary apologies to him

-To add in some wholesome Dadbacchio, he teaches her how to properly put everything on the next day <3

Giorno

-Some people forget that as a 15 year old, Giorno sometimes has absolutely no impulse control

-So when Polnareff tells him that he’s the spitting image of his evil, murderous, vampire dad he’s immediately like “haha well I’m gonna go dye my hair now”

-Everyone had something to do that day/night so Giorno waltzes over to the nearest drug store and grabs one of those at-home dying kits (he got dark green cause he thought it would look cool with his new outfit)

-He gets home and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing so he just thinks it’ll work out somehow

-Soooo yeah he does NOT put it in properly at all, he just kind of takes the shit and slathers it all over his hair and doesn’t do his roots and doesn’t put it up and leaves it dripping down his back and stuff and his stupid ass FALLS ASLEEP with the hair dye in

-He wakes up and the sheets are this really awful light green colour but he doesn’t pay any mind to it

-He looks in the mirror and from the front it actually looks good and he gets all excited and decides to wash it out

-When he gets out of the shower it’s this awful disgusting light light ugly green and he almost cries. Almost.

-It looks like someone dunked him in that Nickelodeon slime and he looks at the package and it says the dye will stay in for at least 3 weeks and there aRE TEARY EYES

-He spends the next hour in the shower trying to wash it out. It does not wash out.

-Utterly defeated with his hair matted and donuts practically falling apart, he stumbles over to his room and tries to wash the sheets covered in slime-coloured hair dye which *surprise!!!* doesn’t wash out either!

-He must dispose of the evidence, but of COURSE they’re out of garbage bags so he shoves all the dye kit stuff and the sheets into a mafia body bag and chucks it by the garbage can outside without a single thought

-Which he SHOULD have had a single thought about it, because when they get home and Narancia spots the body bag he’s like “holy shit guys I think Giorno killed someone while we were out”

-So they all panically pop into the house and cautiously try to find Giorno. Fugo finally finds him pacing around his room in the dark and when he flicks on the lights HO-LY SHIT.

-Fugo obviously bursts out into laughter and Bruno books it up the stairs and also starts cackling and Narancia is like “OH MY GOD YOU KILLED SOMEONE LOOKING LIKE THAT?!” and Giorno has to explain to them that the body bag is filled with stained bedsheets (much to his embarrassment)

-Abbacchio takes so many pictures and Giorno is having a nervous breakdown because he cannot live with his hair looking like this

-Bruno makes Abba fix it the next morning and he loves every second of Giorno’s mortification

-The pictures Abbacchio took of that night are framed next to the pictures of Bruno’s wasted karaoke night in his room

______________________

Thank you for the ask, anon!! I’m absolutely exhausted now haha so I’ll scroll through the rest of the asks when I wake up!!

[thebountyfucker]

Character: Cad Bane. Kinks: punishment/overstim. Prompt: 11) “I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”

NSFW - 18+ ONLY

CadxAFAB!Reader (Gender neutral!) Tags: Domination, minor sadism, punishment, overstimulation, jealous Cad

Here's the link to my masterpost and the application for my taglist

“I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”

This was the ominous threat Cad had muttered after finding you in a bar with his rivals’ hands all over you. You could hardly remember who it was at this point, only that they had pretty much fucked you in front of everyone in that bar. It wasn’t as if you hadn't wanted it - because you did. You had an itch that needed scratching, and Cad was a busy man. Besides, you weren’t lovers, nor were you exclusive. Cad was just jealous. But when Cad got jealous… he was liberal with his punishments.

The moment you passed through the threshold of his apartment, he cuffed you and dragged you to his room. You put up a fight - only because you knew he’d want it like that - whimpering and trying to get away. Cad just growled and brought you to the right side of his room, where he had a hook and chains installed in the ceiling. He hooked the cuffs to the ceiling, and adjusted the chain so you were left standing with your arms above your head. He quickly fastened a belt to your hips and looped a vibrator through the belt, making sure to rest the vibrator exactly on your clit. He turned it on to the highest setting and took a step back, watching you squirm.

It took only a few minutes for your nipples to harden and for your pussy to begin to drool. Your cheeks went warm, and you rocked your hips, trying to get any friction you could. Cad drew closer, reaching up to pinch your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

“Dis is what happens to naughty sluts who let others touch dem.” He growled, tilting your chin up so you could meet his gaze. You tried leaning forward to kiss him, but he wouldn’t allow it. “Yer going t' cum again and again and again, until ya can’t anymore.”

“Sounds like a reward.” You muttered, warmth building in your core. Cad shook his head.

“It ain’t. You’ll see.” He turned and walked away, searching for something. He returned to you with a paddle, and ducked behind you. You couldn’t care less about this; you were close to your orgasm, anyways.

He smacked the paddle down on your asscheek, and you let out a small yelp; he gave you little time to think before he brought the paddle down again, this time on the other cheek. You lurched forward, pressing harder into the vibrator; with a loud cry, you came. Pleasure flooded your body, your head floating high in the clouds. You would live in this moment forever if you could.

You were brought out of it by the paddle smacking both cheeks, and the hum of the vibrator on your now sensitive clit. You squirmed and whimpered, realizing quickly how this could become a punishment. It wouldn’t take too many more orgasms for this vibration to become painful. But at this point, you were too sex drunk to beg for forgiveness.

Your cute little blush had traveled down your neck and your slick was dripping down your legs. Cad thrust his hands between your legs, spreading your juices around. You whined, trying to hump his hand.

“Uh uh. Dere will be none of dat.” He hummed as he pulled his hand away and instead smeared your juices all over your ass and lower back. He walked around to the front of out, drawing the paddle down your stomach.

“Please… Cad, I need your cock.” You mewled, spreading your legs on the off chance that this would entice him to fuck you. He didn’t take the bait.

“No. You decided t’ fuck around. Now yer finding out de consequences.”

The vibrator buzzed against your clit, building another orgasm within you. Sparks of arousal shot to your cunt, and it took little time before you orgasmed again. Your pussy clenched, desperate for something to fill the void, but it didn’t seem like Cad would give you that pleasure.

He tossed the paddle aside and watched as you flailed against the vibrator. The once pleasurable buzz now felt like needles pricking at your clit. It wasn’t bad enough for you to wound your pride, though, so you kept strong. Besides, there was something about the pain that felt good.

“Ya had enough yet?” Cad asked, and you shook your head.

“I didn’t… I didn’t do anything wrong.” You moaned softly, and Cad shook his head. He unbuttoned his pants, and pulled them down, revealing his already-hard cock. He spread your legs and thrust up into your drooling cunt.

“Who do ya belong t’?” He growled, holding you firmly on his cock; the vibrator was trapped between your pelvises, and bore down on your clit.

“N-no one!” Your voice wavered as sharp sparks of electric arousal shot to your cunt. You wriggled, trying to end the relentless assault of the vibe.

“I said who?” He growled.

The words left your lips before you could stop them. “You! I belong to you!”

With that, you orgasmed again, your fluids gushing around his cock and soaking you both. Your chest heaved, sweat plastering your hair to your face and neck. Cad smirked and flicked off the vibrator.

“Dat’s right.”

-

I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @doctor-ren